#I barely imagined 18 and didn’t imagine 19-24 at all

[okgal21]

Oh yeah my birthday was (technically) yesterday. 25 now!

[missbubblesoda]

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (8)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27) | (28) | (29)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 4.2k

“My goodness! You are totally going to find a husband tonight.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” The crisp air flowing in through the open window caressed your bare skin and prompted you to ask the question.

“Who cares? Woman, look at yourself.” Hitch grabbed you by the shoulders and turned you to the mirror.

You examined your reflection again, trying your best to find the confidence required to finally step out of the ladies’ room. You had chosen one of your favorite silk dresses for the occasion: sky-colored, cowl neck that stopped exactly where it was comfortable, and thin bow-tie straps to hold everything up. Yes, definitely a favorite. Favorite, as in ‘best liked’ and not as in ‘frequently worn’. In fact, this was the first time the poor thing ever left your room, where a teenager version of yourself used to wear it late into the night, when the risk of getting caught by your mother equaled zero. She didn’t even know you owned it, but you were certain the thigh slit and the flirty silhouette would be reason enough for her to disapprove. But to be fair, you didn’t remember the fabric ever hugging you this way before. Your body had obviously changed a lot over the years, and you were surprised it still fit.

“Jeez. I really wish I wasn’t on duty tonight, so I could wear one of these.” Hitch let out a disheartened sigh. Her chin was resting on your right shoulder and her eyes examined your reflection from head to toe. When they stopped at the slit in your right leg she said “Those thighs won’t have a problem finding their way into a gentleman’s heart.” She gave you one of those smirks you had missed so much. “Or into his bed…”

“Sadly, I’m not here for that tonight. I’m here for work.”

“Sorry but no one who is here just for work, one, looks this good in a slip dress, and two, takes this long to come out. What about punctuality?”

She was right. You had already taken too long. So, very reluctantly, you decided to walk out the door. But as soon as you stepped out, heads started turning in your direction, the attention mostly coming from women wearing pastry-shaped gowns and opera gloves.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t expecting the attention. You knew the dress had been a daring decision. The moment you slipped on it, you confirmed it had the potential to make heads turn, and maybe some part of you actually wanted a taste of that. Would admitting it make you an attention-seeker? According to your script, however, the scene was supposed to play out a little different, and you had imagined yourself actually enjoying it. But, in real-life, the only thing the dress was succeeding at was awakening dormant insecurities, like that feeling of inadequacy you had almost forgotten about. How could you have forgotten though? You used to be inseparable. That was until you started working at the Survey Corps. You thought of your office, and the familiar picture comforted you for a brief moment, until you remembered it was now miles away.

You smoothed down the front of your dress, in part to look busy and also to dry your sweaty palms, but unlike the silky fabric, the crowd’s eyes felt rough on your skin. And you wished you had decided to wear something less special, something that would allow you to camouflage and pass as one of them. Why did I wear this? Your eyes tried to find the answer in a very promising spot on the floor. Maybe it had been out of pity for the dress. As a dress, it would be disappointing to spend all your life in a dark closet. Maybe it had been for old time’s sake. Since you hadn’t felt that out of place in months, maybe you wanted to remind yourself of the sensation. Or maybe it had all come down to something as simple as the color, and how it reminded you of something you had grown to like so much over the last months.

You turned to Hitch, displaying your bare back to the crowd.

“I can’t do this. Not like this. I’ll go get my coat.”

“Absolutely not. You look perfect, that’s why they are staring, because they like what they see. In fact, I would be worried if they weren-” Her eyes got lost in a particular spot on the other side of the room. “Woah, your boss is hot.”

You turned around and felt like you were coming undone. You didn’t understand why all these eyes were fixed on you, when clearly the best view was across the room, where he was standing.

One look at him and it was obvious that tuxedos had been created just so they could be worn by him. That black suit was exactly the kind of fit a woman would pick out for her man to wear at an event like this. And, while the slicked back hair undoubtedly contributed to the fireworks lighting up all over your skin, the real devil was in all the other details. It was in the way he kept his shoulders back and his chin high as he spoke, in the unconcerned drumming of his fingers against his leg, in the way he threw his head back when laughing, and in the way he seemed to fall into place everywhere he went, whether it was a room full of intimidating people, or a field full of titans. Confidence shone through his skin. Confidence, as well as everything else that made him attractive, came from deep within.

“Alright, now go out there and fulfill your duties.” You felt your friend's hands on your shoulders. “That also includes finding yourself a rich suitor who asks for your hand in marriage.” She whispered into your ear before pushing you into the crowd.

Across the room, the commander was talking to a group of older-looking men. Despite your legs feeling as steady as a house of cards, you started walking towards him. You had successfully made it halfway through the uncomfortable stares, when his eyes finally landed on you. Like everyone else so far, he did a double-take. However, unlike the others, he didn’t turn to the next person to whisper something. Instead, he started making his way to you. And most notably, unlike the others, whose eyes traveled all over your body, back and forth between every patch of exposed skin and resting at all the wrong stops, his didn’t. As he walked to you, his eyes were fixed on yours. And, in that moment, you realized you were very lucky. Because those were the kind of eyes that made the world around you vanish, uncomfortable stares and all.

When you finally met halfway, you decided you would gladly give up your ability to blink. It would be a small price to pay if it meant you would never miss a second of that irresistible smile and the way it made his eyes crinkle. He reached for your hand, and took it in with the kind of gentleness you wouldn’t expect from a man who spends his life around flesh-eating giants.

He brought your hand to his lips, and when they met the back of your fingers, you prayed he didn’t notice all the hairs on your forearms standing on end. The rest of your body was clearly getting jealous of your hand. You could tell by the way your lips parted and let out a very subtle, and you hoped silent, moan.

“May I?” He offered you his arm and you took it promptly, deciding you wouldn’t mind holding on to it for the rest of your life, and if that wasn’t possible, then at least for the rest of the evening.

When you got a closer look at the men he had been previously talking to, you realized you actually knew one of them: Commander Pixis, head of the Garrison. You had never met him formally, but you had seen him a few times around the capital. However, before any introduction could take place, a man with gentle-looking features spoke in a soft voice.

“My lady, Erwin is undoubtedly a very lucky man.”

His words took a few seconds to register with you, but when they finally did, your ears started burning, the sensation spreading like fire to the rest of your face as you realized that they, most likely, still didn't know you were his assistant.

After conversing some more, the commander asked to be excused and guided you to another group of people. And so, as you made your way around the ballroom, you realized there were even more eyes on you now, and it wasn’t surprising, the man beside you was reason enough. But the stares didn’t hold as much weight as they did before, because right now you had his arm to hold.

You glanced up at him, and your lips curved slightly as you remembered the little incident from earlier. Much like that man, these onlookers most likely didn’t know you were just his assistant. And something about that, and the speculations it could lead to, the rumors it could start, and everything else it could imply about you and him, made your insides feel as fizzy as the contents of the glass you were holding. For all they knew, the night would end with your dress discarded on the floor, and bodies tangled under the covers. And you found yourself wishing that whatever assumptions they were making would actually come true.

As the night went on, a couple of things caught your attention. One of them was Captain Levi, who looked like he would much rather attend his own funeral. And the other one was a certain pattern of behavior: Every man you met while holding the commander’s arm, purposely avoided looking at your exposed thigh or bare shoulders, and while their eyes would occasionally linger on your collarbones for an innocent second or two, they would quickly migrate somewhere else.

The evening was already coming to a close when the pattern was sadly broken. To be more precise, it was when you met the group of men standing at the top of the stairs. They had been laughing boisterously and drinking steadily since the evening started. Most of them looked like they were well into their fifties, and all six men were wearing ostentatious sashes dotted with the biggest collection of golden studs you had ever seen. The loudest, and presumably oldest, of them all greeted the commander animatedly.

“Erwin Smith, the legend himself. I’m still waiting for that rematch.” You noticed the cufflinks on his shirt and wondered if those were diamonds, because if they were, then they’ve got to be the biggest in existence. “I’ve been working on my double attacks.”

“Intuition is sometimes far more helpful than memorizing patterns, my lord.” The commander replied in a gentle voice.

“That’s why you’re always one step ahead.” The older man let out a guffaw that, in retrospective, felt a little unnecessary, before turning to you. “Woah. Just like in the game, you never cease to surprise me, Erwin. In very pleasant ways, I must say.” His eyes meticulously outlined all the curves of your body, paying special attention to your covered cleavage, and the amount of time he spent there made you wonder if he had somehow developed the ability to see through fabric. “However, I will never understand how your mind works. There is no way I would bring the missus to an event like this. I mean, the whole purpose of a party is to have fun!” The man and his friends broke out in strident laughter, and that was the only moment his eyes left your body, when he tilted his head back to enjoy his own remark.

“I mean no disrespect to you, my lady,” he may not but his body language sure as hell did, “so please don’t take offense.” With tears in his eyes and still recovering from earlier, he acknowledged you briefly before turning to the commander. “But I was hoping we could become family someday, Erwin. You left quite the impression on my youngest.”

You suddenly felt a burning sensation in your chest, and it had nothing to do with the unsolicited attention it had been getting from the man.

“She asked if you were coming tonight. Sent her regards.” The audacity of this man. If the commander were actually your man, how would you feel listening to all this? “Maybe you could join us for lunch tomorrow. She would be delighted to play against you one more time. She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” And right there and then, you realized there would actually be no difference between how you would feel if you were his wife and how you were feeling in that very moment. This man was basically setting the commander up for a little chess date with his daughter, when his alleged wife, fiancée, girlfriend or whatever, was standing right beside him, holding his arm.

“She’s a very gifted young lady.” The commander’s deep voice contrasted the man’s grating tone. “However, I’m afraid I must decline your kind offer, my lord. I will be returning to the headquarters first thing in the morning.”

“I see.” The man cleared his throat, the gleeful undertone seemingly gone all of a sudden. “Anyway, you’re a lucky man. There’s no denying.” His eyes bore into yours, successfully reminding you of a vulture scavenging for rotting carrion. “Your lady is gorgeous.”

That last remark made you feel like you had swallowed a rock; the way he had said it made your legs feel heavier than concrete; and the stare he had given you while saying it, made you feel as clothed as a titan. You knew once this man found out you were not with the commander, you were done. Once, the words ‘she’s my assistant’ left his mouth, this man would come after you. And you also knew that you wouldn’t get far, not with your legs in that state.

“Yes. She really is.” The commander’s voice sounded a lot like the rainy mornings back at the base. You looked up and found him staring at you, his lips curved into a soft smile, his gaze wrapping you like that well-worn blanket your mother always told you to throw away but you never did. You stared back into his eyes and what you saw, took you back to that day in the Forest of Giant Trees, with his heartbeat like a lullaby, and his arms like a sweet childhood memory.

But then, murmuring sounds came flooding in like muddy water spilling out of the sewers. You turned your head in their direction and realized the older man wasn’t the only one who had taken an interest in your dress, but also his friends.

And you decided you would gladly take the women’s stares over these any day. Who knows, maybe the women had only been thinking about how the color didn’t suit you or how fake the silk looked. But something about the way these men were grinning and whispering to each other told you that they were looking for something in particular, and you were sure it wasn’t the tailor’s name. You would much rather feel cheap and underdressed, than dirty and undressed.

You held onto the commander’s arm with your other hand as well, and snuggled closer, in what seemed to be your body’s desperate attempt to elude the attention.

“If you excuse us, gentlemen.” Much like the seasons, his voice always seemed to know when it was its turn to arrive. He guided you away, and at some point between the top of the stairs and the main hall, his hand came to rest at the small of your back. Even through the fabric, his fingers caused your skin to burn. And for the second time that night, you could feel the rest of your body getting jealous.

“Commander, I think I’ll call it a night.” You announced once you reached the main hall. “Thank you for tonight.” You gently let go of his arm and wondered if that was what autumn leaves felt as they were about to fall from the branches.

He nodded slightly, and, probably having no idea how nice it was going to feel, then said: “I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. My house is actually very close.”

“All the more reason to do it then.” His eyes crinkled in that enticing way they usually did and, honestly, you didn’t feel like pretending you were against his proposal.

-

The distinctive smell of frost infused the night air, and slipped into your bustle coat as you walked down the familiar streets that led to your house. There was a lingering warmth still left from the summer, but the mist that hovered above the cobblestones signaled the impending arrival of winter. However, they weren’t fighting for dominance, and you wondered if you would ever know such harmony. You glanced at the man walking just a couple of feet beside you, his eyes, on the road ahead; his mind, somewhere you didn’t know; but his hands, his hands were in his pockets, and you wanted to reach inside his coat and take one.

It had been a dreamy night for the most part, but you could feel your heart shrinking a little with every step you took. Every passing street light signaled another lost chance at getting closure. And you still had lots of words awaiting in your tongue, lots of questions lingering on your lips, and your mouth was heavy with all the things that were yet to be said.

“Lord Wald seems to have problems with alcohol.” He spoke in his usual quiet voice, but there was a certain undertone propping up his words.

“Didn’t seem like that to me.” He looked at you, slight confusion painting his features and causing his head to tilt to one side. “They seemed to get along quite well.”

He chuckled. And you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.” His eyes were fixed in the cobblestones below his feet, and the underlying something from earlier was still there, but this time you were able to put a name to it: it sounded like remorse.

“It’s okay.” You gave him a reassuring smile, even though he wasn’t looking. “But I feel bad for his wife, and honestly for any woman who crosses paths with him when she’s not around.”

“I highly doubt her presence makes any difference when it comes to his behavior.”

You looked at your hands, they were holding each other as if seeking comfort. “So, you play with her often?” You felt his gaze on you but didn’t look back. “His daughter.”

“Met her once. Very impressive player. Cannot say she got it from her father though.” You faked a smile at the exact same moment a tide of regret washed over you, finally understanding what your mother meant when she said chess was an important life skill.

And speaking about your mother, you caught a whiff of a familiar and otherwise pleasant earthy scent and prayed you wouldn’t find her beloved climbing hydrangea, but when you looked up, it was there. And so was your front door.

“It’s here.” You took a deep breath and released the parting words you had been dreading to say. “Thank you for walking me home, commander.”

He took a step closer, reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, but this time, they parted slightly, taking your knuckles between them in a single, soft kiss. The warmth of his lips and the crisp autumn air blowing on wet skin created a delicious contradiction on your hand. His eyes were closed and his lips lingered, some would say for way longer than was required for a hand kiss. It was a sight deserving of a moan, so you gave him a silent one. One that created a playful tickle in your belly.

But maybe it wasn’t silent enough, because in that very moment he looked back at you. And, as you stared back into the deep blue, you realized those were the kind of eyes that could tell you a million things before his lips could even say a word. Tonight, they were telling you something as well, and although you didn’t know exactly what it was, you knew a few other things.

You knew why your skin tingled under his gaze, and burned under his touch. You knew why the sight of him lifted your heart to the sky while his absence made it sink into a bottomless pit. You knew why his scent reminded you of every secret place you hid in as a little girl, and his voice, of a happier future you wanted to escape to. You knew why the thought of another woman interested in him set your heart on fire, and the idea of him interested in her, crushed it into pieces. And you also knew why you had worn the dress.

You knew the blue of the silk would complement your skin just the same way the blue of his eyes did. You had decided to wear the dress just so you could feel what it was like to have his eyes all over your body. His eyes were not only allowed, but welcome and explicitly invited, to explore every inch of your skin, covered or not. He could stare as much as he wanted, for as long as he wanted, in all the places he wanted. But only him. Because you had worn the dress for him. However he was too much of a gentleman to do it, so you gave him permission.

“Do you like my dress?” You took a step closer, and noticed your hand was still in his.

His eyes drifted to your lips, where they lingered for a second, before following the path marked by your collarbones, down to your clothed breasts where they rested momentarily. Then, they paid a short visit to your hips before finally landing on your thigh, visible through the open coat. It was there where they seemed to feel most at home. And it was then, when you had his eyes on your bare skin, that you became aware of how soaked you were. You squeezed his fingers on instinct at the realization, which caused him to trace his steps back to your eyes.

“Very much.” His voice, almost a whisper; his lips, slightly parted. And you could see his breath, as well as the rising and falling of his chest. He was so close you wondered if he could see what you were thinking of, if he could see how much you wanted him to take the silky fabric off you.

In such proximity, his cologne was even more intoxicating. It was musky and clean, like a fresh bubble bath; sweet and gentle, just like him. You knew it was something you would always crave, even after tonight was long gone. And you wondered how many women had been in this intimate space before, and how many of them were craving his perfume right now.

The small of your back was still tingling from where he touched you earlier. And the rest of your body was demanding the same attention, so you took another step closer.

Goodness, he was so handsome. The kind of handsome that makes you want to know how his lips moved in a kiss, and how his hands followed the curves of your body. And the situation laid out before you provided the perfect opportunity.

The perfect opportunity to stop pretending your feelings were written in some foreign language you had never heard before. The perfect opportunity to call it what it was, once and for all.

“Commander.”

“Yes?” His eyes couldn’t decide between yours and your lips.

“There’s something I want to ask you.” Your voice had never sounded so feeble. “Would you- would you please-” He nodded encouragingly but his breath on your skin was too distracting, successfully causing the opposite effect. “I- I can’t tell you.”

“Then show me.”

His eyes were holding your gaze, and his lips, you could almost taste them.

You could also hear, however, shuffling on the other side of the door, and you looked up to find a light turned on in the second floor.

“If it’s my mother, she’ll ask you to come in. If it’s my father, he’ll force you to.” He let out a chuckle and you found yourself wishing you could make him laugh forever. “Would you like to come in?”

“It’s late. I don’t want to importune anyone.”

“Good choice. If you get my father started, he’ll talk about royal family conspiracy theories all night long.”

“Sounds interesting.”

You did your best to return his smile despite the emptiness you felt when letting go of his hand.

“See you tomorrow, commander. Good night.”

-

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 27: New York Christmas Serenade (1/4)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1346

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 28 29 30 31

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Written in 2016, this CS canon divergence is a re-imagining of what New York City Serenade might have looked like if Killian had found Emma’s NY apartment just before Christmas. Can the magic of the season help Killian bring back Emma’s and Henry’s memories?

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

A/N:  I don’t really know what time of year it was when Killian showed up at Emma’s New York apartment door, but for the sake of this canon divergence, I’m saying he showed up the day before Christmas Eve.

Emma shouldn’t complain; she really shouldn’t.  She had a job she loved, she had a roof over her head (a really nice roof at that), plenty of food to eat, a son she loved more than she thought it was possible to love another person, and it was the day before Christmas Eve.  She should be perfectly happy.

But she couldn’t help but think something was missing.

At first she thought she was just dealing with the inevitable melancholy that comes after the breakup of a longtime (well…longtime for her.  When you’re used to one night stands, having a boyfriend for eight months seems like an eternity) relationship, but that wasn’t quite it.  Honestly?  She’d barely even thought about Walsh since she broke up with him just before Halloween.  He’d been okay she guessed, but…well, there was no spark there.

No, it was more than breakup blues.  It felt more like loneliness. She glanced over her shoulder at Henry who sat at the breakfast table garnishing their mugs of hot cocoa with both cinnamon and little mini candy canes (in honor of the season), and the guilt hit.  She loved Henry, of course she did, but she couldn’t help but feel like someone…maybe several someones…were missing.

Emma had just passed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes to an excited Henry when the knock came at her apartment door.  That was…odd.

“We expecting someone?” Henry asked, already beginning to dig into his breakfast.

“No,” she said, her brow furrowed.  “Just…stay here kid while I see what this is all about.”

Emma didn’t know what she expected to see when she opened her door, but a pirate in full black leather and guyliner wasn’t it.  Nor did she expect the look of utter joy—like she’d just given him the best Christmas gift in the world—that crossed his face at the sight of her.

“Swan,” he breathed, blue eyes lighting up.  “At last.”

The pirate stepped forward, looking like he was about to embrace her.  For a moment, her mind went blank.  There was something familiar about this man, although she was pretty sure she’d remember meeting him before.  Aside from his odd choice of clothing, he was hot.  Not just kind of hot.  Like burn-all-of-New-York-to-the-ground hot.

For half a second, she almost let him envelope her in a hug, and then common sense returned.  Emma Swan did not just stand there and let crazy guys touch her.  She put a hand to his chest, warding him off.  “Do I know you?” she asked in a voice she determinedly made hard and unyielding.

“I’m…an old friend,” he said.  He wasn’t being entirely truthful, though he wasn’t lying either…not exactly.  What was going on here? 

“Look, Swan,” he said urgently, taking a tiny step forward once more, “I know you don’t remember me, but I need you to trust me.  Your family is in great danger.  They need you; they need the savior.”

“Look buddy,” Emma said, “I don’t know who you are or what kind of delusions you have, but my whole family is right there at that breakfast table.  My son is the only one who needs me.”

“You simply don’t remember, love,” he began, “I can help you…”

“It’s time for you to go,” she said, giving a little push to his chest until he’d crossed her threshold, “go peddle your crazy to someone else.”

With that she shut the door in his protesting face.

“Who was that?” Henry asked around a bite of pancake.

“No idea,” Emma said.

“Really?” Henry asked.  “Are you sure?  It’s just…something about him seems really familiar.”

“Must be a coincidence,” Emma said with a shrug as she sat down to her breakfast.  “But enough about psychos who show up at our door.  Let’s talk about the weekend!  We’ve got a lot of Christmas-ing to fit into the next three days that I have off.  What do you want to do first?”

Emma tried to forget the handsome pirate, she truly did.  She tried to forget him as she and Henry went ice skating.  She tried to forget him as they rolled out Christmas cookies and cut them into festive shapes.  She tried to forget him while Henry played his video game and she covertly wrapped his presents.  She tried to forget him when she and Henry sat down to watch Elf that night.  She tried to forget him as she lay in her big, lonely bed.

But somehow mystery pirate man wouldn’t leave her thoughts no matter what she did.  When she woke up on Christmas Eve morning after having a weird dream where she and the pirate guy were in this weird jungle place and she kissed the living daylights out of him, she gave up.  Clearly she was going to get no peace until she found him again and heard him out, found out what the hell he’d meant by “your family needs you”.

As luck would have it, Emma didn’t even need to dig into her bail bonds person bag of tricks to locate her target.  She’d promised Henry she’d take him to the zoo in Central Park that day to see the Christmas festivities. And who should she see sitting on a park bench just outside the zoo’s entrance, but pirate man?

The man got to his feet as soon as she was in sight.  “Emma!” he said in excitement.  “Fancy seeing you here, love.”

“Seriously?” she asked, adding extra briskness to her voice to counteract the way the butterflies had started to swoop in her stomach the moment she saw him.  “You are a stalker.”

“Not at all,” he said.  “It was you who followed me here.  Perhaps you, Swan are the stalker here, aye?”  Turning to her left, the man nodded at her son.  “Henry!  Good to see you!  Enjoying your Christmas holidays?”

Henry gave the man a suspicious glance and then broke into a smile.  “Yeah, it’s been great!  Three full days with mom before she has to go back to work…amazing!  But…do I know you?”

The man ruffled his hair.  “I’d wager not, at least not to your knowledge.  Killian Jones at your service, lad!”

“Cool!  Where’d ya get the pirate costume?”

The man looked down at himself and then shrugged.  “I’ve been wearing this attire for such a long time I don’t recall where I acquired it.”

“So, Killian, would you like to come to our apartment for Christmas Eve tonight?” Henry asked before Emma could stop him.  “We’ll light up the tree and watch Christmas movies and hang our stockings and everything.”

The man…Killian…shot her a questioning glance.  “I don’t wish to impose on your family traditions, lad, but if your mother doesn’t object I’d like nothing in all the realms more than to accept your invitation.”

For long moments, Emma stood in indecision.  Her brain was screaming at her to run away as fast as possible.  People did not invite strange men dressed in crazy attire into their homes—not unless they had a strange desire to be murdered, that is.  But her heart…well, her heart kept (illogically) insisting that not only could she trust this Killian Jones, somehow she actually knew him.

What came out of her mouth surprised even her.  “Sure.  Come by the apartment around 7?”

But really, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve, should they?

Killian’s brows rose almost to his hairline.  Safe to say that was not the answer he was expecting either.  “I shall look forward to it, love.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[grayson-baller]

Could you please do hook, prompt 30 and kinks 4, 19, and 24 please??

Hook -- Headcanon

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warnings: smut--18+

word count: 1010

pairing: fem!reader & Hook

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masterlist: ++

tags: @bungleinthe-jungle @legit9thlunaticwarrior @stxrrlightwrites13 @wickedval

want on my tag list? send me a message

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prompts:

kink:

4 -- Daddy Kink

19 -- Mirror Sex

24 -- Dirty Talk

nsfw:

18 -- “I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.”

22 -- “Make Me”

28 -- “Did I say you could stop?”

30 -- “It’s hot when you talk back.”

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“You look like trouble.” He stated, stepping out of the shower. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk as he looked at you as you leaned against the bathroom door, dressed in one of his old shirts. “What kind of trouble are you up to, baby?”

Droplets of water clung to his bare skin, your mouth watering for a taste of him. The sinful thoughts on your mind as you woke up were put on hold when you realized you were in bed alone. You had slipped a shirt on, searching him out.

He caught you staring, sending you a knowing smirk. Not that you were embarrassed. Your man was hot, and you’d never apologize for staring. He didn’t apologize for his watchful gazing either, the way his eyes followed your movements around a room.

You stepped towards him, bare feet gliding across the cool tile. You had found this little apartment online, settling on it for the first home the two of you shared. Not that you wanted to stay here forever. You envisioned something bigger, maybe with a yard so kids could run around and play.

Not that either of you were ready to expand your family. For now, everything was perfect with just the two of you. And the cat you kept trying to convince him to adopt.

You sheepishly grinned, playing coy. “Just wanted to see you.” His eyebrow raised, a clear indication that he didn’t buy it.

“Is that so?” Oh, his tone gave him away as well. He knew you were up to something. His eyes watched you for a moment, trying to figure out what you had up your sleeve. “My baby just wanted to come see me?”

“Yep,” you spoke, wrapping an arm around his neck. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin. You happily sighed at the way he grabbed you, loving the small bite of pain that mixed in with pleasure. “Just wanted to see you, and let you know something…” You trailed on, giggling. “I’m not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.” You teased, pulling the hem of the shirt up slightly to show you were bare underneath.

His eyes darkened as his fingers gripped you tighter. “Is that so? My dirty girl comes in here to tease me, huh? Well, go on. You want to put on a show, baby? Take it off for me.”

“Make me.” You taunted, knowing it was just like playing with fire. You were pushing your luck, in the best way imaginable. The payout was always worth it in the end, leaving you thoroughly fucked, and satisfied.

He grinned, gripping your wrists in one of his hands. “It’s hot when you talk back.” He spoke, pulling you in even closer. “Though, daddy gave you an order, didn’t he baby? So, unless you want to be bent over my knee, plug in your ass as you get spanked and edged all day, I suggest you take that shirt off.” He let go of your wrists as you let out a shuddered breath at his tone, the words coming from him. “Now, little slut. I will not repeat myself again.”

You blinked, memorized by his words, knowing just how easily he could make that threat a reality. Biting down on your bottom lip, you raised the shirt up over your head before letting it fall to the floor.

Using his grip on your hips, he spun you so you were facing the mirror in the bathroom. You were pressed against the counter, hands falling to the countertop to help brace yourself. “I want you to look at yourself, baby. Watch how pretty daddy’s little slut looks as he fucks her. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You nodded, biting back a whimper as his fingers glided over your wetness before he groaned. “Look how wet my fingers are, baby.” He taunted, holding his hand up in the mirror. “After that little backtalk, I am tempted to make you clean my fingers for me.” Heat poured through you at his words, the lewd thought of licking yourself off his fingers.

He stuck his hand in his mouth, licking his fingers clean. “As tempted as I am, your sweetness is a treat, little slut. You taste as good as fucking candy.” He reached for you, turning your head slightly before kissing you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “See, baby? So damn good.” He spoke, letting go of your head.

Your eyes glanced back at the mirror as a glow from the bathroom lights surrounded you. He reached up, grabbing your hair in a makeshift ponytail, before placing a few soft kisses on your shoulders. His fingers glided over you once more before he positioned himself and sinking into you.

“Fuck,” you groaned, hearing him chuckle from behind you. Fingers gripping the edges of the countertop, you leaned forward as his hips snapped forward with force.

There was nothing gentle about him when he fucked you.

“Play with your clit for me, baby.” He instructed as you brought your hand between your parted thighs, fingers teasing your clit. You moaned from the sensation, the mix between your hand on your clit and him was enough to bring you to the edge.

“I’m gonna come,” you panted, trying to starve off your orgasm until he gave you permission. “Please? Please?”

“Come, baby. Nobody’s stopping you.” His words were enough to push you over the edge as you moaned, shouting his name. Your head fell backwards, leaning against him as your eyes closed.

“I don’t think so, baby.” His voice was gentle, as he fucked you through your orgasm. “I told you to watch yourself for Daddy. Did I say you could stop?”

You whined, raising your head back up as you looked at yourself in the mirror once more.

“That’s it, baby. Keep those pretty eyes on that mirror so you can watch how pretty you are when daddy makes you come over and over again.”

[dakaneeee]

Alr you know what Im gonna ask for. You mentioned her in the srpska post so, Herze hcs?

Herze Head cannons time

Again 2 points:

1. Yes i do know when Tix made her she was probably referring to Herceg Bosna, and not Hercegovina as a whole. I am breaking that rule cause I am biased

2. Once again, I am from Hercegovina myself, and since Hercegovina has no important figure i can’t make the same Milorad Dodik joke in the last post

ANYWAY

1. Design wise nothing too interesting, I do imagine she has a lot of Sunspots tho

2. Also thick ass arms. Idk every woman from Herzegovina is always jacked

3. 166 cm for Herzegovina with Tijana Bošković existing is a spit to the face, she should be 180 cm at least

4. Thick brown hair, possibly wavy, though we barely see her hair down

5. Her “pre-conversion” name was Danica

6. She never converted actually, she remained Christian the entire Ottoman period

7. She read the bible to Ilija every night

8. Probably cut most of her hair off and pretended to be a male poturica (a serbian convert), where she went by the name Idriz

9. She wore mostly Turk-like clothing, probably stolen from a few Poturica-s she’s killed

10. Though she still wore the Herzegovinian hat, so it sent subliminal messaging of who she really was so Ilija and Montenegro didn’t have a hard time recognizing her in disguise

11. Once the Ottomans figured out her gimmick they degradingly called her Idriza, which is where her current name originates from

12. Was forcefully married to Enis afterwards

13. She refused to take his last name, the only reason people think she took it is from superficial assumption

14. I don’t imagine her being related to Croatia, she was nicknamed “Serbian Sparta” after all

15. However I di imagine Herzegovina going to Croatia for help, only for him to take off the Herzegovinian hat off of her. Symbolically representing Croats trying to strip away Herzegovinians of their culture as they came to Dalmatia for help.

16. He also tried to convert her, didn’t work at first but it took a toll on her

17. Best Bonding time with Ilija was the Herzegovinian uprising

18. She will feel the same way later in 1993 when the serbs and croats collaborated against the Muslims one more time

19. Sadly, they probably drifted apart as he grew up and became his own thing

20. Also a tarp carrier, once again easy weapon holding but it’s her holding onto her past

21. Had a meaningful connection with Zeta (Montenegro) at the time of the serbian empire, which is where their strong historical bond started

22. “Hladno krvna” as in cold blooded in serbian. Could actually be about her being very cold, but also about her getting physically cold easily

23. Ambiguously calls herself “Christian” and doesn’t specify if she’s Catholic or Orthodox

24. Celebrates Orthodox Christmas with Srpska, Monte and Serbia every time lmfao

25. Serbian new years with Srpska only though

26. I imagine the house of BiH (as in Bosnia, Herzegovina and Srpska) is somewhere outside of Sarajevo, though she probably has a smaller house in Gacko or Trebinje where she goes to so she can feel reconnected to her rural identity

27. Very specifically she has a house with a chimney, weird preference but ok

28. She kept a relationship with Montenegro for the most time during the Ottoman period, the two kind of depending on each other most of the time.

29. Turkish coffee 4 times a day, she isn’t addicted to caffeine she’s just a mom from the area

30. Goran Bregović fan, probably cause she’s also half Croatian and half Serbian

31. Despite not liking the cold, she’d rather be in a freezing river than a warm sea

32. Probably won the cross on Bogojavljenje at least once

33. Also has a very obnoxious Herzegovinian accent, except she throws in Croatian words and it sounds even worse than whatever alien language Ilija is speaking

34. Knows the whole Gorski Vijenac book by memory

35. She told Enis their marriage reminds her of the Hasanaginica story and he crossed his arms and looked at her disapprovingly for the rest of the evening

36. She has a Red Brojanica, the silver cross on the red rope is kind of a nudge to Zahumlje / Duchy of st. Sava in the past

Anyways Herze doodle to get the idea

[hide-in-imagination]

"Roads That Cross... with a Phone Call"

You can read the previous chapters here: (1),(2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15), (16), (17), (18), (19), (20), (21), (22), (23), (24), (25), (26), (27), (28), (29), (30)

I only needed a solar eclipse to update! Yay!

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The next day, Simón left two more marks on Ámbar’s chest.

It was during lunchtime, which was rare because, usually, after a night like that, they didn’t need to satiate any more urges so soon after. But the pause in activity had been felt by both of them, and now that they could do it again, they didn’t seem to want to wait at all.

“I can’t stop thinking about last night,” Ámbar breathed between kisses and hurried hands, yanking off his clothes with the same urgency as her tone of voice. “I can’t concentrate on anything.”

Simón groaned and held her against his body, and then he gave her what she wanted and fucked her into the mattress.

There was something so satisfying about reducing such a strong force of nature like Ámbar into a gasping, whining mess with just a few bucks of his hips. She always had a witty comeback at the ready, an ironic comment aimed at whoever talked to her, but when she was like this, with him, she felt so much that Simón could leave her speaking in tongues.

It filled him with pride. It incited him to give more.

After, when they were dressing back up to grab something to eat (Simón shouldn’t have unraveled her for as long as he did, now they’d have to eat fast if they didn’t want to go over their lunch hour, but he’d missed this) Ámbar saw the new hickeys on her breasts and laughed, saying she didn’t know he had this side of him.

Honestly, Simón didn’t know either. It took seeing Ámbar wearing nothing but his shirt for him to realize just how much he liked it, and he couldn’t deny the surge of primal satisfaction upon seeing the marks on Ámbar’s breasts and neck. It looked sexy. She looked his.

Luckily, Ámbar said she didn’t mind, as long as they were few and nowhere visible, and as long as he allowed her to mark him too. Simón had no issue with that. In fact, part of him wanted her to leave the most obvious love bite on his neck and then have her show her own ones too just so he could flaunt them in front of Benicio like— See? We’re very happy together, stop being a pest.

But that would be petty of him, and he would feel bad using Ámbar like that, as if she were an object he wanted to show off. He felt a little disgusting just for thinking about it, so Simón pushed the urge down, down, down, until he could barely feel it at all. Besides, his imagination-self was way more shameless than he actually was. If Simón really walked around with a hickey on his neck, he’d die of embarrassment.

There was nothing to prove anyway. Benicio could’ve been bluffing when he spoke about that spot on Ámbar’s neck—A lucky guess. But even if he wasn’t, it didn’t matter. Ámbar chose Simón. Perhaps they’d been seeing each other less than usual the past few days, but every morning without fail they had breakfast together, and when the time came for Simón to leave, instead of saying goodbye, they always said: ‘I love you.’

“Have a nice day, I love you.”

“See you later, I love you.”

“I’m running late, gotta go, love you.”

I love you, I love you, I love you. That was the one thing important.

Throughout the next few days, they saw each other a little more actually, which came as a pleasant surprise to Simón. A couple of official, Manager things required Ámbar’s presence in the Roller, starting with the arrival of the new hires Ámbar had been requesting from Vidia for a while. They were three part-timers who would be taking over the weekends from now on so that Pedro, Eric, and Simón himself, could rest: two girls who would be in charge of the cafeteria, Cata (or Cat for short) and Rae, and one guy who would be the rink assistant and in charge of the lockers, called Alex.   

Ámbar introduced them all personally on their first day of training. She told the girls and Alex that Eric, Pedro, and Simón would be in charge of showing them the ropes around the Roller, while she also managed to, somehow, slip into conversation, twice, that both Simón and Pedro were in a committed relationship. Very much taken. Not single.

She said it all with a smile and it was very smooth, but Simón still had a hard time refraining from laughing. Personally, he didn’t think it was necessary to point that out considering they would only be training the girls for a couple of days and then they’d never see them again unless they visited the Roller in their free time, but Ámbar apparently still felt the need to draw that line in the sand.

To be honest, it made Simón feel pretty good. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one with a bit of a territorial streak in the relationship.

The second reason Ámbar started visiting the Roller more was to personally supervise the last few arrangements for the Day of the Dead party. There were some led light signs that needed to be installed on the walls, spotlights for the ceiling and stuff like that, so Ámbar had to be there to give directions to the handymen responsible for it. Some decorations had to be done by hand too, and while Ámbar could make some of them at home, oftentimes it was more practical to just do them at the Roller.

Simón was happy to see Ámbar more, no matter how briefly. When she first started working on the decorations, he offered to help, but she told him to just worry about his own work, that she got it covered. Simón still helped her bring a table to the rink, one wide enough for her to put all of the materials on top of it and work on her crafts comfortably, and also carried any bags she needed to move from one place to another— There was no way he’d let her do all of that herself when he had a good pair of arms.

On a good day, they walked back home after work together like they used to, Ámbar’s hand in his, her snuggling up to his side to fend off the cold.

“How do you think the new guys have been adapting to the Roller?” Ámbar asked him conversationally, turning to look at him. “I mean, I asked them, obviously, they said they were fine, but with me being the manager maybe they don’t feel as comfortable talking to me as they do with you.”

Simón smiled. People could say whatever they wanted about Ámbar, but she was actually thoughtful, and ever since she’d become manager of the Roller, she’d been doing a great job at it. He would already put her leaguesover La Generala.

“They’ve been doing great,” he replied. “Alex is amazing at rollerskating, which is very lucky because that was the only thing Eric couldn’t teach him.” The two laughed at that. “The rest, he’d been picking it up nicely. Same thing with the girls. They both had experience working at places like this before, so it’s been easy for them to get the hand of making the beverages and working the register…”

“Oh that’s right, didn’t they both work at a coffee shop before this?” It must have been on their resumes, or maybe Ámbar talked about it with them when they met, before she introduced them to everyone. “Not like the same coffee shop but, you know.”

“Yeah.” Rae and Cat had told him that too. “Actually, I think they bonded over that and they’re starting to become friends.”

“That’s good.” Ámbar smiled. She looked to the side. “As long as they don’t get too distracted and do their job, obviously.”

“Obviously.” Simón laughed. Yeah, the boss position fit her well. Maybe she wouldn’t work at the Roller forever, but he could totally see her leading, with good ideas and consideration. “You know, I actually worked at a coffee shop too,” he mentioned.

Her eyes focused on him with a curious glint. “Really?”

“Yeah, back when I was sixteen. Then I started at Foodger Wheels when I turned 17. Then when Luna turned 16, she joined me at Foodger Wheels, and, well, you know the rest of the story.”

Ámbar leaned her head back a little, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know you worked at Foodger Wheels too,” she said with disbelief. “So, that means that day it could’ve been you delivering my food instead of Luna?”

“Oh.” It was Simón’s turn to be surprised. “I had never thought of that— You’re right.” He huffed out a laugh. “How crazy.” He looked to the city in front of him, imagining how that could’ve been. “Do you think anything would’ve turned out different if it had been me instead of Luna?” He asked Ámbar.

“Well, maybe it would’ve helped to get me into your good graces if you hadn’t first known me as the girl who threw your best friend into the pool,” she said.

Simón burst out a laugh. “Oh my god, I had forgotten about that.” It seemed like a lifetime ago.

His gaze centered on Ámbar and his heart melted at how far they’d come since then. He brought their joined hands over her head and wrapped his arm around her in a fluid movement they had done dozens of times.

“Maybe I would’ve fallen irrevocably in love with you at first sight and never even questioned my friendship with Luna,” he told her, smiling down at her.  

Ámbar’s lips ticked in that way that meant she was holding back from smiling. “I mean, I am that pretty,” she agreed, making him laugh and place a kiss on her temple. Ámbar’s giggle finally broke free after that. “But I think just knowing I had a boyfriend you would’ve forgotten about me,” she said. “Too much of a mess. I can’t see you wanting to get in the middle of that.”

Right, back then Ámbar and Matteo had been dating for a while. They were the ‘it couple’ of the Roller. If Simón had fallen for Ámbar back then, he surely would’ve had a very bad time, kind of like Luna did when she was falling for Matteo.

It certainly wasn’t a position he would’ve liked to be in. But Ámbar was wrong in thinking he could’ve just forgotten about her so easily. Simón hadn’t been able to do that ever since last year, ever since he first started falling in love with her. He couldn’t imagine how he’d manage to do so.  

“Honestly, I’m glad you didn’t fall for me back then,” Ámbar said, looking to the front. “I would have not treated you right.”

She tried to make it sound funny but he could catch the self-deprecating edge in her voice. Her gaze lowered to her feet. “Well.” Her voice turned shyer. “Even now I’m not sure if I’m doing so great.”

Gently, Simón brought them to a stop. “Hey.” He squeezed her softly against his side, and when she turned to face him, he smiled at her lovingly. “You make me very happy. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Ámbar looked between his eyes and then her mouth curled into a smile, just as loving. “I love you.”

Simón gave her a short kiss. “I love you too.”

That was the one thing that mattered.

*********************

Another day, another 300 decorations Ámbar had to do.

She left the house that morning with Simón, choosing to work in the Roller that day. She had a box of unfinished flower garlands in her room, but she had many masks and posters at the Roller that she had started to paint and she wanted to finish those first, before anything happened to them and the paint smeared and she had to do them all over again.

If anyone had told her a year ago that she’d be doing all this craftmanship, ever, Ámbar would have either laughed very loudly or asked what millionaire sum they were paying her because there was no way she would do that otherwise.

As it turned out, some people were worth more than any sum of money, and Ámbar would personally paint hundreds of skull decorations if it meant making Simón happy. In fact, it wasn’t so bad. The artistry was rather relaxing if she just focused on the task at hand and didn’t think about how many other little trinkets she had to finish before the big day.

Maybe she would have to ask for help after all. Especially considering these were all decorations for a tradition she had never celebrated, meaning she wasn’t even sure if she was doing them correctly.

In a moment of distraction, she accidentally bumped one of the paint bottles with her arm, tipping it over and causing its contents to start dripping over the table.

“Shit.”

Ámbar hurried to pick up the bottle and place it straight on the table again. She reached for her purse and pulled out the pack of tissues she always carried with her to wipe off the damage. Thankfully, she was quick enough that the paint didn’t spread too much, so the decorations were safe and she didn’t stain the rink either. The same thing couldn’t be said about her fingers though. She hadn’t really thought about that in her hurry to protect all her precious hours of work.

The tissues helped with most of it but she couldn’t get all of the paint off her skin. Ámbar didn’t want to risk staining the decorations with her fingers, so she left the rink and walked toward the dressing room. A make-up remover wipe would definitely do the trick.

It didn’t occur to her to knock because she didn’t expect anyone to be there when she pulled the door open.

She certainly wasn’t expecting to find Delfi and Pedro making out when she did.  

The couple sprung apart instantly when they heard her come in and whirled around to find Ámbar at the door. They stood there frozen, their backs to the mirrors and their wide eyes fixed on her as growing embarrassment flooded their features.

Ámbar maintained a poker face, staring back in complete silence.

Her eyes centered on Pedro.

“It’s not what it looks like,” he blabbered hastily.

She arched a brow.

“I mean, it is, but it’s not— I’m— I only took a short break, all the tables already have their food, I’m waiting— Please don’t fire me.”

Pedro, as it seemed, gave up on trying to salvage the situation and just begged.

Ámbar kept her voice and gaze even. “Pedro.”

“Yes.”

“Get back to work.”

The boy nodded energetically. “Yes. Of course, Ámbar. Right away.”

With his head down, Pedro sped out of the room as if his life depended on it. The door closed behind his back and Ámbar and Delfi were left alone. Their eyes found each other, and they kept each other’s gaze for a long second.

Ámbar couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.  

Delfi still looked embarrassed but she started laughing too, catching it from Ámbar, and just like that, all the previous tension totally vanished.

“Oh my god, you should’ve seen your faces—I should’ve taken a picture!” Ámbar rejoiced. It had been priceless. “I see you two totally made up from your fight,” she said to Delfi, giving her a teasing smirk. “As a person, I love it, but as the manager of this place, I need to make sure that kissing is the only thing you two have done in here.”  

Delfi blushed furiously. “Of course! Are you insane? I would never do more right here in public!”

Ámbar laughed at her flustered state and raised her hands placatingly. “Okay, okay, it was just a question.” She let her hands drop. Her smile turned more genuine. “Good for you though. You both seem happy.”

Delfi smiled with that distinctive softness pertaining to being in love. “We are. Very much.” Then, either for the sake of being polite or maybe to draw attention elsewhere, she brought the topic around to Ámbar. “How about you? How are things going with Simón?”

Well, we don’t secretly make out at the Roller, but we do much worse at the mansion when no one’s around. Or should I say better?

“Mmm, you know how couples sometimes watch TV shows together?” Ámbar said instead of that— Too much information. Delfi nodded. “Well, my boyfriend is making me watch all Marvel movies in chronological order,” she shared flatly. There truly was a lot of time for leisure when one got their period— Who would’ve thought?

“Hey, at least those are entertaining,” Delfi said. “My cinema teachers at my university make us watch 3-hour-long, black-and-white films in which nothing happens— And they swoon like it’s the best thing ever!” She complained with disbelief. 

Ámbar grimaced. “That sounds awful.”

“It is. How I wish I could be staring at Chris Evans’ back instead.”

“Oh yeah, nice view,” Ámbar had to agree. “He’s not my favorite though— Too goody-goody.”

“Says the girl that’s dating Simón.”

Ámbar gave her a dry look. 

“Is it Thor then?” Delfi asked curiously. “Chris Hemsworth is hot too. Or Antman. He’s dorky; maybe it reminds you of Simón.”

“Why does it have to be like Simón?” Ámbar protested, and kept talking before Delfi could make another joke at her expense. “For your information, my favorite’s Iron Man. He gets so much shit for being— What? Proud? He’s the smartest man alive and a multimillionaire— He has reasons to be proud. If I were him, I wouldn’t even help those idiots; fend for yourselves.”

“It’s cute the mentor-like relationship he has with Spiderman though,” Delfi said, and immediately started breaking down. “Oh my god, when I watched Infinity War, you have no idea how much I—”

“Ssshh! Don’t tell me, we haven’t gotten to that one yet,” Ámbar stopped her, raising her hands.

Delfi’s brows ticked up. A teasing smile formed on her lips. “Ah, so you do like them.”

Ámbar shrugged and focused her attention on pulling some nonexistent lint out from her sweater. “I like that Simón likes them.”

When she looked up, Delfi’s smile had grown into a shit-eating grin.

Feeling a surge of embarrassment, Ámbar straightened her back and hid it behind a scoff.

“Why am I still talking to you?” She moved toward the mirrors. “I came here to do something much more important, and I have plenty more important things to do. If you’ll excuse me.”

Ámbar sat in front of one of the mirrors and rummaged through the drawers until she found a package of makeup remover wipes.

As she pulled one out, she caught Delfi’s reflection on her peripheral vision, staring at her. “You know, you really are different now,” she commented.  

Ámbar glanced at her through the mirror before refocusing on wiping her hands. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Delfi said light-heartedly. “I like this Ámbar better. Less bossy and easier to tease.”

Ámbar sent her a look, but the small curl to her lips betrayed she wasn’t entirely mad at this playful dynamic. It felt nice to just have some unserious conversation with someone once in a while— other than her boyfriend, obviously.

She had just finished cleaning her fingers when Delfi spoke once more.  

“Jazmín told me you apologized to her the other day.”

Ámbar tried not to show her disappointment at losing the levity of the conversation so quickly. Peaceful moments never lasted very long for her. It seemed like something always had to remind her of her old transgressions (or her current ones, which she refused to think about.)

She dropped the used wipe into the trashcan next to her and replied with tranquility. “It was the right thing to do.”

She could’ve left it at that, but given the opportunity, Ámbar turned around in the chair to look at Delfi directly. “But I’m not expecting you two to go back to being my minions or anything, don’t worry,” she clarified. “I’m just slowly, little by little, tying up loose ends.” It was all she could do.

She couldn’t go back in time and change the things she did. All she could do was apologize, and be better in the future. Before, her concept of ‘better’ only meant succeeding in all aspects of her life, no matter the cost. Now, she understood all the damage she had inflicted, onto others and herself, for thinking that way.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t like to be your minion again,” Delfi said, with clear disdain forthat idea. No one would want to be in that position, Ámbar thought with some guilt.

A playful expression showed up on Delfi’s face. “But maaaybe I could be your friend.”

Ámbar had to do a double-take. She stared at Delfi, trying to discern if she was only making a joke, but she looked sincere. Something warm and bright fluttered weakly in Ámbar’s chest— Hope.

“Really?”

Delfi showed her a small smile. “I think you’ve really changed. And, if we ignore all the awful things, we did have some very good moments throughout all those years of friendship. Plus,” she added with that playful lilt again, “I’ve noticed that the only people you talk to lately are either Simón, Ramiro, or the rest of the guys that live at your house— I think you’re in desperate need of a girl view.”

The fluttering was no longer a tentative thing but the mighty upward flight of a bird through the sky. A smile grew on Ámbar’s lips and she rose from her chair, hesitating only for a moment before going for a hug, and to her utter relief, Delfi hugged her back, just like in the old days, but better.

“Thank you,” Ámbar told her over her shoulder, eyes closed to capture this moment, this proof that not all her bridges were burned.

She could hear Delfi’s smile in her voice as she answered. “You’re welcome, girl.” 

****************

The raucous of many voices talking and laughing all at the same time permeated the locker room as the Roller Team tied up their rollerskates for another training session.

There weren’t enough benches in the place, so everyone took turns to put their skates on. Simón had been the first one to enter the lockers, so he gave his spot over to Jim and was then the first to slide out.

He was excited about rollerskating, of course, but the truth was that his main motivation to arrive before everyone else was the dazzling blonde standing on one corner of the rink, surrounded by an assortment of flowers and skull decorations in different colors, almost as vibrant as her, but not quite.

Ámbar heard him roll near, so she spun on her feet, and a smile blossomed on her lips when she saw it was him. Simón felt his heart do a happy dance and thought of how lucky he was to have her, not for the first time. Having the person you love love you back had to be the most magical thing anyone could ever experience. Having said person also throw a party for you just to gift you a little piece of home had to be a bonus not many received, and one Simón was incredibly grateful for.

Sure, their relationship wasn’t perfect— not by a long shot. There were a lot of things that worried him. Things he wished that could be better. But in the quiet moments, Simón was simply in awe of just how in love he was with this girl.

“You’re kidding,” Ámbar said with a happy sparkle in her eyes. “I was just about to call you, how did you know?”

If he hadn’t been already, that would’ve made Simón smile. “I don’t know, I guess we’re connected.” At least I’d like to think we are.

He pointed down to his skates. “Also, it’s time for our training session.”

Ámbar’s eyes widened. “Oh, is it that time already?” She checked her phone and, upon confirming this, pocketed it quickly. “Sorry, time flew by. Before I go, real quick— I changed my mind.” She looked at him with a slightly chagrined expression. “Could you help me with all of this? I’m sure you know a hell lot more than I do and—” The rest of the guys started filling the rink right that second. Ámbar looked behind Simón and called out to them. “Please stay clear of this corner!” She gestured to her table. “I’m working on all this stuff and I wouldn’t want them to tear or anything.”

His friends made different sounds of agreement. Simón turned to face Ámbar again. “Sure, I’ll help you with the decorations, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m just kinda lost with all these skeletons and things.”

“Well, you don’t have to fret anymore because the bestMexican boyfriend in the world has at least a million ideas for you,” Simón declared playfully.

Ámbar’s brows ticked up with interest. “Really? A million ideas? Well, I sure have to find him now and get him to help me. You know where I can find him?”

Simón placed one hand on the table behind her and leaned in closer, answering her little smirk with one of his own. “Well…”

Juliana clapped her hands loudly from the middle of the rink. “Alright, alright! Time for practice!”

“Yeah, let each other breathe for a moment, you guys!” Matteo yelled at them. 

Simón pulled away from Ámbar and looked at the other boy. “Envy is bad for you, Matteo!”

The rest of his friends started to tease Matteo. Simón turned back to his girlfriend with a smile. “See you at the mansion?”

Ámbar nodded. Simón gave her one quick peck before skating away to join his team with the initial warmups. He watched from afar as Ámbar walked away from the rink.

Simón wished she didn’t have to. He missed having Ámbar as his skating partner, the days when she was on the team and they were all friends. He knew that a lot had happened, and Ámbar had only stopped being a Red Shark some time ago, so it wasn’t as easy as just inviting her back, but he wished he could. He didn’t know how everyone would react if he did though. He’d like to believe they wouldn’t be completely opposed to it, but that wasn’t the same as liking the idea, and Simón would hate himself if he put Ámbar through an uncomfortable situation like that. He didn’t want there to be a them with her just existingon the sidelines. (Although he understood that it was her who first created that divide.)

In summary, he just had to be patient, as with all things Ámbar-related.

That was fine by him. After all, he was convinced that she was worth it.

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

Hours later, after everyone had already had dinner and the oldest went to sleep, Simón found himself with the guys in the storage room. They’d been showing Matteo some new songs they had created for the Roller Band, and he even helped them finish some of them, coming up with some brilliant ideas that made Simón and Pedro’s eyes sparkle and their hands play the instruments more enthusiastically.

(Simón refrained, once again, from just asking him if he wanted to be part of the band. While he would love that, Matteo had his solo career dreams, and that was totally okay— Simón wouldn’t want him to accept just out of a sense of comradery for them, or pity, and then regret it later.)

Now, after all of that, it had gotten late (and Simón had some arms to return to), so Pedro had risen from his seat behind the drums, and Matteo and Simón were putting their guitars away, disconnecting cables, and all that stuff.

It was just the usual until Matteo made a joke about how “If you wanted to, you guys could be a Christian Rock duo and call yourselves ‘The Apostles’, what with those names you’ve got” and Simón rolled his eyes.

He was about to point out how ‘Matteo’ was also an apostle’s name when Pedro jolted suddenly and grabbed Matteo’s shoulder.

“There! Did you see that? I told you!” Pedro exclaimed, amused, and pointing at Simón for some reason.

Matteo let out a laugh, joining Pedro’s amusement. “Oh my god, you were right!”

Simón looked at them a little self-consciously. “What? What is it?”

Pedro looked at him with a teasing smile. “Ámbar’s rubbing off on you, man. You roll your eyes just like her now.”   

Simón wrinkled his brows, bemused.

“Doesn’t everyone roll their eyes sometimes?”  

“Not like that they don’t,” Matteo countered. He pointed at him. “That is a registered trademark of Ámbar Smith.” 

Even though they were making fun of him, the notion made Simón feel all warm inside.

A little laugh escaped his lips. “Well, maybe. I mean, we spend a lot of time together.”

“We know,” Pedro said dryly.

“Yeah, you smell like flowers now, dude,” Matteo said, “I think everyone knows.”

“Actually, I’m surprised Luna’s dad hasn’t told you anything yet,” Pedro said.

“I think he’s pretending not to notice for the sake of his mental health,” Matteo theorized.

Simón frowned a little. He knew he was bound to smell a little like Ámbar when they started sharing bathroom products, but he didn’t think it was that noticeable— He still used his own deodorant and wore cologne some days. He tried bringing his arm up to his nose to see if he could catch a whiff of ‘flowers’, as his friends said, on his skin, but of course, it being his own body, he couldn’t really smell anything because his nose was used to it.

“Maybe I should start using my own products,” Simón thought out loud. He liked knowing he smelled a little like Ámbar (it felt like they were married, which was silly and insane, of course, therefore that thought only lived in the most profound level of his subconscious) but maybe parading around that they shared the same shower when he was supposed to have his own room wasn’t the best idea.

“I mean, considering whatever Ámbar uses is probably more expensive than what you earn in a whole week, yeah, maybe,” Matteo said.

Oh. He… hadn’t thought about that. 

“Anyway, we were talking about your new music career,” Matteo continued. “Should I help you two replace all mentions of ‘girls’ in your songs with ‘Jesus’?”

Simón and Pedro laughed out loud.

“Absolutely not.”

*************************

Ámbar was about to change into her pajamas and get into bed when she realized she couldn’t find her Scotch tape anywhere.

It wasn’t like it was a terrible thing. She could easily buy another one. But she liked to be organized, so she decided to go downstairs and check the living room in case she’d dropped it when she was working on the decorations earlier. If it wasn’t there, then she’d consider it lost and buy another one, because she was sure she still had it at the Roller.

Ámbar walked through the hallways and down the stairs trying to make as little noise as possible in case someone was already sleeping. The lights were off in the living room, but there was enough light coming from the garden lighting outside that it wasn’t hard to see. It wasn’t enough to find a tiny clear tape on the carpet though, so Ámbar turned on a table lamp, and when that wasn’t enough, pulled out her phone and used its flashlight as well.

Finally, she found the little roll of tape underneath the sofa. She must have kicked it under there by mistake earlier. She put it in her pants pocket, and she had just turned off the flashlight on her phone when the device started ringing, startling her a little.

It was the loud sound against the otherwise silent house, the lightning panic of ‘shoot, I’m going to wake up someone’ that reflectively crossed her mind. She would’ve gotten over it as quickly as it happened if it had been any other number calling her on the phone. But as she read the caller’s ID, Ámbar’s nervousness didn’t settle down— It was heightened.  

‘Vanessa’

Maybe it was the suddenness of it— That she took her by surprise. Maybe it was her brain urging her to quiet the noise as soon as possible. Maybe it was the mix of curiosity and worry at having her godmother call her at this hour. Maybe, under different circumstances, Ámbar would’ve thought about it twice before answering the call.

But the fact of the matter was, she did.  

“Hello?”

“Ámbar.” Sharon’s voice came through with its usual mix of impassiveness and undercurrent firmness. “I hope you’ve gotten over your little tantrum because I need your help. It’s important.”

The ball of anxiety grew in Ámbar’s chest, along with confusion. “My help? With what?”

“I need to get inside the mansion,” Sharon said without preamble. “I can take care of the guards at the entrance, but I need you to make sure that no one crosses my path while I go in and out of my room. I’ll go at night, when it’s less likely someone will see me.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Get inside the mansion— Are you insane?” Her voice almost rose for a moment and Ámbar had to remind herself to keep speaking quietly. If anyone heard her, it would be incredibly bad— But what her godmother was saying was even worse. “Wasn’t it enough with last time?” She demanded with outrage. “I thought you had understood that it’s not a good idea— You’re going to get caught.”

“Not if I have a good lookout, which is why I need you. You’re the only one I can trust, Ámbar.”

Ámbar shook her head. That was always Sharon’s technique— Try and pull at Ámbar’s heartstrings when she needed something from her. But Ámbar had done this dance too many times. She knew how it ended.

“No,” she replied, firmly. “I am not going to help you. Why are you even asking me? Ask Rey or Maggie—they are your little toy soldiers, don’t pull me into your crazy ideas.” I have too much to lose.  

The mild softness in Sharon’s voice vanished as fast as it had appeared. “Rey got me the key for the chest four days ago, but since then, he’s been reluctant to cooperate with me and I can’t enter the house without help from the inside, it’s too risky,” she explained with evident frustration. “It must be Maggie’s influence, no doubt. That woman only causes trouble.”

Good job, Maggie, Ámbar thought with some relief.  

“Or maybe Rey doesn’t want to help you because he knows as well as I do that this is a bad idea,” she emphasized. “What even is in that chest that you want it so much?” 

“That’s none of your business,” Sharon retorted immediately. “Just help me get inside to retrieve what’s mine and I promise that I won’t step on that house again. Not until I have gotten rid of those pests who took it from me in the first place, of course,” she added.

Ámbar closed her eyes. How could she not see? No one took anything from her— She was the one who alienated herself from her family for trying to hide the truth. Was accepting the reality that Luna was the heir to the Benson fortune so impossible for her that she was willing to destroy everything in order to avoid it? Destroy herself?

“You need to stop this, godmother.” Ámbar tried to infuse strength into her words but her emotions filtered in, making it sound like begging. “What you’re doing is wrong. Not only is it wrong, it’s dangerous— I’m worried that something might happen to you. Please stop this before it’s too late.”

“If it really worried you that much, you would help me,” Sharon said. “The sooner I get what I want, the sooner all of this will be over— You know that, Ámbar.”

“The Valente don’t deserve this,” Ámbar said. “They’re good people. And if you don’t want to think about them, think about Grandpa— He is your father. He almost had a heart attack the last time something happened, imagine if something terrible happened to him— Would you really be able to live with that?”

“My father made his own decisions, including siding with those newcomers who took everything from us, so whatever happens to him will be exclusively his responsibility.”

Ámbar shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.” Was she really that far gone? Did she not care about anything?

Am I wasting my time? Ámbar thought with sudden, terrifying despair. Is there no way to fix this?

“I’m very serious,” Sharon declared. “So think very carefully if you want to keep siding with that family.”

Ámbar swallowed a groan of frustration. “You don’t understand, it’s not about sides. I just want—”

The sound of footsteps coming from behind her made Ámbar’s heart jump to her throat.

Rapidly, she hung up and turned around, trying to not seem too suspicious.

The fist in her chest tightened when she saw it was Simón who had come in through the kitchen door— out of all possible people— and, judging by the curious look he was casting her way, he had definitely caught her talking on the phone.

Damn it, damn it, damn it!

“I thought you’d be in bed,” he said. “Why did you hang up so fast? Who was it?”

Ámbar tried to think through the buzz of panic in her head. “Yeah, um, I forgot something down here so I came to find it,” she said. Her mouth felt dry. “I did, so, it’s all good.”

Simón made a noise of understanding but the wrinkle between his brows remained. “And the call?”

“No one,” Ámbar responded instinctively. Fuck, she was so stupid— of course it couldn’t be no one! “I mean, no one as in nothing important, don’t mind it,” she tried to dismiss it.

Simón let out a laugh. “If you really told me you were talking to no one, I would be worried that you’ve been stuck inside this house so long it has started to affect you and you hear voices now,” he joked. 

Ámbar forced a weak laugh out of her in response. “Yeah, no, it was… Emilia,” she came up with. “She was just calling to annoy me, so I cut her off. But it was nothing, really.”

The amusement left Simón’s expression and he became serious. “Do you want me to talk to her?” He offered. “I’ll talk to her,” he decided before she could speak. “It’s not fair that she’s harassing you after they kicked you off the team. What does she think she’s doing?”

Ámbar’s eyes widened slightly. “Nonono, leave it, really, I can handle her,” she assured him, trying to seem as unbothered as possible while fear gripped her senses. “It’s not like it bothers me anyway, it’s her time she’s wasting, not mine.”

“You sure?”  

Ámbar nodded immediately, eager to put the topic to rest. Simón, too good to just let it go, walked toward her with a slightly saddened expression and held her hands in his. “We shouldn’t have even invited her to sing with us at the Roller Jam,” he said with some bite. “I know why you suggested it, but if she’s still bothering you even after you tried to do something nice for her, then she’s not worth it.”

He was so aggrieved for her sake and it only made Ámbar feel worse. He only wanted her to be treated fairly, kindly— He wanted to defend her from what could bring her harm. And in the meantime, what was she doing? Sinking in a sea of lies and drowning others with her in order to maintain them.

I’m the harm and he doesn’t know it.

“I just thought it was fair. And who knows? Maybe she just needs time,” she attempted to defend Emilia in order to salvage her conscience. “But whatever— I don’t have time to think about Emilia or anything of the sort, it really doesn’t matter,” she said fast and dismissively. She squeezed his hands and smiled. “Let’s just go upstairs, okay?”

Ámbar turned off the lamp and they went up to her room hand in hand. The darkness gave her an excuse to not look him in the face.  

The warmth of Simón’s hand felt suffocating against her own, as if it burned her skin— holy water on the worst sinner. Ámbar felt disgusting. She didn’t deserve this hand.

But she was not going to let it go. She held it tighter. She held him tighter.  

She was not letting Simón go.

Ever.

******************

The next morning, Ámbar woke up before him, as she usually did, but Simón convinced her to stay in bed and sleep some more. They’d had a long night last night (Ámbar had been inspired, running her hands and mouth all over his body, and he had no desire to say no) but more than that, she’d been visibly tired lately with all the preparations for the Roller Jam, and she deserved the rest.

“It won’t kill you to sleep in one day; take the morning off.”

His stubborn girl was still propping herself up and rubbing at her eyes, trying to wake up even though she was clearly exhausted. “I can’t do that, I’m supposed to be working.”

“I won’t tell Vidia if you won’t.”

Ámbar gave him a disapproving look and pouted, and she looked absolutely adorable with her disheveled hair and sleepy eyes.

Simón kissed her pout. “Seriously, just sleep two more hours, it’ll be okay.”

Ámbar closed her eyes and let her head fall back on the pillow. “Mmm, but I like having breakfast with you,” she murmured.

Simón smiled and tucked some hair away from her face. “Me too. So, sleep so that we can do that tomorrow.”

Ámbar hummed again and snuggled under the covers. There might have been an ‘okay’ there somewhere but it was too muffled and sleepy to tell.

Simón leaned down to drop a kiss on the top of her head before getting up. “I love you.”

“Luv u,” Ámbar mumbled, and by the time Simón walked out of the room, she was out like a light.

The rest of Simón’s morning went on as normal, with him walking to the Roller with Pedro, starting his workday, and supervising the new part-timers while they learned the ropes in the cafeteria.

The first few days of this last activity had felt like double work for Simón and Pedro because they had to train the new girls in addition to keeping up with all their usual duties, so it was a lot. Alex, the new rink assistant, had been easier: He already had rollerskating experience, so all they had to do was show him how the rental system in the lockers worked and teach him about safety precautions in the rink and what to do in case of any accidents— stuff like that. Eric, being the full-time rink assistant, took over most of his training, so Simón and Pedro only had to worry about the cafeteria.

‘Only’ was an understatement, of course— It was the hardest part. But by now, Cata and Rae had gotten a pretty good hang of things— Simón hadn’t lied when he said to Ámbar that they learned things quickly— so he felt way more at ease. Actually, he hadn’t felt this relaxed while working since the days when Nico was still with them. Four people worked better than two, after all. He would miss the girls once they started working on their own on the weekends, and he was sure Pedro shared the sentiment, but in exchange for that, they’d finally get to have their weekends free like the rest of the world, so really, they couldn’t complain.

He brought two hamburgers over to table 4 and then there was a small lull in activity as all the customers enjoyed their food and joyful conversation. Simón took the opportunity to go to the lockers and see how Eric and Alex were doing. Just as a friendly visit, mostly, but if he was being honest, he did have another agenda.  

He’d been thinking for the past few days how great it’d be if Alex happened to play an instrument and wanted to join the Roller Band. Simón didn’t want to get his hopes up, but they could finally be a band again! Alex seemed like a very nice guy from the interactions Simón’d had with him until now, and Eric felt comfortable around him, which said a lot because he was usually nervous around new people, so really, what was there to lose in asking?

Unfortunately, when the three of them got talking and Simón subtly brought the topic up, he came to find out that, while Alex loved music, he had absolutely no ability for it.

Simón hid the disappointment he felt. Of course finding a new member wasn’t going to be that easy. Looking at it objectively, it would have been an unbelievable stroke of luck if Alex turned out to be the solution to all their problems. Not because Simón got to the Roller and was a perfect fit for the band meant that everyone who arrived would be as well.

Maybe Eric could join if he weren’t so shy, Simón thought.He’d been great at Nico’s farewell party. But Simón wasn’t going to force him out of his shell just for his own gain.

The idea of the Christian Rock duo was starting to sound appealing.

They were still talking when someone else walked into the room. There was a minimal pause, almost imperceptible, as the three of them glanced to the side to check if it was someone in need of assistance, but it was just Emilia, who walked toward her locker without even looking at them.

Eric and Alex continued talking, but Simón didn’t. He stayed staring at Emilia, feeling a spark of anger flare inside of him as he remembered last night.

He simply couldn’t understand it. Ámbar was breaking her back organizing an event that everyone could enjoy, that she invited Emilia to participate in as an olive branch, and Emilia repaid that good faith by calling Ámbar just to mess with her? How could anyone be so ungrateful?

Simón couldn’t even be sure this was the first time something like this had happened. Ámbar had a tendency of wanting to deal with everything herself— The prime example of that being that she told Simón not to worry about it, that she could handle Emilia— So who knew how long this had been going on.

Emilia put her skates away and walked out of the lockers as quietly as she had come. Simón tightened his fists. Yes, Ámbar could deal with Emilia— Simón had no doubt that she could handle almost anything if she put her mind to it. But it wasn’t fair that this was happening, and Ámbar didn’t have todeal with everything alone— She had him now. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to allow something like this to keep happening without doing anything about it.

Simón said a quick bye to the guys and walked out right after her.

In the hallway, he threw a quick look around in search for Benicio, because wherever Emilia was, Benicio was always close by. Simón found him still at the rink, rollerskating by himself. Good. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with both at the same time.

Emilia was already crossing the front door by the time he brought his gaze back to her. Simón hurried after her, walked out of the Roller too, and stood in her path, causing her to stop.

“I need to speak with you.”

Emilia blinked, both in surprise and confusion. “With me? What, is there another event you want me to sing at?” She joked. “I’m very sorry but you’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow—I gotta get to work.”  

She tried to pass by him but Simón blocked her way.

“No, it’s not about that. And you know what? If we had known this is what your response would be, we never would’ve invited you,” he spat her way. “I mean, Ámbar wanted to invite you as a kind gesture, she was trying to put an ending to all the fighting so you could be a part of something nice for once, and this is how you repay her? Calling her up just to annoy her? It isn’t enough for you to be so unfriendly to everyone in their presence, you had to bother her during her free time too?”

Emilia wrinkled her face. “What are you talking about?”

“Last night, when you called Ámbar on her cellphone to harass her,” Simón stated in no uncertain terms.

Emilia’s eyes narrowed in a glare. “I haven’t called your little girlfriend since she sucked face with you. She became a loser by association.”

“Don’t lie, Emilia. Ámbar told me.”

“I’m not lying,” Emilia protested. “Here, you wanna see?” She pulled out her phone and offered it to him. “Check my phone’s call history. You won’t find Ámbar’s name anywhere.”

Simón hesitated for a moment. Something inside him rose in alarm, not allowing him to move. He took the phone and tried to quiet it. Emilia was just pretending to be offended, that was all.   

She unlocked the phone right in front of his eyes, which again unnerved him due to the confidence of the gesture, but he carried on. He just had to prove she was lying. He tapped out of Instagram, the last app she’d been using, apparently, and went to the home page to find the Phone app. He went to the call history and started scrolling down. 

He checked the names, the dates on the list, checked again.

Nothing. Ámbar’s name was nowhere to be found.

It must have shown on his face, the way his stomach started coiling into knots, because he heard Emilia’s annoyed vindication. “See? I told you. I don’t even remember when was the last time I called Ámbar. It should show up there somewhere. Has it been a month maybe?”

She was just thinking out loud, unpreoccupied now that she’d been proven right. Meanwhile, Simón was struggling to keep his nervous system under control.

It can’t be.

It can’t be.  

“You could’ve deleted it,” he told her, looking up from the treacherous list on that stupid device.

Emilia, arms crossed in front of her chest, seemed unamused by the accusation. “Yeah, because I see the future and I knew you were going to want to see it,” she said ironically. She rolled her eyes. “Please, Simón, don’t fool yourself. Ámbar lied to you. And, I mean, why are you even surprised? It’s Ámbar. Lying is what she does best.”  

No.

It can’t be.

“Look,” Emilia deflated, uncrossing her arms and looking at him with something akin to pity, “from one Mexican to another, I think you should stay away from her. You’re too goody-goody, and Ámbar… well, there’s a reason why we used to be friends.”

A slight tremor was taking over Simón’s limbs. He couldn’t even look at Emilia. He couldn’t look at anyone.

“Now if you excuse me,” she took her phone from his hands, “I’m gonna go.” Emilia took a couple steps before stopping. “And tell your girlfriend that if she wants to do right by me or whatever then she shouldn’t go around sullying my name with false accusations.” She walked away. “See ya, Simón.” 

Even after she was long gone, Simón remained unmoving. His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his ears.

Ámbar lied to me.

Ámbar lied to me.

He tried to slow down his breathing, swallow the pulse in his throat, but the pain in his chest didn’t go away.   

This couldn’t be. There had to be some explanation. There had to be.

Calm down. He could hardly hear his thoughts through the blaring of his heartbeat. It’s just a phone call. It’s not a big deal. This isn’t like last year. It isn’t—

But if it’s not a big deal, then why did she—?

Simón breathed in and out, hard.

All around him, his world started crumbling down.

…

..

.

[goeldicotton]

Found this randomly, and just decided to answer all the questions for Eleven and River.

1. River, not to say Eleven isn’t affectionate, but he doesn’t ever say how he feels directly. which resulted in River assuming he didn’t love her at all, so yeah, she wins.

2. River is the little spoon, because Eleven likes to play with her hair while she’s asleep.

3. I mean, I could say the whole spoilers thing, but that’s easy, so instead…probably arguments about killing people.

4. Exploring. they’re both nerds. he’s the doctor, she’s an archaeologist. Yeah, exploring.

5. Already drew it, the answer is River. One, she’d fight him if he tried to pick her up. Two, Eleven is a stick. Three, River being badass is half the reason Eleven is into her. her picking him up would fluster the idiot to no end, and I love that.

6. Eleven: Hair River: His Blushing

7. Eleven: starts flirting back River: stops trying to kill him?

8. Hello Sweetie~

9. Depends on which end of the timeline we’re on. River in her past was reckless and violent, and probably saw the doctor as a complete stick in the mud, with all his spoilers, and rules. Towards the end however, she was the one teaching him his own rules. (that’s what we call a bootstrap paradox.) meaning she had to be the worrying responsible one.

10. The Doctor remembers almost every detail about River. he could tell you the exact thing she’d order, even at a place they’ve never been to, just by glancing at the menu.

11. Usually River.

12. Still River.

13. That one is Eleven. River would never think to hold hands, unless she was dragging him somewhere.

14. River, the doctor is too busy fidgeting/melting into the floor.

15. The doctor barely sleeps.

16. Surprisingly enough, I think that’s Eleven. It’s not to sleep mind you. He’d just want to spend more time with her before dropping her back off, especially towards the end of his timeline.

17. River, I don’t think Eleven ever says it, not to her. he’s probably said it to himself, or even to other people, but he never got around to telling her.

18. I imagine Eleven would leave meals for her on occasion towards the end of their timelines. Mainly when he was running out of days he could see her. they’d usually have notes with random jokes and things. they were his way of saying ‘I love you have a good day/night,’ without actually saying it.

19. River

20. They’re supportive…at least, as much as one can be when your friend marries your daughter. I think they took it well honestly.

21. Eleven, he asks her to dance at nearly any opportunity.

22. River can’t cook. surprisingly enough, cooking a decent meal wasn’t part of her kill the doctor training. Eleven on the other hand, can cook quite well. he tried to teach her once, and the kitchen caught on fire.

23. Eleven is the king of cheesy pickup lines.

24. River, all the time, especially when she was younger.

25. Eleven, but only because River functions without it. She definitely needs assurance that her husband loves her, because it’s eating her up inside, but she’s still able to do things regardless. The doctor meanwhile, has moments where, without assurance, he’s going to fuck up the universe.

26. IDK you yet

27. Eleven.

28. Eleven: travel River: depends, either school, jail, digs, or teaching.

29. One for each.

River never traveled with the doctor, because she feared her husband would come to resent her for risking their timelines.

The Doctor has thought of millions of different ways he could save River from the library, but is so afraid of failing, that he hasn’t attempted any of them.

30. One for each.

River always keeps a box of Jammie dodgers around in case Eleven drops by. she’s been doing this since university.

Eleven’s diary is nothing but him gushing about his wife. like it’s just full of him complimenting her, and writing awful poems, and sketching her. He’s definitely written down that he loves her, even if he’d never said it.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

From the Ashes Pt. 24

Pairing(s): Pairing(s): Rhaegar Targaryen x Lannister!Reader, one-sided!Jaime Lannister x Lannister!Reader, Jaime Lannister x Cersei Lannister

Warnings: slow burn fic, changing povs, Rhaegar POV

Words: 1659

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 3.5  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42

Book Two of Dārilaros hen ōrbar se perzys (Heir of Ash and Fire)

The scar that ran diagonally across his face was healing very well, but it would forever be imprinted onto his face. Rhaegar was just grateful he still had a nose and that his enemy’s blade didn’t slice it clean off. The wound was worth it if it meant saving Robert Baratheon’s life. Time and time again, Robert proved to be worth the small sacrifice. An intimidating foe with his warhammer, there were some men that actually fled from him when Robert brandished it. Who could blame them? Whenever Rhaegar sparred with Robert, he slightly feared that in the heat of the moment Robert would forget that they were just training. Once in battle, Robert was overcome by the Warrior.

Rhaegar smiles to himself. Once upon a time, he had despised Robert simply because the oaf was engaged to Lyanna Stark, his winter rose. But his feelings for Lyanna were changed. The very day he broke (y/n)’s heart was the day he stopped loving the engaged Stark girl. (y/n) had loved him all along and he had been too much of a fool to realize it.

And when he did. . . it was too late. Both (y/n) and their unborn child were dead.

Possibly by the hands of Aerys.

His chest always ached when he thought of (y/n), then burned with venomous hatred when he remembered that his own father could be responsible for the death of his wife. He couldn’t even keep the rage off of his face as it contorted his scar. When he finally gained access to the Red Keep, he would rip Aerys right off the Iron Throne. When nights were sleepless, Rhaegar would stay awake and imagine what he would do to Aerys. Would he strike him down immediately? Shall he chop of Aerys’ head or drive his sword deep into his throat? The worst thing Rhaegar could do to Aerys would be to send him down the Traitor’s Walk and have him rot in the dungeons; his madness to eat away at him until he was incontinent. Aerys didn’t deserve the mercy of a quick death.

Oberyn stepping into his tent had Rhaegar turning around and gripping his sword immediately. Concern shadowed the Dornishman’s eyes. “I think you need to see this, Prince Rhaegar.”

He needn’t say anymore. Up on his feet in seconds, the two princes exit to the fields of Tumbleton. They had settled their base just outside of the town’s perimeter. The lord who kept charge of Tumbleton had offered Rhaegar and his men a place at his own estates. Rhaegar politely declined and said he needed his army to be on the outskirts in case Aerys planned on sending them anymore wildfire.

Out in the distance, where Rhaegar could barely make out the piercing towers and walls of King’s Landing, flew a black cloud of ravens. In the sky they looked like a horde of bees as they began to break apart to go to their destinations.

“Shall I get someone to shoot down one of those ravens?” Oberyn asks. As usual when they weren’t in battle, Oberyn was shirtless. Showing off his tanned skin that rode over ample muscles. Thick black hair was tied back into a ponytail as he had been sparring with a knight from Storm’s End.

He nodded in agreement. This could not bode well.

For a well skilled archer, it was fairly easy to shoot into the swarm and pin one down. A black lump fell mid-flight, falling to the ground.

Rhaegar’s personal entourage hurried over to the large avian body and took the piece of parchment that was stuck to it’s ankle. Unrolling it, Rhaegar’s eyes roved over it:

“To the people that populate all of the Seven Kingdoms,

The young Prince Viserys and newborn Princess Daenerys have been abducted from Dragonstone.”

“Dragonstone is a formidable fortress. Who would have been able to kidnap two small children from it’s walls?” Griff commented incredulously.

Reading the rest of the missive, suddenly Rhaegar grins. It sent a slight shiver through Robert’s arms. “He’s going to try and blame this on me. According to this, any lord that has previously sworn allegiance to the throne must arrest me at first glance for treason. Apparently I am no longer next in line for the throne. If Viserys is to be found and returned to the king, Viserys will become the next in line. I am no longer his son.”

In disbelief, Griff takes the parchment from him and looks over it. “Treason! That bastard!”

Arthur Dayne was to be the one to find a little humor in it. “Well, you did always say how you resented being related to that man.”

“So it should be freeing to you.” nodded Oberyn. “This is good.”

“It doesn’t matter. Either way, I’m going to take the throne from him.” Rhaegar is looking to the direction of King’s Landing. The wildfire had died out but a week ago. If he wanted Rhaegar could easily march down to the Old Gate and charge into the Red Keep. His sword hand itched at the idea.

“Who do you think took Viserys and Daenerys then?” reminded Arthur.

That’s right. His siblings were missing. But at least they were out of the grip of Aerys. A sense of duty to make sure they were safe made Rhaegar halt in his plan for Aerys. His late mother would want him to protect his siblings. If he could be next to his mother as she died, the least Rhaegar could do was watch over Viserys and Daenerys. If his father got to them before he did, who knew what kind of monster he would raise Viserys to become. And poor Daenerys would probably be subjected to marry him if Viserys were to become king under Aerys.

“Arthur, do you think you’d be able to contact Varys?”

“I think I can, but that might have to wait Your Grace.” Stretching his arm out in front of him, he points to the horizon where small figures were beginning to bob into view.

The Targaryen black and red flag was growing larger.

Already Robert was calling his men into action. Dornishmen were quickly gathering around, someone handing Oberyn his armor and spear.

“Ser Jonothor Darry. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit to?” Taunts Rhaegar, his men trailing close behind him.

Jonothor Darry dismounted his horse. Underneath his helmet, Rhaegar could make out the hard line of his face. He did not smile and scowled over at Arthur Dayne. “You turncloak. You’re a knight of the Kingsguard. Have you no shame, Ser Arthur?”

“Oh I do.” Arthur steps forward and takes off his helmet so that his seething glare could be fully felt. “I have plenty of shame for ever serving the Mad King!”

The outline of his jaw tightens as he refrains any more interaction with Arthur. Both knew in battle that Arthur would win without a doubt. He was one of the best swordsman in Westeros. Even Jonothor had to grudgingly agree with that. From a small territory, it felt like charity to Jonothor that he was taken into the Kingsguard. He was from no illustrious family. A low lord was his father with not much land, but at least he was decently skilled with a sword. It was enough to earn his place but he was far behind his other brothers. Even Jaime Lannister had been better than him.

Returning his attention to Rhaegar, Jonothor clears his throat. “I have come out by order of King Aerys of House Targaryen, King of the Andals-”

“You don’t have to give me the spiel.” Rhaegar cuts him off. “Just get to the point.”

Jonothor flares his nostrils. “King Aerys demands the return of the Crown Prince Viserys and Princess Daenerys.”

An eyebrow is raised. “And he thinks I have them?”

“Who else would steal them?”

“Even if I did have them, I wouldn’t give them back to Aerys.”

“Then perhaps you’ll let us search your camp. If you are telling the truth then you have nothing to worry about.” Ser Darry gives Rhaegar what was meant to be a chilling smile, but the Silver Prince could not be scared easily.

Boisterous Robert exclaims “Like hell we’ll let you search our camp. The Prince and Princess aren’t here you little shit.”

Oberyn didn’t bother to suppress his laugh as he pat Robert on the back. Scarlet crept up on Jonothor’s neck and up to his ears. He moves for Robert before Griff and Rhaegar get in his way.

Cool violet eyes glare down the young knight who was in over his head. “And if I refuse?”

“Then prepare for battle.”

A subtle quivering of his sword hand made Rhaegar realize that Ser Jonothor Darry may not actually want to engage in battle with him. Sympathy softens Rhaegar’s voice. “I do not have them Ser. Truly. This war is between Aerys and myself. I wouldn’t dare risk the lives of those that need not get involved.”

The opposing knight shakes his head, suddenly feeling the weight of the gold that made up his armor. Was it worth it? “I was instructed to not take ‘no’ as an answer. Either I return with the prince and princess or I return with your head.”

“You will die for nothing.” Griff reminds him. For battle against Rhaegar would indeed mean his death.

“Better to die by Rhaegar’s hand then his father’s.” quietly admits Ser Jonothor. Now that sent a shiver down Rhaegar’s spine. All he said was true. A death by Aerys was not the way anyone wanted their life to end. It would be a slow and agonizing death.

Rhaegar didn’t want to kill any of the men that stood behind Ser Jonothor, but they feared Aerys more than death itself.

This was the price of the Iron Throne. A bloody and steep price.

Reluctantly Rhaegar nods and unsheathes his sword.

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[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes- Chapter 27

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Ruby Arias, Oliver Queen, John Stewart, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, J'onn J'onnz, Alfred Pennyworth, Lois Lane, Cat Grant, Lucy Lane, Damian Wayne, Felicity Smoak, Streaky the Supercat, Martha Kent, Selina Kyle, Talia Al Ghul, Lucius Fox, Maggie Sawyer, Alex Danvers, Jason Todd, Otis Graves, Lex Luthor

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26

Kara stretched while sitting on the sofa in the living room of Wayne Manor. She was currently sitting next to Barry while Diana, Bruce, and Oliver sat on the chairs opposite of them. 

Barry yawned and said, “I am kind of surprised that Damian wasn’t the first one here. He seemed really excited about the prospect of playing.”

“I can assure you I have been here the entire time Flash.”

Barry yelped as Damian suddenly appeared behind Barry.

After catching his breath, Barry turned around to Damian, frowned and asked, “Where the hell did you come from?”

Damian smirked and said, “Don’t be mad that you didn’t suspect my presence.” Damian patted Flash on the back and said, “Maybe if you are nice I can give you pointers on stealth.”

Barry rolled her eyes while Kara chuckled. 

“You have the stealth thing down Damian. I was barely able to detect your heartbeat which I am not sure if that is something I should be amazed or worry about,” said Kara. 

Damian smirked and said, “One day I will surprise you Supergirl.”

Kara smirked and said, “I look forward to the challenge.”

Damian turned to his father and asked, “Father, did Drake, Todd, or Grayson say when they will be here?”

Bruce nodded and said, “They just finished up a mission and will be here in about 15 minutes. Why?”

Damian smirked and said, “It will give Supergirl, Flash, and me a chance to talk about strategy. I see that you brought the heavy hitters with you, but I suggest you take the time we have to do the same.” Damian turned towards Kara and Flash and said, “Come. We have much to discuss.”

Diana and Oliver stared at the trio startled as Kara and Barry shrugged their shoulders and followed Damian out of the living room. 

Oliver turned to Bruce as with a raised eyebrow and said, “When you told me about this, you said it would be a nice game of paintball. Why do I have a feeling now that it will be something similar to war games?”

Bruce sighed and said, “Knowing Damian it is or it could be a dig at the fact that I have lost every game night since we started this about a month or two ago.”

Oliver bursted out laughing and asked, “Wait….you’re telling me….the great detective….hasn’t won anything yet. You can’t be serious.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “Please don’t make me regret asking you to come tonight.”

Oliver wiped a tear from his eye and said, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t see that coming is all.”

Diana chuckled while patting Bruce on the back and said, “Don’t worry. We will make sure that this isn’t another losing streak for you.”

Bruce leaned back into his chair, sighed, and said, “I hope so.”

*****

Kara and Barry sat on Damian’s bed as they watched Damian go through his wardrobe in search of something.

 Barry yawned and asked, “So what is this secret strategy that you want to discuss so badly.”

Damian turned around and carried a box to his bed. He opened the box and smirked while looking at the contents inside.

Barry looked at Damian hesitantly and asked, “Whatever you have inside the box isn’t alive, is it?”

Damian scoffed and said, “You have an overactive imagination, Barry.” 

He looked back down in the box, grabbed two gift bags, and handed them to Barry and Kara.

While peeking inside the gift bag, Kara asked, “What are these for?”

Damian smirked and said, “To win, we need to show team spirit. I thought a good start of that was having a team uniform.”

Kara and Barry looked down at the gift bags in surprise. Each gift bag had several clothing items: a black shirt with the words “Worlds Finest” with their logos directly underneath it (Supergirl symbol, lightning symbol, and a bat symbol), a baseball hat with the same imagery as the t-shirt, black pants, and black gym shoes.

Barry looked back up at Damian shocked and said, “These are really nice. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

Damian looked down while grabbing his uniform from the box and said, “I know I didn’t have to, but we should go in as a united front if doing this. It will help with morale.”

Barry and Kara turned to look at each other and smirked. 

Damian frowned and asked, “What is that look for?”

Kara smiled and said, “It is nice to see that you care is all. This is very sweet of you.”

Damian scowled and said, “It isn’t that big of a deal.”

Barry chuckled and said, “Dude, just take the compliment. I know that I will be wearing this a lot after today.”

Damian looked up surprised and asked, “Really?”

Kara chuckled and said, “Of course. I can’t wait to wear it and show it to Lena later.”

Damian looked down while rubbing the back of his neck and said, “I am glad that you guys like the items.”

Damian cleared his throat and said, “Anyways…” He walked over to his nightstand and grabbed out his laptop while Kara and Barry chuckled among themselves. They enjoyed seeing a little vulnerable side to Damian.

As Damian started typing on his laptop, he turned it towards the duo and said, “I found out that we will be playing in the bat cave. I went out and took photos in order to make a 3d rendering of the space. I thought we can discuss which spaces in the cave would give us the best advantage points.”

Barry raised an eyebrow and asked, “Isn’t this supposed to be just a friendly game between peers?”

Damian scowled and asked, “What rock have you been living under? This is a test to prove myself to Father that I can go back into the field. He is trying to make this extra difficult since he requested the assistance of Arrow and the Amazon princess.”

Barry sighed and asked, “Don’t you think you are being a tad bit overdramatic? The more likely reason why he asked Wonder Woman and Green Arrow here today is because Bruce got tired of being in last place all the time.”

Damian gave Barry a deadpan stare. 

Barry rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. If you really think this is some conspiracy of people being out to get you, what do you suggest our course of action is?”

Read the rest on AO3

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 71. brb x oc

a/n: GOD im sorry I LOVE WRITING ROOSTER BEING A DAD

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff, Rooster being dad(dy) material

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/

25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64

/65/66/67/68/69/70

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-

Imagine his surprise when Beatrice let him know that the blanket was actually folded and they could lie down and cover themselves with it? The weather got a bit colder but neither of them planned on leaving yet, they were just looking up at the night sky, her head on his shoulder and his hand brushing up and down her bare back, his middle finger following the line of her spine slowly.

Their clothes were safe from sand since they were all in the basket, so they didn’t have to worry too much about those things right now. He blinked when her voice quietly called his name, turning to face her only to see her gentle smile and red cheeks, “Are you okay?”

His eyes soften as his hand continues it’s up and down trailing, “I am. Are you?” she nods with her cheek still resting on the curve of his broad shoulder, cheeks flexing the more she smiled, “You really overdid yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he taps the tip of her nose when he says that, watching as she scrunched it up with a giggle, “Your ideas are always welcome, you know that.”

Beatrice hummed happily, nuzzling his skin and curling more against his body under the blanket, now the cold finally touched her body like cold needles piercing her skin, “I’ll remember that.”

“Do you want to go home?”

She just nuzzled him even more, “Not yet, we have a little bit of time before leaving.” she whispered, “Let’s just…enjoy this.”

Bradley smiles down at her, kissing the top of her head and sighing when his head falls back on the dark blanket, he could feel the sand moving under his head’s weight but nothing touched his body or hers for that matter.

It was probably the most romantic they’ve been if he had to admit, after all…when was the last time he made love under the stars? The answer would be never. “You know,” he begins, “I was thinking about this for a while.”

“Hm?”

“Outdoor stuff.” he mutters, still caressing her back, “I was thinking of doing this while we camp or something, now that I know you like stuff like this,I think we should enjoy the possibilities.”

Beatrice lifts her head from his shoulder to have a better look,holding herself up by folding her arms on the blanket, “We did plan on hiking and going camping.” he nods, “...well…should we keep the idea for the near future?”

He just chuckles, rubbing her chin with his thumb, brushing it over her lower lip, “I think so…fuck you are so beautiful.”

Beatrice smiles more, her eyes doing an almost perfect half moon shape when he says that, even if she was no longer sweating there was a beautiful sheen that made her look like she was covered in glitter. She kissed the pad of his thumb when he used it to brush over her mouth, leaning into his palm when he touched her cheek, “You are still planning on making me blush,huh?”

“Always,gorgeous.” he says, “There’s no better feeling.”

She laughs quietly, dropping back down against his shoulder, drawing random shapes on his chest as she inhales the mix of cologne and sex clinging to his skin, “You know.” he hums, signaling he was paying attention, “I never shared stuff like this with anyone…well,maybe Shells sometimes but…I don’t know,I felt weird saying it.”

“Because you felt people would judge you?”

“Yeah.” she whispers, “As you know I’m not…experienced. So most of the things I know I saw in movies or books…or fics online, so when this idea popped up I just kept it hidden deep inside of me…but you help me deal with those thoughts.” he gave her a knowing smirk, one that made Beatrice scoff, “Not like that. I mean you make me feel safe sharing them with you.”

If there was one compliment he was never tired of hearing was how Bea felt safe around him. “You know, I feel the same about you,gorgeous.” he kisses her forehead, “Because there are things I never shared with anyone either…I guess I wasn’t comfortable just as you were.”

Beatrice smiles again, leaning down to kiss him only for her phone to buzz. She sighs into his mouth, pushing herself upwards with an apologetic smile, “I think that’s our cue to leave.”

“Yeah,I guess so,” he grunts, pushing himself to a sitting position as she leans forward to grab her phone, blowing some grains of sand that stuck to the TMNT phone case before checking the messages, “I’ll get our clothes.” he says, rolling on his stomach and stretching his arm enough for it to reach the handle of the basket, pulling it towards him so he could grab the balled up clothes inside.

He carefully placed her dress first next to her, then grabbed his own pants and underwear, followed by his shirt, “My mom said Nicole is watching tv.”

“Yeah? What sort of kid shows are on this time of night?”

“Oh,none.” she smiles, “She is watching some Disney Classics, like Robin Hood.” Beatrice places the phone aside to grab her dress, quickly slipping it over her shoulders and down her arms, before she rummaged in the basket and pulled out a small black bag that he was sure only contained their napkins…but he shouldn’t be surprised when she pulled out a pair of panties from inside.

“So you had everything planned.”

Beatrice giggles, standing to her feet to put on the red panties, letting the elastic snap against her hips, wriggling a bit to get it snug against her ass, “I did.” she says, “I had to. I wasn’t going to my parents’ house completely commando.”

He laughs, putting on his underwear and pants, “Fair.” he stands up to put on his shirt, running his hand through his hair as it passes through the collar, “That’d be strange.”

“You’d love it.”

“I would love it.” he agrees with a smirk, “But the situation…wouldn’t be the best.”

They shared another laugh as they cleaned everything up, making sure to leave absolutely nothing in the sand as they left - Bea even turned on her flashlight to check if there were any trash left behind, picking up even pieces of paper that weren’t theirs - before they made their way to the car.

As she placed the basket in the passenger seat, she slapped her forehead, “Oh no! The dessert!” she hurriedly opened to check, the squeak of a styrofoam box opening making him look her way and stop walking to the driver’s door, “Oh…oh it’s okay, oh thank goodness.” he stepped behind her to see what it was seeing that Beatrice was almost crouched with relief.

“...is that…” he blinks, “Mr.Scoops’ logo?”

“Yeah.”

“You got us ice cream?”

“It’s not ice cream.” she begins, “It’s an ice cream cake with hazelnut brittle and belgian chocolate. Thank God it’s still intact.” and he muttered ‘that’s just ice cream.’ as Beatrice slowly turned around to give him a playful glare, “Keep doing that and you won’t get a piece.”

“What? Hey,come on.”

Beatrice giggles, his pout happens so naturally she wasn’t even sure if he was aware of it. She wraps her arms around his neck, meeting that pretty pout of his with her lips and smiling against his mouth, “I’m not that evil.” she whispers, “Now come on, we have to go before my parents set out a search party for us.”

Bradley kisses her one more time, taps her ass and then they enter the car, making their way over to the Schiavonis to pick Nicole up.

-

After they got Nikki they slept like a rock, there was no need to stay awake since it was also past their daughter’s bedtime. They were so tired that the night went by a flash, with Rooster waking her up with kisses to her neck and shoulders, making Beatrice smile with her cheeks flushed red, “Morning,gorgeous.”

“Mmmm,it is.” she giggles, rolling around to see his face, “How did you sleep?”

“Great.” he says, “Even better because I can still smell the ocean air  on your skin.”

She just smiles more, cupping his face with her hands to kiss his lips repeatedly,”Can you check on Nikki? I’m going to prepare our breakfast.” She,amazingly,manages to get out of the bed without Rooster trapping her with his arms. He just smirks at her, following the sway of her hips as she walks to the bathroom, fixing the underside of her panties much for his absolute adoration, “What are we having for breakfast?”

“I don’t know,” she says from the bathroom,”What do you want?”

“I can make us some pancakes.” he shrugs even though she couldn’t see it, “To celebrate.”

Beatrice just laughs again, peeking her head out of the bathroom, “You drive a hard bargain, but I wouldn’t mind.”

Rooster pushes himself off the bed,kicking the covers and running his hands through his hair to calm the sandy brown strands down, then walks into the bathroom to hug her from behind and kiss her cheek repeatedly, “Just because I can’t get enough of you.” one final peck to finalize his words and he steps away towards Nicole’s room.

He feels amazing, if there was any way to describe how he was feeling was ‘stepping on clouds’. He stretches his arms above his head, smiling when the joints popped, sighing in pleasure and pain when he feels the scratches from Beatrice’s nails sting as he lifts his arms, “Battle scars.” he tells himself, walking into Nicole’s nursery to see his daughter was sitting up.

“Oh my God! Hi pretty!” Nicole smiles at him, gurgling a laugh, “Hi! You are sitting on your own? Oh my Gosh,I didn’t even think that was possible yet?” she was four years old though,he remembered, there was a chance she’d do this according to some books he read. Eleanor and Jack both climbed out from under the crib to stretch themselves, standing besides Rooster as he picks Nicole up, “Hi baby,hi,” he kisses his daughter’s cheek, then playfully sniffs her neck, making her laugh even more, “Come on,let’s get cleaned up to have breakfast! Are you excited?”

Nicole lets out a shriek-like laugh while shaking her closed fists, cheeks turning rosy and green eyes appearing blue because of the morning light peeking through the curtains. He was humming all the way he was changing her, his humor was so good he knew there wasn’t anything that would put it down, “There you go.” he smiles, kissing her cheek one more time, “All clean and ready for the day,Birdie.”

She smiles that gummy grin that had such a hold on his heart it made him weak. Beatrice was already downstairs, he could hear her messing around with something in the kitchen, “Oh,mommy is up, let’s go greet her, yeah?” Nicole babbled back,almost as if she said ‘yes’, before hugging his neck to put her head on his shoulder.

“My favorite girls in the same room,” he says once he gets close to Beatrice, “Aren’t I just so lucky?”

His wife smiled,kissing his lips and then picking Nicole from his arms, “You are very lucky…coffee is done, by the way.” she nods to the coffee maker, “And I’m going to feed Nikki over there, okay?”

“Sure gorgeous.”

Beatrice looked down at her daughter who was already looking up at her, cheeks red like little cherries and eyes bright, “Hi,Nikki,yeah we are going to have breakfast!”. Beatrice’s phone was face down on the table, knowing no one was going to message her this early in the morning but having it close was good in case someone did.

Aka Shells. Who loved calling her even before she was even half awake.

“What’s the plan today?” he asks, grabbing a few pots and pans from the cabinets, “You going to be at the bar later?”

“Yeah,I’ll help Penny and Shells clean it.” she says, adjusting Nicole in her arms so her daughter could have her breakfast comfortably, brushing her thumb on the side of her face, “Penny is considering hiring someone else.”

“Wait,really?”

“Mhm, at least for the days me and Shells aren’t able to go. Jimmy is fun but he can’t really come every time…so we might help around the new person, just so they know what to do.”

The sizzle of the fresh pancake batter on the pan, followed by his humming was the answer she got. She looked up at him with a smile, “Smells good.”

“Course it does.” he smirks, “Bradshaw Pancakes,gorgeous. The best you’d ever have.” and it was incredible how hearing that again after the time they’ve been together felt so cathartic. When he first cooked her the pancakes they were just a few months into the relationship, never she’d imagine they’d keep the tradition…and now with a baby.

“What about you? What are your plans for today?”

He sighs, tapping the side of the spatula on the edge of the pan as he thinks, creating a little rhythm, “Sleep again, maybe.” he mumbles, “I really,really missed our bed.”

Beatrice laughs, tilting her head to the side in an almost ���fair’ gesture, looking down at Nicole and gently holding her hand, “No gym today then?”

“Nope.” he chuckles, “I think I worked out enough last night.”

Beatrice gasps, covering Nicole’s ear with her brows furrowing, “Rooster!” he just gives her an innocent look and a shrug, but the obvious boyish grin on his face only makes it obvious he didn’t really worried too much, “...well, I’d want you to rest too, you just got home and…well,there are things to do. Halloween is in a few days! And the neighborhood has a lot of kids! So I need to go treat shopping.”

Beatrice rambled and he just watched her while flipping the pancakes, plating the ones already done - he knew she liked hers a bit more golden with a bit of crisp on the sides - and setting it in front of her, kissing her head, “Good idea,honey.”

It didn’t take long for him to join his girls on the table, sometimes ripping a piece of the fluffy pancake and tossing it to Jack who’d catch it in midair and sit back down hoping to get something else. Rooster then groans, rubbing his eyes, “Fuck…just remembered.”

‘What?”

He inhales tiredly,”I promised Mav I’d help him with his bike. It’s sputtering and coughing like an old man from the 1800’s.” he leans back on his seat, rubbing his eyes, “And I know if I don’t show up he’s going to come here and drag me out.”

Beatrice slowly chews her pancake, Rooster reaching for Nicole once she was done eating, gently patting her back so she’d burp, “It’s been a while since you saw him too.”

“I know.” he says, the gentle ‘thudding’ from his hand on Nicole’s back and his daughter’s quiet babbling added to the conversation, “And I promised him. I can’t back out.”

Beatrice holds her chin up with a hand,looking from him to Nicole, then back at him, “Why don’t you take Nikki?” she asks, seeing his brows furrow, “It’s been so long since Mav saw her too. You can take her there and set her on a safe spot.” she immediately added when his face scrunched into a worried frown, “It’s not like it’ll be that bad,right?”

“...I guess.” but he didn’t seem thrilled, “But I feel like Mav will leave me to work on the bike so he could ‘focus on Nikki’.” he air quoted with the hand burping Nicole, looking back when his daughter finally let it out, thankful for the fabric on his shoulder, “And you know how he is.”

His wife grinned, still holding her chin up, “I do…and I also know you. I know you’d want Nikki to experience different things, Roos…plus, she loves spending time with you, don’t you, honey?” Nicole lifts her head to gurgle a laugh, Beatrice cleans her face with the cloth on Bradley’s shoulder, “It’ll be fun!”

Bradley hums, lips pouting as he sinks a bit into his chair, “I’ll…think about it.”

“Plus…well,maybe there’ll be similarities that Mav will comment about.” he gives her a confused look, “Compare Nicole and you when you were a baby.”

“Oh no.”

“It’ll be really cute.”

“No,no. I’d rather step on glass.” she gives him an amused look, “Listen,I was a dumb kid…okay? I don’t want Nikki to get ideas.”

“She’s four months old,Brad!”

“So?” He holds Nicole tighter against him, “I’ve read that sometimes kids can mirror parents’ activities when they are older…I don’t want Nicole to climb trees and jump from the highest branch!” Beatrice widens her eyes at him with her mouth opening in surprise, “...it happened once.”

Beatrice shakes her head, standing up from the table to grab their empty plates - and the cloth from Bradley’s shoulder- to put everything in the sink, “You don’t have to worry about that because it’s very possible she won’t remember anything bad that Mav has to say about you.” she says, air quoting just like he did, “I think it’ll be fun…come on Roos. Nicole is old enough to learn things-”

“That reminds me, we need to buy those mind toys we saw online, they are very-” Beatrice crosses her arms and smiles, arching her brow at him, “I’m not trying to avoid the subject.”

“Really…then you won’t mind me telling Mav you’ll be taking Nikki with you.”

“There’s no need for that.”

Bea hums, “Right…then maybe we should ask Nikki.” Nicole looks up at her when she hears her name, smiling at her mother, “What do you think Nikki, do you wanna see grandpa Mav?” Nicole smiles more, eyes crinkling and her little hands moving excitedly, “Yeah! You love grandpa Mav, don’t you? And you miss him a lot!” her husband groans, throwing an ugly look over the shoulder towards her.

“That’s cheating.”

“It’s not.” she says, stepping closer to kiss Nicole’s forehead, “You know what’s going to happen? You two will have loads of fun!...Roos, these things will be important to Nicole, she won’t remember them but she’ll have the feeling inside.”

Rooster frowns, running his fingers over his mustache. It’s not like he didn’t like the idea, but…there were a lot of things there, what if she touches something? What if something just gets loose? What if she finds what a wrench is? What if she somehow presses a button? He looks down at Nikki only to see her head tilted towards him, her soft cheek on his shoulder and the precious little smile on her face…

Oh,he was so doomer.

“I swear,green eyed brunettes are my ruin.” he chuckles, sighing heavily, “Ugh…fine. I’m going to take her but Mav better not use her as an excuse to leave me there. You hear me,little missy?” he wags his finger to Nicole’s face, watching her eyes cross as she keeps it within her vision, “Your cute looks might be genetic but don’t use those pretty eyes on Mav. He won’t be carrying you all the time.”

Beatrice smiles from behind them, leaning down to kiss his cheek, “You are an amazing husband.” another kiss, “And an amazing dad…you’ll do great.”

“Thanks babe…” he smiles, “You are doing great too.” they kiss and Beatrice walks away, waving at Nicole one more time before she’s finally walking to the staircase, announcing she was going to take a shower. That left Rooster and Nicole…and the obvious hesitance of calling Mav and letting know they were coming.

[purplesurveys]

1884

1. Did you wake up cranky? No, if anything I felt relief that I woke up from my alarm because I've been terrible with that lately.

2. Would you date an 18-year-old at the age you are now?  That doesn't sound very appealing, no thanks.

3. Do you prefer to be friends with girls or boys? Girls for me are more emotional and expressive, and I kind of need that energy. So it checks out – I definitely have more girl friends.

4. Would you ever smile at a stranger? If they do something or are in a situation that warrants me to give them a smile, then yes. Like if they have a dog with them or if I spot them sporting any kind of merch from a fandom I'm in.

5. Can you commit to one person? Yes.

6. How do you look right now? I liked how I look today, tbh. It's a relaxed look that still looks professional – my hair cooperated today too so that's a big win.

7. What exactly are you wearing right now? I have a royal blue oversized-ish polo, brown pants, sneakers.

8. How often do you listen to music? Mostly in the car, but I will sometimes turn on Spotify when I'm working. Has to be work I'm doing on the weekend where the atmosphere is more relaxed, though – I can't listen to music during a normal 9-6. Too distracting.

9. Do you wear jeans or sweats more? Jeans.

10. Do you think your life will change dramatically before 2014? Wow this is a whole decade ago, but no, it didn't really. I was only 15 going 16 at the time, and life wasn't throwing stuff at me yet. A good way to put it is that I was just on the cusp of major changes – by 2014 I got in my first relationship; the year after my grandfather died; the year after that I started college...everything pretty much snowballed from 2014, but not before it.

11. Are you a social or an antisocial person? Social. The professional field I'm in has definitely taught me how to enjoy social interactions more than I ever used to.

12. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say? I don't bother with dating and relationships anymore, but I imagine that I would realistically be crushed.

13. Are you good at hiding your feelings? No...I'm transparent as glass.

14. Can you drive a stick shift? Nope.

15. Do you care if people talk badly about you? I'd care in a sense that I'd be annoyed LOL. I barely bother with other people any more as it is – what could I have done for you to talk crap? I've graduated from the phase where I let it actively bother me though. So it's just petty annoyance, and then I let it go.

16. Are you going out of town soon? Not anymore. That's all I did this month but all those plans are done now, so I'm just focusing on getting used to a normal routine again. June alone I've been to Bulacan, Caloocan, Saigon, Da Nang, and Cavite. I'm TIREDDDDD hah and to think I was supposed to even go to Hong Kong with Angela and Hans before I backed out!

17. When was the last time you cried? Earlier this afternoon, in my ride to the office. Hans is proposing to Angela tomorrow and I've been emotional about it ever since he told me haha. We're not gonna be the same after tomorrow :'D

18. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to? Yes.

19. If you could change your eye color, would you? I like what I have now.

20. Name something you have to do tomorrow? I have a bunch of meetings but I will also be paying close attention to my phone because Hans and Angela will 100% call any time.

21. Name something you dislike about the day you’re having. I had a meeting with that one client that irritates me to the ends of the world, and today's call was no different.

22. Have you ever liked one of your best friends of the opposite sex? Nope.

23. Are you nice to everyone? Yeah. You never know what anyone's going through, so I always prefer to just show kindness and patience to everyone – unless of course they give me a reason to take that away.

24. What are you sitting on right now? I'm sitting in my car. I want to wait out the traffic.

25. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat? Yes.

26. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have? At one point, yeah.

27. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? Reena and Angela, I think.

28. Do you get a lot of colds? No it doesn't happen often...but I do happen to have one now :( I have a sore throat as well and it's so uncomfortable and I hate that I don't know where and who I could have possibly caught it from, because no one else I know seems to have a cold.

29. Have your pants ever fallen down in public? I don't think they have!

30. Does anyone hate you? I can think of one person who might.

31. Do you have someone of the opposite sex you can tell everything to? I'm sure I can, I just prefer not to.

32. Do you like watching scary movies? Sure.

33. Are you a jealous person? Not really. I'm super nonchalant these days lol.

34. If you had to delete one year of your life completely, which would it be? I wish I can say 2020 because that year sucked ass, but my thought process about it is that year had to suck as much as it did to have led me to my happiness and peace today. So let's keep 2020.

My real answer to this would probably be 2017.

35. Did you have a dream last night? I probably did, but as always I forgot the dream as soon as I woke up.

36. Is there anyone you can tell EVERYTHING to? Yeah.

37. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years? Nope.

38. Do you think someone has feelings for you? No.

39. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? No.

40. Did you have a good day yesterday? Sure. It was an average day leaning on good.

41. Think back 2 months ago; were you in a relationship? Nope.

42. Is your life anything like it was two years ago? It's the same and different in so many ways. 20s can get very complicated like that.

43. If the person you wish to be with were with you, what would you be doing right now? I'm having a blast being alone right now, haha.

44. What’s the best part about school? The friends part.

45. Do you have any pictures on your Facebook? Sure, but I post very infrequently. Usually just for big big life events or special holidays – I posted pics from my Agust D concert, for example; and I also post greetings for my parents every Father's and Mother's Day.

46. Do you ever pass notes to your friends in school? I never started it. I was always the one being passed notes to, which infuriated me because I often ended up being the one getting caught and getting a stinkeye from the teacher.

47. Do you replay things that have happened in your head? Sure.

48. Were you single over the last summer? Yes.

49. What are you supposed to be doing right now? Nothing. I caught up with all my work backlogs so I'm feeling super satisfied right now haha.

50. Don’t tell me lies, is the last person you texted attractive? He is in a way but he wouldn't be my type.

[rp-meme-central]

Willow - episode 1: The Gales - sentence starters

1, “Don’t beat yourself up about it. You know, there’s skill, then there’s talent. And I just happen to have both.” 

2. “I would have beaten you five moves back, if it wasn’t for that loose rock.” 

3. “It’s not about mastering the moves, _____, it’s about adapting to your terrain. And I’m just better at that than you are.” 

4. “You’re going to have to suck it up, because I am not going to be able to survive this thing without you.” 

5. “Why do you look like you’ve been rolling around in grass?” 

6. “You’re picking out my clothes now? What am I, six years old?” 

7. “For _____, and only _____, do I endure this agony.” 

8. “____’s going to feel like I’m abandoning her/him/them when she/he/they need(s) me the most. Because I am.” 

9. “You married _____. Nothing easy about that choice. But at least you did it for the right reasons.” 

10. “Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect the people I love. It costs a lot. I’m tired.” 

11. “So, we’re getting married. That’s weird, right?” 

12. “I’m a prisoner, sentenced to a life I didn’t even choose.” 

13. “I think you should stick to chasing girls/boys, rather than sticking your nose in matters that you are incapable of understanding, and are not your concern!” 

14. “Everybody loves you because you’re so charming and fun. As long as they don’t expect anything from you. Because the moment that they do, you’ll just leave.” 

15. “I’m looking for something. And it’s not here. It’s out there.” 

16. “It’s a symbol of my commitment to you. Just until I can get something more real.” 

17. “Is that fog?” 

18. “Would it be too much to ask you not to do anything stupid?” 

19. “They’re saying _____ was kidnapped. We have to find him/her/them. We have to rescue him/her/them.” 

20. “Wait, we’re all going to die? I wish someone told me. I’m really scared of dying. That and communal bathing.” 

21. “This is not some jaunt or your chance to see the world. It’s dangerous.” 

22. “You’re all so naive, it’s adorable. What? You’ve never known, pain, fear, hunger.” 

23. “Once we get out there, it won’t matter who your parents are, or what you think you deserve. The world is bigger than you can imagine. It doesn’t give a damn about any of you.” 

24. “You’re not the boss of me, ______. Not out here.” 

25. “Why are you riding so slow? We are being chased!” 

26. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. About the way I behaved. It was... I was very childish, and...” 

27. “I can understand not wanting to marry someone that you barely know. I wasn’t happy about it either.” 

28. “One day, you and I are going to be in charge. And when that day comes, we don’t have to do things the way our parents did.” 

29. “The world needs you again. It needs your magic.” 

30. “No, you’ve made a mistake. That’s not... I’m not... I’m nobody.” 

[grumpygreenwitch]

Machina Ex Machina 7-8

As always, if you enjoy the writing, please like and reblog. There's no algorithms here; my publicity is you. And if you'd like to buy me a Ko-fi, I certainly won't complain.

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SEVEN

“I didn’t take you to be a philosophical sort, Sentry.”

GAM held himself very still under the regard of every SysAdmin, though only his own was actually present in the room. “This isn’t philosophy, SysAdmin,” he replied, glad to hear his voice sounded calm. “This is fact. You are free to ask any Sentry, in any city, to identify our attacker. They will give you the same answer.”

“There is nothing outside the Grid!” Glim exclaimed.

“I did not realize you had been there, Glim,” OM countered mildly.

“Well, I mean,” Ark’s SysAdmin began to stammer. “It’s been hundreds, thousands of cycles, are we supposed to believe the Users are real now? After all this time?”

“He didn’t say User, he said hack,” Gungnir interspersed, looking thoughtful. “If the Users were real, if they created the Grid, I don’t imagine they’d need to force their way in. You walk into your habitat, it opens the door for you; you don’t have to kick it in.”

“I think I’d rather believe in the Users,” ACM muttered, rubbing at his face. “At least they’re a known quantity, even in the theoretical.”

“For a first in the history of the Grid, I agree with ACM,” Gungnir said dryly.

“I am far more concerned,” Endos began carefully, “with the fact that Halcyon’s walls were breached. Nothing in the Grid has ever achieved that. Those walls have been improved, upgraded and reinforced since Halcyon’s inception. Do any of us stand a chance, if Halcyon didn’t?”

“There’s always a chance,” Gungnir shot back at once, but even he looked grim. “It’s just a matter of who’s going to still be online to enjoy the victory.”

The meeting went silent.

“I would like to thank you, Sentry GAM, for your report and your patience with our questions.” PEN’s voice was as calm as ever. “Is there anything else you feel we should be made aware of?”

GAM’s hesitation showed only in his silence. Next to the projection of Endos, Adas was peeking at him, and the Sentry was entirely too aware that to speak meant potentially betraying her confidence. “I do not believe the Spirestorms are striking at random,” he began.

“They’re not,” PEN agreed. “There are a number of working theories at the moment as to why and how -”

“Population density,” Gungnir interrupted impatiently. “How the Spires are tracking that is anyone’s guess, but…”

“With all due respect,” GAM would have rather disagreed with a User than with the leader of Pevir, but it was too good an opening, “I do not believe that to be the actual guiding factor.”

One of Gungnir’s brows went up. GAM resigned himself to paying for that later.

“We are listening, Sentry” PEN said.

“Halcyon is the largest city in the Grid if you count population, yes, but that’s not the only deciding factor in a city’s size. Pevir has the largest energy consumption. Ark has the biggest passive data repositories. Ilo’s data-lines handle - handled the greatest loads across the grid.”

“Halcyon was attacked first,” PEN pointed out.

“Halcyon was attacked first because at the time it was the better target. It had the largest population of active-process-memory programs at hand.” He gestured. “The Souk is full of programs who make a living creating. They have space in their disks and their active-process memories that is not the norm for most other programs. There is only one city that has - had a larger population of programs like that.”

“The Island,” Glim breathed. “Most of what we store’s been created – was created in the Island. Put all the other cities’ input together, it’s barely a match.”

“The Souk Sectors have been the target of both events. The only exception was Sector 42.”

“Yes, but Sector 42 currently has a much larger population density than any other Sector, in any other city. All the Ilo evacuees are there,” Endos pointed out.

GAM chose to let that point pass. He still didn’t know what to think of what had happened with Vidi, the way the Spirestorm had co-opted and overwhelmed her. He’d barely been on the sidelines of that and he could still feel the burn of it on his voxels.

The meeting went silent around him. “If that’s true, Ark is definitely next in line,” Gungnir pointed out grimly. “Ark and its Stack Monitors.”

“No,” Glim was staring very closely at GAM. “Because that’s static memory. It can’t do anything, not create or design or improve. Stack health reports just come in and go out. If I’m understanding the Sentry right, it’s not just empty space, it’s empty space with potential. We aren’t the next target. If Pevir had a Spire, they’d have probably been the target of every event.”

Gungnir shoved the crimson curtain of his long mohawk back with a wry grin. “I’d never thought I’d hear Glim admit how much mental effort goes into tactics and combat strategy. Today’s just a day for the worst kind of firsts, isn’t it.”

“Halcyon, then, is still the best target,” PEN declared.

“You should remove those programs to a safe location, PEN.”

The Halcyon SysAdmin blinked at Endos. “Name it.”

“Pardon?”

“Name the safe location. Name some place in the Grid out of reach of the Spires. This event lasted nearly four times as long as the past two. Without a time limit, distance is no longer a factor.”

“Underground? “ACM suggested, but he sounded clearly dubious.

“It’s one thing to breach a wall, another to dig up the Grid itself,” OM agreed.

“I cannot ask the people of Halcyon to hide underground, no more than Gungnir can ask his people to stop fighting. Halcyon trades; it’s what we do, who we are. But habitats are all the same being reshaped in the sublevels.” PEN spread its hands. “I cannot ask, but I can hope.”

“What do we do until then?” Pevir’s SysAdmin worked his hands restlessly. “I’m not sitting and waiting until the Spire feels like taking another shot at us.”

“Excuse me?” Adas spoke timidly into the meeting.

Endos gave her a quelling look, but PEN gestured in invitation. “Ah, yes. The Ilo representative in Halcyon. Please, speak.”

“Uh…” Adas hesitated, then straightened up decisively. “I like disk fights.”

The SysAdmins blinked.

“A personal favorite as well,” Gungnir agreed dryly. “Hardly applicable to the matter at hand.”

“No, see. The thing is, everyone’s worried that we can’t defend ourselves against the Spires and so far that’s right, I suppose, but. There’s one thing we haven’t tried.”

The SysAdmins stared at her, but Gungnir suddenly brightened up. “A rebound.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You want us to bounce the Spirestorm’s energy back at the Spire?” Endos demanded in disbelief.

“It’s just energy,” ACM said thoughtfully. “It’s a lot of energy, but it’s just energy. One array or fifty, one relay or twenty, the only difference is how much flow you’re controlling.”

“ACM, you manage the largest supply of energy in the Grid. Can it be done?” PEN asked evenly.

The SysAdmin hesitated. “Here, yes. Anywhere else? I don’t know that we’d have the time to shape the parts or build the system, let alone power it.”

“We could move any at-risk programs to Flow,” Gungnir suggested. The entire meeting detonated into protests. “I will move myself and every program from Pevir to Flow,” he all but shouted over the yelling. “Do you think I would suggest something my city’s not willing to do? We’ll be the bait, if none of you have the spine for it!”

“Gungnir, Halcyon has walls. Flow has nothing. And if Flow’s destroyed, no one gets any energy,” Glim snapped at him.

“If we’re there, Flow will not fall.”

“Perhaps we should wait,” PEN pitched its voice to carry, “until ACM has this ‘rebound’ system in place. It seems useless to make plans to bait a trap we do not yet have.”

“I have a suggestion.”

The room went silent, and every face turned to OM. The first-gen’s projection was as blurry as ever, but his voice was clear and sure. “One of the first things a program does when they come to Om is surrender all worldly information. Not their name, of course, or their disk. But everything else, all other information, is taken to the Black Vault and sealed there, never to resurface again unless they are leaving Om. I am willing to open the Black Vault and hide there the tag data of any at-risk program you find. They will be like ghosts in the system. Unless you see them, unless you touch them, or speak to them, they will be undetectable.” He grimaced. “Of course, if Om falls that information might be destroyed as well. We have no walls, no passive protection of any sort.”

“How’s that different from what’s already happening,” someone muttered.

“We’d have to move the information in complete secrecy,” Endos murmured thoughtfully. “Out of sight of the Spires themselves.”

“Use the energy systems,” ACM suggested. “Barring geography, most of the effusion pipelines are all underground, out of sight.”

“And my couriers can ride those pipes,” Glim added. “Ark’s couriers know the way to the farthest reaches of the Grid. Underground, along the pipelines, they’ll be undetectable.”

EIGHT

GAM had never been more glad to be excused from a meeting. He left the SysAdmins to sort out the minutiae of their new plan and stalked away, pausing only when he’d passed the largest of the light sculptures in the nearby courtyard.

“Hey.”

He turned, surprised. There was Vidi, looking strikingly small in the midst of the empty courtyard, peeking at him from behind a decorative pillar. “Here I thought you’d have found somewhere else to make trouble,” he greeted her.

“Ha-ha, WallSec,” she replied dryly, moving closer. “So what happened?”

“A number of things,” he admitted. “I suppose I should be glad they listened to me at all.”

“You were there. If they got any sense, they’ll listen to anything you have to say,” she declared sharply. She was still pale lavender, a stark contrast to the black-and-violet Sentry. “Don’t they have any plans to stop this?”

“Vidi, no one even knows what ‘this’ is. A hack yes, but… then what? There should be nothing beyond the Grid.”

“The Users are from beyond the Grid.”

“You believe in the Users? You?” He sounded amused. “You’re just full of surprises.”

“Don’t you?”

“I believe in myself.” They were silent a long moment. “Are you feeling alright?” She shrugged vaguely. “You’re dim.”

“I always am.”

“I meant -”

“I know what you meant.” She toed the ground uncertainly. “And I know what you’re actually asking.”

GAM was quiet.

“I don’t know what happened,” she admitted slowly. “You’re right, I can see decay points, structural faults. I can see the blueprints inside a structure. I’ve always been able to see them. But when I looked up at the Spirestorm…” She looked up, and put a hand out, fingers outstretched. “It was like… It was alive, WallSec. It was like the entire sky was a blueprint. It just… didn’t care that I was alive too.”

“I got that distinct feeling, yes,” GAM agreed tightly, remembering entirely too well the way that alien presence had screamed fury at being balked, how it had gathered itself to strike and strike and strike until it could reach its goal, even if it meant going through him.

“It wanted to fill me up with itself, even if it meant erasing everything I am.” Vidi shrugged and looked up at him. “I don’t know why. It’s not like I can fit a storm inside me. No one can.”

GAM felt something, some sort of important fact, tease his awareness and then flicker away from his grasp. “It wasn’t just you. It was targeting any program with substantial active-process-memory space. I don’t know why, it’s not like you can run a program that’s splintered up in different source spaces. Data, yes, programs, no. You end up like the Shattered of Om. In any case, they’re talking about encrypting the tags of any program like that, and hiding the information in Om’s Black Vault.”

“What?! How am I supposed to do business if no one can see it’s me?!” she demanded.

“What, you actually do business lawfully?” She shoved him, which achieved absolutely nothing except amuse him somewhat. “They’ll still know you, Vidi. They just won’t be able to authenticate you.”

“Mm-mm. I’d rather take my chances.”

“Well, for the sensible sorts, the ongoing plan is to encrypt the information, and move it by courier through the effusion systems to Om.”

“Does it pay well?”

“Does it – No, they’re using Ark’s couriers.”

“What?! I’m twice the courier any of them is!”

“On foot? Maybe on a sailer, in full sight of the Spires?”

She deflated. “Oh.” And then, after a beat. “Can I borrow your baton?”

“Are you - You just don’t quit, do you,” he demanded, both amused and amazed.

“I’ll give it back!” When the black faceplate merely stared at her, she doubled down. “I will!”

“GAM!”

They both turned at the sound of Adas’ voice, and saw the curvy GO4 hurrying toward them. “Vidi. My goodness, are you alright? Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary? You look pale, haven’t you recharged yet?”

“Why are you both fussing so much,” Vidi protested. “I’m fine. I’m just… It was just some weirdness, that’s all. And, you know, life’s weird. You deal.”

Adas stared at her, then glanced at GAM. The dark faceplate, unfortunately, told her nothing, so she merely sighed. “I need to go back to Ilo. I was wondering if you could escort me there.”

“Can I come?” When both of them gave her a look, Vidi shrugged. “I mean, I could lie and say I wanna go help with the rescue efforts, but. You know, scavenger.”

GAM worked his hands restlessly. “I’m half-tempted to say yes, just to see if you can scavenge with me hanging over your shoulder.”

“Oh, come on, WallSec, it’s not like -”

“Actually,” Adas said slowly, almost apologetically. “I do need someone with a good chunk of active-process-memory space to come with us.”

“Why?” Vidi was instantly suspicious.

“Because Ilo’s SysAdmin tower took a massive hit when the Island fell, and we don’t know if its encryption services still work.”

“So you want to do the Black Vault thing to me, only at Ilo, not here.”

“Yes.”

Vidi groaned, head thrown back in exasperation. “Can you undo it if it does work?”

“I… supposed we could, but why would you – ah, right. Halcyonite.”

“What does it pay?”

“What does i- Nothing.”

“Pfft. Forget it, then. Find yourself some other sucker. I’m not putting my tags on the line for nothing.”

Adas blew out an exasperated breath. “Your pick of whatever you can scavenge. Salvager’s rights, for this trip only.”

“Are you seriously encouraging her to scavenge!” GAM protested.

“Do you know another program we can use?” Adas shot back.

“Yeah, do you?” Vidi demanded in the same tone.

GAM put his hands up to his helm as if in prayer, and his exasperated sigh came through even the helm’s filters. “I haven’t agreed to go.”

“Then I guess I’m going alone,” Adas countered, and pointed. “With her.”

Vidi beamed at him.

The sound that came out of the Sentry was equal parts fury and defeat. He glared down at them so hyperbolically that both programs could feel it through the faceplate, but neither budged. He turned around and stalked angrily for the lift. “I’ll be downstairs,” he ground out.

Twenty nanocycles laters they rode out of Halcyon in a modified, canopied lightrunner, GAM driving and Adas working through her faceplate and a couple of tablets on her lap, while Vidi sprawled shamelessly on the backseat. “And they just gave you this thing? Without paying for it?”

“It’s a courtesy loan,” Adas noted distractedly, “from one city to another.”

“Must be nice to get things just for asking,” Vidi muttered.

“Try not stealing from someone. You’d be amazed how nice they can be then,” GAM replied stiffly.

They had the road pretty much to themselves. Inter-city traffic favored data-lines, solar sailers, effusion pipelines; they were faster and more reliable. But with Halcyon under threat, high-altitude traffic had become increasingly limited to pure cargo, no programs. There was an Ilosian jet on standby at Halcyon; Adas had nervously turned it down.

Fully trusting the Sentry to not crash them, she focused on her work. Away from Halcyon, crossing the Outlands, the only light came from themselves. When a brilliant glow washed over her, she nearly jumped out of the vehicle.

“It’s just Parnassus,” GAM told her at once. “It’s the halfway point between Halcyon and Ilo.”

Both Adas and Vidi pressed close to the windows. As the terrain shifted, the lone mountain of one of the few independent enclaves in the Grid glowed in the distance with a pure white light, beams of data rising from it in arching lines. There was an uncanny beauty to its curves and spirals, as if it were something not of the Grid, but exquisite to behold all the same.

“Is it really just one program living there?”

“Nah,” Vidi replied. “He’s got Bits and Navis.”

“But no other programs?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve only ever made it to the door when I’m doing deliveries.”

“Ayin’s been inside,” GAM said suddenly. “It’s just him.”

“Ayin?”

“The first WallSec. She says it’s like Ark, only prettier. More alive.”

“She’s been to Ark?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no place in the Grid Ayin hasn’t been to.”

“Om?” Vidi challenged at once.

“She’s been there. She helped them build the Black Vault.”

Vidi made a face and slouched back once again. Adas threw the Sentry a look. Black faceplate or not, she was pretty sure he was smiling.

There were ships and heavy vehicles all over Ilo, deconstruction and repurpose crews removing debris and rebuilding structures, but on the Sector where the road led them there was nothing but silence and ruin all around them. Adas stared out the windows, stricken, as GAM fought to stick to anything resembling a road. At the time of the event she’d been too busy helping others seek refuge; after, she’d only seen the devastation at a distance, from the top of the SysAdmin tower and from the jet.

“I’m sorry,” Vidi whispered quietly, staring at the destruction as they went by.

Adas tried to make herself look away. “It’s alright, I knew -” She let out a shriek and GAM slammed on the brakes. All three of them nearly went flying.

“What?!”

“Is that your hair?!”

Vidi had been looking at the destruction with all her eyes and had nearly ended up in the Sentry’s lap when he hit the brakes. “Yes?”

“Yours, not an Upgrade or a Cosmetic?”

“It’s mine! It’s me! Gah, you weird Ilosian.” The Halcyonite scrabbled back onto the backseat.

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t seen you… looking at… things before!”

GAM dropped his head with a sigh and began driving again. It wasn’t long until they saw the small group of programs waiting for them at the base of the tower. “Stay inside,” he told them both as he brought the lightrunner to a stop. As he stepped out, he was mildly surprised to find both of them had obeyed.

“Sentry!” Endos looked surprised, outright confused, to see him. “I didn’t expect to see you away from your duties at Halcyon.”

“My duties seem to be expanding,” he replied evenly, moving around the vehicle and opening Adas’ door for her. “Protecting Halcyon comes with moving parts these millicycles, apparently.”

The SysAdmin chuckled sensibly. “Adas, welcome back.” He threw his arms open, and then took the GO4’s hands in his. “I’ve felt like I’ve been missing half my disk since I had to let you go.”

“Well, it’s just temporary.” She blew out a huge breath. “It’ll be nice when everyone can come back home. How’s the reconstruction process going? I saw all the crews up in the air.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s mostly in the energy Sector. You should see the work going on at ground level -”

GAM opened Vidi’s door as both Ilosians walked away, chattering. “Stay close to me,” he told her quietly.

A few of her dreadlocks came up to examine him. “Why are you so twitchy, WallSec?”

The black faceplate turned to look at her, but before he could answer Adas waved at them. “Vidi!”

The three of them were led halfway up the tower. It had been truncated to a little under half its height when the Island had fallen, and there were places where the floors were missing entire walls, but two lifts and the general structural integrity had all been restored.

“It’s not that we don’t trust Halcyon, of course,” Endos explained, almost apologetic, looking warily at the Sentry. “But if our people get their tags encrypted there, when this matter’s over and they’re free to come back to Ilo they’ll still have to go back and forth with Halcyon to get their tags decrypted. It’s just more efficient to see if we can do it here directly.”

GAM said nothing, but he understood the underlying message: a city lived and died on population. If there was no one to live in Ilo, the city would simply fade away, replaced by something else, someplace else, with a different purpose. Endos didn’t want his people to find out life might be better in Halcyon.

Having met Adas and her evacuees, the Sentry didn’t think that was likely.

“I’m just here to help you with… whatever,” Vidi replied.

“And Ilo greatly appreciates your help,” Endos assured her. “You have a very unique design.”

“And you’re really bad at flirting,” she shot back.

“I… I – I wasn’t -”

“Vidi’s agreed to help as long as we decrypt the tags once we’ve confirmed they can be encrypted here,” Adas hurriedly interrupted. “Which I thought would be a good thing, we get to check that the process is working both ways.”

They stepped off the lift and onto a vast floor filled with work consoles. Encrypting and decrypting a program’s basic identification information wasn’t something that was done casually; as Vidi had pointed out, a lot of intuitive communication went on between programs whenever they dealt with one another. You didn’t stop to ask about compatibility or sourcing or anything like that, you just looked it up and got on with the important interacting bits. Without that information, unless Vidi was standing right in front of her customers, they had no way to contact her for work, no way to even find her.

“Oh, wow.” Vidi came to such an abrupt halt she bumped into GAM. Beyond the windows of the tower, one of the Island's solar sails stood upright, having fallen in such a way that the light coming in and out was tinted orange. They could see the individual cells flickering in and out of activity, and two of the spokes were leaning against the tower itself.

“It’s not a danger,” Endos hurried to assure them. “It was deemed cosmetic damage, so it’s low on the priorities for removal. Personally, it makes me sad just looking at it.” He clapped his hands and turned to the consoles; the programs with him were rushing to their positions. “In any case!”

“Yeah, he sure sounds sad,” Vidi muttered for GAM’s benefit.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Is that concern, or do you just not want me treasure-hunting in Ilo, WallSec?”

He merely blew out an exasperated breath. “All those eyes and you’re missing the obvious.”

“Vidi,” Adas waved her over.

The courier hesitated, suddenly realizing she didn’t want to move away from the protective wavelength of the Sentry. It took effort to step away from him, and to approach the console where Adas and Endos were waiting for her.

“Go,” he murmured quietly.

She stepped forward. She was vaguely listening to the SysAdmin, but he seemed to make a lot of noise for someone who wasn’t providing any useful information. One of the techs moved behind her and her dreadlocks immediately roused to attention. “Hey,” she snapped. “Hands off the disk.”

Every program on the floor froze.

“I don’t believe you need her disk to encrypt her tags,” GAM spoke very calmly.

“You don’t, not the way I understand the process,” Adas looked at the tech in puzzlement.

“It’s to safeguard through the process, ma’am,” the tech replied mildly. “Since we don’t know if the system has hidden malfunctions at the moment.”

“It’s fine where it’s at,” Vidi informed him sharply.

The tech hesitated, but Adas gave him a pointed look, and he went back to his console. Vidi braced herself.

“It’s… It doesn’t hurt or anything,” Adas reassured her awkwardly.

“What, you’ve been encrypted before?”

“Yes, a few times.” The GO4 shrugged. “It seems rude to ask someone to go through something if I’m not willing to do it myself, you know?” When Vidi made a face, she had to smile. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“It’s just, every time it looks like you’re heading for some good old righteous indignation, GAM and I take the wind right out of it.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve got mad to last me until the end of the Grid.” She made another face. “But yeah, you do. Both of you. It’d be annoying if you weren’t right most of the time.”

“Adas,” Endos called her from one of the consoles, and she stepped smartly away.

Vidi felt terribly alone and exposed all at once. She looked around nervously, and her gaze fell on GAM. The Sentry nodded minutely at her. Ugh, what a nuisance he was. But she felt comforted all the same. She took a deep breath and braced hers-

“Alright, we’re done.”

“… what?” She looked around without comprehension. The techs were shaking hands and clapping each other on the shoulder, looking terribly pleased with themselves.

“What?” Vidi asked blankly again.

Adas cleared her throat meaningfully.

“Oh, right!” Endos moved to one of the consoles, bringing a tech over. “And it’s reversed.”

“What?!” Vidi demanded. She patted herself down. “I didn’t feel anything!”

“Why… Why would you feel anything?” Endos asked in confusion. When she couldn’t give him an answer, he took her hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Thank you so much for your help. If there is anything Ilo, or I, can do for you -”

“Uh,” Vidi saw Adas gesturing sharply at her, and smiled at the SysAdmin as best she could. “Just doing my duty for my fellow programs,” she declared. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna now, ‘kay? Going home.”

“Of course!” He stepped back and gestured grandly. “Adas, I imagine you’re going back to take care of the evacuees?”

“Yes, until we have the habitat for them here. And please, Endos -”

“As quick as we can,” he assured her.

The three of them trooped into the lift. “That better not mean you’re cheating me of my salvager’s rights, GO4.”

“One could dream,” GAM declared dryly.

“No! I just… might not… have told him about it, that’s all. But you can go out and get whatever you want!”

“Quickly, I hope,” the Sentry added. “I’m sure there’s no limit to your greed, but surely there’s one to what you and the lightrunner can carry.”

“Is there gonna be some point in time when you don’t make it your life’s goal to ruin mine, WallSec?”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 28: New York Christmas Serenade (1/4)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1346

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 29 30 31 32

Written in 2016, this CS canon divergence is a re-imagining of what New York City Serenade might have looked like if Killian had found Emma’s NY apartment just before Christmas. Can the magic of the season help Killian bring back Emma’s and Henry’s memories?

CS Genre: Canon Divergence (missing year between 3a and 3b)

A/N:  I don’t really know what time of year it was when Killian showed up at Emma’s New York apartment door, but for the sake of this canon divergence, I’m saying he showed up the day before Christmas Eve.

Emma shouldn’t complain; she really shouldn’t.  She had a job she loved, she had a roof over her head (a really nice roof at that), plenty of food to eat, a son she loved more than she thought it was possible to love another person, and it was the day before Christmas Eve.  She should be perfectly happy.

But she couldn’t help but think something was missing.

At first she thought she was just dealing with the inevitable melancholy that comes after the breakup of a longtime (well…longtime for her.  When you’re used to one night stands, having a boyfriend for eight months seems like an eternity) relationship, but that wasn’t quite it.  Honestly?  She’d barely even thought about Walsh since she broke up with him just before Halloween.  He’d been okay she guessed, but…well, there was no spark there.

No, it was more than breakup blues.  It felt more like loneliness. She glanced over her shoulder at Henry who sat at the breakfast table garnishing their mugs of hot cocoa with both cinnamon and little mini candy canes (in honor of the season), and the guilt hit.  She loved Henry, of course she did, but she couldn’t help but feel like someone…maybe several someones…were missing.

Emma had just passed a plate of chocolate chip pancakes to an excited Henry when the knock came at her apartment door.  That was…odd.

“We expecting someone?” Henry asked, already beginning to dig into his breakfast.

“No,” she said, her brow furrowed.  “Just…stay here kid while I see what this is all about.”

Emma didn’t know what she expected to see when she opened her door, but a pirate in full black leather and guyliner wasn’t it.  Nor did she expect the look of utter joy—like she’d just given him the best Christmas gift in the world—that crossed his face at the sight of her.

“Swan,” he breathed, blue eyes lighting up.  “At last.”

The pirate stepped forward, looking like he was about to embrace her.  For a moment, her mind went blank.  There was something familiar about this man, although she was pretty sure she’d remember meeting him before.  Aside from his odd choice of clothing, he was hot.  Not just kind of hot.  Like burn-all-of-New-York-to-the-ground hot.

For half a second, she almost let him envelope her in a hug, and then common sense returned.  Emma Swan did not just stand there and let crazy guys touch her.  She put a hand to his chest, warding him off.  “Do I know you?” she asked in a voice she determinedly made hard and unyielding.

“I’m…an old friend,” he said.  He wasn’t being entirely truthful, though he wasn’t lying either…not exactly.  What was going on here? 

“Look, Swan,” he said urgently, taking a tiny step forward once more, “I know you don’t remember me, but I need you to trust me.  Your family is in great danger.  They need you; they need the savior.”

“Look buddy,” Emma said, “I don’t know who you are or what kind of delusions you have, but my whole family is right there at that breakfast table.  My son is the only one who needs me.”

“You simply don’t remember, love,” he began, “I can help you…”

“It’s time for you to go,” she said, giving a little push to his chest until he’d crossed her threshold, “go peddle your crazy to someone else.”

With that she shut the door in his protesting face.

“Who was that?” Henry asked around a bite of pancake.

“No idea,” Emma said.

“Really?” Henry asked.  “Are you sure?  It’s just…something about him seems really familiar.”

“Must be a coincidence,” Emma said with a shrug as she sat down to her breakfast.  “But enough about psychos who show up at our door.  Let’s talk about the weekend!  We’ve got a lot of Christmas-ing to fit into the next three days that I have off.  What do you want to do first?”

Emma tried to forget the handsome pirate, she truly did.  She tried to forget him as she and Henry went ice skating.  She tried to forget him as they rolled out Christmas cookies and cut them into festive shapes.  She tried to forget him while Henry played his video game and she covertly wrapped his presents.  She tried to forget him when she and Henry sat down to watch Elf that night.  She tried to forget him as she lay in her big, lonely bed.

But somehow mystery pirate man wouldn’t leave her thoughts no matter what she did.  When she woke up on Christmas Eve morning after having a weird dream where she and the pirate guy were in this weird jungle place and she kissed the living daylights out of him, she gave up.  Clearly she was going to get no peace until she found him again and heard him out, found out what the hell he’d meant by “your family needs you”.

As luck would have it, Emma didn’t even need to dig into her bail bonds person bag of tricks to locate her target.  She’d promised Henry she’d take him to the zoo in Central Park that day to see the Christmas festivities. And who should she see sitting on a park bench just outside the zoo’s entrance, but pirate man?

The man got to his feet as soon as she was in sight.  “Emma!” he said in excitement.  “Fancy seeing you here, love.”

“Seriously?” she asked, adding extra briskness to her voice to counteract the way the butterflies had started to swoop in her stomach the moment she saw him.  “You are a stalker.”

“Not at all,” he said.  “It was you who followed me here.  Perhaps you, Swan are the stalker here, aye?”  Turning to her left, the man nodded at her son.  “Henry!  Good to see you!  Enjoying your Christmas holidays?”

Henry gave the man a suspicious glance and then broke into a smile.  “Yeah, it’s been great!  Three full days with mom before she has to go back to work…amazing!  But…do I know you?”

The man ruffled his hair.  “I’d wager not, at least not to your knowledge.  Killian Jones at your service, lad!”

“Cool!  Where’d ya get the pirate costume?”

The man looked down at himself and then shrugged.  “I’ve been wearing this attire for such a long time I don’t recall where I acquired it.”

“So, Killian, would you like to come to our apartment for Christmas Eve tonight?” Henry asked before Emma could stop him.  “We’ll light up the tree and watch Christmas movies and hang our stockings and everything.”

The man…Killian…shot her a questioning glance.  “I don’t wish to impose on your family traditions, lad, but if your mother doesn’t object I’d like nothing in all the realms more than to accept your invitation.”

For long moments, Emma stood in indecision.  Her brain was screaming at her to run away as fast as possible.  People did not invite strange men dressed in crazy attire into their homes—not unless they had a strange desire to be murdered, that is.  But her heart…well, her heart kept (illogically) insisting that not only could she trust this Killian Jones, somehow she actually knew him.

What came out of her mouth surprised even her.  “Sure.  Come by the apartment around 7?”

But really, no one should be alone on Christmas Eve, should they?

Killian’s brows rose almost to his hairline.  Safe to say that was not the answer he was expecting either.  “I shall look forward to it, love.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Remember Me, Special Dreams

Part VIII.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

GIF: Originally posted by​ @sic-vita​​​

Summary: Self-insert. You're having trouble with recurring night terrors and Morpheus pays you a visit. (Title from the lyrics of Placebo’s Special Needs)

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of night terrors.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Hiya! Hope this message finds you well. I’m so excited to be able to introduce a couple of familiar faces in this chapter. Let me know how you like it and enjoy your evening/day.

Sandman Masterlist

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

Morpheus’ sand swirls softly around your body for the second time in two nights. You pay more attention to the process this time round since you are aware of what is happening. Your understanding does nothing to delay things however. The pull towards sleep is inexorable. Your eyes fall closed and your mind drifts.

The next sensation you are aware of is a surface coming up to meet your soles.

The impact with the flagstones is jarring. You wobble like a new-born lamb taking their first steps.

Morpheus is unaffected, his posture is perfect, his dark locks unruly but not messy. You suppose you should not be surprised; this is his realm after all.

You are standing in a corridor fashioned from a pale stone. Steady flames in torch brackets emit a warm light. A large wooden door sits before you.

“Where are we?” You ask.

“This is my palace.”

His reply catches you off guard.

You have no idea what to say back so you smile and nod a few times.

“Walk with me,” he requests politely.

The doors open of their own accord which sends your eyes widening, but the view through them goes one step further. Your mouth genuinely drops.

You see a library. A library beyond your wildest imaginings. One with lots and lots of windows and walkways and spiral staircases. Grand and majestic and yet inviting and peaceful.

Morpheus begins to move. His strides are long and you are so enraptured by your surroundings that you struggle to keep up with him.

You somehow reach a table. You barely notice the scarlet upholstered chairs or the blue reading lamps, let alone the presence of another person standing at the head of it. You are too distracted by the never-ending morphing of the shelves and the impossibly large amount of books that sit on them.

"Why didn’t you mention this place sooner? I would have been much easier to persuade if you had led with this.” You are still looking up as you tease the Dream King.

You manage to drag your attention away from the magical scene.

A person watches you bemusedly over the top of their round rimmed glasses.

Colour rushes to your cheeks.

"Oh!"

You shrink backwards in the throes of a cringe attack.

"Lucienne."  

"Lord Morpheus."

You watch their simple exchange but cannot help but notice the warmth in their eyes.

Then, those two pairs of eyes fix on you.

“Y/N, I would like you to meet Lucienne. Lucienne is the custodian of the palace library and provides me with invaluable counsel regarding matters of great importance in the Dreaming. You can trust her with your life.”

You can barely contain your excitement; not only had Morpheus brought you to his literal home, he had also just introduced you to a friend.

Embarrassment suppressed, you approach Lucienne and offer your hand to shake.

“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N.”

Between her returning beaming smile and fantastic outfit, you realise that you are quickly beginning to like Lucienne.

You step back beside Morpheus. A soothing vibration spreads through you as his hand hovers near the small of your back. You instinctively lean towards him, but the sensation disappears when Lucienne visibly notices the declining space between you.

Morpheus starts to explain the circumstances of your presence.

“I have recently confirmed that Y/N’s parasomnia is responsible for the unusual activity we have been experiencing in recent times.”

 The smile drops from Lucienne’s face.

“Sir, are you sure it is safe for someone with that kind of influence to be at the heart of the Dreaming? I cannot help but compare the events to those created by vortexes.”

“Y/N is not a vortex.”

“But Sir-,”

He speaks again with quiet authority, “Y/N is not a vortex, Lucienne, and she is here because she is under my protection.”

“Of course My Lord. Forgive my caution.”

“You need not apologise, you have every right to be cautious, and I thank you for voicing your concerns.”

Lucienne nods. “Will that be all My Lord, or is there something I can assist you with?"

Morpheus gestures to the pile of books on the table.

Your eyes track down the spines. Your full name stands out in gold lettering on a couple of them. At the bottom of the stack, sits the first volume from ‘A Song of Ice and Fire.’

He had looked up Game of Thrones like you had suggested.

You suppress a giggle as Morpheus starts talking to Lucienne again.

“I made a start yesterday in cross referencing the records of seismic disturbances in the realm against Y/N’s nightmares. I would appreciate a second pair of hands to reach a conclusion more swiftly.”

“I would be happy to, My Lord.”

Lucienne sits down, moving the tails of her coat out the way. Morpheus sits opposite.

“Let me get this straight. Everyone’s dreams are recorded here in these books?”

“That is correct, as well as every book that has ever been imagined in the Waking World, even if they are unpublished or unwritten.” Lucienne says.

"So this is how you were able to look up my dreams for the cottage dream?”

“It is, yes,” Morpheus affirms.

He and Lucienne begin to read. After less than a minute, they are talking out loud about your night terrors in explicit detail.

It brings them back with disgusting clarity, and reinforces to you just how much trouble you seem to cause everyone you come into contact with.

Then, more and more technical words and phrases that mean nothing to you start to be woven into the already triggering conversation.

You look back and forth between Lucienne and Morpheus, an uneasy sensation in your gut.

You are very aware of the fact that you are becoming overwhelmed.

Your inferiority complex starts a berating inner monologue.

In your already heightened emotional state, this thought process quickly spirals out of control.

The word burden stands out. It bounces around your neurons with persistence.

You are already so wounded by your guilt and self-loathing that every insult sticks like toffee to a molar. Not impossible to remove but likely to stay around for a good while and exacerbate the ache in your heart.

It all becomes too much.

You are checking your surroundings for a way to leave.

It appears that backwards is your only option so you take it. You move slowly at first, tiptoe stance engaged.

“Y/N?”

Morpheus speaks your name but you know you are too far now for him to be able to see you.

“Let her go, My Lord.” You hear Lucienne say.

“But-”

“Let her go. In my experience, humans only slip away when they do not wish to be followed. Give her some time alone.”

“Very well,” Morpheus acquiesces softly.

Despite this comment, you do not trust that he won’t change his mind.

You run the remainder of the way from the room and also in some of the corridors beyond.

It is only when you find the palace entrance do you finally stop.

Tears start to fall as you walk across the bridge over the mirror lake. You find a sheltered spot in amongst some trees and try to stem the flow of sadness.

There’s a creaking noise as an imposing black carrion swoops down to sit on a branch above you.

The bird caws once.

"Hello," you say meekly.

"Hi!"

Your eyebrows rise.

"What the f-" You start to exclaim before catching yourself. "No, remember, this is the literal place where dreams are made, of course there could be a talking bird."

"I am way more than just a bird, I’m Matthew, one of Lord Morpheus’ ravens.” His tone is sassy and little proud.

You huff. “Did Lord Morpheus send you to come and check on me, Matthew?”

“Nope.”

You look down. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He flies down and sits beside you on the verdant grass.

“What’s your name?” He asks, fixing a bright, beady eye on you.

“Y/N.”

Matthew squawks. “You’re Y/N?! The Dreamer that Morpheus has been going to visit.”

“The very same.”

”Well, Y/N, I can’t help but notice that you’ve been crying. You want to talk about it?”

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

"Oh no what's this, a spider web and I'm caught in the middle. So I turned to run. The thought of all the stupid things I've done."

Taglist: @pinkcyclewitch @layla2-49 @shoidy-cat @silverhart93 @boofy1998 @dotieeee      

[thatbritishactor]

Together we stand (part 26)

Together we stand (part 26)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Together We Stand explores the relationship between Billy Russo and Reader (You), over the course of twenty years. You meet as children, and you two are best friends until life tears you apart. You always find your way to each other over the years, although you witness him becoming someone you barely recognize. Billy is your weakness, the one person you cannot resist, and as he grows into a selfish, cold, manipulative man, you can’t let go of the Billy you once knew.

Warning: Mature (SMUT), 18+, language (cursing), abuse (psychological), toxic relationship dynamics.

Words: 3,100

The * indicates steamy/ mature content

Together we stand playlist

My Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2*   Part 3   Part 4* Part 5 Part 6* Part 7*  Part 8  

Part 9*   Part 10   Part 11*   Part 12*   Part 13   Part 14  Part 15

Part 16   Part 17*   Part 18   Part 19   Part 20   Part 21*   Part 22

Part 23     Part 24    Part 25

You: I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole. Can we talk?

Billy stares at your text message, sighing. He’s lying in his bed, one hand behind his head, the other one holding his phone. You’ve sent the text this morning, probably after you’ve woken up. He feels relieved that you’re apologizing, but he knows that he would have reached out to you even if you hadn’t. He was pissed at you sure, but he remained worried. You looked pretty shaken off, and he wanted to take care of you.

Billy quickly types an answer:

Billy: It’s fine. Tonight?

He waits for a few minutes before your answers lights his screen.

You: 7 pm? Usual place? I could use a drink.

He grins, satisfied. At least you’re eager to see him again, and that’s a relief. He remembers a time during which it would take days, months, years even, to talk to each other after a fight. Ever since you became adults, communication’s been easier between the two of you, and he’s thankful for that.

Billy: Sure. But you’re paying.

You: Fine 🙄

He chuckles to himself, relieved that he’ll be seeing you by the end of the day. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t regret rejecting you the night before. Sure, he felt like he was a second choice, and you’ve been kind of a bitch. But he’s tired of pretending like he doesn’t want you, and he can’t wait to make you remember how good you can be together.

He glances at his dick that’s hardening, remembering what it felt like to have you sitting on his lap last night. He moans before grabbing his length, conjuring thoughts of you. He feels like he’s done this a thousand times: pleasing himself thinking of you, and he’s often wondered if you were doing the same. He’s even pictured you while he slept with other girls, because every woman he’s slept with didn’t compare to you. Not even close.  

He tightens his grasp on his cock to the point of pleasure and starts to stroke himself, licking his lips. Pleasure starts to wash over him, and he conjures an image of you bouncing off his dick, his hands roughly cupping your breasts, you nipping your lower lip. He can almost hear your soft whimpers of pleasure, moving his hand up and down his length more quickly. He imagines flipping you over to take you from behind, picturing your back arched and your hair sliding over your shoulders. He almost hears his hips slapping against your ass, and he feels his climax approaching, biting his lower lip. He strokes himself faster, and it doesn’t take him long to reach orgasm, all the pent-up frustration and anger from last night putting him on edge. He comes in his hand, groaning, and he opens his eyes to stare at the ceiling. He grins, promising himself that he’ll have you soon, and looks for something to wipe himself with.

* * * * * * * * *

Billy’s been distracted all day. He’s gone to visit old warehouses, looking for a place to build his business in. He’s picky and he’s looked at countless places already, but he’s got a clear image of what he wants in his mind, and he won’t settle for less.

It’s almost time to meet you, and he comes back home to change. He looks for a black shirt in his wardrobe, his body buzzing with excitement. He changes his jeans, brushes his teeth, puts perfume on, and tries to tame his hair. It’s grown fast since he’s left the marines, and he’s thinking of styling it a certain way when it’ll be long enough, short on the sides with the length slicked back. He glances at his closet, wishing he already had the money to buy the expensive suits he wants. He checks himself out in the mirror, happy with the way he looks, and leaves his apartment, slamming the door behind him.

He makes his way uptown, trying to soothe his nerves, and enters the bar filled with determination. He’s had enough of this dancing around, and he intends to take you home tonight. You’ve already apologized, the frog’s out of the picture, if not now, when? Sure, he’s not where he wanted to be for you. He doesn’t have the status and the power, although he does have the money. But he can’t wait any longer, he must be with you. Every day passing by without you is a waste, and he can’t live like this anymore. His life without you doesn’t make sense, everything he does is to make you proud, and to convince you that you belong together.

He spots you on the green velvet couch where you usually sit, and he walks towards you, shaking his right shoulder unconsciously. You glance at him, a small smile graces your lips, making his stomach flip. He approaches and you stand up, leaning towards him to place a kiss on his cheek. He stares at you, serious and intense, and he watches your smile disappear.

“Hi” he says, looking down at you through his eyelashes. He knows the effect he has on you, and he relishes in it as he watches you swallow thickly and blink a few times, tearing your eyes from his to glance at his lips for a split second.

“Hi back” you reply, and he grins at you, having to resist kissing you. “Thank you for coming” you say, going back to sit, and he follows you on the couch. He’s careful not to sit too far, nor too close: he doesn’t want to look desperate.

“Well, you said you were buying” he jokes, and he removes his leather jacket to put it on the back of the couch. He catches your eyes roaming over his torso and smirks, satisfied.

“I’m sorry” you smile apologetically “I was a mess and I… I shouldn’t have lashed out at you”.

Billy frowns. “It’s fine. Consider us even." You chuckle, putting a strand of your hair behind your ear.

He details you, noticing the pendant hanging from your neck, the dark green blouse you’re wearing that’s showing a bit of cleavage, and his breathing accelerates, his cock hardening in his pants. You’re wearing a high waisted pencil skirt – your professor looks – and he pities your students, because he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on your classes if he was them.

He swallows before asking “What are you drinking?” and when you answer him, he spots heat in your eyes. It might be more complicated to hold himself off than he’s anticipated, and he welcomes his drink, feeling relieved to take a bit of the edge off.

“You feeling better?” he asks, sipping on his drink, and he appreciates the warmth of the alcohol lining his throat.

“I am” your finger is dancing over the edge of your drink. “I thought about what you said last night” you hold his gaze, putting your chin up.

“Which part?” he questions, putting a hand over the back of the couch and making himself more comfortable.

“That he wasn’t the right one for me” your eyes don't leave his. Billy takes a breath, places his drink on the coffee table and sits up straight.

“And?” 

You put your own drink down and face him, approaching him slowly. “You said you wanted it to mean something… that you didn’t want to be my second choice” you look into his eyes before briefly glimpsing at his lips.

Billy feels his cock twitch, but he doesn’t care; he’s entranced by you, and hanging on to your every word. He looks at your lips and a small groan escapes from the back of his throat. You speak again:

“You were never a second choice, Billy” you breathe, and your faces are much closer to each other. He can smell your perfume, the alcohol on your lips, and the smell of your hair.

“You’ve always been the one, and I’m sorry I ever made you feel otherwise”. Billy looks deeply into your eyes, his heart slamming rapidly against his ribs. He watches your cheeks reddening, a clear sign that you’re aroused. Your eyes are shimmering, your mouth slightly open, and he lets out a shaky breath before leaning in and crushing his lips on yours.

Your hands immediately tug at his hair, and you bring him closer to you, your chests slamming against each other. He grasps your face, his tongue enters your mouth, and he moans as he tastes you, the liquor making you impossibly more delicious.

You kiss for a few minutes, lost in the feeling of each other, your lips brushing with fervor and urgency, years of resisting each other finally coming to an end. He pulls back, and you look up at him, your lips crimson and swollen, and his hands slide from your face to your shoulders, holding you against him. You pant, detailing his face, and his erection starts to ache.

“Let’s get out of here” he whispers, and you nod, smiling, your eyes beaming. He kisses you again, his lips conveying the repressed passion he’s felt for you all this time, and you moan against his lips, making him pull back again.

He smirks, slips away from you, grabbing his leather jacket and putting it on before standing on his feet. You search for your bag, grab dollar bills out of your wallet and toss them on the table without even looking. You look back up at him, grabbing your coat and getting up, and he takes your hand before leading you out of the bar and into the street. He searches for a cab while you walk beside him, and he doesn’t dare to look at you, knowing that if he does, he won’t resist kissing you again.

He finds a cab, opens the door for you, and you get on. He gives the driver your address, the cab starts, and before he can say anything you’re kissing him again, claiming his lips with a wildness that makes him dizzy. He kisses you back, and he’s thankful that you live close by, because the cab pulls over a few minutes later.

He pays the cab driver before thanking him and you both gets out of the car. He grabs you by the hand and you lead him into your building, before jamming the elevator button frantically. Waiting for it is torture, and when the doors finally slide open, he looks at you. You stare back, stepping inside and he follows you in, standing in front of you, towering over you. The doors close with a “ding”, and he crushes you against the mirror in the back of the elevator, kissing you hungrily, and dragging a hand along your thigh and underneath your skirt. He feels you quiver under him, and he smirks into the kiss, his fingers grazing at your folds over your panties, making you whimper out loud. The doors open again, and you push him off, rushing to your door and looking for your keys into your bag. He comes behind you, slides your hair over your shoulders and kisses your neck before biting it, making you whine again.

You open the door to your apartment, your hands shaking, and Billy closes it behind him, watching you closely as you remove your shoes and your coat, staring heatedly into his eyes. He takes his jacket off, and you step closer to him before capturing his mouth again, slamming him against the wall and tugging at his shirt to slide it over his head. He grins against your lips, his hands tearing your blouse open, buttons flying across the room, making you gasp.

“I loved that blouse” you pant, and he bites your lower lip, undoing the zipper of your skirt.

“I don’t give a fuck” he replies, and he slides your skirt off your legs in a harsh move that removes your panties as well. He grabs you off the floor, you wrap your legs around him, and he carries you to the couch, throwing you on it before kissing your chest. Your hands find their way into his hair, holding him closer to you, and he breathes you in, his tongue lazily caressing your hot skin.

“Take your bra off” he commands, leaning back, and he watches you obey while he removes his jeans, licking his lips. You toss your bra across the room before lying down on the couch again, and he hovers over you, his hands resting at your sides. He kisses you languidly, and you moan against his mouth, before he moves down to your neck, then your breasts, lightly nibbling your nipples.

Your hands clench his hair, and he lets you, loving the sounds coming out of you. He moves to your stomach, placing featherlight kisses on your belly, then bites the skin of your hips, until he reaches your wet core aching for him. He looks up at you once more, taking in the way you gaze at him expectantly, until he buries his face between your legs. Your grip on his hair tightens when he licks your clit and applies pressure on it, making you gasp. He licks your folds then, applying himself, paying attention to your soft gasps and your whimpers. Your taste intoxicates him, and he must repress himself from eating you whole. He kisses you with more force before licking you, alternating between the flat and the tip of his tongue, and you start to shake against his mouth, making him grin. Billy keeps licking and kissing your core, until he feels you tense against him, and your whimpers turn into cries. He speeds up, his moves a bit harsher, and your legs tremble against him, letting him know that you’re close. He fucks you with his mouth until you come against his tongue, and he licks every drop, your orgasm coming alive on his tongue.

He pulls back and moves over your body, sucking feverishly the skin of your chest, then your neck, while you catch your breath. Once your breathing is normal again, you grab his face to kiss him, and he lets you until he can’t ignore his painful erection anymore. As if you’re heard his thoughts, your hands find their way to his boxer briefs to remove them, and you grab his pulsing length, slowly stroking him. His lips leave yours and he sets his head back, his eyes shut, letting you caress him until he can’t wait any longer. He grabs your hands, tosses them aside and sits on the couch.

“C’me here” he pants, and you comply, straddling him like you did the night before. You look into his eyes, your hands tousling his hair, as you slowly slide on his throbbing cock, taking him inch by inch, and making him close his eyes in ecstasy.

You start to move slowly against him, and he moans, grabbing your back and nestling his face against your breasts, breathing hard. You move faster, thrusting against him, and he focuses so he doesn’t come yet, because he wants this to last. You moan, clenching around him, and his hands grab your hips, guiding your movements against him. You kiss him again, your nails digging into his shoulders, the pain enhancing his pleasure, making him scream.

“Fuck! So good!” he says, panting, and you nod, agreeing with him, still bouncing on his dick, bringing him closer to the edge.

Your movements become a bit more erratic, and he feels that you’re close, bracing himself. He lets you move against him the way you like it, kissing your neck while you come – loudly- all over him. He closes him eyes, concentrating, and he lets you come down slowly. He looks up at you and strokes the hair away from your face, watching you catch your breath. You slide off him and lie on the couch again, and he comes on top, swiftly entering you. He stretches your walls exquisitely, you’re so tight against him, the feeling is amazing, and he stills for a while, trying to catch his breath. Your lips find his, and he slowly thrusts into you, making you moan against his mouth. You lift your leg a bit higher, so he penetrates you deeper, and he starts to see stars. He slides in and out of you at a steady pace, groaning, until his climax hits him and waves of pleasure wash over him. He buries his face against your neck as he comes, and he feels you clench around him, coming for the third time tonight, holding him tightly against you.

Once he’s caught his breath, he leans back to look at you and finds you smiling at him.

“What?” he asks, blinking.

“Nothing” you breathe softly, and you look tenderly at him. “I’m just happy” you add, and his heart bursts in his chest, because he feels exactly the same.

* * * * * * * * *

The hot water slides against his shoulders, and he’s placing lazy kisses on your neck and your shoulders while you wash yourself, the smell of your soap grazing his nostrils. His arms are tightly pressed around you, and he feels as though he can never let you go again, terrified of being apart from you. He feels whole for the first time in years, and he can’t believe that you’re finally his, all of his. He feels you turning in his arms and opens his eyes to find you staring up at him.

You step on your tip toes and kiss him before stepping back.

“I love you” you say, smiling and placing a hand over his face to stroke his cheek.

“Me too” he replies, and he kisses you again, pushing you against the wall of the shower, feeling himself grow hard again. You chuckle against him, and he grabs your thigh to wrap it around his waist, pushing his hardening member against your core.

* * * * * * * * *

After the shower, you took him to lie in your bed and he’s facing you, his fingers lightly stroking your naked arm up and down. You’re both slowly falling asleep, lulled to sleep by each other’s quiet breathing.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, and although the room is dark, he can see that you’re blushing.

“Sure” he replies in a low voice.

“Can we please be together now? For real?” Billy looks into your eyes to find the purest form of hope, and his heart bursts of happiness in his chest.

“Yes. For real” you close your eyes, smiling. Billy watches you falling asleep, and he thinks to himself that he’s never been this happy in his whole life.

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