#I was gonna stick out having them both for longer cuz the money would be nice but this is simply not sustainable

[yuribalisms]

Insomnia my detested

[stagemanagerssaygo]

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney’s Hyperion Theater

by Cooper Howell

Heaven and Hell: or my experience being a person of color in Disney's Hyperion Theater. #holdingtheateraccountable Im just gonna go ahead and be straight up. This is pretty scary to share. HEAVEN: Once upon a time Liesl Tommy cast me as Prince Hans in Frozen: Live at the Hyperion. And I was gooped. GOOPED. There was nothing in my prior history that gave any indication this was possible. Up until then every role I played had to do with my race. Every. Single. One. And even ones where it didn’t (Shakespeare or classical pieces mostly) I was always made aware that the novelty of me being a poc in that role that gave me the part. So much did I not expect to get this part that when I got the callback I rolled my eyes and didn’t take the actual callback seriously. I mean, there was a zero percent chance that Disney would ever let me play a Prince, especially when the dude in the movie is a ginger. But then I got it. And immediately everything I thought was possible about my career changed. My whole life I’ve never inwardly felt black. I’ve never inwardly felt white. I’ve always felt like I was Cooper, you know, on the inside. But whether it was every single white human in Utah reminding me that I was “the whitest person they ever knew/saw” (which DIDNT mean how white my skin was. It was how white I ACTED) or Mr. Johnson, my 7th grade drama teacher, telling me that he “wanted to put Velcro on the ceiling to see if I’d stick” or Mr. Smith, my high school drama teacher, saying “finally we can do black shows” as soon as I entered high school and then not casting me in roles because of the "optics" of it, or even my best friend in high school Tanner Harmon who called me "blackie", I was always reminded that I was an other. So imagine getting paid good money to put on that $10,000 costume and waltzing out to 4000 people a day to play a really amazing part. A fantastic, evil, complicated, person who sings a killer duet and then grabs the show by the throat with a vicious about-face monologue... and not once was my race ever mentioned cuz it didnt matter. What was being prized was Cooper, my talent, not my skin color that I never asked for. Heaven. Liesl MADE SURE, almost overly sure, that the poc’s in the cast felt equal. The kingdom of Arendelle, after all, is a make believe place. It can be whatever. From having Disney executives come and tell us that they were happy to have us there, to side conversations with John Lasseter, we were made to feel overly welcome playing the parts we were playing. She encouraged us to dive deeper into the script of a cartoon that I didnt really think much of until I was in it. We were encouraged to ask why. We felt seen as talent and not commodities. There were, of course, detractors. Gosh, I remember people at a party of cast members from "Mickey and the Magical Map" another show at Disneyland which features a princess and the frog number and many of those casts mates angrily claiming that “if that black girl Tiana Okoye can play Elsa than I should be able to play Princess Tiana” and then looking at me to confirm that was okay to say, not realizing that a) she’s one of my best friends, b) that I’m in the show with her also playing a role that wasn't created to be a poc, c) how racist that sounded, and d) why there's a difference there and why that wouldn't make sense. On Liesls final night I came up to her and said “I don’t know why you did it but thank you so much for casting ME in this part” to which she replied “you mean why would I cast a handsome, talented person in this role?” And I stuttered something like “well, I mean, I’m black. You know...” to which she tilted her head to her side and said “no. I don’t know why. Tell me why that matters.” And I had no answer. Seeing that I had no answer she smiled. That was the answer. There was no reason. On the spot my outlook about myself changed. Windows into what I thought was possible for me opened. -------------------------------------- HELL: And then Liesl went back to NYC and she was replaced by a man named Roger Castellano as show director. Rogers task, he told us on the first day, was to "change the show". We were not told what needed to be changed or even why, but that changes were on the horizon. You've got to understand: to a full cast of actors who had just spent more than three months dissecting a 60 page Disney script with a Tony nominated director like it was Shakespeare, we were initially emotionally/mentally/spiritually resistant to changes. But then it became clear that the spirit of collaboration was over, and the show changes were to be given without the same care, consideration, and thematic explanation of why they were being made. Everyones initial reaction was to push back, but when people who questioned their notes or their changes started getting days removed their schedule or being replaced entirely by a new actor, the Hyperion theater became a place where no one was allowed to speak out. Injustices were happening left and right and no one felt they could do anything for fear of losing their livelihood. And that's when the Frozen: Live at the Hyperion became a living hell. In my first note session with Roger he pulled me into a room with Domonique Paton, my best friend and incredible costar who played princess Anna in the show I was in. She just so happens to also be black. Almost all of Prince Hans’s scenes in the show are with her character and so most of my notes would be primarily based on those interactions with her. Earlier in the day I performed with a different (white) actress but it was the show with Domonique that I had a note session about. Imagine my surprise and dismay when, with how Liesl set up the show experience, we were told this: “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER ITS TOO… URBAN.” Urban. What else could that have meant, do you think? He could have said maybe “too contemporary” emphasizing that we were maybe too modern in our speech patterns or movements. We weren’t. He could have said “too lax” or “too loose” meaning that maybe we were being unprofessional and goofy up there because we’re really good friends. We were not. The best me and Ms. Paton could think of was a 8 count moment of improv dance that me and Domonique decided to use as a synchronized moment of unity. It happened to fall on the line “our mental synchronization can have but one explanation” and thought, with the freedom that Christopher (the original choreographer) had given us, was appropriate, especially considering everyone behind us was doing the robot. As in the 80s robot. But he didnt clarify. He just said “WHEN THE TWO OF YOU PERFORM THE SHOW TOGETHER IT’S TOO… URBAN” And when asked what he meant he smiled with a little shrug and said "you can figure that out. You're smart." And thats how I became Black Hans and Domonique became Black Anna. My every moment onstage afterwards became about the optics of being a poc in that show. It was if I was suddenly made aware that I was LUCKY enough to be there and under any normal circumstances, or this new directors circumstances, me getting this part would have never happened. But the message was clear. It was especially clear when me and Domonique Paton shows together durastically decreased and made even more clear when the vast majority of the new hires were not people of color. But no one said anything. And made even MORE clear when, over the next few weeks, both Domonique and I got COPIOUS notes, ten times that of our coworkers that played the same parts. It was almost a game. In fact we did turn it into a game, seeing who would get the least amount of notes from him in a day. Our costars would even joke about it onstage with us, during the ballroom scene, and jokingly whisper "The shows been up 15 minutes. How many do you think you got today?" But no one said anything. And the notes were about all kinds of things. How we held our hand. If our inflections went up or down on a word. Which side of a couch we leaned on… which was fine! When you're an actor, thats the gig... until we started comparing our notes with the actors that played our same parts and none of them, NONE, would get the same notes. Our notes would be outrageously longer, the note sessions sometimes lasting 10/15 minutes. Others would get the “Oh hey, try doing this or that next time, okay bye” walk-by notes. Sometimes I would sneak into the audience and watch as some of the other Han's, some of whom changed lines, changed entire intentions of scenes, some of whom adding in all types of vocalizations and cackles and dance moves and what have you, and would receive ZERO notes. But I was watching them to see what was wrong with me. What was my performance missing? What am I actually doing to feel this singled out. And then I realized that the thing that was wrong with me was that I was a different color than the 5 other white Hans's they cast. And then I started getting notes about my penis. Most of the time these “penis sessions”, as I called them, were given in private rooms without another stage manager present. It was incredibly unpleasant and unprofessional. In fairness, those Prince Hans pants are TIGHT! And yes, Mr. Howell is indeed a party in the front and a party in the back, but so were a lot of those fellas. And thats where I put my foot down. If Disney was going to provide me with a costume it is not my responsibility to fix their problem, especially when other of my (white) costars had been given a dance belt for the same thing. But they never got penis notes. Private session notes about what their penis looked like in that show. Over and over again I was told to fix it, to not make it (my dick) so apparent, and that “if my daughter were younger I wouldn’t want her to come to a show you were performing at" all the more insulting considering his daughter, a cast member in the show, was a friend of mine and the loveliest person. He started demanding that I buy a dance belt. It was “my fault”, “my responsibility” …and thats where I took my stand. And then it really became hell. Penis sessions were now done out in the open. Once, he screamed at me, in the green room in front of all of my costars during lunch, about how incredible unprofessional I was, about how he was tired of seeing my dick, and that if I didnt go buy myself one I didnt deserve to be there anymore. Followed by a huge litany of notes. That doesnt compare to some of what Domonique went through and I invite her to share them if she’s willing. During this time I went to every stage manager in the building and told them about being singling out and about my penis. They all told me to write a complaint report and it would go to some place called "HR". Which I did. Numerously. More months passed. Nothing from "HR". Multiple cast members who witnessed my note sessions encouraged me to go to the HR themselves. I didnt honestly know what an HR was. As soon as it was explained to me by my allies even what an HR was I went to the head of HR at Disneyland herself and waited outside of her door. I asked her if she got any of my HR reports and she told me that she had received no HR reports from the Hyperion. Ever. And then asked me to fill out a HR form. As we went over it, she asked me some questions, and then set up a second meeting. On the second meeting she said that in order for my report to be given credence I would need witnesses to give their testimony. The witnesses, in fact the very people that told me to go to HR in the first place, said no. They didnt want to lose their jobs. In retrospect that might be the thing that hurt the most but, whatever... anyway, I was told "“well… without testimonies we’ll do an investigation and we’ll call you when we’ve completed it.” I never received a phone call. With absolutely zero protection from the stage managers from both the sexual harassment or my obvious racial targeting I (and others) were experiencing, not to mention that HR reports were doing nothing, aka not being forwarded, I thought about quitting. And when a white stage manager made a show mistake and laughed it off to the cast by saying an entirely offensive lynching joke, I quit. I didnt matter to Disney. How I felt and what I was being put through didnt matter. I was a commodity. My departure was unceremonious. Bizarre. 100% un-magical. I hung up my costume one last time and it was given to a new Hans, one who looked very much like me oddly, and stepped out of the theater. The park was playing “every wish your heart desires will come to you” and I remember laughing at how dead that song felt. The director has since moved on but still works as a musical theater director in Southern California. This one time 4 years ago I got to feel something other than my color for the first and only time in my professional career. It lasted from about March 2016 to July 2016 and never again since. I will never forget in those early days looking at all the beautiful princesses I got to woo and thinking “wow. I’m a prince right now.” Im sure that sounds stupid. But it didn't feel stupid. And a Disney prince! Yeah, a shitty prince kinda... I mean, he's a sociopath... BUT still a Prince! Especially special was being able to look in Dominique’s eyes and I could see the same glimmer of “can you believe we get to do this right now” reflected back. We never knew it was in the cards for us. My race always has and will always be part of my career equation and a determining factor of its projection. It will always be a determining factor in how im treated, by creatives, by people, by the those in authority over me, including the government and the police. #wasitmyskin

Copied in its entirety here from Cooper Howell’s public Facebook post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10163696376095054&set=a.10151302685610054&type=3&theater

[enter-a-newsies-obsession]

Dark Alleys and Dark Bruises- Javid

Helllloooo!!! I haven’t posted a Javid oneshot for awhile so here you go! (also on Wattpad: Forbidden Thoughts~Javid Oneshots)

TW: blood, homophobia, use of f****t, angst (with happy ending!!)

The dirty puddles twinkled in the soft lamplight as Jack Kelly's footsteps disturbed them. He watched the ripples disappear into the edges, humming with slight interest. Leaning on the wall beside him, Jack looked up at the few stars that he could see through the clouds.

That kid's really killin' me, he thought bitterly. Again, his mind landed on a subject that he could never escape: David Jacobs.

Jack was on the way back to the Lodge from walking Davey and Les to their home, "It's dangerous out these days," was the only excuse he could muster, trying to hide the fact he just wanted more time with Davey.

Now, as Jack stood alone, he looked glumly around. Everything here could only remain him of Davey- the grimy pavement as dark as the boys hair, the soft lamplight as tender as his cheek, hidden alleyways where Jack would fantasise pulling him into, the twinkling stars matching his shining eyes.

Jack shook his head angrily.

He pushed off the wall and stuffed his hands roughly in his pockets. Girls, boys, he loved them both. Too bad none but the newsies really liked that.

So caught up in his thoughts as he was, Jack didn't see the two shadows slither up  behind him.

A voice dripped in sarcasm drifted out from the darkness as Jack froze in his tracks.

"Oi! What'd we's have here now? That the famous Jack Kelly, is it?"

Oscar and Morris Delancey scuffled out from behind him. Jack sighed loudly, turning back with a fake, smug smile and threw his hands up.

"Oscar, Morris. What cha doing down in these parts, shouldn't yer be crawlin' 'round by someone else's feet at this time of night?"

Oh, they didn't like that comment.

Their smiles faded and clean shaven jaw clenched.

"We's was just passin' by 'til we saw ya round 'ere alone." Oscar spat, cracked his knuckles and advanced. Jack tried to stand his ground but when Oscars hot and mucky breath washed over his cold face, he clenched his fists and stepped back.

"My fists have been aching without anything to punch-" before Jack could respond, Morris took a swing at him, but he dodged it with a gulp. What were they playing at? What did they want?

"Oi, where's yer little boyfriend, aye Kelly? Davey was it?"

Ah, so that's what they wanted.

"Don't have a boyfriend," Jack shrugged, "What, you offering Morris?"

Morris growled and pushed him roughly into an empty alley way. Jack, who hadn't prepared to be pushed, fell violently onto his back, hitting his head on the pavement. Before he could get up, Oscar dug his heel into his chest and forced him back down.

He leaned over him, "Come on Jaaaack, you can tell us if yer a dirty homosexual. We's won't tell."

Jack struggled against his foot and attempted to push him off.

"I ain't gonna. An' if I were, I don't  appreciate yer callin' us dirty."

Oscar let Jack scramble up to stand, then kicked him in the stomach, winding him and making him double over in a vulnerable position where they could sock him right in the jaw.

"We's ain't stupid," Morris growled, "You're a disgusting f****t, we've seen the way you and that Davey kid look at each other."

Jack coughed up bright red blood onto the grimy pavement.

"Burn in hell." He snarled.

They leaned forward, "Oh, we won't be the only ones, Queer."

Before another breath could be taken, they started kicking him down, punching him in the jaw, bruising his ribs, cutting his head until it bled on the ground, spitting on his face.

Then, they left him in the cold, bleeding and bruised, hardly able to sit up, slurs echoing through his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where's Jack?" Les whined, looking around at the Newsies Square. Davey's smile flattered but he straightened up to pat his brother reassuringly on his head.

"He'll be here."

A minute passed, then five, then fifteen.

Crutchie hobbled over to them.

"You's seen Jack this mornin'?"

Davey's brow furrowed and shook his head. "No. Didn't he come back last night?"

It was Crutchies turn to shake his head.

Davey looked around anxiously, "He wouldn't have gone to Brooklyn or Queens or somethin'?"

Crutchie looked around as if he would sense him. "Nah, he woulda told one a us," he frowned. "Or you's guys," he added.

Worry started to tease at the edge off Davey's mind. Jack was strong. He would be fine.

If he's strong he would've made it back by now, Daveys brain argued.

  Okay, now his mind was full of fear of every single bad thing that could happen to a Newsies around these parts- especially in the middle of the night when Jack had left.

Racer- who had previous joined the conversation- laid a reassuring hand on David's shoulder, "Aye..... Aye Dave what ya worrying about? It's gonna be-"

"I'm gonna go look for 'em," Davey snapped, turning sharply away before giving Les the money and waving a quick goodbye for now. After a nod from Crutchie, Racetrack went with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They had been following the route back to Davey's apartment for a while now, checking each dark alley, each shop window, each side street, just for a small glimpse of where Jack was.

Davey had started panicking when they had gone almost half an hour without a clue, taking off his hat to run his clammy fingers through his dark hair.

"I really dunno," Race sighed, kicking a stick on the road into the alleyway next to them, "he could be anywhere by now, Davey, I-"

There was a groan from the alleyway. Race and David froze.

"What was that....?" Davey half-heartily whispered as Race was already approaching the dark clump .

"Err.....Dave, you better come 'ere quick..."

Davey ran. Then, just as fast, he froze..

Davey found it hard to believe that Jack Kelly- one of the strongest leaders Dave knew, the hard muscled boy with an equally quick witted come back always ready, the boy who never flinched in the way of danger- was the same boy who curled and flinched as Dave put a trembling hand to his shoulder.

"Jack?" He didn't respond as Davey crouched beside him, next to Race, "Hey Jackie?"

"...Dave?"

The voice that whispered was hoarse and cold, nothing like the Jack Dave knew. His head lolled towards where Davey's voice came from. His fingers were crusted with old blood, his face was covered in darkening bruises and an angled nose was red and dried, but through the pain he was still able to reach towards his Dave.

"Hey Jack, it's gonna be okay, it'll be okay, just wait," Dave leaned down to wrap his finger around Jacks, whispering soft assurances. As soon as he had finished he whipped his head up to Race and hissed instructions.

"Racetrack we're getting Jack back to my house."

Race looked between them and opened his mouth to say something.

"Now."

Race, suddenly extremely scared of David, jumped up to push Jack up to sitting.

"Slowly!"

Race flinched.

Jack moaned in pain as he was forced up. Davey reached forward to caress gently at one of Jacks bigger bruises on his face, and held his head when Jack nuzzled into his soft, warm hand.

"It'll be okay..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After helping (well, more precisely, dragging) Jack back to Davey's apartment Race went back to Newsies Square to tell the others what happened. He could only gesture a quick goodbye through the fussing of David's mother.

"Is this the Jack Kelly you've been talking so much about? I can help- if you need. I....I can...Help clean the wounds- oh I'll go make something hot! How 'bout I-"

"I can do it, Ma," Davey interrupted his mother, smiling softly afterward. Jack was currently asleep on Davey's bed, words and movements too hard on his body at the moment. David's mother insisted on helping.

"I can handle it, Ma, I swear. I... actually, when I think about it, can you get me a cloth and some water?"

"Of course!"

That would occupy her for a bit.

Letting out a breath, Davey moved over to where Jack was laid, sleeping peacefully, and sat at his feet.

Dave's mother came in to give her son the rag and water, then, after Davey asked her to close the door on her way out, left hesitantly.

Then they were alone.

The resting boy grunted softly in his dream. Dampening the cloth, Davey pressed it against Jacks forehead.

It went on like that for quite some time, and even though it was lonely, Dave enjoyed watching Jack's chest gently rise and fall with each of his quiet breaths, no pain or stress currently weighing it down.

When it came to unbuttoning Jacks vest to reveal his bare chest to clean the wounds underneath, Davey did it hesitantly and slowly.

Jack would understand, wouldn't he? Yeah...yeah.

~

A sudden coldness and sticky pain was what woke him. Jack stirred slightly, peeling open his heavy eyelids to squint at the hazy silhouette of a beautiful boy.

He looked to the side and Jack made out the curve of a nose through the shining light which shone behind the boy he stared at.

An angel?

Jack blinked the sand out of his eyes and grunted gingerly, moving his arms under him to lift himself up.

Davey turned. "Oh! Hey Jackie, how ya feeling?" He whispered, the edges of his lips curling in both happiness and worry.

"Aye, er," he winced as he moved his ribs, "could be better, i think."

Davey didn't like seeing Jack in pain, so he made a practiced move to help him sit up and positioned the pillow so he could rest on it.

Jack looked down at his open shirt, took one glance at a blushed Davey, and said nothing about it.

"So..." Davey whispered, "What happened? Who did it, 'cuz I'll go soak 'em right now if I have to, I'll knock some bloody sense inter 'em, you don't mess with Jack Kelly and get away with it-"

"Nah, nah, Davey don't do that it's fine." Davey huffed out a breath. Jack smirked as he watched him wrestle his thoughts and eventually- and angrily might I add- brought the cloth back up to a wound on Jacks cheek that had already been cleaned.

The silence stretched out for longer than what was comfortable.

"It was the Delancey's..." Jack muttered after awhile.

Davey gritted his teeth.

"They's were just pickin' on me, that's all." Jack could tell Dave didn't bye it. He didn't meet his eye, but the pause in his cleaning told a tale.

"What did they say?" David hissed, finally bringing back his hand and looking Jack in his beautifully dark eyes. Jack looked away.

"Theys....nothin'.....it was nothin' Dave..."

"It was not nothing, Jack, don't lie to me, I found you lying in an alley, hardly bloody conscious!"

Jack blinked. He hadn't heard Davey this angry since the strike.

"I....Fine.....T.....Theys were callin' me slurs. Sayin' I should die for being.....for liking boys like I do...." Jack looked away again.

David froze. Then he started to move, eyes cold as he pushed off the bed. But Jack caught his arm- trying to hide his flinch at the sudden movement.

"Davey....David, don't. Yer won't do no good, ya just get yourself beat up too."

"Well if that's what it takes-"

"Davey. P....Please just stay 'ere."

Dave sat back down, somewhat sad and reluctant, and they sat in silence for a time.

"You's don't deserve to die, Jack. Don't let them get to you."

Looking up slowly, Jack smiled- the kind of smile he would normally hide, or the one he wore while blushing. Then, he reached towards Dave's hand.

"Thanks, Dave, ya really are a....pal."

Davey focused his gaze intently on the floorboards, lips frowned, opened, closed, blew out a laboured breath. Previously furrowed brows deepened further.

Chuckling hurt, but Jack thought it was worth it. Reaching up to rest his hand on Dave's jaw, he sat up slightly further. He turned the boys face toward him.

They looked at each other tenderly, taking in each feature and strand of hair they were both so in love with.

Then, Davey leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of Jacks forehead, smiling against his skin.

He pulled back and Jack instantly grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a long needed hug.

[joyful-soul-collector]

Peter was scared

@keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars asked:  Ohhhh can you do one for the line: “Peter was scared.”?? Please?? Congratulations on 300 followers hon, you’re amazing!

Thank you so much! Here’s your story ❤️💙❤️

Read on Ao3!

300 Follower Celebration!

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Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Peter was scared. Not quite like “crushed by a building” scared, or “I have a history test tomorrow” scared, or even “maybe that wasn’t the best decision” scared, but a bit of all three and then some, mixing around in his stomach with all the terrified nausea in there. 

And all just because he would be spending the weekend at the Avengers Compound for the first time. Well, that wasn’t the only reason, but he didn’t want to think about the other one yet. Aunt May was going to be out of town for a few days, and as soon as Peter had casually mentioned this to his mentor Tony Stark, Tony had all but insisted that he stay at the compound until she got back. 

So here he was, sitting the backseat of a car headed for Upstate New York. And wishing more than anything that he wasn’t. 

Alright, maybe not more than anything, Peter reasoned, watching the world outside flash by. I do wish I was bulletproof. What’s the point of superpowers without bullet-immunity? Or at least a way to make it really easy to avoid it. Like superspeed. But it’s fine, I can stick to walls and have super strength. Basically really stubborn wallpaper.

Peter spent the rest of the ride thinking about nothing in particular until he saw the large white building looming on the horizon, and he felt his stomach do a nervous backflip and his heart start to pound. And it only got worse when he saw Tony waiting for him, his hands shoved in his pockets and a smirk on his face. 

“Hey there Underoos!” he said as Peter got out, lugging his backpack and a duffel bag with his clothes and toothbrush.

“Hey Mr. Stark!” Peter said, doing his best to mask the anxiety making him want to grimace rather than grin. Tony didn’t seem to notice, and Peter breathed a mental sigh of relief.

“Here lemme help you with that.” Tony held out a hand to take Peter’s backpack, but Peter held it just out of his reach. 

“You sure?” he said with a smirk, knowing Tony would take the bait. “It’s really heavy.” As he suspected, Tony rolled his eyes and gave him an exasperated glare. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that. Gimme,” he said, making grabby-hands at the strap of Peter’s backpack. Peter slid it off his shoulder and held it out to Tony. As soon as he let it go Tony had to scramble to keep it from hitting the pavement, ending up with both arms wrapped around his backpack. 

“Jesus--What the hell is in this thing!?” he said, struggling to get one of the straps over his shoulder. “Did you bring some tech in here with you or something?”

“Nope, that’s just my computer and my homework. And it’s actually a bit lighter than usual, I took out all my chemistry and calculus homework since I did it already,” Peter said. The look on Tony’s face made him burst into laughter, easing the knot of anxiety in his chest a bit. 

“Jeez, how do normal, non-spider kids do this?” he muttered as they made their way to the front doors, hunching over slightly, and almost making Peter feel bad for not carrying it himself. Almost. He was literally asking for it. 

“Well it definitely wasn’t a fun time back when I was a string bean with asthma. I had to use my inhaler any time I had to walk more than a block with that thing. Aunt May used to meet me outside our apartment building so she could carry it up the steps for me,” Peter said with a laugh, opening the door and holding it, letting Tony walk through and promptly drop the backpack on the nearest chair. When he stood up straight again Peter heard his back crack and giggled at the frown on Tony’s face. 

“That’s it. I’m making a drone to carry your stuff for you. Cuz that--” he pointed to the offending bag, “--is bullshit.”

“I have super strength, it’s not really heavy anymore,” Peter said with another snort of laughter. “It would be better to somehow convince my teachers I don’t really need five hours of homework every night.”

“Friday, remind me to figure out how much money it would take for a teacher to be bribed into giving less homework,” Tony said as they walked to the elevator. 

“Done Boss. Would you like to put in an order for pizza to be delivered for dinner?”

“You know me so well, Fri.”

The rest of the day passed pretty well, and Peter was distracted from his lingering worries by the gadgets in Tony’s lab and by the pizza and movies they watched together. But when Tony looked at his watch and told Peter he had to go to bed, he felt his heart sink. 

“Wh--It’s not that late--”

“It’s ten o’clock kid, and even superteens need sleep. Plus I think your Aunt would kill me if I let you stay up any longer,” Tony said, picking up the empty pizza boxes and putting them in the trash before switching off the TV. 

“Well, she doesn’t have to know--”

“As tempting as that is, you really should sleep. Believe me kid, you need rest to function, and I don’t wanna have to deal with a grumpy spider in the morning,” he said with a kindhearted smile. 

Peter barely had the willpower to make himself smile back. Tony gave him a hug before sending him off to his room. Peter got changed into his pajamas, feeling dread rise in his throat like bile with each passing second. He cracked open his door before shutting off the light, taking a small comfort in the fact that Tony would be staying up a little longer. He climbed into bed and did his best to fall asleep before the light in the hall went out. 

~~~

Peter’s eyes opened without his permission. He’d been asleep, and then quite suddenly, he wasn’t. But the effect of waking up was almost instantaneous. 

He couldn’t even see his blankets in front of his face, the darkness was so thick. It was surrounding his arms like heavy ink, filling his lungs with black ashes and crushing him, crushing him like a ton of concrete. He tried to calm himself, to ground himself with something, but he couldn’t see, and the panic was making his fingers feel numb, and seemed to stuff his ears with cotton. 

He threw himself out of bed, stumbling and feeling his bedside table for his phone, but when he couldn’t find it he felt the walls for a light switch. He wanted to cry when he finally felt his fingers graze the small switch, and he flicked it on. 

Nothing happened. 

“No, no no no no--” Peter whimpered, flicking it up and down and up and down, before feeling for the door still resting ajar. He stumbled into the hallway, and even though the windows provided a tiny amount of light, it was too cloudy outside to help much at all. Peter tried the hall lights, then the kitchen, then the living room, feeling tears tumble down his face as they all gave the same, terrifying result as the one in his room. 

“Please, please please please work, please--”

“Kid?”

Peter jumped so hard he almost crushed the switch he was frantically flicking. He turned, and there was Tony, his arc reactor glowing bright through his thin pajama shirt, providing the light Peter had been desperately looking for. Peter had to stop himself from flinging his arms around his mentor. 

“Wh-Why don’t any of the lights work?” Peter said, his voice trembling from fear and tears. 

“There was a storm--the thunder really didn’t wake you? It knocked out the power,” Tony said. 

“N-No, I… I have really loud neighbors.” Peter sniffed, wiping his eyes. “I-I’m s-sorry I woke you up. I d-didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine, I was just in my room reading anyway--Woah, wait are you crying?” Tony said as he came close enough for his metal heart to light up Peter’s face. Peter started wiping the tears away more quickly, ducking his face a little. 

“Oh, uh, no it’s ok, I’m--”

“Oh Peter,” Tony said softly, laying a hand on Peter’s cheek and wiping a stray tear from his eye. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

“N-no,” Peter said, feeling his face grow hot. 

“Are you sick? Are you hungry? Did you get hurt out on patrol? Peter you gotta tell me when these things happen--”

“No, no no no, it’s not anything like that,” Peter said. “It’s just… it’s stupid. It’s really really stupid.”

“Hey, don’t talk like that,” Tony said gently, pushing curls out of Peter’s shining eyes. “Whatever it is, it scared you, and you don’t have to be ashamed of being scared. Just tell me what happened kiddo.”

Peter ducked his head and squeezed his eyes shut, wringing his hands for a few seconds before he spoke. 

“I-I’m scared of the dark!” he blurted. “I-I woke up and the light in the hall was off and it was so dark it-it felt like I was suffocating, and I couldn’t even see my blankets or find my phone and then the lights wouldn’t work and--” Peter broke off with a sob, burying his face in his hands. “It didn’t used to be like this! I used to be able to sleep fine! But now whenever I’m in the dark by myself I feel like there’s something crushing me, like I’m being buried alive by a bunch of concrete and bricks and dust--”

Peter started crying even harder now, the tears falling so fast and his chest growing far too tight to speak any more. Luckily, it seems he didn’t have to, because Tony circled his arms around him, pulling him tightly to his chest so that Peter's head laid right beside his arc reactor. He ran his fingers through Peter’s hair while his other hand rubbed his back as Peter slowly regained composure. When his sobs had reduced to small hiccups and sniffs, Tony spoke. 

“There you go. You’re all spent huh? I haven’t seen you cry like that in a little while,” he murmured, starting to slowly rock them both side to side. 

“I--I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I don’t care about the crying, it’s okay to cry, remember? And it’s not stupid to be scared of the dark. You’ve been through a lot Pete, and you’re still just a kid. It makes sense that you’re scared of the dark. It’s okay to be scared,” he said, still speaking in that soft, calm voice that made Peter’s shoulders relax. 

“It’s just… kind of annoying,” Peter mumbled. “I know I’m safe, but when I wake up in the middle of the night like that I’m all like, disoriented and freaking out and too tired to get my thoughts in a logical row.”

“What do you usually do when this happens? Does your Aunt know about this?”

“Aunt-Aunt May knows, and I… I, um…” Peter trailed off, feeling his face turn bright red. Tony chuckled, causing Peter’s head to shake slightly on his chest. 

“I won’t judge you kiddo. Just tell me,” he said. Peter bit his lip and avoided Tony’s eyes. 

“I um… I have a nightlight,” he said. “It uh… it looks like your arc reactor.”

“Does it now? So even little toddler Peter liked Iron Man, did he?”

“No--I mean yeah, I did when I was little too, but um, my nightlight from when I was little broke a long time ago. Aunt May bought that for me after the first time I freaked out in the middle of the night,” Peter said. 

“Huh. Why the Iron Man light?”

“It’s not an Iron Man light. It’s a Mr. Stark light,” Peter said. Tony had to think about what he was saying for a moment before he got it.

“Ohhh, I’m your nightlight?”

“Yeah.”

“I… I keep you safe? I stop the uh, the crushing feeling?”

“Yeah.”

“So, why didn’t you bring your, heh, your Mr. Stark light with you? Did you forget it?”

“No, I just… I didn’t want you to make fun of me,” Peter mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Oh kid… I’m sorry,” Tony said, resting his chin on Peter’s head. 

“Huh? For what?” Peter said, opening his eyes in surprise when Tony hugged him a little closer.

“I clearly haven’t done a great job of making sure you know I wouldn’t make fun of you for something like that. I would never make fun of your fears kiddo, even if I did think they were silly. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear earlier,” Tony said. 

“Oh. Um, it’s alright, it’s fine,” Peter said, not entirely sure what else to say, and absentmindedly tracing his finger around the edge of Tony’s heart. 

“Heh, it’s not really, but I see what you’re trying to say,” Tony said with a small smile. “Well, since we can’t exactly go out and get your Mr. Stark light right now, why don’t you have the real thing for tonight?”

Peter blinked, then lifted his head off Tony’s chest, staring up at him in confusion. 

“What do you mean?”

“You want to sleep in my room tonight kiddo? I’ll be your light, I’ll make sure the dark doesn’t get you,” Tony said.

“A-Are you sure? I don’t wanna intrude or--”

“I’m offering, Spiderling, it’s not intruding if I offer.”

After a moment Peter smiled and nodded, and the two headed to Tony’s room. Tony was sure to grab Peter an extra blanket to help with his thermoregulation, and then they both slid under the covers. 

“Goodnight kiddo,” Tony said, being sure his arc reactor wasn’t hidden beneath the covers. 

“‘Night Mr. Stark,” Peter said with a yawn. “Thanks for being my nightlight.”

Tony smiled, warmth growing in his chest. 

“Of course Peter. If there was only one thing I could use this heart for, I’d want it to always be your light in the dark.”

[purplecatghostposts]

Roleswap AU ideas: if you want something big, you could maybe do when the gang first gets to Xen. Or if you want something more low key, could do right after the resonance cascade cuz I'm very curious about how you think Gordon would treat Benrey in that moment

You. *Grabs your face* You are a lifesaver.

Also halfway through brainstorming I went, “hey what if I COMBINED them” so get ready, I’m doing both. In chronological order of course

——

There’s a list of things Gordon expected to happen when he joined Black Mesa as the newest member of the Security Team.

(Ideally, he would’ve joined as a Scientist but Gordon needs more money to put him through college first so Security will have to do. Plus maybe if he does well, he can get a good reputation with Black Mesa and his chances of becoming a Scientist will get higher!)

A few of them come true. Gordon sees real, actual aliens, machines that can accomplish beyond what he’s dreamed, and only becomes entranced with the idea of becoming a Scientist and working with all of this.

A few of them don’t quite live up to his expectations. Namely, it’s hard to make friends. Too many of the Scientists are straight up dicks- especially Dr. Bubby, god, what Gordon would give to punch that man in the face- and the guards aren’t all that friendly either. They’re not quite prickly but most of them just want to get their jobs done, go home, and never talk with anyone they work with outside the workplace.

It’s frustrating but Gordon gets used to it. A few people make it bearable and he falls into a rhythm that’s comfortable enough.

(Years start to pass by. One- three- five now. Gordon has enough money but he hasn’t gone to college yet. His life isn’t perfect but... Can he really uproot it? Will becoming a theoretical physicist really make his life better? Is that really what he wants? Did he already miss his chance at the life he wanted by waiting?)

Everything changes in the blink on an eye. Because in all the things he thought would happen in his time in Black Mesa, a Resonance Cascade was not one of them.

His name is Benrey and he doesn’t have his passport. Gordon knows for a fact that Black Mesa sent an E-Mail and several follow ups a week in advance about this new policy. Everyone else had theirs but this guy- Benrey- claims he never heard of it.

Gordon pinches the bridge of his nose. Company policy dictates that he has to follow this guy around for the rest of the day to make sure he actually belongs here. And Gordon was hoping for an early lunch break that he’s not gonna get. Typical.

Gordon follow Benrey- even into the test chamber which Benrey says isn’t dangerous though Gordon takes one look at the machine buzzing to life and he isn’t so sure. But Gordon continues to stick around, even after the machine goes critical.

Everything goes green. Gordon wakes up in the dust of a ruined test chamber. Alarms blare in the distance, reminding him of the disaster they have on their hands. Benrey’s already up, staring at the remains of a machine with an faraway look in his eyes.

Gordon gets his attention as he stands. “Hey!” Benrey snaps to attention, eyes wide but he relaxes somewhat upon seeing Gordon. “What- what the hell was that?” Gordon gestures in the general direction of the machine.

Benrey’s mouth opens and closes before he eventually mumbles, “S-shit happens.”

Gordon gives him a hard look. “Shit happens.” Gordon repeats slowly. Is he really not taking this seriously? “That’s all you have to say? ‘Shit Happens’- that’s it?”

Benrey shifts in place. The laugh that leaves him sounds almost off but Gordon doesn’t know enough about Benrey to know for sure. “What... What else can I say? I mean, shit like this happens all the time, s’not new, right?”

“I- what?” Gordon sputters, looking Benrey up and down. “No! It doesn’t! Are you hearing those alarms? I’ve worked here for five and a half years and I’ve never seen anything like this happen! This is a Resonance Cascade, Benrey! This is a fucking disaster and you-!”

Benrey’s breath hitches and Gordon doesn’t finish. And you caused it, the thought rings in his ears but he doesn’t say it out loud.

There’s a look in Benrey’s eyes- an emotion that swallows him whole- but Gordon hasn’t the slightest what it is. Because next thing he knows, Benrey is laughing again and stuttering out a, “I have no idea what this is, dude. What’s a... Resident Cascade?”

“Resonance Cascade.” Gordon corrects with a huff. There’s a lopsided grin on Benrey’s face and Gordon doesn’t know how to deal with it. “Fucking- come on. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. We don’t know what damage y- what damage has been caused. Whatever it is, it’s dangerous.”

Benrey waves him off but quickly heads for the exit. “Psh, we can handle it.”

Gordon bites his lip and doesn’t comment on that. There’s a high chance he’s going to be stuck with Benrey for a while and he doesn’t like it.

—

Gordon has a good feeling what’s going to happen long before they enter the portal to Xen.

He knows now. That he’s not human- that he’s never been human. The portal to Xen calls to him like a twisted siren song that he doesn’t want to acknowledge even exists. It crackles with a power that physically feels good but leaves a sick feeling in his stomach.

Gordon knows how this is gonna go. He tries to talk Benrey out of going to Xen but, well...

Benrey hasn’t acted the same since Gordon got his hand cut off. He listens somewhat but Benrey subconsciously holds his gun-arm close to his chest whenever Gordon says a word to him. He no longer trusts him, that much is clear. Gordon doesn’t blame him. He wouldn’t either.

Gordon is the last one through the portal. Benrey is the first, leaping in without much hesitation with Bubby following close behind. Gordon almost doesn’t want to go but he hears the ringing in his ears. Xen has been calling to him for a while now and seeing the portal makes it impossible to ignore.

Gordon enters into Xen. He’s hit with a wave of energy he’s never felt before, even before he makes it to the other side.

It changes him. Gordon doesn’t mean to do it but his body gulps down the energy like it’s starving for it and Gordon grows. His body shifts and morphs and threatens to become inhuman but even if Gordon knows, he holds onto his human appearence. He wants to be human for a little longer. Though he can’t stop how tall he gets.

And Gordon knows now. Black Mesa has been looking for Xen’s main powerhouse for a long time- they told Benrey to search for him. To find their strongest alien and to take it out. Gordon enters Xen and suddenly, he remembers everything. He might’ve escaped Xen a long time ago but his connection to Xen never left. It’s him. Gordon’s what Black Mesa wants gone.

It’s almost funny. Gordon’s been working at Black Mess for years now- they could’ve dealt with him ages ago and would’ve been done with it. It’s a set up to a bad joke that Gordon wants to laugh hysterically at anyways because it’s so goddamn funny, isn’t it? His life has been a giant joke and it’s not even a good one.

Typical. Gordon never had good luck anyways.

It’s impossible to hide when Gordon arrives at Xen. He stands, far taller than any human could ever be and looms over the rest of the team. He stares down at them with tired eyes, knowing nothing is going to go his way. Everyone else backs up upon seeing him, looks of shock and terror on each of them, except for Benrey. Benrey doesn’t move, frozen and staring up at Gordon with wide, unblinking eyes.

Gordon knows the look on his face now. He’s seen it enough times that it makes him sick. In the testing chamber, a few times when they got attacked by soldiers and aliens, anytime they faced an alien far bigger than the rest, when Gordon left him at the mercy of the soldiers, when Gordon saw him again afterwards- Gordon knows that look like the back of his hand, even if he didn’t understand it the first time he saw it.

It’s fear. And Gordon caused it.

“It’s you...” Benrey’s voice shakes, staring up at him. He doesn’t have to elaborate, Gordon knows what he means.

“It’s me.” Gordon nods, resigned.

He doesn’t blame him when Benrey runs.

——

This was a veryyyy fun write, I’m not gonna lie. Thank you so much for the suggestion! If you got another one, feel free to send it! I hope y’all enjoy!

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 3: Rookie Hazing?

(Lyn)

My breathing fell into my familiar breathing pattern as I jogged through the town. The early morning sun was peeking through the clouds, trying to be seen. My music was blasting through my earbuds as I turned to go through the walking trail this morning.

Today was the first day of actual classes and practices. Me and a few of the others already have been to the pool a bunch this week, but this is when shit got real. After the disappointing loss to Turner University at last year’s AUS, Coach Jacob and team really wanted to get the title this year. It was one thing to lose, it was another thing all together to lose by 1 fucking point. Ugh, even just thinking about it pissed me off. Turner is a good school, don’t get me wrong. But man, we worked our assess off last year.

I passed by an older couple going out for their usual morning walk. I waved to them as I always do, earning a smile in return. I liked the coziness of this small town. Being able to see the same people every morning doing their routine as I did was relaxing and brought a sense of calm to my otherwise chaotic life.

I sprinted the final couple of kilometers home, slowing down as I approached the track around the football field. Loryn, Maddie, and Andrew where already there, chatting as they stretched for their early morning workout.

Loryn smiled when she saw me coming and tossed me my water bottle. I pulled out my music and took a huge swig from it. “Thanks, I really needed that,” I said. I lifted the end of my shirt and wiped the sweat and water off my face.

“No problem-o,” she responded. “How was your run?”

“Same as usual,” I said as I take another drink.

Andrew walked over and gave me a huge hug. “Ready for the season, Lyn?”

I nodded into his shoulder, holding onto his shirt. Andrew was the captain of the Men’s team, and he was like an older brother to me. This was his last year on the team, and I really wanted to win the championship for him and the other 4th years. They put so much into this program, and just one win would be an awesome reward for them.

“Please don’t cry, or I might start too,” he mumbled.

“Not crying,” I pulled away, grinning at him. “I’m just thinking of how lame the team’s gonna be once you finally retire from it. Are they gonna make Will the captain next year, because like, yeesh.”

This earned a laugh from Andrew. “Well, I frigging hope not. Y’all better vote for Oliver, or Thom. If Will gets the captain position next year, you’re all doomed.”

“Fuck me with a rusty screw if Will gets it,” said Maddie bitterly. “The only thing bigger than his ego is his Hummer. I swear, I will never get over his parents airlifting that thing across the fucking country.”

It’s not like we hated Will or anything, he just was a huge pain in the ass. Both his parents are doctors, and he makes a point of letting you know how much money he has. During his first year here, apparently, his parents had his Hummer helicoptered across the country so he could have it here. Not sure why he didn’t drive the damned thing instead, but the rich do very extreme and extravagant things to prove their wealth. Maddie is a 3rd year like Will, so she’s been putting up with his Will-ness longer than Loryn or I.

We did our usual morning workout routine, just to get used to the rhythm again. Medicine ball tosses to each other with an added squat. After that, 2 sets of 20 jackknifes, 2 sets of 25 crunches, and 2 sets of 1 minute plank. We did our wheelbarrow run across the football field, giggling like fools as we did. Andrew and Maddie beat me and Loryn by a fingertip. Loryn jokingly apologized for being too short, a running joke on the team.

After that, we headed to food hall. Loryn liked to make fun of me for calling it that, since it was technically called meal hall, but that’s where I get all my food, not just meals. Hence, food hall. Still, she immediately started teasing me as we got near it.

The hall was abuzz with all the new frosh and returning students talking about their classes. It was nice to see this place so lively after being essentially dead for the week. I could already hear people talking about going to First Class Bash, the big first party of the year. I never really went to those often, parties that is, since the team had a drinking ban in place as soon as the season started. Maybe if some of the guys on the team wanted to go I would, but I was just as happy to stay in with the goofballs and have our own get together.

Oh shit, speaking of. The rookie party was this weekend, actually. It almost slipped my mind. Today was their official first day. It may sound weird, but Coach Jacob liked having them come for their own practice to get used to each other and the facilities first. That way, if they don’t feel like sticking around, there’s none of that awkward shame of seeing your ex-teammates on campus. Not that anyone actually gave a shit.

I sat down next to Matt and Kerry, two members of the team. They were nearly identical twins, but with different body builds since they swam different strokes. Matt was bulkier in his shoulders and trunk cuz he swam butterfly like I did, while Kerry was leaner but a bit bowlegged from swimming breaststroke for so many years. Kerry was letting her hair grow out after shaving it last year, and it was tied up in this stupidly adorable tiny ponytail, while Matt had shaved his hair into practical buzzcut. Kerry leaned over once I was settled and pointed.

“Did you see?”

“Did I see what?” I asked as I shoved the whole fried egg into my mouth.

“Derek is sitting with Poppy.”

I rolled my eyes. Derek Freeman was one of my exes from last year. Lyn from first year got a little crazy when it came to dating, and I ended up going through 6 different people before finally calling it quits. Derek was one of them, but he was by far the worse. He got super possessive and couldn’t understand why I dumped his creepy ass. He always knew my schedule and followed me everywhere. He would wait for me outside the pool and walk back to my res with me, which would have been super sweet if he didn’t ask to come inside every single time. Even after we broke up, he still followed me places. Eventually he got the message once I started dating Willa Hoffman, but man was he annoying.

Then there was Poppy. There was nothing wrong with her, per se. We just were partners on a project last year and she nearly cost me getting an A+ in Intro to Sociology, much to my annoyance. I cared a lot, maybe a little bit too much, about my grades. So, yeah, there’s nothing that really pisses me off more when you get stuck with a shit partner for a project.

“Honestly, Ker, I don’t care,” I said. “Hell, they deserve each other IMO.”

Kerry shrugged as she got back into her seat properly, finally letting Matt get back to eating. We ate in comfortable silence before Matt spoke up.

“Gunner is on probation.”

I dropped my fork in confusion. Even Kerry looked confused. “What do you mean, Matt?” I asked, leaning against the table as I did, locking eyes with him.

He sighed and ran a hand over his head. “Okay, don’t tell anyone because I’m not supposed to know, but Gunner was caught doing drugs this summer. Like, coke. Anyway, Jacob heard about it and helped him through rehab and stuff, but the dean put him on probation until his grades and attitude prove that he actually got clean.”

“Shiiiiiiit,” I pushed my tray away. Leo Gunner was the best sprinter on the team, leading the Men’s team to having great scores in the relay last year. If he wasn’t allowed to swim this season, we might be in serious trouble. There was no one as fast as him. The next best would be Parker, and even then, he wasn’t near Gunner’s level.

“Oh, that’s awful,” said Kerry, putting her hand over her mouth.

Matt nodded. “Yeah, it’s shit for sure. I talked to him this morning and apparently, he’s allowed to practice, but he might not be allowed to sign up for the meets. I think Jacob might bring it up to Andrew and Emma today, but he might not let the rest of the team know just yet.”

The information sat heavy in my stomach. I walked all the way to my class with my mind racing, wondering if there was any way we could fight this decision. All conclusions came to a resounding no. The university was pretty strict about athletes using illegal substances. They only thing that probably saved his ass was that it happened this summer.

I took my usual spot near the front, waiting for the rest of the students to fill in. This was a second-year history course, and I really wanted to be psyched for it, considering history was my favourite subject, but it was hard when I was worrying about things out of my control.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked over and nearly groaned when I saw it was Will. I nodded, but he was already taking the seat anyway. I hated sitting next to Will, he just sat on Instagram the whole time, or TikTok. Fuck my life right now.

He reached over and tugged on my ear. “Why the long face, Lyn?”

I batted his hand away. He knew I was self-conscious of how big my ears were, and he liked to pick at that at any opportunity. “No long face here, Will.” I forced a grin onto my face before turning my attention back to my desk.

“Whatever you say.”

Ugh, def getting a new seat on Thursday. I can’t deal sitting next to him and dealing with his antics at practice too. There was only so much abuse one gal could take for the day.

XXX

Thank God it was Friday!

I managed my schedule perfectly, so I had no classes on Friday. It made the other days more miserable for sure, but having a three-day weekend every week? Exactly what I needed to stay on top of things this year. Just practice in the afternoon, and I was free to enjoy myself. The rookie party was tomorrow, and they were a good batch. Loryn’s younger sister Robin joined the team this year, which was super exciting for her.

I got to enjoy breakfast without having to rush it, plus no homework was assigned this week. Today was a nice one, and I was looking forward to just being able to chill and enjoy it. As I left, I happened to notice that Ally was leaving the food hall. Grinning, I raced over to where she was.

“Hey, Ally!” I fell into step beside her.

“Lyn!” Ally looked up at me, a smile breaking out. She had her hair in this half up pinned style, it looked really good on her. Also, she was wearing different glasses today. She usually wore some rectangle ones, but these ones were like a half moon shape.

“How’s your first week, frosh?” I asked.

“Well, after the disaster that was the bookstore incident…” she looked down, thinking about something before shaking her head. “It’s been lovely. I think once I get into a nice routine, I won’t feel as anxious.”

I was curious about the whole bookstore thing, but I respected that she clearly wasn’t ready to talk about it openly with me. Fair enough, we only just met last week, and I barely have seen her since.

“Hey, well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself so far! Is it cool if I walk with you until your next class? I’m free.”

“Oh,” she smiled shyly at me, “that would be really nice, actually.”

I smiled back. We chatted about her classes all the way to Bennet, where her class was. I leaned against the wall as she finished explaining something about her drama class. That was a class I took in first year, but it sounds like she has Professor Kinkly, whereas I had Professor Statton. Kinkly was more by the book, Statton was know as the campus kook. I had a feeling Ally was gonna like Kinkly more.

“I guess I should head in, huh?”

“I guess you should. But hey,” I said, “we should totally hang this weekend, you know? Whatcha doing tomorrow?”

Ally looked contemplative before shaking her head. “Nothing, I think.”

“Perfect! Let’s grab a bite to eat, and you can finish telling me all about your week.”

“O-okay, sounds great!”

Ally wished me a goodbye and dashed inside, as to not be late for class. I watched her go before snorting under my breath. I liked her, she was smart and funny. It would be nice to have someone as a friend outside the team. Guess it was just my lucky day when she approached that table I forced Loryn to help me set up.  

Feeling great, I practically skipped all the way back to my res.

XXX

The smell of chlorine was something that was never going to get old. It calmed me when nothing else could. I know that sounds a little dramatic, but the pool is my second home. Didn’t matter how I felt at home or school or whatever, I could come to a pool and swim those thoughts and troubles away.

We finished with our pre-practice routines, and I jumped into the pool, shivering a little as the cold water enveloped my body. Right away everything felt amazing. Reach, pull, reach, pull. The easy lazy rhythm of the warmup let my thoughts drift away. It was nearing the end of the warmup when I caught Andrew’s eye underwater during my turn, and we ended up racing our last 25 meters. He beat me and we high fived as I hung onto the lane rope.

Coach Jacob laughed as the others finished their warmups. He was a retired swimmer himself and did things to keep himself in shape. He had one of those kind faces that really made you feel welcomed. Sure, he could be a hard ass, but he just really wanted win, like we all did.

He read practice off the board for us, and we did as was instructed. In in a blink of an eye, practice was over, and we were all hauling our asses out of the pool. Practice wasn’t too hard today, but since it’s been a while since any of us had structure like that, we all felt the ache of the week catching up with us finally.

“Okay, gather ‘round!” Coach Jacob called out. We all headed towards the bench and took seats. Loryn sat next to me and we cuddled, trying to not freeze as we listened to what he had to say.

“So, this is the last year for some of us,” he indicated the 4th years with a nod, “and a new beginning for others,” a nod to the 1st years. “However, the goal is the same. We wanna be number one at AUS’s this year. We wanna send people to CIS’s this year. We wanna kick Turner’s stupid butt all over the pool deck. We start morning practice next week, 5:30 sharp, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Gym time is 6:00 on Tuesday and Thursday. We have our usual afternoon practice at 4:30 every day. If you can’t make practice, the reason better be fucking good. Rookies, never be afraid to ask questions. These guys are your family while you’re here, and like family, sometimes we don’t always get along. But try your best to stay pleasant with the others. Lastly, welcome to the Mount Seamus Wolves!” he finished with a huge grin. We clapped and headed into the locker rooms, where a hot shower was calling my name.

“Man, I am looking forward to the weekend!” Loryn said with a huge stretch as we grabbed our shampoo and conditioner.

“Me too,” I said with a grin. “I already made plans.”

“Oh my God, shut up! Who with?”

“That cute frosh from last week.”

Loryn scrunched up her face in thought. “Gabriel or the brunette you showed around?”

I laughed, hitting her playfully with my towel. “Dude, you’re the only one who thinks Gabe is cute, you know?”

“Not true! I know Jackie does too!”

“Damn right I do!” Jackie said, walking by us with a laugh.

We all laughed as we turned the water on. It felt great to take a hot shower after practice. We were gossiping about people on campus when I noticed something strange.

“Emma, are you okay?”

Emma, the captain for the Women’s team, looked over. “Huh, why you ask?”

I blinked. “Because you’re covered in…blood?”

She looked up and shrieked. Sure enough, something red and gooey was coming from the shower head. Actually, it was coming from all the showers! We all screamed and ran out, not even bothering to turn them off.

“What the actual fuck?” Emma was shaking with either anger or fear, wasn’t sure which it was. “Did someone think it would be funny to prank the rookies or something?” She whipped around to glare at all of us.

When no one fessed up, she growled in annoyance. “Okay, maybe one of the guys thought it would funny? Whoever did this, it’s seriously fucked up. Getting sprayed with fake blood is not how I wanted to end my Friday night!”

“Uh, not to be that person, Emma,” I said hesitantly, “but if it was fake blood…wouldn’t it have stopped by now?” I pointed over to the running showers, where a steady stream of red was still coming out.

Emma’s face paled. She looked at her hands, where the blood was and sniffed it. “Oh my God…it smells like copper.”

That’s when Jackie threw up all over the floor and Kerry burst into tears.

XXX

I was in my room, curled up under all the blankets I could possibly be curled under. We texted the boys after, to see if something similar happened to them. When Andrew and Matt both responded no, we got even more freaked out. We ended up calling campus security for them to see if there was something they could do about it. They said they would look into and escorted us back to our residences. I took such a scalding hot shower that I was still pink from it, but I still didn’t feel clean.

The group chat was blowing up with questions. The poor rookies were understandably upset. They thought someone was trying to haze them, but that wasn’t the case at all. Hazing wasn’t something we did anymore. They didn’t do it in my first year, and Emma said that her class was the last one that got hazed.

I didn’t have the energy to be dealing with this, so I muted the chat for the time being. Nura was sitting on her bed, her eyes on her computer screen but I could see her looking at me from time to time. I mean, I would be too. If Nura came back and told me that she just ended up taking a blood shower, I would be fucking concerned too.

I rolled over and tugged at my ear. It was habit of mine when I was anxious about something, and I was definitely anxious about this. If it turned out to be a stupid prank from one of the other teams, that would be one thing. But if it wasn’t…then what did it mean?

I had this crazy thought, pulling my phone up to my face. I wanted to see if it happened any time else. I did a quick Google search, and found out that this wasn’t the first time that something like this happened at this school. It was in 1968, and in 1995, and again in 2007. Okay, that was interesting.

Okay, so unless someone was dumping bodies into a water reservoir that only affected the women’s locker room, something freaky was going on. I’m not that big into that spiritual mumbo jumbo, but I’m not going to deny that this was more than a coincidence. However, it was history, something I specialized in. If I could trace back and see if there were any more connections, maybe I can establish a pattern.

That was a problem for Lyn of tomorrow, however. I was thoroughly exhausted after tonight’s events. I bookmarked the page on my phone, just so I wouldn’t forget. I was going to need my laptop for this.

I just hoped I could find something that can explain what the hell happened.

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing a series)

“Ya know, I dunno why I thought she mighta been jokin’ ‘bout the tuxes.” Croissant was blushing brightly as she was getting her measurements taken.

Mostima shrugged. “I don’t ever plan on getting married, but one of us was bound to tie the knot sooner or later, and Texas needs to find an officiant who will sign two certificates for her discreetly before it’s even an option for her. Where are your hanger-ons, by the way?”

“With Angelina, doing the same thing we are.” The Lupo had a Pocky stick in her mouth like a cigar, taking it all in. “I wouldn’t marry Sora, though. Exu maybe, but not Sora. She’s a good girl, but the whole ‘idol worship’ is a bit much.”

“She’d really want you to praise her that much?” The Sarkaz smirked.

Texas rolled her eyes. “Funny.”

“If any’n’s worshippin’ any’n, it ain’t Tex.” The Forte chuckled, but had to stop when the tape measure came ‘round again. “Hey, how tight this need ta be? Least gimme a lil’ room ta breathe ‘ere.”

“Don’t question my judgment, ‘less you wan’a punishment. I been wearin’ this look a lot longer than you.” Emperor bit back, making the last few notes he needed.

The three shared a glance. “You wear T-shirts over your feathers, though,” Mostima observed.

“Well, yeah, cuz’ I like the style,” he replied, “but if ya ever see me rockin’ my birthday suit, you’d know I’m just as fuckin’ classy. Got killer shoes to boot.”

“What, yer feet?” Croissant glanced down at the penguin’s openly-visible legs.

He nodded. “Damn straight. The boys will have your suit to ya within a couple days; when’s the big shindig, anyways?”

“Uh...I dunno.” The Forte shrugged. “We’re gonna sign the papers a week from now, but we don’t have money for a ceremony.”

“Well, then, imma have to do it myself.” Emperor opened his notes again and walked away, pen scribbling faster than before.

Texas shook her head. “That’s how you know you’re the Boss’s favorite, Cross.”

“Aw, shucks, I didn’ wan’im to pay fer it.” She sighed. “I’m gonna be payin’im back ferever at this rate.”

“Could be worse - if he died before forever came along, the debt would probably go right back to the company.” And with that, the Sankta left, the other two not too far behind, to meet Bison in the lobby.

Meanwhile, Magallan was moving at a more leisurely pace, listening to Angie recount the proposal story. “That sounds exactly like I imagined. Empy’s was a lot more ostentatious, but I had no idea what was coming, either. WIth him, he could’ve been holding an impromptu concert.”

“That’s the Emperor, alright.” Exusiai sighed. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like to go through something like this. Can you, Sora?”

“Hmm?” The ‘Lupo’ had been doing just that, actually.

Angelina smiled. “Oh, I think she can. I’ve had that look on my face for the past week now...It’s too bad we can’t afford to have a ceremony, though.”

“You can’t?” The Liberi measuring her stopped. “Oh, dear, why didn’t you tell me? I’m sure Empy and I can help you with that; consider it our wedding gift to you both.”

“You’d really do that? But they’re so expensive...” Her fiance’s sense for money was rubbing off on her.

Magallan chirped merrily. “Oh, it’s no big deal; we’re making so much, it’s a drop in the bucket. How does three weeks from today sound?”

“Oh, Magallan, I can’t just blindly agree without talking to my Croissantwich first...buuut that’ll probably be okay.” The Vulpo was about to explode from happiness; luckily, they were done with measurements at this point (because of Liberi efficiency), so she was free to detonate with glee as she burst out of the dressing room. “Croissaaaaaant!”

“Angie?!” The Forte heard her and turned around in time to be slammed by a full-speed makeout machine which managed through sheer enthusiasm to knock her to the floor.

Texas nodded as the other two followed out. “Ceremony?”

“Ceremony,” Exusiai confirmed. “Emp and Maggie paying for the whole thing?”

“That’s what he said...Wonder if he’ll pay for ours.”

Two Penguin Logistics members turned bright red as Bison and Mostima had an intense but muted conversation off to the side...Yep, just another day in Penguin Logistics.

-----------

“Wow. They really did pull out all the stops, didn’t they?” The Doctor and Amiya took back their IDs from the door guard as they walked into the auditorium that’d been taken over. “It’ll be hard to match for ours.”

“Doctor darling, we probably shouldn’t compete with the Emperor like that. He doesn’t like to back down from a fight.” Besides, why would she need a grand ceremony? Just her and the Doctor at the altar, Kal’tsit as the Maid of Honor, Savage and Blaze as bridesmaids-

There was a tap on her shoulder as her date gestured to the seating. “I wonder if they expect to fill the place tonight.”

“Everyone’s sitting so close to the front, it’s hard to tell.” The Cautus shrugged. “Let’s sit back here. It’s a bit crowded there...So many emotions at once might overload me.”

“As you wish~ Oh, they’re about to start, I think. One question: why is Texas on the other side and wearing a suit? And why isn’t Emperor, even though Lappland is in one?”

Amiya shrugged. “Hard to say, Doctor. How did Lappland get to be a groomsman when Bison is- Oh! He’s the officiant.”

“When did he get that certifi-” He stopped as soon as Bison began to read.

“Friends, colleagues, and esteemed leaders of Rhodes Island,” the Forte began. “While I stand before you today acting in a merely ceremonial capacity in this celebration, I cannot begin to tell you how exciting a day this is not just for us at Penguin Logistics, but for Rhodes Island as a whole. Never have I seen a pair more in love than the two who come here today to declare their union in holy matrimony. Will the groom please come forward?”

From a door off to their right, there was a bit of a ruckus, followed by Croissant stepping through with a sheepish smile on her face as Emperor walked her to the altar before taking a front-row seat. Evidently, she’d knocked over a coat rack or something as she’d approached the door, but that wasn’t what grabbed people’s attention.

The Doctor squeezed Amiya’s hand. “Our Croissant is a rather handsome woman, isn’t she?”

“Oh, hush, dear.” She lightly slapped his hand, which was resting atop hers on the chair arm between them. “I think she looks lovely.”

“That’s what I meant, darling, just in a masculine sense. The style matches her perfectly, and the tailoring is also impeccable, honestly.”

She gave him a look. “Have you been studying this sort of thing?”

“It’s important to have a broad knowledge base.” He smiled as the Forte stepped up to the altar, clearly noticed she’d missed her mark, and shuffled a little to get into place. “Oh, Cross...”

“Uh...thank y’all for comin’. Wudn’t sure how many people’d wanna come when we’d already tied the knot on our own, but uh...It means a lot ta both of us, I know. Uh...” She probably had more, but she choked up with tears in her eyes in the face of Rhodes Island’s full support on display. “Th-thank y’all so much...”

As Texas patted her on the shoulder, Bison continued. “Is the bride ready?”

“As ready as she’ll ever be,” Mostima muttered as the opposite door opened to reveal a procession: Greyy with a pair of rings displayed on a pillow walking with Gummy, who was sprinkling the floor behind them with flowers. Behind them, Magallan was arm-in-arm with Angelina, who was wearing a suit of her own.

“Oh my God,” Amiya gasped in wonder. “Doctor-”

He nodded, squeezing her hand. “I see her, too, dear.”

“Hot damn,” Emperor audibly muttered, catching the attendees off-guard and eliciting more than a few laughs.

“Thank you, Emperor.” Angie smiled at him before turning to the crowd as Maggie took a seat. “My parents aren’t here, and I doubt they’d have agreed to attend if I’d told them, but Penguin Logistics is more like my family than anyone. The other day, I finally married into it, and...I just wanna say, to everyone from Rhodes Island who was able to make it, and the folks who had work to do, I appreciate everything you’ve all done for Cross and me since I got here. Even if this probably isn’t what any of you saw coming...Bison?”

He smiled. “Greyy, if you would?” The Perro held out the pillow for the couple to each take a ring. “Excellent. Now, as I wasn’t able to be fully ordained in time for this ceremony, I can’t lead the two in a recital of their vows, but they asked to be able to each say something here today. Angelina, if you will?”

“I think my wifesband should go first,” she teased, grinning at the blush that turn of phrase created.

“Well, ya only get ta do this right once, huh...” The Forte wiped at her eye. “Hoo boy. I was there the night Angie realized her feelin’s fer me, but I’ll a’mit, e’er since the firs’ day I saw ‘er, I ‘ad a pretty good ide-er just ‘ow wun’erful she is. Ain’t a lotta girls in’a world that got both a good ‘ead on ‘er shoulders and a warm ‘eart like she got, but ‘at ain’t e’ry’in ta love ‘bout ‘er either. Not sure if she ‘members this, but first time we met was back when she aksidelly went’n PL lookin’ fer the Doctor. Nothin’ like ‘avin’ some’n so gorjus tell ya ‘Sorry, was lookin’ fer some’n else,’ ya know?”

A bit of laughter from the crowd before she continued. “I reckon I ‘ad the last laugh there, tho’, cuz’ guess ‘oo gets to call ‘erself Mrs. Ajimu now...Angelface, we were friends long ‘fore I thought we ‘ad a chance at bein’ lovers, so you know when I say I’ve seen ya at yer best and yer worst, I ain’t tryin’a diss ya. There ain’t a nuther person in ‘is room as lucky as me t’day, ‘cuz the love of my life loves meh back...Ya prolly shud stop meh, else I’ll just keep ram’lin’.”

“That’s alright; even if these folks have other places to be, I’d listen to every word. You know, darling, if it was a nightmare that inspired you to propose to me when you did, I have to wonder what happens when you have a good dream, but I think I’ve been living in one since the day we had our first date. Between movie nights with the company and waking up to your smile in the mornings, it’s like living in one of the cheesy teen novels I loved reading after floating up to one of my usual spots. Loving you is a flashback and a memory and a dream and a reality all rolled up in knowing that, whatever happens - arguments, deployments that separate us, maybe even one of us getting hurt - there’s nothing in the world that’ll stop me from needing you, wanting you, standing by your side...Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me...” Having said her piece, tears in her eyes, Angie reached out and slid her ring on Cross’s finger, who did the same in turn.

“I think I’m gonna cry,” the Doctor whispered to his date, who already was. “G-good call on the back sea--” And there went the water works.

Across most of the auditorium, actually, save for those physically incapable, and Bison, who soldiered on regardless. “That said, before we get to the festivities provided by Emperor and Magallan for the evening, it’s my duty to ask: if anyone here has any objection to this union - not that it will matter from a legal standpoint - speak now or forever hold your peace...Good, because I’d punch you myself if you did. Then, by the power invested in me by Rhodes Island and subsidiary company Penguin Logistics-”

“When did that happen?” Amiya asked in a hushed voice. “I thought we were just partners with them?”

“Closure and Emperor came to some kind of understanding. I wasn’t there for the process, I just signed the agreement.”

“-I now announce you to the world as Mrs. and Mrs. Ajimu. You may now kiss your bride.”

You didn’t have to ask them twice.

The celebration afterwards was wild as hell. Emperor had an impromptu concert (as expected); Bison proposed to Mostima, who actually agreed before falling apart in a spectacular show of emotion Exusiai had thought was impossible for her; the Doctor and Amiya tore up the dance competition that broke out, but narrowly lost to Croissantwich and Angelface in the karaoke contest afterwards; Lappland admitted that she wasn’t actually in love with Texas but trying to rile her up into a duel so she could get to Exusiai the entire time, which actually got the Texas family’s most composed to go full Mafia Samurai on her ass as the Sankta and the idol looked on in a mix of horror and “omg I knew it;” and through it all, drink was had, and merry was made.

Terra was a difficult place to live in. Poverty, inequality, terror, bloodshed, fear, hatred, jealousy - they’re no less potent or prominent on its surface than any other world’s, a product of the inevitable confluence of humanity’s imperfections magnified across a barely-numerable and broadly-scattered population. With all that said, though, there was much to live for, and as Angelina and Croissant made it home and threw themselves out of their clothes for the ‘real’ celebration of the evening, none of that mattered. Tomorrow would come, or it wouldn’t, but that night was theirs in a way no other would be...

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Reader working in retail dealing with a rude customer and Erik is a regular who steps in to put the customer in their place.

“Who the fuck is the manager for this place?”

An angry white woman with thin brunette hair wearing a floral blouse with navy blue slacks marches into a thrift record and book store located in Soho. She had an old record in her hand; a Hall and Oates classic. Looking around with beady angry eyes, she presses her thin chapped lips into a hard line.

“Hellloooo?!!! I said who is the got damn manager of this dump?!!”

Y/N, the manager in question, was ringing up a few customers, wishing them a good day before closing her register. She heard the loud woman loud and clear. Y/N had dealt with this same woman and her daughter on plenty of occasions but they still decided to show their faces. If you had a problem with the thrift store why continue to come back? She wasn’t going to entertain them today.

“Y/N, you want me to call the police?” Y/N’s cousin, Layla, came into the thrifted shop to help every now and then.

“No, it’s cool. I can deal with it. Just get the bat ready just in case I gotta crack some skulls open.”

Clearly, the woman and her daughter didn’t know who they were messing with. Y/N is skilled in jujitsu and she could swing a bat at your ass like you were a baseball. She had to do that to some drunk man one evening who thought he would come in and rob her.

“How about that African stick that Erik got for you? The Nguni stick?”

A sly smirk slid across her face at the mention of his name. Erik Stevens was a regular of hers at the thrift shop. He would come to see her almost every night since he lived in a fancy condo in Soho, Manhattan. Layla was convinced that Erik had a huge crush on Y/N but a man like him couldn’t crush on Y/N. He was gorgeous. Full head of short moisturized dreads, fresh shape up, smelling like coco butter and mango butter, skin smooth and blemish free minus the smooth cemetrical scars on his arms. Manicured nails, white teeth, smooth moisturized lips, muscles everywhere, a deep raspy voice with an allure that has her weak in the knees. Y/N could talk about Erik all damn day and swoon.

“Yeah, bring out the Nguni.”

Y/N adjusted her skater skirt before walking around the register to approach the angry white woman. Her daughter was just behind her with arms folded and a scowl on her face. Let the bitch try something. They were just jealous because Y/N made more profit than they did at that musty ass boutique they owned. Hating ass bitches.

“Can I help you?!” Y/N approached with obvious annoyance.

“I want a fucking refund!!” The woman shook the record in Y/N’s face with rage.

“This piece of shit won’t play!!! You gave me a fucked up record and I want my damn money back.”

“Non-refundable.” Y/N cut the woman off sharply.

“Excuse me?” The daughter decides th speak up now.

“I SAID. Non-refundable. Now can y’all please leave my fucking store this is a regular thing with y’all two.”

Both of their faces grew red like a beet. Y/N was ready to handle their ass if they tried anything.

“See, what kind of owner tells their customer that? You are supposed to be selling good quality items at a thrifted price and you can’t even do that?” The woman expected her words to cut deep but they didn’t.

“Sounds like hate to me. Now it’s time for y’all to go and don’t come back I’m sick of seeing y’all face. Y’all supposed to be running a boutique, right? Ain’t making no money coming up in here with all that bullshit.”

At that point, both the woman and her daughter walked closer like they wanted to do something. Layla walks around the counter, Nguni stick in hand. Luckily there were no other customers in sight. Too late, the door opens and in walks Erik Stevens dressed in an oversized denim jacket, white t-shirt, black cargo pants, and some black timbs. The smile on his face faded once he saw the angry glare on Y/N’s beautiful face.

“Y/N, what’s going on, baby girl?” Erik steps forward, shoulders squared. The sound of his voice made Y/N’s heart melt. She looked up at him, eyes softer now and eyelashes batting like an innocent girl.

“Don’t worry yourself handsome, they’ll be gone real soon.”

The woman looked over her shoulder at Erik, looking him up and down with disgust. Erik was used to that look and it wasn’t about to faze him at all.

“Got a problem with your eyes?” He says while taking his place next to Y/N.

“Are you her husband or something?” The daughter asks with interest. She was loving the sight of Erik and it made Y/N want to gag.

“Dont worry about all that. What’s the problem?” Erik folds his toned arms across his chest, legs in a wide stance.

“I want my money back that’s what,” the woman points to the record angrily again, “it won’t play! She’s selling items that are damaged! I need my money now or I’m not leaving.”

“Oh, you’re leaving. Now.” Erik says with a predatory voice. The woman and her daughter slightly jump at the change in tone. No longer was it smooth and hypnotic. It was dangerous and scary.

“Andrea, call your father,” the woman asks in a hurry.

“Bring your husband and watch I toss his ass out of here.” Erik laughs.

“ARE YOU THREATENING MY HUSBAND?!!” At this point the woman was beyond distraught. She looked like she wanted to cry. What did she think she was coming in here to get her way? It doesn’t work like that.

“You, your husband, your daughter,” Y/N says with a sly smirk, “step foot in here again and see what happens.”

“Free country!” The daughter, Andrea, yells over her mothers shoulder, a pinched look on her face and her chin held high like she was something.

“Layla, pass me my stick,” Y/N reached for the stick, grabbing it in hand to show them that she wasn’t all talk. She meant business.

“Look, she’s gonna use her stick. Do that and we’ll call the police.”

“Nothing new with y’all people anyway. Why don’t y’all just get the fuck out?! You don’t want Y/N and Layla to put hands on y’all, right?” Erik was just as fed up with the shit. Even in this moment Y/N was extremely turned on.

This was going on long enough. Y/N could tell that the woman and her daughter were loosing it, realizing that they weren’t going to get their way with this.

“Well? I don’t see y’all moving.” Erik barks out. The door to the shop opens and a stout man with grey receding hair and a mustache that reminded you of the end of a broom steps forward with his fists balled like he was about to do something.

“What the hell is the problem!!!” He yells. He sounded like a sailor. A fucking Popeye.

“Nothing, dear, go back to the shop.”

“Oh, there is a problem. Andrea texts me about coming here because some man is making threats to my family! My brother is a detective he will have you arrested, pal!”

He wagged his finger at Erik who stood there with a wide grin.

“Go ahead, super Mario looking mother fucker. Shit don’t faze me. All I’m saying is, your salty ass wife and daughter need to bounce. This ain’t their place, they are trespassing.”

Erik Shrugs, “so what’s it gonna be? Cuz y’all getting too comfortable.”

The woman and her husband share looks while Andrea watches from the door with a sour expression.

“...Becky, lets go.”

The mention of her name made Y/N laugh. Erik had to nudge her shoulder to stop her before he broke out into a fit. He needed to keep it serious if these people were to leave. Finally.

“No! No Robert!” She was on the verge of tears.

“Becky...we have to close up shop. Plus, let’s not get involved with these types of people. You don’t know what they are capable of. One of them has a damn stick dont be surprised if they don’t have a gun.”

His words cut deeply. He knew what he was doing saying that. Erik’s eyes squinted at the man, his jaw clenched tightly. He was trying his hardest to keep his cool after that purposeful comment. He wanted to provoke them so they could give him a reason to call the police or continue to stereotype them.

“FINE!!!” She throws the record down, the sound of it breaking catching all of their attention. Without a care, she turns, pushing past Robert and her daughter to leave. Robert gives Erik and the others one final look before leaving himself, stepping on the record with a stomp before exiting. Layla, Erik, and Y/N watch the doors close, all of them collectively sighing before shaking their heads.

“Some bullshit,” Layla says, “makes me wanna follow them and beat their ass.

“AINT worth it, shorty,” Erik says with an exhausting voice, “they gone, let them go back to that funky ass store and continue to hate on Y/N.”

Erik pulls Y/N in for a tight hug, “I don’t play with that shit. Fucking with my girl like that. Mad she flexing on y’all.”

Y/N allowed herself to smell Erik. He smelled just as tantalizing as he always did. He was so warm and big, big in a protective way. She loved the fact that she could feel every single muscle through his thick layer of clothes. His lips pressed into her forehead.

“You knew I had to stop by before I headed home, girl,” Erik pulls away from her, looking from the stick he gifted her to her pretty face. He never got the courage to ask her on a date but Erik knew she was feeling him just as much as he was.

“I was wondering when you would come by,” she looks away shyly, “thanks for sticking up for me, you didn’t have to.”

“What I just say?” Erik arches a single brow. Y/N licks her lips nervously.

“You hear me talking to you?” He grabs both sides of her face, making her look up at him.

“No body. Messes with. My girl.”

His words cut deeply like a sharp knife. She could feel it sinking deeply within her veins. His girl. That’s what he referred to her as.

“Okay...” she was being timid. Erik laughs, his hands on her waist.

“You got them books I wanted? The Malcom X ones?”

Y/N knew Erik could buy them online but he wanted to be near her. She fought to squeal about that.

“Yeah, I saved them just for you.”

“Good, show me.”

[dlwritings]

Baby Moron | Steve Harrington

masterlist found here

pairing - Steve Harrington x pregnant!reader word count - 2,947 warnings - Stranger Things 3 spoilers A/N - this is for the anon who requested it AGES ago and @probablynotfinnwolfhard @linkispink1995 @exquisitebts and the anon who voted for this!

summary - You and Steve were in love, and all he wanted was to protect you- and that was before he found out you were pregnant. And now, trapped with the Russians and drugged out of his mind, Steve wouldn’t let a thing happen to you.

At 18, your life was not exactly going to plan. You did not plan to get pregnant, get kicked out of your parents’ house, and start living paycheck to paycheck with Steve Harrington.

You and Steve had been dating for a little over a year when you got pregnant. You were just glad he didn’t abandon you. You could deal with your parents disowning you as long as you had Steve.

And the two of you weren’t in this alone either. Steve still lived at home, and you had moved in with Hopper and El. It was challenging at times, but you were just glad you had the support of your friends.

You were searching for a job, but you kept coming up short. Steve’s job at Scoops Ahoy didn’t exactly provide you both with enough money to eventually support a child. You were so grateful that Hopper fed you and let you live with him for free, but you couldn’t mooch off of him forever. You needed a house of your own and a crib for a baby and formula and diapers and toys and clothes and more and more and more. Minimum wage from an ice cream parlor would not pay for that.

Still, you were grateful for Steve. He could’ve run away when he found out you were pregnant, but he didn’t.

You were about two weeks late on your period. You had been feeling increasingly nauseous. You were crabby and tired and irritable- all more so than usual. You went to the drug store and bought a pregnancy test as nonchalantly as you could, your eyes constantly on the lookout for someone you knew. Luckily, your parents weren’t home, so you burst into your house and headed straight to the bathroom.

The few minutes that it took for the test to show the results were agonizing. You searched the kitchen cupboards for a timer and set it, then paced back and forth in the bathroom. You chewed on your thumbnail the whole time. You weren’t ready to be a mother. You and Steve weren’t ready for those responsibilities. Steve. Steve wouldn’t stick around, that was for sure. What would you do without him? How would you do this without him?

The timer went off, and you snatched up the pregnancy test.

Positive.

You sunk to the ground, leaning your back against the cabinet and burst into tears. You couldn’t let go of the pregnancy test. Maybe if you squeezed it tightly enough, you could change your fate.

You loved kids, but you weren’t ready to have one. Hell, you felt like you were still one yourself.

You knew having an abortion was an option, but the idea of that scared you more than actually having the baby. It wasn’t that you were morally against abortions, it was just that, now that you were in a situation where you could actually get one, you weren’t sure you could do it.

If you weren’t 100% sure, you knew that option was out the window.

The next step, you knew, was to tell Steve. You had to do it right away, because the longer you put it off, the less likely you would be to do it until it was awkwardly late. You called Steve, trying to sound as calm as you could, and told him to come over. As soon as you opened your front door, he could tell something was wrong. He could see it in your eyes. You walked with him into the living room and sat down beside him. He tried to reach out for your hand, but you pulled away.

Steve thought you were breaking up with him. He started racking his brain, trying to think of what he had done. He was already ready with a hundred apologies for anything that came to mind.

“I’m pregnant.”

Okay. He was not ready for that.

“You, you’re, what did you say?”

You took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant, Steve.” He didn’t say anything and wasn’t even looking at you. You expected this, but it still hurt. “I’m so sorry, Steve. Maybe I forgot to take my birth control? I don’t know. I’m so, so sorry.” He still didn’t say anything, and his eyes were still on the floor. “Please say something.”

Steve heard the crack in your voice and finally looked up. He had tears in his eyes, but he didn’t look mad. Your heart felt a little more at ease. “You’re keeping it, right?” he asked. You nodded, and he sniffed. “I’m gonna be a dad?” He didn’t sound angry. Maybe a little scared, but not angry. A tear fell from your eye as you nodded.

“Yeah,” you said. “But you don’t have to, like, support-”

“Whoa, hey, what are you talking about?” he said. You finally let him hold your hands in his. “I’m going to support you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“No,” Steve said, wiping a tear from your cheek. “No, of course not. I love you. And now we’re having a baby?” He laughed. “This is, it’s nuts. It’s not exactly how I expected our lives to go.”

“I know,” you said, feeling your lower lip quiver. 

“But I love you,” he said again. “And I’m totally ready to go down this road with you.”

“What if I can’t do it?” you asked with a sniff.

“You can do it,” he said. “Cuz you’re not gonna be alone, okay?”

“I’m gonna go crazy,” you said, putting your forehead in your hands. “I’m gonna turn into a crazy pregnant lady.”

Steve laughed again. “If you go crazy, we’ll go crazy together.”

Steve got a job at Scoops Ahoy right after that. Now, a little over two months later, he hated it. Not because it was a particularly bad job, but because he was an 18-year-old soon-to-be dad wearing a sailor uniform serving ice cream to children. You deserved better than that. He hated that he couldn’t give you something better than that. You didn’t mind at all though. Mostly because Steve’s job meant you could get free ice cream.

One day, Steve told you about this crazy Russian message he, Dustin, and his coworker Robin had heard over Dustin’s radio and decoded. When he said they (along with Erica Sinclair because of her convenient and small size- good for squeezing into small spaces) were going to try and find the underground Russian base, you told him you were going with him.

“No way,” he said as soon as the words left your lips. “You’re not coming.”

“And why not?” you asked, putting your hands on your hips.

“Did you not hear what I said about the guards with guns?” he asked.

“I did,” you said.

“Okay, well then that should explain it!” he huffed, throwing his hands in the air.

“I don’t care,” you said. “I’m going with you.��

“You’re pregnant!” he shouted. You were having the fight at your house in your bedroom, but Hopper was out with Joyce and El was out with The Party. You didn’t want them to know about the pending Russian base infiltration, so you were glad they were gone.

“I’m not even three months along!” you said. “I’m already getting bored with you and Hop basically putting me under house arrest. I just want an adventure.”

“Then we can go on a road trip or something!” he said. “I’m not letting you risk your life for this.”

“If you really thought it was a life threatening journey, I don’t think you’d be letting Erica Sinclair go with you. Or Dustin for that matter.”

Steve knew he would lose the fight no matter how hard he tried. He considered telling Hopper, but that would probably get him and Dustin in trouble as well. So, he just caved.

The hardest part of you tagging along was that no one knew you were pregnant. Steve couldn’t ask you repeatedly if you were okay because the others would think he had gone crazy. All he could do was bite his tongue and let you handle yourself.

When you got in the storage room, Steve opened one of the boxes to see what was inside. The contents inside were, well-

“That’s definitely not Chinese food.”

You tried to get a closer look at the contents of the box, but Steve held out an arm to hold you back. “No,” he said sternly.

“What do you mean, no?” you sassed back.

“Just step back, okay?” he said. “This stuff could be dangerous.”

“No, not okay,” you said. “You die, I die, Steve. We’re a team.”

The others were watching your interaction, but no one took notice to the way you put your hand over your stomach. Steve, however, did.

When the elevator fell to the ground floor, you toppled over amongst a pile of boxes. Steve jumped to action as soon as the elevator stopped moving. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” you said, pushing yourself off the ground. “In fact, I’m great now that I know that Russians can’t design elevators!” Steve put his arm around you, pulling you close to his side and kissing the top of your head.

There were a few fleeting moments where you thought you were going to be okay. You made it out of the elevator, Steve won the fight against the Russian, and you found what was happening at the base. Sure, finding another gate wasn’t exactly a win, but you at least now had something to tell Hopper or some other authority about once you got out. But then, you didn’t get out.

At least you, Steve, and Robin didn’t get out.

The Russians split the three of you up to interrogate you individually. “Steve!” you screamed as they dragged you away from him.

“Don’t touch her!” Steve shouted. “I swear to God, don’t touch her!”

When the door between the two of you closed, you felt utterly defeated. They tied your arms behind your back, and one of the Russians tilted your head up to look at him. “Who do you work for?” he asked, his accent thick.

“I don’t work for anyone,” you whimpered. “Steve and Robin work for Scoops Ahoy. I swear, we didn’t mean to come here.”

The Russian slapped you across the face.

This was not going to end well.

They eventually brought you back into the room with Steve, and Robin was there too. “Steve,” you cried, trying to walk over to him. The Russians held you back though, walking you where they wanted you to go. They sat you on a chair so that you, Steve, and Robin were making a triangle shape with your chairs. Steve was unconscious, and Robin was fighting against her restraints. “What did you do to him?” you sobbed.

“Your friend needs a doctor,” the Russian said. “Good thing we have the very best.”

You were trying to keep your chill. You were jealous of Robin who was acting so strong. Granted you tried to cut yourself some slack. Pregnancy hormones and all.

“He’ll be okay,” Robin told you, trying to reach for your hand. You felt her fingers graze yours, and you let out a sigh. Robin started screaming for help, and you focused on not breaking down into sobs again.

“Hey, would you stop yelling?”

Both you and Robin breathed out sighs of relief when Steve woke up. “Are you okay?” you asked him.

“I’m fine,” he said. “How’re you? Are you hurt? Did they hit your-”

“I’m fine,” you said, cutting Steve off. “I just want to get out of here and go home.”

The three of you tried to bounce your chairs over to a table where you saw a pair of scissors, but you all fell to the ground. Your broke apart from each other, but you were all still tied to your respective chairs. “Great,” you mumbled. “I’m gonna die in an underground Russian base.”

“We’re not gonna die,” Robin said.

“At least I don’t have to worry about my parents giving a shit,” you said. “Since, you know, they don’t speak to me anymore.”

“Stop talking like that,” Steve said. “We’re all gonna make it out of this, okay?”

When the Russians came back, planning to inject all three of you with some drug, Steve protested as much as he could. “Don’t give her any!” he said, pulling at his restraints to try and get to you. “Don’t give either of them any! Stop!”

They, as expected, ignored him and shot you all in the neck. It didn’t take long for the drugs to come into effect, even though the three of you didn’t think anything was happening. When the Russians came back, you, Steve, and Robin were in a fit of giggles. “Who do you work for?” the Russian asked.

“Scoops,” Steve said. He snickered. “Scoops Ahoy.” The three of you laughed. “Except (Y/N).”

“No, I don’t work there,” you said, shaking your head.

“She’s just my girlfriend,” Steve said. “My girlfriend carrying my little baby.”

“Baby?” Robin repeated.

“Oh my god,” you said, your eyes growing wide. You started to giggle. “We haven’t told anyone except our parents.” You looked at the Russians. “How about that? You guys are part of our journey.” You looked down at your belly. “Hear that little person? These crazy Russians know you’re in there.”

“You’re pregnant?” Robin said. “Congratulations! That’s awesome.”

“We’re gonna name it Moron,” you said. “After these stupid Russians.” You all burst out laughing until the Russian man pulled out some sort of weapon and pointed it at your head. “Ooo, that’s shiny,” you said. “What’re you gonna do with that?” You looked down at your belly again. “What do you think they’re gonna do little baby? Good things or bad things?”

“Soon there will be no little baby for you to talk to,” the Russian said. What they were about to do clicked to Steve before it clicked to you and Robin at all.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no, wait, stop!” Steve shouted. “Stop, stop, don’t hurt her!” He hesitated for less than a second. “There was a code!” he said. “We heard a code!”

And just like that, Steve confessed everything. Just as quickly, Dustin and Erica came to the rescue. You all stumbled along, rushing out of the base. “Guys,” you said to Dustin and Erica. “I’m pregnant. Did you know that? Stevie boy knocked me up!”

“Is she serious?” Erica asked Dustin. He shrugged, still looking around trying to figure out what to do.

“I’m serious!” you said. You lifted up your shirt, trying to show off your barely existent baby bump. “It looks like a food baby, but it’s a real baby! Little baby Moron.”

“Baby Moron?” Erica repeated.

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Come on. We need to hide them.”

You, Steve, and Robin sat in a movie theater, munching on popcorn while Dustin and Erica tried to figure out what to do next. But when the three of you started to feel sick, you rushed out of the theater and to the nearest bathroom, puking up all the drugs in your system. “Fuck,” you mumbled, leaning your back against the stall door. “Are you guys okay?” you asked Steve and Robin.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked.

“‘M fine,” you mumbled, pressing your hand to your forehead. Steve slid under the stall and joined you in yours.

“How’s the little one?” he asked, pressing his hand to your stomach.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “I think we’re both okay.”

“You really are pregnant, huh?” Robin said from her stall.

You laughed lightly. “Yeah. Yeah I am.”

Slowly but surely, the three of you completely came down from your high. Robin ended up telling you both that she was a lesbian which resulted in the three of you hugging on the bathroom floor. That was how Dustin and Erica found you.

When you all found your way to the others, Steve pulled you aside. “I want you to go home,” he said.

“What?”

“Go back to Hopper’s,” he told you. “It’s safer there. I’ll come to you when this is all over.”

“You’re kidding right now, right?” you said.

“(Y/N), please don’t argue with me,” he said.

“I’m not leaving you, Steve!”

“I can’t lose you both!” he shouted. The others turned to look at the two of you, but neither of you batted an eye. Your face dropped as Steve’s eyes filled with tears. “Alright? I can’t lose you both. I need you to keep yourself safe and-” He cut himself off by laying a hand on your stomach.

Those who didn’t know of your pregnancy -Max, Lucas, Mike, Will, Joyce, Jonathan, and Nancy- looked at those who did -Hopper, El, Dustin, Robin, and Erica- with wide eyes. The others gave awkward smiles like kids caught keeping a secret from their parents.

Again, you and Steve were oblivious.

“Steve,” you whispered, laying your hands on his cheeks. “I’m not leaving you, okay? You die, I die, remember?”

“Please-”

“I won’t raise a child in a world you’re not in,” you said. “End of discussion. So-” You turned back to the group. “-we’re all going to make sure that doesn’t happen, right? We’re gonna win this.”

Seven months later, you gave birth to James “Jim” (Y/L/N)-Harrington, a healthy baby boy weighing in at seven pounds, eight ounces and measuring 20-inches long. Steve was by your side, Hopper was in your heart, your friends were in the waiting room, and a shiny diamond ring was on your finger.

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

TAGLIST

@bangtan-serendipity | @planetdemon | @the-singing-clown406 | @tomshufflepuff | @bluelalal | @grandloser | @jackiehollanderr | @mindset-jupiter | @bisexual-sk8r | @feel-like-gold | @runaway-apple | @miraclesoflove |  @toniinhere

[edgydepressedchoicesthot]

Act of Courage (Noah/MC, Lucas/MC)

Summary: It shouldn’t feel like this, after all this time. We won, didn’t we?

No, Josh realized. We didn’t.

In which a survivor contemplates what was, what is, and what could have been.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061654

@ladyseaheart1668, @marmolady, @it-lives-in-westchester

A/N: Between work, college, and my f*cked up head, finishing this up took a lot longer than it should have. I'm trying to make writing into my coping mechanism, so that I'll do it more, lol ;D

I have one more fic I promised on tumblr, an AME one I'm gonna work on. I'm also gonna try to go back to my ES novelization, so stay tuned for that for its continuation.

————————

The two of them were at Josh’s place, waiting for Ava, Andy, Dan, and Lucas. Lily was sick in bed and Stacy was visiting her grandma out of town, leaving Noah and Josh waiting for the four others while they drew figures in the dirt in the yard with sticks and talking about anything their minds jumped to.

“Hey, Noah?”

The boy turned towards his friend.

“Yeah?”

For a moment, Josh, who was as lively as ever seconds ago, was being uncharacteristically quiet.

“Do you…like anyone?”

“‘Like’,” Noah repeated. “Like I like you and Jane and the others? Or you mean like-like?”

“Um, yeah” Josh nodded, blushing. “Like-like.”

“Then no,” the other boy shrugged. “Stacy, Lily, and Ava are fun to hang around, but I don’t like-like anyone.”

“What about,” Josh began hurriedly, but slowed down. “What about boys…?”

“Huh?”

“Do you like-like any boys?”

Josh was beet red. Noah was just confused.

“No,” he shrugged. “I’m a boy. It’d be weird if I liked-liked a boy. That’s what my mom says though.”

“Right…” Josh looked hurt. “Right, forget it.”

Noah wanted to ask why his friend looked so sad.

He hated it when Josh got upset. Unlike Jane, who’d get mad, Josh would be quiet, pouty, and would go off by himself, refusing to ever acknowledge what made him upset in the first place.

But before Noah can say anything, the doorbell rang and their friends poured inside.

Noah forgot that Josh even asked him any question about who he liked.

It was something they’d both forget in the years to come, a memory of the conversation fading into a small feeling.

————————

After reading Lucas’s texts, Josh shoved his phone into his pocket. His smile started to fade as he continued down the road, focusing on his surroundings.

It really is a beautiful day, Josh mused.

And he hated it.

The sun shone through the trees in a way that reminded him of an image you’d find on a tourist pamphlet.

It made Josh think about how the only thing this town is good for is being fake.

Like how the town somehow fooled themselves into thinking everything was just a freak animal attack.

But the more he thought about it, Josh guessed he couldn’t blame the town for that. Having to deal with the truth might actually be more of a clusterfuck than it all happening.

It was all a question of why.

Why did this all happen to them? Why was he the one who had to find Redfield’s shack?

All he had to do was keep his goddamn mouth shut about some stupid fucking rock floating all those years ago…

It’s my fault.

Josh scoffed.

Like that’s big news.

And when it was time to pay the piper, Josh was too much of a coward to do anything…

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Josh forced himself to think about something, anything else.

His mind wandered from the date Lucas promised they’d have before he went back to his university, to that new video game Lily’s been raving about, Stacy’s latest Pictagram post about celebrating another perfect score on an exam, Ava’s latest binge on occult books in the library, Andy whining about how he just wants to be free of high school already, Dan’s updates on his new art blog…

…Noah crying, apologizing…

Josh wiped tears from his eyes as he kept walking.

————————

Noah always envied Josh.

He was a charismatic go-getter where Noah was shy and bookish. Josh always got stickers that came with having a perfect score on spelling tests, ones that Noah just passed by never more than five points. Josh was brave enough to make the first move in befriending him and Jane, and began their circle of friends the same way.

Noah not only hated how he was too wimpy to ever say any of this out loud, but also that he held this kind of resentment towards one of the best friends he’s ever had.

Noah hated how nervous he feels around Josh too. How he can’t help but constantly compare himself to him.

Josh was like the sun; radiant and bright and impossible to miss, and Noah had felt like the grimy earth beneath it.

But everything changed after Jane died.

Their whole group of friends changed. They started to see each other less and less, and eventually, they never saw each other outside of school.

Having different classes in middle school widened the gap between them, leaving silent nods as the last bit of interaction they had.

Soon, even those were gone.

Even after they all fell apart, Noah couldn’t help but notice Josh.

Before, Noah had always seen Josh happily chatting with at least one person.

Now, Noah never saw him hang out with anyone ever again. He was like the dusty remains of a star that went out.

There were times Noah wanted to reach out, to see if they could be friends again, to hang out, laugh together, be together-

-and Noah would stop himself when he came short of any reason Josh would want to talk to him.

————————

“You look like shit.”

“Hello to you too, Ava.”

Josh was semi-thankful that his shift at one of the town’s few fast food places started early in the morning. Only a handful of people stepped in here for breakfast, and none of them were impossible to deal with. So, for a few hours, Josh could enjoy a bit of peace before the lunch rush.

And it was always good to see a friendly face.

“Alright, fuck the pleasantries then.”

Usually.

Ava stretched her hand at Josh and waved it dramatically.

“In the name of the Dread Goddess Hekate, get me my usual.”

Josh punched in the register an order for an apple pie and a milkshake.

“That’ll be $2.78.”

Wordlessly, Ava hands him money and Josh went in the back to get her order.

“Talked to Tom today,” Ava said. “He looked really interested in the stuff I found in Cora’s shack. Maybe he can be my apprentice or some shit.”

“A witch’s apprentice?”

“Turned him down. Teaching is a rock bottom I’ll never hit.”

“Cuz the teacher’s at school we sooo great.”

“You get it.”

Josh finished up, pie in a paper bag and milk in hand.

“So, you talk to people,” she asked before he held out her order. “You’re social like that. Everyone’s gonna be at the memorial tonight, right?”

“Yup,” Josh nodded. “All seven of-”

Josh stops himself, remembering what happened to the seventh.

Ava’s face went steely, and for a moment it looked like she had a lot to say.

“Hand me my order,” she sighed. Josh obliged.

Before Ava walked out, she stopped and did a half turn. Josh sees several shifts to and from anger and sympathy.

“Tale care,” she said before leaving.

————————

Noah couldn’t remember the last time he and Josh talked.

So, when Josh sat next to him at the pep rally, he hoped his quietness came off as indifference, and hid his anxiety about the whole situation.

Josh didn’t seem to mind, since he started talking semi-comfortably. He was mellower and less gloomy than he used to be, and Noah felt the familiar jealously that was always the third companion amongst the two.

The pep rally ended after the blackout, Josh called everyone to meet after school, and four of them were stocking up on makeshift weapons.

When Josh told Noah that he won’t leave him again, he let himself believe it.

Noah halfheartedly thanked Josh, and for a second was afraid his sort-of-friend would take offense.

But instead, Josh smiled at him, and Noah felt like he was looking at sunshine.

A warm feeling bloomed in Noah’s chest, and it stuck around even when they were done talking and gone back to looking for weapons.

Noah remembered the warm feeling later on, when he noticed how Josh’s face was red when he was close enough to Lucas, how he stammered a bit more when the two were talking.

Noah wasn’t as dumb as he was as a kid. He knew that Josh liked Lucas. He also didn’t want to believe he was feeling jealousy, because of what it implied.

It wasn’t until during Britney’s party that Noah started to ask himself where these feelings for Josh came from. Was it sometime after everyone drifted apart, and their absence leaving an ache in his heart? Or was it before, when they were younger, innocent, and still friends?

After the party and after Josh revived his hope for the future (something he’d been doing well the past few days), his own personal devil reared its shadowy head, and signaled the end.

In the near future, while they were all forced to play the game again, Noah would wonder if anything could have happened to keep this whole mess from happening.

If he just told Redfield to fuck off, or just ignored him (no, her).

————————

“In school,” Andy said with a mouth full of pizza. “You froze up every time you had to present something. And up there, you didn’t break a sweat.”

Josh was taken by surprise when Stacy’s mom called him up to say a few words (he didn’t even think the town’s mayor even remembered his name). Surprisingly, where there was usually quick breath and sweating, there was just emptiness.

His mind flashed to Cora when he was up, about how she risked her life to help them and went to warn them while she was injured and dying.

And then it went to Noah.

He kept his part about Noah as brief as possible, and stepped down the second he gave his last “thank you”.

Josh would like to say that Lucas’s hug and quick kiss after the memorial made him feel better, but after talking about Noah, he couldn’t shake the feeling like he was betraying him.

“I get a lot of speech practice when dealing with customers from hell,” Josh finally answered, shrugging.

“You mean Ava?” Andy snarked.

“Andy, don’t be mean,” Lily scolded

“You think I take offense to that?” Ava grinned evilly. “I go there on the weekends.”

Josh finished his Graveyard, and turned to Lucas, right next to him.

“Bartender, one more.”

“One for me too,” Stacy smirked, wiggling her empty cup.

“I think you’ve both had enough,” Lucas said in mock seriousness.

“How can you stand to drink those?” Tom asked. “I almost hurled taking a sip!”

“That’s it, you’re dead to me,” Stacy pouted theatrically.

“Aw, come on,” Lily nudged Stacy with her shoulder. “We all just pledged our eternal devotion to each other five minutes ago!”

And just managed to avoid talking about Noah…

Noah could be here. Right now.

Maybe not here though. The others might still hate him, maybe not, but at least he’d be alive. Maybe everyone would even slowly come to stop hating him.

He could find a way to pay for culinary school. He could open up the diner he talked about…

And I wish I could just stop thinking about those last moments…

Josh has vague memories of blushing and being embarrassed around Noah when they were younger, but he didn’t think it had meant anything.

Every time Josh started thinking about his...crush, if he could call it that, he’d just start thinking of Lucas, and guilt of betrayal would stab at his gut.

Josh’s eyes drift over to Dan, who’s been silent the whole time, aside from giving halfhearted laughs and accepting Graveyard refills…

…along with bringing up the one who’s been on Josh’s mind for a while.

“Well…not the whole group.”

Josh remembered that this night would end, and that everyone would go back to dealing with their trauma.

Not alone. Please for the love of god not alone.

He felt like some kind of traitor again, for feeling this awful around people with whom he should be happy.

It shouldn’t feel like this, after all this time. We won, didn’t we?

He remembered the panic attack he talked Lily through by phone after Britney called him, begging for help. He remembered Ava’s blank face as the signs of a flashback started to show. He remembered the bags under Stacy’s eyes as she drank more coffee than was healthy. He remembered the late night texts from Andy faking small talk when he couldn’t sleep and needed some anchor to reality. He remembered the way Dan finally admitted with tears that he wasn’t fine, was anything but fine.

And he remembered seeing the thing that used to be Noah in the ruins, looking back at him with those white eyes before vanishing.

No, Josh realized. We didn’t.

————————

Seconds ago, Josh had gotten Noah out of Redfield’s (no, Jane’s) control as he was seconds away from being stabbed.

He goaded and taunted the monster they all feared since childhood, and fended it off with a whistle.

So this should be easy, right?

Taking Jane’s place so she could finally be free of the hell she spent nearly a decade in.

“I’m sorry, Josh,” Noah sobbed. “Please…please tell my mom-”

“Wait!” Josh said shakily. “It doesn’t have to be you!”

“Josh, please, it had to be me,” Noah begged. “Let me do this. Let me fix my mistakes.”

“NO!” he screamed. “Don’t you dare! Let me do this! Let me take her place instead!”

Except…

Josh didn’t say any of that.

He wanted to stop Noah, he wanted to so much, but no matter what, his throat wouldn’t obey.

When it mattered the most, all he could give is silence.

If the two of them were any closer, their faces would touch. Unfallen tears pooled in Noah’s eyes, filled with regret

Josh didn’t know what to do. He wanted to scream at Noah. He wanted to hug him and never let go. He wanted to punch him.

But Noah acted before Josh could.

His lips weren’t soft, but warm and gentle, and soon turn salty when tears hit their lips. Neither of them knew whose.

“I’m sorry,” Josh lost count of the number of times Noah’s apologized today. “I just…I needed to do that. Just once…”

Those are the last words Noah ever said as a human.

————————

The night ended with everyone promising to see each other tomorrow, and soon after that.

And so, here were Josh and Lucas, waiting together on a bench on the sidewalk for Josh’s mom to come pick them up and give Lucas a ride to his house.

Despite everyone parting with the unspoken promise of this goodbye isn’t for good, Josh couldn’t help that irrational fear that the opposite would be true, and they’d all fall apart over again.

“You good?” Lucas pulled Josh out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” he mumbled dumbly.

“You’re squeezing my hand pretty hard there,” Lucas shakes his hand holding Josh’s, and he finds out he’s right; Josh is squeezing Lucas’s hand like some kind of lifeline.

“Sorry,” Josh says sheepishly as he eases his grip, but Lucas gives a gentle squeeze, keeping him from pulling away.

“Hey, you’re alright,” Lucas says before Josh can apologize any more.

Josh smiled at him, not trusting himself to speak right now. Unfortunately, it just gave way to an awkward silence.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Lucas asks.

“What…” do you mean, Josh wanted to say, but he just didn’t have the heart to lie to his boyfriend’s face.

“I know,” Josh sighed.

And he did. But that was a different story than being able to do it.

“I’m here for you. So is everyone else. And if something’s been on your mind, we’d all listen if you wanted to talk.”

Josh wanted to.

He probably needed to.

Josh remembered Dan, how he desperately needed someone to talk to, how he needed help, and what happened after he didn’t get it (it wasn’t his fault, it was mine).

But what could he possibly say?

Is it okay for me to have lingering feelings for someone else? Someone who betrayed us and led us to a monster? Someone who’s a monster now himself? Someone almost all of you understandably hate?

There’s no way he can bring that up. Not to his friends, not to his boyfriend.

“I don’t wanna talk,” Josh sighs. “Could we just…be here…? If that makes any sense?”

“It doesn’t,” Lucas jokes. “But it’s a good thing I’m a mind reader.”

Lucas put an arm around Josh, pulling him closer.

Josh rested his head on Lucas’s shoulder and closed his eyes, enjoying his boyfriend’s presence.

In the future, when Josh finally found it in him to talk, he’d be able to go back to the cabin. Against all advice, he’d look for Noah in the shadowy figure that haunted the woods. And he’d find him. And soon after, Josh would be able to help more people who were forced into a world of monsters like he and his friends were.

[morphituu]

Milagro

Chapter 15: Omens

Ch: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14

Callie’s brows furrowed in bewilderment when Nick’s hand cupped beneath her fist to catch the muffin wrapper, quickly tossing it away before speeding back to help pull her sweater up her arms.

“Why?” she only asked, blinking up at him in confusion while he went so far as to help pull her beanie down her cheeks.

“You heard the doctor,” he snipped, not even bothering to shield his own scalp from the rain as he kept the umbrella clear over her and only half over his lumbering frame.

“Rain isn’t pitocin,” she sassed, taking control of the handle to make sure he wasn’t pelted by the persistent rain.

“I’m not taking any chances,”

“You do realize that sex is what’ll make everything start moving, right?” she teased with a lopsided grin. Nick’s pointed ears twitched when the displeasure of such a realization rooted into his mind.

“I guess we’ll have to cut back,”

“Oh shut up, like we could,” she smirked up at him. “You really wanna stop fucking like we did last night?”

Nick flushed at the recollection of the evening; the way they were both left breathless, shouting each others names into the early AM hours. How she unwound the tight coil at his center, her loving gaze keeping him in suspension as she witnessed him unfold, smiling against his open mouth that howled her name.

“Okay come back down to Earth,” she patted the back of his hand clutched in her hold a few times, giggling when he nodded languidly but clearly was still wandering through his thoughts as he sauntered on.

“We should try that position again,” he said below his breath after opening the passenger side door of the truck and helping her climb in. She snorted as she clicked her Chucks together to shake off the water and gravel.

“That’s the only position I can do anymore,” she scoffed, wiggling around until she found her spot with the seat reclined a little farther.

Nick shrugged; I don’t have a problem with that.

When he’d rounded the truck and stuffed the umbrella in the side compartment, Callie was already setting her shoes in the back and grabbing for her heels and stockings with the heater on blast, the final touches of her outfit coming together before she went in for work.

“You’re gonna snap an ankle on those things,” he mumbled, his repulsion towards the tortuous footwear evident in his tone.

“Maybe, but damn if they don’t make my fat legs look better,” she struggled to lift a heel onto the dash and show the definition of her calf.

Nick neither agreed or disagreed; he knew better than to fall into that trap again.

Her phone vibrated loudly in the center console, and she hissed a low curse trying to finish inching her stockings up her thigh and under her tight pencil skirt in time to grab the phone.

“Hey Rose,” she exhaled, pinning the phone between her shoulder and cheek while she worked on the next leg. “Yeah we just left,”

Nick listened quietly, twisting through the wet streets leading away from the clinic nestled behind luxurious townhomes and sprawling businesses with equally extravagant day goers cluttering the slick sidewalks. The glossy streets reminded him of the tune-up the truck needed, more urgently the changing of the tires it was due for. Preferably before Leo joins us. He glanced through the rearview mirror at the carseat still perched neatly behind them; he gripped the steering wheel tighter, containing a wide smile.

“Three centimeters already,” Callie smiled, but it quickly vanished. “No- centimeters, not meters,”

Nick snorted.

“No they still say the 21st,” she grunted, finally finished and pulling her skirt down her thighs. With a hard exhale, she let her head bounce back against the seat and her legs spread and stretch to relieve the pressure on her lower stomach. Now Nick could finally snake his hand under her arm and caress her stomach, drumming where Leo kicked in protest of his mother squishing him. “I doubt it, he’s still head down. Yeah. Uh-huh. Today?” she looked at Nick, holding the phone against her chest. “Are we doing anything today?”

Nick shook his head, only half sure; are we?

“Yeah I can but I need to go home first cuz there’s no way in hell I’m walking around in these heels,” Callie returned to her call, pulling her lipstick from her purse and pulling down the visor. “Yeah just pick me up from the house when you’re ready,”

“I need more lotion!” Nick whispered, snapping his jaws when she shooed him away.

“Okay pues I’ll see you then. Ah-huh, bye gurl bye.” Callie dropped the phone into her lap, finishing with the lip stain. “Rosie’s gonna take me to do the gift registry for the shower,”

“Oh get everything I wishlisted on Amazon, especially that bottle set,” Nick piped, glancing at her excitedly.

“No one’s gonna buy us that, baby, it’s expensive,” she again reminded, and pouted compassionately when his spirits dropped a little bit. “He’s gonna be attached to my boob anyways,”

Nick grumbled a little bit. “Add the sling then?”

“Of course,” she smiled, patting his molted hand. “That’s more doable than a fifty dollar bottle set,”

He grumbled again. “You never know...”

“Uh-huh,” she teased, giggling when he dug his fingers into her belly. Once she’d finished the last touch-ups of her makeup and fluffing her hair around her shoulders, she could recline into the seat and relax the remainder of the drive across town through the winding hills, and listen to the rain pattering against the roof of the car with the radio drifting softly around them.

Her eyes drifted down when Leo tapped insistently under her own palm, cracking the smallest of smiles when she followed the gentle nudges.

“I can’t believe there’s only a month left,” she cooed, her thumb stroking the rough skin of his hand.

“Mom told me the last month takes the longest to go by,”

“Yeah my mom told me that too,” she agreed, watching Nick’s fingers roll when Leo spun. “God I’m only gonna get bigger,”

“He’s gonna get bigger,”

“And I am gonna get chubbier,”

“More ass to bite into,” Nick smiled, clicking his sharp teeth together a few times when Callie glared at him.

“Lookin’ for a new spot, huh?”

“Always, but I’ll wait ‘til after we’re married. Bite into the spot,” he explained smugly, his vague detailing making her eyes narrow.

“Don’t know if I wanna marry knowing I’m literally gonna be bitten on the ass for it,”

“No way out of it now- Orcs mate for life. This finger is mine,” he sang, her ring finger in his hold and wiggling her hand. “Gonna have my baby and my last name,” he boasted, shoulders shimmying in the seat as he turned into the parking lot before the bank.

“Fine, you can have all that as long as I get to swim in that police pension,” she countered cheekily, shoving her makeup pouches back into her purse.

“Ha, have fun waiting another twenty years,”

She smirked, her lips pursing as he grinned. “Deal. I’m off at 2,” she caved, leaning over the center console to meet his lips for a series of loving kisses. The crook of her hand held under his jaw, igniting a small chuff; getting him going before work was one of her favorite past times.

“No heavy lifting,” he got in between. “Boss people around,”

“Like I need to be told that,” a final kiss was placed on his cheek, his hand rounding her stomach before she pushed the door open and slid down the seat.

“I love you- don’t do anything strenuous!” He called, sticking his head out the window.

“I love you too!” She smiled, waddling towards the entrance and thanking the security guard who opened the door for her.

Nick shook his head, shifting the truck into reverse. “Stubborn brat.”

He only felt a tad bit guilty stopping at a Taco Bell; it wasn’t only for him, but for Sergey too. It was his first day back after a bumpy recovery that had extended twice when the ‘burns’ across his chest didn’t heal as expected, but that itself was expected after being bludgeoned by a spell. Nothing heals right when magic is involved.

Nick pulled up to the first window, digging through his wallet for cash when the worker at the window exclaimed.

“Where’s your wife?” asked the stout older woman he’d met at the window nearly all of the times visiting this particular chain with Callie beside him.

Her aged smile was kind, but the interaction still made Nick edgy.

“At home waiting for the food,” he lied through a stiff smile. He’d once made the mistake of telling someone at work that Callie still worked so late into her unpredictable pregnancy, and he’d been dealt a harsh reprimand from an officer he barely knew, at that, scolding Nick about letting his lover work when he should’ve been bringing in enough money to support them both.

Nick avoided that officer from then on; no longer would he acknowledge his presence when they were near.

Don’t tell me how to handle my life, he recalled wanting to shout. Besides, Callie would fucking castrate me if I tried forcing her to stay home.

“Ah, such a good man going for his lady,” she admired, quickly finishing his purchase. “See you later than, ah?”

“Yeah- thank you!” Nick replied awkwardly, quickly collecting his card and rolling to the next window. He exhaled, hopeful the other worker at the next window didn’t recognize him.

With the food collected and another awkward encounter avoided, he quickly exited the plaza to start his small trek across town, caving into his hunger and chowing down on a burrito before he made it halfway to Sergey’s. It was unfortunate that he’d be returning on such a gloomy day, but Nick was determined to make his transition back into their high-stress- and high harassment- job as smooth as possible, and starting the day with one of his favorite meals seemed to be a good start.

Entering the Orc predominant neighborhood Sergey resided in didn’t bring Nick as much heat as it once did; he could shoulder a few glares if the majority of his interactions were kind. Munguz carried a lighter air to it now, and he was thankful. Nick wanted his presence amongst the Orkish community to be neutral at best before Leo made his debut, and knowing the hardships halflings grew up with meant Orcs were his best bet at fitting in.

Nick sighed, bridling the troubling thoughts. Worry about that when it comes.

By the time he parked neatly along the narrow street, he spotted Sergey standing in the doorway of his small cottage, his frown as telling as his slumped shoulders and holding a mug that steam danced from in the chilled afternoon. Before he exited the truck, he reached over to pop open his glove box and retrieve one of the invites Rosie had made for Callie’s shower Nick had been handing out very meticulously.

Sergey watched Nick make his way across the street, his spirits admittedly lifting a little when he spotted the paper bag in hand.

“Did you just wake up?” Nick grinned, and Sergey nodded.

“Couldn’t sleep much last night,” he confessed, tilting the mug to watch the creamy tea swirl.

Nick felt unsure of himself once he stood before his young partner. “You’re not ready to go back, are you?”

Sergey shrugged, looking back out across his yard. “S’not that. Just nervous,”

“I know the feeling,” Nick affirmed, handing off the food.

“Aw, you remembered my order?” Sergey keened, and Nick’s eyes rolled, following him inside.

It was a welcome relief to step into the warm home, the scent of the Orchid tea drifting through the home that was dimly lit and tidy. Dura decision to pursue homemaking had really tapped into her creative side, and upon observing how much he liked the colored walls and small decorative pieces, he considered asking her to help him with the make-over his home desperately needed. Neither him or Callie were very good at mixing and matching.

“Ah, Nick! It’s good to see you!” Dura exclaimed, popping out from the kitchen and pattering over to him for a hug.

As he leaned down to get his arms around her, he had to remind himself that even though Callie was growing fast, Orcs grew even faster during pregnancy. The poor girl was already waddling, her stomach popping out much farther than a human would expect at 11 weeks along.

“How’re you feeling?” Nick pressed, holding her hands when she’d straightened back out.

“I’m doing good, just trying to keep up with this little girl,” she smiled, holding her round stomach.

Nick’s ears twitched. “You guys are having a girl?” he turned to Sergey, meeting his smug grin. Nick had brandished that same smile countless times before while going on and on about Leo, so he let him live it up. It was definitely something to be proud of.

“Speaking of babies,” Nick remembered, pulling the invite from his back pocket and handing it to Dura.

“Oh this is so cute!” Dura whined, her fingers tracing gently over the designs and raised stickers of the invite. “Callie wasn’t upset you chose an Orkish design?”

Nick shook his head. “She doesn’t like the whole ‘Leo lion’ thing,”

“Yeah it’s kinda mayonnaise,” she teased, carefully pinning it up on the bulletin board above the corner that housed her working computer. “How’s she been doing?”

“Good, good- today is her last day at work,”

Dura scoffed. “Just now going on leave, ah?”

“She gets restless easily,” Nick shrugged.

“I’m surprised her little legs keep up carrying that belly around,” Sergey voiced, and Nick nodded in agreement. “How about you, old man? Ready to be a dad?”

“Just counting down the days at this point,” he responded calmly with his palms rubbing together, but beneath the surface he was containing an excitement that made him feel like he could run the diameter of the world twice.

“When he’s screaming all night you’re gonna wanna go back and rethink those words,” Dura countered playfully.

“I guess we’ll see then,” he bumped Sergey’s arm as he’d began to chow down on a taco. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he mumbled through a mouthful, his slides already on and moving past Nick towards Dura.

She keened over Sergey adoringly, his thin face held in her hands and nodding at her persistent questioning while he rubbed the side of her stomach, eventually leaning in for a tight hug. Dura looked to be more reluctant about his departure than Sergey himself did, but that was expected. Callie had been the same way his first day back after his attack.

“Nauk-avurn votar avo avhiuk liavavle ni, ah?” she ordered gently, smoothing her hands across his head once more before exchanging a few kisses.

“Jiak'll alwayuk nauk-avurn avo mausan girluk,” Sergey grinned, bringing forth a dazzling smile from Dura.

Once more she hugged him, her arms tight around his neck and committing the moment to memory, more fearful than before that her husband wouldn’t return.

“Keep an eye on him,” she told Nick once separating from Sergey and walking them to the door.

“Won’t let him out of my sight.” He winked, patting her arm before following his partner back into the chilled afternoon.

The officers hunched through the small onslaught of rain, already wishing they were in their own homes and avoiding the miserable weather when they climbed into the cold truck.

“What if the rain is a bad omen?” Sergey mumbled, pulling out his next taco.

“If rain was a bad omen I wouldn’t even be with Callie,” Nick argued, and although Sergey’s mouth opened many times to argue, he ultimately kept silent, thinking over his words critically. Surely he didn’t know the true meaning behind that, but if it distracted him from the dread he was surely feeling, Nick would keep quiet and let him work it out.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Ehh, I still get sore sometimes, muscle spasms. I hope we’re not expecting to chase anyone down today,”

“I’ll do the chasing, your aim is better anyways,” Nick cracked.

“I’ll take the next chase,” he sighed.

Nick glanced at him as he navigated the narrow road and rain. “What’s up?”

Sergey shook his head. “We can’t talk about it,”

Ahh. “Still have questions?”

“About a million,”

“You know, you can always go and request a meeting with Kandomere. We can’t openly talk about it but you can-”

“I have. Four times,” he exhaled. “I keep getting rescheduled,”

“Keep at it. MTF is worse than the IRS,”

“I don’t know if they’ll even give me the answers I want. If they’re not even willing to talk then what’s the point,” he grumbled, nearly popping a sauce packet all over Nick’s truck as he angrily tore it with his sharp teeth.

Nick ran his tongue over his clipped tusks as he pondered. This could end badly. “What do you wanna know?”

Sergey looked at him as he chewed, his hairless brows furrowing. “Huh?”

Nick nodded encouragingly, silently bolstering him.

Sergey tucked his food away, turning his shoulders to better face Nick.

“Why was she there?” he asked first, and Nick glanced at his rearview mirror, counting down the seconds until the sirens came up behind them.

“She needed another Bright’s help to take down the one following her,”

“You’re a Bright!?” he yelled, but Nick hushed him despite knowing no pedestrians or drivers could possibly hear them.

So he shook his head, and when Sergey mouthed ‘Ward’ in question, his brilliant eyes widened. “He is!?” he hissed.

“She couldn’t find him so she found me,”

“How did she know you two?” he pressed, and Nick sighed, glancing at his mirrors again, but there was no flashes of red and blue trailing them.

“Years ago there was a similar incident she was involved in, that’s all I can tell you about that, but, just like this time she dragged us into some shit,” Nick detailed sparsely, but Sergey didn’t seem to be too up in arms over the vagueness.

“So me being there was completely coincidental?” Sergey mumbled sullenly, and Nick nodded.

“No one was ever meant to know, not even Callie,”

The younger Orc nodded, shifting back to face forward. They were approaching the precinct when Sergey huffed angrily, pulling Nick’s attention from the officer he gestured to at the front entrance.

“Here I thought I was chosen to be a part of something cool and all it was was coincidence- fuck that,” he rattled off hotly, gathering his food before he zipped up his hoodie and pulled his hood over his head. “That’s bullshit,”

Nick snorted softly. “You saved people from an explosion, remember? That’s pretty cool,”

“Oh yeah I’m a badass now,” he chuffed, opening the door a little viciously. Nick stifled most of his chuckle as they made their way through the parking lot and into the building, and it was Nick’s first relief when most of the officers who passed Sergey welcomed him warmly. There was always the few who either turned cheek or made a remark under their breath, but it was easy to block those unwarranted comments and steer him towards the locker rooms.

“That wasn’t what I was expecting,” Sergey admitted below his breath as they at last made it into the locker rooms.

Nick still gave Daryl’s former locker a glance every time he passed it, but the heartache that was significant the first day he’d not been to work after his early retirement was gone, and he could now recall the good days they had together on shared routes.

Nick opened his own, always fixing the photobooth strip that was surrounded by numerous photos of him and Callie, a few of Pucca and his parents, and a whole corner filled with only ultrasounds of Leo that he taped in order, from the very first wiggling blob of a heartbeat to the perfect cinnamon roll he already was.

Now Sergey could tape up his own of… wait a minute.

“Do you two have a name picked out?” Nick asked, bumping his arm.

“Mariak,” Sergey grinned. “It means ‘my beloved’,”

Being that Sergey was normally such a goofy person even when he had Dura around, it bewildered Nick to some extent to see him so smitten over his little girl, but Nick was also sure that if anyone from work witnessed how he himself acted around Callie and often had full conversations with her stomach, they’d be shocked to see his usual stoic demeanor so… mushy.

“It already sounds like it suits her,” Nick clapped him on the back, grinning when Sergey beamed proudly.

Small conversation passed between the Orcs as they changed, and just as Nick’s kevlar vest had been loose upon returning from his recovery, so was Sergey’s, but the men’s attention was pulled from his fittings when a fellow officer walked behind them, snorting in the direction of their open lockers.

“Is it part of clan law to have kids at the same time?” The heavier set officer mocked, walking by with his utility belt thrown over his shoulder.

Nick was ready to ignore the remark like so many others he’d brushed off, but out of the corner of his eye he spotted Sergey spinning quickly, and Nick immediately recognized the same protective fury he’d been forced to learn how to harness early on.

“Fuck you Andrews,” Sergey spat, Nick’s hand coming to his chest to bring him back a few steps.

“Oh calm the fuck down you grunter, it was a fuckin’ joke,” Andrews laughed, as if the slur meant nothing on top of his first jab.

Sergey pushed again, but Nick pushed harder.

“Keep your head on your shoulders, Malinka,” he ordered below his breath.

“They get to-”

“But they can use more against us than we can against them,” Nick said through a clenched jaw.

Nick got it- he really did. Letting go of any kind of insult in his childs direction was like chewing glass, but even if this one time was taken care of, it wouldn’t stop the others increased efforts to bring them down if the Orcs were known to snitch.

Sergey huffed unwillingly, pushing Nick’s hand away harshly to turn back to his locker.

Nick glanced at Andrews, the men exchanging differing expressions that said all the words they needed, but just as Nick’s silent snarl was rebuked, so was Andrew’s priggish smirk.

It was just another day Nick secretly wished Ward was still working. Even if they rarely worked side by side, having a human back-up meant he was able to snap back without fear of a full repercussion from the Chief. Now, he was Sergey’s safeguard; he couldn’t go jeopardizing either of them.

They finished tacking on the last of their gear, but Sergey still slammed his locker heatedly once he’d grabbed his phone.

“C’mon, we’re probably working Grand today,” Nick nudged his arm, and caught his brows perking up. “Putting assholes in cuffs always feels good.”

↠

A hard exhale puffed from her pursed lips, her elbow draped over her eyes and rocking in her office chair, but even being reclined and keeping movement constant didn’t completely appease the little one favoring one side of her hips to lean on.

No matter how she pushed back or resorted to kicking her heels off under her desk to walk circles in her office, Leo did his best to stand straight and break free of his ever shrinking home no matter how he tossed his mother about.

A particular hard jab against her bladder stirred a grunt, her knees pinching and jerking upwards.

“C’mon Leo, harass me at home but not here,” she lamented, smirking when he tapped gently under her rubbing hand.

“Is he using your insides as a trampoline?” came Tam’s voice, and she unveiled her eyes to find her peeking over her cubby.

“He’s bungee jumping with his umbilical cord,” Callie smiled weakly, her head dropping back as Tam laughed.

“You up for lunch? I brought wings for everyone,” her boss smiled coyly, but the immediate growl in Callie’s stomach banished the curiosity as to why she’d gone out of her way to buy such a luxurious lunch for everyone.

“I’m always in the mood for wings, c’mon now,” Callie sassed, graciously accepting Tam’s hands when she aided in getting Callie standing.

“Maybe it’ll get that little boy settled down,”

“He only stops when he’s tired,” Callie groaned, again accepting Tam’s elbow as they walked across the polished marble floors to the break room. A small trip through the branch couldn’t go without someone commenting on her size, always asking how close she was to popping. At first watching their faces shift between surprise then either disgust or amazement when it was revealed she wasn’t as far along as people assumed was funny, but now it just annoyed her. People became bolder the bigger she got, it seemed.

Maybe they assumed she wouldn’t try swinging in her condition if they kept egging her on…

“My branch isn’t gonna run as smoothly without you here,” Tam grieved, the girls taking a turn down the hall to the break room.

“I bet you’ll like the replacement more than me, but if any of you ruin how streamlined I have those orders now I swear I’ll hunt you,” Callie threatened.

She thought it odd when Tam stepped before her to grab for the doorknob, and eyed her suspiciously once stepping in, but the loud shouting from the many co-workers stood behind a table with assorted foods and a small cake brought her hands to her cheeks, stifling her wide smile as they cheered and clapped for her.

The glimmering banner that read ‘baby boy’ stretched across the narrow room said all she needed to know before spotting the gifts stacked atop another table, and Tam walked her in, everyone giving Callie a hug and wishing her best during her last day of work before maternity leave. The silver and gold decorations brought the usually drab breakroom to life, as well as the clammer that went on inside as she made her rounds, thanking every person who found the time to help with the surprise.

Curious hands found their way to her stomach, most of them knowing how active of a kicker Leo was. Plenty had seen her wince through presentations or conversations when he’d act particularly vivacious, and plenty had also helped her waddle across the building when Leo was ruthless.

Now, they had a chance to feel the calmer kicks and somersaults, most of the women stacking their hands and blubbering when they witnessed first hand how reactive he was to small taps and pokes.

But the more the hands piled on, the more Callie wanted to push them away; she could handle a few, but the insistent questions from every direction and clamor all around was making her fatigued, and sweat start to collect at her hairline.

“You look like you’re ready to pop right now!” Lupe, one of the new girls Callie was still warming up to exclaimed as she came up to hold her stomach a little aggressively. Her unusually long, square tipped nails always bothered her in addition to the tacky blue eyeshadow she caked on, but even if the girl was awkward and didn’t know boundaries, she was sweet and a good worker.

Callie laughed flatly. “Still have a month left,”

“Oh I’m sure you’ll go before then, are we doing bets? Who’s holding bets?” she turned to announce, running off to harass someone about it.

Callie shook her head, moving to a chair she could easily recline into.

“You okay hun?” Ellie came up next. They’d both been hired the same day those years ago and had excelled in different positions, but through all the competition, they’d had remained close. Ellie was also one of the few at the branch who had a good head on her shoulders and kept her nose out of other people's business, something that was hard to do in a building full of young adults that gossiped like mad.

“It’s just a lot,” Callie said lowly, fanning her warm cheeks.

“Do you want me to make everyone leave?”

“Nah, I’m hidden in the corner back here. I just need a minute,” Callie grinned, grabbing a cold water from the bucket beside her.

“Hopefully they give you a few minutes before the next wave comes.”

Callie scoffed, downing the cold water before fixing her camisole under her thick sweater. Another long breath, and she situated deeper into the stiff chair, holding her stomach protectively when someone moved to closely and she thought they were going to lean in for a touch.

Now that Leo was settling down, it made her reluctant to get up and interact with the people who had spent time and money on throwing this, but finally having a moment of peace in her own body made her aware to how tired she was. On top of restlessness, her son was just as restless, often keeping her up at night coupled with the heartburn and braxton hicks. When she figured no one was looking, she let her head rest back against the wall, her hand tracing across her belly where she felt one final swirl before probably falling into a nap.

“Cal!? Callie!?” she’d heard him yell, and tensed with a hidden, beaming smile when he came charging back into the room, his footing nearly lost as he jumped onto their bed.

“You’re pregnant? Is this yours? This is yours?” he exclaimed, pulling the blanket away.

“It’s been sitting there since we got home!” she laughed, squealing when he shouted and jumped, quickly pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

“Oh baby,” he wept, holding her face to kiss her repeatedly. “I’m so proud of you-” another kiss, “Oh my god,” he went on, burying his face against her neck when he wrapped his brawny arms around her waist, keeping her tight against his chest. “Oh I can smell it!” he sobbed, taking deep inhales past the stuffiness of his nose.

She wiped her teary eyes behind him, smiling against his mouth when he chanted thanks in Orkish, holding her face between his big hands.

“When did you take it?” he asked, sitting back so he could lean farther down to press his face to her flat stomach.

“At work,” she sniffled, holding his shoulders when he pulled her into his lap. She kissed the top of his head, embracing around his neck. With his cheek against her chest, he breathed deeply again and again, noticing the small differences of her scent this time around.

He continued to squeeze her in tight hugs and kisses, telling her how amazing she was, how proud he was; that this one was going to be their miracle.

“What if it happens again?” she asked quietly, as if saying it too loudly would determine this baby’s fate.

“It won’t. This one is yours,” he told her firmly, holding her head. “You’re gonna hold this one and watch it grow. I can see it in you already, baby. I think your body knows that this is it,” Nick told her sincerely, his thumbs wiping away the tears that slipped down her cheek.

She placed her hands over his, nodding with her eyes closed and their foreheads touching. “I’m really excited,” she confessed silently, smiling when Nick’s own gleamed up at her.

“Good, stay excited,” he pressed, kissing her again.

“What if-”

“No what if’s this time. We go with hope this time, okay? No more being cautious. It’s not good for you,” he pleaded, letting his breath go when she nodded hesitantly.

“I’ll try,”

The kiss he gave her was tender, and careful. It was a lot to ask her to be optimistic when she’d only been dealt unfair hands thus far, and he wanted to remind her that with every step or bump, he’d be there, shouldering the same struggles as best as he could. But even though he could feel the slight tension in her frame, he could also feel how much she bared to him, and in turn how much she trusted his words.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” she said softly, her dazzling smile filling him with warmth.

“We’re gonna have a baby!” He shouted, tackling her back onto the mattress and smothering her until she laughed.

The moment often came to her when she’d stare down at her size, always amazed at how much time had flown by and how little she worried for Leo’s passing now, but the memory had a way of bringing her back to herself. In moments where she felt unsure, or anxious- often when she wondered if she was ready for this new step in life, it reminded her that no matter the crowds or opinions around them, it was her and Nick. They’d jumped into parenthood hand in hand, and sometimes they looked at one another without a clue of what came next, but she was thankful he was there to be scared with.

No one else fought like they had to the point they were now or knew their unborn son like they did. Nick could tell if Leo was close to napping by the temper of his kicks, and if he talked long enough, he could seemingly hypnotize him into peace.

This one is yours.

Callie grinned against the palm of her hand.

He’s mine.

“Callie!”

Her head shot up, finding Tam motioning in her direction. “C’mon, we have games!”

The self indulgent moment was comfortably tucked away, and she stood to join her co-workers at the tables just as they’d started pulling out rolls of toilet paper.

↠

“Boy, seven arrests in one day!” Nick exclaimed, slapping Sergey’s palm forcefully after they’d stepped from the cruiser.

“Ah it’s just luck,” he brushed off, grabbing the latest arrest from the back seat. The middle aged woman tugged against his strong hold, but otherwise kept her blonde head bowed down in shame.

“Luck is finding dope in the trunk. All of this,” Nick shook the impressive pile of paperwork. “Is pure instinct. This is impressive for your first day back,”

“I didn’t think I’d jump at chasing someone,”

“And some tackling too, apparently,” Nick mumbled in Orkish, motioning towards the disheveled nature of the girl, more notably the deep scratches covering her arms after she’d been chased into some thicket.

“I have energy I can’t take out on Dura anymore,” he intoned, and Nick scoffed.

“I hear that,” he sighed in return, the pair entering the precinct. They were about to take a hard left to intakes when a flash of blue caught Nick’s eye, and he stopped Sergey.

Pointing down the hall, they both spotted Kandomere speaking to one of the detectives that had been called in from another state to help deal with a recent increase in dragon slayings that were out of season. As usual, the elf was calm and collected, and as usual, didn’t acknowledge the Orcs existence despite meeting their curious gazes.

“Now’s your chance,” Nick murmured.

“I have this,” Sergey muttered, but Nick quickly took hold of her cuffs, jerking his chin in Kandomere’s direction.

“The worst that can happen is you leave with the same answers you had before,”

Sergey exhaled, his hands flat against his chest. “He makes me nervous,”

“If you give him back the attitude it makes it easier to deal with,” Nick advised, shrugging when he eyed him dubiously. Sergey stared a moment longer before squaring his shoulders and puffing his chest.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

“Go for it.”

It was slow, but Sergey still headed down the hall with confidence in his frame, waiting patiently until Kandomere had finished his conversation before grabbing his attention. Nick couldn’t help but linger even as the woman in his hands commented on their stalling, waiting until Sergey was following the elf down the hall and turning to give him a thumbs up.

Nick released his breath, finally directing the woman to the back of the precinct to be processed, but as he walked, he came to a stunning realization.

Watching Sergey walk up to Kandomere had filled him with such anxiety that he was certain if the young Orc had been berated before the men and women surrounding them, he would’ve stepped in and shielded him from the lashing. Somewhere along the line, Nick had become fiercely protective of his partner, even willing to go as far as saying he was the younger sibling he’d secretly always wanted.

He already found himself wanting to smack him upside the head when he made bold strokes that would land them in hot water, and the two would often fall into near wrestling matches when either of their tempers flared, but it was also nice talking to someone who was on his side of the daily battles.

Someone who could identify with his struggles on a more relatable level. Venting to Callie or Ward always lessened the heartache, but knowing Sergey went home sometimes feeling the same weight on his shoulders didn’t make him feel better, but brought him to feeling content in his decision to become a cop. After years of battling hate and doubt, it was good to know someone else was as dumb as him to pursue such a dream.

Nick chuffed, startling the woman before him.

It could be his paternal instincts kicking in and asserting themselves over the people he cared for.

Either way. It seemed that Nick had taken Sergey under his wing in every sense, yet it made him prideful. He liked being able to share his knowledge and wisdom in hopes it would improve his experience.

Assuming I could keep him from being blown away by a Bright.

A rogue hand dipped into his pile of potato chips smothered in Tapatío, but before Nick could swing, Sergey plopped down before him with the chips crunching in his mouth.

“I keep forgetting to tell Dura to get me this,” Sergey groaned, snatching another chip despite Nick flicking his hand.

“How’d it go?” he inquired, bringing his late lunch closer to himself.

He could see the words processing in his eyes as Sergey opened his own, shrugging or scowling, eventually saying, “He really does have an attitude,’

Nick chuckled. “Told you,”

“I got my answers though. Now I can sleep knowing she won’t show up randomly,”

Nick’s brows furrowed. “He told you where she is?”

He nodded, opening his hearty chicken soup. “He didn’t tell you?”

“I never asked, actually,” Nick mumbled, leaning back in the small cafeteria chair. “Where is she?”

“Kamishak Bay,” he said before biting into his dipped crackers.

Nick blinked away the disbelief before sitting forward, his voice dropping a few octaves when he asked, “Kamishak actually exists?”

“Apparently,”

“They have like, Minotaurs there!” Nick hissed, his eyes wide with wonder, but Sergey snorted.

“Minotaurs don’t exist, dumbass,”

“Neither did Kamishak until fifteen seconds ago,”

Sergey opened his mouth to protest, but the more he thought it over, the more likely that all the creatures rumored to not exist suddenly held great possibility of roaming the Earth, and he matched Nick’s stance in leaning over their food before whispering, “I’ve always sworn I saw a Griffin once,”

That was when Nick thought maybe it was a little far-fetched to think they were housing creatures.

“Either way,” he went back to arranging his food. “Why take her there, though? She was dismantled,”

“Where else would they take her?”

Nick poked his chicken and rice, eventually shrugging. “Well I hope they threw away the key after locking her in.”

↠

A jaw stretching yawn Callie didn’t bother to cover went largely unnoticed by the account holders in line, but there was always that one that eyed her upon seeing someone yawn like a horse. She could really give two shits; after an extended lunch and keeping up with games and people, she wanted to nap for a full day, and the last hour of work had dragged on and on.

So had Leo’s insistent kicking, right against her bladder.

She didn’t make it five minutes into the final hour before texting Nick to come take her home early, and once she spotted the cruiser pulling up outside, she eagerly placed the ‘closed’ placard on her counter, catching the displeased sigh from an older woman who’d admittedly been waiting in line longer than anyone should, but once spotting Callie’s obvious condition after she slid down her chair and waddled into view, sympathy flickered across the woman’s hardened brows before she looked away stubbornly.

“You need help taking the bags out?” Tam asked over her office wall once Callie had started gathering the few filled to the brim with leftovers and various gifts.

“Nah it’s okay,” she grunted while standing upright with the bags in hand and purse over her shoulder. “Nick’ll be in here in a sec,”

“Wait wait-” Tam rushed around the wall, outstretching her short arms.

Callie frowned, placing the bags down to reach over her belly and embrace her boss tightly.

“My branch is gonna crumble without you here,” Tam greived, but Callie giggled. “Promise you’ll bring Leo in when he’s born?”

“I promise,” Callie smiled, giving her a final squeeze. They parted in time for a few more co-workers that had seen Nick come in to bid Callie a temporary goodbye. She could excuse the gentle belly pats this time as they in turn wished Leo best wishes, and in addition asked to see the little one once he made his debut.

Many goodbyes and promises later, Callie had her bags in hand and was waddling back to the cubby she had been set behind to grab her sweater when some rather peculiar conversation floated her way, and looked over to the two new girls stood by the fax machine behind the counter, staring out into the lobby with hungry eyes.

“No girl, I’ve seen him here before!”

“Have you talked to him?”

“He’s always working, I don’t wanna bother him,” the curly haired brunette whined, peaking over her shoulder. Callie followed her eyes, and nearly choked when it lead to Nick handing out stickers to a small mob of children.

Her brows pinched, thinking they must have been talking about someone else.

“You freak, you like Orcs?”

Callie scoffed under her breath. Nevermind.

“He’s mad cute bitch, don’t deny it!” She looked over her shoulder again, as if trying to catch Nick’s attention by staring long enough.

Callie’s eyes narrowed in thought as she pulled her sweater on; had she really gone without making it known that that cute cop was her cute cop? The very one that had planted this little boy in her belly? During the entire two weeks they’d started working there!?

“I’m gonna talk to him,” the brunette decided with unsteady confidence, tugging on the shoulders of her cardigan. “I don’t see a ring on his finger, either,” she winked, squealing when the other girl did.

Okay, that’s enough.

Although it would’ve been entertaining to see her waltz up to Nick on her cheap heels and try to woo him with her caked lashes, the territorial side of Callie was irked, and had she not been so exhausted, she might’ve had the energy to chew her out. This matter at hand was rearing its ugly face far too often to keep letting it slide.

“Go go, he’s free!” her co-worker encouraged, pushing the brunette towards the end of the counter.

“I can talk to him for you,” Callie smiled without even apologizing for eavesdropping, but the girls sparkling eyes only spelled excitement.

“Really!? You know him?” she beamed, shimmying her shoulders to spread her camisole a little farther.

Callie had to withhold rolling her eyes. “Yeah! He’s my baby daddy,”

The smile weakened, and the confusion across their faces almost stirred a hard snort, but before either could ask if she was serious, she was gathering her bags to click across the marble lobby.

She knew their eyes were following her, and upon walking up to Nick and seeing that his eyes although covered by his Clubmasters were only on her, and those lips curling into a toothy grin were about to meet hers really tempted her to pull him down for a searing liplock, but Callie reminded herself that the quick yet loving peck he left on her mouth coupled with his hand holding her face spoke louder than causing a commotion.

“What’s all this?” he asked, visibly scenting the air when the aroma of wings wafted upwards.

“Mini baby shower, and,” Callie stepped closer, pretending to struggle in handing over another bag. “The brunette behind the counter wants to get at you,”

Nick looked behind her, witnessing the girl fumbling to look occupied with anything else, and his brows flattened in mild disgust. “Good thing I only like strippers,”

Callie punched his chest, her knuckles cracking against his vest before they made their way towards the doors. She didn’t bother looking back, but didn’t care if they were still watching, even with Nick’s hand placed on her lower back and opening the heavy glass door for her. Maybe they’d ask around, and maybe she’d gain another enemy, but something she’d come to learn dating and now bearing the child of an Orc, is learning how to stand her ground like them.

“You’re coming in?” she asked when he too exited the cruiser with the gifts in hand.

“For a quick bite of these wings,” he grinned, jogging to the other side of the car to offer an elbow. When she grabbed ahold, she couldn’t resist squeezing his rock hard biceps that the uniform was becoming increasingly snug over. She grinned knowing her co-workers had admired him from afar, and knowing she could run her hands across his chiseled body at any moment had her blood racing.

“Tryin’ to get a feel of these guns?” Nick teased, tensing his arm so she’d titter.

“Si, do it again papi,” she whined in exaggeration, laughing louder when he tried to pull away from the awful pet name.

“Get your cute ass inside,” he ordered playfully.

“Okay ready?”

“Ready,” he said around a wing, holding his phone up with the camera open.

Callie turned with a yellow onesie striped with dark blue lines laying over her stomach, a blue beanie to match rested under her bust. “This is my favorite,”

“That’s the one,” Nick smiled, clicking a few pictures worth as she spun in various poses.

“Right!? I saw it and thought the same thing,” she whined lovingly, her hands over the onesie and swaying.

Nick grinned as he chewed, watching her look down at her stomach and rub her hands over the outfit, eventually sliding it up over her chest. “I can’t believe I get to hold him one day,” she smiled.

“Soon, not one day,” he corrected, grabbing for another wing as she held the clothing up one last time to gaze at it. Carefully she folded it away into a separate bag from the other gifts littered about the kitchen counter.

Turning his wrist to glance at his watch, he sighed. “I gotta get back,” he groaned.

“Yeah?” she glanced over her shoulder. “Rosie is gonna be here soon,”

“At least you can knock some stuff off the registry,”

She chuckled. “Yeah that’s true,”

His classic pout made her giggle once she finished organizing the bags, lifting her arms until he stepped into her hug. Even with the heavy vest and belt across his body she snuggled tight against him, tilting her face up.

“I want you to come with,” she groaned, her jaw held in his hand as he peppered her with sweet kisses.

“Me too,” another smooch, “but I gotta go make more ladies swoon,”

A brow kicked up as she gazed up at him. “Getting a big head now?”

“It was a joke,” he grumbled, reluctant to unwrap from her warm embrace.

“You know it happens a lot more than you think,”

Nick scoffed. “Quit fibbin’,”

“I’m not! Do you know how often I hear girls talking about you? Looking at all this muscle?” her hands added point by slapping his ass, but he only snorted. “I can’t stand the way they look at you,”

Now Nick’s brow kicked up, the beginnings of a smirk creeping across his mouth.

“It’s not funny!” she exclaimed, leaning back enough to slap her hand against his chest.

“Do you get jealous?” he dared asking, smiling when her big eyes narrowed.

“I do,” she admitted lowly.

“You know I don’t look at anyone else,” he devoted softly against her lips before placing another kiss there. “I don’t even notice it,”

“I do. They can fuck off and get their own cop,” she blistered, the temper of her eyes rising as she tugged on his hips possessively. His mouth sealed over hers, a low moan hatching in her throat as his wide palms smoothed up her curved spine, his fingertips finding her hot skin as he made it up across her shoulder blades.

“Too bad humans can’t smell who you’ve fucked,” he whispered against her jaw, pressing his face flat against her neck when he caught the first hint of her arousal soaking through her panties.

“Too bad I can’t fuck you in the middle of a crowd when I see someone staring,”

Nick laughed. “Welcome to my world,”

“You can fuck me right now?” she breathed, arching back to find his face. “Fuck me so they know who I belong to,”

His eyes fluttered, a searing flush firing up his body. She was so unbelievably sexy and didn’t even know it.

A short gasp tumbled from her lips when he lifted her onto the countertop, reaching for the velcro on his sides but stopping when she grabbed for his hands.

“Keep it on,” she smiled, bringing his lips to hers. “Lemmee fuck my man in uniform,”

Nick whined, relieved he didn’t have to waste any time in stripping off the gear across his body, and quickly worked on his belt and pants as she wiggled side to side to pull her tight skirt up, all the while continuing to kiss him hurriedly.

His open mouth found her slender neck when his heavy dick fell into her grasp, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter and poking blindly until his thick head pushed between her slick lips.

The sweet burning of his girth always made her head roll back, a long sigh billowing out as he buried himself deep in her pussy. Her fingers hooked over the collar of his vest, clinging to him desperately as he made long, slow passes in and out, his forehead against her shoulder so he could see her juices shimmering across his cock.

“Is’so good,” he slurred, the heavy hands that had been on her hips moving roughly up to the crook of her spine when she bowed backwards, her heels hooking the cabinets below them and knees spreading farther.

Callie sang before him, jaw hung and gripping the hand that had grasped the collar of her camisole for better leverage when his hips started rutting harshly against her.

She smiled when noticing how concentrated he was on where they came together, the gear across his body doing nothing to hinder his rocking hips or fervent hands wandering across her form.

All that mattered was the slick heat engulfing him, and the way she whimpered his name and reached down to gently touch where he entered.

“Harder, Jakoby,” she gasped, and his dilated eyes shot to hers.

“What?” he breathed.

“I said fuck me harder, Officer Jakoby,” she ground out, using her heels to pull him closer.

She saw the feral shift in his eyes before she was suddenly being dragged off the counter and spun, his big hands pulling the skirt farther up her hips.

It took only moments to find her center again and squeeze in, his groin pressed tight against her ass. Callie moaned, pressing her ass tighter against him. She wanted him deep; she wanted to cry out every time he slammed in.

And she did. He fired into her with an iron grip at her hips, the head of his dick shooting delicious shocks high into her gut and making her eyes roll back.

A choked cry forced it’s way past her clenched jaw, her elbows landing on the countertop. The dizzying pleasure made her knees weak, but she was sure even if she went limp that Nick would hold her in a dangle and still finish.

She wouldn’t mind, of course.

A burning slap to her ass cheek made her bow, her eyes pinching shut. A thick handful of her hair craned her neck, a louder cry ringing off the walls.

“Say it again,” Nick groused into her ear, his voice shaking with his hard thrusts.

“Fuck me harder, Officer-” she strangled, crying out when his foot pushed at her inner ankle and spread her thighs farther.

She could hear the keys to his belt jingling, the gear clicking and shifting; she considered reaching back to touch his gun, but when a brilliant fire started to grow in her groin, her breaths started to come in pants.

“Nick- I’m gonna cum-” she gasped, reaching back blindly, but her wrist was snatched and held against her lower back, a loud growl following from Nick as he savored the way his impacts shot up her body, relishing in how her moans came forth in cries and whimpers.

His girl had kept a dirty secret from him after all this time, and her body was alive under his touch. Heaving, begging, writhing- he drank it all in, and when her pussy started to tighten around his cock, he leaned his head back, slowing to long strokes.

Her muffled words confirming her climax barely floated to his ears as he basked in the pulses, massaging every inch he hid inside and now gripping her sides hard enough to make her cry out when it was enough to send him over the edge. He still carried on with the slow strokes, milking himself into her tight center, their juices mingling and dripping from her flushed cunt onto the tile floors.

He sang her name repeatedly, his stomach stiff from clenching and thighs shaking the longer he forced himself to stay buried inside her.

Nick’s eyes peeled open to look down at the way he slipped from her slowly, his wet dick falling heavy from her filled hole.

He leaned over to kiss her shoulder, leaning onto the counter when she turned her head lazily to kiss him, her dark tresses tangled before her face. The two panted as he rested over her, his face pressed against the back of her neck and his dick pressed against her folds as they both came floating back down to earth.

“There’s so much,” she whimpered, looking down at the mess between their feet.

“I’m sorry,” he slurred, pushing off the counter and stiffly standing upright.

She was pushing her skirt down her hips by the time he sauntered from the kitchen and towards the bathroom, the gear across his body heavier than before.

Callie held her stomach as she went about cleaning the mess they’d made, but never before had she wanted more than to just flop onto her bed and sleep, even with Nick’s load still inside her. Doggy always took it out of her; in that position, he found the deepest her pussy stretched and filled it completely, sometimes finding it’s end if she were positioned just right.

She slapped the used wipe into the trash and leaned against the counter, her stomach knotting uncomfortably.

“Are you okay?” Nick asked with concern, holding her sides when he came back up behind her.

“I think you pressed my labor button,”

“WHAT!?” Nick shouted, his hands retracting and spinning her by the shoulders.

Callie giggled. “I’m joking,” she grinned, watching the color return to his face. “That was just a hard session,”

“I did what you asked,” he said bashfully, still a little lightheaded from that sudden rush of panic.

“I know baby, but he-” she jabbed her finger in Leo’s direction. “Is mad he got thrown around,”

Nick snorted, imagining how jostled Leo really might’ve been during that. “Are you gonna be okay going out?”

“Oh yeah. If I have to I’ll use one of those scooters,” she smiled with an eye closed as their son kicked angrily into her ribs.

“Just be careful. I gotta bounce,” he leaned down to bless her lips with a few soft kisses, his hand cupping under her jaw.

“Be safe,” she frowned, looping her arms around his waist one more time for a tight hug.

“Always am.” He said into her hair, bending over to kiss her stomach and mumble to Leo before grabbing his sunglasses and phone to leave. They said their I love you’s softly to one another at the door, a final kiss passing before he skipped down the porch and to the cruiser parked in the driveway.

She lingered at the door until he was on the street, smiling when he chirped the sirens and flashed the lights before driving away.

“Oh God oh God oh God.” Callie spun to race down the hall towards the bathroom, her bladder near exploding.

Callie let out an animalistic noise as she struggled out of Rosie’s sedan, her back stiff and hips sore.

“Add a belly band to the list,” Rosie had jogged around her car to help straighten Callie up.

“It’s going at the top,” she winced.

The two were slow going across the wet parking lot, but walking was easier than standing for extended periods which Callie quickly found herself in when the woman behind the counter proved she shouldn’t even be able to breathe and blink at the same time let alone work at Target. A sour beginning to a night they’d both been looking forward to, but after two more associates chased off the dense worker, Callie had a scanner in hand and a growing grin as she made her way deeper into the store.

“Thank you, next,” she sang after scanning a few nursing bras with Rosie beside and sharing sage advice she’d accumulated over the years.

It amazed Callie just how much went into pregnancy aftercare; spandex bands that squeezed muscles back into shape, the Dermaplast that would help ease the burning after pushing Leo out- even panty liners!

“You’ll never sneeze without peeing a little ever again,” Rosie explained, taking the upper hand in scanning the packs multiple times. “Always cross your legs,”

She followed her older sister a little dispondantly after that. Maybe a c-section wouldn’t be the worst…

Rosie glanced back when her fawning over a baby blanket set went unanswered, finding Callie looking down at her stomach.

“No, a c-section wouldn’t be better,” she guessed, and Callie looked at her skeptically.

“How-”

“Cuz I thought the same thing, now c’mere, look,” she jerked her head in the direction of the blankets, pleased when quite the handful were scanned.

“I’m not a fan of the blue,” Callie mumbled as she skimmed through what they’d selected so far.

“It’s impossible to avoid though,”

“Yeah I guess,”

Rosie was running her hand over a luxurious velvet sweater when a particularly sour topic came forth, chewing her lip in hesitation before deciding to speak on it. “Trish wants to help with the baby shower,”

She’d expected Callie to brush that off rather quickly, but not the genuine holler of laughter she let out, a hand on her chest as she leaned back into the whooping.

“That amusing, huh?”

“C’mon, you know she’s just doing it to stick her nose in my business so she has more shit to talk,” Callie rolled her eyes, scanning the small sweater.

“Hasn’t done much of that lately, actually,”

“But when I asked to see Yare she had to call dad and cry that I was the one out of line, right?” she looked back, her lips in a flat line and eyes wide in wait.

Rosie tried to fight the facts, but in the end, she settled with, “Yeahhh,”

“I fought years to get to this point and I’m not gonna let her ruin it, Rose- I don’t care how upset it makes everyone,” Callie scanned clothes angrily, her arm snapping with every barcode inputted.

“I get that but-”

“No buts! Everytime I miscarried she found some way to pin the blame on me just when I’d start to convince myself there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening,” Callie snapped, the old, bitter emotions crawling out from the closet she’d stuffed them into with her skeletons. “I would never blame what happened with Michael on her but if you show any sign of weakness around her, she attacks. Fuck that noise,”

Rosie nodded, following silently behind as Callie clicked the scanner vehemently over random objects whose purpose in raising a baby was unknown, but she could barely see past the fresh, stinging tears brimming in her eyes.

“For three years I tried to have what you two could do in your sleep and when it happened, all she said was ‘was that so hard’?” Callie looked back at Rosie whose brows were furrowed in horror.

“She said that?” she hissed, grabbing Callie’s arm when she tried to turn away. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What’s another knife in the back?” she murmured, wiping her eyes quickly.

“Ay chaparrita,” Rosie keened, pulling Callie to her side and resting her cheek against her head as she composed herself, the tears wiped away on Nick’s thermal she’d borrowed. A few sniffles later and she was stepping away, running her fingers through her hair and letting a deep breath go. “I’ll tell her to stay back. I wish you would’ve told me sooner though,”

“It’s one of those things that are harder to repeat than first hearing it,”

“I hear that. Look,” Rosie reached for a set of swaddlers. The chubby lion was at the center of the sunflower yellow wrap, it’s big eyes and blocky mane striking a chord in Callie.

She scoffed and sniffled again. “I don’t like the Leo lion thing,” she mumbled.

“But this? This is fucking cute. I wish they would’ve had this kind of stuff when I had Joaquin,”

“Mm… Nick would like it,” she noted, scanning the set and handing it back. “It is kinda cute,”

When a few more were handed down from Rosie, she scanned them, less enthusiastic as before.

Rosie felt for her. She knew just as well how vicious their older sister could be, how willing she was to fire at people when they were at their lowest.

In a heated argument once before, she’d asked Rosie how she could’ve made the mistake of leaving her children unattended long enough to find their way into death's arms, and it had been the cause of her second relapse back into Ambien, desperate to sleep away the words that were left branded into her skin. Sometimes, she had to remind herself that just because she’d patched the crack between them crudely didn’t mean others were ready to do the same.

“No more talk about Trish, yeah? I’m sorry I brought it up, she’s just been at my neck about it,” Rosie sighed.

“If she’s so adamant she should just come to me, but that’s like a nun touching a dick,”

Rosie’s face soured. “Nick’s given you a foul mouth,”

“It’s cuz of where my mouth has been-”

“Okay enough,” Rosie wiggled her hands before Callie’s face. “Your son is listening!”

“Poor thing was forced to listen to the fucking Nick laid on me today,” Callie panted playfully, fanning her cheeks.

“You probably poked one of his eyes out,” Rosie said through the corner of her mouth, earning a hard smack to her arm. “Is that why you’ve been walking weird?”

“Mind your own business.” Callie smarted, scanning three different brands of the baby slings Nick had told her of numerous times.

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we're definitely shifting into a little slice of life kinda writing, but DON'T YOU ALL WORRY CUZ YOU KNOW I ALWAYS HAVE SOME SHIT JUST AROUND THE CORNER FOR THESE TWO <3 if anyone caught when callie said there was only a month left until Leo's predicted birth, it might give you a little insight as to when we might expect him! ;D i apologize the updates have been staggered! i hit a rather nasty bout of writers block and THEN artists block AND THEN DEVELOPED A SINUS INFECTION so i've been clogged in every aspect hahaha

anyways, i hope you enjoyed the chapter! feedback is always appreciated! 💛

Translations: -Nauk-avurn votar avo avhiuk liavavle ni, ah? - come home to this little one, ah? -Jiak'll alwayuk nauk-avurn avo mausan girluk - i'll always return to my girls

[zayashmaya]

Gamzee x Reader; SFW

You win a prize for Gamzee at a carnival. 

@compositecreature i dedicate this to u and our brainstorming sessions 

The starry night sky was all aglow with an endless sea of neon-lit stalls and a giant ferris wheel dominating the coastline. The boardwalk you currently strolled through with Gamzee was packed with people, creating a never-ending path of obstacles to maneuver around as you gripped his hand so you would not lose each other. You had just gotten off a particularly terrifying roller coaster, and you decided a nice, relaxing walk was needed to calm your nerves.

Except hanging out with Gamzee was always a crazy ride in of itself. You could never predict his strange moods or what excited him. The carnival trip was intended to lift his spirits and make him feel more at ease, yet at certain moments when he thought you were not paying attention, you could see his ever-present smile fall as he stared at the scenery before him.

This was a response you somewhat anticipated, and you certainly knew he would hide this side of him from you. Gamzee never liked to reminisce on the past, after all, always bottling up the unpleasant and throwing them out into the sea of his endless thoughts. You were working on that with him. Once in a while, he would humor you, reaching out for a bottle and popping it open for a quick gander. He didn’t always like what was inside.

You squeezed his hand to get his attention, and as quick as lightening that dopey smile returned when he looked down at you. “WhAt’S cOoKiNg AlL uP iN tHe AgEnDa FoR uS, mY gOoD sIs?”

“That depends on you,” you said. “I’ve been doing a lot of the leading so far. What do you wanna do?”

“I dIdN’t GeT mY tHiNk On MuCh FoR sOmE sUcH oPtIoNs, WhAt WiTh ThIs AlL bEiNg A hUmAn ThInG. aIn’T nOtHiN hErE mAkIn MuCh SeNsE. lIkE tHaT wEiRd MoThErFuCkEr — “ He pointed to what initially seemed like a silver statue, until the performer moved ever so slowly to change his pose while onlookers took photos. “WhAt ThE mOtHeRfUcK iS tHaT nOiSe? aIn’T nEvEr SeEn SuCh ShIt In My LiFe. ThAt BrOtHeR’s GoT hIs PaInT aLl Up AnD oN lIKe Me AnD pEoPlE aRe MakInG sTrAiGhT fOoLeRy OvEr HiM wItH aLl ThE pIcTuReTaKiNg."

You spent a good minute laughing at his genuine confusion as Gamzee glared at his source of discontentment. “I guess they didn’t have buskers on your planet?”

“NoT aNy ThAt gOt ThE mOtHeRfUcKiN gUmPtIoN tO bE mOcKiNg A mEsSiAhS-fEaRiN cLoWn.”

“This is just performance art, Gamzee. I promise he has no idea what the Messiahs even are.” You tugged on his hand to lead him away, offering him a bite of your cotton candy to appease him. He promptly devoured the sugary dessert, licking away the stickiness from his teeth. You eyes lingered on the motion for a little too long, and you quickly busied yourself with finding a new attraction.

The passivity of sitting in rides had lost its charm. It was time for something a little more active.

Your eyes settled on an old arch nemesis from your childhood — the water gun race. The stall’s cheery glowing lights and hoard of prizes mocked you, beckoning you onward as you set course for the game with renewed vigor. Gamzee obediently trailed after you, refusing to release his hold on your hand even as you sped in front of him. “WhAt’S gOt A fIrE lIt AlL uP aNd UnDeR yOu, SuGaR bUtT?”

You froze, a laugh rising out of you so fast you nearly choked on it. ”What did you call me?”

He smirked cheekily. “gOnNa KeEp EaTiNg aLl ThE wIcKeD pInK cLoUdS, gOnNa GeT hIt At WiTh sOmE sIcKnAsTy NiCkNaMeS.”

“Is that your way of telling me you want more?”

“hAhA yEaH bAbY pAsS tHaT gOoD sHiT rIgHt On OvEr HeRe.”

Gamzee effortlessly plucked the cotton candy cone from you after a very quick and one-sided skirmish, swinging his arm across your shoulders and patting your head condescendingly as he happily reaped the spoils of war. You poked his ribs in retaliation. “We’re gonna change things up a bit,” you explained, pointing to the stall. “Fancy a game with me?”

“Oh DaMn, YoU wAnNa GeT yOuR cHaLlEnGe On WiTh ThIs MoThErFuCkEr?” He leered down at you. “BeTtEr SqUaRe Up ReAl GoOd My FuNkY MoNkEy PoO, cAuSe YoU’rE gOnNa LoSe.”

“You’re really going all out with the nicknames tonight,” you snickered.

“OnE oF uS hAs GoTtA aLl uP aNd Do It, SiNcE yOu’Re A dRy AsS mOfO :o) "

“Oooh? Don’t be so sure of that, buggy boo.”

Gamzee's cocky grin faltered, and the tips of his ears flushed purple. He removed his arm from your shoulders, and you momentarily felt the loss before he took your hand once more and led you to the game stall.

Three children were preoccupied with aiming into the mouths of the clown targets, their freakishly gaping maws twisted up into mocking smiles. Gamzee took one look at the array of heads lined up against the wall and glanced at you with an incredulous expression. “yO tHeY gOt MoRe Of ThOsE pAiNtEd Up MoThErFuCkErS?”

“Yeah!” You sat on one of the stools, and Gamzee followed suit. “You have to shoot water into their mouths to fill up the balloons on their heads and make them explode. First person who does it gets a prize."

“hAhAhAhA wHaT tHe FuCk … “

While the booth operator collected money from you for the next round, Gamzee aimed his water gun with dramatic concentration, his tongue sticking out as he waited for the game to begin. You giggled quietly to yourself and positioned your gun, droning out the sound of the operator explaining how to play. This was your moment. You were finally going to win this stupid game, and claim a prize.

As soon as the bell rang, your water stream miraculously hit its target. You were too focused on keeping your position locked in place to listen to Gamzee curse and fumble with his gun, and you were trying your damnedest not to laugh as his water stream somehow wobbled like a snake in midair and completely missed its mark.

“ThIs ShIt iS sTrAiGhT uP oFfEnSiVeLy RiGgEd!”

“Don’t curse, there’s kids around,” you quipped back, and with the triumphant pop of your chosen clown’s balloon, you threw your arms up into the air and shouted, “Hell yes, motherfucker!”

The operator threw you an unamused look while you excitedly scanned the selection of stuffed toys.

And then you saw it. The perfect gift.

A lavender colored monkey with ridiculously long arms, and velcro stuck on the palms of its hands.

Gamzee chuckled at your choice as you hugged it tightly to your chest, trailing on after you as you continued to explore the carnival. “I’ve never won that game before,” you wistfully said, running your fingers through the incredibly soft fur of the plushie.

“DaNg, HoW’s A bRoThEr SuPpOsEd tO gEt HiS wIn On WhEn FaCeD wItH sOmE sUcH dEtErMiNaTiOn?”

“You never stood a chance,” you teased, and he pinched your cheek in retaliation. “It wasn’t so much about winning for my sake as it was about winning a prize for you.”

“FoR mE, bAbE?”

“Yep!” You stepped in front of him and wrapped the monkey’s arms around his neck, clasping its hands together to make them hold. Gamzee wordlessly held the plushie to his chest, staring down at it with an inscrutable expression. “It’s for your nightmares. Since I’m not always around, I figured maybe this could help you. You know. Like you could hold onto the motherfucker and all that jazz.”

He blinked at you, stupefied and unsure of how to react. You smiled warmly and made to move away, but he grasped your upper arm before you could turn. The monkey’s silly grin accosted your eyes as Gamzee leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “tHaNkS,” he shyly murmured, and when your eyes met, you suddenly realized how close he was to your face. To your lips.

It could have been either one of you who made the first move. One way or another, you found yourself on your tiptoes and a hand curled into Gamzee’s shirt, his arm looped around your waist and the stuffed animal between you keeping you both from melting into each other.

Whatever you had expected your first kiss with Gamzee to be like was nothing like this. His lips were cool and smooth, moving gently against yours without a hint of teeth. Your tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip before the shriek of a child jolted you back into awareness — shit we’re still in public — and you reluctantly pulled away, your heart hammering in your chest and your cheeks flushed. Gamzee searched your face as he reached out to caress your cheek, the predatory look in his eyes a stark contrast to his boyish smile.

“Your mouth still tastes like cotton candy,” you blurted out.

“tHaT’s CuZ yOu’Re AlL tHiNkIn LiKe WiTh YoUr StOmAcH aNd NoT yOuR bRaIn. BuT yOu BeTtEr StArT tHiNkIn WiTh YoUr HeArT iF yOu WaNt MoRe Of ThAt TaStE.”

You hid your face in his chest while he chuckled. “You’re so corny,” you said, your words muffled by his shirt.

“yEaH i Am, GoT mE aLl StIfF lIkE a MoThAfUcKiN cOrN-oN-ThE-SlObBeRiN-cOb BeInG aLl CuTe AnD pReSsEd Up AgAiNsT mE aLl SuCh.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist being crass for a moment longer.”

“HaHaHa YoU kNoW iT, mY sWeEt SpAcE mOnKeY.”

“Stop teasing me, you … silly … stevia … “

“wEaK sAuCe.”

You planted a kiss on his grinning mouth to shut him up.

[dyde21]

Marching On 2: The Auditions

I’m happy with how well received this story has been! The engagement definitely makes me want to keep pumping out chapters for this AU, even if they take a while. These chapters are pretty long. Fair warning, this one is kinda heavy on drum line, but I also used it to explain some stuff for later on. I hope it’s all understandable! More after the story!

ALSO ON AO3 HERE

XxXxXxXxX

Pausing outside the door, Percy was starting to feel a little nervous. Today was the day of tryouts and he was going in with barely any practice in snare drumming. A week ago he couldn’t have cared less about it, but now he was actually feeling nervous. 

He was pretty sure that it wasn’t because he was invested in band. His opinion of it had moved from lame to “pretty okay”. The first week had been fine overall. They went over the basics of how the year long class worked, how much money they needed to provide and what fundraisers were available throughout the year to help out. They had even had their first lesson on music theory, which confused him quite a bit but Piper was helping him out so he could at least read music now. Plus he found it a little easier to study than the normal junk he had to for school. Music was rewarding when you learned it at least, you could make a cool sound or melody.

No, he was mostly nervous that he was going to make a fool of himself. He had seen the options for drumline, and he was pretty sure the snare was the coolest to him. But also usually the most popular according to Piper so that meant he was going to have to pull off something. 

“Nervous?”

Piper said suddenly, making him jump. He hadn’t noticed her approaching. She just laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “You’ll be fine. If you have two talents, it’s getting in to trouble, and pulling through sketchy situations by some miracle.” She teased. Percy glared slightly, but couldn’t exactly argue with her. It was pretty accurate. 

Removing her arm, she just shifted and leaned against the wall next to him. “I’m honestly surprised you’re willingly here. I figured you would have ran away after class ended. You staying after school for band? Who would have thought.” She said, a hint of teasing in her tone, but she looked sideways at him showing a genuine interest.

Percy shrugged. “I told you guys, I’m going to try it out at least. Besides, my mom has been really happy that I’ve been going and I kinda owe her for not signing me up for military school or something. It’s nice seeing her smile.” He confessed, looking off to the side away from his friend, already knowing her reaction.

Piper just let out a soft coo at him. “There’s hope for you yet.” She teased, pulling off his beanie to mess with his hair, before pulling it over her own head and heading into the band room.

Percy followed her, trying to fix his horrible case of beanie-hair from wearing it all day.

“What are you doing here anyway, are you trying out for drumline?”

Piper laughed at him. “Please. I’m actually trying out for color guard this year. Tryouts are today as well.”

She turned to see his dumbfounded expression and rolled her eyes. “Flags.” 

“Oh!” Percy announced, finally understanding. “Why is called color guard? Are you like supposed to protect the band with those poles?” He asked, earning a sign from Piper who just ignored his stupid question. 

All the chairs that normally filled the band room had been stacked neatly along the walls, freeing up most of the room. There were large drums on harnesses lined up in a semi-circle and a smattering of students gathered around. Annabeth caught their eye and made her way over. “You showed up, I’m impressed. Piper said you might bail.”

Percy shot a glare at his friend who just stuck her tongue out. “You have to admit there was like a fifty percent chance.”

“Maybe.”

Annabeth let out a laugh and smiled at him. “Well you’re here, and that’s all that matters. Based off your playing, I’m sure you can get a spot.”

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “I hope so.”

The blonde turned to Piper. “So you’re trying for color guard this year?” 

Setting her bag next to where Percy had stowed his, Piper turned around. “Yeah, I think I am. Marching is fun, but seeing Hazel and Silena having so much fun last year made me want to try it out.”

Annabeth grinned. “That’s awesome. I know you’ll do amazingly. Just listen to Hylla and I’m sure you won’t have much issue getting on the line.”

Piper nodded. “Hylla is teaching it again? Awesome. She seemed cool.” Looking over at Percy who was clearly out of place in the conversation but didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. “Sorry. Reyna’s older sister. She graduated a while ago. She runs colorguard here now. Strict, but a beautiful dancer and she’s the reason our colorguard always gets great scores.

Percy nodded. “I see. Stricter than Reyna?” He said, pausing at the thought. Reyna already put on a tough act, he couldn’t imagine what her older sister would be like if she was even more serious. He had a feeling she wouldn’t like him much. 

Both girls laughed at his expression, so he clearly wasn’t hiding it well.

“Don’t worry. Drumline has its own instructor. Honestly you’ll probably get along with her well. Or hate her. Either or.” Annabeth offered with a shrug while Percy didn’t exactly feel much more reassured.

“What’s he like?” Percy asked, suddenly worried he was going to have to deal with a hardass for drumline. Which probably wouldn’t end well, and end up with him quitting if he was honest with himself. He really did have a problem with authority.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “She’s… probably not what you’re imagining.”

Just then the doors on the other side of the band room flew open and a woman with a short pixie cut walked in, a bag and drumsticks in one hand while the other was filled with a starbucks cup. Her foot was raised from where she pulled open the door with her foot. 

“‘Sup Nerds.”

She said, smirking from behind her sunglasses.

Every preconceived notion had just shattered to pieces, meanwhile Annabeth just ran over and over and once the woman set down her bag and sticks, she pulled Annabeth into a tight hug.

“Thalia!” Annabeth said, grinning ear to ear.

Piper dragged Percy by the hand over to her. 

“Hey Thalia.”

Piper said, giving her a quick hug too. Thalia just grinned at her and return the hug. “Long time no see.”

Meanwhile Percy was staring at her. “Thalia? Grace?”

“‘Sup?” She said, shifting her eyes towards him. 

Annabeth was still all giddy while she motioned to Percy. “This is Percy. New this year, trying out for drumline.” She explained, but this was still the happiest Percy had seen Annabeth. Ever Piper seemed thrilled to see her.

Thalia removed her sunglasses, hanging them on the front of her shirt. “Wait. Jackson?” A grin crept across her face as messed his hair up. “Hey cuz, it’s been years.”

Both of the other girls stared between them surprised. 

“You know each other?”

Percy just smiled and shared a brief hug with her. “Kinda. When I was really little I used to go to some family reunions on my dad’s side. Our dads are brothers but I haven’t seen her in years.”

Thalia nodded. “You were like 5 the last time I saw you. You got big.”

Percy shifted his gaze towards Annabeth. “How do you know her? You seem like you two have a history.”

Annabeth nodded. “Thalia was a senior when I was a freshman. She was center snare here, then went off and was center snare at Olympus University for four years. She’s the reason I joined band in the first place. I owe her a lot.”

The older woman just grinned and threw her arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. “I missed you a lot too. We don’t see each other nearly enough anymore. College was busy. But when Hedge quit, Chiron called me. Asked if I would be willing to coach you guys. Figured my music degree could be useful for something after all.” She said with a laugh.

“Ms. Grace! It’s good to see you again.” Chiron’s voice cut in. “Do you have a minute?”

Thalia nodded, rubbing Annabeth’s shoulder once before she walked past them to go talk to Chiron.

Jason wandered over not to long after looking after Thalia.

“It’s gonna be weird having my sister coach me.” He offered, but his grin showed he didn’t mind much.

“We’re cousins?” Percy asked Jason, surprised.

“We are?” Jason countered. 

“You are.” Annabeth offered.

Percy frowned, rubbing his neck. “I don’t remember seeing you at the reunions.”

The blonde thought for a moment. “Probably because I was with my mom. My parent’s divorced shortly after I was born. Dad got Thalia, Mom got me.” He offered, a hint of sadness in his tone that Percy felt bad inducing. “Still, we’re family now I guess. Can I borrow money?” He teased, earning a laugh from Jason. 

“Maybe if I had any.” He countered.

Another tall woman entered the room, a bag over her shoulder with various long objects sticking out of it.

“Hylla!” Piper said, moving over to talk to her. 

The woman offered her a patient smile, staring to chat with her. Percy realized that must be the color guard instructor.

Jason nudged Percy’s arm. “Come on, I’ll show you the snares a little before we start. Just so you can see what they’re like. It’s not like a set.”

As they moved towards the drums, they saw that guy from the other day, Tyler enter the room too. Ashe was already at his side and they both had cups of coffee. Percy had a sneaking suspicion that Ashe had dragged him in here today a lot like Piper did. 

Jason was standing next to the line of five snare drums. They were much longer than normal snare drums, and had metal harnesses attached to them. “Here.” He offered, lifting one up. Stepping forward, Percy ducked his head slightly as the harness slipped over it, resting on his shoulders. He shifted, trying to get used to the sudden increase of weight in front of him, and the metal harness that wasn’t quite cushioned enough to be comfortable. Apparently he looked as uncomfortable as he felt because Jason let out a slight laugh before he effortless slipped one on himself. “You’ll get used to it. It’s really awkward at first, especially once we start marching. The weight hanging out front isn’t really comfortable ever though.”

Percy nodded, fidgeting with the harness again. He could already tell his shoulders would be sore after a while in this.  

“Here.” Jason said, grabbing a sweater and draping it over the top of the snare, pulling it pretty flat. He hit the top of snare and it was a much more muffled sound. 

“I’m pretty sure Thalia would kill us if we started playing normally before it was time. It’s loud.” To prove a point, he hit a single accented note on his snare and the entire room turned to look at him. Even Percy flinched slightly at the sudden noise that he knew was coming. 

Thalia shot him a glare and he raised his hands. 

“Just proving a point. Promise.”

She did the two fingers “I’m watching you” gesture, though she was smiling as she turned back to Chiron.

Jason just laughed and moved a sweater over his own drum, before tapping it and show how much more muted it was.

“You can see why we usually practice outdoors.”

Percy nodded, noticing the bag hanging from the side of the snare. 

“Sticks.” Jason answered following his gaze. “We tend to include stick tricks into the show, and flips don’t always go right. Sometimes you drop a stick and the last thing you want to do is be stuck without one and having to play with one stick. They will give you points for playing it off well, but it’s still not the best option so always have some spares on you.”

“Makes sense.” Was Percy’s reply.

“First things first. Snare drum sticks.” He held out a set to Percy. 

Percy’s eyes widened slightly. “The hell?” Earning a laugh from Jason, and Piper who had made her way over. 

The drumstick was about twice the size of a normal drumstick and way heavier. 

“These are what we use for marching snares. It definitely takes a while to get used to, but use need the weight to get the sound right.” Jason explained mechanically, and Percy had a feeling he had said it a few times before.

Tentatively Percy played a few muted notes, everything about it feeling wrong. It strained his wrists in a way he wasn’t used to and the snare was super bouncy, even through the sweater. 

“One last thing, do you know how to hold sticks traditional?” He asked, flipping his left stick around and holding it underhanded.

Percy stared at the stick, then at him. “Like… jazz right?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, Jazz players tend to use it too. But that’s how snare drummers drum in drumline. 

Awkwardly, Percy flipped the stick around and tried hitting the snare a few times. Jason had a tightlipped smile, as he was clearly trying not to laugh at Percy. 

“This is stupid.” Percy mumbled, unable to get his left hand to behave as well as he needed it to. 

Jason laughed. “You get used to it.” He said, patting him on the shoulder. He looked off to the side, and saw another student standing around a snare, looking awkward. Jason nodded at him before moving off to help the other guy. Percy continued to flail a bit, feeling his left elbow bouncing up and down as he tried to drum right. “Shit.” He muttered again, as the stick slipped out of his hands and clattered.

He tried to bend down to get it, but the harness was awkward and restricting his movement. 

“Here, I got it.” Piper said, handing him back his stick. “How’s it feel?”

Percy shifted slightly. “Heavy. And awkward. Drumming like this is so unnatural.” He complained.

Piper laughed. “It does look pretty bad. But when you see good snare drummers do it? In sync? It’s actually super badass.” She offered. Piper rolled her eyes when she saw his doubtful look. “You’ll see in a bit, I’m sure. Trust me.”

Nodding, Percy went back to trying to find a motion that seemed even relatively natural to him.

“All right boy scouts, let’s do this.” Thalia’s voice boomed, cutting through the murmurs and muted drumming. Everyone looked over, seeing Thalia standing with a hand on her hip grinning at the group of hopefuls.

“Color guard with me. We’re going to hold our auditions in the gym. Let’s move.” Hylla called out, giving a nod to Thalia before they ushered the group of girls out of the room. Piper had given Percy a pat on the back on her way out, wishing him luck.

“So who here is new to drumline? I heard from Chiron we have a bunch of new people and a tight schedule.”

Percy raised his hand, and glanced around. Maybe a third of the people were also raising their hands. Tyler was standing next to a weird set of four drums next to two other guys Percy didn’t recognize. 

“That’s a lot of you. But that means I have a bunch of raw talent to beat into shape.” Thalia offered. “We’re going to break up auditions into each set. Feel free to try out for different drums if you want. I may call on people if we need more filled.”

She paused, looking around. “Let’s just get the snares over with.”

Everyone looked nervous who was new and Percy felt his pulse race a bit. It seemed Thalia didn’t like wasting time.

“So snare drums are the flashiest of the group. They have the most stick tricks, they drum in unison often, and if we actually get good there’s a lot of fun you can do with drumming on other people’s drums as well. But for now you just need to worry about hitting it in time. Percy, come here.” She ordered, surprising him.

He walked over, anxiety starting to spike. Thalia ripped off the hoodie that was still draped over it and tossed it across the room. “These are loud. Get used to it.” She held out her hand for his sticks and he offered them to her, before holding onto the harness awkwardly.

With a sharp hit, she did a loud note hitting the drum. Percy flinched again, much to his annoyance. 

“It’s much worse indoors, but if you’re marching with it you need to get used to not hearing much aside from the drums while you’re playing.”

She grabbed Percy’s drum, shifting him so he was parallel to the group and stood in front of him, taking up a proper stance on the other side of his drum. “Stay still.” She ordered him, smirking.

“Playing isn’t just about hitting the right note at the right time. I’ll go over the details later, but it’s all about putting on a show. When the attention is supposed to be on you, make sure they never look away.” 

Percy glanced over at the students watching with intensity. Annabeth was in the back of the room, giving him a patient encouraging smile. 

Another sharp hit had Percy’s head snap back to Thalia who was grinning. 

“Now watch.” Another sharp hit, before she hit her stick three times, and she started counting down.

“Jason, pay attention. I need you up here next.” She said, right before she started playing. Percy’s jaw dropped at it as he watched it close up. Her playing was mesmerizing. Switching seemlessly between fast and slow notes, some notes were sharp while others buzzed a little on the drum. Then she started adding in stick tricks, spinning them and tossing them effortlessly as she played. The entire time her sharp blue eyes were staring directly at him, a very intentional smirk never faltering.

She finished with one last little flair of notes, before she thrust her hands down at her sides. Percy noted she was breathing slightly heavier but her eyes were still piercing into him. Intimidated hardly covered how he felt.

“Holy shit.” He muttered.

The room broke into applause as he looked over to Annabeth was just beaming at him with a smug look. He could hear her thoughts practically.

Told you it was cool.

“Jason, come on. Let’s show them what it’s like when it’s synced up.”

Jason walked over with his drum, pulling out a set of sticks. “You’re kidding me right? That was like an entire solo. People can’t memorize that instantly.”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “Some center snare you are.” She teased. “You still remember last year’s show right? Start of the closer. I think I remember it enough from helping you. Here, Percy give me that snare real quick.”

He quickly pulled it over his head, handing it to her. “Why didn’t you ask for it first.”

Thalia laughed and winked at him. “Cause I heard you don’t know how cool drumline is yet, and stubborn asses like you need to be shown first hand.”

Percy was just quiet and as he went back to the group. As much as her cocky attitude pissed him off, she was completely right. Her show had completely enthralled him. He couldn’t even fairly call that lame if he wanted to.

Thalia put on her drum and Jason came back with a sheet of music. “I still have it, thankfully.” He grabbed a music stand and put it on it, tapping out a few notes.

Thalia leaned in, muttering to herself as she watched it and tapped out some parts as well.

“Okay, we’ll go to the quad fill here. You got it?”

Jason nodded. “Yeah, I messed around with it to stay practiced over the summer. You good?”

Thalia scoffed at him. “You do know I played center snare for 4 years in college right? That stuff is harder than what you do here. I’ll be fine.” She said. “Here.”

She counted off, and soon they were playing in harmony. 

Percy had to admit he was impressed. He had never seen two people move in sync so well before. Their sticks were flying up and down, clacking on the rim of the drum, before buzzing perfectly in sync. It was still hard to wrap his head around the precision.

Eventually they stopped and another small round of applause happened. 

“You were dragging.” Thalia said to Jason. 

Jason rolled his eyes. “You were rushing. You hit the paradiddles and sped through them. I had to speed up to catch up.”

Thalia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t talk back to your teacher. I have way more experience than you, kid.” She said, making him squirm for a moment. “Besides, those are separate things. Me rushing the paradiddles had nothing to do with you dragging the low buzzes. Don’t blame your screw ups on mine.” She said, sticking out her tongue and smirking at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Thalia laughed before turning back to the group. “My idiot brother aside, we have five snare drums so let’s have… Percy, Leo, Jason can stay, Clarrise and Bianca.” They all made their way up and Thalia handed Percy back the snare. It took a minute for some harnesses to be adjusted. From what Percy could tell, Jason and Clarisse both played snares last year so they were probably guaranteed a spot on the line. The rest of them were up for the same spots, along with a few others sitting down. 

Once they were lined up, Thalia moved to the front of them holding out her sticks in the awkward traditional grip.

“Okay everyone, hold your sticks like this.” She said, looking at each of their hands before she moved over to Percy first. “Here, shift the stick up and keep your middle finger loose and bounce it here…” She moved his fingers around a bit, until they were in something that looked more like what she did but felt even more uncomfortable. 

All the new people had their grips corrected as Thalia stepped back.

“Okay, we’re going to start simple. Jason will count off a tempo, then were going to do 8 4 2 1, then back up. So Eight hits with the right hand, then left, then 4 right, then left hand etc. We’ll do one of each hand twice then go back up. It’s really important to pay attention to your sticking patterns. It makes a very big difference for both practical and showy reasons.” She turned to her brother. “Okay, Jason. Take it slow to start. Like 80 bpm at eighth notes. Here, watch.” 

She said, grabbing Jason’s sticks and doing the pattern on her drum after counting it off.

They all watched closely, except for clarisse who seemed exceedingly bored. Then again, if she had already marched snare he doubted this was even noteworthy. 

“The most important thing is don’t stop if you screw up. I don’t care if you have to stop, take a deep breath, and join back in. Do that, it’s fine. Collect yourself then get back right back on track. This is a test of how well you handle pressure as much as it is how well you can keep a rhythm. “I can fix bad playing, I can’t fix a weak will.” She said. 

“Enough rambling now though. Jason, count it.” 

Jason stood up straight, before counting off a leisurely pace. Percy took a deep breath and prepared. 

It was slow enough, especially after his drumming experience so the first eight hits weren’t bad. They switched the left hand and what was a relatively uniform sound ended up being a disaster. Ever Thalia winced at the sound, but a smile was creeping on her face. “Keep going!” She called out over the drums. “4 now!” The sound was anything but smooth, but Percy pushed on. His left hand was starting to hurt a bit and he couldn’t get a comfortable grip but the pattern wasn’t screwing him up. At least until they got the single notes. He forgot they were supposed to repeat the single notes and fumbled. Pausing, he felt things starting to crash and burn.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Annabeth’s. She made a dramatic motion with her hands of breathing in and out. Percy paused a beat or two, glancing at Jason’s sticks to see him switch. Hopping back in, he hadn’t missed too many notes and Thalia was looking at him with an approving grin. 

Eventually they ended and Thalia was laughing. 

The new people shared some nervous looks, and Thalia raised her hand in apology as he tried to regain her composure. “You guys did fine. But watching you all try to drum with your left hand, your elbows were waving everywhere like chickens. I never get tired of seeing that.”

She said, wiping a tear from her eye. 

Clarisse was snickering too while Jason rolled with his eyes with a slight smile.

“Everyone I teach has to do that their first time. It’s initiation. For now though, everyone can go back to the regular grip. If you march snare you WILL have to learn traditional grip. But I’m more worried about rhythm and pattern right now. “We’ll try it again, and you can stick normally. Except Jason and Clarisse. Don’t get lazy. Accent the switches properly and softer on the off beats.” She said, with a pointed look at the two veterans.

Jason counted it off again, and the sound was much better this time. Even Thalia seemed impressed. 

Percy had been hyper aware of the single note switches so he managed to avoid screwing them up, and being able to stick how he was used to took a lot of the pressure off as well. 

“Good.” Thalia said when they finished. “Looks like you all have rhythm at least.” 

For the next little while, Thalia ran them through another few basic exercises. On one of them, she even had them stand on one foot then switch to test their balance for marching, which Percy was not graceful at in the least. Then she had them sit down and let a few other students come up to try out the snare.

Once everyone who wanted to try the snare went she smiled. “Good job. Now the quads. Frank, if you will?”

A large man walked over wearing that weird set of drums Percy noticed before. It had four large drums in a half circle with two tiny drums on the inside near the harness.

“These are quads. The most melodic of the drums in a sense. The most like a set, but they’re heavy and kind of awkward. A little less flashy, but they have their own kind of presence on the field. Frank, do you remember any of the show last year?”

Frank nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

A wry smile crept across Thalia’s face. “Ma’am? You’re polite. I like that. You got the spot. Sit down.” She said, before laughing. “I’m kidding. Just play what you remember for a bit.”

Frank nodded and counted off a tempo. Percy had to admit, quads were impressive. His hands moved around a lot more than they did with snare. While snare looked super technical, this was different. He was balancing moving to different drums with a smooth tempo. It looked intimidating in its own way.” He finished and looked to Thalia who seemed impressed. “Damn, nice job. You probably won’t have any issue in college if you continue playing. That was solid drumming.”

“Now who wants to give it a try?”

The room looked at each other, everyone nervous after that performance.

Percy considered raising his hand for it, it reminded him of set a bit. 

“You, come up.” Thalia said pointing somewhere behind Percy.

Looking around, he saw Tyler had his hand up. He seemed a little pale, but he had his hand raised. 

Thalia grinned at him. “Don’t worry. Quads are a beast in their own right. Messing up is fine, like I said. Just don’t give up.”

Thalia helped him get settled in the harness, adjusting it to a good height before he stood a little awkwardly next to Frank. Frank gave him a friendly smile, showing him a good place to hold out his arms. 

“We’ll start with the same exercise. Except every time you change numbers, move to the next drum. Frank, show him.”

Frank nodded before playing the same one Percy had started with, but each time he reduced the number of hits he jumped to the next on in the circle before going back up.

Tyler was watching Frank with a deadly focus, his own hands mirroring Frank’s as Frank played. Percy could see Thalia staring at Tyler’s hands too.

“Ready?” She said as Frank counted it off.

Tyler started off pretty smooth, but when he was switching to the double hits, his stick hit in between the drums and you could see the panic set in. He tried to get back on track, but didn’t manage to until they were almost back on the eights. 

The room clapped for him, but Percy was close enough to see how tight Tyler was gripping his sticks out of frustration. “Okay, not bad. Next let-”

“Can we try again?” Tyler blurted out, before his eyes widened. “Sorry.”

Thalia just looked at him for a moment, a grin creeping on her face. “Of course. I like that. One more time, Frank.”

Frank was also grinning. “Yeah.” He counted it off and Percy saw Tyler silently counting with him. He was focusing sharply again and this time he made it through without much issue. Thalia was smirking as they finished. “Much better. Nice focus, kid. Next is..”

Thalia ran him through some more exercises before letting a few other people try. Percy had even hopped up there, but he found he didn’t like quads nearly as much as he thought he might. The drums were low, and the weight was super annoying as it kept pulling him forward. The multiple drums were fun, but it didn’t really have the same vibe as doing a fill on a set.

Eventually everyone who wanted a chance went and she moved over to the last line of drums. 

“These are the bass drums. We have five, some lines have more, some less. This drum is both the most simple, and the hardest. Each drum makes up a part of a group.” She hit the smallest drum, which had a relatively light tom-sounding hit. Then she moved towards the biggest one which had a loud resounding dull hit to it, hitting each one in between. 

“Bass drums have cool fills, but their parts are split between each drum. So excellent rhythm is a must and dedication. You can do cool drum fills on basses, and when a full bass line is in sync, it’s wicked. Seeing five people play the same part split between them is incredible, if not a little under appreciated. But if you screw up it sounds muddy.” She explained. 

“Beckendorf, you were fifth right?”

A large man stood up and made his way over to the biggest bass drum. Percy was genuinely impressed as the man hoisted it over his shoulders and put on the harness. There was no way he could see around it, the top of it went a good foot past his head.

“For this one, we’ll get some people to try it out because it’s a team effort.”

She gathered some students, including a set of twins who all tried it out. Their exercises were similar, switching between hitting the large sides of the drums, then having them try and go up and down the line one at a time on rhythm. Percy didn’t try out for that one, because he didn’t feel confident enough about his teamwork to try and tackle that challenge. A flashy snare fit him much better.

A little while later they all wrapped up and everyone was looking nervous.

“Great job everyone, honestly. I know how scary auditions can be, and the fact you got up here and flailed around is half the battle. The school has a limited number of spots, and I’m going to chat with Chiron a little more before announcing tomorrow. If you don’t get a post, there are plenty of positions open in pit that will need to be filled, and I’m talking to Chiron to see if we can get a Cymbal line going as well. For now though, thank you all for coming and I look forward to working with those of you who make it.” She finished, offering a salute.

Everyone stood up and started murmuring. Around the middle of the bass drum auditions color guard had made their way back in to watch them and Piper made her way to Percy after it was over. 

“How’d it go?” She asked, studying his face for any signs.

Percy shrugged. “I think pretty well. The fact I’ve drummed before definitely helped. Marching seems like it’s going to suck though, those things are heavy and moving around a lot doesn’t sound fun.”

Piper nodded. “It definitely takes some getting used to, but I can help you practice with that. Think you’ll get a spot?”

Percy pulled his beanie back on. “I dunno. That’s up to Thalia. I’m sure Jason will though.” He said, earning a punch in the arm from Piper.

Annabeth made her way over to Percy. “Good job today. You recovered nicely.” She offered

Percy blushed slightly. “Uh… yeah. I meant to say thank you. You helped for sure.”

Meanwhile Piper was looking between the two of them with a growing grin.

Annabeth smiled down at the floor before pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well I hope you make it. I wanna talk to Thalia before she leaves so I’m gonna go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Percy nodded as Annabeth patted Piper on the shoulder and made her way over to Thalia.

Piper gave him the biggest grin. 

“She helped you, eh?”

“Shut up McLean. She just reminded me to breathe.”

“Weird, I thought she took your breath away.” She countered, laughing at Percy’s groan as she started walking out of the room. 

“How’d your auditions go?”

Piper grinned. “I nailed them. It helped I had practiced with Silena over the summer. I think I made it.”

Percy pulled her into a side hug. “That’s awesome! I’m proud of you.”

“When we both make it, we’ll go get pizza to celebrate. My treat. Deal?”

Grinning, Percy nodded. “I don’t think I’ll ever say no to that.”

As they piled into the car, Percy sighed looking out at the darkening sky.

“That was… honestly a lot of fun. More fun than I’ve had in awhile. Thank you Piper, for real. I really hope I can make it.”

Piper just gave him the warmest smile. “I’m proud of you. I know you’ll make it. Otherwise, I can take out whoever else made it and get you a spot.”

Percy laughed as they drove away. It felt like things were finally starting to click in place a little more.

XxXxXxXxX

Thank you for sticking through the chapter! I know it was a long one and kinda dense. I hope it was enjoyable though. And if it wasn’t obvious, I freaking love Thalia. She’s so badass. I hope you enjoyed her too! Thank you for all the engagement with this story, it really does motivate me, even if my time is starting to get limited due to being broke. xD Hopefully I wont have too long of a delay before the next chapter! Just need to plan a little more for it out.

If you want to help me write and paint more please consider checking out either my art commissions HERE or even just buying me a coffee on my Ko-Fi HERE

[cheshiresense]

Hey, speaking of the Aizen/Ichigo time travel notfic, I just want to say I really love the way y ou write Aizen when he isn't just the villain. Like I don't even know why Im surprised, it's /you/, your characterization is always amazing. Do you think you can write a few more snippets or hcs with him and Ichigo? Maybe some interactions or convesations between them? No pressure ofc, thank you for everything youv'e already blessed us with!

Lol thank you! That’s good to hear, I always find flat characters painful to read so I do my best to round them out whenever I can. Aizen was a new one for me, this is the first time I’ve explored his character beyond - as you say - just the villain of the story that’s been defeated or needs defeating.

Here’s two more short scenes in this ’verse. I actually really like this AU, which surprises me because before this, I didn’t have any interest in writing Aizen at all.

Pinglist: @yoshifics @bewarethemandragora @runeofluna @selenedreamwalker @hypnos28 @verticallychallengedintrovert @fandommaniac2401 @lovingempress @cynthia-of-the-wallflowers @shadowsofmoonracer @pairp @warriorofbooks @charlottedabookworm @lyra689 @sheyrenawyrsabane @sora-the-empress @xadriannax @yumeniai @arrysa @lirial89-fanfiction @skysong246 @caiahat @grimreaper19 @arosethornbyanyothername @mtkiseki @kaminoko-x @nesskyru @tatarako @parklena42 @zibeth-a @aerdnanocte @timegrenades @healingmichiko @shiko-rae @soraofmelody @fandoms-make-the-world-go-round @north-peach @yannilicious @wolfsrainrules @franticchanges @tremendouslyminiaturequeen @moon6shadow-main @naramyon @presumenothing @miralifox @nonbinary-hawke @dejunco @yuzukimist @raz-ia @13oddballbooks 

[Dinner]

Sousuke generously reserves a table for two at the sushi restaurant a block down from the Academy. He only has to wait ten minutes before Ichigo slouches into the seat opposite his, looking like every student who’s ever pulled three all-nighters in a row rushing for exams.

Sousuke arches an eyebrow. “I did not think the course load you are taking would be difficult for you.”

Ichigo shoots a glare at him but doesn’t seem to have the energy to hold it for longer than a few seconds before he’s slumping again and reaching for the menu instead.

“The course load is fine,” Ichigo tells him irritably. “But one of my teachers used to be Thirteenth Division and has some stupid grudge against Kaien because Ukitake-san passed him over for lieutenant even though he had a longer tenure than Kaien or something. So he’s taking it out on me by giving me extra assignments out of the blue every week. Says I’ll fail his class if I don’t do them.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I kinda wanna call his bluff, but it’s whatever, I just wanna graduate as soon as possible, and I can deal with a case of asshole. It was just a little tougher lately cuz of midterms but today was my last one anyway.”

Sousuke studies him for a careful moment. “You could mention it to your cousin. I am sure Shiba Kaien would jump to your defense, especially when he is involved.”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I’m not gonna tell him,” Ichigo scowls. “He’ll go charging in and kick up a huge fuss and definitely go overboard defending my honour or some shit. He’ll probably get Hisakawa fired, which I don’t really care about, but he’ll also draw a crapload of attention, and I don’t want anybody tossing words like nepotism and favouritism around. You told me yourself the Twelfth doesn’t seem to have many big clan members, and it’s not exactly a shock that Kisuke chooses people for his Division according to their intelligence. I don’t want him thinking I’m coasting by on my clan’s reputation or something, and that’s exactly what will happen  if I get Kaien to step in for me for every little thing.” He pointedly sticks his menu up between them. “Now can we order already? I literally haven’t eaten anything but instant ramen in a week. I’m getting everything here since you’re paying.”

“Oh I am, am I?” Sousuke enquires dryly.

“I’m poor, deal with it.”

“I am fairly certain your clan would shower you with money if you mention that you need it,” Sousuke points out. “And nobody else would even know if you are so concerned about reputation.”

Ichigo grimaces even as he glances around to catch the waiter’s eye. “Kaien’s already giving me a stipend every month cuz I’m family but I wanna save that for an apartment when I graduate. Besides, I don’t like asking people for money.”

Sousuke gives him a flatly droll look. “And yet.”

Ichigo meets his gaze without hesitation, a smirk curling at his lips, one that teeters between gruff amusement and a reckless sort of mockery. “Consider it payment for creeping on me when I was a kid and then dragging me into a war. You almost killed me multiple times; sushi’s the least you owe me, bastard.”

They pause for a minute to place their respective orders, and neither of them speaks until the waiter is out of earshot again.

“I wonder,” Sousuke murmurs, eyeing Ichigo thoughtfully. “If you blame Urahara Kisuke for ‘dragging you into a war’ as much as you blame me.”

Ichigo snaps his chopsticks and then jabs them at him. “Kisuke apologized. You didn’t.”

“And I never will,” Sousuke agrees, because he won’t, not with any kind of sincerity, and he’s noticed that Ichigo has a knack for picking out that sort of thing. Sousuke isn’t sorry. Perhaps his ambitions and plans gave the boy very little choice in the matter, but at the end of the day, it was still Kurosaki Ichigo who chose to fight instead of bow or run away, and Sousuke can respect him enough as a former formidable enemy to give credit where it’s due.

Ichigo made his choices, just as Sousuke made his own, and they’ll both live with them just the same, good and bad.

“No,” Ichigo acknowledges easily, and Sousuke knows no one else who can say that in this situation with no anger or bitterness, just a resigned sort of acceptance as if he made his peace with this truth a long time ago. Instead, he only points his chopsticks at Sousuke again. “But that’s why you have to pay for my sushi and Kisuke doesn’t.”

Sousuke watches him for a moment longer and idly wonders if he’ll ever understand the kind of person Kurosaki Ichigo is. One day, perhaps, but at least in the meantime, he won’t be bored.

He inclines his head just as the first of their dishes arrive.

“As you say,” He acquiesces, and Ichigo flashes a grin like he’s won something important. Oddly enough, it amuses Sousuke more than anything else. But there are worse things than amusement, and for now, he lets it be.

Well, he lets that be anyway. Ichigo is a… puzzle that Sousuke probably won’t tire of putting together for a good while yet, and that suits him just fine.

On the other hand…

He steps quietly into the classroom, shutting the door behind him. The click makes the man sitting behind the desk at the front look up. “Aizen-fukutaichou? This is… unexpected. Did we have a meeting I forgot about?”

Hisakawa’s confusion is understandable. As far as Sousuke can remember, in both timelines, he’s never spoken to the other Shinigami. Hisakawa was insignificant before - sub-par intellect and mediocre strength, not good for anything but canon fodder, which Aizen had plenty of Hollows for - and he’s just as insignificant now. It’s just that he’s also making a nuisance of himself this time around, which is unfortunate for him.

“Hisakawa-sensei,” Sousuke greets with a pleasant smile as he approaches. “We do not, as far as I am aware. I simply wished to speak to you about one of our mutual students.”

“Oh, well, of course,” Hisakawa frowns quizzically. “Which student are you talking about? Is it a schedule conflict? Those should’ve been ironed out months ago though.”

Sousuke supposes the man gets points for touching on the only problem a student attending both their classes could have. Hisakawa teaches history - a core class - while Sousuke only teaches calligraphy as an elective. They don’t have much else in common.

Then again, if schedule conflicts were ironed out months ago, it obviously can’t be that, and there’s no point bringing it up. Sousuke takes it back. Hisakawa is still just as much of a waste of space as Sousuke has always believed him to be. Honestly, the hiring standards these days. If this was Shiba Kaien’s competition for the lieutenant seat, no wonder Ukitake refused to fill the position with anyone else even if it meant waiting a decade for the Shiba Clan Head to accept.

“No, it is nothing of that sort,” Sousuke agrees. “But it has come to my attention that Shiba Ichigo-kun has been receiving quite a number of… extracurricular assignments from you.”

Hisakawa immediately bristles, and a sneer slashes itself across his face. “Oh, he’s been complaining, has he?”

“He has mentioned it to me,” Sousuke says mildly.

Hisakawa snorts. “I wasn’t aware Shibas even knew calligraphy existed,” He mutters snidely before saying, louder and more patronizing, “You shouldn’t listen to him, Aizen-fukutaichou. You know how Shibas can be, they’re always exaggerating. I’m not giving Shiba more work than he needs. His history marks could use some work, and I’m trying to help. I hear he wants to graduate in a year, and he can’t do that if he fails a core class.”

Sousuke hums a considering note. “He is in danger of failing? How strange. Shiba-kun takes after his cousin, does he not? Another prodigy.”

Hisakawa’s sneer only grows more pronounced. “They give that title to any clan kid these days, it doesn’t mean anything. Trust me, Shiba’s history marks alone will probably see him here next year, especially if he’s going around whining about not getting special treatment.”

Sousuke raises an eyebrow. “I admit, I am rather surprised by that. You see, I have read some of Shiba-kun’s history papers.” He hasn’t had much of a choice. For whatever reason, Ichigo likes working in his office, and he has the strangest tendency to paper his work all over the floor. And paperwork gets boring, and Ichigo’s thought process can be… interesting, even on the most mundane topics. “I am no expert on the subject of course, but from what I could tell, his work is always thoroughly researched and well-written. Perhaps you should take another look.”

Hisakawa’s face turns steadily red, and he pushes to his feet even as he accuses, “So you think just because he has a clan backing him, he should get special treatment too! I thought better of you, Aizen-fukutaichou.”

Sousuke has to suppress a chuckle but amusement slips into his expression anyway, because Hisakawa’s features darken to something downright hostile. “His marks will stay the same. In fact, I might fail him just on principle! I didn’t think Shiba was a coward too, sending another teacher to beg a better grade out of me just because he can’t handle my class.”

Sousuke stares him down for a long unblinking moment, until Hisakawa is almost twitching from the tension stretched between them. Only when the man opens his mouth again, no doubt to splutter out something belligerent, does Sousuke sigh and drop a hand to his Zanpakutou.

“Well, I did try,” He muses, mostly to himself.

He draws his blade. Hisakawa stares and doesn’t even make a move for his own Zanpakutou. What a fool.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Normally,” Sousuke explains courteously. “I would not bother stepping in on behalf of a student, especially when that student would - I dare say - be rather cross with me should he find out. But we have plans to carry out, and I will not allow something so trivial to hinder them.”

Hisakawa gawps at him. How unsightly.

“You need not worry,” Sousuke adds. “You will not remember a thing.”

Finally, Hisakawa reaches for his Zanpakutou, the first blush of alarm rising in his features. “Wait, have you gone insane, Aizen? What do you think attacking me is even going to do? I- I won’t be threatened-!”

“Shatter,” Sousuke cuts him off, smiling benignly even as his reiatsu swells around them. “Kyouka Suigetsu.”

And Hisakawa’s expression goes slack as the hynosis takes hold, slithering into the deepest recesses of his mind.

“You should be honoured,” Sousuke murmurs. “This will be some of my finest work. After all, anything less and Ichigo-kun might notice. And I would rather not be scolded again.”

(This Is A Time Skip But Also Does Tumblr Not Know How To Center Shit)

[Sight]

Sousuke glances up as a shadow passes through his window before returning to his paperwork. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

A disgruntled noise answers him. “Kis- Urahara-taichou is neck-deep in a new experiment; he’s not gonna notice I’m missing for days, never mind one afternoon.”

“And you decided to come visit me?” Sousuke can’t help but find that amusing, considering their past. “How thoughtful.”

He pauses when Ichigo doesn’t snipe something back, as is fairly standard these days. He looks up. Ichigo isn’t even looking in his direction. Instead, he’s still perched on the windowsill, and his gaze is slanted to one shadowed corner  above the bookshelf across the room.

“…Ichigo-kun?”

Ichigo blinks, then turns to him and hops down into the office. “Hey, so, I figured it out,” He says abruptly. His eyes flit around the room again, and Sousuke notices the way they dart from shadow to shadow before finally focusing on him again. “The seeing into their little shadow world thing.”

Sousuke straightens. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ichigo lifts a hand, and pale blue light sparks off his fingertips.

Sousuke stares. How fascinating. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen any other Quincy wield reishi so casually.

“I think I can make it so you can see them too,” Ichigo continues. “I’m gonna have to… fiddle with your eyesight a bit though.”

Sousuke pins him with an assessing look before slowly reaching up to take off his glasses. “If you end up blinding me, I will stab you before you make it out of this room.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, but I’m not gonna do that. Now hold still and close your eyes.”

It takes effort not to flinch, much to Sousuke’s irritation. But the grip he still has around his writing brush tightens anyway when cool fingers touch his eyelids.

It barely feels like anything. There’s a tingle that itches a little, but it’s there and gone within seconds, leaving only an odd chill behind, not unlike getting a cold gust of wind to the face during winter. Ichigo withdraws, and Sousuke opens his eyes.

Nothing looks different. He doesn’t actually need glasses to begin with so everything is clear. He cocks a questioning look at Ichigo, who shakes his head.

“Wait for it,” He murmurs, taking a seat on the edge of Sousuke’s desk and absently shuffling through the top file in the inbox. “They’re not always spying on everyone. But you’re a person of interest to them, you know that, so I think they check in on you pretty often.” He pauses, and his gaze slides across the room before he focuses on the file in his hands again. “Here he comes. Don’t let him see you watching him.”

Sousuke follows his brief line of sight, just in time to see a very familiar blond head bob into view in the shadow cast by the couch set against the wall. It isn’t a very big shadow, a foot high at most, so Sousuke only gets to see the face and part of his neck and a little of the high white collar of his uniform, but it’s enough.

The next second, he’s reaching for one of his books and flipping it open like that was why he looked up from his paperwork at all. But now that he can see that he’s being watched, can sense it even, and so blatantly too, the urge to simply get up and run the Quincy through for his gall is tempting. Only the knowledge that he can’t at the moment stays his hand.

Can he hear us? Sousuke scrawls on a spare piece of paper.

“No,” Ichigo mutters back. “I tested it. It’s like a soundproofed window. I mean, it is now.” He smirks triumphantly out of sight of the Quincy. “Before I figured it out, it was like one of those one-way mirrors. Now we can see them too. But we can’t hear them, and they can’t hear us. They might know how to lip-read though, so be careful anyway.”

Well, obviously. Giving the game away this early would be foolish.

Sousuke watches through his periphery as the Quincy gives them both a last cursory blank look before his head moves out of the shadow and disappears again.

“Jugram Haschwalth,” Sousuke murmurs, surveying his office before turning his attention to Ichigo. “And they can see through every shadow in Soul Society?”

“As far as I can tell, yeah,” Ichigo scowls darkly. “They’re a bunch of regular Peeping Toms.” He grins for a moment, all teeth. “You would’ve made great friends.”

Sousuke narrows a reprimanding look at him. Ichigo just grins wider, not at all repentant, but he doesn’t push further either.

“What should we do now?” He asks instead. “I’m still working on figuring out a way to get through, but at least we can see them. Do we just keep doing what we’re doing and try not to draw their attention?”

“Yes,” Sousuke decides. “But also, mark down who they look in on most, who they consider to be the biggest threats, and who they’ve overlooked but can be threats to them.” He puts his glasses back on. “How long will I be able to see them?”

Ichigo shrugs. “Eh, not sure. You’re my first guinea pig.” Sousuke sighs. At least Ichigo looks a little sheepish now. “We can do a few tests over the weekend or something when I don’t have work. I probably should get back now.”

“I thought you said Urahara wouldn’t notice,” Sousuke says sardonically.

“He won’t,” Ichigo confirms. “But Hiyori will. She’s yelling at the science department at the moment though, and that always takes at least an hour, so I figured I’d take the chance to come show you this-” He waves a hand in the direction of the shadow Jugram was in. “-since I finally got it down this morning.”

Sousuke glances lingeringly at him. You could have waited, he almost says, but the words don’t come in the end, and a moment later, Ichigo is halfway out the window again.

“Anyway, see ya later,” He calls back briskly. “I finally got my first paycheck yesterday so I bought groceries. If you want free dinner, swing ’round my place and I’ll feed you. And we can talk more about the Peeping Toms.”

And then he’s gone in a rush of Shunpo, leaving Sousuke to stare after him, feeling strangely wrong-footed.

But then, Ichigo has a habit of leaving him that way.

Sousuke sighs again, puts it out of his mind, and gets back to work, firmly ignoring the blond-haired spy that sidles back into his office via the shadow in one corner of the ceiling this time.

But he can’t wait until Ichigo figures out a way to get through. He’s chopping the head off of this one personally.

[reddeaddenial]

I love your writing, can you do one for Micah kinda like the other one you wrote on him? Except make him realize his mistake and have a happy ending? I just like to imagine deep down Micah would fall in love. 💗

Micah x Reader Part 2

[Part 1]Word Count: 2158WELP THIS WENT LONGER THAN I MEANT. lol Ok so I tried my best. It got very out of character so please forgive me. It was a bit hard giving this man a heart I hope you understand lmao And I also apologize for the weird ending. If I didn’t cut it off somewhere I would have kept going cuz I have no chill lol

Things were uncomfortably tense at the new camp in Beaver Hollow. Dutch was changing into someone you barely knew and camp was becoming divided, always at each others throats for one thing or another. You for the most part tried to quietly stick to your guard watches and your tent, not that anyone else cared much. They were all wrapped up in their own drama and didn’t have the time or energy to put up the pretenses of friendship and family. Well except for maybe Arthur. The poor man was clearly sick and fading quickly into a shadow of the gunslinger you knew mere months ago. Added with the stress of constantly being hunted and running off to do chores for Dutch, you rarely saw him now.

But you did see one face in camp nearly every day. Ohhh boy did you see Micah fuckin’ Bell, marching around, giving orders like he’s the shiny new second in command. At least that’s how he acted in front of others. He got whatever was needed doing in camp. But when he was alone or no one was looking at him, he would watch you across the way. This unreadable face, but his eyes… You knew his eyes. And they always looked like some scolded puppy looking for reassurance.

Like hell you would. You were done caring about Micah Bell. Or you at least tried to convince yourself you were. Saying one thing was fine, but emotions were choosy about how long they lingered in your poor troubled heart.

You missed him. His teasing smirk and his pretty eyes. You missed messing with that stupid hat of his, pressing it over his eyes and sneaking a kiss after he fixed it. You missed the crude and rough banter you tossed at each other.

You blamed him of course. You fell hard and those fond memories and soft feelings still had your heart in a vice, even after all that drama back in Lakay. You blamed yourself as well, for being so weak as to fall for such a man, a man who should be impossible to love. Yet here you were, back at square one…pining, just like he said. Ugh. What a mess this was.

Micah had… surprisingly followed your words. He didn’t talk to you, kept his distance, never put a hand on you… It was surprisingly respectful for someone like him. But of all times he now had to show respect… Dammit you hated this. You couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him after all the cruel things he said… But you were still mad as all hell. And if he regretted what he had done, even a little bit, you weren’t going to give in. He needed to come to you! You have long grown tired of crawling back to Micah Bell.

It was with great irony after all this self reflection, you had discovered a letter in your bedroll two nights later. Strange. It was addressed to you, but you never wrote to anyone outside of camp. You had no one out there, so why would you get a letter? Maybe it was a note from someone in the gang? You didn’t recognize the writing at all. Letters elongated, tightly snug together to a nearly illegible degree, words every other sentence scratched out in hurried frustration. But as you made it out, things began to fall into place…

Y/N,

You never said I couldn’t write you, so humor me for a moment. I’m so- I’ve done lots of thinking. That’s all I’ve been doing since Lakay. Thinking. Of- You always said I never did enough of it.  Maybe…You’re right. I reckon I can indeed make a fool of myself as you so kindly have reminded me during much of our time together. But I’ve been more than a fool this time. I’ve been blind. Blind and scar dealing with too many problems at once. I took it out on you. I didn’t know how much I was until I was looking down your gun. In that moment I realized something. I didn’t want t-  I’ve chan - I need to -There’s something I’ve been thinking about, that I think would be better fitted in person than a piece of paper. If you can- Tolerate me for a few moments of your time. I’ll be to the West of camp by the river till midnight. Please- Hope to see you there. 

-MB

….

God dammit this was stupid. YOU were stupid! But this was the exact type of sign you were quietly hoping for. Hmph, Hope.

That’s what got you into this mess to begin with. You’d think you would have learned your lesson by now but here you were, quietly making your way down the hill to the river bank. But what could you say? You were curious! Never in your time in the gang have seen Micah pick up a pencil and write, let alone a letter! He put enough effort to be somewhat of an apology and that had you wanting to hear him out, and wring a real apology out of his throat.

“Micah.” You say to the man as you approached the bank of the river in the evening twilight. His back was to you, watching the water, the occasional fish rippling the surface to catch a bug of some sort. Micah turned around the moment he heard your voice. “Y/n…”

You frowned getting a better look at him as you took a few steps forward. He looked exhausted. And serious. His face was strained, like the weight of everything was starting to sink in.“You look like shit Mister Bell.”

That broke the mask of stoicism, huffing a slight laugh and a half smile. Good. You could work with this. You hoped. There you were with the damned hope again.

“Yeah well, I feel like shit Y/n. Ever since Guarma really. And can you blame me? Everythin’s been going to hell.”

“No kiddin’. But I’m guessin’ you didn’t weasel out of my demands I laid down just to tell me about the obvious. Writin’ a letter Micah? Huh, Guess you can be smart when ya wanna be.” “Not where it counts ‘parently.” The blonde outlaw rubbed the back of his neck and looked at the grass by his boots. “You know me… Shit Y/n, you know me more than I know me sometimes. Talk is not somethin’ I’m known to be good at so just… listen ok?”

Well this was surreal. It was a side of Micah you sometimes caught glimpses of when the two of you talked alone. The side that wasn’t constantly antagonizing or plotting. This was… straight up honesty. A scary concept for the both of you. But you kept your mouth shut and nodded, wanting to hear him out. “I am not a good man. I never will be. I’ve done things. Killed things. People. Ruined lives. And I felt nothin’ for ‘em. I still do. And I don’t regret none of it. I’m not. A. Good. Person.” Micah sighed and folded his arms over his chest. “But you make me wanna be.”Your heart stopped at those words. Your breathe stopped. Time stopped. Who was this? Was this real? Was he drunk? Micah carried on, not taking notice of your inner struggle. “You try to see me under all the bad. Finding things about me I never knew was even there. This silver linin’ in everything. Reeling me in when I go too far. Callin’ me out when I get too wrapped up into myself. You’re changin’ me Y/n. Didn’t noticed till I was off on my own with the boys in Guarma. I was back to my old shit and I realized how much I changed before. You… I.. Well as you would say, like the fool I am, instead of trying to understand it, I wanted to run from it. So I.. I said things. So many nasty things to you Y/n. I regret every single one of them. I am, to the bottom of my heart and soul, if I still got any.” You listened intently, focused on every inflection of his tone. There was so much he was trying to say in so little words. Yet it was the most you’ve ever heard him say about what he was feeling and thinking. Typical Micah. You couldn’t help but be awed though. He was a very prideful man, such a massive change in character to his old ways. You knew he was serious about this. Very. But you still had to be sure. “So… You want me to forgive you Micah?”“No.”

Now that shocked you. “No?”

“No. I just wanted you to see in person how much I regretted my actions. But mostly because I need you to-.. I need you to cut loose from the gang and get out of here.”

“….What?!” “Look at me Y/n.” Micah stared right at you. Those pretty eyes you oh so adored that were normally so closed off and wary, were now so open and… vulnerable. “Things… are only gonna get worse with the gang. Bad things are gonna go down and I just don’t want you gettin’ mixed up and killed in all of it. I may have… done something bad before I got to Lakay. Real bad. Stupid. Looking out for myself as usual. I’ll deal with my mistakes as they come. But you don’t need to be punished for it too.” “Micah… What did you do?” “Too much. As usual. But enough of that. Here.” he fished the inside of his jacket and pulled out several hefty stacks of bills. “Not like anyone else is using this anymore. Take it and just leave tonight while everyone’s asleep.”

“Wait…You’re the one who smashed the tithing box.”

“Guilty.” “You stole all the money?!” “Like I said. No one was using it. Have you seen how people been actin’? Why are you acting so damn surprised, you know me.”

“I do…” You looked at the money in Micah’s outstretched hand and gingerly took it. “I… also know that I would never stop caring about you. Wanting you. Hell, I love you Micah bell. I never stopped, like the fool I am, despite everythin’, I damn well never stopped.”

Micah had that same look of shock on his face as he did when you pulled a gun on him during your spat in Lakay. Disbelieving. Denial. “You… You can’t mean that Y/n. I’m not.. Good for you.”“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t mean Mister Bell, I can feel what I damn well please! And I feel that I love you! Accept that as fact.” You had closed the distance between each other, bringing a hand to the side of his face. Micah near reflexively leaned into your touch.

“So I guess you wouldn’t be horribly offended if I reciprocate?” You couldn’t help smiling at that, leaning in to kiss Micah. Your Micah. This was probably the closest you’d ever get to the man saying ‘i love you’. But you enjoyed a challenge. You’d wrangle it out of him in time. Time. That was all they needed. And they wouldn’t get it staying here. You reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, stroking Micah’s cheek gently. He was so different when no one was around, looking at you so gently. “Micah.. Run with me. Let’s take this money and leave.” “Leave!? Y/n, I can’t…Dutch-”

“Yes. Yes you can. Since when has that ever stopped you from doin’ what you want? Forget Dutch. He’s gone crazy anyways. Leave with me. We have some money, and it’ll be easier to get out west if it’s just us. This gang has.. Has condemned itself ever since Blackwater. It’s dyin’ Micah. Let’s not die with it. Please, leave with me. We’re both survivors, we can easily live out there, together.” Together. 

It seemed those last words were all that it took for Micah to consider it seriously. Together. Yes, together you were a force to be reckoned with. Together, you both could survive. After a long pause, eyes distant in thought, Micah took your hand from his cheek and covered it with his own. A look, one you knew when he was up to no good. A smirk, that cocky attitude that made him think he could get away with anything.

“I’ll get the horses ready. You pack what we need.” His answer had you grinning from ear to ear. You gave him a quick kiss and made a dash up the hill back to camp, wanting to get the hell out of here while you could. Your heart was pounding with the thrill of leaving, leaving with Micah. Your Micah. Together you two could survive it all. And lord help anyone who ever got in either of your’s way.

[lostinsantacarla]

A Visitor from SoCal 

Note: Thought I might share a snippet of what we’ve been writing. This story takes place shortly before Mae is introduced to the rest of the Lost Boys gang inside the old hotel. The parts for Mae and Veronica were written by @thesparklingpariah /Marko and David are all mine. ;-)

Mae kept no set schedule, preferring to come and go as she pleased, since the whims of the paying public were extremely fickle. What that meant in English was that she took random days off, depending on how busy things were the day before. Yesterday had been a good day for sales, so she’d decided to treat herself to a day of being lazy, which had culminated in a walk along the pier all the way to the end, just because she felt like it. The breeze was cool this far along the water, and she stood by the railing, her eyes closed as she took it all in. Mae was the only person at the edge; most of the tourists were either heading home or still on the rides. The end of summer meant fewer guests and space was no longer at a premium.

The relative silence was broken by the tide…and the click of heels along the wooden boards. If it weren’t for the wind blowing in just the right direction at just the right time, Mae would have ignored whoever was heading her way, but the scent on the wind made her heart sink to her feet: the sickly sweet smell of decay and the heady florals of Marc Jacobs perfume. Shit. Mae whipped around, coming face to face with a woman she hoped to never see again: Veronica, “daughter” of Miguel, third-in-command of the Los Angeles coven. Her ex-girlfriend.

“Hello, sweetie.” Veronica purred, her deep, rich voice curling around Mae’s ears like a cat. She’d never trusted cats.

“Veronica. I assume this isn’t a friendly visit?” Mae growled, sticking her hands in her pockets. She wrapped her hand around her switchblade.

“Just here to see how you’re doing.” Veronica shrugged, her own hands in her Armani jacket. Despite the strong breeze, she looked perfectly unruffled.

“You mean you’re here to see if I’m still alive.”

“Precisely.”

Marko had just punched out for the night, his jacket hanging haphazardly over one shoulder as he slipped out the back doors and into the narrow, makeshift alley behind the Seabreeze.

His pockets were full of dough, tips from the many patrons he’d served, and the dollars kept falling out, even after he’d secured the colorful garment over both shoulders. It put a smile on his face as he bent down to pick them up one by one, chasing after a couple as the breeze from the ocean tried to sweep them away.

One foot stepped out of the shadows and his keen ears caught the echo of voices in the opposite direction. One was familiar, and he straightened, sniffing the air.

He’d only scented Mae once, but he never forgot it, and knew right away that one of the figures was her. The second, another female, was not human at all, but it was not one of theirs. This was cause for concern. It seemed that even with all of Dwayne’s efforts, their borders kept getting breached.

He growled, shaking his head as he turned and made haste, cursing his beloved town for always stirring things up when all he wanted to do was smoke a joint with Paul, get some fresh blood in his gut, and then head on over to Cassidy’s.

He slowed as he neared the two, getting a good eyeful of the other female, just to make sure he knew what he was up against. Then with a smile that could melt the panties off a human woman, he sauntered up. “Evenin,'” he greeted, taking a firm stance in front of them, while managing to keep it somewhat congenial by sticking his hands in his loaded pockets.

Veronica’s gaze could seduce both men and women, regardless of their preferences, and then stab them in the alley and take all their money. A hint of malice lay behind her eyes; Mae was sure that Veronica expected her to be the same weak-hearted girl she was when Veronica dumped her. Mae refused to be cowed. Those days were over.

“Well, here I am. ALIVE.” Mae looked down her nose at Veronica, her posture rigid. Túlio had spent weeks trying to teach her poise and elegance so she could fit in with the “posh” sides of vampire society, and that included how to stare down an enemy when you couldn’t kill them. She wasn’t sure it was working.

“That you are, sweetie.” Veronica laughed, the sound deceptively gentle.

“So what are you going to do now?” Mae raised an eyebrow, mentally back again in the trenches of the L.A. vampire world.

Before Veronica could speak, Marko appeared out of nowhere, seemingly. Mae felt a bit of relief; they’d only met once, but he was one of David’s men, and that meant protection, or at least, someone to keep an eye on Veronica. The woman in question turned to face him, sniffing haughtily at him.

“And who are you?” Her voice dripped with disdain. “Who do you serve?”

One of Marko’s eyebrows shot straight up at the nerve of this vampire in his town, asking HIM who he was and who he served, so naturally, he turned cheeky and his grin went from ear to ear.

“Satan. Hell… but mostly, I serve myself.” It didn’t seem like his grin could get any bigger, but it did, taking on that Cheshire cat presence before he spoke again. “Oh, and uh, sometimes when I’m feelin’ nice, the newbie’s like Mae, who might need a hand. ‘Cuz you just never know when some stray mutt is gonna come wandering into town, ya know?”

He shrugged, but even in that smile his expression changed. It challenged the newcomer, the intruder, and he changed his position, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans.

Mae wasn’t sure if Veronica would put up a fight, but if she did, and Marko won, that could mean trouble for Santa Carla. Miguel, like all the older vampires she knew, was a vindictive son of a bitch. She projected her thoughts towards Marko as best as she could, hoping that Veronica was too caught up in herself to pick up on what Mae was doing.

Don’t kill her! It’ll just cause trouble. Her father’s the leader of the Los Angeles coven, and there’s hundreds of them!’ Mae hoped it would come across clearly. She did her best to look calm, but she was barely keeping herself from shaking in rage and panic. Being confronted with a visual and verbal reminder that she’d been sent away to die (with her best friend in the world seemingly kept in the dark about it) destroying what little calm she ever had around Veronica before this.

“Very funny, little man. Are all you backwater vampires like this, or are you just a special case. Who. Do. You. Serve?” Veronica repeated haughtily.

“They don’t play that game out here, Veronica.” Mae tried to stop her ex from further antagonizing Marko, but she knew it was no use.

Marko shrugged carelessly, making it obvious that he was hearing something coming out of Mae’s mind. He had no intention of killing anybody in front of him, but he damn well wasn’t going to put up with the prissy, higher than thou attitude.

He kept quiet for a little while longer, starring down Veronica to see how pissed off she could get, all the while sending out a mental alert to David.

“Actually, I think we should turn this around. You can start by telling me who YOU serve and why the hell you’re running around my town acting like the Queen of fucking Egypt.”

“Veronica, daughter of Miguel, ruler of the Los Angeles coven and son of Dracula.” Veronica grinned, acting as if she’d drawn four aces in the world’s most unfair poker match. Mae wanted to smack her ex upside the head, but she DID recall that she was kind of like that too when she’d first met Marko. Still, that had been about survival, not showing someone up.

“I told you, V, they don’t play that game here. Names don’t mean anything.” Mae sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Look, you’ve gotten what you came for, okay? I’m still alive, I plan on staying alive, and if Miguel wants me dead, he better come up with a better way of doing it than this. Túlio will find out about all of this sooner or later, you know that, right? I know Miguel likes to make things into a telenovela, but this is getting old. Take your bitch ass home and leave me alone!” She snarled, her anger finally winning out over her good sense.

SMACK!

A loud slap rang across the pier as Veronica’s open palm connected with Mae’s cheek. “How DARE you speak of my father so poorly? And what is that you called me, Mae? A bitch? Sweetie, you think that’s an insult to me?” She sneered. “Remember your place.”

Marko didn’t get a chance to react. All he saw was a glimpse of something moving fast out of the corner of his eye and a savage roar, and he knew it was David.

The leader of the Santa Carla pack snarled and grabbed hold of the outsider, throwing her with ease down the length of the pier without care.

It was late enough now that no one would notice the scuffle, at least no human would.

He said nothing, but pulled Mae up behind him and took a hard stance, ready for anything this Veronica was willing to throw at him.

“You’re out of line.” His voice was deep and heavy and louder than usual. “You have no place here, and your filthy hands don’t belong anywhere on something that belongs to me now. You got a problem with that, crawl back to the one who sent her here to die.”

Now it was on, and Marko put on his game face. He didn’t change into the monster that he was, but he stood his ground beside David and Mae, looking down the pier to where the fallen lay.

He chuckled in spite of himself, eyeing Mae behind David and winked at her.

Veronica had no time to brace for the blow or dodge it, something the vampire wasn’t used to. She landed in a heap at the end of the pier, her face and any bare skin scraped from the force of the impact. Despite being dazed, she leapt to her feet, reeling from the blow. Her forte was speed and cunning; she stood no chance against a vampire that was this strong… and this angry, especially when he had an ally with him. Veronica considered drawing her knife, but she was above all else a survivor. Tonight wasn’t her night to die.

“So… I assume YOU’RE the one he serves. David, wasn’t it? We heard about you. Had a little trouble a few decades ago, right? You’ve recovered nicely. Congratulations.” She spat the blood out from her mouth where she’d bit into her cheek during her fall.

Mae placed her hand on David’s lower back, the gesture out of sight of Veronica, but she was sure Marko saw it. She was silently asking him to hold back. She nodded at Marko, then stepped to the left so she could see Veronica better. Her cheek was bright red.

“Go home, Veronica.” She growled, keeping her head held high despite the pain. “Tell Miguel to leave me alone. Túlio’s a good man; if Miguel wants to make him a psycho like you, he’ll never succeed. Tell him I’m staying here, in Santa Carla. He can have L.A.”

“… Got yourself a new boyfriend, huh?” Veronica sneered, deciding to throw in one last dig at Mae. “Or is this just an arrangement, huh? You always were a little slut.” She laughed, turning her attention to David. “You can keep her…for as long as it lasts. Miguel wants her dead, and Father always gets what he wants.”

Marko felt the air lighten around them as soon as Veronica departed and he blew air through his lips while running a hand through his messy curls. “Just another night, huh boss?”

David turned to Mae and cupped both her cheeks in his gloved hands, gently brushing over the red spot with his thumb. “You could say that,” he said to Marko. “We need better security around here.”

“Dwayne’s messing up? He’s gotten busy, what with a kid on the way.”

“Nah. I can’t expect him to keep his eyes on every single foot of ground we have here. It’s too vast. We’ll need to think of something else from now on. There’s too many coming through.” For a second he looked out to sea and then down at Mae. “You all right?”

“I will be.” Mae nodded, her voice shaky, just like the rest of her. She was doing her best to fight of the urge to cry, but her eyes were watering and her body was shivering. The adrenaline from the hit and the potential fight was beginning to wear off, and she finally felt the sting from the slap. She wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling, but anger was definitely warring for the top spot, followed closely by an utter breakdown. She hoped anger won.

She took a deep breath, then turned to face Marko. “Thank you. For helping me.” Mae didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Marko hadn’t come by.

“Yeah you owe me.” He jerked his head up and grinned. Of course he was teasing, but she was still new, and he couldn’t let her get off that easy. Besides, breaking the tension was the name of the game. He pulled a small bottle of rum from the inside of his jacket and offered it to her. “It’ll help take the edge off. Trust me. Still cold too, if ya just wanna hold it against your cheek.”

“Marko,” David warned, but he was only half serious. He wanted to brush it off as a victory, but there were too many things weighing on him now, even if the threat of a war with the vampires in LA was minimal compared to the angels ready to reign in hell and unleash it on Santa Carla.

Mae laughed it off. “Sure thing. Come by the booth. I’ll give you the friends and family discount.” She winked, taking the rum and drinking a mouthful before putting it on her face. “Damn, that feels good.”

After a few moments, she handed it back to Marko. “Don’t want it getting too warm.” She really wanted to lean into David and take a moment to collect herself, but she wasn’t sure he would welcome it in front of one of his men. Instead, she scrubbed at her eyes and glared at the empty end of the pier.

“You can see why we broke up.”

“She’s full of herself,” was all David had to say about that.

Marko nodded and took the bottle back before giving Mae a ‘see you later’ salute and headed on his way. He could tell by the look on David’s face that he needed a few moments alone with Mae.

After Marko was out of sight, he turned to Mae and examined her cheek a little closer. Considering the hit was from another vampire, the impact was a little more damaging than just a mortal’s slap. “You should put some ice on that. Or I could fix it for you right now. I just want you to know that I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe here, and now. I’d like to take you to our home tonight. If you’re willing to come.”

“THAT is an understatement.” Mae huffed, rubbing at her cheek.

She waved at Marko, watching him go until David faced her once again. Her first instinct was to blurt out something mushy, like ‘I’d go anywhere with you’, but luckily she saved herself from looking like an idiot. Still, she blushed a little, resting her hands on his waist. She was still fighting off tears, but she ignored them for now.

“Could you fix it, please?” She asked, smiling softly. “And yes. I’ll come home with you.” Then, she remembered something, and her grin became a strange mix of teasing and adoring.

“So… I belong to you now?”

David simply pierced the pad of his thumb with the extension of one of his claws and when a bead of his blood pooled there, he gently smeared it across her cheekbone, making sure it absorbed thoroughly before answering her. The effects of its healing ability would be instant and the pain would disappear.

He had noted her smile, acting as if it was nothing, something that important, even though it was. Getting a rise out of her was fun, and he pushed the moment to the point of no return, when there was no other choice but to answer. It was just like sex, letting the pleasure build until all there was left was an explosion that took you above the clouds and to the stars.

“Would it be a problem if I said you did?” He pulled his hand away from her cheek to admire his handy work. “I press the point of taking this slow, but you’re here now, and I just threatened another pack member’s existence, all for you.” Now he looked her directly in the eyes, his expression complete business. Yet behind that crystal blue there was an undenying look of need. “You are mine now, aren’t you?” Would he let her go even if she said no? Probably not.

Mae met his gaze, her own softening when she saw the deeply hidden need. He wanted her, and she wanted him. She’d wanted him since she met him, not just because she was lonely, but because he was so enchanting. Dark and brooding, like many of his kind, but also secretly gentle and caring, if you’d earned it. He’d nearly killed for her. He didn’t care what her connections were or where she came from, but who she was. She wanted him forever.

She’d be damned if she let him go.

“I was yours the moment I followed you out of the bar. You earned me when you didn’t care about who I knew, but who I am.” She smiled, the gesture no longer burdened by pain or fear.

“I’m yours, David. And you’re mine, aren’t you?”

There was a little hesitation on his end, only because sentimental words weren’t his forte and he was still afraid to make a mistake, yet as the notary he’d already signed and closed the deal.

He offered her his hand, palm side up, like an old fashioned gentlemen. “Down to the last detail,” he said with an earnest grin.

Mae laughed in delight, all the turmoil of the day forgotten as she took his hand.

“Good.”