#I’m very fortunate that I have the opportunity to quit my job

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

You know recently I’ve had a little bit of a break through in that I don’t need to really tell anyone my reasoning behind somethings

Like with my current job. It doesn’t serve me anymore, doesn’t make me happy, it has no use and quite frankly makes me miserable so I’m quitting but no one needs to know those things

I can just tell them I don’t like it anymore and that’s it. If you judge me for it then that’s your problem

[notjustjavierpena]

Routine

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Hi everyone! I told you that I had a hubby-treat for you, and it is finally here. I’m very excited to share this one with you as it is something that I’ve gotten a ton of requests for. You love the simplicity of domestic life, so here’s the life of Los Peñas after you’ve begged to see what their routine looks like.  Like always: A huge thanks to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for being a patient, sweet and talented beta-reader.

Summary: A day in the life of Javier Peña and his growing family. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18, MDNI, hubby!javi’s POV and introspection, pregnant reader, pregnancy symptoms, family dynamics, domestic routines, tooth-rotting domestic bliss, siblings being siblings, married banter, heart-to-hearts, references to Reassess, family conflicts, casanova!javi turned oblivious!javi, javier with a baby needs a warning, handsy and  inappropriate!javi, mention of javier’s mother, baby scan talk, hubby being a DAD!, couch cuddles (with and without kids), sex toys (not explicitly a rose but something along the lines, and while I know we are in the 00s, let’s pretend that sucking toys and cordless toys were a thing for the sake of the story), f masturbation, pregnancy sex, consent king javi, teasing, light dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, light verbal humiliation, nipple play, nipple orgasm, overstim, intense sex, multiple orgasms, m masturbation, wife is an insatiable brat and a screamer, slight dacryphilia, piv sex, rough sex, breeding kink, creampie, slight subdrop, lots of praises and aftercare, baths and hair washing,  

Word count: 17.2k (sorry)

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56355349

Routine

Javier’s alarm goes off at 6:30 AM each morning. He breathes deeply in through his nose as he is woken by the beeping sounds of his alarm clock, pulls his arm out from under the covers where it is wrapped around your waist, and moves it to the button on top of the device. He fumbles to find it for a moment, ending up smacking his hand into the plastic with a grunt. 

You stir beside him when he falls back down on his back. He rubs his eyes until he sees fireworks behind his lids, moving the hand down to smooth his thumb and forefinger along his mustache. 

“It’s 6:30,” he then tells you, reaching for your shoulder to shake you gently until you whine a no and cover your face with your arms. He smiles as your half-asleep state makes you no better than his only daughter, “Come on, mi amor (my love). Another day.”

“Thank God, it’s Friday,” you mumble, “One more wake-up routine and I might leave to start a new life as an actually interesting person, maybe a psychic woman.”

“Telling fortunes?” He muses with a goofy smile even if you cannot see him. He reaches to pull your arms away, “C’mon now.”

“Yes, maybe,” you give in and sit up, resting your folded hands on top of your pregnant belly, “The spirits are telling me that you are waking up the queen of this household. I’ll take Seb later.”

You are still on leave after giving birth to Sebastian but after Javier has started his new job, the both of you have discussed the idea of you being a stay-at-home mother for some time after the twins have been born too. You do most of your work on your computer anyway, and if you quit your job, there’ll be plenty of opportunities to do some freelance stuff for extra income. Javier isn’t over the moon about you playing the part of the cherry-pie-making housewife but you reason that you only get to experience the kids as kids once which he can’t argue with (especially not when he chose a different job for the exact same reason).

“You sure have a gift, all-seeing wife,” Javier nods in agreement and kisses your lips even as you say you have a terrible case of morning breath. Then, resting on his hands, he bends down to kiss your stomach too, “Anything else Mamá wants?”

“Can you make breakfast?” You blink prettily, “I’ll do school lunches and coffee.”

“Sure,” he leans over you and smirks when your noses bump together, “How do you want your eggs? Except fertilized, obviously.”

“Javi,” you scold but giggle and initiate a kiss anyway. He kisses you longingly because he hasn’t for eight long hours of sleep. When he pulls back, heat has risen to your cheek, “Just scrambled.”

“You got it,” he moves and gets out of the bed. It is 6:36 AM now and he calculates the time he’ll have to wake up Inés as well as make breakfast if he needs to get in the shower before leaving too. He doesn’t have to stress.

“And Javi?” You call from the bed. 

He turns around in the doorway to the master bathroom, “Yes?”

“Good morning,” you beam. 

“Good morning, baby,” he smiles.

He takes a quick moment to wash his face, leaving the door open so you can run back and forth to pee the million times that you need to each morning. He doesn’t say anything, just listens to you moving around as you brush your hair and put on soft sweatpants. He tries to imagine what you’ll be wearing when he sees you later because you always shower after sending him and the children out of the door. He hopes that you will wear your blue sundress now that it's warmer than ever. 

When he emerges from the bathroom to plan what he is going to wear for the day, you are already gone and he can hear the radio playing music in the kitchen. He revises his material for today’s lecture about criminal behavior as he takes a white shirt off its hanger and reaches for a pair of dress pants, but he can barely concentrate when he cannot wait to see you downstairs.

Finishing up his little routine, he walks out of the bedroom and down the hallway upstairs. He knocks once on Lucas’ door before peeking into the room, “Let’s go, muchacho (young man).”

Lucas passes him a moment later, fully dressed and with his school bag over his shoulder. He looks so grown that Javier wants to topple over, “Morning, mijo (my son).” 

“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m up,” he smiles. 

Javier raises a brow, “I can see that. Thanks for making my life easier. I’ll go wake up la monita (the little monkey) then.” 

He continues to Inés’ room. She has not woken up yet, deep asleep with the covers half on the floor. She is lying on her stomach with her arms above her head, her mouth agape as she snores gently, her hair an unruly mess, and her pajama top askew on her back. 

He crouches down by her bed and runs a hand over her back, speaking softly as he wakes her up with the intention of not accidentally startling her, “Inés, mi niña (my girl), it’s time to wake up.”

It takes a whole minute for her to escape the land of the sleeping and release the clutch on her pillow. She furrows her brow, yawns animatedly, and rubs her eyes with her tiny fists in the same way he does every day. 

“There she is,” he smiles, “It’s almost seven, we gotta get up for school.” 

“I don’t wanna,” she complains with a pout and earns a gentle hand running over her hair. She buries her face further into the pillow and looks like she’s already about to turn to her weapon consisting of crocodile tears. 

“I don’t want to either but Mom is already packing your lunch. Don’t you want to see Ava and Jacob?” He helps her sit up, trying to distract her from her tantrum. 

“Ava says her mom is sad,” Inés shakes her head but the accidental opportunity to talk about her troubles makes Javier able to undress her without much fuss. He gives her a sympathetic look. Mira, Ava’s mother, is still divorcing her husband Jonathan, and it is the first time that Inés has been confronted with the idea that not all parents stay together. He nods in understanding, “But Ava says that her mom is the one who didn’t want to be with her daddy anymore.”

“Sometimes you can be sad even if it’s a choice you make yourself,” Javier explains as he gets her out of bed, kneeling in front of her on the floor to help her into her underwear and bottoms. He pulls them up over her hips, “Maybe she thought it was nicer to leave so she could not make him sad again.” 

Inés listens to his explanation but just as she is about to nod, she frowns and shakes her head instead, “That’s stupid. Mommy says that you stay and talk about things when you are sad.” 

Javier pauses with the blouse you chose for her yesterday in his hands, trying to find the correct way to explain why adults act the way they do to his daughter. It’s so early in the morning and she had barely been awake two minutes ago. He takes a deep breath before speaking, "Well sometimes grown-ups have disagreements or feelings that are hard to understand, and when those feelings become too strong, they might decide that it's best to be apart instead of being sad together."

Inés furrows her brow even more but raises her arms up in the air to let him pull the blouse over her head, “Is Ava sad too?" 

Javier pulls her arms out of the sleeves and brushes her hair out of her concerned and skeptical face, "Ava might be feeling sad right now too but she has her friends, you for example, and her family to cheer her up, just like you have me and Mamá.”

Inés falls into him and hugs him, giggling as he picks her up and purposely turns her the wrong way around in his arms until she tells him off with a squeal. She throws her arms around his neck when she finally sits on his hip and kisses his cheek, "I'm glad I have you, Papá. I love you!" 

Javier vows that he won’t cry from emotion so early in the morning. He is worse than you sometimes when it comes to these things, chest constricting as tears well up in his throat, “I wouldn’t know what to do without you, mi amor (my love). Let’s go get breakfast before we do your hair. How do you want it?”

“Pigtails,” she decides loudly as they leave the room. 

Downstairs, Lucas has chosen cereal for himself and is reading the comic he got last month at the dining table. Inés says hello to him from her seat on Javier’s hip, and he waves back at her until she giggles and hides her face against her father’s shoulder. 

Javier carries her to you as you cut carrot and cucumber slices for her lunchbox. You turn to them. 

“Morning, Mamá!” She chirps happily and you give her a kiss. 

“Hi, baby,” you reply and notice the faint traces of tears in the corner of Javier’s eyes. You raise your brows, “Did you give your dad any trouble?” 

“We had a little chat about Mira and Jonathan,” he explains quickly and stuffs a carrot in Inés’ mouth before walking to plop her down on a dining chair. Inés chews and immediately gets enchanted by her older brother, looking at the pictures of Spiderman on the pages in front of them while asking him to explain. 

“Are you okay?” You put a hand on his arm, rubbing affectionately all the way up to the back of his neck. He reaches to put his hand on top of yours and smiles reassuringly.

“Just got a love declaration of the ages,” he explains before letting go. He moves to open the fridge and calculates the amount of eggs he’ll need. 

“Ahh, sentiment,” you say with a knowing smile. Without a word, you get a pan out for him and place it on the stove, working with him in a symbiotic manner that he grows more and more fond of with each passing morning you spend together as a family. 

He cracks the eggs out into a bowl to make sure there are no shells and then starts scrambling them whilst you click the button on the coffee machine. Soon, the delicious smell of fresh coffee and breakfast fills up the room and you open a window to let the sound of chirping birds join the music on the radio. 

“Eat up, we’re leaving in 45 minutes,” he places the plate in front of Inés and kisses her hair. She takes the fork you bring a second after and stabs the eggs with determination. 

She chatters excitedly about the plans for her day between bites of eggs and looks outraged when Lucas occasionally steals a piece from her plate. He makes a peace offering by moving his chair closer to hers so he can hold the comic in front of them both. 

Javier goes to pour coffee into his favorite mug whilst you have tea and you eat the rest of the scrambled eggs directly from the pan together with him. He admires you whilst you rest against the kitchen table, having a conversation with your kids whilst nourishing your twin babies. 

As the comfortable morning routine proceeds, he catches your eyes from across the room and you smile so tenderly each time. Rays of sunlight are coming in from the window, dancing over the fabric of your comfortable clothes and making your already glowing skin glow even brighter as you hold the mug of tea in both hands. He knows how lucky he is to have this life with you after the chaotic years of his youth. Who knew that life could start when one thought it was over?

He recalls the very first time he laid eyes on you and how he knew he wanted to marry you by the end of the night (you still don’t believe this). He remembers thinking that he didn’t deserve a life with you and all the love you brought with you, remembers how you said that the only thing that mattered was whether he wanted it or not. He has never once wavered from this want since you allowed him to kiss you for the first time. 

Lost in thought, he almost doesn’t realize that you have started to move around the kitchen to clear the table and stuff the lunchboxes into each respective school bag. He takes a brief moment more to longingly gaze after you. 

You are so graceful in your fourth pregnancy even if you deny it each time he compliments you, your stomach a bump so round and plenty visible already. The both of you are nearly four months into what has been the biggest shock of your lives. All the time, he thinks back to how difficult it was to conceive the first two of his kids and feels a tug in his chest of endless gratitude for being a father. 

He could never describe the flood of pride that had erupted in his heart when he went from being a father of three to suddenly being a father of almost five in a matter of a single second you spent together in an ob-gyn's office on a regular Tuesday morning. He remembers seeing your overwhelmed and tear-stained face when you had thrown yourself back into the examination chair with simultaneous happiness and panic flashing in your eyes. The babble of words was barely comprehensible but they made him kiss your eyelids until you gave him a smile. 

He had called you his very best girl when the doctor had left to give you both a moment of privacy, held your trembling hand, and told you that he would be right there with you every step of the way, which seemed to calm you instantly. He is grateful that he has that effect on you just as you have the very same effect on him. He knows he can never feel what it’s like to bear children but he knows that every fiber of his body tells him that he will never allow you to be scared if he can help it.

These days, he won’t even allow you to be exhausted either which is why he picks up Inés from her seat again and carries her upstairs to the bathroom. When pregnant, you always pack the car with Lucas instead of walking around with your preschooler on your hip. 

“Right,” he hooks a foot around the leg of the stool underneath the sink and drags it out so Inés can stand on it. She grabs the edge of the sink and makes a face in the mirror now that she’s tall enough to admire herself, “Pigtails, wasn’t it?”

Inés nods eagerly when Javier gets out the box of hair ties from underneath the cabinet next to the sink, “I want the Minnie Mouse bows.”

“Excellent choice,” Javier praises as he reaches for her hairbrush too. He combs her hair, starting at the bottom and gradually going upwards just like you have taught him the second that he became a father to a little girl. You had even made a hair boot camp, sitting on the couch and nursing Inés whilst he practiced a few different hairstyles that you would rate on a scale of one to ten. 

He parts Inés’ hair down the middle and starts with the right pigtail, gathering all the hair in his hand with the help of the brush. His daughter grimaces at the slight tug but then her face lights up as she remembers something.

“Daddy! Mommy says I have to do my daily affirmations before school!” She beams at him in the mirror, excited because complimenting herself clearly makes her feel good. Javier cannot believe how fantastic of a mother you are because it would have never even occurred to him that this was the simplest way of teaching his children to be kind to themselves. 

“Alright, let’s hear them, mija (my daughter),” he says and finishes the second pigtail. He takes a step back, holding his daughter’s head in place like you have taught him to make sure the hairstyle is symmetrical. Satisfied, he looks at the digital clock on top of the cabinet. He figures they can spare the two minutes it takes. 

Inés looks herself in the eye when he has let go of her again. She straightens her back like she has seen cartoon characters do, admiring her reflection, and starts reciting with a big smile on her little face. 

“I am smart.”

Yes, she is. Sometimes too smart for her own good. Javier smiles. There’s a pause. 

“I am brave.”

The bravest.

“I have good ideas—“ she halts, turning around to look at him with a frown as if it wouldn’t have the same effect if she had simply sent him the look through the bathroom mirror, “Daddy, you have to say it too.”

She watches him expectantly and he cannot bear to let her down even if he feels slightly embarrassed to talk so highly about himself out loud. He takes a deep breath, a weird feeling in his chest as he meets his own gaze, “I am smart. I am brave. I have good ideas.”

“Good, Daddy!” Inés radiates joy and sports a big toothy grin. She says another one, “I can say no.”

Javier doesn’t catch on to the fact that he has to keep going. Inés turns around to him again with her hands in her sides, “Now you say it, Daddy!”

“Inés…” He chuckles and feels slightly apprehensive. Vulnerability isn’t something he is insecure about but the act of openly saying such nice sentiments to himself hits a nerve somewhere in his chest, imitating a feeling of performance anxiety that he only recognizes from the times he has gone to an exam. 

“Mommy says it makes us feel good inside,” Inés doesn’t let it go, dragging out the minute that he has put aside for this. He knows there’s no way around this and he knows that you would tell him to lead by example. He pretends to cough in an attempt to hide his hesitation, knowing that his confidence and self-love will only fuel his children’s. What more could he want as a father?

“I can say no,” he tells his reflection.

“I can do hard things,” Inés continues. Javier repeats it.

“I am a good friend,” she proudly voices and he hugs her from behind to parrot each word, tightening his arms around her more and more until eventually, he tickles her when she has said her last sentence, “I am loved. There’s no one I would rather be than myself.”

She squeals with delight and slight panic, laughing in his arms in the loud and free manner that only a child can. He gets filled up with warmth and baby fever, trying his hardest to compose himself since they have to leave soon even if he just wants to keep going. 

“Time to brush your teeth and pee before we leave, monita (little monkey),” he tells her and she follows through without any protest. 

When he has told her to help you finish packing her bag, he gets his clothes from the bedroom and gets in for a quick shower. He washes his hair and body, scrubbing his beard with his fingers while revising his material one last time. 

At last, he stands in front of the mirror, putting on his watch, buckling his belt, and fixing the collar of his crisp white shirt. He finishes with his cologne, shaking his sleeve upward on his arm after brushing his teeth to check the time. 7:37 AM.

“Do you have everything?” You ask when everyone is back in the kitchen again.

“I hate leaving you alone all day,” Javier mumbles as you hand over his bag along with Inés’ school bag. Despite Javier’s hands being full, you still place your palms on his chest and kiss him on the mouth.

“Then stop getting me pregnant,” you whisper against his mouth. 

“But it’s just so fun,” he notes and kisses you a few times more when you try to pull away, “They should stop making it so fun. You should stop making me feel so good.”

“Dad,” Lucas interrupts you with a grimace, “We’re gonna be late.”

“Alright, out the door, all of you,” you scratch Javier’s chest briefly before walking out of the room to the front door. You hold it open and watch the three of them scuttling out of the house. Javier wants to count the hours before he gets to see you again.

“And remember, Daddy’s picking you up after school today!” You yell from the door and he turns to walk backwards to the car with a grin on his face. He hears Inés cheer at this fact and secretly, he wants to cheer himself because he never gets to do it. You have an appointment with your ob-gyn doctor later to check if everything is alright with the babies, something they have insisted on since they found out there were two. He’ll have to leave work early but it’ll give him more time with his children in the afternoon. 

He checks each of their seat belts to make sure they’re secure, hesitating for just a second as he gets ready to close the car door, “Hands inside the car, c’mon.”

Inés throws her palms up and he pushes the car door shut with a smile before walking around the front, tapping the hood with his knuckles and waving at you one last time. You smile widely and mouth that you love him. You close the door, and he only starts the car when he sees you in the kitchen window. 

—

The car ride to school is fairly short but it consists of Javier listening to a lot of happy chatter about nothing from Inés in the way only a four-year-old can do. In the ten minutes it takes, he manages to answer questions about why the sky is blue, why there’s no such thing as dragons in Texas, if there are twin ladybugs just like there are twins in your tummy, and if she can try driving the car later. 

Lucas only joins in when she asks whether they can get a dog. He grabs at the back of his father’s seat and lifts himself as far forward as the seat belt will allow only to get told to sit back down. 

“A dog is a big responsibility, you know,” Javier swings the car into a parking spot. He looks back over the seat after turning off the engine, “Mommy and I have you and Seb to take care of, and the twins eventually too.”

“Nunca vamos a tener un perro (we’re never gonna get a dog),” Lucas grumbles and throws himself back into the seat. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out the window. 

“Never?” Inés’ eyes widen.

“Oye, eso no es lo que dije (hey, that’s not what I said),” Javier replies, pocketing the car keys, “I’m just saying that we’ll have our hands full soon.”

“That’s not my fault and I didn’t even want more siblings,” Lucas says under his breath and Inés squirms in her seat at the tension in the tiny space. 

“Hey, that’s not fair. I don’t want you saying things like that,” Javier says firmly. 

Lucas huffs. For once, Inés is quiet. 

“Look at me,” Javier tells him and his son reluctantly finds his gaze again, “We don’t talk about each other like that and we especially don’t make each other feel unwanted.”

There’s a painful mixture of shame, vulnerability, and frustration on the eight-year-old’s face, “I know, Dad, I’m sorry… it’s just that sometimes it feels like I’m the one who has to always give up what I want.”

Javier knows the irony of his previous statement as soon as he hears those words. Accompanied by the look he receives from his son, it’s enough to make him swallow thickly, “I’m sorry, mijo (my son). I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

There’s a pause. Lucas starts to open the door, “It’s okay. I know that you’re right and a dog won’t be happy if we don’t have time for it. That’s what Mom says anyway.”

He gets out and Inés finally pipes up when they’re alone. She frowns and looks out the window to watch Lucas stand with his hands clutching the straps of his bag, “Can’t we just have a little dog?”

“I have to talk to Mom about it,” he sighs, “Let’s get through this day first.”

The two of them finally get out of the car to join Lucas. Javier locks the car. He starts to lean down over his son, wants to press an affectionate kiss to his hair that’s so much like his own it hurts, but Lucas shakes him off. 

“Dad,” the eight-year-old bites at him, his tone full of embarrassment. He suppresses a scowl even if it’s only a half-hearted one and instead looks around to see if anyone saw him. 

Javier straightens again, trying to pretend the slight rejection didn’t sting too much. Lucas is turning nine soon but he hadn’t guessed that he’d be so much of a preteen already. He has no clue if he is doing okay with him but he vows to get a smile out of him before they part for the day. 

“I’ll talk to Mom about it,” Javier eventually promises. It’s not untrue.

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Lucas replies with a fake smile and looks away. 

“Lucas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you,” he drops Inés’ bag and thinks fuck it. He crouches down to hold both his arms, rubbing them soothingly, and feels relief at not being rejected again, “I know you really want a dog but you gotta cut your Mom and me some slack here, okay? We’ve never had three kiddos at the same time. Just like you’ve never had two siblings before.”

“Four,” his son mutters. 

“It’ll be okay,” he tells him with a smile. He is steadfast as he continues, “And I mean it, I will talk to Mom but her verdict is final. She’s the pregnant one.”

“Okay,” Lucas says with uncertainty.

“Okaaay,” he parrots to him in a silly voice with a gentle squeeze. 

“Okay,” Lucas says with a little laugh. 

“Okay,” Inés chimes in with excitement. 

Lucas laughs genuinely this time and Javier feels his heart leap. He picks up the bag from the ground and stands once more, only to bend down and kiss his son’s hair, “School waits. Inés and I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Dad, bye, Inés,” he nods, “I love you.”

“I love you too!!!” Inés yells loudly and Javier takes her hand with the one not carrying her bag. 

“Love you, mijo (my son).”

—

The next stop is Inés’ classroom. She runs a few meters in front of him the whole way there but because of her little legs, he never gets too far behind her. He feels so relieved that she’s always this excited for school but with the way that you tell him that she’s so much like him, he also knows that it’s just a matter of time before she grows tired of school during her teen years. Teen years. He shouldn’t think about that already since the thought of her growing is unbearable. 

“Inés, slow down,” he says despite not needing to, wanting a bit of control, “I don’t want you falling and scraping your knees, mi amor (my love).”

When she doesn’t immediately follow orders, he holds out his hand for her to take, “Inés.”

She turns her head toward him as she runs down the hall, so close to her goal which is her classroom, and tumbles into a woman coming out of the room. Javier puts a hand on his head in shock, dropping his daughter’s bag and walking straight to them whilst apologizing profusely. 

“It’s alright,” the woman says with a sweet smile in his direction and then in Inés’ direction. She’s tall and blonde, wearing a coat in this boiling weather which must mean she’s not used to Texas, “We’re both alright, aren’t we?”

“Sorry,” Inés says genuinely. 

“Well, aren’t you well-behaved?” She is grinning now. 

“Daddy, can I go inside and play with Ava?” Inés looks longingly towards the door. 

He goes to pick up her bag, “Sí (yes), but take your backpack and I’ll talk to the nice lady.”

Inés does as she is told, standing perfectly still whilst he helps the bag onto her shoulders. He kisses the top of her head, “Ves a jugar (Go and play). I’ll pick you up later today.”

“They’re great at that age,” the woman says with a dreamy smile after Inés bounds into the classroom, “I dropped mine off a moment ago.”

“They in the same class?” He asks. 

“As of last week. Oh, and it’s Emily, actually, not ‘nice lady’,” the stranger reveals, holding out her hand for a shake, “And you’re Javier, right?”

“That’s right,” he shakes her hand. Great, even she knows who he is and he prepares himself for the usual speech about him being known all over Laredo, doing everything in his power to not make his mouth a straight line. 

However, she nods towards the door and surprises him by saying nothing of the sort. Instead, she makes it about herself which shouldn’t be nice but it is, “Inés’ father? My daughter has mentioned her a few times. We’re new here, moved from Upstate New York. Work. You know.”

“That explains the coat,” he says with a little smirk. 

She reacts by putting her hand on her cheek and then her forehead, feeling a blush that’s not there. He is too oblivious to know that she’s fishing for a compliment on her appearance, “That obvious, huh? I probably look like a red crab. I’m boiling.”

“You look fine,” he reassures, “But hit up the AC in your car or at least take that thing off. Survival mode, you know, do it for the kids.”

Emily giggles. He smiles. 

“We should arrange a playdate sometime. My daughter could use some friends. I think we both could. We could get some coffee if you know a place,” she suggests in an attempt at a flirtation but even if it’s so glaringly obvious, he just doesn’t pick up on it. 

Instead, his mind circles back to you in the kitchen he built for you, “I’m busy most days but I’m sure my wife would be thrilled to set something up. Inés can’t just be playing with our friends’ daughter all the time.”

“Oh,” there’s a slight change in Emily’s demeanor after that. Her smile falters ever so slightly, and there's a fleeting look of disappointment in her eyes but he can't quite pinpoint the cause of her sudden change in mood. He brushes it off, "Well, I should probably let you get back to your day. I suppose your name and number are on the class’ contact list?” 

He tries to keep up the upbeat tone of their conversation but she just smiles awkwardly, "Yes. Of course, Javier. I'll look forward to it."

As he turns to leave, he catches a glimpse of Emily's expression, and he can't shake the feeling that something is amiss. He furrows his brow, wondering all the way to the car what he did wrong and doesn’t know that if you had been there, you would have been laughing your ass off the second Emily had left.

He brushes it off the second the radio comes on in the car and heads to work afterward. The day feels easy; he gets to come home, gets to watch his kids grow up in front of his eyes and in the evening he will make love to his beautiful wife. Such a fact makes days at work pass like seconds, and he smiles all the way from his car when the bell rings for his first lesson.

—

Around two in the afternoon on the same day, Javier enters his house with his kids following right behind him. He comes home to you feeding Sebastian mashed avocado in his high chair, and in the meantime cutely imitating his babbling about nothing right back at the little green monster that used to be his son. He walks up to you after putting his bag down on a dining chair. 

“Hey,” you say with avocado on your forehead. 

Javier reaches up to rub it off, sucking it off his finger before pecking your lips, “Hola, mi amor (hello, my love). How’s your day been? Scan go okay?”

He kisses Sebastian’s head too before turning his attention to you. You’re scraping the last bits of avocado onto the baby spoon before feeding it to your son.

“I’ll tell you about the scan later. I need to talk to you about it… but Seb and I have had such a good day, ain’t that right, baby?” You tickle Sebastian’s cheeks, not caring about being covered in green too. Sebastian giggles and clenches his fist around some of the avocado he has had in his hand for a while. Javier decides not to press any further since you don’t look worried, especially not as you watch Sebastian slam his fist into the plate in front of him afterward, “We tried sweet potatoes today, didn’t we? Y probamos fresas del mercado, pasta con un poco de queso (And we tried strawberries from the market, pasta with a bit of cheese)."

Javier grins at your excitement, watching you reach for a piece of paper towel to wipe off all the excess food from your child now that he has been allowed to eat more independently with just a bit of help, "Mi hijo es un foodie, ¿eh? (my son is a foodie, huh?)"

Lucas pops his head in through the kitchen door with Inés loyally following right behind, “Mom, did you say strawberries?”

You walk to the kitchen table and grab the cardboard basket of strawberries, holding it out for your eldest son. You shake it a little, “They’re really good.”

He takes one and hands it to Inés before he grabs one for himself afterward. He smiles contentedly after biting into it, happily chewing the sweet berry and looking down at his sister to see her reaction as well, “Good?”

You offer Javier a strawberry too. He eats a whole one, doesn’t even bother to pick off the green part, and earns a little crinkle of your nose. He winks at your reaction and the expression of disapproval turns into a smile that sets his heart into overdrive. 

Inés lights up after finishing the berry, “Can I have one more?”

“Consider it your afternoon snack,” you say. You pull out a chair around the dining table, placing the basket of strawberries on the table, “Do you want a PB&J sandwich too?” 

“Yes!” She runs across the room to crawl onto the seat, waiting patiently with her hands flat on the table until she cannot resist nearly smothering herself with another strawberry. 

“Do you want one too, Luke?” You ask. 

“Yes, please. Thank you, Mom,” he says politely and goes to sit down too. He taps a rhythm on the table that Inés fails at replicating. From his high chair, Sebastian joins in by slamming his palms into the table and the luckily empty baby platter. 

“Javi, can you take Seb for his nap?” You ask while reaching for the jar of peanut butter in the cupboard. You cannot find it, frowning at the realization that you must have placed it somewhere else. Javier hears you mutter to yourself about your damn pregnancy brain. 

He walks up behind you, a hand on the small of your back as he leans over you. You freeze but then relax into his touch. He reaches into the far back of the cupboard, feeling for the jar, and fetches it, “You told me to hide it, baby. You eat too much of it with just the lid off and a spoon.”

“I should stop denying the babies it if that’s what they want,” you giggle to hide your embarrassment at having forgotten and pat your pregnant belly. You look so pretty in your dress, the one he had hoped that you would wear; blue as the sky above with tiny yellow bees flying around on it. 

He hands you the jar of peanut butter and cannot help but admire the gentle curve of your stomach, that certain glow making you radiant in the mundane setting of his kitchen. He can never help ogling you when you care for his children and it’s even worse when you carry them as well. 

“You look so gorgeous right now, mi vida (my life),” he rubs the small of your back and slides his palm around you to your belly, breathing against your ear as he talks. You turn your head just a little to smile playfully at him and thank him in a soft whisper. 

Javier looks back to see his kids chatting with each other, so he presses into you a little more.

“I got a bed with your name on it later,” he continues quietly as he still stands right behind you, letting his hand drop to your hip. You shove a little at him but it’s nowhere near enough to actually mean that you want him to stop. He lets his warm breath ghost over the soft shell of your ear until you let out a sigh that you only reserve for him. He continues until he can look at your neck and see your pulse throbbing under your skin, “I could just eat you up. Take you to our bedroom, lock the door… throw you on the bed, and take your clothes off with my teeth.”

“Pórtate bien (Behave),” you scold him with a bit more mischief than what he assumes is intended, “I have sandwiches to make and we’ll be sorry later if Seb misses his nap.”

He adds a finishing touch to his attempt at a flirtation by shielding you from his kids’ line of sight. The broad hand that has been resting on your hip slips further down. and Javier allows himself a grope to your backside. He jiggles the fleshiest part of it and you finally have enough, turning around quickly with a look of mock outrage. 

“Thin ice, baby, thin ice,” you chide but he simply pecks you on the lips and turns towards his children again. 

“Vamos, pequeño (let’s go, little one),” he says to Sebastian as he approaches him, lifting him out of his high chair and placing him on his hip. He feels your disapproving eyes as he walks out of the kitchen but just smirks to himself, heading for the stairs to go to the nursery.

In the room, he places Sebastian on the changing table and checks his diaper. He also removes as much clothing as possible, making sure he won’t overheat in the bassinet. His son grins up at him, not seeming tired at first but then starts blinking slowly as the nap ritual proceeds. 

“Oh, you are tired, mijo (my son),” he whispers softly as he cradles him towards his chest afterward. He feels Sebastian resting his chubby cheek against his shoulder, breathing slowly as he starts falling asleep from being bounced in his father’s arms.

Javier hums, savoring the moment that he knows is fleeting with his son. He is reminded of needing to ask you about the doctor’s appointment again, excitement in his body as he thinks about two sets of tiny feet running across his living room floor at the same time. As a child, he never really understood why he couldn’t get a sibling but his understanding of what was happening to his mother only came a little later until he stopped asking altogether. He loves that his house is so full now. 

When Sebastian is fully asleep, he lays him down on his back on the tiny mattress that belonged to Inés before. He runs his palm over the fine hairs on his head for a few moments, just staring down at his baby to commit it to memory. He tucks the blanket around him, turns on the baby monitor, grabs the other, and flicks off the lights. 

When he returns to the kitchen ten minutes later, he finds you sitting by the dining table with a sandwich of your own. Lucas holds a pencil in his hand, your grocery list lying in front of him and his empty plate has been pushed away. 

“I hate broccoli,” Inés says from her own seat, nose scrunched up. The jelly part of her sandwich seems more around her mouth than in her belly. She tries to look over at what her older brother is writing but he is hesitant in his spelling of the word. 

“I hate it because I can’t spell it,” Lucas grumbles with concentration on his face, “B-R-O…”

“C-C-O-L-I,” Javier finishes, announcing his presence to them. You look up at him as he stops between Lucas’ and your chair, setting down the baby monitor on the table. 

“Hey, he’s supposed to learn how to spell it by himself,” you tut gently but without any anger or annoyance. Javier kisses your jelly-tasting lips. You tap the list, “Lettuce.”

Lucas groans in complaint, “Mooom, all these words are hard.”

Inés giggles from her seat, “Lucas is bad at spelling!”

Lucas furrows his brow, looking to you for saving, “No, I’m not!”

You send your daughter a look, knowing you have the right thing to say to bring some justice into the world, “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Inés Peña. You have to practice your counting skills with Daddy.”

Javier snorts at the look of disgust on his daughter’s face. She comically throws herself back into her chair, arms crossed over her chest. He kisses her hair, “No angry faces, Princesa (princess). You’ll have plenty of time to play afterward.”

“Maybe I am bad at spelling,” Lucas says in defeat, heaving a big sigh. 

“You’re doing great, sweetie. It’s all about practice,” you reassure and reach out to rub the back of his neck affectionately, “And I really appreciate you helping me with the grocery list. It’s a big job.”

“How about an easier word?” Javier suggests, silently eyeing your sandwich as he speaks, “Like tomatoes.”

Lucas smiles down at the paper, brightening at the praise you offer as consolation for his struggles. He writes down the newly suggested word with newfound confidence, “T-O-M-A-T-O-E-S.”

“Perfect,” you continue your praise. 

Finally, Javier pulls out a chair to sit down with his family. He chooses the seat next to you but opposite Inés to keep her in line if she decides to have a tantrum. However, she just watches her brother scribble down word after word. 

“What about ice cream?” She asks suddenly with her best pleading expression. She is more hesitant than usual, knowing full well that she overstepped the rules a moment ago. 

“If Lucas can spell it,” you challenge with a sweet smile, raising a brow at your son. 

Inés grabs at the edge of the dining table, moving to stand on her knees instead of sitting. She leans over the table to get a closer look, “You can do it, Lucas!”

“Challenge accepted,” he says with a grin, nearly breaking the tip of the pencil in his eagerness, especially now that his sister is cheering for him, “I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M.”

Both of them look to you expectantly, awaiting your verdict that’ll make or break the oncoming weekend. You nod, “That’s indeed how you spell ice cream.”

The both of them cheer. You laugh along with them, and Javier feels his knees go weak even as he sits down. He leans back in his seat with his shoulders completely relaxed, briefly recalling a time when his body being this calm was only a possibility when alcohol was in his bloodstream. 

“What’s next on the list, muchacho (young man)?” He asks as the laughter dies down once again, casually reaching out for half of your sandwich. He earns a look of mock outrage from you, your hand reaching out to swat his arm. 

“Get your own, Peña,” you scold playfully. He pulls away quickly and bites down into the corner. You roll your eyes, “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

“And you love it,” he says around a mouthful of food. 

“Mom, what’s ‘insatiable’ mean?” Inés asks curiously. 

You look at him with a smirk as you reply, “It means Daddy always wants more.” 

“More what? More food?” Inés furrows her brow in confusion. 

“Something like that,” Javier says with his heart beating loudly in his chest at the mere thought of you. He leans closer to you, lowering his voice just enough, “And more of Mommy, too.”

“And I think that’s it for snack time!” You announce quickly after, heat in your cheeks as you push yourself to stand. Javier is pleased with himself as you walk around in a flustered state, “Lucas, do you have any homework?”

“I finished math homework in school,” he announces proudly, “Is the grocery list finished?” 

“Can you add chicken too? Then I think we’re done,” you walk back to the table to gather the plates, not letting Javier put down his sandwich again. He feels triumphant at having caused you to feel like this, a sucker for watching your warm face. 

“C-H-I-K—“ Lucas spells out loud. 

“C-K,” you correct as you put the dirty plates into the dishwasher. 

“Oh,” he turns the pencil around and erases his mistake, “C-H-I-C-K-E-N.”

“There you go, baby, good job,” you praise.

Lucas beams.

—

The rest of the afternoon passes quickly. Lucas goes to his room to play on his Game Boy, its faint beeps echoing through the house from the open door, Inés, after getting her face thoroughly wiped down, falls asleep on the couch after refusing an afternoon nap, and you and Javier begin the usual ritual of preparing for dinner while Sebastian sleeps undisturbed in his bed. 

“You wanted to talk to me about the scan today?” Javier starts a conversation as he chops vegetables alongside you, your hip occasionally bumping into his as you mix a dressing. 

“Yeah, and before you start to worry; yes, the babies are fine,” you reply and absentmindedly run your palm across your belly. 

“But?” Javier puts the knife down to look at you. 

“But nothing. I just wanted to tell you that they know what we’re having and they want us to discuss if we wanna know,” you smile excitedly. You mirror him by putting down the spoon and stepping closer to let him embrace you. 

“They can tell already?” He asks as he places his hands on your hips, rubbing up and down soothingly. He pecks your lips, heart feeling too big for his chest. 

You nod and lean into another kiss, “And they said everything looks great too. Nothing to worry about, and the due date is so far down the road that we can’t wonder about the delivery yet.” 

“Alright, yes. Okay,” he nods in return, an overwhelmed smile on his lips. He releases a small sigh, “But do we want to know? We’ve tried both but I think it’s up to you.” 

“I mean,” you think out loud while Javier takes the opportunity to rub your stomach, “I like surprises but with the stress the delivery will probably bring, it might be nice to know. Just to appreciate it more than when I’m a mess. I don’t know.”

“Well, I guess we don’t have to decide now. We have five or so months, have a think,” he reassures you and presses a soft kiss to your neck. He can feel and hear you draw in a deep breath. 

You are interrupted by Sebastian’s soft noises through the baby monitor, tiny sounds of complaint indicating that he is just about to cry. Javier releases you from his grasp, “You get him and I’ll finish up here. Dinner in twenty, don’t you think?”

“Sure, baby,” you say with a final peck to his lips. You leave the kitchen, ascending the stairs with a little noise, and when Javier glances out into the entry hall, he sees you walk upstairs with a hand on the small of your back. Sebastian has started to cry but you reassure him all the way through the house, “I’m coming, mijo (my son).”

Javier finishes up dinner. He faintly hears you tell Lucas to go set the table, and when your son starts taking plates out of the drawer, Inés enters the kitchen while rubbing her eyes, awakened by the noise. 

“Hola, mi niña cansada (hello, my tired girl),” Javier says as she leans into his side. He turns the pan on the hob so that the handle doesn’t stick out from over the edge, then runs his hand over his daughter’s hair. 

“No estoy cansada, papá (I’m not tired, Daddy),” she protests while fighting a yawn. 

“¿Entonces tienes hambre (Are you hungry then)?” He asks with a hidden, amused smile. 

“Sí (yes),” she wraps her arms around his waist. 

"Si tienes hambre, ayuda a tu hermano a poner la mesa (If you’re hungry, help your brother with setting the table),” he runs his hand over her back, caressing her gently while stirring the chicken and vegetables. 

“Okay, papá,” she says, her stomach probably growling since she’s not protesting hard labor. 

Lucas has finished carrying plates, glasses, and cutlery to the dining table. He pulls out a chair for Inés to stand on, directing her thoroughly on where everything goes until you enter the kitchen again with Sebastian on your hip. 

“It looks so good!” You praise with a big grin, genuinely proud to see both of your eldest kids cooperating so well, “And the cutlery on the right sides!” 

Javier turns back to have a look, holding a hand up to give them both a high five. You send him a smile only reserved for him, walking to put Sebastian into his high chair afterward. You go to the living room to find a few toys he can play with until dinner is ready. 

“Can I watch Nanalan after dinner?” Inés asks during dinner, mouth full of food. 

“If you practice your counting first,” you compromise. 

Without hesitation, Inés starts saying numbers out loud, “One, two, three, four, five, six…”

“Inés,” you say, a crease on your forehead.

“You drive a hard bargain, Mrs. Peña,” Javier teases, “But I think you walked right into that one.”

“Shush, you,” you tut and, out of spite, listen closely after any errors in your daughter’s count. 

After dinner, you take on the job of clearing the table and filling up the dishwasher. Lucas gets a free pass from helping so he can go pop the Nanalan VHS tape into the TV, setting it up for you all to enjoy in just a moment. 

Sebastian plays with a few toy cars as he sits in his high chair. He coos softly, making noises to match the tiny red vehicle. 

Inés, still full of energy, practices counting backward with Javier while you wash up the pan in the sink. He can see you listening to them even with your back turned, knows that you are smiling without looking at your face. 

“C’mon, baby. What comes after six?” He asks, having pulled her chair out to stand in front of her. 

“Seven!” She answers confidently and it is technically not wrong.

He smiles with amusement, “We’re counting backward. Down from ten. Try again. Teeeen…”

“Ten… nine… eight…” she says loudly. 

Javier waits patiently. He holds up the number of fingers equal to the numbers she is saying. She furrows her brows in concentration and continues, “Seven… six… five…”

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he encourages. 

Inés grips the seat of her chair in excitement, “Three!”

“Are you sure?” He stops her briefly. 

She looks up at him, hesitating for a moment and seeking reassurance, “Four.”

He nods, “You got this.”

She smiles brightly, “Three! Two! One!”

“Bien hecho, Princesa (well done, princess)!” He praises loudly and leans down over her to kiss the top of her head repeatedly, “Eres mi chica lista (you’re my clever girl).”

She stretches up her arms to which he responds by lifting her up from the chair with a groan. She is getting so big, he thinks as he places her on his hip, or maybe he is just getting old. He gets an idea, even if it’ll hurt the muscles in his back, “You know, baby, counting backward is very important. That’s what they do when they launch rockets into space. Try again, see what happens.”

Inés’ eyes light up as she starts counting again. She rushes through it, seeming to do well when something unknown comes afterward. When she gets to one, Javier lifts her high into the air and spins in the kitchen. 

“Liftoff!” He announces, moving around in figure eights to imitate her flying and she squeals with laughter. The sound is one of those that bubble up in her chest, completely unrestrained and pure in its entirety, and Javier’s heart goes into overdrive when he knows that he is the one causing it. There’s nothing that can hurt him in these moments, nothing that can bring him down from the pride he takes in making his kids feel safe and happy. 

“Oh no!” He continues his part, “Inés Peña, well-renowned astronaut, is attacked by aliens from el planeta rojo (the red planet)!”

“¡Papá, no (Daddy, no)!” She giggles and wiggles in his arms as he buries his nose in her cheek, “¡No permitas que me atrapen los alienígenas (Don’t let the aliens catch me)!” 

“Too late!” He tells her before pretending to sink his teeth into her round cheek. He growls like only an alien attacker would and his daughter shrieks with laughter. 

He stops to let her breathe, her little form shaking as she tries to regain her composure. She throws her arms around his neck, looking over at you in secret and lowering her voice to a whisper that’s way too loud. 

“Do it to Mommy!” She demands. 

You perk up at hearing your nickname and turn around with your hands covered in dish soap and water. You watch, like a deer in the headlights, as Javier places Inés down on her feet. He smirks like a devil and you step backwards but only bump into the kitchen counter. Your wet arms come up to screen your face as he approaches you, looking devilish with his arms out in front of him. He makes grabby hands in the air. 

“You are not doing that to me!” You squeak. He leans into you, and the look behind your arms tells him that you know it is a fight that you have already lost. Still, you try to sidestep him but he just cages you with a quick sweep of his arms. 

“I got you now. No hay manera de escapar, mi amor (there is no escaping, my love),” he moves your arms away without caring about getting wet himself and pulls you into a tight embrace. He bites into your cheek a mere moment later, growling like a dog whilst Inés laughs so loudly that your look says that you might let him give you five more children if he wants. The nibbles turn into several silly kisses, eventually turning into a long, deep kiss too. God, he is going to make love to you tonight.

Behind the two of you, Inés makes a noise of disgust, “Ew! Mushy Daddy!” 

Javier pulls away from you and wipes his hands in his shirt. He ruffles Inés’ hair, “Well, you better run to your brother if you don’t want to see Mommy get another big kiss from Daddy.”

Inés dashes off towards the living room with uncontrollable giggles. Once she’s out of sight, Javier turns to see you drying your hands in a kitchen towel. He seeks you out and you meet his embrace by throwing your arms around his neck. 

“Do you think I missed my calling as an alien invader?” He asks with his lips resting against your ear as you hug.

He can feel you shaking your head, “No, husband, I think you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.”

“Mhm, wife,” he pulls back to kiss you again, and again and again and again. 

“They’re waiting in the living room,” you stop him, a hand on his chest to reluctantly push him away, “I’ll take Seb.” 

The five of you watch a few episodes together in a pile on the couch. Sebastian sits in your lap while Inés cuddles up into Javier’s side. Lucas mutes his video game but chooses it over the children’s show, repeatedly pressing buttons and trying not to make too loud noises when he wins or loses. 

It ends with the usual bedtime routines an hour later. Teeth are brushed, all three children have no complaints during bathtime, bedtime stories are told and forehead kisses are given even if Inés is already out cold. Javier loves this the most, at least when it goes smoothly.

Eventually, the evening leaves your pile on the couch to only consist of the two of you. 

“We put Inés to bed thirty minutes ago and we’re still watching Nanalan,” you note from your side of the couch, looking at Javier out of the corner of your eye and snickering before you reach the end of your sentence. 

Javier tears his eyes from the screen, his body slumped into the corner of the couch and with the blanket draped over his body. He hides a smile, knowing he has the upper hand in this situation, “Well, get the remote then.”

You have your legs pulled up with them crossed underneath you. You grimace and pat your stomach, “Never gonna happen with this belly.”

He cracks a smile, tone serious in a joking manner which he knows always gets you, “Well then you sit there and keep quiet. I’m missing my show. I haven’t seen if Mona learns a lesson yet.” 

With that, he fixes his gaze on the TV again. You throw your head back to laugh at his silliness and accidentally snort. You squirm and he knows you’re trying your best not to pee a little from the giggling. You cover your mouth but Javier’s head still whips around to stare at you again, looking like he should be a cartoon character with hearts in their eyes.

He starts moving, crawls further toward you, and drags the blanket with him to cover both of your bodies. You shove at him, “Get the remote, Peña.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” He scoffs, cuddling up next to you, halfway lying down and crossing his arms over his chest, “I’m not switching channels here. I like Nana. She’s wise.”

“She your favorite?” You smirk down at him, teasing him still. 

“No, you’re my favorite, mi amor (my love),” he wiggles his brows, staring up at you with every intention of making you laugh, “Stop asking stupid questions.”

“Smooth,” you smile with a shake of your head. You purse your lips and he groans dramatically when he moves up to kiss you, pecking your mouth gently. You reach to ruffle his hair until it is untidy.

“You know, baby, my hair takes all night to style,” he sighs and starts to flatten the stray locks again, “You could be a little more considerate.”

“I’m pregnant,” you argue, “You try being considerate.”

“You’ve been pregnant for nearly two years straight,” his eyes wander back to Nana and Mona.

“And whose fault is that?” You start to watch too. 

“Shut up.”

“I rest my case.”

The both of you watch Nanalan for a while. With a foot, Javier pulls the coffee table closer for you so you can stretch your legs and rest your feet on it. You seem less invested in whether Mona will learn how to take care of the baby bird in Nana’s garden than he is but it doesn’t matter because during the episode, your positions shift and suddenly you are resting against him instead. He feels like a teenager each time this happens, heart racing at having a pretty girl in close proximity, but unlike 16-year-old Javier Peña, he has already gotten the girl and is therefore without clammy hands.

He drapes his arm around your back until his hand rests on your waist, pulling your pregnant body against himself until you automatically lean your head on his shoulder. In the end, you doze off, having gotten into a habit of falling asleep in front of the television. 

When the credits roll over the screen, he nudges you, “Let’s get you to bed.”

You whine so adorably and scoot further into his side, “I don’t want to go all the way upstairs.”

“If you don’t get up, I’ll do it again,” he says, intending to confuse you. 

You pull back to look at him with furrowed brows, “Do what?”

Javier pokes the tip of his nose into your cheek and then imitates a series of bites to your face just like earlier. He makes the noise of a dinosaur this time, growling close to your ear and making you squeal from the tickling sensation it gives. 

“No!” You shriek, “I’ll get up! I swear!”

“Are you sure?” Javier doesn’t stop, only nuzzles further into you and bites the flesh of your cheek for real this time. His whole body fills up with butterflies as you laugh at his torment. 

When eventually showing you mercy, he throws the blanket to the side and pushes himself to stand up. You put your feet on the floor and take his hands when he holds them out for you. He hauls you to your feet. 

After a quick shared shower, you moisturize your belly in the bedroom and pick out your sleepwear whilst he dresses in a new pair of briefs. It is a quiet and relaxing ritual where none of you speak a word, moving around each other in synchronous harmony. 

It’s when you go to pee and change that he notices the little device on the nightstand, plugged in to charge, and he furrows his brow in confusion. The door is closed to the bathroom and he can hear the sound of your toothbrushing, so you won’t be barging in on him as he satisfies his curiosity. 

With quick fingers, he pulls the cord out of the bottom and holds it closer to his face to examine the little pink thing. He hasn’t seen one of these before; staring down into the hole at the top and trying to make sense of what will happen when he presses the button. 

The little thing whirs to life when he does and he can see the way the tip pulses erratically, sparking his interest and triggering the instinct to hold it against the palm of his hand. His brows nearly rise into his hair as he feels the way the vibrator suckles on his skin, so he taps his hand a few times to feel it let go and attach again. It’s when he realizes what it’s meant to do for you that he feels his cock move in his briefs. It happens again when he knows it means that you have used it today whilst being home alone. 

He presses the button on the side again and feels the vibrations become more intense and he nearly throws the cute thing across the room when he tries to turn it off by pressing the button again and the buzzing only gets louder and louder and more and more intense. 

“You two need a moment alone?” You ask from the doorway to the bathroom, smirking as he sheepishly finds your gaze. You have changed into a pair of way too tiny sleep shorts and one of his gray t-shirts, and it looks so naturally stunning on you that he nearly drops the toy. Why is he hard? Christ, he is possibly aching. He wants to throw you on the bed and pull those tiny shorts off and—

“Did you two already have a moment alone?” He asks when he has regained his composure. 

“Maybe, and maybe it was pretty great,” you tease and make your way to him. When you stand in front of him on your side of the bed, your eyes wander downward until you stare at the bulge on the front of his briefs. Your tone is triumphant and sing-songy, “You’re hard.”

“You’re wearing my t-shirt,” he notes as if it’s the most logical explanation in the world. His gaze drops to the way the soft cotton fabric drapes over your tits, leaving just enough up to the imagination but clearly showing off the way your nipples have hardened at the conversation. He twirls the little sucking toy in his hands, wants to make you come with it attached to your nipple until he can see heat rising in your cheeks and then he’ll let the device do its job between your legs. 

“Horndog,” you roll your eyes affectionately, “I can’t even wear clothes? I thought it would be not wearing any clothes that would get you.”

“Can I try this on you?” He decides to be straightforward and just asks while holding the vibrator up between the two of you, “You can guide me.”

“Now?” You raise a brow. 

“Yes, now,” he huffs out a dark, little laugh and takes a step further toward you as if he is a predator caging his pretty prey. You don’t seem affected by it but your nipples might soon poke holes in your shirt, “I mean, I’m a little curious here, so if you’re up for it. I was gonna try to get laid anyway…”

“Charming,” you let yourself fall down into bed, sitting on the edge. Javier places the toy on the nightstand to grab underneath your knees, lifting your legs to help you scoot back onto the mattress. 

“Is that a yes?” He awaits your green light. 

“Yes. Don’t go overboard with it though. It’s pretty intense,” you reply and hook your fingers into the waistband of your shorts. You start to shimmy out of them and he helps you completely out of them when they sit around your knees. Then he bends your legs and spreads them apart. 

“Tell me what to do,” he goes to grab the toy again, kneels between your legs, and awaits orders. He clicks the button and the little thing comes alive once again. You’re just about to reply when he cannot help but ask, “Does it work on your tits?”

“I thought you wanted me to guide you,” you retort but in response to his question, you reach for the hem of your t-shirt and start to pull it up over your pregnant body. He stops you when it sits just above your tits, coming closer to you by spreading his thighs until you drape your own thighs over them. 

“Shut it… and listen to this. It’s pretty loud,” he notes as he feels the little sucker on his palm again, tapping the heel of his hand with it. 

“It’s quieter when it’s in place,” you say with heat in your cheeks, anticipation evident on your face, “So don’t worry about switching up the intensity when I get close.” 

“Ah… but no going overboard,” he nods, grinning down at you. Sure. He drags out the testing on his palm to get you worked up even more, knowing it will only increase the pulse in your whole body until you might cuss him out when he actually goes to work on you. He loves your body when it is pregnant and sensitive, and while he would never let anyone in on what the two of you do behind closed doors, there’s a part of him that wants to brag to Steve about how you cream yourself from getting your breasts played with whenever you have a baby - this time babies - in your belly or your body is raging with postpartum hormones. Oh, he thinks to himself, what a privilege it is to get to see you like he will in just a moment. 

“Javi,” you complain beneath him. 

“Yeah yeah, chica impaciente (impatient girl),” he tuts and finally places the toy against the skin of your cleavage. You suck in a breath, reacting already more intensely than he thought you would. He supposes that it’s due to knowing how it’s going to feel, and he elicits a little moan from you as he drags the head of the toy across your chest. 

“Don’t tease me,” you grumble, squeezing your thighs around his waist. When he looks down between your legs, he can see the way it makes your cunt clench too. You’re trying to stimulate yourself untouched. 

“Christ, you’re a dirty little girl for this thing. What magic does it do for you?” He raises his brows and inches the toy closer to your right breast. He dances around the swell and you bite your lower lip.

“You don’t understand,” you say breathlessly.

“Humor me,” he demands. 

“It feels… like when your teeth nip at my skin,” you explain with eyes that are already glazed over with desire, “It feels like when your mouth is just about to get where I wa— Fuck.”

Javier has covered your right nipple with the toy and between your legs, a damp spot has marked the white sheets. He moves the head of the little sucker around your gorgeous, perky nipple and your moan only increases in volume. 

“Shh, los niños están dormidos (the children are asleep),” he whispers above you, removing the toy to lean down over you and get closer to your face, “Keep your little mouth shut or I’ll need to stop.”

You look desperately at him, shake your head, and whimper at the threat. He pecks your lips with a pleased smirk before you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It gets even harder for you when he descends on you, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it drip down onto your played-with nipple in an obscene manner. 

“Waterproof, I’m guessing?” He awaits your answer. 

“Mhm,” you nod and then writhe as he covers the peak of your breast again. You let your hand push down into the mattress, making a noise in the back of your throat as he presses the button to turn up the intensity. You fight between throwing your head back and keeping your eyes fixed on what he is doing to you. 

“Eyes on me,” he decides for you. 

“Baby,” you whine and follow through, thighs tightening around his waist as you stare at him. You start thrusting against nothing, lifting your pelvis to squeeze your pussy in time with the still somewhat slow pulses to your chest. 

Javier straightens fully again and your gaze follows obediently. He lifts his left hand to his mouth, sticking two fingers past his lips to wet them with his spit, and then he finds your other nipple. He rubs in soft circles for just a moment before he pinches it between the two digits, tugging at it slightly until he sees slick drip from your aching slit. He cannot help the soft noise he lets out as he watches the drip of your come hit the bed. He is so hard it hurts from just thinking about being inside of you as you continue flexing your pelvis like that.

How the fuck are you going to come from just this? Has he really spent so much time in bed with you that this is something he can force out of you? He is struck by fascination at your trembling body, letting you breathe, even if it’s just barely, by swirling the toy around your nipple. 

“More,” you pant in frustration, swallowing down a frustrated moan to not piss him off, “Turn it up.”

“Hey, that’s not how we ask for things in this family. What’s the magic word?” He teases, finger hovering over the button. He pinches your nipple with the fingers on his other hand, forcing a cry past your lips. You don’t even get to the please. 

Instead, your hand flies to your mouth but you manage to calm your noises again, sliding your fingers into your hair instead. Javier decides then to press the button twice before putting it back on you, watching those fingers yank at your own follicles. You nod and your hips are practically gyrating by now. 

“Javi, fu— fuck,” you gasp out, “I—“

“I know, baby. I can see it on you,” he says, making a noise low in his throat at the way your head falls back into the mattress. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your bottom lip getting caught between your teeth again as you teeter on the edge of your first orgasm. He cannot believe your clit is still untouched because when he dares look down, it peeks out from underneath its hood as if he’s been giving it attention. 

“I’m gonna come,” you announce with a strained voice, still very aware of your noise levels. Quickly, you reach down to cover your mouth with the whole of your palm and then, with furrowed brows, you’re off into ecstasy. It hits you like a shot of adrenaline, your body going rigid before writhing on the sheets. The hand on your mouth turns your moans into desperate whines that stir Javier’s desire even more. His heart races at the sight, his eyes watching hungrily as you come undone the first time of many. 

“Jesus Christ, Mamá,” he removes his hands and turns off the toy when you go from enjoying the tingling of pleasure to shaking at the oversensitivity of your breasts. 

The hand falls from your satisfied smile to lay beside your head. You giggle as excitement is flowing through your veins, “Gimme a second and you can go again.”

“Is it better than me?” He smiles at your cute laughter and wiggles his brow.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Not even close but it’s nice if you’re not available.”

“You know… I would come home during my break if you needed me,” he leaves the toy next to you so he can crawl over you and dip down for a long kiss. 

“I’m sure you would,” you nod at his words, slipping your tongue past his lips. 

He holds himself up with a forearm above you so he can use his free hand to push your shirt further up and over your head. You stretch your arms above your head to help him rid you of it completely, only breaking the kiss for the moment it takes. 

“I’m ready for one more,” you say after a few minutes of just making out with him, arms slung around his neck in a desperate embrace and lips kissing him until they’re swollen. When he sits up on his knees again, he notices the way that his mustache has scratched you slightly and makes a mental note to trim it sometime tomorrow. 

You look so radiant when you’re in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, and while he gets his pillow to place it underneath your hips, he admires the beauty of you underneath him like this. You have your hair tousled, your eyes are half-lidded, barely open from the way remnants of pleasure still hasn’t been washed away from them, and your velvety skin glistens with a sheen of sweat that’ll make you shiver if he doesn’t heat you up again. Javier wants to lick it off, wants to eat you up until he has devoured you. You’re beyond softer and sexier than any other time he gets to witness you. 

“Javi,” you murmur softly when he’s too slow. 

“What, mi amor (my love)?” He pretends not to hear your demanding voice hidden beneath your tired one. 

“I wanna do it again,” you have a playful glint in your eye. 

“Again?” He teases but his cock pulses, heavy between his legs at the knowledge that he will see you come undone once more in just a moment. He chooses the word moment because the little sucker knows what it is doing and if you respond so well to getting your nipples played with, a part of him is afraid that it’ll be over the second it touches your clit. 

“Javi,” you drag out his name in further frustration. 

Javier rubs your thigh soothingly, “You’re obsessed with this thing. How long have you had it?” 

“Uhh, not long,” you reply, visibly clenching at just hearing the toy start buzzing again. You scoot further towards him, presenting your pussy for him.

“So directly? Or?” He reaches down between your legs, the toy hovering over your mound for a moment before he decides to let it suckle on the skin of your inner thigh where he has just touched you. You breathe deeply in through your nose, wanting to look down at what he is doing but your pregnant belly is already shielding it from view. 

“Yes but the lowest setting,” you instruct. Your hand dips down between your thighs to spread your lips, giving him access to your hard clit, “I’m still sensitive.”

“And wet, ¡Dios mío (my God)!” He marvels with suppressed excitement and moves the toy inwards, trailing its tip until it sits right by your hand. You sigh at the attention, dripping even more from your slit in anticipation. 

Your hips hitch up when he finally covers your clit with the hole of the toy, a quiet moan slipping from your mouth as it falls open. Your face goes slack in contrast to the tension in your pelvis, your body subconsciously moving around to seek the most sensation. 

He guides it steadily up and down, barely rocking it but still moving it enough to create just a bit of a tug on your swollen nub. He sees you lose yourself in it and stares down at you while cupping the bulge on the front of his briefs to relieve some of the desperate pain. He moans low in his throat, “Mi chica bonita (my beautiful girl).”

You respond with a little louder noise, an orgasm already creeping up on you. He shushes you gently, “No noise, baby. Try breathing through your nose or I’ll have to cover your mouth.” 

You clamp your mouth shut and make a muffled sound.

“Look at that pussy flutter for me,” he looks between your legs then smiles up at you, pleased with what he is doing to you. He turns up the power on the toy. Your head falls back against the bed. He sees your brows knit together and then he knows, “Come on, baby, that’s it.”

Your orgasm hits you like a lightning bolt. Javier watches with his hand gripping firmly around the outline of his cock and the toy held firmly against your core. You do a fantastic job of making as little noise as possible but the desire to make a racket is there beneath the surface, especially when your high peaks and there’s a moment where you hold your breath just before shivering with the pleasure in your cunt. 

He gives you another break but you shake your head. He looks curiously down at you, uncertain if you mean it, “No? Again?”

“Make it hurt, please, Javi,” you beg and he thinks he might come untouched from those words. It’s so rare to have you like this when the house is still full. He doesn’t doubt whether it is a good idea though, just turns up the heat and sends you hurtling towards another orgasm. 

You gasp towards the ceiling and slam your legs closed while you grab at the sheets. You look like you are possessed, eyes rolling back into your skull as you come a third time. It must be painful because you are whimpering like a wounded animal, nearly ripping the fabric underneath you and begging silently by only mouthing the words in a worse manner than he has ever experienced as a father of three - soon five - children. 

“Keep going,” you demand almost angrily, concentration on your face as he presses the button to the next level of pulses. 

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You’re about to levitate into the air, aren’t you?”

“I’m gonna come,” you inform him breathlessly.

“Already?” Javier’s brows are nearly in his hair. He is stroking himself on top of his underwear now, itching to feel something when you are lying in a pool of tears, sweat, and your come. Seeing you like this, he has no idea how he is ever going to get anything practical done this weekend; he’ll be doing you every chance he gets until you can’t walk. So hard that he’ll have an excuse to stay home with you on Monday just so he can spear you on his aching cock over and over. Even if you scream, even if you drool, and even if you sob.

When your fourth orgasm of the night starts to gain up on you, he observes the way your legs start to twitch. He holds the toy steady, pushing it against your clit as you nearly go cross-eyed with pleasure. His eyes are wide, the concentration lost for just a second too long when your legs start shaking as you near your end. The toy slips just half an inch, losing its grip on your clit and the accident turns you feral. You reach for his hand, yanking the toy out of his palm, and settle it back into place. 

And then you come. So hard that he has no idea what to say or do, watching a steady trickle of pearly white mess gush out of you as your pussy jumps along with your heartbeat. You try so desperately to keep quiet but the sensation seems to be so intense that you might draw blood from your lip if you don’t get to cry. 

“One loud one, no, no, look at me. One,” he tells you calmly, knowing you are probably seeing spots, “Let me hear.”

You don’t hesitate, face scrunched up in ecstasy while you let out a wreaking sob that’s so close to you screaming that he almost (but not really) regrets allowing you to be noisy. You pant, kick, and scream, tears running down your face as you are lost to the world, leaving him with nothing to do but stare hungrily as he thanks the heavens that you have found a toy that makes you look so happy and beautiful. He’d be its lead promoter if someone wanted him to. 

When it becomes too much, you don’t even turn off the thing. You simply just let it fall from your hands and slump into the bed, your thighs sticky with sweat and slick against Javier’s own. He listens for the sound of tiny footsteps down the hallway for a moment but there’s nothing, not even a squeak from the baby monitor.

“Get inside of me,” you half-beg, half-order with barely any breath in your chest. Javier doesn’t hesitate to step off the bed, slipping his briefs off, and stepping out of them when they pool around his feet. Your eyes watch, huge and wet, filled with desperation for being stretched out after only having your clit played with. He will never dream of denying you when you look like that. You nearly hiccup, “Please.”

“Shh, you’ll get it, mi vida (my life), you’ll get whatever you want,” he soothes softly but then continues the rough streak. He curls his hands around the back of your knees and yanks you off the pillow towards the edge of the bed, sliding your body through the mess you have created. 

You are like a siren with the eyes you are sending him, making his cock stand in the air and at level with your empty cunt. He grabs at the base of his length, guiding the thick head through your folds for a few seconds to slick himself up. However, the need to be inside of you, to pound into you, is too much and he pushes into you not long after. 

The feeling of filling you up has Javier’s heart pounding against his ribs, endorphins running through his system as his mind quiets down completely when he has you like this. Your warm and familiar walls engulf his touch-starved cock and the both of you breathe shakily in relief as you melt together. You even manage a mix between a breathless laugh and a quiet moan, a sound that makes him twitch inside of you as he regains his composure. When he starts fucking you, dragging you by your legs down onto his cock over and over again, he realizes that he doesn’t even need to be careful, your walls so wet and soft from how much you’ve been touched. 

He repeatedly snaps his hips forward to cause an obscene smacking noise that bounces off the walls. You nod frantically at the way he moves inside of you, nose scrunching up with concentration on the sensation of his dick slamming into your front wall. Yet it seems as if you’ve become nearly impossible to please from coming so many times; your hands are placed on top of his, frustration evident on your face, “Harder.” 

“Nena (baby girl),” he pants whilst fucking you, “I’m already going hard.”

“I need it harder,” you whine, writhing slightly, “Please.”

“What’s gotten into you tonight?” He asks playfully and earns a glare that you only seem to perfect when you are pregnant and not getting your way. He smooths his palms up and down your sweaty thighs, thrusts coming to a complete halt, “Crawl back.”

He pulls out his cock with a grunt, letting you gaze hungrily at it when you’ve seen it glistening with your wetness. He is the one getting impatient now, snapping his fingers to keep up the part he is playing for you, his role as the man in charge even if it’s hardly true, “Go on then. Back.”

You move with shaky limbs, your body exhausted from its continuous stimulus. You end up lying flat on your back with your legs wide open for him, holding out your arms with a tiny dissatisfied complaint of a whimper, “Javi.”

Javier finally kneels on the bed and moves forward until he is hovering above you. He grabs the still buzzing toy on the bed and reaches for your hand. He places the toy in your palm and closes your fingers around it, knowing what he wants, “I just need you to promise me that you’ll choke my dick when I fuck you with this joining the fun.”

You nod repeatedly and that’s good enough for him to go crazy for you, even wreck the bed if that’s what you want to do. Thank God that there’s no school tomorrow because you’d be hobbling around with how sore he is going to make - and has already made - you. He leans down and cages you underneath him, buries his face in your neck as he bottoms out inside you in one hard thrust. His pelvis touches yours, his chest, your sensitive tits, his body unable to get close enough.

When he rocks his hips this time, he starts really putting his back into it. You slide your free hand up his bicep to cling to his shoulder, saving yourself from being pushed across the mattress with how forcefully he drives his cock into your heat.

He breathes hard as he exhausts his body to give you what you need, knowing that you can take it even if it aches. He can feel drops of sweat slide down the length of his spine, gathering at the small of his back as he switches to harsh rolls of his hips. 

The switch gives you room. He doesn’t have to actively listen for the muffling of the sucking toy’s buzz to know that you have started to hold it against your clit because your whole cunt jumps at the attention. 

You press your mouth into his bare shoulder to muffle your screams, bravely taking on another round of obscene pleasure as his lower belly burns with the desire to come. 

His head swims with the overtaxing use of his muscles, the strain on his thighs that has started to ache from how much he wants to make your head spin. He feels a tear fall from your eye and drop down on his skin, your whimpering voice trying to encourage him not to stop the torture of your cunt. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as the sensations are becoming increasingly more intense. He turns his head to breathe heavily against your ear, breathing damp against the shell of it when he tries to speak while his lungs empty as small puffs of air. He wants to tell you how good it feels, and concentrates on whispering filthy things in your ear, “That’s it, you can— oh God, you can take it, baby.”

You sound like you’re trying to overcome your own body, fluctuating between whines and groans. He goes on, “No wonder you’re always carrying my babies. You take it so fucking well each time, amor (love). Made for it. Made for getting knocked up.”

You lock your legs around his ankles, clinging to him as he crashes into you repeatedly. He hears you desperately move the sucking toy back and forth, hears the intensity being turned up to a higher level than he has even dared. You sound pornographic even in your quietness - like one of those videos where they don’t want to get caught but just cannot keep all noise at bay - as you get fucked by him whilst it sends you through the gates of pleasure heaven simultaneously. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

“And if you weren’t made for it, I’d be sure to mold that little pussy into shape,” he growls quietly. You start to have that dazed look in your eye, have a grip around his cock that tells him exactly what is going to happen, “Oh, baby. You gonna come on my cock, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you squeak. 

“Yeah?” He mocks. 

Javier enters the final sprint, fucking you open in a frantic rush that almost borders on being gross, greedy and animalistic. You mewl pathetically from the intensity, biting into his skin as he makes you come with pleasure slamming through your body roughly enough to make you start crying. 

To soothe you, he pulls back his head to kiss you longingly even if it becomes nothing more than a messy crash of your mouths together. He does it to quieten down himself too, finding that his stomach is tightening and his balls are drawing up from being so close. You’ve tightened around him too because whereas you should remove the sucker from your clit, once again, you don’t, and the questionable choice has your walls clamping down on him in overstimulation, squeezing his dick so heavenly that his hips stutter. He comes inside of you when the smaller fit has him seeing stars, groaning into your mouth as he pulses into you. 

The buzz of the toy becomes louder again but only because it slips from your hand, your body trembling with overwhelming excitement as you come down from your millionth orgasm in a fairly short period of time. You sob without being sad, curling in on yourself as soon as he pulls out of the dripping mess between your legs. He is on you instantaneously, pushing your hair out of your face, turning off the toy, and cooing gently. 

“Oh, Nena (baby girl), you’re okay,” he tuts while you cry quietly, several teardrops rolling down your nose as your body tries to escape itself. He kisses your shoulder, blows a raspberry on it, “You did so good for me. You’re okay. We just went a little overboard.”

Javier rolls off of you but instead of following the instinct to rest his exhausted body by lying down, he sits up in your shared bed. He scoots close to you until he can coax you to drag yourself into his lap with a feeble whimper, wrapping his arms around you and rocking you back and forth like a newborn. He supposes you must feel rebirthed. You sob into his chest, cheek pressed into where his heart hammers, and still overwhelmed with the painful pleasure that you have just experienced. 

“Shh,” he whispers with his lips pressed to the crown of your head. He kisses your hair, rubbing soothing circles into your sweaty back until your cries turn into tiny hiccups instead, “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

The way you cling to him tells him that you feel safe with him. He dares lift your chin, looking into your puffy, red eyes and rubbing a tear-streak away from your face. His voice is raspy from sex, “Are you okay, baby?” 

“I’m okay,” you croak with a tired and tiny smile, shivering as the sweat starts to cool down. He holds you a little tighter. You relax in his arms even despite getting a bit of control back, “Scatterbrained.”

“Lo sé (I know),” he huffs out a chuckle with another kiss to your head. He cups your jaw and dips down for a kiss on the lips too, thumb rubbing affectionately along your cheekbone, “Pero eres tan hermosa (but you’re so pretty).”

“Thank you,” you cover his hand on your face with your own, “I’m ready to conk out.”

“Shower?” He asks and suggests at the same time.

“I won’t be able to stand upright for that long,” you run your hand over your forehead instead, laughing quietly.

“Alright, bath it is then,” he gently runs his fingers through your hair, “Ready?”

“You’re going to carry me?” You ask with a raised brow as he starts moving towards the edge of the bed with you, “I weigh a ton with this pregnant belly.” 

“I do lifts with our daughter on the daily, you know,” he jokes, “Best workout method in years. Even if she talks a lot.”

You yelp with a laugh as he picks you up effortlessly and carries you through the bathroom, crossing the tiled floor with you in his arms bridal style, and sets you carefully on the edge of the bathtub. As he turns on the tap and lets the tub fill, he imagines the cool porcelain is nice against your sore thighs and cunt. 

After testing the water, he gently helps you into the tub with a comfortable silence between you. The content look on your face is a reward in itself, even moreso the sigh that you let out as the water envelops you and turns your tired muscles to putty. 

Javier washes your hair, leaning your head back and scooping water into his hand to rinse out the shampoo. He runs his fingers across your back and shoulders too, relieving some of the tension he has caused tonight. 

“What about dinner tomorrow?” You ask out of the blue and he nearly wants to laugh because, of course, you’re already back to being a mother. 

He puts conditioner in your hair, “I was just inside of you.”

“And that means that I can’t start planning your kids’ best lives?” You tease. 

He rolls his eyes affectionately, “Fine. I think we should just do something easy.”

“Actually,” you say. Here we go, he thinks. You turn your head to look up at him, “The kids have been talking about a picnic in the backyard, and Lucas really wants to try out the new tent we bought.”

“Mhm,” he hums, not protesting. It does sound fun. 

“And I checked the weather forecast earlier,” you add then clarify, “It won’t rain.”

“Baby,” he says with an affectionate smile as he rinses out the conditioner too, “You need to shut down that brain of yours. You do plenty enough to keep us happy.”

“It does shut down sometimes,” you reassure him with a little smile, rubbing your nose in a manner that he always finds adorable. You lean back to simply soak in the warm water, belly just poking out above the surface, “When you touch me.”

Javier lays a hand on your stomach, caressing you in slow circles. He feels playful when he knows you’re getting back into your normal self again, “Guess I’ll just have to keep touching you then.”

“I guess so,” you reply simply, eyes closed and a lazy smile on your face. Jesus Christ, he loves you and everything you have given him. 

“I’ll let you sit here for a few more minutes, really let you cook,” he tells you, bending down to kiss your hair. He pushes himself to stand, “I’m gonna go plug your new friend in all over. I think we drained the battery.”

“Don’t pass out,” you say in a sing-song voice, “Love you.”

“Te amo tanto, mi amor (I love you so much, my love),” he replies and leaves you alone with a hand on your belly. He hears you talk to his unborn children, and it’s almost sad that the time it takes for him to wash the toy gently in the sink, plug it in, and head back to you isn’t long. 

Finally, with his help, you finish the bath. He helps you to the seat of the toilet, hands you a towel, and drains water from the tub.

“I had the same old question today,” he small-talks while you are on the toilet to dry yourself. He steps over the edge of the newly-drained tub to stand in it, pulling the shower head off the wall to wash himself down from the remnants of what you have just done in bed. He’ll hurry up to finish before you so you don’t start changing the sheets in your pregnant condition. 

“Yeah?” You decide against what you are doing and go, albeit shakily, to find a flannel. You soak it in lukewarm water and instantly sigh as you place it between your legs. 

“Lucas wants that damn dog so badly,” he continues as he washes himself, “I told him it was a bad idea. He got pretty upset.”

“Is it? A bad idea, I mean?” You wash the flannel clean after using it and wring out the excess water before hanging it on the side of the laundry basket.

“I said yes but I also said it was you who had the final say in it. I’m not carrying a litter,” he huffs a small laugh and steps out onto the bath mat. He dries himself, “Two babies, a toddler, and a puppy seems like pushing it, baby, no matter how well-behaved.” 

“I had a dog growing up. It was pretty great and made me feel less alone,” you muse. You turn around to lean against the bathroom counter to steady yourself, watching him with a smile in your naked state, “We could find one in a shelter. A grown one.”

God, you are pretty. He hangs up his towel and draws nearer, stopping only when he has you caged between the sink and himself. He leans in for a kiss and you cup his face whilst he talks, “You’re so good.”

“We could surprise him for his birthday. I don’t like those puppies spending time in those cages during August. It’s too hot. They should be running in the grass,” you scratch his cheeks with your nails, pouting slightly. 

He kisses the pout off your face and puts a hand on your protruding belly, “You’ll look so beautiful during August.” 

“This isn’t about me,” you note with a grin and pat his hand, “Focus on your son for a second.”

“We’ll never be able to top that birthday present,” he says with his eyes glazed over by love, “Just saying.”

“But he’ll remember it for the rest of his life,” you argue. 

“Guess we’ll have to browse the local places then,” he gives in, sliding his hand around your waist. 

“You’re a great dad,” you return the caress by laying your palm on his bare chest. His pulse is high when you look at him like that, saying those things. 

“Don’t or I’ll have you right here again,” he threatens playfully. 

Despite your previous state, you respond cockily by turning around so your ass is level with his dick. You lean forward slightly but only to grab your toothbrush for the second time tonight and disappoint him. 

“Anything else happen today?” You ask as if nothing has happened whilst putting toothpaste on your brush. It matches his. You look at him through the mirror and he takes a moment to think, collecting his thoughts instead of getting hard again. 

“Oh, right, uh,” he gives up and takes a step to the side, reaching for his own toothbrush. You hand over the tube of toothpaste to him. He puts it back in its holder when he is done using it, “Well, there’s a new kid in Inés’ class. I ran into her mom or rather… Inés ran into her.”

You raise a brow in the mirror.

“Anyway, she was real friendly,” he recalls the moment earlier and speaks around his toothbrush, “They’re new in town and she wanted someone to show her around. She actually invited us for coffee.”

You turn to him now, having stopped brushing your teeth. It looks like you are trying not to laugh at him, “Javi…”

“Yeah?” He turns to meet your gaze and furrows his brow. Oblivious. 

“I’m sure she was super excited to invite you and your wife for coffee,” you chuckle, and a bit of toothpaste dribbles down your chin. You reach to wipe it off, “You’re so stupid.”

“Hey,” he clicks his tongue at you. 

“Did you give her your number?” You ask casually. 

“No… I told her that I would find her contact info on the class sheet,” he tells you and you laugh for real this time. 

“Ever the romantic,” you snicker, “Oh, you broke her heart with that.”

“Fuck, do you think she was trying to come onto me?” Javier realizes the true meaning behind the interaction. 

“Well, duh,” you start to brush your teeth again but cannot help giggling throughout the rest of cleaning them, “I bet she was batting her lashes at you.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. I thought she was just being friendly,” he continues his own brushing. 

This happens more and more often. You are so deeply ingrained in his mind that his time as a casanova is so far behind him that he sometimes cannot pick up on these things anymore. He wants to say that it’s a conscious choice to be oblivious but it honestly is not. There’s just no one else but you.

“So are you gonna call her? Is it serious?” You taunt him after rinsing your toothbrushes together. 

“You’re in for a smack to your ass if you continue,” Javier rolls his eyes in an attempt to hide the color of embarrassment in his cheeks. He hurries to go change the sheets before you start doing it.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you blink at him as you pass him to get your clothes from the bed before he has crumpled them up into the dirty sheets. 

He smiles and gets dressed with you afterward, standing on each of your respective sides of the bed without saying much. 

In bed, you kiss and say your ‘I love yous’. He falls asleep after a few minutes of listening to your slowed breathing. Just like he has done thousands of times before. It never gets old.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[onthecusk]

nine-to-five | chapter 1 (now: don't call me angel)

summary: Ikeda Fuyumi desperately needs a new job. Enter Gojo Satoru, her insufferable ex-boyfriend-slash-academic rival who happens to show up in the office at her job interview welcoming her with a pathetic Fifty Shades joke. Surely, she would have to turn the opportunity down—except she doesn't. Now Gojo isn't just her insufferable ex-boyfriend-slash-academic rival but her colleague as well, possibly even more as they spend time working together. And with an equally attractive girl like Fuyumi around, Gojo is sure that his job isn't the only thing he'll be treating like a nine-to-five. What could happen?

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!OC (office AU)

note on the pairing: the idea is that it's a fem reader. but since i dislike "y/n" and writing in second person to refer to the reader, i came up with an oc to make it easier and more enjoyable for me to write. but you can imagine yourself as the oc or whatever you please!

tags/content warnings: (+18) MDNI, heavy smut, praise (and i mean lots of praise), eventual smut, enemies with benefits, alternating timelines, office au, fluff, slow burn (kinda?), suggestive dialogues, dirty talk, pining, second chances, satoru gojo is his own warning

word count: 2k

author's note: hi thanks for reading! this was originally posted on ao3, but after much deliberation, i've decided to cross-publish it on tumblr. i started writing and planning this fanfic last year, but was put on hold because uni happened. i'm so excited to finally be continuing the story 🤍 please like and reblog (or comment, would love to hear your thoughts too!) if you enjoyed reading. i'm a new account so i would appreciate it sm <3 i'll make a masterlist soon!

FUYUMI

“Mr. Grey will see you now.”

Contrary to the “universally acknowledged truth” pertaining to a certain Mr. Darcy, a man in possession of a good fortune is definitely not in want of a wife, but of an ex-girlfriend to pester and perturb. Case in point: Gojo Satoru.

Because here I am, on a bright Tuesday afternoon, trapped in a room with my maniacal ex-boyfriend-slash-nemesis, pathetically enduring one of his lame jokes (he chose a Fifty Shades of Grey reference this time, like the brat that he is and always has been, always was) that were always either diabolical or dirty—there is no in-between. But as much as I wanted to react, as is my right to, I couldn’t help but simply freeze in place, my hand still holding onto the door handle keeping the heavy door ajar, as if the feel of the cold metal bar in my palm would keep me safe from whatever danger this situation has to offer. How on earth did I get myself into this? How is he here?

“Cat got your tongue?” Satoru teases, with a conceited smirk plastered on his face. 

“Pervert,” I say through gritted teeth as I snap back to reality, “That wasn’t funny. What are you doing here?"

Most importantly, where the fuck have you been?

"This isn’t your office," I continue. "I’m supposed to be doing this interview with Mr. Nanami Kento and I checked twice to make sure this was the right room.”

“And it is, we’re in his office—but ’Mr.’ Nanami Kento had an urgent meeting to attend to so he couldn’t make it,” he says, putting emphasis on “Mr.” as if it had been malicious of me to address a stranger who quite literally holds the fate of my employment in his hands that way.

“And you just magically appeared out of thin air to save the day? After all these years?"

“If it’s you who needs saving, why wouldn’t I?”

His signature smirk is still intact on his stupid face. I try very hard to compose myself and put on a professional front despite this situation being silly enough to make me want to throw up and cry at the same time.

“Alright, that's enough. I’ll see myself out and ask Mr. Nanami to reschedule my interview,” I confidently respond. “Thanks for your time.”

Or maybe I’ll just quit while I’m ahead and not push through with the interview at all. That way, I’ll personally eliminate my chances of having to see Satoru ever again. I bow my head and turn around to exit the room.

“Fuyumi,” Satoru calls out, now in a different tone—firmer, and there definitely was a cold ring to his voice this time. It always surprised me how quickly he could dabble with his moods to accurately accommodate whatever the current situation required of him. I could never acclimate to my surrounding as confidently as he does and seeing him in action can be scary sometimes. “Can we start over?”

I wince at how intentional that question was. With it coming from his mouth, I didn’t have to think too hard to know it was his tricky way of making me think it could mean starting our relationship or my interview over again. It’s one or the other and I hate myself for still being delusional over some of the things Satoru says when I know he does it on purpose every single damn time.

“The interview, I mean,” Satoru says. And then a beat. “I know what’s on your mind. Don’t get ahead of yourself, angel.”

“Don’t call me angel,” I retort.

“What do you mean?" he says. "It’s a compliment, darling.”

“It’s demeaning and invalidating," I reply sternly. "Especially coming from you. And don’t call me that either.”

“You mean ‘darling’?" he teases. "Sure, whatever you say, angel.”

“I said stop it, or else—“ I abruptly stop, realizing halfway through my sentence that I didn't have anything else to say.

“Hm?” he hums, then smirks.

“Or else, what?” he adds. God, just shut up.

“I’m ignoring you," I say, avoiding his gaze like my life depended on it.

“No, tell me," he tilts his head on the side. "Or else what, Fuyumi? What are you gonna do?”

I take a deep breath and say, "Can we please move on from this?"

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, angel.”

“You’re hopeless, Satoru. I’m out," I snap, turning my back on him to head towards the door once more.

I hear footsteps rushing towards me from behind. Before I have completely made my way out, Satoru is there, his body a few inches away from mine. His left hand is suddenly on the door, slamming it shut with just enough force so as not to make too much noise. 

“Right, whatever, I shouldn’t have said those things, huh?” He says and I’m taken aback by his random sincerity. “But I know how talented and capable you are, so, will you tolerate me a bit more? I’ll be professional this time. Just until we finish this interview, yeah? We really need someone as… good as you, Fuyumi.”

This is weird—Satoru rarely took conversations seriously. But I badly need this job, what choice do I have?

I guess it’s about time I address the elephant in the room: Gojo Satoru is my ex-boyfriend, as I’ve already mentioned. Once upon a time, it was 2006, and he was my most insufferable academic rival. One thing led to another and next thing you know, we were in a relationship—a childish one at that; we were only sixteen. The last time I’d seen him was 11 years ago when we broke up in the summer of that same year. What he had done humiliated me so much that I had to transfer to a different school the following semester. Which is why he has no business looking as smug and self-assured as he is right now—after what he’d done to me all those years ago. At this rate, I’d rather be locked up in solitary confinement, seriously. 

“Just out of curiosity, why did you leave Kawaguchi Publishing?” Satoru asks after several routine interview questions.

“Well, I would like to keep things strictly professional and I could say things just didn’t work out between me and my previous employer, but that would make it seem like I’m the problem,” I pause, contemplating. “My previous boss, he—well, I don’t know if I should be saying this but—“ I fiddle with the hem of my skirt.

“My previous boss made a pass at me,” I finally say. “I didn’t want to keep working for that kind of person. It’s against everything I stand for.”

Satoru clenches his jaw.

“I handled it fine,” I say. “I filed a lawsuit against him and had him fired. There’s no need to get all tensed up.”

“It’s just,” Satoru clears his throat. “Never mind.” I know that look on his face, I know it all too well. He’s holding back from saying something out of pocket—like he’d kill that man and do everything in his power to get back at him. I’d have protected you if I were there. But I see it, he’s holding back. And I prefer that he is. I don’t want this interaction to be anything more than a job interview. 

After a couple more questions, Satoru wraps up the interview and composes himself, placing my documents back in its folder. I stand up and reach my hand out to him, “Alright, I appreciate your professionalism. Thanks for your time.” My gesture is screaming Thank you but I’d feel better if you let me go now, this is too awkward. And just like that, his smirk is back. He doesn’t acknowledge nor shake my hand. Instead, he continues to sit pretty on the swivel chair that isn’t even his to begin with, maintaining eye contact with me, devilishly prolonging my corporate imprisonment. I wish I could say that he looks horrible—a gremlin, the personification of Gollum, an ugly, sloth-looking know-it-all. But no, he’s the opposite of all that. He’s attractive, especially from this angle—with me looking down on him. Or do I like how he’s looking up at me like that? All I see is blue. Like the ocean. I want to walk and sink into his eyes and never come back.

“What are you thinking, angel?” Satoru teases as he notices me staring at him. God, this is stupid. I’m so stupid.

“Oh, not much,” I play along. “Just how badly I want to strangle you right now.” 

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t like that.”

“Oh yeah? Not when my intention is to kill you.”

“Cupcake," he exhales. I cringe. That damned nickname, the one he occasionally used on me whenever he tried to get on my nerves in high school. "I could think of other ways you could kill me or, as the poets say, suck the life out of me," he smirks, like the devil I've always known. "Out of my—"

"Said no poet ever," I interrupt with a hint of sarcasm. "But sure. Hmm, let's see. I'd love to put little Satoru through a meat grinder."

"You mean my dick? Ouch," he winces, faking a pained expression. "If so, then you'd need the biggest meat grinder the world has ever seen."

A beat. I mentally scramble over my thoughts thinking of the perfect comeback. But I couldn't think fast enough when his ever-striking blue eyes are piercing through mine.

God. No.

We're not doing this.

"So, what else?" he smirks, again. "Is that all you got? Tell me more. You'd be surprised at how much I can handle."

“That so?” I scoff. “But I wouldn’t feel too proud about ‘how much I can handle’ if my sleep-deprived neighbors complained too often about some girl regularly screaming my name at night. Oh wait—that’s you. That’s not very neighborly, Satoru.”

Satoru slightly raises both of his arms and claps loudly, clearly a celebratory motion that was meant to piss me off. He hasn’t changed one bit.

“Thanks for acknowledging the fact that I’m so ridiculously good at pleasing my women, angel.”

I have no idea how many girls came after me and Satoru's love life definitely is none of my business. But I'm not quite sure how I feel about the thought of him making love to someone else—to another girl. My stomach sunk thinking about it just now, as if my organs were carving a hollow onto themselves—a hollow I never even knew existed.

Still, I think about Satoru making some other girl feel good and it makes me want to vomit. I feel sick. What is this feeling? I mean, after over a decade, I know I was sure about one thing. That I hate him. I hate Gojo Satoru, as I should. I was sure about it then, and I still am sure about it now.

“Are we done here? Because I actually have things to do—and sitting around in someone else’s office instead of doing their job isn’t one of them.” I start picking my things up and Satoru stands up, chuckling at my remark. If I’m offered this job and I take it, I wonder how many trips to the HR I’m going to have to make to get Satoru off my back. 

“Sure.” A smirk. There it is again.

I fake a smile and head to the door—for real this time. But Satoru follows closely behind and holds the door open for me. 

“I look forward to having you work under me,” he says. “If you know what I mean.”

“Definitely. You'll see me in HR filing a complaint.”

How do you quit a job before you’re even hired?

to be continued...

© onthecusk. all rights reserved. please do not reproduce, copy, republish, or translate any portion of my work without my permission. thank you for reading 🤍

[kicharges]

Little rant under the cut👇

Found out why I haven’t been getting hired, my old managers been giving me a bad review. I did try and apologize to them months after it happened, only to be met with a cold, “I’m not hiring you again.” Which stung, because it’s almost like they didn’t want to hear it and just cut me off. And I’ll admit, we did part on bad terms last November but I’m at fault for saying the things I did, no swearing was said, but I did let them know where they fell short when it came to communicating with me.

That’s all I wanted, was to be updated on the stuff I was messing up on, but instead of doing that, I was left to wonder why I had suddenly been cut down to 1 day a week. Nothing about it was said until I asked them after a week of them saying nothing about it, and then boom! They’re telling me I’m short on my till almost every day, and usually if I was, they’d write something on my papers to let me know. As well as other problems we had, so, I felt kinda dumb and ended up going in the next day and quitting.

But I was also dumb enough to keep them as a reference on my resume, which I’ve been handing out resumes left, right, and centre since February of this year! The only reason I know I’ve been getting a bad review is because I suspected something was up and had a friend of mine call her. I don’t wanna go into what was said, but I at least have my answer as to why I haven’t yet landed any job opportunities.

Fortunately I’ve also taken them off my resume since and could possibly have a future working at our towns local flower shop. I really hope I’m able to land the job, because jobs in general have been very hard to come by in my small town. As well as feeling overwhelmed with life in general, it’s not a good feeling to experience that deep, sinking feeling. And now I’m starting to feel as though getting hired might be nearly impossible by now.

I just want to make my own money and move out of this place.

[poorshadowspaintedqueens]

what was your college experience like in terms of academics? becoming a doctor?

Hmmm, that’s a rather broad question. If we’re talking about undergrad, those were four amazing years, particularly from an academic standpoint. I was very fortunate in that my parents were paying for my education and I was attending an enormous land-grant university at in-state rates, which meant I was able to take full advantage of opportunities not available to a lot of students. Mostly in terms of taking extra classes every term and participating in three different study abroad programs. I started off double-majoring in English and History, and ended up with a triple-major in English, French, and Medieval & Renaissance Studies (which, until I started undergrad, I had no idea was even a field of study).

I knew I wanted to go into academia so I did what people were supposed to do in those circumstances, namely apply to graduate school. I applied to 9 programs the first time round and only got into one, so that choice was comparatively easy. It was a one-year M.Phil. in European Literature and Culture at the University of Cambridge, and while I was there, I determined that I wanted to stay on and do my PhD on the French Romantics and their relationships with and reworkings of English Renaissance drama. Alas, the two examiners on my master’s thesis had a disagreement, and my thesis did not received the necessary marks, so I ended up having to go home, get a retail job, and reapply to graduate schools for the following academic year.

When I reapplied with an M.Phil. to my name, I got into three graduate programs. I made the deeply questionable financial decision to take an unfunded place in Oxford because it had been my dream since I was a kid to study there. But also this was in 2006 and things were very different. I was told by plenty of people, including my academic advisors, that it was worth the risk to have a PhD from Oxford behind my name.

From a financial standpoint, it was probably the worst decision of my life. However, the three years I spent in Oxford were probably amongst the most intellectually fulfilling I’ve ever had. It’s probably all for the best that I was still at a point in my life where I was capable of ignoring racist microaggressions, and that I was in a stable and committed long-term relationship notwithstanding the three thousand miles of ocean between us, because aside from the intellectual fulfillment, those were rough years. I took out a mountain of student loans and I lived like a hermit, working up to three jobs at a time to afford my monthly rent. My department put me through the wringer, and I nearly quit at one point because they’d almost convinced me I wasn’t good enough.

To some extent, I finished out of spite, to show everyone who’d doubted me that I could actually do it. I then turned my D.Phil. thesis into a book in less than two years because I was convinced it would get me a job.

Narrator: It did not get her a job.

I am now 14 years out from my PhD. I have worked for everything from Ivy-League-adjacent private colleges to a rather notorious for-profit university that happened to be located ten minutes away from where I was living at the time. And the entire structure of academia has changed--or, at the very least, stratified to a point where it is practically impossible to get any job at all, let alone one with a decent salary and benefits. So if this question was posed with the intention of finding out how to succeed, I’m afraid you’re asking the wrong person.

This is not to say that I don’t recommend that people go to graduate school if they want to and have the resources to do it. Especially if you come from a minority or marginalized group, because academia desperately needs those important voices. But if you do, know that the system is rigged and that it takes an enormous amount of resources, effort, and struggle for comparatively little reward. Know that if it doesn’t work out, it is not your fault. And always--always--have a backup plan.

[alarawriting]

52 Project #52: Nate and the Hyperpurples

A device was singing. Blearily Nate opened his eyes and stared at it for several seconds, momentarily confused as to what it was and why it was singing to him, loudly.

Right. That was a phone. And that was the ringtone he’d set for calls to his jobsearch number. He reached out and swiveled the face of the phone toward him, swiping to accept the call. The phone’s settings would automatically reskin his face as looking perky, awake, and probably fully dressed, and also definitely not wearing his sleep bonnet, but he had to at least orient himself vertically to the phone or it would produce some really bizarre artifacts. Since being actually vertical would involve more wakefulness than he wanted, he spun the phone so that it was horizontal, just like him. He did have to raise his head off the pillow, though; the software wasn’t quite good enough to compensate for some of his head disappearing into a pillow.

“Hello!” said the giant chicken on the screen. “You are Nate Wheeler, I hope? I took the liberty of checking your time zone and it is typical for humans to be awake at this hour, so I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

Wait a minute. That was not a skin for video calls. That was an actual giant chicken.

“Uh, yes, this is Nate Wheeler,” he said, staring at the… well, okay, it wasn’t exactly a giant chicken. Its very, very bright blue, very, very tall crest was made of feathers, like a cockatoo, rather than the fleshy crest of a rooster. And it had more of a lizardy snout than a beak. Most of its facial feathers were brown, a shade only slightly lighter than Nate’s own skin, and its eyes were less like a chicken’s side-facing eyes and more like the close-centered eyes of a bird of prey, but without the hooding that predatory birds usually had.

“Honored!” the not-a-giant-chicken-or-even-quite-a-bird said. “I am frequently known by the name Bakoon! You are the Nate Wheeler who is seeking work as an engineer, I hope?”

“Spaceship. Yes. Uh, but I’d take a wide variety of different engineering jobs, but I was specifically looking for work on a spaceship.” The not-a-giant-chicken was a Diwar. The aliens who had given humanity the stars, at the expense of a good bit of collective self-esteem and most of the engineering jobs that were remotely interesting. Diwar did not hire humans as engineers for the same reason that medical hospitals did not hire clowns as nurses. “Um, is this about a job?”

“I am hopeful,” Bakoon the Diwar said cheerfully. His voice was masculine and had traces of a European accent of some kind, which meant absolutely nothing because Diwar were mimics like parrots or mynah birds, and would usually end up with the exact same voice as whatever trainer they’d studied English from. But a crest that big usually meant a male. Usually. “Would you still have an interest?”

“Um, yeah, I’m still looking.” This was worth sitting up. Nate did so, spinning the phone around on its holder’s axis so that it was now vertical, just like him. The image would have frozen while the phone was in motion or as soon as the cameras detected that his head was moving out of frame, so he wasn’t worried that the Diwar would see that he was getting out of bed. And the bedroom behind him wouldn’t show on his call skin; he’d recorded himself at the university library, in front of shelves of books, as his job search skin. “What kind of job?”

“Well, an engineering job of course, but the details are… somewhat confidential. I would like to meet with you and discuss! I will say that this role would be highly compensated, with great opportunity for advancement, fame and fortune.”

Nate blinked. “Fame?” Since when did engineers get famous?

“I can see my tailfeathers, so far ahead of myself I’ve become! If this proposition intrigues you, please come to Disque Hall at Drexel University, at 3 pm today. I will hope to see you!”

The Diwar ended the call. Nate looked at the time. Already 11:30 am. Shit. Bakoon hadn’t given him a chance to object to the time; he barely had time for a shower and shave if he wanted to make it.

On the other hand, if he was meeting with Diwar… would they really care if a human was showing some scruffy facial hair? Maybe he had time to grab breakfast? No, he couldn’t take the risk; there might be other humans involved in the hiring process for whatever this was. Shower, shave, deodorize, grab some clean clothes, and that was all he’d have time for.

***

Nate had been living off UBI, trying to find a job in the field he’d trained in, for a year and a half at this point.

There were human engineers who worked on building spaceships, or keeping them maintained while they were in space. They generally worked under the supervision of a Diwar; the aliens seemed to find it hard to believe that humans were remotely competent at anything related to STEM, and liked to insert themselves into any industry that used their technology, which nowadays was most of them. And there weren’t very many of them, and most of them came from Europe or Japan, not the US.

Nate’s mom had been on him, the entire time he’d been in college, that he should pursue acting instead. “There’s no jobs left for people who want to use their brains on Earth,” she’d say, with no small amount of bitterness – Ava Wheeler had been a physicist before the Diwar had shown up and more or less handed humanity the answers to all the questions physicists had been trying to solve, and she’d been considered too old to retrain to the level that Diwar physicists were at. She’d spent Nate and his sister’s lives raising them, trying to catch up to Diwar physics, and trying to push them into entertainment careers like the most infamous of stage moms.

The thing was, Nate knew he was a decent actor, nothing particularly special, and he knew that almost every young person on the planet who didn’t want to work in a restaurant or live off UBI was trying to get into entertainment in some way. Writers, artists, gamers, athletes, anybody who could create amusing videos of themselves doing normal human things like playing with dogs… and actors. The competition was enormous. And he didn’t think he was anywhere near good enough to break in to interstellar work, not like his sister, and he wasn’t going to trade on her name to get a better break than he deserved.

He was good at engineering. He loved it. It was what he wanted to do for the rest of his life. It was also even harder to break into than acting. It’d have been different if he’d wanted to be a civil engineer and build roads and bridges, or something else that stayed on Earth and hadn’t been completely revolutionized by Diwar technology. But Nate wanted to work in space. Or work at space. Space something. And most of the work in space was relatively menial, because it was the Diwar who genuinely understood the technology and who owned most of the ships. Earth was building ships of their own, but even there, Diwar did most of the design and engineering work.

If the Diwar were hiring human engineers for something… why?

***

The maglev dropped him at one of the two stations at the university.

Nate had actually graduated from Drexel, so he was familiar with the campus. It was a short walk to Disque Hall, where Drexel’s department of physics had historically been, and which nowadays had a heavy Diwar presence. Bakoon hadn’t told him which room number, so he asked at the security desk. The security desk had no idea.

Then the giant fluffy chicken stepped off the elevator and made a beeline for Nate. “Welcome! Welcome, my boy! You are a boy, am I correct? I did not mistake your gender?”

Bakoon looked much more like a giant chicken in person than he had on the phone, to be honest. He was about five and a half feet tall, wearing a blue-feathered cape in the same color as his crest, with a downy golden interior. He had two legs, heavily feathered, his thick talons almost covered in his fluffy brown feathers, and four arms – two long, ape-like arms connected to his body on the sides, with four thick, finger-like appendages, and two small ones close to his body, positioned like a velociraptor or a T. rex, with four delicate, slim talons. The large-arms were heavily feathered, like they hadn’t quite made it all the way to evolving into wings but they were giving it their all, and the small-arms had feathers at the top above the elbow, and then bare wrinkly skin and bone like a bird talon. All of the claws on the talons had been blunted and then painted with elaborate red whorls. Something tunic-like hung from his large-arm shoulders, essentially just two rectangular pieces of cloth held together by golden clasps on his neck. They left his large-arms completely free; there were flamboyantly large and flared sleeves in the front for his small-arms, which he held clasped in front of him. There was a gold-colored belt around his middle and up around his back; loops on the belt held multiple pouches and sheaths for tools.

“Uh, yeah, I’m male,” Nate said. He’d met Diwar before, but this one dressed much more flamboyantly than any of the ones he’d met in college.

Bakoon’s head went up higher than a typical bird head, his beak-like snout distinctly lower than the level of his golden eyes, which focused front, but were wide apart and seemed to lay directly on his head, not in sunken orbits like a hawk. The blue feather crest was in full display, lifted high and fanned out on the top of his head. When he spoke, Nate could see serrations inside his mouth, like he was in the process of evolving from a reptile snout with teeth into a bird beak, but hadn’t quite finished the transition. He was gesturing expansively with one of the large-arms. “We have all been veritable tension belts, awaiting you! Come, come!”

Nate followed Bakoon into the elevator. “So, can you tell me about the job?”

“Not yet! The walls still have ears. That’s how you say it, correct? To express that there might be people listening to you, who should not be?”

“Yeah, that’s the right expression.” They got off the elevator. “Can you at least tell me if it involves going to space?”

“Maybe! All your questions will be answered momentarily.” They reached a room with no sign on it labeling what it was for, and Bakoon swung the door open. May I refresh you? A snack, a drink?”

“You got a bagel with melted cheese and a Coke?”

“Of course!” Bakoon went to an inner door and yelled. “Rikwaal! A bagel with melted cheese and a Coke for our guest?”

“What kind of cheese?” a feminine voice called back. “Cream cheese is typical with bagels but isn’t usually melted! Also what kind of bagel and what flavor Coke?”

“Hey, I don’t want to put you guys to a lot of trouble,” Nate said.

“Nonsense! The food printer is entirely capable of making such a basic human dish! Just let Rikwaal know your specifications!”

A white not-exactly-chicken head stuck through the door. She actually looked a lot like a cockatoo; her crest was pale yellow. “I didn’t spend all this time configuring and programming this thing to never use it. We can’t put fruit in the bagels, but I’m sure we can do anything else.” Her voice was crisp, with an American East Coast generic accent, similar to Nate’s own when he was code-switched into mainstream.

“Make it a poppyseed bagel, melted provolone, and just a normal regular Coke, no special flavors or anything.”

“With ice? You’re American, so I’m guessing ice.”

“Yeah, I like ice.”

As the white-feathered Diwar retreated back behind her door, Nate said, “So, can you tell me any more about this job?”

“Direct and businesslike! Well done,” Bakoon said. “Too often your fellow Humans waste precious time talking about things of no relevance. Time, after all, is the one commodity none of us can buy!”

Given how many Humans were employed doing menial jobs for aliens in space because it was the only way they could get the opportunity to see other worlds, Nate could have argued that point; anyone wealthy enough could buy people to do jobs for them, thus saving themselves the time. He could also have pointed out that right now, Bakoon was wasting his time talking about time wasting. He said neither of those things. “Do I need to sign some kind of NDA? You said this was confidential.”

“Yes, yes, that’s exactly what we planned. Rikwaal! You have a contract for non-disclosure ready, isn’t that so?”

“On the tablet,” Rikwaal yelled back.

“Of course, of course!” Bakoon picked up a tablet sitting on the unmanned reception desk. “Rikwaal has prepared this for you. She’s our project manager, by the by.”

Nate raised his eyebrows as he read it. It had normal NDA language throughout most of it, but was significantly more restrictive. He wasn’t allowed to talk about the fact that he’d been recruited by the Diwar for a job whether he got the job or not. If he was hired, he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone who had hired him or why or what he was doing. These restrictions would be in place until a press release went out about his position. “I can’t even tell my mom I got a job?”

“Oh, by all means, tell her you’ve acquired a job. You simply cannot tell her what the job is or that it involves Diwar in any form until the press release goes out.”

“This is the kind of job where you send information about it to the press? I’m looking for an engineering job, not some kind of… I don’t even know, what kind of job involves press releases?”

“This one,” Bakoon said. “Which I am positively dying to tell you all about, as soon as you sign that contract.”

Well, it wasn’t like he had any better opportunities. Nate signed the contract. If he got the job he’d be able to tell Mom about it eventually (press releases? Why?), and if he didn’t then there was nothing to tell her about.

“Delightful!” Bakoon pronounced, throwing his large-arms wide. Nate actually had to step out of the way. “Have you, by any chance, ever heard of the Great Build?”

“Uh… I think so. Isn’t it some kind of Diwar sports competition?”

“Sports!” Bakoon flung his large-arms up again. “If by ‘sport’ you mean ‘tedious competition of physical bodies performing a task no one cares about’, then hardly! But if by ‘sport’ you mean ‘rigorous intellectual challenge undertaken in competition between the best and brightest’, then yes, by all means!”

“Okay…”

“The Great Build is the ultimate challenge to the Diwar! A year – which is approximately thirteen and a half of your months – spent creating something, overcoming technical limitations and solving engineering problems, to eventually present to a body of judges to be awarded accolades, or dismissed as lesser!”

“So it’s a contest.”

Bakoon snorted. “If one wishes to describe it with such mundane terms, then yes, I suppose it’s a contest.”

Rikwaal came out with Nate’s bagel and Coke. “Sorry for the delay. The food printer is acting up. Again.”

“I told you we should bring Mip along,” Bakoon said.

“Mip said, very clearly, and I quote, ‘No, I’m not going to go to Earth with you! You people want to be insane, then fine, but leave me out of it.’”

“By the most technical of definitions, that was a translation, not a quote.”

“By the most technical of definitions, you are being a pedantic smear.” She turned to Nate. “Let me know how it came out, okay? It wrecked my breakfast and I had to order out. Did you know there are only three restaurants in Philadelphia that make Diwar cuisine?”

“I have solved this difficulty by ordering from sushi restaurants. The poke bowl is quite appealing,” Bakoon said.

“Yeah, they’re not open at breakfast time. Something about, Humans don’t eat sushi for breakfast.”

“A lot of us would like to,” Nate said. “But I guess not enough of us to keep the restaurants in business that early.”

Rikwaal was dressed the way Nate expected Diwar to dress. No cape. A similar tunic-like garment like the one Bakoon was wearing, but with straps made of the same fabric rather than clasps, and it was plain and dark blue, a nice contrast to her white feathers. Hers had additional straps holding the tunic together across her middle, approximating the shape of a human blouse with very, very wide sleeves. She was also wearing a belt in roughly the same place as Bakoon, but hers was white and had only a holder for a tablet and a small purse-like object large enough to hold a few credit cards hanging from it. Unlike Bakoon, she was wearing something that resembled short pants, except that it had a hole for her tail. The pants were a complementary shade of blue to her tunic, not quite as dark. She held out the plate with his bagel with one short-arm, and a cup of Coke with the other. Both the cup and the plate had obviously been recently printed, little bits on the edge still soft.

He bit into the bagel. “This is pretty good. I’m usually not a super big fan of printed food, but this one actually got the cheese right. That’s usually the biggest challenge; it’s hard for them to mess up breads unless they’re really delicate, but cheese is… well, it sits on a really fine line. It’s easy to make the oils separate from the curd, or make the cheese too hard or too soft, and I guess your printer toasts it too. That can be a challenge. A lot of food printers with toast functions will either burn your food or, like, heat it up two degrees and call it a day.” He realized that he was rambling about a subject that most likely Bakoon would consider ‘a thing of no relevance’, and shut himself up.

But Rikwaal responded, animated. “I know! I spent half a day programming the thing and I think the hardest part was that it didn’t want to follow my toast protocols. I ended up having to hack it and to stick a sensor on it to detect the start of a burn right before you can taste it.”

Nate wasn’t used to project managers who could hack food printers. “I never thought of that. Sounds like a good way to handle it.”

“On the subject of the Great Build,” Bakoon said, “in which we do not create or reprogram food printers. We are participants in the Great Build. Our team is known as the Proud-Crested Hyperpurples.”

“Hyperpurples?”

“Ah. We see into the range you refer to as ‘ultraviolet’. Since Humans cannot see these colors, you have no native words for them, so we Diwar, when speaking English, refer to the colors as ‘superpurple’, ‘hyperpurple’, and ‘ultrapurple’. To us they actually look quite distinct, as unlike each other as red from orange and yellow, so it perhaps is not the best naming convention, suggesting as it does that these are somehow all fundamentally the same color. But, it is the convention the Diwar chose years ago.”

“We had a committee analyze your languages and figure out how to express things you don’t have words for, about thirty years ago. The surprising thing was how many words we have to describe beer flavors that we had to translate as things that don’t really sound at all like beer flavors, like fruity.”

“Fruity actually is a beer flavor,” Nate said.

“A connoisseur of beer? Dare I hope?” A beak could not actually smile, and though a Diwar snout wasn’t quite a beak, it was too beaky for smiles. But somehow Bakoon’s facial expression looked like he was broadly smiling, even though there was literally no way he could do that. Nate had seen similar expressions on parrots before and had always wondered exactly what about their faces was making them look like they were smiling.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so. I mean, I drink microbrews, not like Budweiser and that kind of thing.”

“Delightful! Perhaps you can introduce us to some local brews!”

“Stay on topic, Bakoon,” Rikwaal said. “The Build?”

“Oh, yes. We are the Proud-Crested Hyperpurples… as I mentioned. The only team ever to come from Fillit Province!”

“Unfortunately there’s a reason for that,” Rikwaal said.

Bakoon tilted his head to look at her, and then leaned his head forward in a way that seemed almost aggressive. Rikwaal tilted hers, and Bakoon moved his head back. Nate had no idea what any of that meant.

“And you want me to…?”

“Join the team!” Bakoon swept his large arm out and fluffed his crest. “Be the first Human to participate on a Diwar Great Build team. Help us in designing and building something so audacious, so creative, so amazing, that we cannot help but gain positive attention, even if we don’t win.”

“Wow,” Nate said, taken aback. “Uh. Yeah, that sounds amazing! I mean… that would be fantastic. But why me, specifically, and also why a Human?”

“As to you, I have business dealings here with the university. I spoke to some of the professors, and perused school records, and came to the conclusion that you would be an excellent candidate. You’re not the only Human we’ve approached with the opportunity, but we’ve prepared a simple test to see if you have what we require to assure our place within the Build for years to come.”

“What he’s not telling you,” Rikwaal said, “is that we suck. Our team has literally come in last for four years. Any team that can’t make it out of the 10th percentile for five years in a row gets booted. And if we get booted I will never hear the end of it from my mother, not to mention that none of us would exactly have great career prospects. So the team decided that adding a Human to the mix would maybe inject some creativity and unpredictability into our performance.”

Bakoon did the head-tilt-and-lean-forward again, which Rikwaal ignored serenely. Nate guessed that that was the equivalent of a glare, for people who couldn’t substantially change the shape of their eyes’ appearance on their face.

This was all starting to make sense now. “I get it,” he said. “You don’t need me for engineering skills, you need me to be a performing monkey. A dancing bear. No one cares how well the bear dances, the thing everyone cares about is that it can dance at all.” He didn’t raise his voice, but the bitterness and anger came through more and more clearly as he spoke.

“Mm, you are not entirely wrong,” Bakoon said, “but also, not entirely right. You see, the competition rates us in three domains – creativity, skill of implementation, and followership. The number of watchers who’ve chosen us as a team to follow.”

“We suck at implementation,” Rikwaal said bluntly. “And we haven’t managed to be particularly creative, the last four years, either. Bakoon and Le’ir manage to get us some followers through showmanship, but there’s nothing much to follow, so most of the audience tunes out.”

Nate scowled. “And my job is to be a performing monkey, so everyone wants to watch.”

“One could say that, but you are mistaken if you think no one cares how well the bear dances. The Great Build demands rigor! Competence in the extreme! You would, at the very least, need to be able to transcend what our audience thinks Humans to be capable of. Show yourself to be on the level of at the very least, an inexperienced Diwar engineer.”

Rikwaal added, “And I imagine that some performing monkeys are just trained, pushing buttons for a treat… but some are actually good at getting the audience’s attention and running with it. I mean, I don’t know anything about monkeys, we don’t have any primates on Diw, but they’re your close cousins, right? They’re pretty smart for animals?”

Nate swallowed his deep irritation at being compared to a monkey. It wasn’t a racist microaggression. The Diwar were dinosaurs, by human standards; from their perspective, every human being was a kind of monkey. “So you figure, Humans are good at entertainment, you’ll pick a Human to entertain your audience?”

“Exactly!” Bakoon said.

“Not exactly.” Rikwaal lowered her head and glared at Bakoon. At least, Nate was no expert on Diwar body language, but that sure looked like a glare. “There’s definitely more to it than that.”

“Yes, of course,” Bakoon said. “We Diwar generally see Humans as creative but impractical. We want you to give us ideas that sound ludicrous, and then help us bring those ideas to glorious realization. While being a better engineer than anyone has ever seen a Human be, and while being charismatic and showmanlike so you can get and hold the audience’s attention even after the novelty of your presence wears off. The Build lasts for a year. No one’s going to watch a dancing bear for a year, unless the bear dances superbly.”

“So you picked me because you know about my drama minor?” Nate said sharply.

“You have a drama minor?” Bakoon perked up.

“You’re Human. We assumed you’d be good in front of a camera,” Rikwaal said.

“Not all Humans are good at performing, at all. Before you people came along, we thought of ourselves as a species that invents, and discovers, as well as a species that creates art and performance. Most of us aren’t any good at performing.”

“And not one single one of my extended family has ever been an engineer,” Bakoon said. “Or a performer. They consider me a genetic sport. Had I not so closely resembled my father, there might have been questions as to who, exactly, fertilized my mother’s egg.”

“Yeah, okay, everyone’s got their own preconceptions about other species, but you Diwar really did take over all our engineering and science. We didn’t take over your native entertainment industry.”

“You actually did,” Rikwaal said. “Mostly because Diwar suck at story telling.”

“Speak for yourself, friend,” Bakoon said. “I excel at spinning tales.”

“We had some tests planned for how you’d do in front of a livestream recorder, but if you were a drama minor, you might have some records of past performances we could look at instead. We really did pick you based on what your advisors said about engineering aptitude.”

“Perhaps we should have been looking for showmanship as a criterion! I will admit, it was short-sighted of us to imagine that a good Human engineer would also be good in front of a recorder, simply on the basis of being Human. But if indeed you studied drama as well, then perhaps our choice of you was purely serendipitous.”

“Where do you guys come from again?” Nate asked.

“The Hyperpurples all hail from the quaint fishing province of Fillit! We supply all of Diw with… I don’t know how to translate the specific words.”

“Crabs, mostly,” Rikwaal said. “Crabs are like felines. You see them on every planet.”

“Well, yes, crabs, but I was thinking of the ri’heenyu.”

“Oh, yeah. Picture salmon, but they’re saltwater only, and they don’t go home to spawn, and they have green flesh from all the algae they eat, not pink.”

“So not like salmon at all,” Nate said.

“Eh, the taste is kind of similar, and it’s a similarly fleshy fish.”

“My parents are fishers,” Bakoon said, “as are my siblings, my cousins, my avunes, my grandparents, and so on and so forth. But I have always heard the siren call of invention! To build things, to make ideas into a reality, was my only interest as a child!”

“If you’re trying to figure out why he talks like that, it’s because he went to college in Herwun. Our capital city. And then he decided he was ashamed of being a Fillito, so he adopted the most not-Fillito speech pattern he could come up with. It’s not an English language thing, he talks like that in Diwar, too.”

Bakoon frowned. Nate had no idea why his expression looked like a frown, given that he could not in fact frown with his snout-beak, but he had the very strong impression that it was a frown. Maybe it was because Diwar eyes could scowl, and Bakoon was not quite scowling, but not quite not scowling. “I was never ashamed of Fillit Province,” Bakoon said. “I merely felt it was misleading to imply to those who are non-Fillito that I share the knowledge and interests one would expect from a Fillito.”

“Like how to fish,” Rikwaal said. “They haven’t let him fish since the time he tried to electrify an inlet to stun the fish.”

“My plan was mathematically quite sound.”

“Except for how many fish it would have killed, and ruined the freshness.”

“You are hardly an expert fisher yourself, Rikwaal.”

“Never was. I kept the metrics on my family’s fleet of fishing boats.”

If he took this job, and so far he wasn’t at all convinced he should, Nate could see he was going to have to put up with a lot of these two verbally sparring with each other. “So let me get this straight. You want me to give you stupid ideas, help you build them, and perform in front of the cameras in front of an audience of thousands of Diwar—”

“Millions,” Rikwaal said.

“I dare say it may be in the billions now.”

“No, it’s not. I manage the metrics, remember? The Great Build is regularly viewed by 720 million Diwar on a yearly basis, with an additional 200 million occasionally tuning in during some years, or popping in to watch for a few days and then leaving.”

“920 million is close to a billion.”

“Fine, millions of Diwar, then,” Nate said. “Does that basically sum it up?”

“That sums up what you’d do for the competition, but your actual job would involve a lot of training and study on top of that.”

“A great deal. We must bring you up to Diwar levels of knowledge within the first few months. It will be challenging! Rigorous! If you consider yourself unable to manage such an intense course of study, you are of course not obligated to take this position.”

Nate wasn’t going to let Bakoon use reverse psychology on him, but this – minus Bakoon’s passive-aggressive comments – was the first thing he’d heard that left him strongly in favor of taking the job. The Diwar trained very few humans, and there were entire domains of their knowledge that they simply didn’t share. “Does that include the Interdicted Disciplines?”

“If you sign a pledge that you will not share your knowledge for the purpose of making war, nor will you share it with anyone who does not sign a similar pledge, then yes, we have absolute authority to train you in any discipline that seems relevant.”

“Your planet still doesn’t have a unified central government,” Rikwaal said. “We can’t take the risk that your existing separate states might make war on each other with our technology.”

“Come on. Humanity’s been in space for forty years now. The UN has a lot more teeth in it than it used to, before you guys came along.”

“Yes, yes, but the decision is unfortunately not in our hands. We are merely a sporting team from Fillit Province, not politicians or influential leading lights of society, as yet.”

Well. It wasn’t as if Nate disagreed with the restriction against using Diwar technology for war; tensions between human nations still existed, and war was overall pretty terrible. Maybe it made sense that they wouldn’t teach humans certain things unless the humans pledged to never use those things for war. The thought of actually getting to learn Diwar physics and engineering in the Interdicted Disciplines was heady. He’d be able to write his own ticket anywhere on Earth that did engineering at all, or become a professor with near-instant tenure if the college could enforce his students pledging against war.

“Ok. I’m sold, I guess. Happy to be a dancing bear for a year if it means I have a chance of learning the advanced stuff you guys won’t teach the rest of us.”

“Excellent!” Bakoon declared. “I will inform the rest of the team!”

“You will not,” Rikwaal said. “He’s gotta pass the test first.”

“Oh. Ahem.” He actually said “ahem” rather than making a throat-clearing noise. “Yes, of course.”

“What kind of test?”

“A test of thinking outside boxes! A challenge to your creativity and skill!”

Rikwaal sighed.

***

They brought him to a room where there was a chaotic pile of transparent chips that were about the size of his pinky fingernail, all over a table and spilling onto the floor. There was also a small robot. The robot, about a foot tall, was built in a Diwar-like shape rather than a humanoid shape, but it had very large eyes, proportionately much bigger than Diwar eyes, or human eyes for that matter. It was as if a Japanese animator had been given the task of making a cute Diwar robot, and had applied extremely large eyes for cuteness. The robot was painted in bright primary colors, with a thin visible speaker grille in its slightly open beaklike mouth.

“This,” Bakoon said in an apologetic tone, “is your assistive equipment. It will follow voice commands in English, to assist you with the task.”

“We figured you needed something,” Rikwaal said, “since you only have two arms.”

“Humans are pretty good at getting by with our two arms,” Nate said, in a mild tone of voice because sounding as irritated with the condescension as he felt would be a good way to not get the job.

“Most Diwar engineers working on a task have robotic assistance,” Bakoon said. “We regret, though, that all we’re able to offer you for assistance is… this.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Bakoon became very interested in smoothing down the feathers of his left large-arm. “It’s… well, it’s hardly up to the standards we’d prefer to use—”

“It’s a child’s toy,” Rikwaal said. “We borrowed it from Le’ir because the budget wouldn’t support buying anything more sophisticated and bringing it to Earth. Or buying anything, really. He’s held onto it since he was a kid.”

“In English, we would call it something like a… Buildy Buddy.” Bakoon was still very interested in preening his arm. This looked like it was conveying the same emotions humans would by staring at the floor or ostentatiously not making eye contact.

“A Buildy Buddy,” Nate repeated.

“Well, of course the name in Diwar Standard isn’t quite the same. It’s more of a portmanteau word than alliterative, but I thought this would be the best translation.”

“It’s not like you’re likely to need it for much,” Rikwaal said. “Maybe bringing you tools or something.” There was a large collection of tools, electronics boards, and various doodads all over a table that ran along the wall.

“Okay,” Nate said, hiding his impatience. “So, what’s the job?”

“These are memory chips. Most of them can hold a petabyte of data,” Rikwaal said. Nate whistled. The solid state memory chips humans used in their tablets and phones were a little bit smaller – not much, they were close to the limit of what humans could usefully manipulate and not lose in a carpet – but typically held only a few terabytes. “But about ten percent of them—” she held one up against the light with her small-arm’s talons—“are double capacity.” She picked up another and held them both up. “Take a look.”

Both were transparent. Both were the exact same color. Both had a numeric sequence on them that was too tiny to read and was written with Diwar hexadecimal numerals anyway, but looked to be about the same length. But when Rikwaal held them in front of the light, Nate could see that one of them was very slightly darker on the inside.

“And… what? I’m supposed to separate the two-petabyte chips from the one-petabytes?”

“In three hours,” Bakoon said.

Nate looked at the pile of what had to be thousands of the chips. He looked at the two Rikwaal was holding. “Is there any significant difference between them? Like… am I supposed to plug them all into that laptop to check their size?”

“You can’t plug any of them into the laptop,” Rikwaal said, “since this is a Diwar standard and that is a human laptop. Also that would take you much too long.”

Well, he definitely had to agree with that. Finding ten percent of several thousand, when they weren’t visibly different unless held to the light, was already the kind of task a fairy tale character would probably need the help of a kindly bird bringing her flock in to help after the hero had put the bird’s babies back in her nest for her, or something.

“As for any other indicator of the difference,” Bakoon said, “you have your two examples and you have your tools, and components for various devices you might choose to build. The rest is up to you to resolve!”

Great. Nate hadn’t saved any baby birds recently.

***

The two Diwar left the room, leaving Nate to his own devices… as many of them as he might decide to build in three hours, anyway. What he really wanted to do was rant about how ridiculous and unreasonable this task was, but he considered it very likely that they were watching and listening, so he needed to stay professional.

He decided to get acquainted with his tools. “Hey, Buildy Buddy.” Nothing. “Hey, little robot.” Shit, why hadn’t he asked how he was supposed to address the thing to get it to respond? They’d said it understood English. “Robot guy! Buildy Buddy! You dude!” Nothing. “Can you hear me, little robot dude?”

The robot chirped.

“Oh, ok. So I’m supposed to call you ‘little robot dude’?” Nothing. “Shit. Um, do you understand English?” Chirp. “Can I call you Buildy Buddy?” Chirp. “What happens if I ask you something that’s more complicated than yes or no?” Nothing. “Is it okay if I jump out a window and kill myself?” This time the sound wasn’t a chirp, more like a squawk. “Ok! Yes and no! We’re getting somewhere!”

So Buildy Buddy understood English, but could only say yes or no, in… Diwar Standard? Baby talk? Some made-up toy language? And if the question was more complicated than yes or no, Buildy Buddy couldn’t answer. “Buildy Buddy, can you go get me a screwdriver?” Chirp, and the little robot rolled along the table full of tools, found a screwdriver, picked it up with a large-arm, rolled back, and handed it to Nate. Its lower body had wheels rather than Diwar legs.

“Buildy Buddy, is this a double-capacity disk?” He held one of the chips up in front of it. Nothing. “Buildy Buddy, can you tell the difference between a single-capacity and double-capacity?” Squawk, but not exactly the same squawk. The response to his query about committing suicide had been loud and somewhat angry-sounding, like an infuriated chicken. This squawk was quieter. Maybe Buildy Buddy was programmed to alert parents if the kids were trying to do something dangerous? It still probably meant no, though. Nate hadn’t seriously expected that to work, but he’d had to try.

He inventoried his tools and components. There was a lot. Lasers. Scales. A centrifuge. Screwdrivers, hex drivers, crimpers, wire, a tiny soldering iron, an AR visor… what was that for? Nate put it on, and saw the words “Magnification: 100%” floating in the top right corner. “Visor, increase magnification to 200%.” Nothing happened. Then he found the up and down buttons on the right temple. Yep, that was a magnifier. Maybe there were other things it could do, but if it wouldn’t respond to voice commands, Nate had no idea how to get it to do anything.

The laptop was running LonelyIX, a variety of Unix with all the networking protocols stripped out aside from direct ethernet cable connectivity. It could be connected to a single other machine, or to a LAN running specific protocols, but it had no ability to connect to the internet. The OS was generally used on servers where it was important to keep them isolated from the Net, such as AI research or top secret projects. So the Hyperpurples thought it was very important that he not have Internet access for this test. That made sense, as annoying as it might be. Its lock screen had a timer on it, showing Nate’s time ticking down.

He tried weighing the two chips on a very tiny scale that had been provided. The double capacity was, in fact, slightly heavier, in the nanogram range. Nate tried weighing the chips; at twenty-three chips he found one of the double-sided ones. He realized there was no way he could separate the chips out just by weighing them, in the time frame he was given.

Could he do something with weighing large groups? There were larger scales that had the capacity… but no. There were thousands of chips. He’d have to weigh in small enough batches that he could get some idea of how many double-sided might be in a particular group.

OK. Inspect the chips with high magnification. See if there was any other trait he could use to separate them. He had two examples of the double capacity, and twenty-three of the single, counting the original sample he’d been given.

Wait a minute. Was that… seriously?

“Buildy Buddy, can you read the serial number on these chips?” Chirp. “Do you recognize the first character in the serial number on this chip?” Chirp. “If I show a new chip to you, can you say yes if the chip serial number starts with this character?” Chirp. “Can you say no if it doesn’t start with this character?” Chirp. “Am I wearing a purple hat?” Squawk. OK, it wasn’t stuck. It legitimately was answering yes to his questions.

“Let’s see how fast you can read,” he muttered.

He laid out chips for Buildy Buddy to chirp or squawk at. For the first fifty, he tossed them on the scale first to make sure they were, in fact, following the pattern he’d noticed. One of the fifty came up wrong, and he observed that it started with a different character than any of the others had. Meanwhile, of the forty-three he’d identified as single-sided on the basis of the serial number, there were seven that started with a fourth character. So it looked like the chips could have at least four separate kinds of serial numbers, starting with different characters.

“Buildy Buddy! We’re going to change it up some. Say yes if the serial number starts with the same character as either of these two chips, and no if it starts with the serial number of either of these two. If you see any other character outside of one of these four, I want you to roll backward five centimeters and then roll forward five centimeters. Got it?” Chirp.

What followed was an hour of lining up chips for Buildy Buddy to check, pulling out all the ones it chirped at, shoving aside all the ones it squawked at, and on three occasions, pulling out one it rolled back and forth on to weigh it, then modifying his instructions. All the chips he tested turned out to either weigh the same as the other single sided chips, or the same as the other double sided chips; there was no weight variance.

He was now two hours into his allotted three when the thought occurred to him. “Buildy Buddy, are you able to pick up these chips?” Chirp. “Can you put them in a pile?” Chirp. “I want you to take the ones where the serial number starts with one of these three characters, and pile them here. The ones where the serial number is any of these four, pile them here. If you find any other characters starting the serial number, give the chip to me. Can you do that?” Chirp.

There was his friendly bird. Buildy Buddy was not quite as fast as he was at picking up chips, but by now he had memorized what the characters on the chips looked like, and could identify them for itself. So while Buildy Buddy was going through the pile autonomously, he could sweep chips in front of himself, use the magnification on the visor to check the initial character of the serial number, and pull out the double-sided ones.

The laptop had a camera. If he had thought of it earlier, he could maybe have written a program that let the laptop use its camera to check his work, or maybe to check chips on its own… Buildy Buddy had two large-arms. It could have been stacking chips for the laptop camera and assigning them to one pile or the other, while it was picking chips up with its other arm. But it was too late to make use of the laptop now.

He was working on the last three when the door opened and Bakoon entered. “Time!” the Diwar called. “The test is over!”

On the assumption that at a 10 to 1 ratio, the last three he hadn’t looked at were probably single-sided, Nate swept them into that pile. “Done.” He stood up. “These two piles are double capacity. The rest are single.”

Bakoon cocked his head. “You are sure of this result?”

“Pretty sure,” Nate said.

Rikwaal poked her head into the room as Bakoon strode over to the table and stared at the Buildy Buddy. “Well, that was… interesting,” she said.

“You used a child’s toy,” Bakoon said, still staring at the Buildy Buddy. “All of these tools and instruments, and you used a toy.”

“And the fact that these are all the same brand of chip and apparently they have some coding in the serial number,” Rikwaal said. “I had no idea. I’ve never even looked at these serial numbers.”

“Yes,” Bakoon said. “Nor have I. You know that wouldn’t have worked if by coincidence the company who makes these hadn’t decided to use different characters for the single vs double capacity?”

“You’re Diwar,” Nate said. “It’d be efficient for a company to differentiate the serial numbers of separate products so they can’t overlap, and you guys usually go for efficiency.”

“True, but…”

“So, did I pass or not?”

Bakoon was plainly struggling. “We expected… an engineering solution of some type? Create an algorithm to allow you to identify the chips by differential weight. Use the magnifier and the laser in combination to detect the differential refraction of light passing through the singles and doubles. Something like that. Not… you just had the toy read the serial numbers and do the job for you!”

Nate shrugged. “You give your kids some pretty sophisticated toys.”

“We will have to check to see if your solution produced the correct results before we can say if you’ve passed the test—”

“No, we won’t,” Rikwaal interrupted. “You’re hired.”

“What do you mean?” Bakoon asked, aggrieved. “Of course we have to check if his solution worked!”

“I’d welcome that, actually,” Nate said.

“Sure, but it’s not necessary for him to join the team. We didn’t come to recruit a human whose solutions are always accurate. We came to recruit a human who could think of things none of us would. And using a kid’s toy to help him scan the serial number instead of using some more traditional engineering solution is exactly the kind of thing we were hoping for.”

Bakoon’s crest, which had puffed when he became agitated, slumped back against his head. “I… suppose you’re right. It is a very… different… solution.”

“I mean, go ahead and check it,” Nate said. “I’m pretty sure it’s accurate, regardless of what you think of the method.”

“What made you think of such a thing?” Bakoon asked.

Nate laughed with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. “So, on Earth, we have stories for children that we call ‘fairy tales’. A lot of these stories involve some witch or monster setting the main character an impossible task. Sort this entire bag of grains and separate the rice from the barley, that kind of thing. Only, the main character is so good and kind, they’ve helped some kind of magic creature early in the story. I remembered one where the character saved a bunch of baby birds that fell out of a nest, and the mother bird was so grateful, that she said the kid could call on her any time he was desperate for help. So this witch makes him do this sorting task, and he calls the bird, and she comes with her whole flock and they sort the grain for him. Or whatever it was. I was really, really young when I read the story.”

“And you took inspiration from this story?” Bakoon asked.

“Well… Buildy Buddy was chirping. I mean, the sound it makes when it means ‘yes’ sounds exactly like a chirp from an Earth songbird of some kind. And I made the connection. Buildy Buddy sounds like a bird, a bird helped the character in the fairy tale, maybe it can help me. Also, after I tried weighing them and realized it would take me way too long to weigh them all, I was inspecting them to see if there was anything I could see that was different about the chips, and I saw that all the ones whose weight was the same as my example of a single capacity disk had the same squiggle starting the serial number, and the two I had that I thought were double capacity based on their weight had a different squiggle. And I can’t read Diwar fast enough to be able to identify those squiggles, especially how small they are, but I decided to see if Buildy Buddy could do it. Turns out it could.”

“So,” Rikwaal said to Bakoon. “The human used a story to help him solve an engineering problem. You see how this sells itself, right?”

“I mean, I don’t usually solve engineering problems with fairy tales,” Nate said, feeling like this might be going in the wrong direction. “Usually I use math.”

“But the audience,” Bakoon said, his crest starting to lift again. “Yes. The audience will expect the human to know stories and be good at presenting them in some way; if he uses a story to solve a problem, they’ll be riveted! Who knew you could even use stories to solve problems?”

“We actually do that a lot,” Nate said. “We’ve built things because someone wrote a story about the thing and an inventor read the story and thought, Hey, I bet I could actually make that thing.”

“Amazing!”

“You guys do tell stories, though, right? I mean, you’re not… it’s not like you don’t have an imagination for fiction.”

“Of course we do,” Rikwaal said, “but humans are just better at it.”

“I think that’s probably a cultural thing. Diwar could probably learn to come up with amazing stories, too, if you wanted to. I mean, I was in Florida for spring break a couple of years ago and I met a Kai who was learning to scuba dive. She worked at the beach gift shop selling hermit crabs and shells.”

Both crests lifted. Nate got the impression that that particular lift indicated being taken aback. “A Kai, swimming? Earth is full of wonders,” Bakoon said.

Nate had felt the same way when he’d met the catlike alien – Kai famously did not like water, the same way Earth cats didn’t. It had made him realize that a lot of what the Diwar, the Kai, and all the other aliens thought about each other, or humans, was probably pretty close to human racist beliefs like “black people have rhythm” and “Asians are really good at math.” The Diwar really did know a lot more than humans, and had a culture built around excelling at STEM fields, but biologically he very much doubted they were actually better than humans.

And he might have the opportunity to prove it.

“So. Do I get a salary on this job?”

“We all do,” Rikwaal said. “Until the Build, at which point we will probably lose and be kicked out of the competition and we’ll all have to get real jobs.”

“All the skies forfend,” Bakoon said fervently. “Let us hope this strategy saves us from that fate!”

“What’s the next step, then?”

“Do you have an interstellar passport?” Rikwaal asked.

“Uh… no.”

“Then the next step is, I get you an appointment to get an emergency same-day passport because this specific country of all your nations refuses to modernize, and I book you a ticket on our flight back to Diw, and we all go back home and introduce you to the rest of the team. You’ll like Le’ir. You won’t like Enshru, nobody likes Enshru. Irta and Mip, depends on how they feel that day.”

“Be fair,” Bakoon said. “She’s had a difficult life. I am moderately fond of Enshru.”

“Wow. Uh, when I got up this morning I was not expecting to get a job out-system. How long do I have to pack? What am I allowed to bring? And how long before the Build, like, how long will I be out there with you guys?”

“Bakoon, we’ve got his email, right?” Bakoon nodded at Rikwaal’s question. She continued. “I’ll send all that to you in email, then. The Build is about ten of your months away; it’s annual, but Diwar years are shorter than Terran.”

“Or, looking at it a different way, the Build begins now,” Bakoon said, “and what is ten months from now is our opportunity to show off what we have made in the intervening ten months.”

Ten months on an alien world. Not just offplanet, but outside Sol System entirely. Nate had never even been to the Moon.

A grin slowly spread across his face, and grew bigger uncontrollably until he was smiling so wide, he was almost laughing. At this point he didn’t care what the salary actually was, as long as it was enough to afford room and board and some souvenirs on an alien world. This was a job he’d have taken for free.

[alyjojo]

Love Reading ⚧️ - February 2024 - Capricorn

Singles:

Who is Coming In: Ace of Cups rev & 2 Pentacles

Regarding: 4 Cups rev

Long-Term Potential: The Emperor

You have history with this person, either they have a broken heart or you do. This is someone where the love is unrequited, they never really *choose* the person they’re with, they constantly go back and forth whether what they have or what they’re offered is what they want. A dissatisfied and apathetic person, which breaks the heart of the other person who is probably very loving towards them. Long term, whoever that is will get sick of it, they will take control, take decisive action, abide by their own personal standards and make the decision for them - Death. I don’t see it ending well with Temperance rev, but it ends all the same.

Or - if none of this is you, then it’s someone that has gone or is going through a very difficult breakup, possibly a divorce with The Emperor here.

Messages:

- Light of My Life ☀️

- I’ve Moved On.

HEARTBROKEN 💔

- Deeply Hurt & Sad

- Feeling Lost

- Grieving & Despair

- Breakup

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Cancer, Leo, Libra & Virgo

Couples:

Them: Ace of Pentacles, 6 Pentacles rev & Wheel of Fortune

Regarding: 2 Pentacles

This could be something new, maybe someone you work with or an acquaintance you like but it’s “like”, it hasn’t gotten very far yet. You’re both hesitant to get involved romantically, because you’re both going through a lot separately. This person seems to be going through issues with their career, they may be looking for a new job, after serving one for years that just does NOT give them what they’re deserving, Wheel of Fortune can be karmic, destiny, blessings, and it can be time too. You have Knight of Pentacles on your side, again showing a lot of time invested somewhere, it’s what’s brought you both to this point.

They may have worked for a company for 5+ years, 2 Pentacles shows a lot of pans in the fire, having to keep up and juggle a million different things, and this person just feels depleted. Financially, emotionally, they’re sick of it. They’ve gone back and forth 100 times on whether to just leave this behind, should they find something else, I’m also hearing they’ve tried & given up more than once. They’re searching for an opportunity to balance the scales and flip this 6 Pentacles upright, giving to things that give back, things worth their time/investment. They feel like they have to stand up for themselves, defend themselves, take action, but also feel like there’s no use or they can’t…it’s a process, Wheel of Fortune. Coffee Cup is you, they enjoy moments with you, on whatever level that may be, long-term partner, crush, flirty coworker, they like you, maybe you drink coffee together in the mornings or something, you’re involved, or this is how they see the connection, if it’s been difficult between you. They crave change, but feel unable to make it happen.

Messages:

- If I could, I would.

- I don’t know how to communicate!

COFFEE CUP ☕️

- Meeting & Talking

- Savoring the Moment

- Feeling Elevated

- Building Friendship

Traveling Lightly 💼

“Simplify your life.”

Don’t be afraid to take a stand against injustice; complacency makes you weak.

You: Knight of Pentacles, The High Priestess, The Fool & Death

Regarding: The Hanged Man

It could be some of you that have lost a job, maybe impulsively quit or, it doesn’t have to be a job. Some of you could be dealing with addictions, or trying to quit. Or you know you need to, but haven’t yet. You’re needing perspective on a very painful ending and things you’ve kept to yourself. Could be things you’ve done for a very long time. As an example, this is like someone uses drugs, and may recently lost a friend that uses the same drugs. The Tower isn’t here but I feel it, it may not be you per se, but it’s close to you, enough to show you something profound. Something needs to end, and you’ve known this for a long time. I don’t see action, I see a quiet knowing, keeping it to yourself, but you’re planning to, making some sort of effort in that direction. Your Oracle card shows you have support, but it feels like you’d rather keep it quiet right now.

Some of you have impulsively ended something that’s caused a lot of pain or betrayal for someone, or that’s why an ending is/was necessary. If you’re newly dating someone, you could say or do something that just turns them off, freaks them out, idk if it’s too much too soon, maybe it’s too intense. Or switch it. It’s a couples reading but these two people I have don’t feel like “a couple”. That could just be showing you have separate issues, work & money is a big one on their side. Maybe you just “knew this was going to happen” to them, or you’ve known for a long time, and just waited. That could be switched. Your Oracle shows supportive people around, and a need to stop complaining, messages are happy…maybe hold your judgements on something, you may know but, 9 Swords is mutual, some of what you think/feel may just be fear based - not real.

Messages:

- Makes you laugh 😂

- Living My Life

ADDICTION 💊

- Codependent

- Obsession & Restraint

- Possession & Control

- Emotional Block

Fellow Travelers 🤝

“Support is all around you.”

Try to go one day without complaining, and only affirm the positive.

Mutual: King of Cups, 4 Swords & The Lovers

Regarding: 9 Swords

You both don’t want to make any decisions impulsively, or you’re stressed out about ones that already have been made. King of Cups has deep emotions, could be one or both of you, this King is in love, and it’s mutual with The Lovers. Or if it’s not, it’s not a secret, I’m not getting unrequited love but it’s possible someone at work has a crush and you’re like…no. Or switch it, you’re a friendly ghost 👻 If this is a long lasting partnership, both of you are stressed out about passionate & fiery action being taken or it already has, you both don’t want each other moving on to other people. 3 Pentacles at the bottom again, could work together. If this is a fight or work related, there could be a lot of stress around money and where it’s coming from, or there may be a problem person as a 3rd Wheel in the connection - though I don’t see infidelity, just “so and so trying to make MY MAN a lunch excuse me?” Or something like that 😆 Or they’re going through something big and you’re over here feeling betrayed because you only know them *this* way, now they’re *that* way and WTF does that mean for you?? Are they moving on? Do they have someone else? That feeling is mutual. It’s possible others exist but I don’t see it being a thing, just a fear. You two don’t communicate well, and being honest & vulnerable about how you both feel would help this connection a lot.

CAMERA 📷

- Reminiscing

- Making Memories

- Learn from the Past

- Perception

Overcoming Obstacles 🏔️

“You can overcome anything.”

You can be a caregiver and rescuer, but be sure you’re your own caregiver first.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Gemini, Taurus, Pisces, Scorpio & Sagittarius

[callu-na]

a reading for @pomegranate-soul-tea-blog

Hey! If free reading are still open I’d like one! My name is Noah, I’m a Cancer sun, Gemini moon, and Scorpio rising. My favorite colors are indigo and maroon red, and I love to create art. I’d like an honest reading. I’d love a reading on my home-life right now. Elaborating on the situation. Should I allow this person to stay? Use as many cards up to four as you’d like, I trust in your intuition. Cheers

First: Hera immediately fell out as I was shuffling. Since I didn't pull this card, it's an extra one for you to take :)

Hera - Relating

Hera is Queen of the Heavens, wife of Zeus. She represents the various stages if a romantic relationship. It could mean you plan to get engaged or married, OR that your relationship is being tested. In this context, I would assume the latter.

If that is the case, this card means that your relationship is due for some serious thinking, or even an ending. It will take work on the loving aspects of your relationship, or time apart to realize what you love and miss.

She gives us the overall theme to your reading, which I believe is why she was so ready to jump from my hands into the mix.

If you allow them to stay

Hephaestus - Workmanship

Hephaestus was known - and ridiculed for - his physical imperfections. Unlike the other gods, he was not handsome or beautiful. However, his importance and value came from the perfection of his workmanship, his ingenuity, his strength, his intelligence, and his perseverance.

He became Aphrodite's husband, and blacksmith of Zeus's own thunderbolts and scepter. He fashioned all of the important equipment on Olympus.

His potential - strength, talent, and perseverance - lie with you now. You could create something special and amazing with hard work, and maybe find skills you didn't even know you had.

If you allow them to go

Tyche - Fortune

Tyche brings luck and prosperity with her. She was once even considered one of the Morai (the Fates - who we will see next). When she shows up in a reading, good luck and fortune should come to you. She blesses people with hope and opportunity. If you let this person go, it seems that opportunity will arise for you.

Best course of action right now

Apollo - God of Light

He isn't just the God of Light - he is the light. His importance is endless - ripening fruit, healing illness, and bringing hope. His arrows of light also made him a fearsome warrior.

His connection to the Sun - a celestial body - also made him a god of divination and prophecy. He put the stars back in their place, and brought order to the Cosmos.

In this reading, he casts light to give you understanding and determination. He is on his way to fight for you - to rejuvenate you and bring you hope. Whatever you chose, you should be confident and affirmed in that decision. The choice is yours to make - his light will bring you out of the darkness.

Underlying question to ask yourself

The Morai - The Future

The Fates. Three goddesses that spin the future - but it is not always predetermined and in some cases, it can be quite flexible. You have the ability to influence your future if you work within the rules.

You should seek out your potential future by divination (hello, hi, good job :D) and work to change the prediction if you don't like it. Be confident in your ability to bed this energy for a better outcome. It I'd important to understand that, though limited, you do have the power to alter your potential future. Complete belief in a positive future will bring you contentment - value each moment and get the best you can out of it.

Final Thoughts

This is a love - or at the very least - a relationship reading. I firmly believe that relationships aren't black and white, but work in the realm of greys (my favorite realm to work in). There can be no wrong answers here - only choices.

To keep your relationship strong - allowing this person to stay - will take hard work and dedication, and this reading hints that it will bring you personal growth.

If you allow this person to leave, it will open other opportunities to you. The opportunity to go through this personal growth in some other way, perhaps?

The choice is yours to make, and no answer is wrong. No matter the choice, remember the card Apollo - he will pull you from the dark and out of the light, whichever route you choose to take.

[sorryforthephilosophy]

A Concise History of White Stupidity in the US

Act One:

Slave Trader: Morning.  Would you like to buy some slaves?

White Guy: I don't know, won't that make me an awful person?

Slave Trader: Oh yeah, you bet! But fortunately, they come with a list of excuses you can pretend to believe in for why it's morally okay.

White Guy: Won't I be scared that they will rise up against me and, you know, kill me?

Slave Trader: Oh sure, you'll be scared all the time. You won't get a single good night’s sleep.  I mean, wouldn’t you try to rise up and kill your master if you were the one who was enslaved?  You'll need to be as cruel and vengeful as you can so as to make them scared to do anything.

White Guy: Could that constant use of cruelty bleed into my relationships with the people I love?

Slave Trader: Are cops more likely to beat their wives?

White Guy: Uh…

Slave Trader: Yes, yes it will.  But on the other hand, you’ll live like a rich person, you can have sex with slaves against their will, and you’ll feel like a big man because you will control people’s lives.

White Guy: You had me at nonconsensual sex.  You have a deal!

Act Two:

White Representative: Morning.  I'm here to tell you that all the slaves are now free.

White Guy's Son: Oh no.  That's quite terrifying.

White Representative: I hope you treated them well.  LOL.

White Guy's Son: You know very well that I didn't.  

White Representative: They are going to want so much revenge, I assume.

White Guy's Son: What can I do?

White Representative: Two options.  You can pay reparations, say you're sorry, start treating them the same as everyone else, and hope they forgive us.

White Guy's Son: As a cruel asshole, I am skeptical of anyone else's ability to forgive.  What’s the other option?

White Representative: Create a bunch of laws to keep them poor and powerless, and also to form a vigilante terrorist group that publicly murders any of them that act out.

White Guy's Son: That sounds good. Let’s do that.

Act Three:

White Representative: Morning.  I'm here to tell you that the laws that said that Black people couldn't be in the same schools and restaurants and bathrooms and areas of the bus as you are now gone. Also, if you lynch any you might actually go to prison now.

White Guy's Grandson: So Black people can just go where they please now?

White Representative: That's right.

White Guy's Grandson: And they won't be scared of getting murdered if they so much as look at me funny?

White Representative: Not as much as before.

White Guy's Grandson: And are they still angry about everything that was done to them?

White Representative: Haven't asked, but wouldn't you be?

White Guy's Grandson: We'll, that's completely terrifying.  I'm going to be scared every time I see a Black person.  What can I do?

White Representative: Glad you asked.  First of all, you should leave the city and go live in a neighborhood out on the outskirts of the city.

White Guy's Grandson: Can't they just follow me there?

White Representative: Not at all.  You see, what we do is deny them any opportunity to raise their socioeconomic standing. They want a loan, or a medical procedure, or to buy a house, or to get a good job, you just tell them “no.”

White Guy's Grandson: Is that legal?

White Representative: It’s illegal if you say that you're doing it because they're Black.  Just say that your intuition told you that the other candidate was better or that they weren't a good risk for a loan.  I’m sure Black people won’t even notice: we’ll be really subtle about it.

White Guy's Grandson: So they’ll be too poor to move to my new neighborhood?

White Representative: Yes, and once we’re out of the cities, we’ll start cutting government programs that could make things easier, like schools and affordable housing.  We’ll make up some bullshit about fiscal responsibility to justify it.

White Guy's Grandson: Won’t that hurt white people who live in the cities too?

White Representative: Yeah, but only poor white people, who are almost as scary as Black people.

White Guy's Grandson: Yeah, good point.  But I’m still a bit scared.  Couldn’t Black people just drive into my new suburban neighborhood?

White Representative: I’ll tell you what we’re going to do: we’ll hire so many cops, and build so many prisons.  We’ll call it “being tough on crime.”  We’ll put Black people in prison for minor offenses, and the cops will come to assume Black people are criminals and that if they’re in your neighborhood they’re up to no good.  Trust me, they won’t be able to even drive around in your neighborhood without getting pulled over.

White Guy's Grandson: Thank God.

Act Four:

White Representative: Good morning.

White Guy's Great-Grandson: Morning.

White Representative: I’m here to warn you that you’re going to start seeing a lot more Black people as neighbors and co-workers.

White Guy's Great-Grandson: Why?  What happened to denying them every economic opportunity?

White Representative: Well, somehow they figured it out and started calling us on it.  

White Guy's Great-Grandson: But we were so subtle!  What happened?

White Representative: I don’t know.  I guess maybe they’re smarter than we thought.

White Guy's Great-Grandson: But I’m scared of Black people.  I keep thinking about the slavery and then the segregation and then the back-room racism and over-policing, and I think about how angry I would be if I were them.  I mean, I like them in movies and on the radio, but actually being in the same room with them makes me nervous.

White Representative: Well you can’t tell anyone that.  Being openly racist will now make you a social pariah.  Too many people have taken the whole “racism is bad” thing seriously.

White Guy's Great-Grandson: But we didn’t mean it!  We just said that to cover up for making racist decisions!

White Representative: Listen, here’s what you do.  We still have tons and tons of cops.  The media does a good job keeping everyone scared that they’ll be violently murdered if they cut police funding.  And the cops are still trained to see Black people as the enemy.  If a Black person makes you nervous, just call the cops on them and the cops will handle the rest.

White Guy's Great-Grandson: But I’m not allowed to be openly racist. You just said!

White Representative: Don’t worry about that.  Just keep saying that you're not racist, and that you don't even see race, and as far as you know there's no racism and everyone is equal now.

White Guy's Great-Grandson: Are you sure there won’t be some kind of backlash against the cops if we keep bringing them in to deal with Black people making us nervous?

White Representative: Are you kidding?  People love cops.  They’re the heroes of half the shows on TV.  No one will ever question them.

White Guy's Great-Grandson: I hope you’re right.

[thealchemistbae]

PAC: What good things are coming for you ? 💫

Hello, my Alchemist Babes 💜 I am an experienced intuitive tarot reader that provides guidance to those who need it. I don’t sugarcoat and with my Mercury in Aries, I am very direct and straightforward. I am NOT responsible for any actions you take from my readings whether they are pick a card readings or personal readings.

Disclaimer: These images do not belong to me. I have gathered these images from Pinterest. This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Please do not make any life changing decisions in regards to this reading. This is a collective reading so don’t try to force what doesn’t resonate. If you are looking for something more personal, message me about my services.

Book a reading with me 💫

How to pick a card: Close your eyes and take 3 deep breaths. Whenever you are ready, open your eyes and pick the image that you are more drawn to. If you are drawn to more than one, feel free to read both piles and use discernment on what parts of the reading you resonate with.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

PILE 1 :

Strength, queen of cups, three of pentacles, four of pentacles, the fool.

Okay Pile 1’s, so much strength and confidence will start to illuminate into your life. I’m seeing that you guys will be overcoming fear and finding courage to tackle down any obstacles. Where you may have felt weak and overpowered, you will start to feel more confident and more sure of yourself and your capabilities. I’m seeing you guys tapping more into your intuition and actually following your heart more. Your heart chakra is opening and you are entering “receptive mode”. You are being more open which is allowing new experiences, new people and opportunities to enter into your life. I’m seeing that you guys are implementing more self love and self care. You guys will be really tending to your heart and allowing yourselves to feel every emotion. I’m seeing that a lot of you will be embracing your creative side more and this can be a hobby turned business. A lot of you will be progressing in their work field or even schooling and really mastering your abilities to the max. This can cause great recognition and rewards for your hard work. You guys are pretty committed people and once you set your goals , you go after them full force. I definitely see success here for you. I’m seeing collaborations with others to achieve your goals as well. There will be an increase in your finances as you are leveling up in your career/job. I’m seeing that some of you will be taking a leap of faith to start up your own business and that will be quite successful too. It’s time to take those leap of faiths and say hello to your new beginnings because a beautiful path is opening up for you to travel down. For some of you there is a secret admirer that wants to come forward so expect some sparks in the love department. But overall, you guys are on the road to success and you can expect your finances to flourish. Just trust your intuition as your psychic abilities are strengthening.

Signs: 333, goldfish, August, June, desk, hills, bear, crib, wreath, valley, bouquet, horse.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at goddessguapa@gmail.com or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you.

PILE 2 :

The Sun, wheel of fortune, page of cups, knight of pentacles, five of cups.

Happiness, joy, vitality and good luck is yours Pile 2’s. I’m seeing that things haven’t been the best lately or in the past and it has left you feeling quite sad or disappointed but those grey clouds are moving away as the sun starts to shine on you again. Your spirits will be lifted and you will soon get that breath of fresh air that you have been needing. You are coming out of this energy of despair and starting to focus on everything that you have gained and will gain. Things may have been quite unclear and foggy but you are gaining the necessary clarity you seek. All the answers will be revealed to you. I’m seeing so much abundance that will be overflowing into your life. You are closing out a MAJOR cycle and you will finally get to reach the light that’s at the end of the tunnel. Spirit is bringing you unexpected but pleasant opportunities that will light you up inside. Expect to hear some good news, for some I’m seeing pregnancy and for others I’m seeing love offers or even creative business offers. Some of you will be meeting someone new and some of you will be mending things with a current partner. I’m seeing financial gain here for you guys , this could possibly be coming from something you did in the past like perhaps you are starting back a old project or job or hobby that is going to be quite lucrative. I’m seeing here that you guys are stepping into a new experience. It’s time for the next chapter of your lives so embrace it. You guys are very protected by your angels and they are giving you divine guidance to help you reach success and victory. For those going through conflicts, they will be resolved as you will get a successful outcome/solution to your problems. Don’t worry because good fortune is on your side and though this energy may not be as fast paced as you want, always remember Rome wasn’t built in a day. This energy is slow but steady and very promising for the long run. Remember that great things take time and where you are heading, it’s worth it.

Signs: carrot, crown, tankard, spear, vine , 455, lightning, May.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at goddessguapa@gmail.com or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you.

PILE 3 :

Temperance, six of swords, three of wands, two of pentacles, queen of wands.

My poor babies… I know it’s been hard and a lot of you have been fighting with depression or just haven’t been in the best mental space lately. It’s okay because you are coming out of that rough phase. The most difficult part of a situation is over and you can start to see the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. So much balance is being restored in your life. You have been playing the balancing act for a while and things could have been so overwhelming and frustrating. I know you are tired and soon you will be able to rest. This has been a long journey for you guys but trust it will leave you wiser when it’s all said and done. Spirit wants to compliment you on your strength and determination to push through these hard lessons. And Spirit is going to reward you with an increase in material wealth and spiritual growth. You needed this to help your soul evolve and now you are seeing above the delusions and now you see the truth. You may have been in the blind when it came to certain situations, people BUT that all changes now because Spirit had to wake you up. Now you can heal and move forward into calmer waters. You have made so much progress and now you will start to feel more optimistic about what’s to come. A lot of you can already feel the blessings coming despite the pain and hurt you’ve faced. This must be my spiritual pile here. Your spiritual gifts are strengthening and your intuition so you will be able to make beneficial changes to your life. You’ve came so far and you have learned so much. I see an increase in confidence and self esteem. You are stepping onto your throne , and claiming your crown. This road you have had to take, hasn’t been the easiest but it’s been worth it because now you have the necessary tools to level up in all aspects of your life. You are powerful Pile 3.

Signs: rooster, basket, camel, kangaroo, brown, 222, 444, diamond, dragon, parrot, boot, unicorn.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at goddessguapa@gmail.com or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you.

PILE 4 :

Page of swords, nine of pentacles, the chariot, queen of pentacles, ace of cups.

Pile 4’s .. you guys are so intelligent and you can expect amazing, new ideas to come to you at this time. A lot of you have a knack for learning and expanding your horizons and this is what’s going to catapult you into abundance and successful outcomes. I’m seeing here that your hard work will be finally paying off and you will get to bask in your wealth and abundance. You will be able to finally get to treat yourself. This pile speaks money, luxury, and blessings. You guys are very determined, motivated people who will overcome any obstacle to reach your goals. I’m seeing that the Universe wants to gift you with this abundance because you have put in a lot of hard work and careful planning to get to where you know you can be. So here is your success. Your guaranteed success that you rightfully deserve. For some this didn’t take long to obtain, a lot of you may be experiencing these blessings pretty fast as I see a short journey with little to no obstacles. At least not major obstacles. You guys will be thriving in your independence and being able to take care of those you love as well as yourself. There is more than enough abundance to go around. Good karma is on your side here. You guys are the types to take risks or perhaps some of you will be taking a chance on yourself and Spirit is saying GO FOR IT. You will be successful. I’m seeing some of you wanting to start a business or maybe taking on a family business here. Some of you will be reconciling with family or specific family members or perhaps a lover or friend. A lot of love and blessings surrounds you Pile 4. This is just simply you guys reaping what you have sown into others. I’m seeing contracts here so this can either be a business contract or even a marriage contract here as well. Congratulations Pile 4, you truly deserve the blessings that the Universe is providing into your life.

Signs: 555, 1111, tulips, flute, tower, money bag, perched bird, funnel, fruit bowl, staff.

If you enjoyed this reading, you can leave me a tip via PayPal at goddessguapa@gmail.com or via cashapp $lavishlyguapa. Thank you.

thealchemistbae © do not copy, redistribute, or edit my content.

[silverynight]

Praise

Uraraka is right, Izuku thinks as she whispers something about not liking how much Bakugo is constantly insulting him.

"Kacchan is just like that," he says, trying to defend him, as always has. "He looks angry and curses a lot, but he's not bad."

"I don't like how he treats you," Uraraka insists, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I don't like it either," Todoroki cuts in, glaring at the table where Bakugo and his friends are eating at. He's yelling at them about something, but they don't seem to mind.

"You constantly praise him and compliment him and he just calls you 'idiot'," Uraraka mumbles furiously.

Izuku presses his lips together and considers the situation, maybe they have a point; he knows Bakugo likes when people praise him, but he clearly doesn't like it when Izuku does.

Perhaps he should stop at all.

***

He's so exhausted during a training exercise that even Aizawa looks at him and gives him permission to take a break. He sits on the floor next to him and takes the opportunity to take out his notebook.

Biting his bottom lip, Izuku starts writing every single thing he observes about his classmates' quirks.

He smiles to himself when he realizes how much Bakugo has changed; he's getting stronger now and has learned a technique or two in order to make his explosions last longer.

It's amazing; his lips part to say just that (as he always does) but he stops when he remembers the conversation he had with Uraraka earlier. He takes a deep breath and takes more notes instead.

The only good thing is that he doesn't have to stop himself from praising the rest of his classmates.

"That was great, Uraraka!" He says, beaming at the girl as she slowly gets down until she's really close to him. "I can see you can control better your need to puke. Also, I heard you could make a plane float the other day, that's pretty impressive."

Pleased, she smiles back at him before going back to her spot.

Izuku can hear a few explosions in the background.

"Todoroki!" The boy mumbles in awe; this time he's the one to approach since his break officially ended. "That's a whole new level of heat! How many degrees are we talking about?"

"I still don't know," the boy with mismatched hair says, staring back at him with a soft grin. "I'll let you know as soon as I find out."

"Great! Thank you!" Izuku beams, prompting Todoroki to look away as his cheeks turn slightly pink.

He keeps trying to exercise on his own for a couple of minutes before he gets distracted by Kirishima. He gasps when he realizes the boy can last longer with his body completely hard.

He mentions it out loud, as another furious explosion is heard next to them, and Kirishima giggles, rubbing the back of his neck, almost flustered.

"Thank you, Midoriya," he says, clearly pleased.

There's another explosion, this time louder, followed by a very angry scream. Bakugo has just blown up a huge column of cement.

"That's very manly, Bakugo!" Kirishima comments. Kaminari and Ashido praise him as well, although he doesn't seem to be paying too much attention to his friends.

Izuku realizes he's staring right at him with a frown upon his face.

His lips part, ready to tell him how amazing that was, but stops himself quickly, knowing it'll just end up with the other boy insulting him.

Turning around, he gets closer to Todoroki as he hears a growl, followed by another explosion.

"That's quite enough, Bakugo!" Aizawa scolds him.

***

"Alright. We'll start the sparring sessions today," Aizawa informs, as he walks around the room. He looks at the group quickly before pointing at Todoroki. "You're first. Alright, who wants to go against him?"

"ME!" Bakugo snarls, taking a few steps forward. Nobody is surprised, the blond has declared Todoroki his rival a couple of times already.

"Go, Bakugo!" Kaminari smirks.

"You can do it, Todoroki!" Izuku says almost at the same time. The boy looks back at him with a very pleased, but shy smile. He's blushing. "You have become quite stro–"

Before he can finish the sentence, Bakugo bares his teeth and tackles Todoroki to the ground.

Fortunately, Todoroki has had quite experience sparring so he manages to get Bakugo off by kicking him on the chest. However, he looks really pissed now.

They both do.

"No," Aizawa scolds before they can jump at each other's throats again. "I said sparring. Not dogfight."

He orders Bakugo to step back and chooses Ojiro instead.

Todoroki wins the new encounter pretty quickly.

"You both did great!" Izuku says immediately, already walking towards the boy with mismatched hair. "Todoroki, that was really impressive!"

"Do you really think so?"

"Of course! I think you've also become a little taller and stronger as well! You look ama–"

Bakugo tackles Todoroki a second time that day.

"That's enough!" Aizawa snarls, clearly angry. "Bakugo, get out!"

***

"Did you watch me, Deku?" Bakugo mumbles with a satisfied smile on his face. His team defeated class 1b team in five minutes.

It was amazing to watch. Especially considering that was all Bakugo's plan. Izuku can't help but grin when he realizes that he can actually work as a part of a team.

The frown upon Bakugo's face softens when he notices Izuku's smile.

When Ashido makes a comment to Bakugo about the way he used his explosions to fly on the air, Izuku reminds himself that Bakugo doesn't want an opinion or praise from a "nerd" like himself.

"Jiro! The thing you did with–"

Behind him Bakugo growls in frustration. Ashido is the only one that looks amused by his reaction.

"I was the one in charge!" He stomps in his direction until he's a few inches away from him.

"I... know?" Honestly, Izuku has no idea what Bakugo's problem is now. He wasn't even talking to him!

"Everything was my idea!" Bakugo growls.

"I didn't say it wasn't, Kacchan!"

Bakugo keeps glaring at him, it's almost like he's expecting something else from Izuku, but he has no idea what.

"Whatever!" He huffs, irritated, although he looks a little bit disappointed. He storms away quickly.

***

"I see you have... better control of your quirk now. That's... good."

For a moment, Izuku thinks he's dreaming or that Bakugo is being mind controlled. The rest of the class must be thinking something similar because they all look in utter shock.

They're back in the classroom; they had a training session earlier and spent almost an hour trying to come with special attacks.

Bakugo has turned on his seat to face him, even though his eyes are looking down the whole time.

"Uhh..." Izuku is flustered; he's not used to receive compliments from the other boy. "Thank y-you. You did great today."

The blond doesn't look up, but he nods as the ghost of a smile almost curls his lips upwards.

***

It keeps happening. Bakugo starts giving him advice as well; he gets closer to Izuku after each session and actually talks to him (instead of yelling) about his quirk.

Izuku doesn't understand.

He's also working harder than anyone else, to the point where it starts affecting him physically.

Izuku is amazed by his progress and part of him would like to tell the boy how impressed he is (like he used to) but Bakugo seems to be responding better when Izuku's compliments are not... that enthusiastic.

"Bakugo, even though you're doing an excellent job, you have to take it easy," Aizawa tells him, right after watching him blow up another rock that was on his way.

"I'm fine," he growls, prompting Izuku to roll his eyes at him.

He starts getting worried.

"You need to talk to him," Ashido corners him the next day, making Todoroki narrow his eyes at her. "It's getting worse. He's in the living room now, but he's planning to go to the gym."

"I don't think he'll listen to–"

"He will. Come on, Midoriya!"

Nervous, Izuku nods and shakes his head when Todoroki offers to go with him, he knows he has more opportunities if he goes alone.

"Deku," Bakugo turns his head up to look at him; there are shadows under his eyes. However, he doesn't frown at him.

"Kacchan, uhh... Why don't you take a break?" Izuku smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "You have surpassed all of us already and–"

"It's not enough."

"What?" Izuku can't hide his concern anymore. "What do you mean? You'll only exhaust yourself!"

Bakugo looks away, clenching his teeth.

"I'm not good enough for you..."

The last thing it's said in a furious whisper, but Izuku manages to hear it anyway.

"I never said that!" He's alarmed and confused. Worried about the way his voice gets louder, he looks around, but realizes they're still alone.

"But it's different now! You don't... praise me anymore!"

Izuku blinks as Bakugo finally gets up from the couch to look at him in the eye.

"I thought you didn't like it! At least when I did it!"

"Are you kidding me?" Bakugo hisses. "All my life I've been trying to impress you!"

Feeling his cheeks like they're on fire, Izuku covers his face and groans.

This doesn't seem real, but it must be otherwise his body wouldn't be hurting from the training session.

"You always yelled at me whenever I complimented you so I thought–"

"I'm sorry," Bakugo cuts him off, voice rough. He's staring at his own feet. His eyes are hidden by his own hair, but he sounds like he's desperate. "I did that so you wouldn't notice how much I liked it. It's not an excuse... I just–I'm truly sorry."

Taking Bakugo's face in his hands, Izuku makes him look up.

"I forgive you," he mumbles, cheeks turning red. When he notices that Bakugo seems relieved he keeps going: "I... didn't say anything to you about your progress for the past weeks... But I have a few notes in my journal if you... want me to read them."

"I'd like that," Bakugo says after a couple of seconds. Izuku has never heard his voice sound that soft... ever.

"Great!" Izuku beams, taking out his notebook. Bakugo sits on the couch, trying to fight the smile curling his lips up. "However... You have to promise to go to bed early instead of going to the gym."

"Fine," Bakugo rolls his eyes. He takes Izuku's arm and pulls him closer to him.

"Wait! How do I know you're not lying to me?"

Something changes in those red eyes, something that tells Izuku their relationship will evolve somehow.

He's not sure he's ready for that.

There's a dangerous glimmer in his eyes, but it's completely different from everything Izuku has seen before. It makes him shiver.

"Well... you can always come to my dorm and make sure I stay there the whole night," Bakugo smirks.

Izuku freezes for a moment, feeling as the blush spreads down to his neck. No. Bakugo cannot be flirting with him, because Izuku doesn't know how to deal with that.

He starts missing the insults and the yelling.

"There's n-no need," he stammers. "I believe you."

"Come here, Izuku," Bakugo takes him by the waist and sits him on his lap.

"Kacchan, wait!" Izuku squeaks, knowing he'll die soon if things keep like that.

"Read me your notes," the blond blatantly ignores him, putting his arms around his waist as he settles his chin over his shoulder.

"O-Okay," he mumbles, giving in.

The others find them just like that when they walk back in the living room. Izuku tries to move, but Bakugo's arms are like they're made of steel around him. He cannot move.

Ashido winks at them.

"Glad to see you're in such good terms now," she giggles before joining the other girls.

Oddly enough, after the shock vanishes, the others keep talking to each other as if nothing had changed. Uraraka gives him a reluctant thumbs up while Todoroki narrows his eyes at Bakugo.

"You promised to read to me, Deku," the boy whispers, pulling him closer while Izuku nervously starts looking for Bakugo's page.

He's not sure if he'll ever get used to this (whatever has changed between them) but he must admit he kinda likes it.

***

Patreon

[marycecilyy]

Hey could you do headcanons for the mcl guys (or if not all of them castiel, armin, and kentin) when their S/O is a famous singer? Thank you❤

Oh god this turned out so longer than I expected huahahushaushu

First of all, these are too long to be headcanons, all three of them have more than 1k words each. Also, I changed a bit the prompt. It's more like "Candy has the dream of becoming a famous singer". The rest you'll see... I'll only say that I'm very proud of this one ;)

Castiel, Armin and Kentin with a Candy that wishes to be a famous singer

Castiel

Castiel wasn’t one to be friendly to new students, but he knew you weren’t like any other when you came to him and asked if Winged Skull was one of his favorite bands too. He was shocked to know that there was another person at Sweet Amoris who enjoyed the same bands as him. Yes, bands (in plural). After he answered that, yes, Winged Skull was his favorite band of all times, you started talking about your common interests and discovered that there were many.

He was a very closed off guy, but somehow you managed to break into his skull in a short time and, in a few months, you turned into best friends.

When Debrah came back and that whole situation happened, your fight with Castiel had a lot of impact over you. In your head, you had just lost your best friend forever. Fortunately. Lysander not only helped you recover from the blow and gave you energy to gather your friends and expose Debrah, but also helped you admit to yourself that, you did have feelings for Castiel.

Once she was unmasked and ran away like a coward, things quickly came back to normal. In less than one week, you had restored your reputation, your friends apologized for misjudging you, Castiel and you were once again friends. The only difference was that you knew that you were in love with him.

You didn’t tell him about your feelings right away, you decided to keep your friendship and focus a bit on your lifelong goal: become a music star. You started learning how to sing properly and doubled the days of your guitar lessons. Castiel even helped you get into the music club (they were full when you got into Sweet Amoris, but he found a way to enroll you).

You knew that your chances of actually becoming famous were pretty low, the market was difficult and depended a lot on having the right contacts. That was why, while you tried putting your name out there, your plan was to get a degree in music as soon as you finished high school. Antheros Academy offered a good education and was close, it was your best option.

As you channeled your energies towards your goal, Castiel started to acknowledge his own sentiment towards you. He liked to watch your focused face as you tuned your guitar and your singing voice earned a sweet accent all of the sudden. He always considered you a special girl, but, to his surprise, feelings were starting to develop inside his closed off chest.

That was why, as soon as he won those concert tickets on a raffle, he knew he’d take you there as your first date. Luckily for him, you accepted right away. Castiel had a feeling that night would be something else.

And it really was, as he kissed you, without even thinking it through, when the vocalist sung what he knew was your favorite tune. When you kissed him back, he wrapped his hands over your waist and lifted you up, feeling your warm lips open up for him.

The months that followed were full of bliss. With you and Castiel officially dating, the school had a lot to talk about. Amber pestered you quite a bunch of times, but that didn’t mess with your relationship at all. Everything was perfect, as it was supposed to be.

But that didn’t last long. Right after you finished high school, your dad had to move to another town because of his job and you had no choice but to go too. You were sure that your relationship would survive the distance, after all, you were in love. This situation would be worked out.

Castiel came to your new house a couple of times and you two called frequently, but in the end distance started to grow between the both of you… and it hurt. Knowing that Castiel was sad made you miserable and you decided to break up before it became unbearable.

You lost your count of how many nights you cried thinking about him.

4 years later.

You were zipping your jeans up when you heard a knock on your dressing room’s door. Who could it be? Your parents had already congratulated you over the phone, there was no one supposed to come that night. Did your manager schedule a press interview for after the show?

You put on your shirt and told whoever was on the other side to wait. When you finally opened the door, your jaw almost fell. You couldn’t believe he was there.

He looked exactly like in the magazines, (a bit less photoshopped, but that was to expect. You went through that as well and it sucked). His hair was shoulder-length and he wore a black shirt that showed off the tattoos up to the middle of his arm. He wore some light makeup, most on his skin, which you deduced his manager made him put on. Castiel looked like you expected him to after all those years, but one thing about him surprised you.

His eyes, although more mature and serious, had the same brightness as before.

"Are ya going to keep staring like that?” He asked and you noticed you had just been looking at him for a solid minute.

“Sorry. Come in.” You said and made space for him to enter the room. For your luck, there was nothing private to be seen, you had the habit of leaving your clothes and personal belongings messy and only cleaning up the second you had to go.

Castiel cleared his throat. An awkward silence hung between you. You hadn’t been alone with each other ever since the breakup. You two were two of the biggest stars of nowadays rock music, but you barely had any opportunity to talk. Not that you haven’t tried, it was the opposite. You avoided contact. Your fans knew you had dated in high school (you used to have pictures on your personal instagrams and fans were quick to dig over old accounts to find information about their idols), so they never expected a feat or any kind of collab. Everyone knew that you weren’t on best terms.

You remembered just a couple of days ago, when you were interviewed for one of those talk shows. The host made a lot of personal questions about Castiel and even asked if you would get back with him if you had the chance. You tried to avoid answering, but the public instantly read your unconscious signs: yes, you would.

That was why, you assumed, he was there. To make things clear. After all, because of you yours and his fans started shipping you two and got you on twitter’s trending topics. He probably was pissed. There was also a possibility of him wanting to take advantage of the situation, maybe propose a fake relationship? No, that wasn’t like him. Or was it? You barely knew him anymore.

“So… you probably guessed why I’m here. I saw your interview” You were right, then. “And I want to make things clear.” Ouch. You should prepare for the blow. “Look, we both know time has passed and we’re not the same as before. You broke up to avoid more suffering, and I get that. I really do.”

Castiel crossed his arms and glared at you. You looked back at him with fear, fear of knowing what his next words would be. “But...?” You asked.

“Tsk.” He huffed. This would be more difficult than he thought. “Look, little girl…” You felt a shiver run through your spine at the sound of the old nickname he gave you. You had always loved it, even though you didn’t say it out loud. After what felt like hours, he continued. “I don’t want to be cheesy, that’s not like me. So I’ll just say that if what all of the fans are theorizing is true.... If you do want to try again....”

Castiel took your hand and you jumped in surprise. He turned your palm to him and grabbed a pen from his back pocket. He wrote down a phone number on your hand and let go of it, capped the pen and turned around to go.

"That's my personal number. It’s pretty useful if you wanna call me without having to schedule an appointment with my manager.” You managed to laugh. You knew exactly how these things were annoying.

Inside, you were bursting with excitement. However, you answered playfully “Hm…. I’ll think about it, mr. Rockstar” Castiel chuckled and excused himself, saying that his manager would get pissed at him if he took too long. You smiled.

Maybe it was not over, after all.

Armin

When you told Armin, very early on your friendship, that your dream was to become a famous singer, he got so excited for you. He already knew that you played the guitar and was good at singing, but he had no idea that you wanted to make this your career path.

You couldn’t have chosen a better partner. Being the tech nerd that Armin was, he helped you a lot in recording your covers with the best quality possible considering the amateur camera and microphone you had.

However, the times that his presence most comforted you was when you showed him your new songs. He was always eager to see your composing progress and gave you pure honesty in his feedback, keeping in mind that he was no expert but still wanted to help you.

You always asked him for a way to return his favors, but he always said that it was his duty as your best friend to support you and that it was more than enough having you to talk about all his geek interests.

As time passed, you started to notice that you liked him way more as a friend. Without an idea of what to do, you asked Rosa and Alexy for advice. They were your closest friends apart from your crush (and you couldn’t run to him in that situation, duh)

After a dozen pro tips and date ideas from them, you decided to take Armin to the movies (basic, you knew, but couldn’t go wrong).

When you asked him if he was available Saturday night, you didn’t say properly “Hey, we’re going on a date”. Actually, you didn’t mention the word “date” at all, hoping that he would read between the lines.

And he did, because as soon as you sat and the film started, Armin grabbed your hand that was resting in the armrest and entwined your fingers. You couldn’t pay attention to what was going on screen at all and your attention was completely drawn from the movie when the boy grabbed your chin and brought your lips to his.

You only stopped kissing when the lights went on and the credits started scrolling.

“Hey…” You asked as soon as you two left the place, holding hands with him. “What was the movie about again?”

Armin laughed out loud. He teased you about it a lot before you made him confess that he didn’t know either.

A few days later, it was him who asked you out. You kept going on dates for the next week, all of them simple but interesting at the same time. However, you two weren’t dating. The whole school knew there was something going on between you two by the chuckles and timid kisses when you thought nobody saw them, but you didn’t make things official… yet. But that was about to change.

It was friday and you invited Armin over to “study” (he was sure that the afternoon would be spent between videogames and kisses, but if you wanted to call it a study session, it was okay for him).

As he comfortably sat on your bed as if it were his own, you told him to wait as you brought him some juice. When you came back, he was already grabbing his nintendo switch from his bag.

“What makes you think that we’re here to game?” You teased, handing him the glass.

“Come on, Candy, we both know that none of us are interested in learning orbital hybridization…”

“Maybe I am. I really need a good grade on those tests.” You approached him and held his jaw up so your foreheads touched. With a trailed voice, you continued. “Unless you have something more interesting to do in mind...”

Armin opened up that playful smile of his. “Oh, I do, actually.” In a quick movement that caught you off guard, he threw you in bed and started pampering you with kisses all over your face. You couldn’t stop laughing from how his hands tickled your belly, but you managed to stop him. “W-Wait, Armin!”

He looked at you, confused. “What?”

As you caught your breath, you explained that there was something you wanted to show him first. You got off the bed and went to grab your guitar that was hung up on the free wall of your bedroom.

“Did you compose a new song?” Armin deducted as you sat in front of him again, this time with your guitar in hands.

“You’ll see.” You tuned your instrument under his curious gaze. When you felt satisfied with the sound, you looked back at him. Armin didn’t miss the blush that coloured your cheeks. “I know you’d never do it, but I have to ask even so: promise you won’t laugh.”

You started playing the first chords of the song you had finished composing just a few days before. Usually, you composed simple songs that anyone could identify with, songs about friendship, inspiration, changing the world. You never wrote about your personal feelings. The notes never made you cry.

This song was special, though, because it was about him.

The day it hit you that you had feelings for him, you had the idea of writing random verses that could one day fit into a new song. After your first date, you felt so overwhelmed that, looking at the words, you decided to turn them into a song. You didn’t think it would turn into something so personal and emotional. Every note, every word, everything was clearly about him, that dorky geek you had fallen in love with.

Falling deeper every time

I can’t help but think, oh my

I’m through, but I don’t mind

Would you trade you 2D girls

For this hopeless lover

That just wants your heart?

I’ll just say that he got the message very clearly and, as soon as you finished playing, he practically jumped on you, kissing your lips with such tenderness that you almost teared up.

Of course, he asked you to be his girlfriend XD

Kentin

The first time he heard about your dream, he was still little Ken. It was one of your first days at Sweet Amoris and you two were eating cookies in the staircase. You were ranting about how sad you were that the music club was already full and you couldn’t join. Ken asked you the reason why you were so upset.

“Well… There weren’t those kind of classes in our old school. Learning how to play an instrument and sing, even during extra classes would be so cool! If I went well, maybe I’d be able to convince my dad to pay me for some private classes and then I’d be one step closer to my dream!”

“Your dream?” Ken muttered.

“Yeah! I want to become a famous singer in the future! I know that it’s impossible and even kinda silly, but-”

“No, Candy! It’s not silly at all!” Ken said. Learning more about you made him happy and he didn’t want you to think for even a second that your dream was worthless. “You shouldn't be ashamed of dreaming big. You’ll have a long, difficult path to walk through, but when you get there - and you have my word on that - I’ll be cheering for you!”

“Ken... “ You flashed your best smile at him. It meant a lot to you to have his support, he was a kind person and a very good friend (he did cross a few limits with his adoration for you, but you weren’t bothered by it). You liked being around him a lot.

-x-

“Kentin!” You threw yourself in his arms and gave him a tender kiss. “Good morning.”

Your boyfriend chuckled and held your hand, walking with you through the hallway. You talked about how your weekend had been and, between light smiles and sweet kisses, you thought of how quickly things changed between you two.

When he came back from military school, a lot of things had changed in him, including his nickname. You were facing a new person and it had been a challenge discovering Kentin and building a new relationship with him.

Even though he was a different person from before, one thing didn’t change at all and you noticed it clearly: he still liked you. Obviously he was no longer that guy who professed his feelings to everyone and followed you everywhere, he had found new ways to show you his love. You enjoyed that more mature version of him, but wished he had the opportunity to grow into a man without all the trauma he went through. You knew that most of his growth had been through suffering, and that upset you.

You didn’t know when, but somewhere into your friendship you started to grow feelings for him too. After some coaxing from Rosa and Alexy, you managed to ask him out on an official date.

The whole school already knew that Kentin was head over heels for you, but everyone was shocked to know that you loved him back as your relationship became official.

“Hey, love.”

“What?” You asked your boyfriend back as soon as you got in front of your lockers. You started looking for your books, checking that day’s classes.

“I really liked that video you posted on youtube yesterday. I never heard that song before, did you compose it yourself?”

The book you held in your hand fell to the ground. “What video?” You whispered, eyes wide.

“What do you mean, babe? That video of you singing and playing the guitar. You uploaded it yesterday night. I saw right away, you know I have my notifications turned on to all your videos. I got surprised that you decided to finally show your face and sing something of your own and- Candy? Is everything okay?”

Kentin noticed your face and got worried for you. You looked absolutely terrified.

“That video… How did you see it? I posted it as private”

“No, you didn't. It was public.” Kentin was starting to understand why you were so surprised. He put one hand on your back as you blushed and hid your face on his chest in embarrassment.

“Oh god, I can’t believe I did that! I’m so stupid! The first time I record something like that, I accidentally post it for everyone to see! Dumb, dumb Candy! Dang, now everyone’s gonna know I’m bad!”

“First of all.” Your boyfriend frowned, bringing you close to him. “You’re not dumb, you just made a mistake. And it’s okay, probably just a few people saw it. Last time I checked was before I went to sleep and it only had 20 views. But why are you so upset, Candy? Didn’t you tell me a few days ago that you were finally ready to show your face along with the covers. Did something happen to change your mind?”

“Well, I was not ready to show right away, especially not in a video that I looked terrible in. And it’s not just that. It was my first original song. I never showed it to anyone, what if it sucks?”

Kentin held your chin up and looked you in the eyes. “Candy, it doesn’t suck and you look great in the video!” You closed your eyes and snuggled close to him. “But I understand your concerns. Luckily, that can be solved if you delete the video. You’ll have other opportunities to get famous, and with better videos.”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You reached for your phone and went to your youtube page. “Fu... No way…!”

Your hands trembled. Kentin was right, the video had few views (which was good). Only 50 people had seen it, but the problem wasn’t that. For your bad luck, one of those people had been Amber. You knew that because she had left three comments on your video.

AmberOfficial: lmaooooo

AmberOfficial: Thank you for the laughs. That’s hilarious

AmberOfficial: Just give up already, looser

“That girl....” Kentin grunted, looking at your phone screen. “I swear to you, Candy, I’ll make her regret this. I’ll-”

“You don’t need to, I’m fine.”

You untangled your arms from his torso and started walking away, trying your best to hide how upset you really were. Amber was right, your music sucked. You should give up on your dream of becoming a famous singer, not only because you were bad, but also because you could barely show your face to a few people without feeling like shit. You wouldn’t be able to deal with fame.

Kentin tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. He figured you needed some time alone. He could use that time to think of something to support you and get back at Amber.

-x-

You walked out of the bathroom, your eyes red and swollen from crying. You had already deleted the video, but you couldn’t stop feeling stupid for getting so upset by a few bad comments. And feeling stupid made you even more upset.

When you got to the hallway, it was empty due to classes having already started. You probably spent half an hour locked up, but at least no one would mess with you.

You went to the garden to get some fresh air and wait until the next class started. You sat at the bench, breathed in and finally calmed down a bit.

“Candy.”

You turned around, surprised to see your boyfriend. “Kentin! What are you doing here? Classes have already started.”

He just waved his hand in a “don’t worry about that” way and sat beside you. He kissed your cheek and took your hand, checking how you were. Seeing that you seemed to be more calm, he smiled lightly at you. “So… I talked to Armin. He already found out Amber’s password and he’ll hack into Amber’s youtube account. He’ll just mess with it for a bit, delete some videos and upload some random stuff. Nothing too bad, I promise, just some memes and rickrolls.”

“Hmm…” You muttered, thinking about what he said. It wasn’t right, for sure, but you didn’t feel like stopping them. You were still hurt. “Okay. Just promise you two won’t do something serious, okay?”

He agreed. You felt a bit better, but that wasn’t enough to lift your mood and Kentin knew that. That was why he also had something else prepared. "That 's not all. I did some quick search for places where you could record that music of yours with its deserved quality. You are a good composer, Candy, believe it. Your talent doesn’t have to stay hidden in a dark room with only you, a guitar and your cellphone recording it.”

“Kentin…”

“If you want to, I’ll help you rent a studio and record your song. That would be very useful for your portfolio. I know that’s expensive, but we can find ways to-” You cut him off with a kiss. He cared about you so much, to the point of skipping classes to think of ways to make you feel better. You loved your boyfriend so much…

Lucky. You felt lucky to have him.

“I love you. Thank you for taking care of me... “ You kissed his cheek, happy to have his support. That was more than enough at that moment, Amber’s words were far behind you. All that mattered was that you could go through this.

You had Kentin, and when you had him, you had your whole world holding you so you wouldn’t fall.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 178

Only a day late, but not a dollar short! (I hope)

I just hope this chapter was worth the wait.  I’ve been trying to take the opportunity to explore other things that Sophia does when she can’t really meddle with her family and friends too much.  To be honest, this has been super fun to work on.

Thanks go out to @ifitistobeitisuptous for your engagement, @baelpenrose as always for beta-reading this hot mess.  Also @quantumizedinsanity, @mustachebatschaos, and @dierotenixe for all the ideas we have been bouncing around for shenanigans to ensue and ensue and ensue... The chaos is strong with this bunch, I swear!

After recovering from the workout session, I was still too keyed up to go straight home.  That wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, under normal circumstances; however, I had just enough self awareness to know that spending too much time around them would very possibly violate my probation when I tried to do the job that I swore on a regular basis I didn’t actually even want.

“Sophia. Seriously,” Charly stared me down. “I know you want to help, but we really can get through this without you getting in any more trouble than you’re in already. We love you too much for that.”  Tyche echoed her sentiment with firm shooing motions.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t self awareness, but I was made aware nonetheless.

After much grumbling and collecting some sweaty hugs, I trudged out of the gym and started wandering the corridors. I briefly considered going for a swim, but then realized that going to BioLab 2 held a strong likelihood of running into our resident mermaid queen. A situation like that would almost require me to discuss Teeth with her… maybe if I only mentioned the possibility of getting them waterproof mechanical prosthetics - 

“Bad Sophia,” I whisper-scolded myself. “No BioLab for you.”

“Should I ask why you are talking to yourself again?”

While I did not successfully manage not to jump at the sudden voice, I did manage to take my skin with me and land in a defensive posture, ready to fight. My face was even composed in a calm glare, which was directed at the offending party’s…. Sternum, apparently.

“Sophia, why are you not allowed in the BioLabs?” Jokul asked as I craned my neck just in time to see him arch a skeptical brow. “There are no consular duties to be performed in them, to my knowledge.”

“You would not believe where I seem to find the potential to get in trouble,” I complained, rolling my eyes. “There may be no Council duties in BioLab 2, but there is a high chance of mermaids and I have a very lonely teenager who would do anything to swim in one of our medbays.”

Comprehension dawned on his face just before he nodded and smiled gently. “In such an event, you should definitely avoid BioLab 2.  Fortunately, I myself am headed to BioLab 4, where there are no mermaids and thus no way for you to get into any more trouble than you usually would on a good day.”

Hell, why not. At least Jokul wasn’t on the Council, not likely to be Council adjacent, and certainly not soon to be on the actual thing. “I’ll take the offer.”  We made it maybe three steps before it occurred to me to ask “What is in BioLab 4?”

“Basic horticulture and agricultural training,” he responded. “I have recently started dedicating my enrichment shifts towards learning small-scale farming.”

“Gardening?” I sputtered. “When did you take up gardening?”

He shrugged. “I needed something that burn calories and contributes to the community, but would balance out the aggression I build up while sparring.  I find it…. Very meditative.”  I opened my mouth to ask a question, but he thrust one hand in my face before I could say anything. “I also burned myself quite badly when I attempted cooking or any other pursuit involving heat.”

Sure enough, two of his fingers were entirely missing fingerprints. That took a lot of burns to do. “I’m supposed to be the clumsy one,” I pointed out. “You aren’t coming for my title, are you?”

He laughed at the suggestion, making me glad we had reached the point in our weird friendship where we were actually able to tell when the other was teasing. “I have at least a dozen near-death experiences before I would even be in the running.  But you looked like something was bothering you, and I thought helping me today may be as calming for you as it tends to be for me.”

We turned through a wide doorway into a largish lab - not quite on the scale of BioLab 2, but large enough to be filled as far as I could see with plants in various states of growth.  I had to give the big guy credit, the smell of wet soil and growing things pushed away the cobwebs of frustration that had been building in the last few days.  Without even pausing, he snagged two pairs of gloves and two smocks to protect our clothes from any errant dirt.

When we finally stopped, we were standing beside a bed full of riotous growth, not even a peek of soil exposed. “So, what are we doing today?” I asked, hopeful.

My heart immediately sank when he reached a hand in and yanked an unfamiliar plant up by the roots.  It sank even further when I realized there was no tuber or root veg attached. “Weeding,” he responded, killing my hopes and dreams right then and there.

I groaned before glancing to see if he was joking. A second yank and a second uprooted plant told me he wasn’t. “Jokul, I don’t even know what those are,” I pointed out.

“They are not cabbages. That is all you need to know,” he shrugged. “This bed is for cabbages. All we need to do is pull out anything that is not, place it in this bin - “ he tossed his latest victim into a deep cart “ - and then we will take it to the lab scientists to sort what to keep and what to compost.”

“Wait, keep? Why would we keep weeds?”

He stopped mid-yank and bent his head around to squint at me in confusion. “Sophia,” he said slowly. “We are on a spaceship. Where would plants that should not be in this bed have come from?”

Gods, I felt so stupid, but I wanted to laugh at myself at the same time. “From another bed, right. So probably useful, just in the wrong spot. Got it, got it.”

He threw me a wink and pulled another plant out by the roots before giving it a confused look. “Although I think these may be from another lab… We only grow edible plants in this one.”

Surrendering with a sigh, I started searching for the base of one of the weeds and pulled.

And pulled.

And added a hand to pull harder.

“Jokul, this isn’t budging,” I warned, slightly confused. “Am I missing something?”

He didn’t even glance up. “Leverage. Plants grown in high gravity have astonishingly strong roots.”

Ugh, this was getting worse by the second. I planted both of my feet against the side of the barely-raised bed, grabbed with both hands around the base of the stem, and started pushing against the ledge with my legs. “Stupid. Plants.” I grunted. “So. Stubborn. HRNNNNN - “

The plant finally gave way, but with no warning. I landed on my butt, weed held triumphantly over my head and raining dirt down onto my face. “HA!” I crowed. “Showed you!”

Jokul barely held back a laugh while he shook his head at me. “At least you didn’t hit your head. Conor and Arthur would likely take it out on me the next time we spar.”

“Only if you didn’t film it,” I assured him, tossing the plant in the bin and accepting his help getting back to my feet.

“My hands are too busy to film you,” he pointed out, glancing around. I thought he was looking for a sensor that may have been recording so he could get a clip, but instead he bounded to a volunteer who seemed to be finishing for the day.  When he came back, he triumphantly held up a wicked-looking…

“What is that?”

“Weeding tool,” he clarified.

It didn’t look like any weeding fork I had ever seen. The tool had two sharp prongs at the end, and that was literally where any resemblance ended. Instead of a long body, the prongs sat at the front of a wide, scoop-shaped body with teeth running down both sides. “I can’t tell if I’m supposed to use it to pull weeds, or take out someone’s spleen,” I pointed out, taking the handle and hefting it. Geez, it was heavy for a weeding fork.

“It could probably do both,” Jokul admitted, “but today you’re using it to take out weeds, not organs.”

I had to be careful not to accidentally harvest a cabbage or four, but weeding went much more easily after that.  Once I had fallen into a rhythm, he spoke again. “You were frustrated when I saw you in the corridor. You should talk about it.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. The entire frustrating story started spilling out, and Jokul only interrupted periodically to ask clarifying questions, encouraging me to take my overflow of irritation out on the misplaced vegetation.

“You are worried that the Council will not allow the human to remain on the Ark if they wish?”

“I’m more worried that the S’crirs won’t let them stay,” I confessed, yanking on a particularly difficult weed much harder than necessary. Instead of uprooting it, the stem simply broke, forcing me to dig it out. “I think Teeth is technically considered a minor, so Iz’al and Brol can claim guardianship.”

“But negotiations with the pirates do not depend on the child staying?”

“Nope.” I grunted when the roots finally came out, although I was pretty sure I bruised a cabbage. Whoops. “We already have everything they promised, and the only thing left to give them is their freedom.” Before he could ask what felt like the inevitable question, I kept going. “And no, we are not holding them hostage unless they let us keep Teeth. We aren’t slavers, we aren’t bartering for a sentient being.”

He snorted. “Teenagers are hardly sentient,” he scoffed. “And you also think little of me if you think I for one moment considered or believed you would consider trading for them.”

Pausing from my wanton destruction of plantlife, I flung both my hands to the side. “Charly can negotiate, she really can, and I have all the faith in this world and the next in her, but I worry! And I worry about trying to even discuss the topic with my friends, my family, almost anyone out of fear that I may exert undue influence and get someone in trouble.”

“What is the penalty for anyone who assists you in violating the terms of your punishment?” he asked, pointing to a smaller weed that managed to sneak in between two heads of future sauerkraut.

I snatched it out with one hand, and muttered before telling him the issue. “Same punishment I’m under, plus whatever time they get stuck with is added to the end of my sentence. Kind of an incentive for me to care if they try to interfere on my behalf, like the first half wouldn’t have been enough.  I mean, the nutrient bars are awful.”

“But our hosts have agreed to let the pirates go?” he asked, seemingly satisfied with why I was so irritated and bummed out.

“I don’t knowwww,” I half-wailed. “It doesn’t fall under the purview of my office, and I’m scared to ask Charly or Arthur.  I just have to wait, knowing they’ll tell me, and try not to explode.”

“Charly and Arthur would never keep something that dear from you,” Jokul assured me. “But if you feel you may explode from keeping things in, you are always welcome to come help me. Speaking of which, we have finished this bed.”

He guided me to the next bed of plants, gently asking questions and pointing to more difficult weeds when he could tell I was getting upset. “I have heard that Simon has been negotiating strongly for proper repairs on the S’crirs,” he prompted.

At least that was something that wasn’t upsetting me. “Oh, I heard the same!” I cheered. “All that time he spends fussing with his aquariums is really doing us some good, on that front.” I tried to avoid the thought that Miys shouldn’t need Simon to oversee and double-check the repairs, they should have been able to do it on their own.

My thoughts were pretty transparent, it turned out, because that’s exactly where Jokul followed up. “Sophia, I know it is difficult to know that our hosts have been less than forthcoming since we have arrived in this strange place. It is harder after how accommodating they were during the voyage. But please remind yourself that they are also sentient beings, and there is a strong possibility that this is as frustrating to them as it is to us.”

I wanted to believe it, desperately, but my heart was still broken thinking about where that train of thought had led me last time. “Maybe” was all I could muster in response.

Thankfully, he didn’t even comment on my reluctance. “In any case, you are welcome to come join me any time.  If for no other reason than because there is no need to worry that speaking with me will influence the Council.”

I returned his smile with one of my own. The weeding and venting had, honestly, helped get some of the frustration and pressure out of my system. “Hopefully you don’t change your mind when I start coming in here regularly to fuss your ear off.”

“I doubt that will happen… watching you fall over from one thing while yelling about another is very entertaining,” he chuckled.

I turned in a circle before locating the exit.  I was just starting to make my way there when he cleared his throat behind me. “Sophia?”

“Hmm?”

“Leave the tool. It’s for weeds, not organs.”

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[peach-astrology]

Mars in the houses

Mars in the first house:

1)A very strong and brave person.He can be quick-tempered,but due to his perseverance and strong character,he wins competitions and is a good opponent.

2)Depending on the position of Mars in the sign and its aspects,but in any case,a person(karmically)must work hard in life- both in the external world and in the internal,and especially devote a lot of effort to the formation of his personality.

3)People often fall in love with you.You are very inspiring to other people,please don't give up,you are really cool.

4)I noticed that people in this position have unusual facial features.For example,they have thick or unruly hair, freckles,or a sly and strong look.Most often they are high.

5)They value honesty and realism.They don't like to think much about philosophical things.

Mars in the second house:

1)Hardworking and very fond of money.They like to build a successful and long-term career.

2)This arrangement indicates people who are talkative,it is useless to argue with them.They are skilled in mathematics,earn money through real estate,are interested in politics and say frankly what they think.They sing or have the ability to work on the radio.

3)Bad aspects can indicate frequent financial and property crises.A person spends as quickly as he earns.He needs to learn to control his spending.

4)If a person has Mars in Capricorn/Scorpio/Aries,then he is guaranteed monetary success.He is enterprising,active,sees a large number of opportunities around him and uses them one hundred percent.

5)The good aspects point to the comfortable and favorite work of humans.It works not only for money,but also for pleasure.He is proud of himself and his position.

Mars in the third house:

1)Person is impatient.The last thing he likes to do is wait a long time for a response to his messages.Such a person can show pressure in business situations,and often achieves what he wants through courage and a natural gift of persuasion.

2)By the way,often Mars in the 3rd house has a great interest in technology,and therefore can fix a lot himself in the mechanism of a car,motorcycle or bicycle.

3)Good aspects indicate a strong and inquisitive mind,bad aspects indicate poor memory and learning problems.

4)You are witty and completely outspoken,and sometimes tactless.Active intellectual work is suitable for you.

5)If you have a brother or sister,they may have Scorpio/Aries placements.They can also be hot-tempered,get involved in boxing or make a permanent mess at home.

Mars in the fourth house:

1)He knows how to cool his ardor at the right time.They often want to be in charge of the family.They like to do the renovation and decoration of their home.

2)In 99% of cases,they have problems with their parents or family.Their characters are too different.

3)You may have been brought up in harsh or unpleasant conditions,so you have little trust in people and comfort is very important to you.You don't want to repeat the mistakes of your parents,so you can seriously get carried away with books about parenting and going to psychologists.There's nothing wrong with that!

4)With bad aspects,mental disorders and deep mental suffering are possible.Good aspects increase strength and energy,activity and enterprise and create an opportunity to acquire real estate and implement ideas,plans and goals.

5)I often noticed this position in people who worked hard and studied hard to support their families.They are very caring and loving,but they may not show it because of stress or fatigue.

Mars in the fifth house:

1)You love competitions,arguments and adventures.If you are the captain of the team,then you will definitely win.You are able to maintain team spirit and you are comfortable working in a friendly team.

2)The 5th house sometimes points to our children,so I just wish you patience.Your child may be too active or disobedient,try to teach from childhood to love to learn,otherwise there may be problems in the future.It can also be a Sun Aries or Scorpio.

3)In general,you are not boring.Positive aspects indicate that you are the soul of the company or you are often approached to get acquainted.Bad aspects indicate risky and dangerous actions.Think a thousand times before you do something.

4)I'm sorry to frighten you,but my book says that giving birth to such people is very difficult.Carefully monitor your health.

5)You are a sensual and passionate nature.You flirt well,which makes you even more attractive.

Mars in the sixth house:

1)Perfectionists,so they can be trusted with difficult and responsible work.They may be too lazy or too hardworking.They love to thoroughly understand complex mechanisms and processes,they like to process and analyze information,put everything on the shelves,optimize their activities.

2)Their main goal is not money and career growth.It is more important for them to get satisfaction from achievements and results in order to feel happy.

3)This is a born analyst who logically approaches the solution of problems and tasks.Relies on the brain,not the heart,to make decisions.He is a practitioner all the knowledge that he receives in the process of life,immediately applies.

4)He will try to create the most comfortable living conditions for his family.It is important for him to feel stability and be confident in the future.

5)With bad aspects,such people tend to be picky and grumpy.

Mars in the seventh house:

1)An unpleasant position,there is a possibility of a toxic or aggressive partner.Their partner can be a little brash,rude,or rebellious.On the other hand,it often indicates a partner with a lot of energy and plans.He is stubborn and always achieves his goals.

2)His opponents are strong and assertive,and fights with them often end in serious injuries physical or financial.He often gets into trouble and easily gets involved in quarrels.

3)The bad aspects point to divorce.

4)He was used to acting quickly and confidently towards others.Sometimes he shows excessive pressure and strong-willed influence,which is perceived negatively by others.With soft and sensitive people,such a person is not on the way.

5)You are a great competitor,so you can work in politics,sports or business.

Mars in the eighth house:

1)You are very sensitive to the topic of money and probably want to have more of it than you have now.You reach out to people who already have money or obviously want wealth.

2)For bad aspects,I sincerely recommend not taking out loans or spending property or huge amounts of money.There is a high probability of not paying back the debt and spending money on the wind.Read the contracts carefully.

3)Good aspects create a sense of benefit.Such a person knows who to make deals with,he has a profitable and active job.

4)Monitor the health of the genitals.Avoid fire and cutting objects and treat wounds carefully.

5)They like to explore theories and riddles.They are very curious and they like mysticism,they can like detectives.

Mars in the ninth house:

1)You may have been disliked by your teachers because you tend to express your opinions.You are the kings of discussion and know how to defend your point of view.

2)Such people love to learn.They have a broad outlook,but their brain doesn’t immediately understand the explanation,so they often learn in their own way.Sometimes this position indicates self-taught people.

3)Negative aspects indicate short temper and stubbornness.Such people argue for the sake of argument.Positive aspects indicate fairness.Such a person is interested in the opinions of other people and tries to expand their knowledge.

4)Often such people work according to their own regime.They can be freelancers or have a night job.

5)Very good position for businessmen.A person with such a position has good managerial abilities,purposefulness and great vital energy.

Mars in the tenth house:

1)He is very independent and responsible,knows how to make decisions and is not afraid to take the initiative.

2)He can quickly become successful,and then also quickly find himself at the bottom.His life is an endless series of ups and downs.

3)In the negative aspect,Mars makes a person conflicted,aggressive.In a positive aspect,it indicates success.His career is very important to him.But family and personal relationships often take a back seat.

4)Such a person may have a problematic relationship with his mother.

5)They know how to work in competition.In life(with bad aspects),almost all people are seen as enemies.Maybe there was some kind of psychological trauma.

Mars in the eleventh house:

1)You work well in collaboration with others who share your goals,ideals,and intentions.You can inspire people to work towards a common goal.

2)If he is passionate about something,he strives to bring it to the end and get a concrete result.

3)He's friends with all sorts of people.Nationality,level of education and status in society are not important here.The main thing is to have common hobbies,aspirations and desires.

4)Positive aspects indicate the qualities of an excellent organizer.It inspires and appeals to other people.Negative aspects create problems with people.He is often betrayed or deceived.

5)Such a person never adapts to someone.If you have different views on life or different characters,that such people will say goodbye to you.They don't fucking need to change you.

Mars in the twelfth house:

1)Watch your feet very carefully.Wear comfortable shoes,play football carefully and don’t overdo it with the stretch.

2)He doesn’t give the impression of an active and active person.Others often underestimate him.

3)He has a good imagination.He does a lot of his work intuitively.Such a person can’t always explain in words how he came to this result.

4)Very good position for astrologers,fortune tellers or psychics.Their work is often associated with something mystical or creative.They like detective stories and psychology.

5)You may have quite a lot of energy and energy,you lack confidence or just the desire to put yourself and your interests first.Love being alone at work.You like to help.

[chibichibisha]

Are you ever going to tells us how ermine and deuce first met/how they fell in love, and possibly headcanons?

*CRACKS KNUCKLES* Thanks for indulging me in my ship 💖😭

Disclaimer: This is based on my own universe so some of the stuff mentioned there are part of the cards I'm doing for them, it's full of headcanons too for sure even if I try to stick to canon material as much as I can. The romantic relationship of my oc's are not actually implied or appear directly on cards, so this is me sharing what actually happens outside that! It's quite long lmao

Deuce and Ace first see Ermine at the welcome party the first years have after the ceremonial entrance. They later meet him better on Heartslabyul chapter, as he is still at Riddle's side during the dorm incident, and they do not talk personally or directly. It's when Trey tells them about Riddle's situation and Ermine's first year at the school that they understand that Ermine is just behaving how he is supposed to behave, and it's not the real him. They are the ones that save him, along with all the other residents as well, from Riddle's tyrannical reign and it's when Ermine drops the facade and really shows how he was hurting.

They later have the opportunity to see how Ermine is outside the dorm duties, and they realize Ermine is not at all cool: he looks stressed and panicking all the time, and running everywhere. He also seems very scared of certain students that seem violent. One of these times is when he sees Deuce revert to his delinquent side and lose his cool and since then, Ermine gets terrified of him.

On Ermine's Gym uniform card, Ace mentions Ermine always runs away when he sees Deuce outside the dorm, because of this, and Deuce seems to feel a bit guilty because he really didn't want to scare him off. From then, he tries to be polite and nice with Ermine to show that he is actually a nice guy.

The moment they start to approach a bit more is when an unbirthday party approaches, and Deuce needs to get better at maths, or he won't be able to attend the game nor the party (The story of their dorm uniform cards). Riddle lends him one of his notebooks for study, and Ermine tutores him to help him, because he sees it like part of a dorm obligation at first. Deuce gets happy about it since it's a good opportunity to show he can be a good student and not a scary guy, and he is able to make Ermine behave more like he truly is, and not the "perfect attendant" persona he picks up there.

He respects and holds Ermine in a very good opinion since then, and them, with Ace, start to hang out more too. So it's a natural process of them becoming friends, honestly. The first who falls for the other is Deuce, definitely, and he doesn't even realize first. It has to be Ace the one that jokingly tells him "you surely likes Ermine-senpai more than what you realiza, huh?" which makes Deuce think for a moment, and react with a "Maybe" while Ace jolt surprised. Deuce naturally accepts it in a way. He never fell in love before, he cannot even talk to girls and at first, Ermine didn't even approach him, so he didn't know how it was supposed to be. If the case is that he may like Ermine more than a friend, he is good with it. He is pretty positive, honestly.

But Deuce is not experienced in this, so whenever he tries to make a step, he becomes too embarrassed and Ermine doesn't understand anything, he tries him as he is being an idiot. Fortunately, Deuce is best when he doesn't think too much about stuff, so he ends up being very smooth and flirty when he doesn't intend it. Since Ermine keeps tutoring Deuce because they work well together, Deuce may comment on stuff in a sweet or endearing way that makes Ermine embarrassed. He will stare at him unintentionally or mention that he looks cute that day, just for Ermine to get red and kind of annoyed because he is not taking it seriously, but it's affecting him.

Ermine only starts to consider something like this when Deuce gets used to getting giddy about being with Ermine, showing that off, and admitting, confessing, that he indeed likes him for real. And that makes Ermine reject any type of feeling he might start to have knowing this, because he had always been very dishonest about what he really wanted, and this is no exception. Deuce may say he likes him, but Ermine is not gonna let it happen. Also, he doesn't have very good self-esteem, and Deuce is definitely a good guy, it wouldn't even work.

That doesn't mean, though, that he doesn't think about it, and starts to fall for Deuce' sweet side as well.

The first moment he begins to accept it a bit is during the VDC and the culture festival. Deuce spends two weeks preparing for that and Ermine realizes how different it feels without having Deuce around, which makes him longer a bit for the feelings. He is a bit busy himself so he tries to not think much about it. But when he hears from Riddle that Deuce broke the rules and got out of campus with Epel, he panics a little bit because he doesn't know anything. It's really the only moment there is a misunderstanding between them, because Ermine feels bad during all that, until he is able to talk directly to Deuce, and he does, of course. For the first time he has the courage to really ask him if Duece got tired of the thing they might have, whatever it is, because Ermine is always backing up from that, and if it's the case, he should be saying him clearly. Deuce doesn't understand at first, but when Ermine mentions Epel, he kind of gets it, even if Ermine is not explaining himself clearly. He apologizes because he should have talked clearly to Ermine earlier, but didn't know how to do it. It's okay because Ermine actually trusts Deuce after all that, and that is when it is still a bit unresolved, but they somehow know they like each other.

The flirty shenanigans keep going, with Deuce telling Ermine that he will do his best if Ermine ever let him, until the Star Sending happens and Ermine knows how work Deuce works for the festival to happen, protecting the tree and the stars and practicing hard for the dance, that Ermine realize he really fell after all for Deuce. Looking at him like that makes him feel kind of proud and he finds him cool, he is drawn to him. At this point, he doesn't want to run away anymore from it, he just wants to be with Deuce. So after the festival, when everything is over, he approaches Deuce with the intention to tell him something, he doesn't know what exactly tho. But instead of that, he just kisses Deuce for the first time and tells him he did a really good job. It leaves Deuce speechless, but seconds later he is just too happy about it.

Some dating Deumine headcanons:

Their dates are mostly study dates, to be honest. None of them see this as a problem because, actually, they like to hang out alone, and just talk. Deuce wants to get Ermine into dates outside campus though, and give him magical wheels rides.

He actually did this on Ermine's birthday.

Deuce is definitely more open about it. Once he passes the questioning phase of him liking someone (and a guy, but that's not exactly that important) and that makes him feel embarrassed, he is the type to talk about how cute his partner is and how happy he is around him, because he is really an honest guy.

Ermine on the other hand, is much more introverted about it and even if he is pretty much in love with Deuce, he is still embarrassed and running away from those praises. He doesn't do well with them.

Also yes, Deuce is the more touchy one. He hugs and kisses Ermine most of the time, while Ermine is the type to lean in against Deuce or pull his sleeve. He gives Deuce shy kisses and is much more cuddly as well if he is in the mood.

Ermine finds it endearing that Deuce likes lil chickens and eggs. Yuu told them that there's a festivity in the world where they come from where people believe a rabbit brings colorful eggs to kids. It sounds too crazy for Ermine but Deuce loves the idea.

Deuce is sometimes the intense guy type, and he will mention that he would marry Ermine in a heartbeat, which makes Ermine to call him an idiot, but it affects him.

Everyone in Heartslsabyul knows they are dating because they never intended to keep it a secret. But that just leads to some embarrassing moments of Cater mentioning them being a couple.

Deuce always wants to show how he is able to take care of Ermine whenever he needs it, and how is okay with Ermine being the way he is. He wants to be seen reliable and as cool as he sees Ermine, so that just fuels his goal of being a honor students more. Ermine supports him, of course.

Deuce talked to his mom about Ermine and she can't believe her son is dating someone, she definitely wants to meet him. From Ermine' side, he just told his big sister, and she is also supportive. On the future, Deuce's mom and Ermine's big sister are the ones who helps them the most.

They are the most sweet and lovey dovey when they both are alone.

[alyjojo]

Love Reading 🤤- October 2023 - Leo

Singles:

Overall energy: The Fool

How you will meet: 10 Swords

How they will treat you: The Star

Long-term Potential: 7 Cups

Oracle: Pick one thing beyond your control and let it go. Just like that.

PHOENIX 🔥

- New Phase & Rekindle

- Renew & Growth

- Changed Mind

- Rise From Ashes

I doubt many people will resonate with this, but it’s for someone that’s mentally distraught. You’ve ended a very powerful connection (well, they did), and you’re just waiting on this person. What are they doing? Why did they leave? When are they coming back? It may have been quite some time already, with Wheel of Fortune & 7 Pentacles showing up here. This is a relationship that’s over, done with, 10 Swords & Death. It could’ve been very painful, probably had some level of betrayal involved. The Devil can show something toxic between you, or it’s just showing that waiting on this person, thinking of them, obsessing over this or this fixation you have with them is toxic to you. It can feel like a bond that can’t just be broken, how could they just leave and transform into some completely different person?!?

Because they did. They’re healing, happy, optimistic, they have positive feelings about leaving this connection behind, and from what I’m getting, it’s exactly what they needed to do. This can be a Twin Flame, or you feel it is destined anyway, and on some level it’s definitely something. Karmic, past life, idk what but it’s something. You could be aware of the whole Twin dynamic and it’s actually causing you to be the roadblock in your own way. Pining for this person won’t bring them back. The Fool is what you have to do. Letting go. Moving on, transforming yourself 💯 They already have, and wouldn’t change a thing, because their soul purpose is down whatever path they’re heading down currently. It’s your turn.

LONG term potential: still the same. Confusion, fantasies, feeling unsure of what they want, do they want you, do they miss you, do they think of you? You could be passing up opportunities because you’re under the impression this person could come back. They’re not. The messages show massive differences between you, your values, your personalities. The oracles show this being out of your hands. You were meant to meet. Meant to have whatever you had. And now…you’re leaving whatever you’re meant to find next waiting around, because you haven’t let go of this yet. Sending you lots of healing hugs 🤗

Messages -

Their side:

- I just don’t know what to say.

- You are TOO MUCH for me.

Your side:

- My friends are more important than you.

- I can’t/don’t want to have children.

Signs you may be dealing with:

Aquarius, Pisces, Sagittarius, Scorpio & Capricorn

Couples:

Overall energy: Ace of Wands

Current: 8 Pentacles

Challenge: Page of Cups rev

How they feel about you: The Devil rev & The Sun

How you feel about them: King of Cups

Outcome: 6 Wands

Your person is having an intense month, and you’re along for the ride. Either they’re overcoming an actual addiction, or they’re finally being freed from some difficult thing that’s dominated their entire life for some time. The Devil is here reversed, Addiction is here, even 8 Swords is here reversed. Those were all upright at some point, this person was trapped in a prison…that could be literal for someone.

For most it’s their work, something they’ve put a lot of time and effort into, your person will get to the point they just can’t take it anymore. They can’t afford it, or can’t keep up with something. You miss them! They could never be around, always having to fix some issue or come to the job’s rescue and you’re over here like once upon a time…I had a person, right next to me. The challenge is some immature communication & behavior, acting out, probably fighting with each other. Because you’re sad and letting that be known. This person is actually going to do something about it though, I’m getting they’re fed up.

You two come up as the Cups pair, deeply in love, the connection itself is quite beautiful. Your person is going to overcome whatever issue has been in the way, whatever dominates all of their time and keeps them away from you. It will feel like a whole new life for you both, it’s “freeing”, very positive and exciting even, being done with these restrictive chains. You’re quietly supportive, loving, willing to help however you can, you appreciate your person and all that they’re trying to do for you, with you. You miss them and they miss you too! You could act out and they’re over here like “wait, you don’t want this either? FK IT, I’m done.” Throwing in the towel, can’t wait to stop doing whatever this is. Outcome for mid Nov is success, rising above this burdensome bs. Have faith in your person, whatever they’re stopping or releasing is going to make you both very happy 😊 For someone, it could be a literal addiction of some kind.

Messages -

Their side:

- I imagine us together forever 💕

- Don’t underestimate my potential.

Your side:

- Looks great but…NOT so much 💯

- Romantic 🥰

Oracles - Fresh out of fucks, embracing inner peace ☮️

Their side:

ADDICTION 🍺

- Codependent

- Obsession & Restraint

- Possession & Control

- Emotional Block

Your side:

PICTURE 📸

- Looking at Pictures

- Missing You

- Nostalgia

- Make New Memories

Signs you may be dealing with:

Capricorn, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Leo, Gemini & Virgo