#and added to a list of people never allowed within ten feet of her or something

[lucreziaces]

i'm sorry tiktok needs to die. the entire "become viral" mentality needs to fucking die. immediately. stalking taylor at work and then showing up at her house and waiting outside with phones pointed at her car as she pulls into her garage is beyond disgusting and disrespectful.

[gunpowdville]

The Great Flesh-Eating Cake Incident of Year [REDACTED] (Not to be Confused With the Bifrost Incident)

Chapters: 1/2

Words: 3502

Relationships: Drumbot Brian - Raphaella la Cognizi (queerplatonic), Gunpowder Tim/Lyfrassir Edda/Marius von Raum, The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina (although most don’t show up until the second chapter)

Other Things: genderfluid tim, she/her tim, he/fae marius :)

Summary: Brian and Raph bake a cake. Or, they try to. It doesn't exactly go well. (aka, Why Raphaella la Cognizi Should Never Be Allowed in the Kitchen)

read on ao3 here or read below the cut for people who don't like ao3 (i will post the second chapter. at some point. hopefully soon)

Chapter 1

“Try it now.”

“Is it safe?”

“Does that matter?”

Brian gives her what she calls his teacher look, a combination of calm exasperation and gentle chiding. “I would prefer to not fry myself from the inside out, if I can help it.”

“Boring,” Raphaella accuses, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “And you know I’d fix you if you did.” Well actually, she would get Nastya to fix him, as Raph herself has absolutely no self control when it comes to the prospect of tinkering with a complex mechanism and Brian hates being tinkered on without his permission.

“Yes, of course, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt like hell,” Brian points out. “Not to mention how horrendously it would fuck up my systems.”

Raphaella pouts. “So I installed the flamethrower for nothing?”

Brian hesitates. “...I didn’t say that.”

Raphaella perks up immediately, turning her full attention from the clattered worktable to her partner. Brian straightens up and faces away from her, focusing at the blank wall at one end of the lab. He pokes his tongue around the inside of his mouth a little, probing at the new addition in the back. He tests out flipping its settings, making sure everything flows smoothly, then steels himself and opens his mouth, turning it on. Nothing happens.

Raphaella throws up her hands in exasperation. “I don’t understand! That should have worked! It-”

Brian yelps suddenly, clapping his hands to his throat as the back of it heats up rapidly, too rapidly, the heat growing from gently uncomfortable to unbearable in a matter of seconds. Luckily, his systems react before he can, shutting off the new attachment the second it could cause potential harm. The heat fades almost as quickly as it had swelled.

“Ow,” Brian says mildly.

“That was about to work,” Raphaella huffs, hands on her hips, eyes fixed somewhat accusingly on Brian. “If you had just waited a moment longer.”

“It was about to melt my vocal cords,” Brian points out in retort. Raphaella throws up her hands again.

“My husband is a coward,” she declares to no one in particular, with no actual insult behind it. Brian can’t help but smile softly at the endearment. They’re not married, technically, but for all intents and purposes they might as well be.

“I’ve started to become convinced that you’re simply trying to kill me,” Brian remarks to her as she turns back to the notes on her lab table. She shoots him a brightly malicious look, one backed heavily with fondness. “Maybe I am.”

He sits down on the stool beside the lab table and reaches for her, catching her waist from behind and pulling her onto his lap. She leans back into him as he wraps his arms around her, and he rests his chin on her shoulder so he can peer down at the pages of notes in her hands.

“Here, tell me what I’m doing wrong,” Raphaella holds up the notes so Brian can get a better look at them. He hums thoughtfully as he scans her delicate sketch of his body, each part individually labelled with possible enhancements to be added in Raph’s lacy handwriting. Brian’s own handwriting, cramped and blocky, annotates the science officer’s notes with his own observations of measurements and possible difficulties.

In his mind, Brian overlays the sketch on top of the official schematics the doc left in there, focusing on his throat and the new addition, checking for anywhere where it isn’t wired properly or messing with any of his other systems. Nothing. He bites his lip, a very natural bad habit that he’s never been able to shake, despite it splitting the rubber badly. Raphaella hits him lightly in the side of the head when she notices him doing it.

“I don’t think it’s anything you’ve done,” Brian says finally, leaning back slightly on the stool. “I think it’s simply a matter of too much heat.”

Raphaella ‘hmphs’, taking her notes back from him and setting them back on the table. She turns her head to study Brian’s face, placing her hands atop his where they rest over her stomach. He quirks an eyebrow at her, and she regards him silently. He can tell that she’s thinking through what next to work on, now that their flamethrower experiment is a bust.

He gives her stomach a light pat. “If you don’t mind, I was going to go bake something. Tim’s been complaining that there aren’t enough ‘munchies’ onboard. And yes, that is the word xe used.”

Raphaella slaps a hand to her heart melodramatically, the gesture accompanied by a theatrical gasp. “Leaving me for Tim, are we? Scandal.”

Brian chuckles gently as he rises to his feet, dislodging Raph in the process. “Yes, I’ve decided you’re much too cruel and brutal for me, and I’d be much happier feeding Tim for the rest of eternity.”

Raphaella tosses her hair and turns away from him, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin up imperiously. “Good riddance.”

“Good riddance indeed,” Brian agrees drily, with no heat behind it. Raph glaces over her shoulder at him and grins, and he smiles back as he slips out the lab door, tipping his hat as he goes.

Ivy’s reading at the kitchen counter when he enters. She doesn’t look up as he makes his way into the kitchen proper, wrangling his hair into a wiry ponytail and tossing his hat on the counter. He peeks at the cover of her book and makes an intrigued little noise when he notices it’s about prophets and oracles throughout space and time.

“I was going to give it you when I was finished,” Ivy says without looking up. “I thought it might interest you.”

“It does,” Brian tells her, and she smirks, proud of herself. She still doesn’t take her eyes off the pages. Brian leans over, resting his elbows on the counter, and knocks his forehead briefly against hers, a somewhat awkward sign of affection that’s he’s developed with some members of the crew. She responds by patting his head absentmindedly, still not looking up from her book. He smiles, and turns back to the kitchen.

After a couple minutes of rummaging around in cabinets, Brian becomes aware of Raphaella’s presence leaning against the counter to his left.

“Missed me?” he asks teasingly. She rolls her eyes and pokes him in the arm. “You promised you’d teach me to bake.”

Brian pauses, replaying the last ten minutes in his mind to confirm that he has not, in fact, promised her this. And then he realizes that she’s referring to a time quite a few decades ago, when the two of them had been left back on the ship while the others had been out pillaging a nigh-extinct planet. They’d been sharing some pastries that Brian had been experimenting with, and Raphaella had asked him how he’d made them. He had launched straight into a detailed explanation of exactly which ingredients he had used and what amounts of each, and how he had played with the measurements and tweaked the recipe to see how he could improve it. Raph had listened with utter fascination, and after he had finished she had mentioned that it seemed a bit like her experiments, only with slightly different materials. He had offered to teach her a little, if she’d like, and she had said she would love to learn. And now here they are.

“I did do that, didn’t I,” Brian muses. He studies Raph, leaning against the counter, a sparkle in her eyes that both makes him excited to see what she has in store and fear for his life.

“So?” Raphaella raises an eyebrow. Brian considers.

“We are making a cake,” he tells her, keeping his voice slow, steady, and serious. “A basic cake. We are not going to put anything in it that is not on the ingredients list. We are going to follow the recipe. To the letter. And we are not, I repeat, we are not going to burn down my kitchen.”

My kitchen, Aurora corrects him gently.

“Our kitchen,” he concedes.

Raphaella steps forward and takes Brian’s hands, looking him solemnly in the eyes. “I won’t let you down,” she promises. “Trust me.”

“Phee, I love you to death, and I always will” Brian tells her, lifting her hand to his mouth and kissing the back of it. “But I draw the line at trusting you.”

“Rude,” Raph sniffs, while Ivy tries to cover up a snort.

“Practical,” Brian shoots back, letting go of her hands and reaching past her to pluck the recipe from the counter. With a flourish, he deposits it in her hands. “Find me these ingredients.”

Raphaella mutters something about ‘bossybitch Brian’ as she turns away from him and marches purposefully toward the cupboards. He watches her fondly for a moment, before busying himself gathering pans and setting up his beloved electric mixer, something he’d found being sold for scraps on a junkyard planet and had lovingly repaired and repainted with his own two hands. Its name is Small Brian, and it remains one of his most prized possessions.

“Bri, which eggs are we using?” Raphaella calls to him, her head buried deep in the disorganized fridge. Brian abandons Small Brian for just a moment and pokes his head in beside hers.

“Ah, not those,” he says, indicating a half dozen of jet-black eggs glowing faintly from within. “Those are Ashes’. They will supposedly hatch into a rare breed of fire-breathing corvid.”

“And those?” Raphaella points to the other carton of eggs.

“We’re using those,” Brian confirms, pulling the carton out. “Ah. Wait. Not this one.” Carefully, he removes a small, round, green orb from the carton and places it gently on the counter. “An octokitten laid this. We think.”

Raphaella leans over and picks it up, holding it in the palm of her hand and bringing it up close to her eyes. She looks suspiciously like she’s about to slip it into her pocket, so Brian plucks it from her hands before she gets a chance to. She sticks her tongue out at him. He waves her off to go collect the rest of the ingredients, reminding her that the lovely ceramic pot labeled ‘sugar’ is in fact actually filled with gunpowder, and the sugar is in the cabinet to its right. Meanwhile he goes back to fussing over Small Brian.

The mixer isn’t starting up properly, it keeps stuttering and stopping whenever he tries to turn it on. Brian frowns, tapping the top of it with a metal finger. “Come on, love,” he says softly to Small Brian. “Don’t give up on me now. Not after all we’ve been through.”

“Raph,” Ivy speaks up from her place at the counter, her tone amused. “Brian’s talking to the appliances again.”

“If either of you make a joke comparing me to an appliance, I will kill you,” Brian warns both of them placidly, fiddling with Small Brian’s mechanisms until the machine whines and starts up properly. “Good lad,” Brian says, patting the appliance lovingly.

“I saw that,” he adds when he catches the look Ivy and Raphaella share over the counter. Raphaella rolls her eyes and gestures to him to come approve the ingredients she’s gathered. She hooks her arm through his and tips her head onto his shoulder while he checks each one off against the recipe.

“Excellent, that’s everything. Thank you.” he says, kissing her on the top of the head. “ Now we can begin.”

Raphaella, as always, is a very attentive student, listening well and asking questions when necessary. He suspects that she asks some of the questions just to listen to him talk about something he loves, and he adores her for it. They work very well together, the two of them, bantering back and forth as they do. Ivy chimes in on occasion, never taking her eyes off of her book.

Jonny strolls into the kitchen at one point, zeroing in on the chocolate chips scattered across the counter with a predator’s precision. As soon as he spots the first mate, Brian sweeps a knife into his hand and points it at him. “Out.”

Jonny backs away, throwing his hands up in surrender. He’s been killed enough times over messing around in the kitchen that he knows by now that the best thing to do is back off.

All in all, it’s a shockingly peaceful time. Brian hums to himself as he stirs ingredients together, and Raphaella goes through the cupboards, looking for something to play with. She reaches to open one in the back, and Brian notices too late which one it is. Raphaella stops, tilting her head in curiosity as she stares at the contents of the cupboard.

“Oh, Briiiiiiiiaaan?” she calls in a singsong voice, which is usually a sign that Brian is about to either be taken apart or assist in taking apart someone else. “What is this?”

Brian sighs and sets down the bowl, making his way slowly over to her. She raises an eyebrow at him as he gazes silently for a moment at the dismantled skeleton shoved into the back of the cupboard. “Those… are my bones.”

“Your… bones.”

“My bones.”

“Why…?”

Brian shrugs. “It’s not like I’m using them.”

“Right.” Raphaella studies the skeleton for a moment longer, before declaring, “I’m going to make soup out of them.”

Brian starts. “I’m sorry?”

“Your bones. I’m going to make soup out of them.”

“You are not.”

“Bone broth is a thing, isn’t it? Ivy?”

“It is,” Ivy confirms, casually turning a page.

Raphaella grins, gathering the bones into her arms. “Brian soup.”

“Brian s- no!”

“Brian soup Brian soup Brian soup Brian soup-”

“NO.”

“I thought the doc took your bones,” Ivy mentions, as Brian attempts to gently cajole his partner into giving him back said bones.

“I asked her to let me keep some of them,” Brian explains, tugging a rib out of Raph’s arms and dislodging about three more, which clatter to the floor unceremoniously. “They are mine, after all.”

“It’s unusually sentimental of me, I know,” he adds as Raphaella ducks under his arm, executing a perfect twirl to get the bones out of his reach, “I’m not quite sure why I wanted them.”

“For soup,” Raphaella quips, and Ivy snorts as Brian throws himself at the science officer. Raph yelps and scrambles away from him, and so begins an epic chase around the kitchen, Raph struggling to run away while clutching an armful of bones, the owner of said bones following a step behind her, playfully angry.

Brian doesn’t realize he’s started humming to himself until Raphaella turns to face him, jogging backwards, and asks what song it is.

“It’s a new one I’m working on,” he says, using her moment of distraction as an opportunity to trap her in the kitchen, the wraparound counter devoid of exits besides the one that he is currently standing in front of. “It’s called ‘Raphaella Please Don’t Make Soup Out of My Bones.’”

“I hate it,” Raphaella decides, still backing away. She’s almost hit the counter, and Brian smirks at his inevitable victory.

“You’ve barely heard it,” he argues, and begins humming louder. Raphaella’s back hits the counter, and Brian stops. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, he begins tapping his foot along to the tune.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Raphaella starts, but the other foot has already begun to move as well. Just tapping at first, tap tap tapping to a beat in Brian’s head, but the footwork quickly becomes more and more complicated as he eases into the song. Ivy picks it up quickly and starts tapping her fingers on the counter, taking charge of the beat while Brian continues humming the melody.

Raphaella shakes her head, refusing to let his shenanigans charm her, but Brian refuses to give up. He dances his way smoothly across the floor to her, finishing with an elegant twirl and an extended hand. Raphaella regards him with reluctant defeat, then rolls her eyes and takes Brian’s hand.

He waltzes her out into the middle of the floor, two steps forward, one step back. He spins her out, then spins her back in so they’re swaying with her back pressed to his chest. “You’re a master manipulator, you know,” she says to him. He smiles. She twirls him out, then twirls him back in and dips him, effortlessly holding up his mass of metal.

“I don’t remember this step of the cake recipe,” Ivy comments drily. She’s finally looking up from her book and is watching the two of them with an expression that is equal parts exasperated and amused.

“Which step, the bone soup or the dancing?” Brian returns, just as dry. Ivy is saved from having to respond by the arrival of Marius, who comes striding through the door like an invading general, arms spread wide in greeting.

“Well, if it isn’t my three favorite delinquents,” fae says, grinning like a maniac. “Dancing in the kitchen like- wait. Why is Raph in the kitchen?”

“I’m helping,” Raph says proudly, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a decidedly smug fashion as Brian collects his bones and returns them to their cupboard. “How can we help you?”

Marius pulls up a stool and takes a seat next to Ivy, scanning the pages of her book idly. “Tim stole my partner.”

“To be fair, Tim is also dating your partner,” Brian points out, handing the bowl of cake batter to Raph to finish stirring and put in the oven.

“Sure, but she’s being smug about it. So I’m pouting,” Marius replies, metal fingers tapping on the counter. “Oh, also: Tim wanted me to tell you. She/her for the time being.”

Brian nods, taking note of the pronouns. “Well, when you feel like speaking to Tim again, you can tell her that a cake is on its way.”

Marius raises an eyebrow. “You mean that cake that Raph just slipped something into behind your back?”

Honestly, Brian is surprised that this didn’t happen earlier. Slowly, he turns to Raphaella, who meets his eyes with a mischievous smirk as she slips an empty vial back into her pocket.

“What was in that?” he asks gently, not mad, just curious.

“Just a little something I whipped up,” Raphaella says, giving the batter an experimental stir. An odd squelching noise escapes from the bowl, and she quickly lets go of the wooden spoon as a dark tendril of… something curls up around it, possessive and hungry. “Oh. That’s interesting.”

“What the fuck was that?” Marius leans forward over the counter, curiosity evident on faer features.

Raphaella sets the bowl carefully on the floor and steps away from it, circling around it to Brian’s side. He gives her a questioning look, and she shrugs cheerfully, indicating that she has no idea whatsoever the effect of whatever she put in may be. With somewhat tired resignation, Brian steps forward to investigate what has become of his simple chocolate cake.

It’s… alive. The dark, viscous substance in the bowl has begun to writhe and bubble in a distinctively sentient manner, tendrils forming reaching out, looking to grab hold of something. The tendrils feel their way around tentatively, like a newborn animal learning to walk for the first time. The substance itself has an oddly familiar shimmer to it, the nearly oil-black surface revealing colors of every hue and nature when the light hits it.

“That looks like…” Marius frowns, clambering over the counter and dropping next to Brian as what was meant to be a cake slowly drags itself out of the bowl and onto the floor. “Oh, Raph, you didn’t!”

“Don’t touch it,” Brian advises as Marius crouches near the thing to get a better look.

Marius gives the Drumbot a scathing look. “I’m not a moron, Brian, I’m not going to-”

“Mare, get back,” Brian snaps, but it’s too late. The crawling blob has already reached the violinists foot and has clamped on tightly, wrapping its tentacles up and around his leg. He stares down at it in mild concern for a moment, then says: “Fuck.”

What happens next is hard to describe. The viscous thing sort of… stretches itself, until it covers Marius’ entire body, undulating and pulsing, then collapses in on itself, returning to its smaller form, leaving nothing but a slightly steaming metal arm left where the ship’s doctor once stood.

“What the hell did you do?” Brian demands, staring at the (now slightly larger) creation as it drags its way across the floor.

Raphaella doesn’t respond. “I think it ate faer,” she says instead. Then, “where is it going?”

Brian glances at the floor just in time to see the thing disappear into the vents. He lets out a cry, but it is much to late. It’s gone.

“Well,” Ivy says, staring with vague concern at the open vent. “Fuck.”

[sooibian]

IRS and Prejudice

Pairing: CEO!Minseok x fem!employee Reader

Genre / Themes: Fluff!!! Frenemies to (maybe) Lovers? Office AU with some references to ‘The Office’, flirtatious, cat-whisperer, Aries Minseok vs Aries reader!

Description: In which Kim Minseok is nothing like other bosses. Nothing.

A/N: happy birthday to mochi ari! @his-mochi-cheeks​ 💗

Word count: 2.7k (written in a state of delirium eeeek)

You quickly hit Alt+Tab on the resume that you sat updating for the umpteenth time as the sound of heels click-clacking against the floor grew closer.

“My office,” said your immediate supervisor the moment you looked up at her, a well practised unfazed expression crossing your face. If switching between applications at lighting speed were an Olympic sport, you were certain you’d score nothing less than a gold medal. Yet, somewhere in the back of your mind, you had a niggling doubt about having been caught in the act.

You gave her a slight nod in response, lips stretched into a thin line. Smoothing out the wrinkles in your red and black plaid shirt (the one you wore on most casual Fridays since you could hardly be bothered with your appearance at work; despite the feminist within you, the dull back office team discouraged you from making the effort), you followed her into her office with your best businesslike gait while your mind made up a million excuses for what her keen eyes might have found on your 24-inch screen.

“Sit,” the middle aged woman commanded, resting her hands on her hips. Leaning against her teakwood desk, she crossed her legs at the ankles, pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, and cleared her throat. It’s how she’d fidget when she was on the edge about something.

You imagined your expression if a camera was to pan to you, cinéma vérité. Indulging your curiosity, you shrugged your shoulders with a confused look on .your face

“Everything okay?” You mustered in your best Pam Beesly impression.

Your supervisor let out a deep sigh and answered your question with a more awkward one, "When was the last time you submitted cash reports to the IRS?”

You froze into a still frame.

One of the major reasons you wanted to change jobs was because innumerable responsibilities that were entirely unrelated to your department had been carelessly plonked upon your shoulders. Submitting monthly cash reports to the IRS should have ideally been a task of the receivables department and not shifted onto someone incharge of warranties.

“I - I - ,” you started by trying to justify your negligence before even attempting to answer her question but honestly, you didn’t even want to think about when you last submitted those reports and there was absolutely nothing you could say in your defense.

You’d messed up. Big time.

“Ten months. Ten months is not a small amount in penalties,” she said in her quietest tone as you struggled to fight back angry tears. You’d been with the company for over six years now but it was the first time you’d been accused of laxity. It felt like a punch in the gut.

She turned on her heel to take her seat - movements deliberately slow, allowing you some time to regain your composure. With her eyes on her phone, she leaned back in her chair and said with a sense of finality in her voice, “You know what you have to do.”

Head hung low and eyes lined with tears, you walked out of her office muttering all the things you didn’t say in your defense. The long and short of it was that this duty should’ve never fallen into your lap in the first place. As you paced in the direction of your cubicle (with twenty sets of curious eyes on your back), a pair of hands suddenly gripped your shoulders and a dulcet voice sang, “Careful, Warranties.”

At this point, you were ready to rip your hair out. Looking up you met CEO Minseok Kim’s bright, catlike eyes as he stood at a hair’s breadth distance from you, smelling of expensive cologne - the kind that was equivalent to several months of your salary, and coffee. He always smelled like coffee and in your opinion that was his only redeeming quality.

His handsome face that every woman and man in the office fawned over was a source of your annoyance - you didn’t care for cocksure people at all and he was the uncrowned king of arrogance. He took over the reins of a used car dealership from his father upon his retirement - it was nothing too fancy - yet he enjoyed strutting around the office as if he managed a multinational conglomerate.

It was his younger sister that did the real work. She managed the more important businesses while Minseok had been handed the responsibility of just one company and from your (and the Sales Team Lead Baekhyun's) standpoint, he wasn’t doing a marvellous job at it.

Your Aries energy didn’t permit you to apologize for nearly butting heads with him so you feigned a polite smile and side-stepped to your right and he simultaneously side-stepped to his left, his every little wrong move bolstering your frustration level. It happened again and again and again until he bowed ever so slightly, stretched his arm out and said, “Please,” gesturing for you to leave first, the corners of his mouth curled up in a wide, gummy grin.

What was he so happy about all the time?

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he winked at you in response. You immediately made a mental note to find out if you could report the CEO for improper behaviour. You had a full-blown list that started with his attire - should a CEO be allowed to dress in hoodies, skinny jeans, and comfortable sneakers while the rest of you suffocated in the restraints of formal clothing for four days of the week?

Huffing, you slumped in your chair and texted your aunt informing that you wouldn’t make it to barbecue night and immediately flipped your phone to silent to avoid seeing her colourful messages berating you for the last minute cancellation.

Next, you aggressively typed ‘IRS CASH STATEMENTS’ in big block letters into the sticky notes app as a reminder of the humiliation you experienced today.

***

When you last checked time, it was noon.

The sun had long gone down since then as you tried to wrangle customers’ social security numbers out of the ever-so-reticent-to-share-information receivables department who were all packing up for the day. You were this close to socking them in the jaw but you still maintained a courteous smile and pleaded with them throwing in tonnes of cringey corporate jargon, “Please, I just have three more reports to go and I’d really appreciate your prompt help with the information.”

Suddenly, a familiar cheery voice fell upon your ears, “What’s going on?”

You were surprised to find Minseok still in the office but also extremely grateful for his presence because his single sideway glance at Angela achieved what your five emails and three verbal requests failed to.

Furiously typing away on her keyboard, she said through gritted teeth, “I’ve sent them over.”

Minseok gave you a casual two-finger salute and nearly went skipping back to his ...no, not his but to your immediate supervisor’s now empty, glass-paned office - where you could see him directly and he you - the three walls of your cubicle doing nothing to keep you out of the periphery of his blatant staring and his trademark cheeky grin that lit up his ridiculously handsome face.

Shifting uncomfortably in your seat you returned his smile but not with your eyes. You hated the effect he had on you - making you, a grown woman, blush like a schoolgirl under his self-assured gaze. Minseok was nothing like a CEO - he dressed casually, talked to anyone and everyone like he’s known them forever. He’d come into work regularly after prolonged dry spells only to disappear again. His laidback attitude did no favours to your opinion about him.

To pointedly avoid Minseok you put your head down on your desk on the pretext of catching a little break.

… big mistake.

***

You woke up with a start to the soothing and inviting aroma of... home. Opening your eyes to cinnamon bread drizzled with cream cheese on your desk felt like a fever dream until Minseok rolled his chair forward in your direction and you instinctively backpedaled. Clutching his stomach he broke into a vast roar of laughter while offering you a paper napkin with his other hand.

Brows furrowed, you stared at him quizzically as sleep continued to irritate your eyes and the mark of the ballpoint pen you fell asleep on, niggled at your cheek. Hesitantly, you took the napkin from his hand and dabbed it around your eyes and he shook his head in response, pointing to the annoying curled up corner of his own mouth.

“You were drooling,” he guffawed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Upon noticing that you immediately grew conscious about your appearance, he waved his hands frantically and added, “It’s no problem… I drool too, haha..in fact it’s ...umm..”

You glowered at him and he instantly looked away allowing you to fix your face as his fingers impatiently drummed away on your desk.

The clock struck 7:53 p.m.

Your last meal had been sometime before noon. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve been grateful for the little snack Minseok had brought you - it was an uncharacteristically thoughtful gesture from someone like him but you’d been expecting your period in a week’s time which made you unusually ravenous.

Lips pursed and head tilted to the side, he handed you a bottle of water which you gulped down within a matter of seconds while steadily growing wary of your ultimate boss’ intentions. But you pivoted your attention to prioritizing. First, you’d wolf down the delicious cinnamon bread and then think about whether you were going to walk out of this office on your own two feet or as a human-skin suit on Minseok’s well defined back.

“Thank you for the snack,” you said to him with a forced smile, “I’ll get back to my reports now.” As you swivelled your chair to face the monitor, his hand hooked at the armrest and he spun you back around towards himself.

“What’s the rush, Warranties?” Resting his chin in his hand, he wondered with a quirked brow and a smile teasing the edges of his plump mouth.

It was not your place to ask what your boss was doing in his own office at 8 p.m. on a Friday night, especially one that hardly ever came in to begin with. He could clock in and out at his own whim and sit wherever he liked even if it meant being an utter inconvenience to someone on a stringent deadline but you took your shot anyway. Doing nothing to mask the sarcasm in your tone, you said to him, “Minseok, if you came into work everyday, you wouldn’t have to stay back so late, you know.”

Unfazed, he responded, “But my schedule doesn’t allow me to come into work everyday.”

Schedule?

You decided not to stretch this conversation longer than necessary, especially not after his ridiculous response. Drawing in a deep breath, you said, “I just have five reports left to finish, Minseok. Maybe we can talk later.”

“I run an organization involved in wildlife rights and care,” he explained anyway, rummaging the pockets of his jeans.

No shit, you scoffed. If only Minseok Kim could get any more predictable. A not-for-profit organization was every rich kids guide...no facade...no scam.. to make it seem like they actually did something.

Handing you a card, he continued, “It requires me to travel extensively - last month I was in a park in South America, working with this one puma, Elsa. She was a cage cat who got so used to the confines that she wouldn’t come out of the cage for walks in the jungle because she didn’t like anyone touching her collar, so we couldn’t attach a rope to walk with her. But, I think I’m somewhat of a genius and a cat-whisperer. Within three to four weeks, we managed to get her out of the cage.”

He pulled his phone out next, brought his chair closer to yours and started swiping through the picture gallery to show you a magnificent puma walking around the park as if she were its reigning queen. He resumed the story proudly, “Now she walks every single day, without a rope around her neck. And she’s very, very loving and affectionate.” His face lit up with awe and admiration for Elsa.

Probably you'd misunderstood Minseok…just a little. His passion about his organization did something to favourably change your opinion about him but that didn't mean you didn't have your immediate supervisor and the IRS to answer to anymore.

"Why are you telling me all this?" You asked, covertly moving closer to your workstation.

"We have a vacant position in Treasury." He answered and you immediately stopped dead in your tracks.

Mouth agape, you exclaimed, "You did not just try to poach me from your own company! Minseok you don't cease to surprise me -"

With a smirk on his face, he gave you finger guns. "That’s always been the goal, Warranties!"

"I still have five-

"Three..you have only three reports left. How stupid do you think I am?”

Caught in a lie, you could do nothing to save face so you simply pivoted your chair only to be forcefully twirled back by his strong arms again.

“Now what?" You asked, letting out a groan.

With his foot on one leg of the chair base, he pushed you back towards your desktop and said with a voice laced heavily with his trademark sass, "Check your inbox first."

Grumbling under your breath, you said something along the lines of ‘what does a CEO do anyway’. You then refreshed your inbox, impatiently waiting for an email of several MBs to load as Minseok watched you with an expression of victory painted across his features.

Your mouth fell open to find perfect to the t cash reports for the last three months which made you instantly regret your snide remarks.

Minseok snapped you out of your reverie with his smooth voice, “I may not know much of what a corporate CEO is supposed to do but I do how to get work done. Angela was more than happy to do this for a ‘team leader’ nameplate on her desk.”

Struggling to hold his compelling gaze, you muttered, “I don’t know how to thank you...”

“But I do!” He quipped.

“Of course, you do,” you sighed.

“Let me join you for barbeque night at your aunt’s..i’m sure they won’t mind you bringing a friend along?”

Before you could begin looking for a bug in your cubicle, he explained, “I caught a preview of her message on your phone while you were happily tucked away in dreamland.”

“You - you - that’s an invasion of privacy!” You lambasted him.

Stifling a yawn, he leaned back in his chair and said casually, “I was bored. Besides, privacy is a myth in today’s day and age...just like democracy, the importance of drinking eight glasses of water a day, the goldfish memory, or the thing about houseflies -”

“Okay, okay! I get it! Privacy is a myth. You - you can join us, I guess,” you interrupted him.

With widened eyes he emphasized, “Unless you don’t want me to -”

No matter how much and how often Minseok irked you, he was a charmer. You knew your aunt and your cousins would love having someone like him join in the get together and it really wouldn’t hurt your reputation to bring your boss, especially one like Minseok, along at a family event. You also couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your belly at the prospects of working in an NPO’s treasury department.

“You know that’s not what I meant -” You replied, eyes on the monitor as you double checked the email you’d drafted for your immediate supervisor.

“So you want me to come along?” He asked in his flamboyantly flirtatious tone.

Ignoring him, you hit send only after adding a little smiling emoji. Shutting down your system, you picked up your coat and answered with a genuine smile this time, “I’m driving.”

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

A/N: the story about puma Elsa is real! i’ll link it in one of the rb’s for those interested :)

[uh-drarry]

Day 31 - Champagne

This is from the wonderful list posted by @remus-john-lupin ! Thank you so much to @bisexualronaldweasley for beta-ing, you’re such a lovely human ♥️ These are within the universe of my other content, but you do not have to read those to understand these.

Thank you do everyone who liked, reblogged, replied, and read these little things. I’d never really written fic before these so this was truly an experience. I did not think that I’d actually stick with this, so I’m pretty proud of myself despite some of them certainly being questionable quality. Either way I like them all, and that’s what counts. Happy New Year!

December 31, Plas Dinas Country House, Wales

Remus was already a nervous wreck, and he still had two hours until he’d need to be ready. He knew it was going to be the best New Year’s of his life, but the excitement merely added to the anxiety.

There was a knock at his hotel room door, then a soft, “Remus?” Remus sighed in relief and opened the door to find Lily on the other side. She gave him a big smile.

“Two hours, babe!” Lily bounced on her feet.

“I’m so nervous. And so excited. Are you getting ready soon?”

“Yeah, the hair and makeup people are coming here in just a few minutes, oh, and the photographer,” she replied, walking around Remus to jump onto the bed. “You’re moving rooms tonight, right?” she asked, looking over to him.

“Yeah, we’re staying in some presidential suite I think, I’m not sure. I was told my bags would be moved for me.” Remus shrugged.

Lily jumped up then and ran to the closet. She threw open the doors to reveal Remus’s suit and her dress. “We’re going to look so good!” she squealed.

There was another knock on the door, and before Remus could even move, Lily was running over to let in the hair and makeup team, the photographer, and Remus’s mother. The room quickly filled with chatter. Lily sat down first, since she would take the longest of the two of them. Remus’s mum came over and gave him a tight hug. Remus could hear shutter clicks somewhere in the room, but he ignored them.

“Remus. I am so happy for you.” Hope’s eyes started filling with tears. “I can’t believe my little boy is getting married.”

“Mum, if you start crying, then I’m going to start, and I don’t want to be all puffy.” Remus chuckled, wiping his mum’s tears off her cheeks. “Good thing they’re giving you waterproof mascara, right?”

“Oh shush, you. I am allowed to cry at my only child’s wedding. Especially when I can see how happy Sirius makes you. I held it all back until now, I think I’m doing pretty well!”

“You are, mum.” Remus smiled.

“Remus! Do you want my hair down and curled lightly, or up in that bun, you never said,” Lily asked from across the room, breaking through the bubble he and his mum had created.

Remus kissed his mum on the cheek and walked over to Lily. “Well the back of your dress has that pretty scoop thing, I think your hair is too long to show that if you wear it down. What do you think?” “Yes, you’re right. We were thinking of doing this type of hairdo.” She showed the stylist a picture on her phone and they were back to business.

Lily smiled at Remus in the mirror. “James will love me showing that, too. His favorite freckle is right there.”

Remus laughed and rolled his eyes. “He would.” And then it was his turn to start getting ready.

Remus was sitting down, eyes closed, breathing deeply in an attempt to control his nerves. Lily took his trembling hands in her own. “Hey, Remus, it’s all good.”

“I know, I’m not getting cold feet. I’m just too excited I think. Oh gosh, what if I trip?”

Lily laughed. “You won’t trip, babe. Your mum won’t let you, right, Hope?”

“Never!” Hope called back from where she was chatting with his dad, who’d shown up about an hour ago.

And then it was time to leave for the ceremony. They had ten minutes precisely to arrive at the doors. By the time they got there, Sirius would already be at the end of the aisle, and all the guests would be seated. 

James came up behind Lily, startling her into a laugh. “Hello, gorgeous wife of mine. May I escort you down the aisle, Mrs. Potter?”

James and Lily were the only ones who’d be standing beside them for the short ceremony. They had other friends sitting in the audience, but having just the two of them up there, Sirius and Remus’s two ‘best people,’ felt right.

At exactly half past the hour, the music started. The ushers waited for just a moment, then opened the doors for Euphemia, Fleamont, and Lyall to make their way down to their seats. Next, James and Lily walked together, and they made their way to Sirius. The guests had been tasked with flower girl duty, and showered the walkway with white petals as the two walked past, readying the way for Remus and Hope.

His mother turned to him and placed a hand over his cheek. “I’m so proud of you and Sirius. I love you both so very much.”

“Thank you, mum.” Remus leaned in for a kiss to the cheek, and then it was their turn to move.

Remus had yet to actually see Sirius, and when he finally did, the tears began to fall. Sirius looked gorgeous, his shoulder length hair half up and half down. He wore sparkling silver makeup that he no doubt did himself. He was beaming at Remus, matching tears flowing down his cheeks.

When Remus and Hope reached the end of the aisle, Hope turned to give him a hug and another kiss on his cheek, and then Remus turned and placed his hand in Sirius’s.

The ceremony was, of course, perfect. But Remus could hardly pay attention when the most beautiful man was standing in front of him. He was minutes away from being allowed to kiss him as a husband.

They exchanged the rings that they had used to propose just over a year ago, both of them remembering the snowy walk and Sirius’s dramatics. 

After a few more words about their rings, the officiant paused and then finally, announced, “You may now kiss the groom!”

As soon as their lips touched, the clocks struck midnight. Confetti rained down on the guests, who were cheering congratulations and wishes for a happy new year.

Remus and Sirius finally pulled away to look at each other. After just a moment of tranquility, something wet showered down on them, and they turned to find James and Lily holding a popped bottle of champagne each.

“Don’t worry!” Lily yelled over the celebration and the music that meant the reception was already in full swing. “We have a change of clothes for you!”

Remus and Sirius looked at each other again before bursting into laughter, leaning in for the second of an infinite number of kisses as husband, and husband.

Ficmas Masterlist

Masterlist

[shakespeareanwannabe]

Best Laid Plans

Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia x F!OC

Summary: A sequel to ‘Protective Instincts’. The last 7 and a half months have been a whirlwind, and part of Pope still can’t fathom the idea of being a father. But now that his kid is here? All bets are off. *Still based off of the wonderful headcanons by @darksideofclarke*

Warnings: Pregnancy fic (so, again, if you aren’t vibing with it, don’t read it), swearing, references to birth (it’s nothing graphic, just mentions of water breaking, contractions, and epidurals), references to breastfeeding

A/N: Hi everyone! I was blown away by the response to ‘Protective Instincts’, so I wrote a sequel that’s based off of part of one of clarke’s headcanons. This was so fun to write, and I’m really wanting to write more about Bex and Pope, and Pope and Frankie, and the baby, so I’m hoping you all enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first one! If you want to be added to the tags, please let me know. I just used the tags list from ‘Protective Instincts’ for this one.

                                                    **********

Pope was a planner. Not as good as Tom, mind you, but he could plan an operation with the best of them. That was, after all, how he had convinced his closest friends to help him take down one of Colombia’s biggest and most dangerous narcos.

“Just look at my work on it.”

That was the phrase he used on all of them, but he had been banking on their loyalties as well. He had known going in that Benny would only need him. He had figured that a tiny twist of Catfish’s arm and Pope’s record of getting into deep shit when Frankie wasn’t around to stop him would be enough to encourage Catfish to join them. Will had needed Tom, Tom had needed Pope’s workup of the mission. Planning. Having a rough idea in your head of how people will react was a big part of planning an op and putting together a team.

Bex’s birth plan was viewed in the exact same light. He hadn’t been lying to her when he told her that whatever she wanted to do, they were going to do. If she had demanded that she give birth while standing on her head, Pope would have found a way to make that happen, doctors be damned. So, Pope made sure that her birth plan was as detailed as any highly classified military operation.

That document became like a Bible to Pope. He sat with Bex as she painstakingly went through every single option, checking off certain boxes and rolling her eyes at others.

“I swear to God, babe. If they try to show me the birth through a mirror, I might kick a nurse in the face,” she had laughed. Pope had laughed as well, knowing his sweet tempered girl would never do such a thing but also knowing that, when the time came, if someone tried to bring a mirror into the room when his girl hadn’t requested it, he would be raising hell on her behalf.

Of course, he knew that things never ran as smoothly as you planned. Colombia had been proof enough of that, but he held tight to the birth plan, taking comfort in the knowledge that, by knowing what it was Bex wanted, he would be able to do some small part in assisting her through her labor and delivery. Of course, he would stay in the room with her (just him and the medical staff, no friends or family would even know about the labor until at least 4 hours after the kid arrived) and let her squeeze his hand and yell at him if she needed to, but Pope was a man of action. He faced situations head on, guns blazing. This...this was one situation where he would be almost helpless, watching as his girl fought to bring their kid into the world.

The birth plan was his tether. Bex had outlined every single thing she wanted to happen before, during, and after the birth.

“Of course, if things go south, you tell them to fuck the plan and do whatever they need to do,” she had reiterated several times over the course of building and rebuilding their plan. And when Bex’s water broke at 1 p.m. that cold November afternoon, Pope knew within the span of her first contraction that he would indeed tell the medical staff to fuck the plan if there was even the slightest notion of something being wrong. He was not losing his girl or their baby due to his stubbornness in sticking to a plan.

Luckily, it went as smooth as it possibly could have gone. Nobody brought any mirrors into the room. She had been able to walk laps up and down the hallway to help herself along. Bex had caved around midnight and begged for an epidural, which Pope had been quick to sooth her about.

“Baby, you’ve been at this for almost 12 hours,” he had whispered into her sweaty hair, wiping a cool rag over her forehead as she squeezed his hand and tearfully whispered that she wanted the injection. “You’ve done everything you can naturally. The laps and the breathing and the exercises…Baby, I know Marines who would have given up and asked for pain meds hours ago,” he had laughed. “You’re fucking Wonder Woman, baby. I’m so proud of you.” He smiled and kissed her forehead as she gifted him with a tired but grateful smile. “Our kiddo is just being a little stubborn right now, okay?”

“T…takes after their daddy,” she chuckled breathily.

“God help us,” he laughed, pressing another kiss to her forehead as she winced, another contraction overtaking her body. Pope hit the Help button by her bed and waited for the nurse to come so they could inform her of the change in their plan.

Finally, at three o’clock in the morning, Liliana Esperanza Garcia was placed onto her mother’s chest with an angry cry. Pope stayed right by Rebecca’s side the entire time, having no interest in cutting the umbilical cord and the idea of catching his daughter as she was born was more than a little terrifying to the seasoned veteran, so he remained at his post at Bex’s bedside and cried alongside his two girls.

                                                      **********

Watching the sunrise through their hospital room window, Pope sat with his little girl pressed against his bare chest and thanked god that they had decided on a hospital that allowed fathers to do skin to skin contact with their kids while still at the hospital. He reveled in the feel of her tiny cheek pressed against his chest, right over his heart. The feel of her heartbeat hammering against his skin was addicting and soothing at the same time. He had never known peace like this.

Frankie had been right. Of course he had been, he nearly always was. Holding Lily in his arms somehow made up for Afghanistan, Iraq, Colombia, and every other fuck up in his life. This little thing in his arms that couldn’t function on her own, that wouldn’t be able to for a long time, had already done so much good. It would be months before she could even hold her own head up, but, somehow, she had managed to erase all the red in his ledger, simply by breathing.

Of course, her mother helped. Pope looked over at Bex, asleep in the hospital bed beside him. His warrior queen. She had given him this gift, put her body through unimaginable change and pain for their little family, and she had done it with a smile on her face (most of the time). He would never deserve her, but he was so damn glad that she somehow saw the best in him, that she chose him on a daily basis.

“Remember when I said we have to be good to Mamá?” he whispered, brushing his lips gently over Lily’s dark downy baby hair. “She worked so hard to bring you here. We’re always gonna owe her, mija.”

“Knock, knock,” a soft voice called from the sliding glass door of their private room. Pope looked up and smiled, laughing softly at the sight in front of him.

Benny was weighed down by what looked like seven or eight large stuffed animals, an “It’s a Girl” balloon flying over his head. Will stood next to him, a look of fond exasperation on his face as the balloon gently bonked him on the head, and a bouquet of white lilies in his hand. Frankie, the one who had knocked, was slightly in front of them both, a kind smile pulling at his lips as he took in the small family in front of him.

“Hey fellas,” he whispered, carefully pulling himself to his feet with one hand and nodding to them to come in, eyes never leaving his daughter. “This is Lily.”

“She’s beautiful, man,” Benny whispered, his eyes growing shiny.

“Congratulations, Pope,” Will echoed, gently clasping Pope’s shoulder.

“How’s Momma doing?” Frankie whispered, maneuvering himself to stand just over Pope’s right shoulder so he would have a good view of the sleeping baby girl.

“She’s a warrior, man,” Pope peered over his shoulder at his sleeping girlfriend, and every single one of the hardened soldiers could see the love and awe in their Lieutenant’s eyes. “Fuck, I don’t know how she did it.”

Frankie choked back a laugh. “You’re gonna want to watch that language now, Papá. Little ears and all that.”

“The swear jar will end up paying for her college tuition,” Benny jabbed, jostling with his armload when Will gave him a smack.

“Benny, you can put those on the table over there, man,” Pope told him. “Just be careful not to wake Bex.”

“Too late…” a soft warm voice announced, making Pope’s heart flutter.

“Hey baby,” he sighed happily, turning back and slowly walking over to sit on the edge of her bed. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not long enough,” she laughed as she held her arms out. Pope gently deposited their daughter in her mother’s safe embrace before shaking out his hands. He’d carried loads ten times her size, but something about the position made his wrists ache. “Hey princess,” she cooed, running a soft finger over their daughter’s chubby cheek. “How long was I out?”

“Just over an hour,” he smiled as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead before moving to the recliner to put his shirt back on. “Look who’s here.”

“Hey guys,” she smiled tiredly at them. “Forgive me for not getting up to hug you but…” she shrugged as she nodded down at the baby in her arms.

“Congratulations, Momma,” Frankie smiled as he swooped in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Charlie figured you wouldn’t want to eat a crappy hospital breakfast, so…” he held up the cooler in his hands. “We made a little feast for you, if you’re up for it.”

Rebecca groaned. “Oh my god, tell me your waffles are in there.” At Frankie’s nod, she groaned again. “Ugh, I am so up for it, Frankie. Thank you! Just, uh…” she trailed off as she looked down at her hospital gown clad body. “I think I want to take a shower first if that’s okay?”

Pope swooped in to relieve her of Lily and Frankie helped her stand up.

“You need me? Or do you want me to call a nurse?” Pope asked.

“You stay here with Lily and the guys,” she decided. “I think I can handle it on my own but keep an ear out?” Pope nodded and she smiled as she kissed him on the cheek. “Will, could you pass me my—” Will already had her bag extended to her. She laughed. “Thanks.”

“Milady,” Benny extended an elbow to her and helped her shuffle across the floor to the ensuite bathroom.

She winked as she began to pull the door closed. “See you guys in an hour,” she joked.

“Take your time, baby,” Pope called, quickly adjusting to softly shush Lily as she whimpered.

“Can’t believe you’re a dad now, man,” Benny laughed as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Out of all of us, I never would’ve had you down as a family man. I mean, c’mon. The guy who slept with every informant he had now has a daughter? Karma’s gonna bite you on the ass, dude.”

Inwardly, Pope rolled his eyes. Sometimes it was easy to forget how much younger Benny was compared to the rest of them. He hadn’t been anxious to settle down when he was Ben’s age either, but now? He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like without waking up every morning next to Rebecca’s smiling face. And Lily? She was less than six hours hold, and she already had Santiago wrapped around her little finger.

“Things change, Benny,” Will calmly informed his little brother. “Now, what do you say we go get some drinks for everyone? See if we can scrounge up some actual coffee in this place?” Ben shrugged but nodded as Will approached the bathroom door and lightly tapped on it. “Hey Becca? We’re going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

“An orange juice would be great, thanks Will!” she called back before the sound of the shower turning on pervaded the room.

As Will guided Benny out of the room, he turned back and shot a wink at Pope, causing him to laugh. They all knew that Ben was a lot to handle, and Will had gotten good over the years at judging when one of his friends were about to pop his little brother one. For all the MMA training and fighting Benny did, he was kind of clueless when it came to the tempers of his friends.

Pope settled down on the edge of the mattress, unable to look away from Lily, even as Frankie sat down next to him.

“I just can’t stop looking at her, man,” he admitted softly.

“Take it all in, hermano,” Frankie grinned. “You’re gonna blink and she’s gonna be off to kindergarten.”

“Malo,” Pope muttered to him under his breath and Frankie laughed. He dragged his eyes away from his sleeping daughter to smile back at his best friend. “You want to hold her?”

Frankie blinked and raised a hand to scratch at the hair under his cap. “You sure?” he double-checked hesitantly.

Pope slowly and carefully placed the sleeping baby in Frankie’s arms. She snuffled for a brief moment before falling back asleep.

“Hola, corazon,” Frankie whispered, stroking a finger over her dark hair. Frankie looked up to meet Pope’s eyes, tears glimmering in both their eyes. “Shit Santi…” he breathed.

“I know…” The two men sat for a long moment in silence, Lily’s quiet breaths and the sound of the shower in the background washing over them. “I…I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, Frankie,” Pope started quietly.

“Huh?” Frankie didn’t take his eyes off the baby.

“When Mateo was born…I shoulda been here,” Pope scratched at the back of his neck.

Frankie shook his head at Pope. “Bro, stop. You were in Colombia doing what you had to do. And you’re here now.”

Pope sighed. “I don’t think I coulda done this without you, Frankie,” he whispered. “Shit, I might’ve just kept driving that night. I coulda missed all of this. I could’ve missed her.” Pope reached out a finger and slowly stroked Lily’s fist until she opened her hand and weakly grasped his finger.

“You would’ve come back, man. Don’t kid yourself. You don’t leave jobs unfinished,” Frankie said simply because, to him, it was simple. You didn’t follow a man into war zone after war zone without getting to know every facet of their personality. Santiago Garcia never left a man behind, and never left a job undone. It’s why he was Frankie’s best friend. There was so much loyalty, so much trust, between the two of them.

Pope laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ve got the kid, now I’ve just gotta get the girl.”

Frankie watched as Pope dug into his jacket pocket, draped over the side of the recliner, and pulled out a navy-blue plush box. Cracking it open, Pope tilted the box towards Frankie so he could see the square amethyst jewel sitting in a simple gold band.

Gently, Frankie unfolded one arm from underneath Lily and gave Pope a shove before quickly resuming his position.

“When?”

Pope shrugged. “I’ve had this stupid thing for months, man. But I didn’t want to give it to her then because I didn’t want her thinking it was just because she was pregnant. Part of me wants to give it to her now, but I don’t want her thinking it’s just because she just had my kid, you know?”

Frankie nodded sagely. “I get it.”

“Maybe in a couple of months?” Pope asked, looking between the engagement ring and his best friend.

“First date out without the kid could work,” Frankie agreed.

“Maybe Lily could spend some time with her godfather while her Mom and Dad go for dinner or something?” Frankie kept nodding. “Would you like that, Lily?” Pope murmured, leaning over his friend’s shoulder to speak to his little girl. “You want to spend some time with Tío Frankie?”

Frankie’s head shot up. “You mean…?” Pope chuckled, a smile pulling at his lips. “Dude, I was kidding about calling…You don’t have to…”

“Frankie…” Pope clasped his best friend’s shoulder. “There’s no one we trust more than you. Will you be Lily’s godfather?”

Pope watched as Frankie swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared down at the little girl in his arms as she began to fuss.

“Shh, corazon…” Frankie soothed, rocking her back and forth as he stood up to pace the room. “Tío Frankie has you.”

Santiago couldn’t help but smile. If someone had told him even five years ago that he would be at a hospital, just a few hours after his daughter was born, planning to propose to the mother of his child with the help of his best friend, retired Second Lieutenant Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales, who was now a married man with a son and another kid on the way, he would have asked what kind of crack they were snorting and to point him in the direction of their drug dealer.

Guys like them didn’t get the happy endings. They got the beginnings of the fairy tale, the girl and the glory of returning home after war, but after the ‘Happily Ever After’, they got the nightmares and the divorces and the dual mortgages and the child support. They ended up like Tom, so deep in the trenches that they cave in and bury you.

At least, that’s what Pope thought when he signed on for private sector work in Colombia. He wasn’t ready to give up the thrill of the chase, the ‘good work’ he was doing, to face the shitshow that would inevitably be waiting for him at home. When Colombia had ended up being the shitshow, and Yovanna had seen right through him and sent him packing, he thought that was it. The end of his rope, the end of the line.

Moving closer to Frankie had been a godsend. Pope would always credit him with having literally saved his life. Getting to watch how Frankie handled it all, seeing him interact with Charlie and Mateo, standing next to him at the simple courthouse wedding. Frankie was living proof that life went on even when he didn’t have the flag on his shoulder anymore. Proof that ‘Happily Ever After’ didn’t have to fall flat. And, if Pope hadn’t moved close to Frankie, Charlie never would have gotten him the physiotherapy consult at her clinic, and he never would have met Bex. He never would have learned that guys like them could have happy endings, so long as they fought for them with as much vim and vigor that they fought every other battle of their lives with.

“Hey Papá,” Frankie called with a laugh, pulling Pope from his thoughts. He turned to see Frankie holding Lily out to him carefully as she started to cry.

He hurried to cradle his daughter against his chest, quietly humming to her in a feeble attempt to get her to settle. “Shh, baby girl. You’re okay. Papá’s here.”

Bex appeared in the bathroom doorway, her skin dewy from the shower and her hair thrown up out of her face. “I think she might be hungry, babe,” she called over their daughter’s cries. She walked over to get herself settled on the bed, wincing every few steps until she could lie back on the thin mattress, adjusting it so she could sit up.

“I’ll give you three some privacy,” Frankie muttered, clasping Pope’s shoulder in one hand and running his finger over Lily’s clenched fist with the other. “I’ll go see what the Millers found to drink. We’ll be back in a few.”

Pope nodded distractedly as his friend smiled warmly at Bex and left the room, closing the door with a soft click. He gently transferred Lily into her mother’s arms before perching on the edge of the mattress by Bex’s hip. “You want me to call the nurse?”

Bex nodded as she watched Lily nuzzle at her chest. “Yeah, they said they would bring the specialist in the first couple of times to make sure I’m doing this right.”

Pope kissed her temple as she pulled down the side of her baggy T-shirt in preparation of feeding their daughter. “You’re gonna do great, baby,” he whispered into her hair. “Wonder Woman, remember?”

She smiled softly at him as he pressed the Help button. “I love you,” she murmured.

“I love you more,” he replied with a soft look on his face as the nurse entered. It was a playful argument they had on a nearly weekly basis, but this time, Pope knew he had won. Pope knew he would always win at loving her more because, without her, he wouldn’t have any of this. And that filled his heart to bursting.

                                                     **********

“She’s so beautiful, Santi…” Bex whispered as she lovingly stroked her finger up and down their sleeping daughter’s arm.

All the tests had been run. Pope was over the moon to receive the news that both mother and child were healthy and strong. The small group of warriors had gorged themselves on the Morales’ world class waffles, bacon, and fruit salad before Frankie, Benny and Will had dismissed themselves from the hospital, all three promising to come and visit the following week once the new family was more settled. A nurse had come by every few hours to help teach Bex how to breastfeed, and teach Santi how to change a diaper, and teach them both how to swaddle. All things they had practiced in their parenting classes, but Pope appreciated the reminders. Especially since, the second he laid eyes on his baby girl, all the lessons flew out of his brain. Finally, a doctor paid them a visit and told them they would be free to go at the start of visiting hours the next day.

That had been twelve hours ago. Presently, the small family was bathed in the glow of the setting sun that was filtering in from the master bedroom window. Lily was asleep on the bed in between her parents, who were lying on their sides while holding hands above her head.

“She takes after her mother,” he smiled at her, glad to see he could still make her blush just over a year into their relationship.

“I hope she gets your hair,” she whispered back as she released his hand and reached out to card a hand through his short, thick curls. “I love your hair,” she sighed as she clasped his hand again.

“You want her going grey before she’s 40?” he teased. Bex shot him a playful glare. “I hope she gets your eyes.”

“…I hope she’s happy,” Bex breathed, tears pooling in her eyes.

Pope reached out and cradled her cheek in his hand, softly swiping at the falling tears with his thumb. “She will be, baby. Love her hard, show up, give a shit, and let her find her own path, right?” Bex nodded at him but the tears kept streaming. “Hey…” He stood and picked Lily up, carefully transferring her into the bassinet they had put in their room, before sliding back into bed and pulling his teary girlfriend into his arms. She quietly cried into his shoulder as he ran a soothing hand up and down her back. “You okay?” he asked gently as she finally pulled away, the grey cotton of his shirt stained black.

“Sorry,” she murmured contritely as she wiped at her cheeks. “Stupid hormones.”

“You didn’t answer my question, querido,” he observed.

Rebecca tilted her head back on his shoulder to look in his eyes. She gently ran her thumb over the laugh lines that crinkled in the corners of his eyes and sighed softly. “I feel okay, honestly Santi. My hormones are kind of all over the place, and my body feels like I was hit by a truck, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

Santiago shifted them so he was lying with his head on his pillow and she had her head on his chest. “As someone who has seen a guy after he got hit by a truck, I’d say that sounds pretty bad.”

She shrugged gently. “I mean, I won’t be doing it again for at least a couple of years, and I know I got lucky because some of the stories I read…” she shuddered lightly before meeting his eyes again. “But I feel better than I thought I would. Does that make sense?”

He nodded as she yawned. “Makes perfect sense, baby. Why don’t you try to get some sleep while Lily is down? We need to be up in about two hours to feed her.”

Rebecca smiled at him as she slid onto her own pillow, still facing him. “You really want to get up and watch me feed our daughter?”

“Mi alma,” he sighed, pulling her in to plant a tender, loving kiss on her lips before pulling back, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’ll get up for as many feedings, changes, crying fits that I can. I don’t want to miss a second of this.”

A bright smile pulled at her lips as tears pooled in her eyes again. “Damnit, Santi…” she laughed as she wiped her face with the hem of her shirt.

He pulled as close as he could and tangled their legs together. “I won’t apologize,” he declared, a soft smile on his face. “I love you so damn much, Rebecca. Te amo…te adoro…te quiero…te necesito…” Pope brushed a kiss against her temple, her forehead, her nose, and finally her lips in between each phrase.

Her eyes started to droop as a content grin graced her features. “I love you too, Santiago. More than any word in any language could ever express.”

He watched and listened as her breathing evened out and she drifted off. He couldn’t shake the pride from flowing through his veins as he listened to his two girls breathe in the fading light. He was never supposed to have this, but he would fight tooth and nail for anyone who tried to take it away.

                                                        **********

Tags list: @darksideofclarke, @writefightandflightclub, @eternallyvenus, @rae-rae-patcha

[sirsharp-a]

ALEENA. ❜  ( 3 )

Summary:  Owing a favour on this side of town is never a good thing. Warnings:  N/A, just a bit of fun/fluff. Part:  1  |  2  |  3 |

    “So this is what the famous Aces do in their free time?”

    “Hell yeah,”   Fayze replied, swinging the plastic gun back into its slot.  The  YOU SURVIVED  screen lingered for a few seconds before flitting back to a simple demand for credits.   “Gotta decompress somehow, right?  How better than to kick the shit outta some zombies?”

    “We prefer to play games together,”   Seb chimed in, eyes drawn to the latest addition to their troupe.  He couldn’t say he minded having such a pretty girl following them around.  She came across as somebody he could get along with, tough to truly please but ultimately content to go with the flow.  People who wanted for too much only annoyed him.   “Better not to incite any sort of competition between two collaborative musicians, right?”

    “Right,”   Fayze agreed, slinging an arm around his bandmate’s shoulders.   “No need to keep scores between friends.”

    The first thing immediately noticeable about them, aside from their lavish house and their material wealth, was just how close they were.  Though she’d only been in their lives for a grand total of an hour or so, she could see that their bond went beyond playing music on stage.  They did everything together, as if they were two halves of the same vessel, and they did very little to foster resentment between one another.  Any opportunity for envy or bitterness to arise seemed to be quickly quelled by two young men that had nothing to rely on but each other.  That much, at least, she could respect.

    There are too many fake people in this district.  Too many relationships that aren’t real.  They sell you happiness through a screen, and when you can’t live up to it you wonder what’s wrong with you.  Why you can’t be happy like the people in the movies.

    “What sorta games do you like?”

    “Huh?”   It felt as if the world had slammed into her, distracted mind dragged forcibly back to the present.  For a moment, she felt strangely out of her element, the 8-bit trills and the automated voices accompanying overpriced video games phasing into one monotonous ringing sound.  The jazzy carpet multiplied, neon lights bleaching her skin varying shades of baby pink and blue.  Eventually:   “Uh…  I like the dance machines.”

    “Oh shit.”     “Hold up.”

    Both boys stared at her for a few seconds before Fayze exploded into a giddy series of bounces.  He remained in place, like somebody playing with a pogo-stick, but his excitement was evident--  infectious, even, for Seb soon began to smile.

    “We’re SICK at those!  C’mon, c’mon, we should play a few rounds.”     “Oh, I don’t know…”     “Oh come on!  It’ll be fun.  Plus, you get to see Seb jerk it out to Waka Laka.”     “If you choose that song, I’m out.”

    Before either of them could protest further, Fayze looped an arm with one theirs and dragged them towards the machine.  They were largely unoccupied, people gravitating towards casino machines and shooting games instead.  That suited their purposes just fine.  If nothing else, they wouldn’t have to come off of them until they ran out of credits--  or until they grew tired of it.

    Fayze fed the slot some coins, watching as the screen lit up.  A catchy theme song began to play as a list of playable tracks was displayed, ready for their seasoned perusal.  His arm swept outwards, back bent in the form of an overdramatic bow.   “The floor is yours, Aleena.”

    “W-Wait, I thought…”     “Show me what you can do!”

    Part of her wanted to refuse.  The last thing she needed to do was make a mistake in front of two people that she idolised, but if she couldn’t afford to laugh at herself…  hell, they’d probably dislike her more.  Nobody liked a stick in the mud--  not even if said stick was pretty, or witty, or a prescribed girlfriend. 

    Trying to muster up confidence, Aleena allowed herself to smirk, stepping up onto the panel.   “Fine.  But I’m picking my own tune.”

    There was an obvious hesitation marking the start of her routine, the sort of bashfulness that could only be brought on by a distinct need to not embarrass oneself.  However, by the time the first round was through with, she’d largely forgotten about her prestigious audience, her attention wholly ensnared by the rhythm.  By the time her conclusive score came up on screen, she was basking in the golden light of an impressive 93% accuracy.

    “DAMN!  You’re good,”   offered Seb, genuinely a little surprised.  Most people didn’t get those sorts of scores if they were casual players ( which in and of itself was fine too, not everybody had copious amounts of free time to blow on video games ).  It made him wonder about her history with the game.   “But it’s our turn now.”

    “Waka Laka, Waka Laka, Waka Laka--”     “We’re playing Chrome Vox first, man.”

     Aleena supposed that the least surprising thing about this entire ordeal was the fact that two electronically-based musicians from Vidé were fans of clubstep music.

    “Holy shit!”   she exclaimed as she watched the arrows begin to fall.  Trapped in her thoughts, she hadn’t paid attention to the settings they’d chosen, stunned to see a flurry of directional cues flying past at record speed.  What was more surprising was the streak of constant ‘perfect!’s.  It certainly suited the chaotic nature of the track, but by God was she going dizzy just watching it.  How could they even begin to focus on such blinding movement?

    They moved largely in sync, legs resembling a hurricane when combined.  Their time learning choreography for a life in the spotlight shone through the further into the song they got.  When the notes slowed a little, a build-up to what would no doubt be the ‘drop’ of the song, Aleena yelled out an enthusiastic:   “You guys are killing it!  How do you still have a combo?!”

    “Just wait!”   Fayze called back, voice filling lulls in the rhythm.   “The track goes apeshit in ten!”

    ‘Apeshit’ was an understatement.  She watched with a stupefied fascination, enraptured by the speed at which they could move their feet without falling over.  They even added a couple of extra movements every now and then;  little spins and turns, flourishes that only added to their conjoined performance.  For a moment, she wondered if they shared a brain.  Their coordination would stun even the best of players, she thought to herself.  It’s one thing to be good at it on your own but to have two people in perfect tandem like that?  That’s something else.

    When the chimed  “Perfect!”  left the machine, she watched both men turn around and high-five, panting lightly.

    “Remind me to never go up against either of you,”   Aleena said, a hand tracing one of the railings now that they were both stood upright.   “At least on these.  On a shooting game… eh, I could probably kick your asses.”

    She watched as Seb glanced at Fayze, their eyes meeting in a momentary flash of pride, only to settle back on her a moment later.

    “That a bet, baby?”

    With their lack of competition between one another, she’d failed to see just how confident Fayze could be when he was challenged within his element--  at least when he was kidding around.  She found herself grinning, the tips of her pointed ears twitching somewhat.

     This is nice.      This is making me forget just how fucked up this whole thing is.      This makes me feel like we’ve been friends for a long time.      This makes me feel comfortable.

    “Hah.  If you want it to be, superstar.”

[highdramas]

cherry - part two 🍒

a javier peña / little women au

hi all! i hope you enjoy this part. let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list 💖 xoxo, dee

summary: your hot hazy summer continues, but not without a bit of drama. warnings: age gap ( reader is ten years younger than javier ), language word count: 3856

part one

javier and pauline returned from the supermarket within an hour, soft cloth bags filled with ingredients for the evening. pauline had always been a great cook; seemed to be able to whip something up from nothing, but when she had a recipe, it was magic. you, on the other hand, could hardly make a bowl of cereal without fucking it up somehow. so, you sit on the counter with your feet resting in the sink and watch as pauline skillfully cuts vegetables. her hands move with such a sharp precision, and there are a few moments where you worry she’s going to cut her own finger off. she must be able to feel your eyes on her, because she glances over at you. “you should really get your feet out of the sink. you’ve been outside all day, that’s disgusting.”

a lightbulb goes off in your head. there’s nothing you enjoy more than getting under your sister’s skin, and you’ve just found the perfect way to. “what, you don’t like my feet?” you beam and nudge the side of her face with your toe, making her jaw drop. she turns to you with a look of half repulsion and half amusement, as if she can’t believe you’ve actually just done that.

“you are intolerable.” pauline says it with a seriousness but you know she doesn’t mean it. well, you hope she doesn’t. but the small smirk on her face as she turns away from you gives you all the affirmation you need. “set the table.”

“sure thing, cruella.” you hop off the counter and can feel the glare on your back. you grab a stack of plates and are suddenly distracted, the sound of raucous footsteps crashing down the stairs. it’s just javier, in fresh clothes, walking with a pep in his step. “make yourself useful, javi, and help me.”

javier’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on pauline. there’s a moment of silence before your sister looks over her shoulder at him, nodding towards her. “you heard her. help her.”

it’s not his help you want. it’s his attention. and with the reaffirmed knowledge that you don’t have it, suddenly you have no problem making haste at turning on your heel and setting the plates onto the outdoor table. the sun is setting but still illuminating the backyard-- it’s beautiful, in a different way than new york. it’s beautiful in a homey way. margot comes up beside you and rests her chin on your shoulder, looking at you with a smile. “pauline kick you out of her kitchen?”

“javi’s kitchen,” you correct, to which margot scoffs. margot is two years older than you, but there’s something about the softness of her demeanor that begs you to protect her, nurture her. and so you did, you always did. someone pushed her down in the dirt and you were the first one on your feet. “yeah. i put my foot in her face so she made me set the table.”

you both turn as javi steps through the threshold, silverware in hand. “is she fixing dessert?” margot asks him.

“she bought a cheesecake,” javi says knowingly. margot lights up. it’s her favorite.

you all do little things to protect margot, you suppose. even just to make her smile. where nora is kind in a maternal and popular sort of way, margot is kind in a way that is entirely innocent. a musician by nature, she was humming and being drawn towards a piano early on in childhood. your parents had saved up enough to purchase her a keyboard for her seventh birthday, and she made it last up until she was sixteen, making some of the most beautiful music you had ever heard. she went to a small state school in music theory and was now teaching lessons to the children in your hometown, and you couldn’t imagine a better career for her.

your sisters, they were pleased with the simple lives they were living. well, not pauline, you knew she wouldn’t rest until she was the next donna tartt. but pauline liked to flirt with her desires, not speak them plainly the way you did. margot is pleased teaching with the simple comforts of your hometown, nora settled down fast, a married stay at home mother with a little girl and another on the way. those were the lives they wanted. but not you.

simple had never been in your nature. your voice filled every room that you stepped into, your bedroom was covered in paintings and drawings, shelves full of knick knacks from your travels and books on color theory. you wanted your life at one hundred percent volume, all the time. and most of the time, it felt as though your grandmother was the only one who saw that in you. “you have potential, cherry. don’t let that go to waste.”

pauline comes out in a rush of dark hair and steaming plates. “everyone, sit,” she says, and it’s a command, not a question. and, you all do as she says. you sit down and lean back into your seat, pushing your sunglasses atop your head. it’s not lost on you how javier sits next to you. it feels like there’s a crackle of electricity between you two. perhaps you’re the only one who feels it; if javier does, he certainly has the perfect poker face. pauline finally sets down a large salad before sitting across javi, a proud smile on her face. “alright, well, don’t just stare at it.”

slowly, your family slips into their usual ways. talking and laughing, passing plates and smiling and enjoying the company. it’s all decadent and delightful, and it reminds you of the summer days in your childhood home. certainly not with this level of grandeur, but the energy was the same. sometimes you missed the simple nature of childhood. but the idea of adulthood was so enticing. being able to do what you wanted, when you wanted to. twenty years old and it still felt so new. so enjoyable. you never wanted this feeling to go away.

the chatter settles down and nora’s husband, finn, clears his throat and looks to you. “so, are you liking new york?”

pauline scoffs. you don’t say anything, looking down at your food before your eyes slowly go to your eldest sister. “what?”

“oh, nothing.” pauline cuts at the steak on her plate. “poor finn just doesn’t know what question he’s asked. we’ll be on this for hours.”

you set your silverware down and rest your wrists on the edge of the table, tilting your head at her. “i’m sorry, i guess i don’t know what you mean.” you furrow your eyebrows. “would you like to give him the cliffnotes version, since you seem to be so tired of the story? if you’re going to complain about it, i hope you’ve committed it to memory.”

“cherry…” margot says lowly from the other end of the table, already sensing what’s about to ensue.

pauline gives that smirk you’ve gotten to know well over the years, and turns to finn. “cherry is thriving in the city, with the coolest roommates, sneaking into the trendiest bars. all on our grandmother’s dime.” she looks at javier with a proud smile, but it slowly dissipates when she gazes at him. you turn to sneak a look, and his brows are furrowed, jaw set as he looks at pauline.

you can tell that finn is uncomfortable and you give him a smile. “well, she about covered it.” you clear your throat and toss your napkin onto the plate, looking back to pauline. “you’ve always had an attention to detail. you should go take a look in the mirror, you’re looking a little green. must be the envy.” pauline is already halfway through a rebuttal when you stand and turn, stomping back into the house.

the room you’re staying in has your things strewn about everywhere-- clothing and makeup, your sketchbook open on the bed. you huff and collapse face first onto the soft duvet, taking in the clean scent. like lavender. it’s dusk and the last glimpses of the sun are illuminating the room. pushing yourself up from the bed, you settle back against the headboard. you pout at the sound of knocking at the door. “can i come in?” you hear javier’s voice on the other side of the door.

suddenly, your heart is pounding in your chest. you adjust your hair and sit cross legged, sucking in a breath before saying, “come in.”

the door creaks open and javier’s on the other side with a small smile. “you two put on quite the show.” there’s no malice in his words and you know it, and it’s the only reason that you allow yourself to break with a smile. “can i sit?”

you nod and he sits on the edge of the bed, hands resting in his lap. “if you’re going to tell me i should go and apologize to her, i--”

“that’s not what i’m going to say.” javier shakes his head, eyes settled on you.

“so are you here to pity me?”

“it’s not that, either.” javier scoots closer to you. “i just thought you needed someone on your side.”

the words nearly split your heart into two. javier, who had always picked pauline… picking you? it was the sort of thing you had dreamed of, longed for, desired, for so long.

and that’s when you knew you were falling in love with javier peña.

--

“holy SHIT!” the exclamation takes you by surprise. it’s midafternoon days after your fight over dinner with pauline. nora and finn and the baby have gone home, and your friends were on their way from the city. they were the sort of people you’d always hoped you would meet-- nearly as opinionated as you, loud, boisterous, a terror on the new york city club scene. they’re your best friends. your hair is a mess atop your head as you draw on the front porch, awaiting their arrival. but once you hear the voice of sam, your freshman year roommate and absolute best friend, your drawing is the last thing on your mind. there the three of them are-- absurd amounts of luggage behind them, blowing a kiss to the uber driver. “look at you, fucking artemisia over here.”

a snicker leaves you and you’re coming to meet them in the middle, throwing your arms around them. “oh, i’ve missed you guys.” you say in a hushed and relieved sort of tone. but when you pull back, your face is full of delight and your eyes have a new sparkle in them. “let me help you put your stuff away.”

sam was the sort of person that you never knew that you needed in your life. brash and full of life and spirit, matching your energy from the moment you two met. but down the hall were teddy and esther, and it was when the four of you got together that everything seemed to click. you loved your sisters, truly, you did-- but there was something about the bond of female friendship that was a different sort of sisterhood. you chose each other, every single day-- every single night out, morning spent piled into teddy’s bed with a hangover, gossiping over cigarettes and cheap wine. you chose the bond.

“so…” teddy slips her arm through yours as you step up the stairs, each carrying a suitcase or carry on, your sketchbook tucked beneath your arm, wheels colliding with hardwood. “where is he?”

you smirk knowingly, raising an eyebrow in her direction. your friends had heard all about sweet javier. his charm, his wit-- you’d given explicit details of the mustache over facetime days before their arrival. “he’d gone into town for work, but i think he should be home soon.”

work is a relatively loose term, you note. javier works as an “entrepreneur”, but he plays much more than he works. when you’re born into the sort of wealth that javier has been born into, you figure it’s easy for you to get away with that. for your family, it was never that way. sure, your grandmother was paying for your schooling, but that didn’t mean it was all so simple. you were constantly working your ass off at two jobs, pouring yourself into your art to show that you deserved what your grandmother has given you. prove yourself not to be a failure. great, or nothing, you always said. you wanted to be great or nothing.

javier never had to worry about such things. sometimes you wished you could take the silver spoon from his mouth and put it into your own.

oh, to be wealthy. oh, to not have to worry about how you were going to pay your rent, how you were going to buy groceries for the week. you remember once telling pauline, “i’m going to be a rich man. like cher said.”

javier certainly doesn’t leave you waiting. he enters through the vast front doors just as you all gather at the top of the staircase. one by one, you turn, you standing in the middle of your friends. “welcome back, workaholic.” your lips quirk up and you tilt your head to the side, as if daring him to come up with some sort of rebuttal.

he glances up and his brows are furrowed as he begins climbing the stairs, easily brushing past your friends without a word. your heart drops and drops and drops, straight down to your stomach. being brushed off is bad enough, but being brushed off in front of your friends? you open your mouth to say something to them but pauline comes through the door after javier, slamming it behind her, storming into the kitchen. you can already feel margot’s curious voice asking what’s wrong. with a glance at your friends, you shrug your shoulders and nod them towards your bedroom. “oh, this is normal,” you say with a coy smile, despite it not being normal at all. you can tell something’s off. “they’ll be fine by dinner.”

--

they weren’t fine by dinner.

the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife-- and not just any knife, either. one of those fancy bread knives your mother always wanted that was advertised on qvc. your friends pick at their food and you glance between javier and pauline, wondering what on earth possibly could’ve happened. they each sit at an opposite head of the table, refusing to look at one another. just as you open your mouth to try and break the tension, margot says, “food’s delicious, ladies. thanks for cooking.”

you’d all piled into the kitchen and cooked an excellent pasta dish while pauline and javier each sulked in their respective rooms, margot’s piano a delightful soundtrack. but, once margot had made her way into the kitchen to help with the garlic bread, a disco tune was playing from someone’s phone and each of you danced. for a moment, you had forgotten whatever odd animosity was between your sister and her best friend. but once she had come back down to the kitchen, it was hard to ignore that something was up.

“you did the garlic bread,” you say. dripping with olive oil and delicious in every way-- if food wasn’t a love language, what was?

the rest of the evening is much of the same. margot and pauline do the dishes since you all had cooked, and javier retires to his bedroom. you can tell that your friends are somewhat disappointed-- they’ve heard all about charming and effervescent javier and all they’ve gotten is a grump. really, you can’t blame them for being disappointed. you’re disappointed too.

the summer home has no air conditioning and gets relentlessly hot in the evening. and with four giggling girls all piled into one queen bed, it’s no surprise that it’s sweltering. esther is asleep on the cool hardwood and teddy and sam are asleep atop the covers. it’s nearly two am but you still couldn’t sleep, sitting at the desk, a soft golden light illuminating the pages of your sketch book.

slumping back into your seat, you find yourself distracted by the sound of water splashing outside. standing, you peek out the window to see javier in the pool, rubbing his hand over his face. it’s difficult to see him, but what you can see is beautiful. tanned skin and a sharp jaw, brows still downturned. you turn away and stand at the desk for a few more minutes, looking over at your sketchbook.

you flick the light off and close the door behind you quietly.

--

javier doesn’t notice you at first. you’re barefoot and lingering in the doorway, trying to plan your next move. but he sees you, and when he locks his eyes with yours, it’s the first time you’ve seen him smile all day. “can’t sleep?”

you shake your head and move closer to the pool as he swims to the edge, resting his forearms on it. his cheek is in the palm of his hand and god he’s gorgeous-- you appreciate his beauty because you love and adore him, but you also appreciate it as an artist. hard and soft at the same time, a conundrum that you could stare at all day. you sit beside where he rests, your bare legs dipping into the pool. the coolness is a perfect contrast from the fading summer heat. “no. you know, you’re a rich man, javier, you should invest in some air conditioning.”

he scoffs and chuckles to himself, pushing off the edge. you watch as he dips back below the surface, the silhouette of his body just barely being caught by the moonlight. when he comes back up, he’s beside you again, wiping at his eyes. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

the silence sits between you two, but it’s different than the silence that had filled the air over dinner. it’s quiet in a comforting way. the pavement begins to hurt your palms as you lean back on them, kicking your legs in the water. finally, you lean forward, splaying your hands on your thighs and looking at javier. “why are you and pauline fighting?”

if he’s caught off guard by your question, he doesn’t show it. he sighs and clenches his jaw once more, and whatever happened, it still is visibly affecting him. he looks up at you slowly, lips almost forming a pout. you wish you could kiss him and rid him of whatever emotion is causing him to feel this way. he looks as though whatever it is, he doesn’t want to admit it to you. his brown eyes are wide and you nearly hold your breath. “i told her how i feel.”

you don’t need to ask how he feels. you already know, of course you do. javier would go to the ends of the earth for pauline, and everyone in your lives knows it. javier is in love with pauline and you have sat on the sidelines and watched him love her.

but of course javier would never look at you that way, right? you are the youngest sister, the spoiled one, the comic relief-- even if it’s occasionally a mean-spirited jab towards your sister. javier is a thirty year old grown man and you’re a twenty year old student, and it feels like miles and miles of distance between the two of you sometimes. but most of the time? you look at him and you see your equal.

you can mull over how perfect it would be to love javier however many times you want. it doesn’t mean you’ll get the chance.

you don’t speak, but you don’t have to, as he continues. “she said she doesn’t feel the same, but i just--” he shakes his head and looks up to you. “i don’t understand.”

javier gazes at you and you can see the pure desperation in his eyes. he longs for pauline, in a way that you’ve never seen someone long for another. you nod your head and slowly, reach out to place your hand on his shoulder. “i don’t understand either.”

he turns to look at your hand, manicured nails and all. slowly, he takes it into his hand and he squeezes it, a small smile on his face. “but you know what i do understand?” your words are soft and he raises his eyebrows to urge you on. “she’s lucky to be loved by you. even if she doesn’t see it that way. one day, someone will.”

i would, you think. i will.

javier’s hand still holds yours and it’s delicate and lovely. “when did you get so wise?” he teases.

you shrug your shoulders and before you can comprehend what’s happening, he’s tugging on your hand to bring you into the water with him. you gasp as you go down, completely caught off guard, bobbing up for air. his laughter is a beautiful melody in your ears and you splash him, pushing the hair away from your face. “you’re such an asshole,” you tease, still trying to catch your breath while javier swims around you. “a grade-a asshole.”

“oh, really?” he still moves around you and you turn your body to watch him as he does, nodding your head.

slowly, he stops, coming before you in the water. “yup,” you say, and you pop the p. javier is still coming closer and it’s hard to comprehend. when he’s close enough that your chests are nearly brushing, you can feel your heart thumping like a drumbeat in your chest. “what’re you doing?” you whisper.

he shakes his head and pushes your wet hair back, off your shoulders, his large hand coming to the back of your neck. “i don’t know.”

you look up at him with confused eyes and he looks vulnerable and soft and god you just want to kiss him--

you don’t have to want for it anymore.

his lips are soft and full and perfect for kissing, and god, does he know how to kiss. his grip on the back of your neck is both firm and gentle, keeping you close but not trapped. you feel stupid with your arms at your sides and you place them on his arms. when he pulls away, you already miss the absence, but you don’t have to for long. javier is capturing your lips again and this time it’s needier, desperate, your legs wrapping around his waist in the water and your arms around his neck.

“javi…” you murmur against his jaw when he pulls away.

“fuck.” it’s hot and it stirs something in your belly but he pulls away from you, taking his hands and unwrapping your limbs from his body. he slumps back against the edge with his face in his hands, and you stand there, wet and confused and hoping. when he finally looks back up to you, you can see there’s tears pricking his eyes, and he shakes his head. “i’m sorry, cherry.”

he climbs out of the pool, and for once, you’re entirely speechless.

taglist: @ariespedro​ @gooddaykate​ @and-drew-101​ @thinemineours​

[black-streak]

Waiting for the Worms - Nobody Home

Part 7

Warnings less? In effect here? But still be aware of course. Condensing a lot for the sake of timelines matching up and consistency in pacing. (Okay, so maybe I have Mari's entire plotline figured out and am mostly playing Jason's by ear, call me out on it)

Closed list of nice people who I regularly hurt for amusement: @northernbluetongue @thethirdwheelfriend @shizukiryuu @theatreandcomicfreak @michellemagic @karategirl119 @moonlightstar64 @my-name-is-michell @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @miraculousdisapointment @dorkus-minimus @jardimazul @allthebooksandcrannies @g-arya @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @persephonescat @mycupisbroken @luciferge @18-fandoms-unite-08 @dawnwave16 @alwaysreblogneverpost @kris-pines04 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @weird-pale-blonde-person @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @kokotaru @naclychilli @slytherinhquinn @clumsy-owl-4178 @ladybug-182 @darkthunder1589 @evil-elf16 @dast218 @lysslovsanime @emilytopaz @naoryllis @iloontjeboontje @thepeacetea @danielslilangel @finallyaniguana @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @vixen-uchiha @yuulxd @bleeding-heart-romantic @magic-inthe-stars @st0rmy-w1th1n

~---~

Jason woke up screaming to the sight of bright glowing green, only to snap back into the bedroom as Sabine burst in through the trapdoor. The petite woman ran up the stairs and collapsed beside him, throwing warm arms around his shoulders, tugging him down into the crook of her neck.

"Shh, shh honey, it's alright. It was just a dream, you're okay, I'm here."

He stiffened at first, only to melt into the embrace, meeting otherworldly blue eyes behind her. Tikki seemed to shake with concern, wanting to come to him, but unable to in the presence of his parental figure. 

Sabine pulled back a touch, stroking his head in gentle motions, meeting his eyes and guiding him through concentrated breaths until hia had evened out.

"Do you want to talk about it, sweetie?"

A wobbly smile broke on his lips at the sweet endearment as he shook his head and fell back into her embrace. He'd never adjust to being so thoroughly cared for and loved and supported, even if she didn't realize it was all directed at the wrong person. God, he hated lying to her. About where he was during akuma attacks. Why he stopped being friends with most of the class. Why in the year after her death, he had stepped down from most of Marinette's class responsibilities. About who he was and what he meant to her. He hated letting this wonderful, loyal, fierce woman think he was her daughter. 

Flashes of the toxic green flashed behind his closed eyes along with flowing red, reminding him why he woke in the first place.

Accepting the kiss on the cheek and reassuring Sabine that everything was okay, he waited until she disappeared down the steps and towards her own room, door firmly closed behind her before turning back towards Tikki.

"Are you okay, Jason?"

"Yeah… might be spending too much time with Plagg. Dreamt I was drowning in his eyes," he joked.

"That's awful, no wonder you were screaming," she tagged on, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Oh yeah, absolute nightmare."

"You're okay though."

"Yeah," he breathed out, turning over and feeling the kwami curl up on his hip and slowly fall back to sleep as he stared at the wall until morning.

…

Occasionally, someone worked up the nerve to ask him out. 

Whether because her physique appealed to them or his personality drew in a rather specific type. Usually, guys who thought they could tame him. Girls who wanted his aggression directed in passion. Saw her body and his anger and guilt displayed in a rather intimidating, distant contenance. Never one to start a fight, but quick to end one with a verbal lashing. Otherwise friendly when approached, but never the one approaching. Some thought him shy, others knew better and saw the fire within. All were turned away.

It made Jason sick to his stomach to think of dating these people with her body. To show affection and know he was using her body in that manner. And moreover, he couldn't stand the idea of ever being with someone who wasn't her. Sure, he knew many people dated around before meeting their soulmate or were only platonic with their other half and sought romance elsewhere, but none of them were in his position. None of them were living inside a dead other half's body, pretending to live their life. Surely if they were, they would feel the same. Not that he planned on sharing.

As it stood, he became a known heartbreaker at school.

…

He dreamt of flashing blades and splattered blood that night. He screamed himself awake once more. He wasn't sure why. It's not like he didn't risk his life everyday since he was ten. Something about the dreams got to him though.

…

Sometimes he forgot he wasn't her. This life he lived, this lie became his truth for just a moment.

Nothing epitomized this as much as the absolute defeat of Hawkmoth.

Jocular came up with the idea with the help of Fievel. The two came up with a strategy of using illusions and prodding mice to draw akumas further and further towards the outskirts of Paris, making stops along the way to toy with the angered victims until they did something reckless. Serval and Ladybug made sure to stay completely out of sight to ensure that Hawkmoth knew that his goal would not be reached with this line of action. Nimbus jumped in if the akuma came too close to any of the others to knock them off their feet and give the others a chance to create distance. If Hawkmoth's signature purple symbol glowed around their face, they knew they were still in range. Once the akuma seemed to go absolutely off the rails with no interference, they ended the battle quickly and marked the spot on a map of Paris. Once they made their first mark, they went slightly to the right of the previous fight, waiting to make the next mark and leading the following battle to the right of that until, like clockwork, they made a complete circle. 

With the circle complete, they took their map and drew a line from one point to the one directly across the map, until eventually they found the exact center.

The Agreste mansion. Oh, the irony.

The battle went surprisingly quick after that. They waited until they defeated an akuma close to the mansion, so that the Moth miraculous would need to recharge before it could activate again. Nathalie, who previously wielded the peacock, stayed out of the altercation, too sick to attempt anything. With Gabriel unable to transform yet and his assistant unable to fight back, they made quick work of apprehending the man, bringing the police into the atrium of butterflies and showing the underground garden that held his list wife. With a few threatened words whispered into his ear by Ladybug and Serval, Gabriel transformed in front of the police, allowing them to take pictures of everything as evidence of his actions. He also admitted his guilt into a tape recorder, to be used in court. Of course, they were all careful not to let any of the kwamis be seen by civilians throughout the arrest.

Finally, with the two adults arrested with their bodyguard and Adrien taken into custody for questioning, the heroes all disappeared into the dark night, the battle over and won.

They met back up in their headquarters, Fu's parlor. Luckily, throughout the years, the old master had never been found out, despite a handful of close calls. Mostly due to the group threatening the man back into hiding every time he considered getting involved. Still, the place became their haven. A place to relax and regroup without the fear of being overheard. That night, the group celebrated their victory, emotions haywire in a swirl of grief and anger and misery and elation and pure relief, letting everything flow out, the release long overdue.

Up until this point, the hunt of Hawkmoth over the last two months had kept Jason so busy that beyond the nightmares, he nearly forgot that they weren't celebrating with him, but with who they thought was Marinette. The constant use of false names and codes had helped further disillusion him. 

Now though, they hollered and sobbed and laughed together in their exuberance and they all congratulated him as their leader, as the one freed of the most responsibility, as the one who had battled from the beginning. He thanked them and rejoiced the end of an era. And then he went to her home.

He slipped in through the balcony and dropped into bed, the transformation sliding off as he went. That wasn't really his battle to win. His enemy to defeat. He knew that. She would've been happy to know that their team protected Paris. Broke it free from Gabriel's reign of terror. That they won. He wished she could've been there to see it. To take down her enemy herself. This was supposed to be her victory. He fell back into depression, knowing she'd never get to witness his defeat.

…

That night, he dreamt of shrouded figures. Of defending himself from multiple enemies. He dreamt of proud jade green eyes watching at a distance. 

…

It hurt so badly to let her dreams slip through his fingers. Muscle memory and basic knowledge from reading her old books on sewing led to an adequacy when mending old clothes, adding buttons, or customizing his own things to fit further to his style. This however, did not translate into her creativity and ability to take a concept and transform it into an original design.

At first, this raised suspicion and worry amongst their friends and family, but as time passed, they accepted that perhaps the inspiration had moved on. Jagged and Clara had shown their acceptance and support and told him if he ever got back into the game, to contact them first. Both protested and fought valiantly at first, but after a long conversation where he revealed that he simply couldn't bring himself to create the way he once had after losing his other half, the two had showered him in affection and backed off. The full truth was tragic, but the half truth was enough for them all.

The team had sensed the change since the beginning and upon finding his dwindling willingness to create, they thought perhaps moonlighting as ladybug drained it from him. Probably explained why he worked better with Plagg nowadays despite his attachment to Tikki. He allowed them to believe what they would as long as it meant not pushing him to design anymore.

He took to studying more, reading on any subjects that caught his attention at the moment, enjoying the freedom of no longer having a villain to fight. He kept up training with the team and her old martial arts classes. He also added in kickboxing for the hell of it. It became a wonderful outlet for his aggression without taking it out on his teammates.

Sometimes, on busy weekends or on breaks, he helped in the bakery. It was during one of these times that Tom brought him in to help develop a new flavor, that he found a love of creation again. Something about working side by side with Tom, discussing how different spices and fruits played off each other reminded him of early afternoons spent with Alfred. When tears sprung to his eyes at the thought of the older butler, Tom immediately drew him into a hug, asking what had made him cry. Jason gave a watery smile and simply said he had missed this.

After that, her parents started using him in the baking process more, allowing him to taste taste and make his own creations with their guidance. He was a decent baker, good enough to keep up with them and offer new takes on old classics, but they soon discovered that he truly came to life with cooking.

It was soon afterwards that he took over making dinner every night, releasing some of the pressure from Tom and Sabine to find time in the midst of shutting down the bakery. It also eased some of his guilt towards the two to have a way to pull his own weight within the family.

…

It had been about eight months since he first dreamt of toxic, luminescent green. It still visited him in his nightmares occasionally, engulfing him in horrific clarity. Sometimes he asked Plagg about it, only to be met with concerned, nervous eyes. Once he teased the little god about corrupting his soul, only to see a flash of fear quickly shroud itself in a huffy, put off demeanor. Plagg hissed at him and gave him the cold shoulder for three days after that. He never teased the kwami about the nightmares again.

Sometimes the dreams still held flashes of silver and red, dripping blood off steel, of shrouded aggressors. Of proud jade green, watching him at all times, assessing him, observing and glinting with a hidden glee.

It was a couple months after the two year anniversary of her death that something changed.

He dreamt of jade green eyes, staring up at him from a much lower height than the last set, coming closer, looking curious and guarded, yet hopeful.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 5

Title: Neighbours

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip

The ‘to do list’ is long and lengthy but not unmanageable.

Inside and outside decorations, picking out a tree and having it dropped off the next day, last minute presents and stocking stuffers to grab, a massive grocery list that includes the usual staples and the ‘extras’ that always make their appearance at Christmas time. The convenience of a big city is one thing she’s always missed; malls with everything you need under one roof, strips of your favorite, eclectic little shops, delivery for everything under the sun. Never having to own a car; Uber and taxis summoned with just one phone call, the subway just a block away. The younger Esme...the one fresh off a shitty first marriage...had loved every second in New York City. That spacious loft -with its exposed brick walls and industrial lighting and Juliet balcony- in Brooklyn, the Broadway shows she’d attend, the high end shops like Tiffany’s, Chanel, and Prada that she’d do little more than browse in; dreaming about all the things she would buy if she was ever fortunate enough to have money to burn. Trips to Central Park; reading a book or sipping a latte while sitting on the edge of the fountain or treating herself to lunch at Tavern on the Green. She’d never been bored; filling every minute of her free time with something new to experience. Taking the subway into different ethnic areas; trying new foods and drink and buying newly discovered -to her- spices and intriguing ingredients to try out at home. And while she’d been alone, she’d never been lonely; always finding ways to keep herself busy.

While it’s nice to come back and spend time in the BIg Apple, she no longer misses it with such intensity. THAT Esme..the one who’d lived in that loft apartment and who’d window shop at the high end retailers...no longer exists. She died almost thirteen years ago; her life coming to end on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. It had been time; out with the old, in with the new. And there’d been something so incredibly empowering about it; never returning to either the city or Colorado and having her step father pack up the necessities and ship them to her. Many people would consider it foolish; throwing a somewhat stable and comfortable life away for something so different. A country on the other side of the world, a man she barely knew yet her heart was certain she was in love with, a tiny and cramped apartment outside of Sydney with barely any clothes in the closet and only second hand, mismatched furniture to decorate the place. But it had turned out to be everything she’d wanted; a change in pace and scenery and a life she never knew she was missing out on. That man she barely knew outside of sex quickly proving to be the love of her life; not just a lover, eventual spouse and baby daddy, but her best friend. The one and only person she truly trusted; who’d been so willing to give up his life to save hers and made her feel safe and protected...and LOVED...in ways she’d never experienced before.

Australia quickly became home. Despite the lingering issues from Dhaka -the slow healing process and the financial issues and the worry of retaliation IF word ever got out that he had survived- they’d been happy. Not needing much; enjoying those evenings on the couch, watching television and eating ice cream right out of the container, those trips -as a couple and then newlyweds and eventually with a tiny Millie in her daddy’s arms, the long and quiet -and often post coital- conversations that had become their norm. They’d gone through a hell of an ordeal together; forming a bond that other people simply couldn’t understand. Both of them could have easily died that day; Tyler from his injuries, her due to the decision she’d made to stick around in an effort to keep him alive. After that, they’d sworn to never take a single second for granted; enjoying the ‘getting to know you’ process even as a newly married couple and her with a baby growing in her belly. It hadn’t been a conventional start to things; those five days in that cramped and dirty hotel room in Dhaka followed by an unexpected little bundle and her decision to give up her old life. But it had worked. THEY had worked. Despite all the odds stacked against them and everything that said they shouldn’t. The ordeal they’d survived giving them an appreciation of each other; putting down that foundation of respect and mutual awe that everything else could -and would- be built upon.

As amazing as it all sounds -finding the love of your life, discovering your own slice of paradise, starting a family- it’s work. Love and everything that comes with it is a lot of work, in fact. It’s arguments over both stupid shit and important issues; it’s hurt and anger and bitterness due to miscommunication or simply not taking the others feelings into considering. It’s learning how the other works and functions so you can be the one to provide comfort, stability, and aid; patience and deep rooted concern and the desire to keep them safe and healthy driving you.

Lust is one thing; immense physical attraction extremely important and definitely an added bonus. But at the end of the day, it’s other forms of intimacy that keep things alive and well; the simple act of holding hands while sitting on the couch or even driving in the car, the unexpected hugs and kisses, the little things you do for one another without even thinking, the teasing and the laughter and the conversations. It’s one thing to love someone and physically WANT them, it’s another to actually ENJOY them; their company and their smile and the sound of their voice and the way they cheer you up even on the worst days. How they talk you through hard times and how quick they are to dry your tears and want to make things right; willing to do anything and everything within their power to make you happy and to feel wanted and appreciated. It’s all those things that keep things going even when they feel like they’re falling apart.

******

“Mum!” TJ calls, as he bounds down the stairs and through the immense space that make up the living and dining areas; an easy and clean flow directly into the counter. “Check it out! You gotta see my outfit?”

With a mug of tea pressed to her lips, she glances up from the spiral notebook in front of her. It’s one of many that usually take up residence in one of the kitchen drawers; a different colour cover indicating which kid it is assigned to, two for things that are needed when it comes to household items and repairs, another for things like groceries and personal products. She’s always been organized, but something ‘snapped’ over the course of the last five years; an obsessive of sorts when it comes to keeping affairs in order.

“What the heck are you wearing?” she inquires, as her oldest son sprints through the living and dining area and then uses his socks to allow him to slide the rest of the way. An almost victorious and proud grin on his face when he comes to a stop against the island. His outfit of choice is an eyebrow raiser; jogging pants enormous and incredibly baggy, a hoodie at least four sizes too big, a black knit beanie on his head.

“It’s my New York City look. For the mean streets. You like it?”

She grins and sips her tea. “The mean streets, huh? There’s nothing quite as dark and dangerous as the vicious and cold, dark alleys of Gramercy Park.”

“It’s bad ass. New York City. Maybe not exactly where we live, but…”

“You’re pretty far removed from the bad assery of The Big Apple, but I admire your spirit. If I ever find myself getting mugged or having to walk down a dark street at two in the morning, I know who to call.”

“I’d protect you, mum. I don’t care how big and bad someone is. I’d kick their ass for you. Or at least try to.”

“And THAT is why you’re my favorite. Although don’t tell your brothers and sisters; that’ll cause too much drama.”

“Your secret is safe with me. OUR secret.” He slings an arm around her shoulder and presses a kiss to her cheek. “What’cha doing?”

“Lists. One of many. Things we need in the house and things we need to do.” She eyes him from head to toe, mug against her lips. "Is that your dad’s hoodie? AND his pants?”

“He let me have them. I asked if he had anything old I could wear; that he wasn’t going to use anymore. This is what he gave me.”

“You do realize he’s more than a foot taller than you and about...I don’t know...a hundred pounds heavier.”

“I weigh a hundred pounds now. Dad’s like one eighty.”

“He was one eighty five when he got out of the hospital. Five years ago. He’s two ten now. Soaking wet. And you’re five feet? Since when?”

“Since yesterday. I had Tanner measure me.”

“You have a lot of damn nerve, kid. Being only half an inch shorter than me. At TEN.”

“I share DNA with a giant. Dad’s six three. I’ve got more of his genes than yours.”

“Yes, I know. I see more and more of those genes every day. You’re looking more like him all the time. And don’t get me wrong, that’s a good thing. A VERY good thing. But five feet? Already? What the hell?”

“I can’t help it. Blame genetics.”

“You’re going to be massive. You’re probably going to be taller than your dad. And if you keep lifting weights like you do and you start going heavier as you get older, you’ll be huge by sixteen. A good huge. It’s depressing. You’re depressing me.”

“Sorry, mummy.” He kisses her cheek once more, then joking places his forearm on the top of her head. “You’re going to make a good arm rest. Thanks for being absurdly short.”

“Don’t be a smart ass. I brought you into this world, I can take you out.”

“Dad says the tiniest ones are always the most feisty. I think that’s why he fell in love with you; you’re little but you don’t take any shit. Even from him.”

“He likes a challenge, that’s for sure.”

Sipping her tea, she watches him as he heads for the fridge; rummaging through it before coming up with a container of some of the baked goods Tanner had already blessed the family with, and a bottle of Gatorade. He even walks like his father; those gigantic feet and that long, slightly bow legged gait. TJ is more awkward; stuck at the stage between still being a child, yet quickly nearing his teenage years. And he’s become far more mature since hitting double digits; still possessing that extremely active and almost hyper personality, but prone to more serious and thoughtful moments. And at times he looks years older; when his eyes darken and his lips set into a thin, serious line and his brow furrows. So much of his dad exists in him. Both inside AND out. And that smile; the one that crinkles the corners of his eyes and slightly wrinkles the bridge of his nose. It’s on his face now; as he opens the lid on the container of treats and sets it -and his drink- on the counter top before fetching the pot of tea from the stove and warming up the contents of her mug.

“You certainly are my best son,” she chides. It’s only PARTLY a joke. Although at times he can be quite the handful and his ability to regulate his emotions and temper can cause issues both at home and at school, he’s a wonderful kid; loving so deeply and profoundly.

“Tanner wanted me to give you this,” he reaches into the pocket of the hoodie and pulls out a folded sheet of printer paper. “Things he needs. For his baking. He’s really good, huh? At the whole baking and cooking thing? Like, INSANELY good.”

“He’s quite the talent,” Esme agrees. “But so are YOU. You’ve got your own things you’re amazing at.”

“But not like him. He’s crazy smart and he can play the guitar and sing and all this baking and making dinner and stuff. He’s like a dude Martha Stewart! You know what he should do? Start a Youtube channel. People would LOVE him. People are suckers for a cute kid.”

“Well, you know Tanner; how nervous and anxious and shy he gets. You should bring it up to him. If anyone can talk him into something, it’s his big brother. He idolizes you.”

“I don’t know why. I’m not THAT great.”

“I don’t know. You’re pretty damn awesome in my books. And you’re a really good big brother. You should talk to him. He’d be willing to try, I bet. Maybe it’s something you could do together. He’d love that. He loves spending time with you. And I know it’s been hard; him going to a different school.”

“Yeah, it hasn’t been the best thing that’s ever happened,” TJ laments, and helps himself to one of the peanut butter and chocolate squares in the container. “It’s been four years and I STILL miss him. I loved having him in my class. And I loved hanging out with him at lunch and at recess. And sitting with him on the bus.”

“It was a hard decision to make. But it was the best decision. For him.”

“Yeah, my school isn’t exactly an intellectual wonderland. He’s better off where he is. With other brainiacs like him. But still, I do miss him.”

“I’m sure he misses you too. But you get a lot of time together. At home and stuff. And I always love Fridays; the bus dropping him off at your school and you guys coming to see me at the store. Hanging out until I close. Hands down my favorite day of the week.”

TJ smiles. “Mine too.”

“And I thought I was organized,” she comments, as she studies Tanner’s very neat and tidy list.

“He’s kinda anal, huh? About some things? I don’t mean that in a bad way. Just that he’s very…”

“Particular?”

TJ nods. “You know, I wish he’d see himself the way I see him. He’s always worried that he’s weird and that people don’t like him because of it. He always talks about how his brain isn’t like everyone else’s and that he wishes it was. You know what I wish? That more people were like Tanner. Because he’s talented and he’s unique and he sees the world so differently than everyone else. I know he struggles with some stuff, but it’s not a bad thing; him being the way he is. Sometime I think he’s better off than all of us.”

“Unfortunately, self hate seems to be a genetic trait as well. Who does that remind you of? Who else sees themselves in a bad light?”

“Yeah, dad is pretty good at that. Not liking who he is. I don’t why; I think he can be kinda awesome.”

“I think he can too. He’s just had a rough time. For a LONG time. He’s working on it. On a lot of things. But you know what’s really amazing at? Being a dad. I’m pretty lucky. I landed myself a pretty incredible guy. He’s not perfect, but he’s perfect for me. And as for Tanner, maybe you should tell him what you just told me. Because I guarantee you, if he heard that from his big brother? It would mean the world to him. He needs to hear stuff like that. Tell him, okay?” She rubs her palm in slow circles in the middle of his back. “It would make his day. Probably his whole year.”

“I will. I’ll tell him. Do you think he’ll live alone? Away from you and dad?”

“I don’t know,” Esme admits, and cupping her mug in both hands, turns around and leans back against the countertop. “Your dad and I talk about it from time to time. If Tanner will ever get to that stage. If he doesn’t…” she shrugs. “...he doesn’t. I mean, he could live in the pool house. He’d be close enough to home so if he did need help, we’d be right there.”

“What if he lived with me? If we got a place together? When we’re old enough, of course. Say when we’re nineteen. And I’ve got a good job. Like in the military or something.”

“That’s a lot to take on, Teej. A career like that and your brother. Would you want to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? He’s Tanner. He’s my baby brother. And not just any baby brother. We were made at the same time. We came out only a few minutes apart. I spent nine months with him; inside of you. Why wouldn’t I want to be with him?”

“A lot will change over the next nine, ten years. You might get tired of him by then.”

“I am NEVER getting tired of him. He’s my brother. I love him. And if it gives you and dad a break after taking care of him for so long, that’s good enough for me.”

“You are something else, Baby-Man. You really are. And I mean that in the best way possible.”

“I know you do. And I like that you still call me that. Even if I AM almost taller than you.”

“You know, you’ve been so cute and helpful these last few days, that I will ignore your cheap shot. You really ARE your dad. Head to toe. Inside and out. Facial expressions and everything. It’s freaky.” She turns and helps herself to one of the treats; a chocolate concoction with marshmallows and coconut inside and a coating made from crushed up Frosted Flakes. “You know, I craved these for my entire pregnancy with you and Tanner. Your dad used to make them for me. Dozens at a time. He’d even get up at three am to do it. Or to go get tacos. That’s probably why you like Mexican food so much.”

TJ’s eyes widen. “Dad used to bake? At three am?”

“At all hours of the day. He’s actually really good at it. These were my favourite. He made them for me; my first birthday after we got married. We had just had Millie and we didn’t have a lot of money to throw around but he still managed to make it special. Australian wildflowers, a picnic on the beach, and these. It was pretty awesome. One of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. Spent with my favorite human.”

“Dad really DOES have his moments.”

“Yeah, he really does.” Esme smiles, and takes a bite of the square. “You know, your grandma used to make these things.”

“Like mean, awful grandma or grandma Adeline?”

“Grandma Adeline. Your dad’s mom. She was quite the baker. Tanner must have inherited that from her. I know Declan got her red hair.”

“That must have been really hard. On dad. Her dying when he was little.”

“It was.” She sips at her tea and picks up the long discarded pen; absentmindedly doodling in the notebook as she speaks. “ It caused a lot of issues for him. It was pretty painful for him.”

“He still doesn’t like to talk about her.”

“It hurts. Even now. But he’s coming around. It’s not as hard for him anymore.”

“Is it true that grandpa used to beat on him? I heard him and Uncle Koen talking about it. A couple years ago. Dad seemed pretty upset. He normally doesn’t cry in front of anyone BUT you. He was kinda emotional.”

“It is true. Unfortunately. Your grandpa was a drunk and he was a narcissist and he hated his wife for having a child. It took the attention from him. Which I know sounds really weird and twisted. But that’s what happened. And when she was alive, he couldn’t stand her loving on your dad and spending time with him. So he took it out on her; beating her and saying mean things to her. Your dad used to have to listen. Sometimes grandpa would make your dad watch. Said it was to teach him how to ‘treat a woman’ and make them ‘learn their place.”

“I’m glad dad didn’t listen. For your sake. And his. I think you’d beat his ass if he ever did stuff like that to you.”

“I definitely would. And he knows it too. But, your dad isn’t like that. He isn’t the type to treat women like that. I know he has his issues, but THAT? He would never, ever, stoop to that level. It’s just not the kind of person he is.”

“Do you think that’s why dad DOES have the issues he does? The brain stuff? Because of how he got treated as a kid?”

“I don’t think it’s the only reason why, but it definitely added to it. You’ve been asking a lot of questions lately. About mental health stuff. What’s going on? You’re ten. You don’t need to worry about this. Your dad is fine. He’s doing great. A lot better than anyone thought he would. So why…?”

“I gave him shit,” TJ says, then gives an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I mean ‘crap’. I gave him crap.”

“You gave your dad crap about something? That’s pretty bold. What did he do that pissed you off?

“ I told him it was wrong. That he went away. To work. That he shouldn’t have gone.”

“TJ, why would you…?”

“You wouldn’t have done it. Given him crap for it. And I know you wanted to. I know you lied. When you told him you were okay with it. You didn’t tell him the truth, mum. You just told him what he wanted to hear.”

“Sometimes we do that,” Esme reluctantly admits. “When we love someone and we don’t want to ruffle feathers. Your dad’s come a long way. He used to be gone all the time. He was off doing jobs more than he was home with us. And I know you probably don’t remember all of that because you were so young; the missed birthdays and anniversaries. The time he couldn’t get home for Christmas. You were only three, but…”

“I was little but I DO remember. And you always acted like you were okay with it. But then he’d leave and you’d be a wreck. Just like you were this time.”

“I wasn’t a wreck. I was nervous and I was worried and…”

“Mum, you don’t have to lie to me. I heard you crying. When you thought all of us were asleep. I KNOW you were having a bad time. With dad being gone.”

“You know what? You’re right. I was. Normally I’m okay with it; I can handle him going away as long as he stays out of harm's way. But knowing he’d walked into it? It DID bother me. That he’d been so willing to help out Anil. Especially after what happened the last time he went and got his hands dirty.”

“Then why didn’t you just tell him that? That you didn’t want him doing it? That you didn’t want him going away?”

“It’s not that easy, TJ. Sometimes it’s not my place. I can’t actually tell him what he can’t and can’t do. In the same way he can’t do that with me. And when Anil called and said he needed the help…”

“He should have said no. Anil knows tons of people. Why did he need dad? He could have called someone else.”

“Your dad is very good at what he does. Or what he DID do. One of the best. And I know it sounds strange; to be proud of a job like that. To be so willing to put your life on the line for people you don’t even know. But when Anil called and needed his help, your dad couldn’t exactly say no.”

“Yes, he could have,” TJ insists. “He promised. That he’d never go away again. That he’d never go back out there after the bad guys. He promised ALL of us. And totally broke that.”

“Sometimes it happens. Sometimes he can’t help it. Sometimes…”

“Stop making excuses for him. When one of us screws up, you don’t let us give you excuses. So why do you let dad give them? There’s no reason he had to go. At all. He should have told Anil to get someone else.”

“You know, we are going to have to agree to disagree on this. I said it was okay. If he went. There’s nothing more to talk about. So let’s just drop this, okay? You don’t know what’s talked about; between your dad and I. We keep you guys out of it. For reasons exactly like this.”

“You lied to dad. When you told him you were okay with it. You weren’t. You were far from okay. And I told him that. That you had a really hard time. That you didn’t deserve to go through that. It’s not fair, mummy. That he goes and does stuff like that. I don’t care that Anil needed. WE need him. Us kids. He’s our dad. What happens if he gets killed? Then we have no dad.”

“That’s not going to happen. He’s not going to get killed.”

“He will if he keeps doing stupid shit like this. You should just be honest with him. Tell him how you really feel about him going away. ‘Cause if he thinks it’s okay, he’s going to keep doing it more and more. And then something really bad is going to happen. Worse than last time. And I don’t want that. I don’t want him going away and…” TJ’s voice cracks with emotion. “...I don’t want him going away and never coming home.”

“Tyler...hey…” she lays a hand on the side of his face “...it’s okay...just take a breath and…”

“It’s not okay. It’s never been okay. It’s never going to be okay. And if he goes away and something happens to him, I’ll hate him forever. If something bad happens to him and he never comes back, I’ll never forgive him. For doing that to us. For doing that to you.”

“Okay, I know you’re upset. And I love you so much for wanting to protect me. But right now, you just need to calm down and take it easy, alright? I know you’re going through a lot. I know puberty is starting to come and kick your ass and it’s making everything seem so much worse and…”

“Just tell him,” TJ implores, and noisily sniffles before wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie. “Just tell him you don’t want him to go. Tell him, mummy. So he doesn’t think it’s okay to leave again. Because he’ll go and something horrible will happen. And then we don’t have a dad. And we’ll barely have a mum. ‘Cause it’ll kill you. If something goes wrong and he doesn’t come back.”

“You need to to just breathe, Baby-Man,” she steps in front of him and takes his face in her hands. “ Just breathe. Everything is alright. Daddy’s home and he’s safe and he’s not going anywhere. It was just this one time. He won’t have to do that again.”

“You need to tell him. That you don’t want him going. Please, mummy. Please tell him.”

“Okay,” she promises, and draws him into a hug. Heart aching at the realization that her arms can no longer completely wrap around him; shoulders and back both broad and strong. “Everything’s alright, TJ.” She lays a hand on the back of his head and draws it down to her shoulder, the other rubbing his back comfortingly. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him how I feel; about him going away. About how ALL of us feel. Alright?”

He nods.

“Why don’t you go and get some fresh air,” she suggests. “It will make you feel better.”

“You promise you’ll talk to him?”

“I promise.” She presses a kiss to his cheek, then holds him out at arms length. “Maybe afterwards we can take the littles for a walk? You know how much Takota loves when you pull him in the sled. It’ll be good; to go and get a bit of exercise. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“You are getting so big. How do you grow up so fast? I remember finding out about you and your brother. I remember when you were born. All seven pounds of you. Now look. In a month's time, you WILL be taller than me. You’re already wearing mens size nine shoes. You’re TEN.”

“That’s what happens when your dad’s a giant, I guess.”

“You used to always call him that when you were little. You’d tell everyone that your dad was a giant. He probably seemed that way, huh? Probably seemed ten feet tall and bulletproof.”

“He still does. Well, maybe not the bullet proof part. We know THAT’S not true.”

“I know it bothers you. What happened back then. I know it’s not an easy thing to get over. That you came so close to losing him. And I’m sorry. That you had to go through all of that. I really am. If there was any way to go back and time and change it, I would. In a heartbeat. You know that, right?”

“I do, mummy.”

“Your dad loves you so much, TJ. You have no idea HOW much. When you were born and the doctor gave you to him? I’ve never seen him THAT emotional. Not even with Millie and she was his very first. After Austin. And he cried like a baby when he got to hold her. But you? I can’t even begin to describe what that was like for him. A son. After losing his first one. He was so happy and so in love with you. And that’s never changed. It never will.”

“I just don’t want to lose him. I don't know why he even takes the chance. Why does he go knowing that he might not come back? Doesn’t he love us enough to stay home?”

“Of course he does. And I WILL talk to him. Just cut him some slack, okay? The last five years haven’t been easy on him either. And he’s done so well. Better than anyone thought he would. But it’s a process; dealing with everything in his past and letting it go. So just give him a chance, alright? Can you do that? For me?”

“For you, yeah.”

“You’re such a good boy. I love you so much. More than I could ever tell you. And you ARE so much like your dad. And that’s a good thing.” She places one last kiss on his cheek and draws him into another hug. “A very good thing.”

******

The front door clicking open and a familiar Louisiana drawl calling out a greeting sets off a flurry of commotion; a mixture of both heavy and light footsteps pounding down the stairs, dogs scampering and barking, excited giggles and happy shrieks and rambling sentences in tiny voices. The kids have all become quite fond of Desmond (Desi, or Des, as Esme lovingly refers to him as) in their three years of spending time in New York City. A former University of Alabama football star, he’d found himself relocating when he’d met a very wealthy -and very much older- sports agent a decade ago; abandoning his dreams of playing profession in favour of a new existence in a new city. His husband -and admittedly the love of his life- had passed away just over a year ago. Leaving him with the elegantly and fabulously decorated brownstone in Gramercy, a small fleet of high end cars, closets full of designer apparel, and a bank account that will never run dry. He’s an enormous man; six foot seven and weighing close to three hundred pounds, most of solid muscle. Intimidating at first blush, but a complete teddy bear; compassionate and empathetic and possessing a heart even bigger than his body. And he’s hilarious and flamboyant; zero filter, exceptional taste in clothes, a love for expensive cosmetics and considerable talent in applying them, and a penchant for anything sparkly.

“You realize your front door was unlocked, don’t you?” Desi inquires as he journeys into the kitchen; monstrous hands curled around a giggling Takota’s ankles as he dangles him upside down. “Any wackadoodle could just walk in here. I know this is Gramercy Park, but it’s STILL The Big Apple. This isn’t the safe and quiet little sparrow fart town in Australia you call home. Where all you have to worry about is kangaroos and koalas and spiders the size of dinner plates.”

“I’ll have you know that koalas can be very sketchy; we have one in the tree in the front yard that hisses and spits and throws shit at you.”

“Jack!” Takota reminds her in between hiccups. “His name is Jack!”

“Well Jack is an asshole and he needs to relocate,” she says, and pats him on the bum and squeezes the cheeks; fingers moving to his sides and tickling him until both the giggles and the hiccups increase. “And it’s the dingos you have to worry about. They’re mean.”

“Dingos eat bad girls and boys,” Takota says, smoothing down his hair and his shirt when he’s put on his feet. “That’s what daddy said.”

“If that was true, we’d only have two or three kids instead of seven. Go and play. So I can talk to Desi.”

“Talk to him about what?”

“Top secret adult only stuff. Here," She snags one of the sugary goodies from the container on the island and hands it to him. “We’re going to go out soon. For a little walk. Get some fresh air. Make sure you pee BEFORE we leave. I don’t want to get you all bundled up and then have you tell me you gotta go. Hear me?”

“I can’t make any promises mumma,” Takota says, and then pops the treats into his mouth and rushes off.

“That kid is way too cute for his own good,” Desi declares. “Gonna be a heartbreaker, you know. Like his mom.”

“For the record, I’ve never broken any hearts. Well, except for the time in grade two when I didn’t want to be Freddie George’s Valentine. He just wasn’t my type; he smelled like tapioca and desperation.”

“You had a first husband, did you not? Must have broken his heart. Or you wouldn’t be on your second husband.”

“My first husband broke my jaw, my nose, more than one rib, and put me in the ICU. He’s lucky it’s only his heart that got ripped out. And what’s up with that hat?” She gestures towards the fedora atop her friend’s head. “You look like a pimp.”

“If I was a pimp, you, my little ho…” he plucks the hat from his head and places it upon hers. “...would be better dressed.”

“What is wrong with how I’m dressed? I dress like this all the time.”

“And you’re still married? Is he blind or did he hit his head too hard one too many times or…?”

“I’ll have you know, my husband doesn’t care about the packaging. Just what’s underneath. Case in point, I once bought this really nice and quite expensive baby doll nightie; totally vintage and gorgeous and this shimmering black and pink. I don’t think he even noticed. It took him like five seconds to get it off me. IF that. He does not give a shit about the wrapping paper. Just the gift that’s underneath.”

“And you, my cute, teeny little munchkin, are the gift that keeps on giving. And you must give VERY well. Seven kids and all. But baggy sweat pants and a huge tee and a way too big Quicksilver hoodie? Oh honey, no. Just no. No, no, nooo.”

“If it makes you feel any better, these sweats are Fendi.”

“That does NOT change the fact they are joggers and you should NOT be wearing joggers on the streets of New York City. You lived here before; has your little, beautiful brain forgotten what it’s like to dress here? We need to get you some retail therapy with old Desi. He’ll hook you up. A little refinement, a little sophistication, a little bling. I got you, girl.”

“Your idea of a little bling is a ten thousand dollar belt you tried to talk me into buying last year. Where would I wear a ten thousand dollar belt?”

“I don’t care if you use it in the bedroom. If your husband resorts to employing it to trap you to the headboard or if he uses it to tie your hands behind your back. That belt was spectacular and you deserve spectacular. We WILL do this; a shopping trip. Chanel, Gucci, maybe some Ralph Lauren if we feel like slumming.”

“Where am I going to wear that type of stuff? I can’t wear Gucci while I’m cleaning out the goat pen or Chanel when I’m gutting a chicken coup. And I certainly can’t wear it out shopping.”

“Not to your favourite haunt no. Definitely out of place in Target.”

“There is nothing wrong with shopping at Target.”

“There is so much wrong with it. I’ll be here all day if we start.”

“Besides, we don’t have high falutin places like Gucci where I live, remember? You’ve been there.”

“Charming little place. Reminds me of some of the towns down south I used to hit up. But girl, you fill that closet of yours with the finest of apparel. Stick with me, I’ll treat you right. And speaking of being treated right, I got the appointment for you; Christmas Eve Eve, two o’clock Sally Hershberger.”

“You are a knight in shiny, blingy armor. You really DO have strings to pull.”

“I may have had to promise some good times...sexy good times...to the receptionist. But, that’s a small price to pay for you. I’m willing to take one for the team. Or should I say, give one for the team.”

“And as much as it's a dream of mine to go to Sally, and seeing how my hair really DOES need some TLC…”

“Oh no. No. Hell no. There’s a but coming. And Desmond Brownell does not like buts. Unless it’s Idris Elba’s. And your husband’s.”

“I don’t know if I can go through with it. Not the appointment; I can go through with THAT. But cutting my hair? As short as the picture I showed you?”

“Girl, are you crazy. You’d be a knockout with a cute little side swept bob. What drugs are you on? Not that you’re ugly or anything the way you are now. I wouldn’t kick you out of bed for eating crackers or anything like that. But your hair...your whole mom thing with the constant ponytails or messy buns...it needs help. It’s screaming for help. Let me help it. Let me help YOU.”

“Just cutting it? THAT short. That’s not going to go over well.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tyler is kind of old fashioned.”

“Old fashioned? You two spent five days banging right after you met. You got knocked up out of wedlock. He proposed in the bathroom. Nothing old fashioned about any of that.”

“When it comes to certain things, he’s very...particular. Especially when it comes to my hair. He likes it long. LOVES it long. I cut it up to my shoulders once and he bitched about it for TWO years. And let’s not get into when I got bangs or when I dyed it blonde.”

“I can’t say I blame him for the bangs thing. You’re way too cute and those big brown eyes do not deserve the attention taken away by fringe. But the bob...girl...that’s fierce. You’d rock it.”

“Maybe just some highlights. Some red ones. He did really like when I colored my hair red. I can get those, a trim, a blow out.”

“You can go to Cheapy Haircuts for Us for that nonsense. This is Sally Hershberger. You are not going to her and getting just a blowout or a trim or highlights. You are going big, or going home. The husband will deal. He’d love you with no hair. It’s no secret he thinks the sun shines out of your ass. Which, I have to admit, looks fabulous in Fendi sweats.”

“Why do you think he bought them? He knows what he’s doing. He bought them for the same reason he buys me yoga pants. And I don’t even do yoga.”

“He’s an ass man. I can appreciate that. And speaking of appreciate. Desmond Brownell would like to do some appreciating right about now. Is he home? The better half? Is he in there working out?” He casts a glance towards the home gym that sits off the kitchen. “More importantly, is he in there working out shirtless? ‘Cause if he is, I’ll gladly take him a glass of water so that fine ass specimen doesn’t get parched or dehydrated. I’ll even rub down those sore, beautiful muscles. I’ve got some very top shelf massage oil at home. Smells like pecan and coconut. Unless he’s more a citrusy type. If so, I can run to the store right quick.”

“First off, you’d traumatize him. He’s as straight as they come. I know that breaks your heart to hear it, but…”

“How does he know he’s straight if he’s never ventured out of straight-hood? Unless he has and didn’t like it….”

“He hasn’t tried it. He likes women. LOVES them actually. Maybe a little too much when he was younger. He is NOT bi. Sorry.”

“But I am. So are you. And you’re damn cute and he’d probably give it a try if you talked him into a threesome.”

“Yeah, right,” Esme laughs. “That would never happen.”

“Do right by your best friend. Or are you worried he’d leave you for me? What’s the old saying? Once you go black you never…”

“My husband is straight. Very straight. And no. He’s not working out. He’s not even home. He’s out with Tanner.”

“The breakfast date, that’s right. Little T couldn’t stop talking about that. Loves his daddy, that’s for sure. You know, that kid is damn talented. Those goodies brought over and that soup? Damnnn. Move over Emeril. Little T gonna set the world on fire.”

“He’s something else that kid. He’s...incredible. There aren’t even words that can properly describe him. But, he IS having issues.”

“Uh oh. I don’t like the sounds of that.”

“He’s bored. At school. And we specifically sent him there to challenge him. It’s been great. He’s been thriving and his grades are amazing and the teachers and the kids love him. But he’s so advanced and so smart that they’re going to run out of ways to teach him. Which means we’re going to run out of options for him. Which also means, I’m going to become a heavy drinker and eat my weight in these!” She nods down at the container of sweets in front of her and pops one into her mouth. “What are we going to do? There’s only so many options where we are.”

“Homeschool? You’ve got a degree. You’re smart. You can do it.”

“No, I can’t. I’ve got a business. Two businesses, actually. And six other kids. Besides, he is way smarter than I was at that age. He’s probably smarter than I am. What am I going to do? For him?”

“You know where there ARE a lot of options…”

“We are NOT moving here. Tyler would never survive. This place? New York City? It’s not him. And I have to think about that too. What’s also best for him. We’re happy where we are. Insanely happy. Moving here is not an option. No matter how much I miss you.”

“Guess you’ve got a lot of thinking and research to do. It’ll work out. Always does.”

“Have I mentioned how much I love your optimism? And how much I’ve missed you? Or how much I love you?"

“You can mention it as many times as you like. My ego likes that shit.” He takes her face in his hands and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “We still on for dinner tonight? I’m still bringing Italian? And the wine?”

“We’re still on. Tanner is going to make the salad and the garlic bread.”

“We gon’ be eating like damn kings.”

“Are we still on for the other thing? You know; the thing we talked about? When Tyler and I take the kids to pick out a tree?”

“I got you, don’t you worry. I will let myself in and grab the stuff from the attic and sneak out. I also got the email; that ‘thing’ for Addie arrived. You know what I’m talking about?”

“The doll? I didn’t think it would arrive in time. How does it look?”

“Exactly like her. Now, you want to get a head start on the wrapping? You know I love me some gift wrapping.”

“You can do whatever your little heart desires.”

A slow grin spreads across his face. “That is what I like to hear. Now, I’m going to the gym. There’s a Latino hottie there I’ve been trying to talk up for weeks. You behave. Stay out of the wine. At least until later.”

“You gonna wear your ‘Bama t-shirt? The one that’s two sizes too small and shows off your muscles?”

“Sweetie pie, you don’ read my mind. But have you been checking out my muscles?”

“I have a ‘thing’ for muscles. And yours are very nice. Besides, I’m married. Not dead. Tyler’s going to be upset. That he’s not the only one you’re crushing on.”

“You just put his little mind at ease. Tell him he gives me the biggest woodie out of them all.”

“That’ll stroke his ego for sure. See you later? Six o’clock?”

“I’ll be here. With bells and bling on.” He presses a kiss to each of her cheeks and pulls her into a hug; tightly squeezing. “You’re just so wee and cute. I could just scoop you up and put you in my pocket. See you later, gator.” He removes the hat from her head, affectionately tousles her hair before heading out of the kitchen. “And do me a favour? Put proper clothes on for dinner. I can’t be dining with someone in sweats. Desmond Brownell has standards to uphold.”

“Desmond Brownwell needs to remember the cherry cheesecake for dessert.”

“Oh bless your heart. Thinking I need to be reminded. See ya, pip squeak.”

“You and you tall people. So cruel to us little folk.”

“Little folk?” He smirks. “You’re like one of those things in Lord of the Rings. A damn hobbit. Matter of fact, I’mma call you Frodo from now on.”

“You do that, I’ll sneak into your house and kill you in your sleep.”

Desmond laughs. “I’d like to see you try, short stuff. Later.”

“Later,” she calls, shaking her head and laughing when he hollers “Spawns of Satan; I be leaving now!” before stepping out the front door.

[connordavidscamera]

Canada | Connor Brashier

A/n: This is dedicated to my lovely friend @adelaidestreets​ because she wanted a fic based on this song.

Summary: Connor thinks you guys should move in together, but in Canada.

Warnings: fluff

Word count: 1.5k

***

I groan as I shift in the bed, it’s still dark outside, the sun not even up yet. I check the clock on her side of the bed, it’s only four in the morning. I sigh and let my eyes fixate on the beautiful girl next to me. Her face squished against the pillow, mouth slightly open and the faintest of whistles escaping every time she exhales. I’ve been watching this face for eight months and it somehow feels like I’ve been watching her forever.

There’s not much else I can do now, my mind and body is fully awake and I don’t want to wake her just yet. She looks so peaceful now, with nothing acting upon her but sleep. It’s not like before we fell asleep and her mind was wired, her thoughts coming out one after the other. Some of them a little silly.

“Do you think monkeys find it cool that they can hold bananas with their feet? Like do you think they know that some humans find that fascinating?”

And some deep and intricate and way too much to be thinking about before going to bed.

“You know, if there are millions of galaxies like the scientists say, don’t you think it’s crazy that we were all put here in this galaxy and how some of us were destined to meet? How some of us were destined to fall in love with each other. How some of us are here and we don’t want to leave a trail of anything we’ve done. And then there are others who want to leave everything they’ve done behind. They want to be seen, to be known. But… none of that even really matters does it? Because eventually there will come a time where no one will remember any of us or the things that we did or the things that we saw.”

“Y/n, baby. Go to sleep,” I mumble in my already half asleep state.

“But-”

I lift her chin and press a kiss to her lips. “We can talk about the immensity of the universe in the morning. After coffee.” I hum and pull her to my chest.

She sighs and kisses my bare chest. “Good night, Brash.”

“Good night, baby.”

I trace the column of her spin ever so gently, trying not to wake her. Just want to feel close to her. Being here with her, it’s my most favorite part of the day. Waking up to her. I think I could do this for the rest of my life and never tire of seeing her this way. It’s like we’re the only two left in the world. In this world that isn’t up yet.

“You’re staring,” she mumbles and shuffles, turning on her side to face me. I push her hair out of her face so I can see those beautiful eyes.

“Sorry.”

“The sun isn’t up,” she grumbles, her eyes falling shut again, but she reaches for my hand anyway. I can’t help but chuckle as she pulls it closer to her, resting her cheek against it on the pillow. “Why are you awake?”

“Guess I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Was thinking about you. About us.”

That grabs her attention and her eyes open to stare intently at me. “What about us?”

“Well… I was thinking. What if we got a place together?”

“That’s a big step.”

“Yeah it is. But I don’t want a place here.”

“Okay,” she breathes out and moves closer to me, resting her head on my chest. “Where do you want a place, Connor?”

I shrug, “I don’t know. We could move to Canada.”

She hums, “You hate the cold.”

“But you enjoy it.”

“I do,” she agrees. “But that would be a lot, don’t you think? We have to find jobs first of all. And a place. All new furniture.”

I shrug, “So we can go and buy some things we don’t need. We can bring Ginger Bean, and your entire library,” I chuckle, even though it’s not far off. Her entire apartment is full of books, every single bookcase she has is full, and she has even more stacked beside them. And Shawn told me that they have weird candy up there, so we can bring our own.”

“Okay, but jobs? What about those?”

“There’s libraries and bookstores in Canada. You can work there and I mean, we have savings. We could start saving up more so you can open your own bookstore. I know you’ve wanted that for a while. And I’m a videographer, I can work from anywhere.”

She nods, “So you’ve been really thinking about this.”

“Well, no. The whole Canada thing just popped in my head like forty-five minutes ago, but the living together thing, that’s been on my mind for a while.”

“Well, the idea is nice. But people will talk.”

“So we’ll be known as the people who up and leave. I’ve always wanted that. To be that person who could just up and go anywhere because they felt like it. It doesn’t have to just be me. That could be us. You and me.”

“You don’t think it’s too fast?” she draws little circles on my chest.

“Well I’m not saying we have to do it right now. But it’s something to think about, right? We can talk about it, maybe?”

I can feel the hint of her smile as she presses a kiss to my chest. “”Yeah, we can think about it. Maybe just a little more thoroughly. When it’s not five in the morning.”

I nod. “Yeah. That sounds okay.”

---

“Hey, love. I brought pizza.” I say, closing her door.

“You are a lifesaver.”

“What are you looking at?” I ask, sitting down next to her, placing a kiss to the top of her head.

She moves her laptop out of my sight and twists in her seat, looking up at me with excited eyes. “So, you know how the other morning we were discussing moving in together. And I told you we should wait just a little bit because it was early and not the time for a big discussion.”

“Right,” I nod.

“Well. I was looking at places within our price range and....”

“And?”  I prompt.

“I found one in Canada.”

I chuckle, “You what?”

“I found one in Canada.”

“But I thought you said that moving to -”

“I know. But I also thought about what you said with wanting to be the guy that just up and left whenever he wanted to. Because he could. And… I’ve always wanted that too. And what better time than now?”

“You’re serious?”

“We don’t need much outside of us, do we?”

I smile, “Let me see the place.”

She turns her laptop back to me, “It’s an apartment. And while I was looking through the photos it kind of reminded me of Shawn’s condo. It’s really open.”

I scroll through the photos while I listen to her talk.

“And I looked for job listings, just for the hell of it. There’s a bookstore ten minutes from the apartment and they’re hiring, full time. It’s in Vancouver, and I know it’s really far. Which is still close enough to Laguna if we needed to come back for any reason.and  Imean, a lot of studios film there now, maybe this could be your big break. You can direct a real big screen movie. And it’ll be everywhere and everyone will be wanting the amazing Connor Brashier to direct their movies. And I-” she takes a breath when she catches me looking back at her instead of the screen. “What?”

“You’ve really thought about it, haven’t you?”

“Well, I. I mean - I just… yeah. Yeah, I have. Is that crazy?”

“Are you forgetting that I’m the one who proposed the idea of moving to Canada?”

“Well no. But I know - I don’t know anything actually. I don’t know anything about moving to a different country or if this is actually even an option. But I do know that - I know that I like the idea of living together. Because we practically do already. And maybe this is all too fast and people will call us crazy. But I mean, this isn’t about them, right? This is about us?”

I close her laptop and put it on the coffee table. “C’mere,” I take her face in my hands and press a kiss to her lips. And then a second and a third because I can’t get enough of her taste.

“And we can buy things we don’t need, like you said. Although I do think your mom would put up a fight if we tried to take Ginger Bean with us.”

I laugh, “Yeah, probably. But that’s okay. Apartments don’t usually allow pets anyway.”

“That one does… I checked.”

This woman. She is unbelievable. And I couldn’t love her more. “You really want to do this?”

“Only if you want to.”

I kiss her again, “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. Let’s be those people.”

She shakes her head. “Let’s be us,” she whispers, resting her forehead against mine.

I breathe in her scent. “We can be us.”

***

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** if you want to be added or removed from any list (permanent, Shawn, Connor,  We Were Us, or Not So Brash Brashier’s just let me know)

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Return to Me - Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: The Galaxy Within Reach

A/N: Again, sorry it’s late! School is crazy. A few notes about this chapter: unfortunately, Poe is not shirtless in this chapter, but I thought his expression was perfect (and the gif isn’t too bad to look at either). I headcanon Poe as having a few tattoos, so that’s present in this chapter. I promise, this is (I think) the last time we see the pink dress again. Since we haven’t seen him in a while, I’ll add the link to Lin Ral’s faceclaim again. The speech Poe gives Black Squadron and the title are taken from the Poe comics, which again, you should all read if you love Poe. Umm, I think that’s it. Lemme know if you wanna be tagged and your feedback is welcome! 

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Word Count: 4,031 Synopsis: As the Resistance scrambles to find a place to go after Crait, the reader has to make the tough decision to reveal her connection with Count Lin Ral in order to save everyone aboard the Millennium Falcon. Both Poe and the reader take the first few steps to getting the Resistance back on track.

Tag List: @xeniarocks, @too-many-baes, @araceli91103​, @holybatflapexpert​, @themihala​, @idocarealot, @treblebeth​, @treestarrrrrrrr​, @thescarletknight2014​, @charlottie2998​, @ibikus​, @mellow-f1​, @mrsdaamneron​, @trustme3-13​ @missjess71, @ella-solei​, @minelskede​, @gleigh42​, @usuallyweepingnacho, @givemethatgold​, @and-claudia​, @constantdisgrace​, @wordsinwinters​, @readingvogueonprivetdrive​, @trshbb​, @kaitlynw011​, @ihave2muchtimeonmyhands​, @constantdisgrace​, @fairytalesforever​, @thanos-jeep​, @mixedfandxms​, @pastelbunny1501​, @emotionalcal​, @daniellajocelyn​, @getyourselfaunicorn​, @spider-starry​, @jimhalpertcanbuymelove, @angelicaxhouston

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Just get away from Crait. That was the only instruction Leia had given Chewbacca as everyone boarded the Millennium Falcon. Together with Rey, they quickly jumped the ship into hyperspace and left behind Kylo Ren and the First Order on the red salt covered planet. But now that you all were far away from the First Order, you needed to have a more specific course in mind, and preferably to a location that could help get the Resistance back on its feet.

Crowded around the table that Chewie usually Dejarik on, you sat with Leia, Poe, D’Acy, Finn, Rey, and Nové, arguing over where the best location would be.

“But we have allies on Naboo!” you yelled, hitting your hand against the table.

“Our allies may as well be enemies if they are under control of The First Order,” Leia said sternly. “I would love for us to return to Naboo,” she said, softening somewhat, “But until we can send a reconnaissance down to see what has happened, I won’t risk it.”

“What about any of your parents’ friends?” Nové asked, “Could any of them help us out?”

“No one is going to want to stand up against the First Order. Not after what they did to the Hosnian System. People are too scared. They need something to believe in, and that’s not me,” you added quickly, “They knew my parents well, they barely know me. Just by name.”

“What about Yavin 4?” Poe asked with a grin, clearing his throat at your side. “I’m sure my dad would be glad to host us.”

“Maybe for a moment, but we need somewhere to set up a permanent base. The old base on Yavin 4 isn’t operational, and the First Order knows where it is. We need to go somewhere that they would never expect,” Leia said. You found Nové’s eyes across the table and knew that she was thinking of the same place you were thinking of. A place that the First Order would never think to check.

“What about Serenno?” you said.

“Serenno,” Leia said with a smile, mulling the decision over.

“We don’t have any allies on Serenno,” D’Acy said, looking to Leia for some clarification. “At least, none that I’m aware of.”

“I have one,” you said with a smile, “And I think I can convince him to keep us hidden. It might not be a base, but we can definitely lay low for a while, catch our breaths.” Poe looked at you curiously, especially when you said him.

“That’s a great idea, Y/N,” Leia said, “Contact Serenno, and Poe, get this ship on course.”

“Yes, General,” you said at the same time. You both stood, but you allowed Poe to walk out first. Leia gave you an encouraging smile.

“Serenno is the best option,” she said.

“I know,” you said with a frown. She nodded at you once more as you made your way towards the doo with Nové following close behind, as Leia turned her attention to D’Acy. Once you were alone, you gave Nové the same worried look you had given Leia.

“She’s right,” she said with a sigh, “Serenno is the best choice.”

“I know, I’m just not sure Lin will see it that way,” you said, chewing your lip.

“Well, it’s a good thing you can be so convincing.” You frowned at her as she patted your arm. “Come on, we better give him a heads up before we land on his front step.”

You moved down the Millennium Falcon until you found a private corner to reach out to Serenno within. You waited anxiously as Nové tried to make contact, and tried not to focus on everything at stake. You had all lost so much already, you weren’t sure anyone else on board could put up with another loss if Lin Ral refused to help you.

“Alright, Y/N, he should be up soon,” Nové said, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned your head to look at the holographic image of Lin Ral materializing before you and put on a fake, forced smile.

“Y/N. I’m so glad to see you safe,” he said once the connection solidified in front of you. “I got word about Naboo, and only assumed the worst.”

“Thankfully, Nové, Zaisa, and I are safe. I do not know if the same can be said for my people.”

“How did you get away?”

“I was off planet when the attack happened,” you said. He nodded and moved in his frame, seeming to try to get a sense of where you were.

“Where are you now?” he asked.

“It’s a long story, and one that is better said in person. You have been asking me to come to Serenno for quite some time, I hope this isn’t a terrible time.”

“No, absolutely not,” he said with a smile. “It’s perfect timing, actually. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” you asked, shaking your head.

“Yes. But I’ll wait until you’re here.”

“Alright,” you said with a confused smile, “Lin?” you asked as it seemed he was about to sign off.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you for another favor?”

“Of course, my lady,” he answered with a smile.

“Don’t tell anyone I’m coming. There is too much left unknown in this galaxy since the destruction of Hosnian Prime, and I don’t know who I can trust.”

“You can trust me and my word,” he said sincerely. “I won’t tell anyone you are coming.”

“Thank you.”

“I shall see you shortly, then?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic.”

“Oh, and Lin? One more thing?”

“Yes?” he asked, his handsome smile never leaving his face.

“I may be coming with more people than just Nové.”

“Oh?”

“I’m bringing the remainder of the Resistance with me.” His eyes widened, but his smile never faltered.

“With an explanation, I hope?”

“In person, yes.” He laughed gently and nodded his head.

“Alright. I’ll see you soon. Be safe.”

He signed off, and with your bit of good news, you stood up to leave Nové . She was still trying to reach out to anyone on Naboo, even if her hope seemed to be shrinking by each failed outreach. You left her alone and went searching for Leia. At least, that’s where you told Nové you were heading, but you soon found yourself just outside of the cockpit.

“So, this is the legendary Millennium Falcon,” you said appreciatively, taking a step in. Poe looked back at you and smiled. He was sitting next to Chewbacca, co-piloting the Falcon, which had been a dream of his since he was a kid.

“Think you’ve got it from here?” Poe asked Chewie, standing up. The Wookie called a response, making Poe chuckle. You backed out of the cockpit and waited until you were both a few steps away before you looked at him.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

“Good, considering I was knocked into a wall.”

“Twice,” you reminded him.

“Twice,” he agreed with a laugh.  

“You should get some rest. And you definitely need to get looked at again.”

“I don’t know, I think I look pretty good,” he said with a grin.

“You’d look better without the limp.”

“Help me out?” he asked carefully, nodding his head down the hall.

“I was supposed to go tell Leia that Serenno is awaiting our arrival,” you said, looking the other way.

“Then why’d you come here first?” he asked, taking your hand. You smiled and let him lead you down to a more private room down the hall.

“There’s got to be a first aid kit around here,” you said, beginning to open cabinets and rifle around as you both stepped inside.

“Y/N.”

“Hang on.”

“Y/N,” Poe called again, this time softer. You shut the cabinet you were searching in and turned to him. He was propped up on a bench, his bad leg extended. He had a soft look on his face, his eyes looking up at you pleadingly. “Come here.”

You walked to his outstretched hand and laced yours in his as you sat next to him, your pink dress spilling out onto the both of you. He chuckled as he pushed a lock of hair out of your face and smiled at you.

“Thank you for bringing me back to my senses,” he said, his voice deep and gentle.

“Back in the cave? That was—”

“Not just in the caves. I was beginning to lose my focus, the thing that kept me going. Being around you again,” he said, sighing with a smile, “I’m just really glad you came back when you did.” You smiled softly and looked down at his lips. He tugged on your hand, leading you to his mouth. You met in a gentle entwine. Poe put his hand in your hair, pulling you in closer just as you pushed him off. “What?” he asked.

“Take off your pants.” He raised an eyebrow at you, a smile growing on his face. “So I can check your leg,” you said with a smirk of your own. “I’m sure when you were stunned you opened up the cuts again.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Pants.” He sighed and awkwardly stood and stripped his pants off, moving gingerly around his injured leg. You tried to keep from staring, but it was impossible with him. You saw the end of his back tattoo, a large depiction of the Force tree that was planted in his childhood home’s backyard, and suddenly felt breathless.

“Happy?” he asked, sitting back down. You smiled and looked at the gauze wrapped around his knee and lower thigh. Blood was beginning to seep through it again, as you suspected.

“You should have got this checked out a long time ago.”

“Well, I’ve got you looking at it now,” he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and carefully started to pull the bandage off of his skin. He grimaced as you pulled a little too strongly and grabbed hold of your wrist.

“Sorry,” you said, stopping your movement.

“It’s alright. Just distract me,” he said.

“How?”

“Tell me about this ally in Serenno.” You looked back down at his leg, not wanting to have this discussion.

“He’s a count. I don’t know him all that well.”

“And yet you trust him to keep our operation secret?” The bandage had come off, and now you could see the bloody burns and scrapes that Poe had sustained when the hangar on the cruiser blew up.

“Does it hurt?” you asked.

“It’s fine.” You frowned and quickly brushed his cheek as you stood up again. “Where are you going?”

“To get a first aid kit. There’s got to be one on this ship somewhere.” You didn’t take more than a few steps down the hallway before you found the basics needed to clean him up. When you came back in, you forgot for a moment that he was only in his boxers. You tried to fight the heat in your cheeks, but it was hopeless.

“What?” he asked with a smile.

“Nothing.” You sat down next to him and looked him in the eye. “This is going to sting.”

“I’ve handled much worse.” You frowned at him and turned back to his wound. You poured the liquid into his leg, and indeed, it did sting as he grabbed your arm tightly.

“Ow,” you complained. He smiled at you and soon relaxed as the medication started working. You reached for the new bandage, but he took your hand.

“If you’re going to do that, you have to answer my question.”

“Poe,” you tried, but he frowned at you. He wasn’t going to let it go. “Fine. If you must know, Count Lin Ral is trying to court me.”

“Oh,” Poe said angrily.

“It was arranged by Lord Broden.”

“I thought queens couldn’t marry.”

“They can’t,” you said, beginning to rebandage his leg, “Broden is only looking to the future.” Poe shook his head, looking anywhere but at you. “I don’t want to marry him, Poe.”

“Good.” You scoffed and finished wrapping his leg, cinching it too tightly at the end. He grimaced but didn’t reach for you that time. You stood up and made to move for the door until he called your name again.

“What?” you asked, looking back at him with a sigh.

“Don’t go.”

“I have to give him an answer soon.”

“What are you going to say?” he asked as you moved back to his side.

“I don’t know. My parents were pushing for it, of course,” you said, rolling your eyes as you sat down next to him, “But I don’t want to.”

“Is he nice?” he asked. You looked into his sad eyes and frowned.

“He is.”

“Handsome?”

“I’ve seen better,” you said with a smile.

“He is probably politically connected, too.”

“He is.”

“Sounds like the perfect candidate to become your husband.”

“He is.” Poe looked hurt and pursed his lips. “According to my parents, anyways. There’s just one thing that’s wrong with Lin Ral, that’s wrong with every other man.”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking back at you with wide eyes.

“They’re not you.” He smiled and took your hand in his again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s why I’ve been so reserved with you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I just couldn’t bear it.”

“I understand,” he said with a nod. He looked you over slowly as a smile spread across his face. “You could make it up to me by taking off your pants, too.” You smirked and rolled your eyes.

“Not here,” you said.

“Then let’s go find a bed.”

“That sounds like a great idea, you need to rest,” you said, standing up.

“Why don’t you help me rest,” he suggested, standing too, and awkwardly shrugging into his pants again.

“I can’t.” He wrapped his arm around your lower waist and pulled you into his chest. “I have to go check with Leia, remember?”

“Yeah, but what if—”

“Poe!” You both turned towards the door and saw Finn and Rey walk in. You pushed Poe off again and took a step back, making him roll his eyes.

“What’s up?” Poe asked.

“We just got a transmission from Jessika.”

“What?” you and Poe asked at the same time.

“A distress signal, for you,” Rey said. Poe looked over at you and frowned.

“I guess resting will have to wait. Go.” He nodded at you and gave your hand a quick squeeze.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, the worry evident in his face as he slipped out of the room.

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

You delivered the news to Leia, reveling in the fact that she looked relieved for the first time in a very long while. She sent Connix away to confirm the news with Chewbacca, just as Poe walked in. He apologized for the intrusion to your meeting and took Leia away for a few minutes. You looked up at them hopefully when they returned.

“Commander Dameron will not be coming with us to Serenno,” Leia said, looking at you with a frown.

“What? Wait, Commander?” you added with a smile.

“Yes, as long as he doesn’t fuck it up this time,” Leia said with a smirk. “Black Squadron is in danger, and as Poe put it, they are the Resistance.”

“I agree completely, but how are you going to get there? You aren’t going to take the Falcon, are you?” you asked, looking to Poe.

“No, I’m going to borrow a ship.”

“From who?”

“Grakkus the Hutt.” Your eyes widened as you looked between the two of them. “A lot has changed, Y/N/N.”

“Clearly. How soon do you leave?”

“Now. BB-8 just informed me that my ship has arrived, and Black Squadron can’t wait.” You nodded and looked at him with wide eyes, before remembering that Leia was still in the room. She cleared her throat and made a sorry attempt at excusing herself, giving you and Poe a chance alone.

“I know there’s no point in trying to convince you not to go,” you said, standing up as the two of you walked to each other. “But I would really like to.”

“They need me,” he said, taking your hands in his.

“I know, but so do a lot of other people.”

“If you would just say you need me, I would stay,” he said with a smile.

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said quietly.

“No harm in trying it, though.”

“Save Black Squadron, and then come back, safe,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I need you.” He nodded his head and leaned in to kiss you.

“Be safe,” he said when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

“I will.” Leia walked into the room a few moments later, breaking the two of you apart. Poe took a step back and left after you both wished him well. Leia took a seat once he was gone and beckoned for you to sit next to her.

“So, what’s going on with you two?” she asked plainly.

“Nothing,” you said with a smile.

“I don’t think that’s ever been true.”

“Well, nothing has changed.”

“You have,” she said. You smiled at her gently. “Are you ready for Serenno?”

“I think so.” She nodded her head.

“What are you going to tell Count Lin Ral?”

“The truth.”

“All of it?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow.

“We’ll see,” you said with a shrug.

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

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Snap asked, standing with Poe after he had come to their rescue on Ikkrukk. “Whatever happened, I mean. Whatever you aren’t telling us yet.”

“Yeah, Snap,” Poe said with a frown, “It’s bad. I’ll tell you all the story, but not just yet. You almost died here, but you didn’t. In fact, you won. You deserve a chance to enjoy it.” Snap smiled back at him and touched his shoulder.

“So do you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Poe said, shaking his head. “You know, I’ve been thinking about all of this. Thinking about the fight.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think it’s about heroes. I used to. Got that idea burned right out of me. It’s not about the Jedi, or the best pilots in the galaxy winning against impossible odds. It’s not about saving the galaxy. It’s about saving your galaxy,” he said as Karé joined their group. “The one within your reach. You choose right over wrong. When it’s dark, you try to bring some light. You end your journey knowing you made things brighter. If everyone made that choice, well, I think everyone can. Maybe they just need to see how you do it. I think that’s the fight.” The rest of Black Squadron had gathered around him and he smiled back at them. 

“I really am so glad you’re all safe,” he said.

“You too, Poe,” Jessika said. 

“Now how about that drink? We’ve got a lot to discuss.”

“Oh, hell yes,” Snap said, leading the group. Poe made sure to catch up with Karé and pull her back from the group.

“What?” she asked.

“What happened on Ithor? I thought there was a general who wanted you to stay for a while.”

“Yeah, well it wasn’t just my flying he liked,” she said, giving him a knowing look. “I bailed after he revealed his real intentions. I’m afraid that means we won’t have their help, though.”

“No worries,” Poe said, shaking his head. “It’s better that you’re here. That we’re all here together.”

“So, that speech Y/N gave me,” she began with a smirk. “That was something else, wasn’t it?” Poe laughed and nodded his head.

“Yeah.”

“I’m guessing she’s part of that galaxy of yours you’re trying to protect.”

“Yeah, just like you,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. She wrapped hers around his waist and smiled at him.

“You’re different,” she said with a laugh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, it’s not exactly different, it’s just a side of you I haven’t seen in a while.”

“And what side is that?” he asked, approaching the rest of the group.

“I don’t know. But definitely like the one I saw when you and Y/N were together,” she said. Suralinda handed him a drink, a peculiar look on her face, but Poe tried to ignore it. Once they all had glasses in their hands, Poe raised his first.

“To a great win, and many more to come. To Black Squadron!”

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

You waited next to Leia as the drawbridge of the Millennium Falcon extended onto a nearly quiet base. You wrapped Poe’s jacket around you tighter as the cold air reached you. A thick cover of trees protected the Falcon from anyone’s line of vision. Even if they weren’t there, the hilly terrain of Serenno made it impossible to see anything more than twenty feet in front of you.

A mist covered light stood a few yards from you, with a tall man standing regally underneath it. You laughed to yourself at his hands behind his back, which was straight as ever.

“Lin,” you said as you approached. He took your hands in his and smiled cordially.

“Welcome to Serenno, Your Highness.”

“Thank you. May I introduce my close friend, L—”

“No introductions needed, General Organa,” he said, bowing softly. “Welcome to Serenno.”

“Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice,” Leia said.

“It was no problem. Anything for Y/N.” You smiled at him before quickly glancing at Leia. Being around Lin in front of her felt like cheating on Poe. “Please, come into the castle. We have food prepared and any medical assistance you might need. We weren’t sure what kind of condition you would arrive in. And don’t worry, my lady, I’ve only told the necessary people, and they’re all sworn to secrecy like myself.”

“I cannot thank you enough.”

“Nonsense. You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, offering you his arm. You smiled and took his arm, sparing a glance back to Leia. Behind her, the rest of the Resistance began to file off of the Millennium Falcon, just as ready to see what Lin had prepared as you were.

“I hope you’ll enjoy your stay as much as you can. I will wait for that explanation until later, but it seems like quite the story,” he said, looking back at the following group.

“It really is,” you said with a yawn.

“I know you must be eager to get some rest, but I cannot wait another moment to give you your surprise.”

“You really don’t have to do anything. You’ve done enough,” you said.

“This is a good one, though,” he said, finally leading you out of the dark tunnels that connected the isolated hangar to the castle. You entered into the warmly lit entertaining area. Your eyes traveled along the rich furniture and the warm fire, longing for a deep sleep anywhere in the room. As your eyes glanced around, they found the surprise Lin had for you. Two figures walked towards you, and for a moment, you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.

“Mom? Dad?”

[heir-of-talon]

So I have commissioned these busts of the characters. I will post a bust of the person whose POV the chapter is written in ❤ Some may be spoilery but hey! It's just fanfiction 😉

HEIR OF TALON 2

Warnings: explicit/underage/violence

Summary:

After slaying Elder Wyrm and becoming CEO of Talon Ember works very hard. Slowly changes are creeping in, that threaten her relationships with Garret and Riley, her sense of self and her sanity.

Life at the top

Ember

I woke up with a yelp. The bed sheets and my shirt were rumpled and soaked through with sweat. I reached for a glass of water on the night stand and drank trying to wash away tightness in my throat tasting salt of my tears mingling with contents of the glass. It was just another nightmare I tried to calm myself, but at this point I had little doubt that these were true. As was ensuing weeks of captivity, when Gerard found more and more horrid ways to torment Ember after he learned, that she could heal quickly from injuries that would have killed anybody else. His lord and his men, formed a group around her, torturing her and slowly learning her secrets... Bloodlettings so they could bathe in her blood and become resistant to harm and disease. She has suffered it all without even feeling tempted to shift, because there inside her... a spire, only remaining reality of her happiness, of their destiny. No, she could still salvage him, she would endure and once he was out of her body she would shift and fly them both away to safety, to another world if need be, there was nothing she would not do for him, her little Dante. Her love though betrayed so cruelly have found new anchor and she would preserve.

And then... birth of their child, ten men with swords and kludges awaiting, hitting her, bleeding her and Gerard... he tossed his son into flames right after he nearly ripped him from her body amid her agonizing cries.

Hatred. All consuming, all destroying all mighty. She shifted and ripped them apart limb for limb, the men, the women, the children, anyone within the vicinity of the estate. She had nothing left for humans, the vile, cruel, mindless creatures...

These dreams always filled me with grief and despair. But I was not her. Or was I? Sometimes I was not sure anymore. I would better get up, it was going to be another long day.

Vipers were resisting my changes to the organisation and demanded to be allowed to form their own organization apart from Talon, my bare ass! I tossed my shirt aside and hurried to bathroom where I laid down in the bathtub and turned the water on. As warm water crept higher and higher covering my body I relaxed and garish details of the nightmare started to fade. My thoughts were sharp and clear again. No way I was going to relinquish control of Vipers, I will sooner get them all killed. But how do you do this exactly? The only way is to get them to kill one another and then maybe set the last one up to a surprise date with the Order? This would require some serious diversion though, to make sure they accept the orders and don't figure out the game too soon... Hmm maybe later, as the last instance, for now I would rather regain their obedience. Hot water have filled the tub to the brim and I ceased to think giving up to the utter delight of being submerged in relaxing warmth.

***

"Autumn and Cobalt are here to see you ma'am" my assistant's Rose voice sounded through intercom. "Let them in" I grunted, not at all happy. After momentary relief in the bath I have developed a nasty headache and painkillers did not really work on dragons. I was not sure if dragons should have headaches, I have not been sick one hour of my entire life before I have become CEO of Talon.

"Hello Firebrand, you look positively awful, what the hell happened to you?" Riley strode to my office and unceremoniously sat on a chair in front of my enormous desk pulling another chair closer and indicating for Autumn to sit next to him. This irritated me, I was the CEO, this was my office and he come without notice and behaved as he owned everything here. "I had a hard night" I said slowly "so this better be important" I gave them a tight smile.

"It's about my egg" Autumn said. "It's in hatchery now, and I don't want my baby to hatch there. I want him to be born free, not to spend his childhood in an isolated facility being drilled by Talon like we did." She talked calmly and was obviously at ease, while her ridiculous request literally made me seething inside. I waited till she was finished and replied. "How do you imagine to hatch a dragon egg and then rear a hatchling, unable to shift for two years and to stay reliably shifted for another ten in the middle of human society?" I asked calmly. "How are you going to feed it until it can shift? How are you going to avoid it being seen?". Autumn stared at me surprised by coldness in my voice.

"Easy Firebrand, this is why we came here. To find alternative solutions for these... challenges" Riley's voice was calm but he was now watching me with slightly narrowed eyes and I could hear him thinking hard. But I could not let Autumn take that egg away. These four eggs was all the organization had left. We've sustained substantial loses when the laboratory exploded, every dragon counted for survival of our race. "We were thinking about it for quite a while actually. There's four eggs that need to be reared. There probably won't be any new for some time now, as Talon's members will no longer be forced to mate and dragons breed extremely rarely on their own volition, being immortal, territorial and such. So we just need to provide these four hatchlings with a place to be in two years. It should not be that difficult..." "Oh you've got it all figured out, don't you!?" I cut him off. I was furious at his shortsighted sentimentality. "And who is going to provide these hatchlings with education and training? Their mothers, who's never set their foot outside of the breeding facility?!" Autumn looked as if I've hit her, but I didn't care. These hatchlings were important for the organization, now that the vessel program was abandoned. If they were raised outside of the organization will any of them wish to serve it? Will they even be suitable for our purposes? "What are you talking about?" Riley was furious now. "They will be instructed and influenced by our entire community. Just because you won't have total control over every moment of their lives, doesn't mean they will not turn out just fine". He took stunned Autumn by her hand and rose to his feet. "Come, we've must have caught ma'am CEO on a bad day." And then to me. "Do not think that you've heard the last of it Firebrand. This is important, this is the freedom we've been fighting for all this time. And I will not relent, just because you get to be the boss now!" He left with scared Autumn in tow leaving me to my headache and grim thoughts.

I pressed intercom button. "Rose? I am taking off the rest of the day. Tell the Archivist to schedule new date for meeting with Vipers" "Yes, ma'am." I dragged myself out of the office and staggered when the heat and sunshine of the day outside hit me. I could not remember being out in a middle of a day. Ruling Talon was consuming all my time and energy and throughout last few months I begun to see the point of the control and discipline within the organization, as dealing with Riley's rouges, Jade and other free spirits was clearly the most annoying part of my new situation. I could not remember the drive home. To a vast top floor apartment furnished by Rose to impress an empress as she has phrased it. I had no time to interfere and only added piles of discarded clothes to the setting. And these were cleared every day by a maid. So I entered my lavish suite kicked off my ballerinas, flopped on white leather sofa and closed my eyes.

***

I woke up with a start that made it clear, that my headache was still there. It was evening and someone was knocking on my door. I insisted on no Gilas in the building I lived in, just as I insisted on living among normal, if wealthy people, rather than in a fancy all Talon apartment complex few blocks from the HQ. Now I was suddenly reluctant to open the doors. "Ember?! Are you in there?" Garret. I sighed and dragged myself to the doors. "Hello commander" I tried to smile. "Come in and fix this shitty day". He did not smile just stepped over the threshold taking in my surely messy hair, crumpled suit and tired face. "What is wrong?" He asked dropping his duffel bag at the doors and pulling me into strong embrace. I closed my eyes breathing him in and feeling my headache and confusion melting away. But after a way too brief moment he pushed himself away to arms length and looked into my eyes. "What is going on Ember? You look so tired. And you missed the meeting today, the Archivist would not tell us anything, but Rose told me you went home feeling unwell so I come to check up on you."He said. "Wait a minute. What meeting?!" I felt an ugly suspicion rising. "Meeting with Vipers." He looked surprised and worried that I would ask. "The Archivist spoke in your name and got them in line, no worries. They are allowed to leave the organization under a long list of conditions, that shortly sums up to not killing, assaulting or terrorizing anyone ever and attending monthly meetings with their rehabilitation supervisors, new units consisting of one Talon employee and one Order's employee. Of course the agreement is only valid after you've approved it. From the looks on their faces no one is leaving for some time." He smiled to his thoughts.

I had plans for Vipers and this was not exactly what I would have gone for. I should be furious about Archivist bypassing me like that. But somehow it did not matter much. No, when Garret was here I was just relieved and thankful that things were taken care of. Suddenly I could breath freely and I thought that if only I could stay in his arms long enough I would heal and become whole again, the way I was before leaving Talon and the violent time that followed. I leaned in to kiss him and he answered crushing me to his chest. Then he lifted his head again and asked "Have you eaten?" Seemingly abandoning the topic of my bad looks. "No, I slept since noon. " Suddenly I could feel how hungry I was but at the same time I did not want to release him. "How about we order some tapas and eat here?" I pointed to the couch. He peered down at me and truly smiled for the first time since he saw me and I had a hard time trying to stay focused. There was my Garret, this intoxicating mixture of desire and disbelief in his gray eyes. "Give me a second to change, make yourself at home commander. Maybe order food, I want wine boiled chorizo, meat balls with tomato sauce and bacon wrapped dates big pile of each."

I winked at him and rushed to my bedroom and beyond to the walk in closet the size of an average apartment on Manhattan, as the real estate agent described it. There I quickly shed my office clothes and changed into oversized multicolor sweatpants and a knitted crop top. I turned and felt sudden apprehension about going back to the living room. My headache was on its way back and I just wanted to run as far away from Garret as possible, I sat on a chaise long in the middle of the closet. The boy was a nuisance putting it mildly, making me reckless and weak. The thoughts popped in and out of my head along with a passing stab of migraine until I heard his voice coming from somewhere close.

"Ember?" I exited the closet and found him standing at the doorstep to my bedroom. He quickly stepped outside, when he saw me, and I rushed to grab his hand. He sent me that worried look again. "Are you all right?" "Yes, was just changing." He looked me over doubtfully. "Food is here." He said. "Wow, that was fast." I chuckled slightly confused.

We ate talking about things we've been doing since we've last seen each other almost a month before. Garret got in touch with Order's Academy and tried to persuade them to provide much needed reinforcements sooner, than they meant it was possible. More and more survivors of Night of Fang and Fire surfaced all around the world and it was difficult to maintain his position as their leader. I sat buried neck-deep in documentation on Talon, that the Archivist deemed best suited to give me insight and understanding of Talon. I was also struggling to establish satisfactory level of authority. In other words both our lives sucked badly and we could not see the end of it. Afterwards I turned on some music and we went to the couch. Garret sat down in one corner and I nestled between his legs leaning sideways against his chest. I wanted to touch him, kiss him talk some more.

***

"Ember, better go to bed it's past eleven." Garret was shaking my arm lightly. Have I fallen asleep? Again!? "Don't leave me!" I blurted. "Stay with me Garret". He shifted under me. "My leg is sleeping. " He said and tried to stretch. "Let's go to bed then." I rose and he followed collecting his bag from the floor by the doors. I pointed him to guest bathroom and hurried to my own to brush my teeth. Then I slipped into the closet to change into shorts and oversized t-shirt with Toothless serving as pajamas. As soon as I slipped them on I rushed out and waited for Garret in the hall. He come out soon wearing only black boxer shorts, he was lean and tan, his hair bleached by the sun.

I felt my stomach twist with longing and dread, at the sight of him. I wanted him so much, yet I did not feel fit for passionate lovemaking. I was tired and haunted, Talon required things of me, that I doubted, he would accept. Going on like this was a torment for both of us, but we could not see any alternatives right now and I would not accept ending the relationship either. Garret was the only ray of sun in my existence, he loved me and I needed him, completely and desperately. Around him I was myself, battered and wan but myself, when he was gone I did not know who I was anymore.

I strode to him and hugged him tightly, which he returned with a purr. Then I caught his eyes and said solemnly "Garret I love you and I want to be close, but I have not been feeling well lately... And I know, that we don't see each other much, but I can't go all the way tonight. Actually I... might not want to do anything tonight" I felt lame, but he brushed hair off my temple, his expression soft. "It's okay. We are not obliged to do anything Ember. Let's get you to bed." He lifted me up and carried me to my bed, that was neatly made with fresh linens. He put me on the floor and lifted the comforter for me to crawl in. I laid down obediently and patted the pillow next to me. Garret slid under the covers beside me and the warmth of his body engulfed me as he put his arm around me and turned the bed lamp off. In the relative darkness of my bedroom with Garret so close all worries and problems seemed insubstantial, only his heartbeat was real, only the scent of his body and the warmth of his skin mattered. For the first time in weeks I fell into deep dreamless sleep.

[niqhtlord01]

(Photo by barbarian_j-d9levbi)  Niqhtlord’s wondrous world of aliens present “An introduction to Alien Species”

Species: Predatoria

Biology: 

The Predatorian species are a race of humanoid figured fish people resembling upright sharks that have evolved over the millennia to grow additional extremities such as arms and legs at the expense of their tails, though there are recorded a few Predatoria that have kept their tails. 

Predatorian’s have the unique ability to retract their finger and toe webbing at will turning powerful flippers into full dexterity hands and feet with control over every toe and finger. 

Depending on the individual Predatorian some are able to breath oxygen through their gills with relative ease, others have been noted to be able to breath oxygen normally as well but require to take breathers from a special neck brace filled with water from their homeworld, and there are those that require the specialized neck brace 24/7 to remain above ground. Scientists have speculated that this may be a result of the depth of water each individual resided in for the majority of their lives with more oxygen rich water residing near the surface allowing for easier breath while heavier water resides in deeper portions of the planet leaving said individuals to breath through the neck braces. These effects often force the Predatorian body to adept which results in specific changes that can not be altered.   As a result of the intense gravity, Predatorian muscles are nearly ten times stronger than the average galactic life form. Their genetic makeup compresses several dozen layers of muscles over each other to the point that they become so interwoven that even though a knife may break the skin it snaps upon contact with the muscles. As a result surgery often requires special living crustaceans from their homeworld to be used as scalpels as only their claws have evolved to cut through the muscles. 

With regards to the Predatoria brain scientists have been astounded by the possibilities it opens. It appears that all Predatoria, regardless of age, have a perfect memory and can remember anything that they have experienced during their lives. Be it a physical encounter, a face of a stranger, a the words of a book read in school, anything and everything is remembered.  What may seem like a potential overload of information also has a genetic fail safe in place to stop Predatoria from going mad. They possess the unique ability to manually shut down portions of their brain as to not per-say forget something, but to have it never have existed at all. The process in which they can achieve this level of mental control is unknown, but it has been proven that they can deactivate and reactivate portions of their brain and memory at will. This gives them the false appearance of being slow or dim minded when in reality they are searching their memories and reactivating which ones are relevant to the current situation why deactivating those that are not.  Incidentally the Predatoria are acutely aware of this and when giving themselves names tend to keep them short and simple as longer names can trigger secondary memories as understandings behind each meaning become active.  

Homeworld: 

The Predatoria homeworld is roughly 95% water and under higher than normal levels of gravity. The landmass has remained relatively devoid of higher forms of life and has remained largely jungle rich fields with the exception of the newly created star port and small settlement adjacent the star port. 

The majority of lifeforms reside in the natural oceans clustered into coral cities that dot the underwater landscape. Much of the infrastructure is carefully created organic materials that have been bred by Predatorian’s for specific purposes and it is rare to find refined materials within the underwater domain. 

Orbital scans show that much like any other world the landscape under water has mountains, hills, ravines, plains, and other naturally formed landscapes.  

Industry: 

All trade is conducted on the surface at the star port under strict regulations. No machine is permitted to enter the waters of the world as Predatoria see their oceans as sacred and any outside material as sacrilege to enter. They have been more relax with offworlders taking a swim in their oceans, but react harshly in the event they leave trash behind as punishment for littering is having the limb in question that littered devoured by a swarm of Shredder fish that strip flesh from bone in seconds.  

To this end the rare metals, gems, and food found in the ocean is entirely harvested by the Predatoria population.  It remains unknown how the Predatoria conduct these practices as any attempt to send recording devices beneath the waves have been crushed by the pressure or eaten by curious sea creatures. 

WARNING: While not impossible to visit the planet for tourism purposes it is advised that offworlders refrain from swimming. Due to the intensity of the planet’s gravity if not careful a person could be pushed down into the water and drown. To swim through the oceans of Predatoria would be the equivalent of swimming through sand underneath ten feet of additional sand. 

History: 

Initial contact with the species remains unconfirmed. What is known is that first contact was made by a group of outlaws on the run. Their ship had been damaged in a recent scuffle with the Cosmic Federation’s police forces and landed on the Predatoria homeworld to make repairs. The ships engines sent disturbances through the water as it passed over it alerting the Predatoria who quickly came to investigate. Initial contact was somewhat hostile as the outlaws, startled by the appearance of the Predatoria, attacked and killed several that had come ashore to observe the new comers. The blood of the dead slowly dripped back into the sea triggering a blood frenzy among the people at the death of their own. Within hours swarms of Predatoria began emerging from the ocean seeking revenge and quickly slaughtered the remaining crew just as they set off a distress beacon.  With the intruders dead the majority of the Predatoria retreated back into the ocean while several remained out of sheer curiosity to inspect what the outlaws had left behind. Several days had passed when one of the Cosmic Federation’s police ships landed on the planet to investigate the distress signal. There they discovered several Predatoria studying the outlaws ship, though they still only had the basic understanding of its functions.  Unlike the outlaws the police force had been trained in “new contact” scenarios and was prepared. The officer in charge ordered that one of his men send a signal to the Cosmic Federation for a diplomatic detail while they initiated friendly talks. Several of the Predatoria had retreated back into the ocean when they saw the police forces, thinking they were the same as the outlaws that attacked them before. The remaining ones had taken up the weapons of the outlaws and mimicked what they had seen them do. Some of the officers wanted to fire but the officer in charge ordered them to place their weapons on the ground and show no hostility.  From this point forward additional diplomatic talks were eventually held and through trial and error an understanding was established with Predatorian’s.

Current Status: 

Lacking space fairing technology, the Predatorian’s were not able to become a member of the Cosmic Federation. However, they were given the status of a “Protectorate” allowing them to trade with the Cosmic Federation as well as being protected by the law. With the general desire to make refined metals from their homeworld it is unlikely that the Predatoria will ever develop space fairing vehicles, though this mater seems of little importance to them as they have embraced interplanetary communication and can easily negotiate travel from another species if desired.  

With the sudden influx of interplanetary trade Predatoria culture was hit with new technological wonders that attracted several thousand of their species to leave their homeworld for the first time. 

Given their natural physique, many of their kind have been recruited into manual labor positions as a single Predatorian can do the work of five power loaders. 

A somewhat ironic turn of events has also brought the attention of the criminal underworld as Predatorian’s are brought in as added muscle or bodyguards. Some underground fight rings even trade in captured Predatoria slaves, though due to the cost needed to contain a single Predatoria only the more high end fight ring establishments have been crazy enough to attempt this. 

Some have used their skills and knowledge to become powerful crime lords themselves with their own private pocket underground empires. 

Wars:

As of yet there have been no recording of major conflicts instigated by or against the Predatoria. The nature of their homeworld and positioning of their critical facilities underwater greatly inhibits enemies from attacking them as they would be fighting the planet itself. Blockades are also useless as the planet is near entirely self sufficient with the exception of technology brought in from off world.  The only instances of aggression that have been recorded are often from individual members of the species. Such individuals include one Mr. Fig, second in command of the Amelia Starfeld, pirate queen of the asteroid fields. Mr. Fig was at one time a considerable pirate in his own right before joining the crew of Amelia Starfeld with a list of wanted posters and misdeeds long enough to fill several books with bounty notices alone. The exact reasoning behind the sudden joining is unknown, but there are rumors with regards to a certain lost card wager. Since joining her crew he has proved an able bodied second in command and a staunch bodyguard, saving his captain’s life on several occasions.  The second individual is slightly less known, going only by his alias “Mr. Big”. His true name has never been discovered while his alias was given to him by a human child who is by all means his second in command. Mr. Big may be considered by some politicians as nothing more than a common criminal, but that is only to downplay the reality that he runs one of the largest private armies past the Sleisian Belt. Earliest records list him on board a slavery ship bound for a massive auction. The guards threw a young girl into his cell thinking he would eat her on the spot and it would amuse them. He did not eat her, if for the only reason at the time to pass the boredom of being alone in the cell. This proved beneficial as the young girl was able to memorize the access code to their cell door by listening to the subtle tones of the keypad outside that even the Predatorian could not distinguish and free the two of them from their cell. Proceeding swiftly they freed many of the other prisoners and instigated a ship-wide riot that saw the death of every slaver. Afterwards the little girl refused to leave his side and he had grown rather fond of the young girl and took her on as his daughter. The pair then took the ship to the nearest black market and sold it, using the profits to fund what would become their criminal empire.    

[dontshootmespence]

Aastha

Part 3 of 4

Summary: After an unimaginable loss, you discover your powers and become even more cemented in your faith. Sam experiences a similar loss and struggles with it. When you meet, how will your lives change?

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Indian!Superhero!Reader

Words: 1,922

A/N: This is for @bucky-smiles 2K Bollywood Writing Challenge! My prompt was Jab Tak Hai Jaan. The thing that stood out most to me was both of the protagonists’ struggles and/or commitments to faith, so that’s what I drew on for this fic. Although I know that Sam is an orphan in the comics, having lost both his parents to violence, I had him be raised by his mother, so she’s still alive here.

Beta’d by: The lovely @bucky-smiles herself. I wanted to make sure I did the culture and religion justice, so thank you! Also beta’d by another Indian lovely @emilyshurley​, who also made the above aesthetic for me. Thank you both for working with me. It meant a lot for me to get the culture and religion right because representation fucking matters, so your help was invaluable to me. <3

A relationship, or gasp!, love had never really been in the plans, until that morning at the Washington monument, bonding with a man named Sam Wilson about the infuriating whirlwind that was the 30-minute, 13-mile Steve Rogers. “He’s insufferable, right?” You asked, breaths heavy yet steady at your pace.

“Unbearable,” he laughed, letting go of the competition with Steve to hang back with you. “You’re Agni, right? New Avenger?”

“Been with them for about two years now, so not new. But newer. And the name’s Y/N. And despite the “A” it’s pronounced ‘ugh-nee. It’s the Sanskrit word for fire.” He smiled; impressed.

You’d never felt the need to hide your story – how you became who you were - but what Sam said next took you aback. “Sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks,” you replied, smiling fondly at the memory of her perfectly imperfect smile and shining brown eyes. “I can’t say for sure why I made it out and she didn’t. All I know is what I believe. I plan to do right by her memory.”

“That’s really admirable,” he said genuinely. “I lost someone too, and I think it broke my faith. I admire anyone who can keep it.”

“I have to,” you replied. “My faith grounds me.”

----

It was your distinct differences in regards to loss and faith that drew you closer. Sam was consistently inspired by your ability to hold onto something so intangible as faith when you’d lost so much. After every mission, you all needed to decompress, and you decompressed in your own unique ways, but time and time again, the two of you spent your time together, watching bad movies, eating popcorn, playing pool – or more accurately kicking Sam’s ass at pool – but hey.

Though he’d lost his faith in God, you’d encouraged him not to lose faith all together, instead channeling that belief into something tangible. “What do you mean?”

“Well, faith is a shaky thing for some people. Because you can’t see it. What can you see? What can you see that you believe in?”

“This team. People. I believe in people.”

“Then that’s where your faith lies. You still have it; it’s just changed course.”

“How are you so wise?” He asked with a laugh.

“Just gifted, I suppose.” Leaning over, you kissed the underside of his chin. Somehow, through all this, you’d just found each other. There’d never been any official discussion of what you were to each other – you just knew. He was your best friend and confidant; the man you loved. Another blessing you were sure. There was no animosity between you and anyone else on the team; you got along with everyone, but you found solace in Sam, and he in you.

No one questioned it either. Not even Tony. Though he poked fun every now and then, which you would of course return, because he had Pepper. After a week without any action, you were almost starting to feel left out, until you, Sam, Nat and Steve were called on a mission.

At the rendezvous point, Fury briefed you on your mission. “Pieter Sidorov,” he said, looking straight toward Natasha. “You know him, right?”

“The Russian scientist and mass murderer? Yea, I’m familiar with his work. Rescue mission?”

“Extraction. We still don’t like the guy. He’s still a grade-A asshole. But after the fall of Hydra here, everyone left that’s loyal has gone into hiding. And Sidorov is aiding what’s left of Hydra within KGB airspace. I need the four of you to get him and bring him back. We need him alive.”

The four of you nodded simultaneously, your mission clear. With the help of a few still-trusted SHIELD pilots, you made your way into former KGB airspace. “Okay, what’s the game plan?” Sam asked, already outfitted in the new and improved EXO suit; Tony had made a few adjustments in the likely case one or both of the wings were damaged, so hopefully he would never be down for the count again. “Who the hell is this guy?”

“Pieter Sidorov is a fucking genius. When you have that kind of intelligence, you go one of two ways, good guy or the worst guy. Guess which Sidorov is?” Nat started. “Anyway, he has no superpowers himself. It’s his suit. He developed a suit that allows him to suck the powers, and essentially life, from other super-powered people.”

“What can he do?” You asked. “He’s just any regular guy without the suit, but with? What do we have to look forward to?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, rattling off the list of abilities the suit imbued him with – telekinesis and telepathy. “With, obviously, the added bonus of sucking whatever powers you and Steve have,” she said, tilting her chin toward you. “So if he’s got the suit, don’t get caught.”

“Thanks, Nat,” you laughed. “We go in teams of two, yea?”

Tony and Steve were your de facto leaders, so you all looked to Steve for your assignments. “Yea. Nat and I will infiltrate the right side, you and Sam go left. Nat will hack us into the system and shoot the map of the inside of the helicarrier to your watches. You might think we need the suit too, but we don’t. It’s programmed to work with his DNA. Without him the suit is useless. We take everyone out in our way and grab Sidorov, unharmed, and bring him back to Fury. From there –“ He hesitated. “From there, I don’t want to know what Fury’s gonna do with him.”

You trusted Fury, but he was definitely a scary man. “Me either.”

“All of us will leave the way Nat and I went in. Sam, make sure your wings are operational. The rest of us, make sure our parachutes are ready to go. As soon as the pilots make the drop off, they’re out. When we hit the ground, Nat has a way out.”

“What way?” Sam asked. “Car, bus, train?” She didn’t answer, her face showing no indication of releasing her secret. “Secret underground base?”

When she raised her eyebrow, you and Sam exclaimed at the same time. “Shut the fuck up.”

Smiling, Steve ensured that everyone had their orders. “Alright,” he said, turning toward you and Sam as the pilot pulled into the hellicarrier’s airspace. “See you two on the other side. Be careful.”

“You too, Cap,” you said quietly.

After Steve and Nat jumped onto the roof of the carrier and made their way inside, the pilots swung around the left, letting you and Sam out before speeding away under the cloak of night. “Back me up,” you said softly.

“Always.” Your back was to him but he spoke with a smile. “Ten o’clock.” Sam hid in the shadows as a man, presumably a guard, approached. Your size, and apparently boobs, always made men underestimate you, leaving you the perfect opportunity to slip them into a chokehold and wait until they passed out.

The moment the guard fell to the floor, Sam emerged from the dark hallway. “Have I told you how sexy that is?” He asked.

“Not now, Sam,” you laughed. “But yes. And please tell me more when we get the fuck out of here.”

Within a minute of knocking the guard out, Nat had uploaded the map to your watches. Unfortunately, it also alerted the entire crew on board to your presence. You figured that would happen. “Alright, stay at the ready,” Sam spoke. “How many people on this helicarrier?”

“About 500.”

“Fuckin wonderful.”

Quickly, you glanced down at the map on your watch, charting the quickest and easiest way to where they were keeping Sidorov. “Right in the middle. Great. They’re coming after us either way. Wanna stealth it or make an entrance?” You asked.

“Baby, do you even have to ask?” Sam laughed.

“Entrance it is.” As you charged forward, Sam followed your lead, handling any stragglers that happened to make it beyond your wall of fire. Those that didn’t run scared, fell victim to your wrath, dissolving into piles of ash snaking through the grates at your feet.

From the opposite end of the vessel, you heard the cacophony of screaming voices. Of course, Steve and Nat were holding their own just fine.

A nearly 300-pound, 6 foot tall Russian made his way past you. Big dude, but agile as hell. He’d assumed you were the strength out of you and Sam, disregarding him to try and take you out. But that was his mistake. As the man put you in a chokehold, Sam pulled out a knife, dropping down and slicing both of his Achilles before spin-kicking him in the face and over the railing. “Thanks, babe.”

“No problem. Let’s go. I want outta here.”

Your well-oiled machine moved swiftly through the maze-like hallways. You’d have a few cuts and bruises, but since joining the Avengers, that was pretty much Tuesday. As you approached the room where Sidorov was being kept, you made your silent prayers for the successful completion of this mission. You’d always prayed beforehand, in one way or another, but in the thick of it, you couldn’t help but offer up a few more silent prayers.

Melting the metal doors before you, Sam barreled past you and grabbed Sidorov, before running straight into Nat and Steve. Sidorov’s eyes sparked with a hint of recognition. “Natasha?”

“Aww, so sweet, you remember. You’re coming with us.”

Steve took the front lines of your escape route, using his shield to push over everyone in his way, while Nat and Sam handled the scientist and you kept an eye on your six. “You ready to jump?” You yelled, wind whipping your skin as Nat opened the door they’d entered. She pushed Sidorov out, sans parachute, and was followed quickly by Steve, leaving you and Sam to bring up the rear.

“Go!” Sam screamed.

Despite having jumped out of planes with the team before, it never got any easier. As you sailed through the air, you chanced a glance back and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw Sam jump too, only to watch a hook pierce the middle of his wings, ripping them off, and knocking him off balance. He spiraled in mid-air; you screamed into the wind, unable to do anything else but pray Tony’s upgrades kicked in.

Turning your attention toward the rapidly-increasing ground below, you waited for the right moment to deploy your parachute. When you ripped the cord, the parachute deployed, but apparently during your scuffle with the Russian guards, one of them had managed to slash it.

“Fuck!” Your heart raced as the ground approached, bracing for impact.

----

Sam panicked for a moment before his backup wings exploded out of the back of the EXO, giving him control once again. When he looked down, he saw his worst nightmare. “Not again. God, not again.” Y/N was fast approaching the earth with a slit parachute; she had a healing factor sure, but there would be nothing to heal if she pancaked into the pavement.

He retracted his wings and sped toward the ground, his hand stretched out in an attempt to grab her, the parachute, anything that might soften the fall. “Please God, don’t do this to me.”

Within a few hundred feet of the ground, he managed to grab her, only to have the chute make him lose his grip. For the second time in his life, Sam watched as someone he loved fell toward the unforgiving earth.

[jupitermelichios]

Jupiter’s Top 10 Fic Series of the Decade

In no particular order (and belonging to no particular fandom)

Honourable Mentions: Of Hunters & Hellblazers by KittyAug - Self Help by maskedfangirl - Bad Jokes by hahaharley - Doubtful Sanity by DustToDust - Wilton’s Bakery ‘Verse by machine_dove & sproings -  Sic Gorgiamus Allos Subjectatos Nunc by etothepii - New Favourite F Word by Polaris - little beasts by noctiphany & likewinning

drawn into something by Nonymos (Venom, Eddie/Venom, Dan/Anne, Eddie/Venom/Dan/Anne)

“Eddie, you… and him.”

“Yeah.” Eddie stares at the floor. “And… and look, Annie, I know it’s weird, but I can explain, I…”

His voice breaks, he’s damn near tearing up, panic rising again—and he jumps when Anne cups his face.

“Hey, it’s—it’s all right, Eddie.” She’s making a valiant effort to smile. “Don’t get so worked up. I’m not gonna run screaming.”

“No?” He laughs and sniffs. “Damn. Starting to wonder what it’s gonna take, at this point.”

This is not Nonymos’s only entry on this list. In fact they may just be my favourite fanfic author of all time. Drawn into something is everything everything I want from a Venom sequel, emotional, kinky, romantic, and poly.

OTP: Fight Club by MorganOfTheFey (Detroit: Become Human, RK900/Gavin)

"One hundred. Ten X," Nines says, voice flat enough it almost doesn't sound like bragging. "I would have been decommissioned otherwise."

"Ohhhh. Aw, that's sad. Just," She tries to snap her fingers and gets distracted for a moment when she can't. "Jus'like that?"

"Yeah RK, that's so sad," Gavin echoes. "Can you play yourself despacito?"

His own phone blares the song barely a second later. Gavin drops a few f-bombs fumbling to get it out of his jacket pocket and turn it off. Then as soon as he puts it back in his pocket, it starts up again.

"Thank you for the suggestion, detective," RK900 says. "This is making me feel better."

The fourth part of this is still coming out, and it’s the highlight of my week when the new chapter drops.

Dreams of the Waking Man by Lex_Munroe (Marvel Comics, Wade/Cable, Daken/Bullseye, Wade & Hope)

All at once, it hurts.  It hurts worse than the day Nate died (because Wade couldn’t accept it back then, insisted that Nate had managed to timeslide out, that the busted old telemetry circuit would only let him go forward and he was just lost for a little while).

He sits in the middle of the floor, ducks his head, cries.

She was smarter than he was—than he is.  She’d known all along.  Brave girl.

Timesliding doesn’t work right on Wade, never has, and their cobbled-together sliding module barely had power to take one stringy teenager for one jump.

She’d known she was leaving her parents, that she certainly wouldn’t see one of them again and quite possibly wouldn’t see the other.

Wade allows himself a moment more for grief and shame and humility.  Then he clears his throat and wipes his eyes and gets back to work.

This may be the cleverest fic I’ve ever read. Crossovers, theoretical physics, and the best love story Marvel never wrote.

The Mountains Are The Same by bonehandledknife & Primarybufferpanel (Mad Max: Fury Road, Furiosa/Max, Furiosa/Ace, Everyone & Healthy Coping Mechanisms)

“'Real isn’t how you are made’” Gilly said with the air of a quote, of a Remembering, “'It’s a thing that happens to you.’”

Rotor closed his eyes in a long blink, “A thing that hurts, innit it right?”

“Sometimes,” Gilly agreed, squeezing his hand, “That’s life though, when you are Real. We all become it bit by bit. But it doesn’t happen if you’re not strong, if you’re not soft, if you’re not sturdy.”

“ But how can y'be all of those at once ?” he wheezed out. It’s getting hard to catch his breath.

“You are all that right now, aren’t you?” Gilly asked him with piercing eyes, “No one else of all these Boys has had the strength to ask for me. And I will Witness you as I have kept all those of my sisters who’ve fallen these past days.”

This series is not always easy, it doesn’t shy away from the hard or the dark or the painful, but it is always worth reading.

The Unspoken Truth by Nonymos (MCU, Clint/Loki)

Barton glared at him like he was trying to decide whether he was being mocked or not, but the next second, his shoulders slumped. Loki was familiar with the feeling – that dreadful feeling of discovering something repulsive in one's own nature.

And then, he waited. He waited for Barton to think and connect the dots, to realize that an obvious solution was standing just before him, to remember how he had felt when waking up tied down, or being forced to drink down the water. The demi-god just stood there, hoping – almost praying for the first time in his life – that his enemy would look up at him with something else than hatred in his eyes.

No one writes kink quite like Nonymos writes kink, and this series is the perfect encapsulation of that.

The Stone Gryphon by rthstewart (Narnia, primarily Gen)

"Tools!" Richard was so shocked he was near speechless. He sat down heavily on the bench and began writing frantically in that strange code. "You are saying that you have observed ordinary crows use tools? Peter, that is… remarkable."

"Well, I've seen Beavers use fishing tackle and sewing machines, so it didn't seem that unusual at the time."

I’m not going to lie, this may not be to everyone’s taste. But, amateur theologian, lover of weird animal facts, and history nerd that I am, there are very few fics more exactly tailored to my interests.

Republic of Heaven Community Radio by ErinPtah (WtNV x His Dark Materials, Cecil/Carlos)

The greeting catches both her and Carlos off-guard. It's not wrong to talk directly to another person's daemon, but it's still a little weird. "Likewise," she stammers.

They're both waiting for the obvious next step, which is for Cecil to introduce his daemon. The fact that Carlos hasn't spotted her yet is understandable — a big community gathering in a small space, you get plenty of daemons breaking away from their humans to socialize directly with each other. Any of the dozen animal shapes currently within ten feet of them could be Cecil's. If his daemon has an unusually high range, there are even more possibilities.

What Cecil says instead is, "If you ever have any important experimental-theology news that you need to share with the town, call me any time! Everyone listens to my show." There's a touch of what Carlos hopes is nothing more sinister than smugness when he adds, "Everyone."

He steps out of the way to let someone else interrogate Carlos, and vanishes into the crowd. Carlos doesn't get a chance to see what daemon he leaves with.

This may be the most carefully thought out crossover I’ve ever read, and I’m a little in awe of ErinPtah’s skills.

The Soul in the Machine by missdreawrites & Troodon (Dishonoured, Corvo/Outsider)

“... Outsider?” Corvo asked, sitting down on the filthy floor. “In the published list of the people who died of the Plague… how many were registered Augments?”

<There have been a total of 231 dead in the past year. Of that group, 100% were Augmented individuals. This number has increased exponentially under Hiram Burrows�� “The Boldest Moves Are The Safest” law, allowing the execution of any individual infected by the Plague.>

“Son of a bitch, ” Corvo swore with feeling. “This is… look at this waste. We aren't even people to them, are we?” He looked down at the body next to him. “And I killed the one person who could help. I did this. I doomed an entire people to plague, and murder and…”

The cyberpunk Dishonoured AU I desperately wish I’d thought of, because it works so very well.

In Which Tony Stark Builds Himself Some Friends (But His Family Was Assigned by Nick Fury) by scifigrl47 (MCU, Steve/Tony)

“Do you know what the difference between a villain and a super villain is, Stark?” Coulson said, leaning his palms on the tabletop, looming over everything like a very snappily dressed gargoyle.

“Style?” Tony asked, pointing both index fingers in Coulson's direction like the gunslinger that he was. He added a wide grin to the gesture, but Coulson didn't seem to notice.

“A villain has a giant mass of robotic vacuum cleaners that he can sic on his enemies. A super villain gives them the ability to fly.”

“In my defense, I do not actually remember installing repulsor technology in the Roombas,” Tony said, choosing his words carefully. It had been a working theory, sure, but he still wasn't quite sure when he implemented it. Maybe sometime on Tuesday night... That one was a blur. “It was a very long couple of days. So I was as surprised by that as everyone else.”

This doesn’t really count as a rec, since everyone in the fandom has read it already, but it really wouldn’t be fair to draw up a ‘best of the 2010s’ list and not include this.

A Great and Gruesome Height by mokuyoubi (Hannibal, Will/Hannibal)

Bedelia lashes out but Will is quicker. He grabs her wrist, pressing hard between the delicate bones with his thumb, until she makes a soft noise of distress and drops the fork.

Hannibal purses his lips and leans in close to her ear. “Now that is disappointing,” he whispers, and Bedelia has the good sense to be afraid with that mouth so near her skin. He inhales her scent deeply and straightens. “I thought you and I were beyond such petty jabs.”

“Were it not for the fact that you required medical attention, I have no doubt I would have met a similarly crass ending at the hands of your pet,” she says, lip curling in disgust.

Hannibal smiles serenely and says, “Will is a creature entirely of his own making. It is not to me to guide his hand. Merely to share in the sublime perfection of his vision, when he allows it.”

There are many dark!Will stories out there, and most of them are a lot of fun, but few are quite at believable as this one.

[shaydeoffical]

Bright as a Diamond. Hitoshi Shinsou x Fem Reader: Chapter Four

Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Chapter Three: 

https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/611141904327983104/bright-as-a-diamond-hitoshi-shinsou-x-fem-reader

Chapter Five: https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/612522066443436032/bright-as-a-diamond-hitoshi-shinsou-x-fem-reader

Monday

   My alarm was a few minutes from going off, so I sat in silence, waiting for it to cry out that I had to move. The new mattress was firm enough; I didn't sink but soft enough that it supported my curves. Still, I couldn't fight off the nightmares.

   With the first siren, I had shut down the machine. Grasping my compact, I dabbed concealer under my eyes and applied the thinnest layer of blush I could get by with. Pushing my hair up into a tight bun, I was happy with my minimal look.

   Grabbing my phone, I nearly dropped it to the floor—two thousand unread emails on my school account. My lips formed into an o, and I remembered that I had been the main topic of the Wednesday paper, of course, someone would leak my email.  

   As I scanned the emails, most were for charity auctions. Wanting me to demonstrate how my quirk works, then offer the highest bidder one of my perfect diamonds. Others were from geologists wishing to study how I create crystals from nothing but my body. A few were from people spilling their life story and asking for my help. The list went on and on and on.

   "Shota?" I called my uncle, stumbling, from my room. He was in his sleeping bag on the kitchen floor.

   "Hmm?" he glanced up.

   "Someone leaked my university email." I whimpered, pursing my lips together. "How am I supposed to see what my professors post. People know my school now. Like- I-"

   "Calm down." Shota sat up and took my phone. "Go finish getting ready, and I'll fix it."

   "Yes, sir." I went back to my room, pulled on my tighter pencil skirt, then I remembered. Then I put on a purple blouse and a cute blazer. Of course, the jewelry I wore mattered, so I put the necklace my dad made me under my shirt and placed a simple chain to be visible. Then I positioned some magnetic gold studs and put a gold anklet on over my pantyhose. Before leaving my room, I created ruby, emerald, and a diamond to top it off. With the gems in my hand, I crushed them into fine sand then added them to my jar.

   After that, I brushed my teeth, put on honey inspired perfume, and emptied my bladder. Nothing was going to hold me back from making a sale today. Of course, I preferred being in the background, but I could still rock the front line and make some sales.

   When I was back in the living room, Shota handed me my phone, and as he said, all the spam was gone. "Wow, thank you so much," I beamed, scrolling through my inbox, checking to see if my teachers had any important messages.

   "Breakfast," Hizashi yelled. When I entered the kitchen, there sat none other then Shinso. He was at one end of the table, and Shota took the other. With my nose upturned, I sat across from Hizashi and served myself.

   "Good morning," Shinso greeted me, offering me the dish filled with rice.

   "Hmph," I took the dish and plopped out a portion. "Thank you."  

   "So you were raised with manors," Shinso smirked, then raised a brow.

   "It's too early," I warned, popping my fingers and a rouge opal hitting the table. "Shit."

   "Does that happen often?" Hizashi picked up the dime-sized oval and held it to the light. "It's huge."

   "You're embarrassing me," I reached for the stone, but he kept it arms length. "Let me handle it."

   "This is beautiful, we need to have it made into something. Wow, Shota did you know-"

   "Please give it back." Tears were close to spilling over, but I held it back.  The heads of the table were silently watching. God, they were looking at me. I didn't want Shinso to know. I did-

   "This would look great on my guitar." Hizashi was still in his own mind. I couldn't breathe. Why?

   Trembling, I stood from the table and grabbed my phone. I couldn't glance at any of them, having looked like enough of a brat. "Ya know what, keep it. It will look super cool, just never tell anyone where it came from." I winced but kept walking to the door. I needed to change the wrap on my feet. "I'm going to be late."

   "I was going to drive you," Shota interjected, sitting up.

   "No, thank you. I'm leaving with enough time to make it. Thanks for breakfast." I hadn't eaten more than a few bites, but it didn't matter.

   Leaving like this meant I couldn't make lunch or pack a pocketbook for my money. I had a ten in my pocket and a hankie for the rest of the day. Picking up my bike, I hurdled off the porch getting a good first push. I hadn't gotten much taller since I was fourteen, so the seat was still in a decent position.

   Halfway to the main road, I was low on the breath but kept going. Tears had been free-flowing since I shut the door, but I refused to wipe them away. My quirk was dangerous, my quirk was valuable, my quirk was a double-edged sword. It's not that I cared that Hizashi loved my opal. I was ready to kill myself for losing control and making it. Putting myself in danger was the issue.  

   If that happened in public, I'd be in a huge mess. Hell, it already had happened and had been made public. Now I was in the same position as my father, but maybe even worse. Nothing was worse than the world, knowing my secret.

   I must have been a site when I hit the main road. Tears flowing thicker than sweat. Dressed to kill, while pleading a children's bicycle. As long as no one tried to talk to me, I'd calm down before I had to make a good first impression.

   The nice thing about the jewelry industry is they didn't want me to make jewels. Well, not my personal store, they were more interested in keeping the demand high and supply scarce.  In fact, the article published about me probably hurt some of our customers.  We specialized in ethically sourced gems and offering natures best. I was not nature, I was something else.

   When I finally got to the store, I had five minutes before I was to clock in. I ran into the bathroom and splashed water on my face. My phone buzzed, and a picture of my bike was sent to my phone.

   The number was unknown, so I ignored it. Preceding out of the bathroom with caution, I was meet with my coworker from my last job.  Kira Nara, the boy who blew my quirk out of the closet. He was older than me by around seven years, divorced, and easy enough to get along with.

   "What are you doing here?" I shuffled from one foot to the other, feeling a slight squish. If I could catch a break for even one moment, that would be nice…

   "I transferred too," he grabbed my hand and bowed. "I felt so bad over the whole picture thing, that I wanted to move in solidarity. We are in this together." I could see the black hair on his head was thinning, probably a mix of age and stress. "The shop back home was such a mess after you left. News reports kept dropping by, and all these companies asking for donations. The boss thought it would be good if I came with you."    

   "In other words, since you spilled the beans, everyone wanted to talk to you as well." Kicking the carpet slightly, I pulled my hand free. "Alright, let's make the best of this."

   "So you forgive me?" He lifted from his potion, hanging to every word I could utter.

   "Yes, you didn't know. Just don't do it again." I was too soft for my own good. Still, I couldn't cause a riot within the workplace. "So have you meet the boss yet?"

   "I am the manager," he gushed, gesturing to his name badge.

   "Oh. So will I get to meet the head manger?" I asked, stepping behind the counter and finding my case key taped on the side of the safe.

   "At some point, he mainly works the busy hours. Really they didn't need this position, but they felt loyal to our branch. It works in our favor." Kira pressed a hand against the case, and it took everything in me not to slap him upside the head. His large hands left an imprint that I would need to wipe down later, no doubt.

   "Okay, so it's going to be quiet. That's good, more time for homework." I walked over to the stool and started to pull up my e-books. Kira had already put the display out, and I knew that was all I needed to do till a customer strolled in.

   "So did you move somewhere around town?" Kira slid down to where I sat, adding more fingerprints.

   "Something like that," I nodded, scrolling to the next page of my book. "Did you relocate?"

   "I did. You should come by and see the place. It overlooks the ocean and has an indoor pool. You love to swim, don't you?" He pulled up a chair and sat across from me.  It never mattered when acted like this in the back, but now he was blocking the display. Sure there were no customers yet, but it didn't look very professional.

   What are you thinking, (Y/n), you're his only friend in this city? Of course, he's nervous and just trying to settle in. Not everyone is as familiar as yourself with running the front of the shop.

   "Yes, I love swimming. But it's hardly the season for that anymore." Pushing my phone back into my pocket, I smiled. "So do they allow pets. I'm sure you brought your puppy with you. A German Shepard mix, right?"

   "Of course, I brought Miso." He lit up with my full attention. "Did your mother come with you?"

   "Uh, no." I clamed up, trying to refocus the conversation. "I'm so much closer to the university through. It's exciting."

   "Oh yea, I'm sure you're doing well in your classes. You're so intelligent and dedicated, you must be at the top of the class."

   "Don't flatter me, I'm doing well but not that well. I'd be doing better if my mom wasn't so sick." I rolled my tongue over my teeth and started to think about my next training session.

   "It's a quirk related illness, right?" He pried.

   "Something like that. Oh, a customer," an older lady walked in. I cursed for not having the glass spotless. But tended to her needs regardless.

   True to my word, I made a sale on my first day. A fifty dollar glass bead bracelet with customizable charms. She was in love with the birthstone charms and got one for each of her grandchildren.  I was able to explain the properties of the birthstones and offer her a wide array of cuts for the gems.

   My body rushed with emotions, as the lady stepped outside. The simple sale reminding me how much I enjoyed sharing my passion for stones. That was the only customer for the rest of the shift. As I was part-time, and Kira had been promoted to manager, I was able to call it a day.

   Kira had talked my ear off all day, but I did find time to study when he took his lunch break. With so much left to read, I put the audio text reader on and listened to my lesson on the way home. Of course, their big hill that was a bitch to walk up this morning, but fun to glide down now. Using that momentum, to make it the side road to lead home.

   My tummy rumbled, and I was more than ready to eat a horse. I used my ten to buy a few snacks at the convince store that was now secured on the handlebars. I smiled, seeing the small ranch house, and pedaled down the driveway.  

   When I got my shoes off, I realized that I had opened my wounds, and now my blood was dried to my socks. Cursing under my breath, I decided to rip them off quickly. With the first one-off, I curled into my side and breathed through the pain.

   Hips bleeding. Bruises up and down. Sleeping on my back for relief. Neck cramps.

   Gritting my teeth, I pulled off the other and put on my house shoes. Scampering to the tub, I washed off all the sweat from my bike ride and the blood from my feet. Mixing in epsom salt to the water, I leaned back and enjoyed a moment alone. The water was hot as I could stand it, and I twirled in the water and imagined it like a hug.

   A knock on the door broke my train of thought. "(Y/n), can we talk?" It was Hizashi.

   "Can you hear me?" I asked, pulling the curtain back so my voice would travel further.

   "Yes. I wanted to apologize for this morning. Shota told me why it upset you. I'd never seen your quirk in action, and I was blindsided at how cool it was." I could imagine his frown from my position.

   "I'd make you a hundred opals, but I can't risk it. Even with my cover blown, I can't have people tracing them back to me." I popped a bubble as it drifted by. "No matter how awesome or cool, I have to pretend it doesn't exist. I forgive you, and I'm sorry I have made it such a big deal. I lost control of my quirk for a moment and made things awkward between us."

   "We're all good now?"

   "Yes, we're good. We get along too well not be on excellent terms," relief washed over me as I sunk back into the water.

   "Rock on." He cheered, taping the wall before heading' off.

   Once my bath was done, I changed into my pj's early and made a quick sandwich before I went for a nap. After eating, I curled into bed and stared at my phone. The center's number was preloaded, but I couldn't find it in my heart to press call. Instead, I covered my face and closed my eyes, it would be better tomorrow.