#apparently you can’t actually eat food off of it but mo matter

[annie-in-the-real-world]

Y’all would NOT BELIEVE what I found in a random store today

Best $10 I ever spent

[hiccanna-tidbits]

“Let her come to me.”

Cyan waves ripple aside, and Moana steps onto the wet sand. In the distance, glowing veins of bright red stand out against pitch black and smokes and sparks and cinders fill the sky.

All fire and fury and burning...like the worst of you. And the best.

The creature in the distance shrieks, drops to all fours and starts crawling across the seafloor. Mindless, furious, feral--far out of her reach. But she has to try.

Water coats her like a protective shell, flowing and rippling across her skin in a sort of dancing armor. Her hair rises and falls like ocean waves, encased in a little pocket of sea.

I have crossed the horizon to find you.

She’s come so far, sailed oceans and followed stars and felt so lonely and pained and lost she feels like she might die--but she kept on anyways. She kept on because all she wants in the world is fiery hair and eyes like the morning sky and the loudest presence she’s ever known and if she fucks this up now, she might never have that again.

And Moana would cross another horizon, if she had to. If that’s what it took to get her back.

Searing, clawlike fingers throw up wet sand. Moana keeps on. 

I know your name.

“You’re Merida Dunbroch,” she says, voice cracking. “You’re the best archer I’ve ever met. You’re crude and brash and unapologetic and fearless. You’d take on the whole world if it meant you could prove yourself. You love empire biscuits and apple tarts and you’d finish a whole roast chicken yourself if no one stopped you. You snort when you laugh and you eat like you’ll never see food again. You love feeling the wind in your hair, and getting it even more tangled because your mom used to hate brushing it out afterwards. You’ll climb to the top of any rock or cliff you can, no matter how dangerous it is, just so you can take in the view and drink in the wind. You’d do anything in the world for your little brothers, but you’d never, ever tell them that. You carved my name into your bow and told me it was so...so you could always take me with you, wherever you went.”

Moana’s voice breaks.

They have stolen the heart from inside you.

She remembers the smoke coming in and clouding the island, Te Ka lunging across the waves and onto the beach. The villagers screaming, fleeing to the top of the mountain to get out of the beast’s reach. Merida, the outsider, the one who fled from a kingdom far, far away to escape a destiny she didn’t want, the one whose boat had washed up one day and forced her to integrate to an entirely new way of life, bravely standing her ground with her sword brandished. The way she swung and struck and screamed with everything she had, trying to take down a monster twenty times her size to protect a village she had only called home for a little over a year. The way she kept fighting even as Te Ka closed her hands around her and black rock began to grow on her skin.

She kept fighting until the very end, when Te Ka took her away. When Te Ka corrupted her, made her into something just like the vast, wrathful goddess.

When the lava coursed through her, it must have burned her heart away until she was left with nothing, like Te Ka.

But there had to be something still in there. Moana had to believe that.

She couldn’t come all this way to find out she was wrong.

But this does not define you.

The lava beast draws closer. Moana can see the eyes. They’re vast, golden-orange pits, impossible to read.

Impossible to see if the girl she knew was still behind them.

But she had to be. Merida Dunbroch was not one to go down with a fight. Not one to let herself be lost completely. She was the strongest person Moana had ever known.

This is not who you are.

The anger. The rage. The hatred. The pain. Moana knew they all belonged to Merida--all things Te Ka could feed off of to power her little double. Anger at being forced to be someone she wasn’t, rage at being “auctioned off” into a political marriage when she knew she could never love a man. Hatred at a world that didn’t care to understand her, that told her every time she was loud or impassioned or stubborn that it made her shameful and disgusting and worthless. The pain at being trapped and alone in a place where she was going to have to put on a facade for the rest of her life.

But there was more in her. She smiled radiantly, she laughed hard, and she loved fiercely. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for people who showed her kindness and care. She loved amusing the other villagers, loved making her friends happy. She doted on Pua and HeiHei with surprising gentleness.

There was so much more in her than anger and chaos and cruelty and destruction. And that was what Moana needed her to remember.

You know who you are.

The lava creature pauses, snarling mouth hanging open, hair flowing behind in billows of smoke. Moana steps forward, willing her to remember. Needing her to remember. The playful shoves, the evening dance lessons, sipping coconut water as they watched the sun go down. Moana knew all of it still had to be inside of her somewhere.

What had once been Merida wouldn’t be pausing in attacking her if it wasn’t.

Moana steps forward, and the lava creature doesn’t move. Taking a breath, she presses their foreheads together. It burns and sears like anything, but Moana just doesn’t care. The lava creature closes her eyes, still and calm in a way Moana never thought she’d see again.

“Who you truly are,” she whispers.

She reaches up and places a water-cased hand on the hard, rocky chest, and the lava beneath sizzles and steams as it dries and hardens into black rock. A soft rumble fills the air as the rock begins to split, water snaking over it and burrowing into the cracks. Chunks begin to shear off and thump into the sand, and Moana catches sight of pale skin and a torn dress.

She watches in wonder as the ebony shell crumbles away--first her chest, then her arms, and finally her face. Two wide, pale blue eyes stare at her in amazement as smoke disperses and lava slides away and what’s left is a head full of bouncy orange curls.

“Mo?”

Merida says it uncertainly, like she’s in the strange space between wake and sleep where she can’t quite tell what’s real and what’s in her mind. Moana laughs, and she wraps Merida in her arms and crushes the other girl against her--so she’ll know this is real.

“You’re back,” Moana sniffs. Somewhere in her laughs, tears have begun to fall. “You came back to me.”

Merida laughs, and holds her back. They both sink into the sand, clinging to each other like there’s nothing else in the whole universe to cling to.

And maybe there isn’t.

“What are yeh doin’ way out here?” Merida murmurs against her ear, tone surprisingly stern. “The ocean’s a dangerous place, lassie. And Ah know damn well yeh can’t actually sail, no matter what et is yeh tell yerself.”

“I had to come to you,” is all Moana says.

Merida seems to melt even further into her grip. “Yeh...came all this way...for me?” Her voice breaks as she says it. “Why?”

“I love you.”

The words slip out before Moana can stop them.

Merida leans back and studies her inquisitively, and all Moana can think is I’m fucked.

The next second Merida’s hands are on her cheeks and she’s pulling the other girl forward to kiss her ferociously.

Moana is frozen, stupefied, completely unable to move. She never thought she’d be here, living this moment--but bringing Merida back was only the first of the miracles to happen today, apparently.

Moana slowly lifts her arms, draping them over Merida’s shoulders and melting into her.

“Ah love yeh, too, lass.” Merida pauses long enough to breathe it into her ear. “Ah just didn’t know how tae say et. Ah never thought yeh’d look at me that way. Ah was scared yeh might think et was...wrong.”

Moana responds by kissing her again. Before they know it, they’re tipping over, lying entangled on the wet ground. Sand stirs around them, slowly coating their skin and already-dirtied clothes as they press closer and closer into each other, but they realize that they just don’t care.

Moana is filling with warmth--so vast and full and overpowering that she can’t help but wonder if Merida still has some of that lava left in her. Whether she does or not, Moana can only form one thought as she laces her fingers through sandy red curls.

I’m never letting you go again.

***

When Merida next feels lava on her skin, it’s dozens of years later.

She doesn’t know what to make of it, waking up with cracked black rock on her skin again and streams of lava curling away from her scalp in fiery hair. But it doesn’t burn, it doesn’t hurt--it feels all too right. The power, the passion, the vigor of when she was taken over by Te Ka is there--but this time, she can control it.

Merida lived a long life. A happy life. She stayed on Motunui--even when the village began voyaging again, charting new lands, she always came back to their home with Moana. Her Moana. They passed together on a summer evening, lying on the beach with their hands entwined and the tribe safely in the hands of the fine young man they had chosen to be the next chief-to-be.

When Te Ka became Te Fiti, it appeared a vacancy opened--the need for a goddess of volcanoes and lava, now that the goddess of life had returned. Life was a cycle, after all--you couldn’t have green and growth and lushness with burning magma and barren rock and life sizzled out. That’s where Merida guessed she came in.

It baffled her, why some outsider like herself would be chosen for such an honor. She had worked hard at becoming a great warrior, protecting the people she had adopted as her own. But ascending to godhood? She didn’t deserve something like this.

And then she sees her walking over the horizon.

Her body is made entirely of water--curves in shining cyan, dress splashing around her laced with foaming whitecaps, hair whipping behind her in rippling ocean waves. But her hands, her face, her eyes--there’s no mistaking it’s her.

“Moana?” Merida whispers.

They run to each other, ripping across land and pounding through sea to reach one another. When they crash together, steam rises around them in graceful billows--the heat of lava and the cool of ocean, united into a gentle mist.

“Moana? How are we here?”

“The ocean chose me a long time ago, to return the heart of Te Fiti and restore life to the world,” Moana murmurs into her shoulder. “And now it’s chosen me again--for something more important. I’m one with the ocean now, making sure it brings and sustains life for all the generations to come. But you...you deserve to be here with me, contributing to the endless cycle.” She leans back and gives Merida a soft smile. “So I may have put in a good word for you.”

Merida laughs. “Are yeh sure et isn’t cuz yer too clingy tae let me go?”

Moana just smles. “That too. I guess eternity seems a lot more tedious to pass when you’re not there.”

They’re an odd pair. The goddess of the ocean, who gives homes to sea turtles and whales and bright fish, who guides ships between islands, who’s always there for someone to dip their feet in on a hot day...and the goddess of volcanoes, who explodes with burning magma, who rains ash and smoke across the sky, who brings unquestionable death to all those who don’t get away fast enough. But when they touch, when they kiss, when they tangle themselves up in one another, pieces of volcanic rock topple into the sea and grow lush and full with life bursting from every seam. The goddess of the sea and the goddess of lava make more life together than they ever could apart. 

Sometimes they must temper one another. An especially vicious volcanic explosion is stopped only by the cool calm of the sea. Fierce stormclouds that could sink ships are pulled apart by clouds of smoke and ash. Magma rises from the ocean floor, calming tsunamis. Rain puts out the worst of the fires from spewing lava. It’s a balance.

But at the end of the day, when the sky clears and new islands come to be, green and lush and full of fruit and palm trees and vines and animals that hum and chirp and buzz, there can be no doubt that the two goddesses can’t be without each other.

There can be no doubt that the goddess of the ocean and the goddess of volcanos are deeply--and eternally--in love.

***

WELL WELL WELL! A lot of people seemed to really like my Moanida Goddess AU, so I made a moodboard and started writing a drabble and...this happened, I guess? The story came out a lot longer and more angsty than I planned, but oh well--hope y’all like it!

Legit love how these two balance each other out. I feel like the chaotic, reckless “fire energy” of Merida definitely needs kind of a calm, rational “water energy” from someone like Moana. Merida needs someone level-headed to talk her out of doing Dumb Shit without being mean-spirited or talking down to her about it, and Moana needs someone like Merida to drag her out of her comfort zone and help her face off her demons and self-doubt and whatever. Literally a perfect match! God I fucking love Fire x Water pairings so much. Can you tell I’m also a fan of Zutara

Also yeah I’d definitely be on board with Moana x Te Fiti if Fi wasn’t a giant-ass goddess like 20 times Moana’s size. Can you tell? But sue me, that entire scene did in fact have sapphic vibes.

@takaraphoenix Moanida time!!!

Pic credits available upon request!

[let-the-dream-begin]

When the World is Free Chapter 5: Calm My Heart

Chapter 4

Read on AO3

Claire moaned again in pain, and Jamie rushed to grasp her hand, which she eagerly took.

“It’s alright, a nighean. Breathe. I’m here.”

She huffed through her puffed cheeks, panting heavily and riding out the wave of pain.

“There you go. It’s alright.”

Jamie looked up from Claire’s sweaty, pained face to find the source of the other voice. John was grasping her other hand, stroking her hair back. Jamie briefly saw red, but then another little sound from Claire had him snapping his attention back to her.

John had been the one to fetch Geillis after Claire’s waters had broken. He’d dashed out the door before Claire could say another word. After Claire had changed her dress and put on a sanitary belt to catch any leaking fluids that hadn’t come out in the initial gush, Jamie had tried to rush her into bed.

“It’s better if I walk around for a bit. Just walk around the flat with me. But not until you clean that up.”

Jamie obliged her immediately, cleaning up the fluids that had leaked from her body. She started clearing the table, washing her own dish and silverware along with the pots and pans Jamie had cooked with.

“Sassenach, let me — ”

“Make sure the floor is clean and dry. The last thing we need is somebody slipping while I’m in labor. I’m perfectly able to clean the dishes right now.”

Jamie stared at her, dumbfounded, before returning to his task on the floor. When he finished, he brought her his own and John’s plates.

“Absolutely not. You’ll be finishing that, and you’ll leave John’s out for him. It’s going to be a long night and I’ll not have either of you fainting on me.” She aggressively scrubbed the pan in her hands. “It’s not as if either of you got much eating done during that screaming match.”

“Claire…” Jamie said helplessly, putting the plates down on the counter. “Sassenach…I…”

“Eat, Jamie. Now.”

It was a barking command, the likes of which he’d often heard her give in a field hospital. Without another word, he swallowed his pride and continued eating his food at the counter, not leaving Claire’s side despite how she likely wanted him to at the moment.

“Seven and a half centimeters,” Geillis said, sounding satisfied. “Ye’re right on track, lass.”

“How much longer?” Jamie said, not at all unaware of the panic in his own voice. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear seeing Claire like this.

“She’s doing a wee bit over half a centimeter every hour, so if that keeps up, she’ll be fully dilated in about two and a half hours, maybe less, maybe more if she stalls.”

“Stalls? Is that bad?” John asked.

“No, no, just means it’ll take longer.”

“It better bloody not,” Claire growled through gritted teeth.

“Ye’re doing a braw job, mo ghraidh.” Jamie kissed her temple gently. “Ye’re a braw lass. You can do it, stalling or no.”

“Here, drink,” John urged, having retrieved the glass from the nightstand on his side of the bed. He held it to her lips and Claire sipped gratefully, letting her head fall back on the pillows after she finished.

“Aye, that’s it. Take a rest while ye can.”

Claire had apparently been in the latent stage of labor for about two days and not even known it. Claire had told Geillis that she’d apparently been cramping all day, news which Jamie had reacted very strongly to, lamenting that she should have told him. Geillis explained she’d likely nearly reached six centimeters without even realizing, and her water breaking had hastened along the process, putting the contractions much closer together.

Geillis arrived when Claire was scrubbing down the stove, having already cleaned the table and all the counters. Jamie had been following her around the kitchen with John’s plate, begging her to stop and sit down, drink some water, or just take a breath, dammit.

Geillis’s bubbly giggling had Jamie snapping his head up from the stove.

“Thank Christ ye’re here. Would ye tell this madwoman to stop fussing about the kitchen?”

“Actually, walking around is rather good to speed things along — ”

“I told you,” Claire snapped.

“But she’s been doing this since her waters broke. And she keeps stopping to howl in pain.”

“How far apart are the contractions?”

“Five minutes,” Claire answered, still scrubbing the stove.

“Oh! Bloody hell, Claire, get the hell off yer feet!”

“Thank you!” Jamie sighed in relief. “Will ye listen now, Sassenach?”

“Fine.” She threw her rag down. “But finish cleaning the stove.”

“Aye, aye,” Jamie waved her off. Anything to get her to listen.

She finally allowed Geillis to take her by the arm and lead her to the bedroom.

“Where’s John?” Jamie heard over his scrubbing, picking up on a clear tinge of panic to Claire’s voice.

“Oh, he told me he was off to get a drink. Dinna fash, my friend.”

“I want him here. Why did you let him go?”

Jamie grunted with annoyance, doubling down on his scrubbing so he perhaps wouldn’t hear Claire. Better she rage at Geillis than him, at least for now.

Jamie truly thought that Claire might fall asleep; her eyes were closed and she was peacefully still on her pillows. Then, unexpectedly, Claire jolted back up, her eyes popping open, all the veins in her neck and face popping out.

“Sassenach?” Jamie said, gripping her hand again.

She yelled out loud for the first time, her previous cries of pain having only been groans and moans.

“Breathe, Claire!” John said. “It’s alright, we’re here. Breathe.”

She continued her long, drawn-out cry, eventually clenching her teeth together and grunting through the rest of it.

“Well, I’ll be damned. The last contraction was only two minutes ago. And that was quite a long one. Wee Brian may be here sooner than expected,” Geillis said, her voice ever chipper.

“Ye hear that?” Jamie said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Ye’re a wonder, mo chridhe. Our son will be here so soon.”

Claire could only manage to nod, still breathing heavily.

Jamie finished up in the kitchen and sprinted into the bedroom upon hearing Claire groaning in pain. Geillis was inspecting between her legs, and they were conversing about how apparently several signs of labor had gone completely unnoticed by all inhabitants of the flat.

“Is that alright?” Jamie asked.

“Aye, that’s just fine,” Geillis said. “Makes it easier, really. Less work now that the water’s broken.”

“Jamie…”

“I’m here, Sassenach.” He was by her side in an instant, gripping her hand. “Dinna be afraid.” He could see it in her eyes, the doubt of herself that she was strong enough, the fear. “Ye’re tough as nails, lass. And I’m right here.”

She nodded uncertainly, and Jamie leaned in to kiss her sweetly.

“God…I’m so glad you’re here…” she said tearily, reaching up to cup his face in her hands. “I never thought…”

“Dinna allow those dark memories here, Claire. We’re all together now.” He put his hand on her belly, cupping her cheek with his other hand. “That’s all that matters.”

She kissed him again, then flicked her eyes away.

“Did John say when he was coming back?”

Jamie felt bile rise in his throat, burning.

“He didna. But, ye ken fathers,” Geillis said, and then blanched, looking over at Jamie with wide eyes. “Well…ye ken what I mean…men dinna usually want to see the gory bits of a child’s life beginning.”

Apparently, the strangeness of their situation was not lost on Geillis.

“But he knows I want him here,” Claire said, her voice rising in pitch and volume with panic. “He knows I want him here.”

“Oh. Well then I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Likely just needed to take the edge off.”

Claire turned her attention back to Jamie, her eyes frantic.

“Dinna fash, mo chridhe. All will be well. Just relax. Fer the bairn.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “All will be well.”

“You’re doing splendidly, my dear,” John said, his hand on her shoulder. “Little Brian has no idea how lucky he is to have you.”

Claire turned her head from Jamie to John, a groggy smile lighting her features.

“I’m…I’m so lucky to have you both here…” Claire said breathily, reaching up to cup both of their cheeks.

Jamie flicked his eyes to John, making brief, uncomfortable eye contact before they both turned their attention back to Claire.

“And we are lucky to have you, Claire,” John said, not skipping a beat. “Bringing this child into the world.”

Jamie heard what John left unsaid.

Bringing our child into the world.

Jamie had to literally bite down on his tongue to stop himself from protesting. He was fighting very hard to keep it together for Claire’s sake. It would do no good to upset her over this while she was in labor. These things could be addressed later.

Two hours passed of Claire intermittently pacing and lying down, contractions and dilations measured. Claire tried to heave herself off the bed again, but Geillis stopped her.

“I think it’s best if ye stay in bed from here on out, Claire,” she said gently. “Everything is going perfectly. It’s just going to keep getting harder and harder to get up.”

Claire nodded in complacence, lying back on the pillows. Jamie was secretly grateful; every time Claire heaved herself out of bed, he felt like he could vomit with fear.

“It’s been hours,” Claire said suddenly. “Where is he?”

Jamie saw red.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Sassenach,” he said as gently as he could muster. “Just taking the edge off, as Geillis said.”

“For three hours?” she snapped. “No, I don’t like this. I want him here, now.”

“Claire — ”

“You know how important this is to me, Jamie. I do not want a rehashing of the conversation at dinner.” She said the word ‘conversation’ with no small amount of bitterness. “It’s not as if having you here isn’t enough, so please don’t think that. It’s just…I can’t explain it. He needs to be here. And if you truly love me, you won’t need to know the reason why.”

Jamie swallowed thickly, taking a deep, calming breath.

“I’m sorry, lass. There’s nothing I can — ”

“Oh, yes there is. You can go get him. You know the pub he goes to.”

“Out of the question. I’ll not be leaving yer side.”

“Geillis and I are quite capable, thank you very much,” Claire said. “And I don’t think I need to remind you that you are the reason he isn’t here. The things you said and the way you acted are why he feels unwelcome.You need to make it right.”

She squeezed his hand tighter, moaning in pain, clenching her teeth through another contraction. Jamie guided her through it mutely, unable to muster any sound.

“…And you need to do it fast,” she continued, as though uninterrupted. “Or you’ll both be missing it.”

Geillis proceeded to veritably shoo him out of the room.

“And don’t even think about coming back here without him,” Claire added as he was pushed out the bedroom door. “I’ll want nothing to do with you if you manage to make it worse while I’m lying here in fucking labor.”

——

“Ten centimeters!” Geillis cried. “It’s time, Claire. Let’s move ye to the stool.”

Geillis had been right; Claire was fully dilated in under two hours. Jamie thought he might faint nearly eight times from nothing other than the sheer panic of hearing Claire’s pain.

And they’d assured him plenty of times that the worst was yet to come.

John rushed around the bed to help Jamie lift Claire off the bed and into the wooden birthing stool that Geillis promptly slid under her. Without even thinking, Jamie slid back into the chair that he’d been sitting in beside the bed, gathering her into his arms from behind. Claire gratefully leaned into him. Geillis blanched again, looking uncomfortably back and forth between Jamie and John.

Oh.

It hit Jamie just then that where he sat right at this moment is what John had been preparing himself for for months. Jamie looked up and met John’s eye, and John quickly looked away, busying himself with something else. Claire was none the wiser, panting against Jamie like a wilted flower.

“It’s alright mo ghraidh. I’ve got ye.” Jamie pressed a kiss to the crown of her sweaty head, lacing their hands together atop his thighs. “I’ve got ye.”

Jamie briskly walked down the sidewalk toward the pub, hands shoved into his coat as deeply as the pockets would allow. He shouldered the door open, and it didn’t take long to find John sitting at the bar with his head in his hands, staring at an empty glass. Jamie sighed heavily, in dread and preparation for what was to come, and made his way to the stool next to him.

John picked his head up at the sound and presence of someone so close, and he jumped. “Jamie,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m dragging ye home,” Jamie said gruffly. “Claire didna want to look at me anymore until I brought ye back.”

John blinked several times. “You don’t…mind…?”

“Mind?” Jamie said, his eyes darkening. “It boils my fucking blood that the father of her child isna enough to be wi’ her right now.”

John seemed to shrink before his eyes.

“But,” Jamie continued. “The last thing I want is Claire in any distress while she delivers my child. So ye’re coming wi’ me. For her.”

“Listen, Jamie, I’m…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this. I didn’t know she didn’t want me to move out, I didn’t realize she still wanted me at the birth. I thought that since you were back…”

“Aye. I thought so too.”

“It isn’t what you think, Jamie,” John said, looking desperately into his eyes. “She can’t possibly…I don’t…”

“Aye,” Jamie said quickly, not wanting to hear where that line of conversation was headed. “She feels guilty. Her heart is too big fer her own good.”

John nodded curtly. “Right.”

“I think she feels like she used ye and needs to make it up to you.”

John sighed sadly. “She has nothing to make up for. I’d gladly let her use me over and over to spare her more pain. I’d do it all again, Jamie. I don’t regret it.”

“Aye,” Jamie said softly. “I don’t…I don’t regret ye doing it either. She needed…someone. I ken that now.”

John nodded.

“What I’m having a hard time understanding is why she still needs ye.”

John looked away, staring uncomfortably at the bottom of his glass.

“We’d uh…we’d better get back,” John said. “Before you miss it.”

“Keep going! Dinna stop!” Geillis called from the floor.

Claire was shrieking, lifting off the stool from the force of her bearing down on Jamie.

“You can do it, mo ghraidh,” Jamie cried over her howling.

“Alright, relax!” Geillis said. “She’s crowning. The head is coming.”

“I can’t do it…” Claire sputtered, sobbing against Jamie’s chest. “I can’t…”

“You can, and you will,” John said firmly, cupping her face in his hands. “You are the strongest woman I know, Claire Beauchamp.”

“Aye,” Jamie chimed in. “Ye must, Claire, and I know ye can. We’ve got ye.”

We.

That was the first time Jamie had acknowledged the other man in the room, and he noticed that was not lost on John.

Claire geared up for another shriek.

“It feels like I’m being split in half!”

“I ken, I ken, it’s alright — ”

“You don’t fucking ken!” she howled.

“Shh…” John soothed, wiping her face with the cold, wet rag.

“Push, Claire!” Geillis urged.

“Fuuuuuuuck!”

It was a long, drawn out cry that ended with a guttural sob.

“Braw, Claire! Two or three more pushes should do it!”

“Ye hear that?” Jamie said, squeezing her hands. “He’s almost here. He’s almost here, Sassenach.”

Jamie himself felt like sobbing, and he thanked the Lord that she wouldn’t be in pain for much longer. He also reminded himself to forbid her from giving birth like this ever again.

“You can do it,” John reminded gently, dabbing at her hairline. “You can do it.”

Claire shook her head, but even as she did, her body was seized by another contraction. She bore down fiercely again, lifting up. John stood so he could still reach her face with the rag, rubbing her back and shoulders as she pushed and wailed in pain.

“Good, good! Keep going!” Geillis cried.

Jamie was certain he was losing circulation in every one of his fingers, but he couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest. Before Geillis said she could, Claire collapsed back onto the stool, her head thumping against Jamie’s sternum.

“That was braw, Claire!” Geillis said. “One more push when ye’re ready, as long as it’s a long, good push.”

“You can do it,” Jamie whispered, kissing her temple. “Ye can. Christ, I love you…”

Claire let out a little whimper. “I love you…”

Jamie was overcome with adoration and unable to speak. He was in utter awe of her strength, in utter awe at the miracle that was childbirth, in utter awe that his bairn would draw his first breath soon.

Claire tensed again.

“Go, Claire! Push! Push like ye never have before!”

Claire shrieked in such a way that Jamie did not even think she was capable of. Geillis continued to coach her through it, both John and Jamie soothed her with words and with touches, and then Geillis cried out triumphantly.

And then Jamie’s heart stopped.

A shrieking of an entirely different sort pierced the air, and he hardly even felt when Claire collapsed back into him. What he did feel, however, was a hand gripping his forearm. John.

“Ye’ve a bonny wee lass!” Geillis cried, snipping the cord and giving the baby a brief wipe down with one of the many towels that littered the floor around them.

“A girl?” John said.

Claire was panting and whimpering in exhausted relief.

“Here.” Geillis reached up, having wrapped the baby haphazardly in a towel.

“Claire…” Jamie whispered hoarsely. “Oh, Christ…Claire…”

Claire uttered a whimper of a new kind, and she unthreaded her trembling fingers from Jamie’s.

“Put her on yer breast,” Geillis said softly.

Claire looked up at Jamie, then over at John, her eyes glossy.

“Go on, take her,” John said gently.

She did, opening her weary arms and allowing Geillis to place the baby there. Claire let out a beautiful, choked sound as the squirming, squalling, slimy, red infant settled in her arms.

“Claire…” Jamie uttered again, apparently unable to say anything else.

“Oh, God…” Claire said, her voice high and thin. “Jamie…”

Jamie brought a trembling hand to cup the baby’s head nestled in the crook of Claire’s elbow.

“Oh, Christ…” Jamie felt tears streaming down his face, and his throat burned. He realized then that John’s hand had not left his forearm, and it was now trailing further down.

Without even thinking, Jamie laced their fingers together, squeezing.

“Oh…hello darling…” Claire wept. “Oh…my sweet girl…”

“I’m going tae help ye deliver the afterbirth,” Geillis said gently. “It’ll go a wee bit faster if she nurses.”

Jamie continued soothingly rubbing the baby’s head as Claire fumbled with her nightgown to expose her breast.

“Go on, sweetheart…” Claire cooed, holding her breast so the nipple nudged at the little open mouth, still shrieking. “It’s alright. Mummy’s got you. Go on…”

“Ye can push now, Claire.”

Jamie could not even tell if Claire was obeying, because at that moment, the baby latched onto Claire’s breast, and the rest of the world fell away.

“Jamie…” Claire squeaked. “She’s…look…”

Jamie let out a choked sound of his own, pressing a fervent kiss to her head.

“Does it…does it hurt…?” John asked tentatively.

“No…” Claire said. “They say it’s supposed to, just a little…but I don’t feel a single thing…”

Her eyes were locked on the little face, squinting eyes shut peacefully as she suckled, her tiny hand resting on the swell of her mother’s breast. Jamie’s hand still cupped her head.

“Another push.”

Jamie heard Claire give a little grunt then, but other than that, she seemed relatively unaffected by delivering the afterbirth. She’d mentioned that it wouldn’t be nearly as painful as the actual labor, and Jamie also understood what she meant when she said she couldn’t feel any pain at all. Jamie was certain that he could be run through with a dirk right at this moment and he wouldn’t feel a thing.

The only thing he could feel was Claire’s body pressed against him, his child’s head in his hand, his heart swelling permanently, and John’s hand in his.

“Hungry wee thing,” Jamie chuckled.

“After all that work she just did? Of course,” Claire said, her voice light and bouncy; her baby voice.

“She’s…she’s beautiful, Claire,” John whispered.

“She is,” Claire said reverently. “You’re so beautiful, darling…” She ran a finger over her delicate little cheek.

“Just wait until she’s all cleaned up,” Geillis said cheekily. “Few more pushes should do.”

Soon after, the baby’s mouth fell away from Claire’s nipple, but her hand remained on her breast, as did her cheek, squishing her open mouthed face. Claire giggled at this, and Jamie chuckled softly.

“All done,” Claire whispered in her little baby voice, gently pushing the baby’s lips together. “All sleepy now…”

Jamie didn’t realize Claire was rocking until he felt himself rocking as well. Claire gave the occasional grunt or small moan of pain, and then Geillis announced the afterbirth was delivered; labor was finished. Claire continued to wince as Geillis cleaned up her thighs and between her legs as delicately as she could, and then she was standing up in front of them.

“Alright. I’ve got tae clean her up and get her swaddled proper now.”

Claire shook her head adamantly, not taking her eyes off the baby.

“I’ll be bringing her right back, lass. Dinna fash.”

Jamie felt panic seize his own heart, despite knowing how ridiculous it was.

“It’s alright, mo nighean donn. She’ll be right back,” Jamie whispered gently.

“It feels like…I’ll die if I’m parted from her for even a moment…” Claire whimpered.

“Aye. I ken. It’s alright. I promise,” Jamie coaxed.

Claire relented then, sniffling as she looked up at Geillis and lifted the baby to her.

“That’s a good lass. Get her into bed, gentlemen. I’ll just be in the bathroom if ye need me.”

Jamie watched Geillis go, feeling as though she was walking away with a piece of his own heart, and he’d never feel whole again until it was returned to him.

Jamie only remembered the task at hand when he noticed that John had adjusted his position to prepare to lift Claire off the stool. Jamie felt the smallest flash of anger; he was perfectly capable of lifting her himself, of settling her gently into bed and seeing to her comfort on his own. But any lingering thoughts as such melted away when Claire leaned bodily into both of them, and Jamie got out of his chair and adjusted his grip as well. Jamie looked up to see John watched him, and they locked eyes. John counted to three, and then she was up and into the bed.

“Gently,” Jamie warned, though something was telling him John did not need to be told as such.

Claire groaned in pain as her body came in gentle contact with the mattress.

“Ye alright?” Jamie asked.

“I’m fine…” she panted, leaning gratefully into the pillows that she’d had to abandon earlier.

“Do you want a fresh nightgown?” John asked. “This one is clinging to you, it looks uncomfortable.”

“God, please,” she groaned, her eyes closed. “I feel absolutely revolting.”

“Alright,” John said, sitting on the bed beside her. “Jamie, hold her upright, I’ll get it off her.”

Jamie did not hesitate, did not even think. He sat down on the other side, lifting Claire off the pillows delicately. There was no room for pettiness right now; Claire’s comfort was paramount.

Besides, the wee pervert had apparently already seen her naked.

John slowly and carefully peeled her nightgown off of her.

“Ye’re so brave, mo chridhe...”

Nightgown fully removed, John stood up. “Cool her down with that wet rag while I fetch the nightgown.”

Jamie nodded, concern for Claire not allowing him to contemplate that John was telling him how to take care of his wife.

With great care, Jamie patted down her chest, her stomach, her shoulders, her arms, her underarms. He gently rolled her over so he could pat down her back, trickling water over the expanse of white skin. John stood by quietly, waiting with the fresh nightgown as Jamie rolled her back over.

“Does that feel better?” Jamie asked, cradling her in the crook of his elbow like she was an infant.

“Yes, thank you,” she said breathily.

“Here you go,” John said, putting the nightgown over her head while Jamie held her up. “Before you catch a chill.”

After some careful maneuvering, Claire was dressed and propped up against the pillows, blankets pulled up to her waist.

“When is she coming back…?” Claire said, wide-eyed. “I miss her…”

“Aye.” Jamie stroked her hair with one hand, and laced the other with hers. “I ken.”

“Shouldn’t be too long now,” John assured.

“Don’t let me fall asleep before she gets here,” Claire said, though even as she said it, her eyes slipped shut.

Low and behold, shortly after that, Geillis was opening the bedroom door, a tiny swaddled bundle in her arms.

“Claire,” Jamie said, nudging her gently. “Here she is.”

Despite how exhausted Jamie knew she was, Claire’s eyes popped open, darting around the room until they landed on the bundle in Geillis’s arms.

“Oh, my darling…” She held her arms out, trembling with the effort, and she sighed with relief when Geillis placed the baby there. “Oh…hello, love…Mummy missed you…”

The baby’s eyes were closed, but she was making little snuffling noises, her limbs stirring in her swaddle.

“Christ, Claire…” Jamie said, his voice thin and frail. “Look at that hair…”

Now that she was cleaned, it was abundantly clear that her head was covered in tufts of wild red, the same as her father. Claire looked up at Jamie, beaming with proud joy.

“It’s beautiful,” Claire said, her eyes locked with Jamie’s.

“We…we made her…” Jamie said, awed, weaving his fingers gently in her red peach fuzz. “And she’s so beautiful…”

“Mhmm…” Claire nodded, returning her eyes to the baby. Without thinking, Jamie sat on the bed, pulling his legs up and leaning on the pillows, laying beside her.

“I’ll give you two…erm…you three a moment,” Geillis said, a pile of bloody rags and towels in her hands. “I’ll be boiling rags if ye need me.”

With that, she dipped out of the room, leaving father and mother alone with their gift.

No…not alone.

You three.

Jamie tore his eyes away from his daughter to look up at John, who looked very much like he wanted to follow Geillis out of the room, but like he was cemented to the floor, unable to move. At that moment, the baby made a small noise, and Claire gasped.

“Oh…hello…yes, baby, hello…” Claire crooned. She’d opened her eyes.

“Look at how she looks at ye,” Jamie said, his voice hoarse. “That’s yer ma, a leannan. D’ye see…?”

“Oh, her eyes are so beautiful…” Claire bounced her, stroking her cheek. “I hope they stay blue. She’ll look just like you.”

Jamie wanted to say that he hoped her eyes would turn that beautiful shade of whisky, it was on the tip of his tongue, but it was lost when the tiny blue orbs shifted, looking up at him.

“Jamie…” Claire whispered, as if afraid to disrupt the moment.

“She’s…she’s looking at me…”

“Yes, lovie, that’s your Da,” Claire said. “He loves you so much, baby.”

Jamie brought a trembling hand to cup her soft head.

“Here,” Claire said, lifting the bundle. “Hold her.”

“I…” Jamie sputtered. “She…”

“You won’t break her,” Claire said. “Take her.”

Jamie’s mouth went dry and his lips flapped uselessly. With a few small adjustments, the baby was being placed in his arms, and he choked out a gasp.

“Christ…she’s light as a feather…” Jamie whispered. “She weighs next to nothing.”

Claire leaned her cheek on his shoulder, staring at the sight of her baby in her father’s arms.

“She’s…sae tiny…” Jamie ghosted a finger over each of her features, her cheeks, her button nose, her lips.

And he wept.

He didn’t know. He didn’t think it was possible. He knew he loved Jenny’s bairns, but he had no idea.

He had no idea that he’d love her so terribly much.

It ached, it burned, it ate him alive. In that moment, he knew he would kill for her, die for her. He wanted to tear his heart out and give it to her. It felt like it was already gone.

He’d thought his heart was Claire’s alone, that there couldn’t possibly be room for another. But it was as if his heart had grown, and this wee thing had wedged her way into the newly formed craters.

He felt wetness on his shirt where Claire was resting her head, and only then did he become conscious of the sweet noises she was making, weeping with joy. They didn’t need to speak; they both knew.

After a few more quiet moments like this, Jamie felt Claire’s breath chuckle against him.

“It would appear that our Brian James is a Brianna,” she said quietly, brushing a little cheek with her finger.

Jamie raked his eyes over the entire little bundle, and then they narrowed, his brow furrowing. “What an awful name fer a wee lass.”

“It’s not awful!” Claire said, aghast. “It’s beautiful.”

Jamie chuckled to himself, his lips twitching into an unconscious grin. “Brianna,” he tried again, the ‘r’ unconsciously rolling. He let it settle in the air for a moment, and so did Claire. After a brief silence, he said:

“Ellen?”

“Hm?”

“Brianna…Ellen?”

Claire breathed audibly, perhaps in awe. “Brianna Ellen.” She picked her head up and looked at Jamie, and he tore his eyes away from that sweet little face to look at Claire. “It’s…it’s perfect, Jamie.”

“Aye.” Claire’s breathy laughter tickled his face, and a single tear trickled down his cheek. “It is.”

Claire leaned in and kissed him, locking their lips together in a way that seemed like they never had before. He held her there for a moment, and then their lips parted, their foreheads resting together lovingly. Claire nuzzled his nose with hers, and Jamie swore to God he’d never been happier in his life.

Then one of the floorboards creaked.

Claire turned her head immediately, breaking the warm contact between her face and Jamie’s.

“John,” she said. “Don’t go.”

Evidently, he’d finally gotten himself to move, and was making his way to the door.

“No, no, it’s alright,” John said quickly. “I’m sorry to have disturbed…I should have just left when Geillis did…”

“No.” Claire shook her head. “Please don’t go. Come here.”

John remained rooted in place, eyes wide, looking back and forth between Claire and Jamie.

“Please, John,” she said again.

John cleared his throat and then returned to where he was standing, on the left side of Claire. She patted the bed, and John flicked his eyes to Jamie, seeking permission.

Jamie did not move, did not at all indicate that he was allowing this, but neither did he deny either of them.

So John sat down, bending his right leg and folding it under his left, which remained off the bed.

“Do you like it?” Claire asked, adjusting her body so she was no longer fully facing Jamie.

“Do I…?”

“Her name,” Claire said gently. “Do you like it?”

“Oh,” John seemed taken aback. “I…I do.”

“Really?” Claire’s voice got lighter, more giddy. “I want you to like it. Do you really?”

“Yes, Claire. I do.” He looked down at the bundle in Jamie’s arms, and Jamie suddenly felt warm. “It suits her. Both of Jamie’s parents. It’s beautiful.”

“Good,” Claire breathed, beaming. “Oh…I’m so happy…”

In spite of Jamie’s discomfort, he laughed softly. John smiled.

“It warms my heart to hear that, my dear,” John said, putting a hand on her knee.

Jamie tried not to feel the way his stomach churned at the endearment and the gesture.

“Jamie, let me have her.” Claire reached for little Brianna, and Jamie didn’t think twice before returning her to her mother. Claire sighed with contentment when the baby settled in her arms again, and Jamie was overcome with love. He wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her far shoulder, kissing her temple. He closed his eyes, breathing her in, letting her hair tickle his nose, savoring the bliss of the moment.

“Here,” Claire said.

Jamie opened his eyes, and he stiffened.

She was holding the little bundle out to John.

Something was burning behind Jamie’s eyelids, throbbing his temples. It didn’t feel the same as when he’d found out about the marriage, or about their carnal knowledge of one another. But it was a burning nonetheless. It was making his head swim.

“I…” John stammered. “Claire…it’s…”

“You’re her father too, John,” she said softly, but adamantly.

Jamie tried not to feel the stabbing pang of betrayal.

He could not take his eyes off John as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his eyes locked on Brianna’s blue eyes.

“Go on. It’s alright,” Claire said.

John cleared his throat, swallowing again before he inched closer to Claire and outstretched his arms.

“Mind her head,” Claire reminded.

John exhaled with a tremor as Brianna’s warm weight rested fully in his arms, and Claire slowly pulled her hands away. John stared at her, and Brianna was staring back.

“Say hello, lovie,” Claire said in her baby voice. “Say hello to Daddy.”

Jamie tried not to feel like he’d been kicked in the throat.

John swallowed again, and his eyes began glistening.

And then he smiled.

He broke into the widest grin that Jamie had ever seen break over the man’s face.

And then tears trickled down his cheeks, and he laughed, a breathy, soft sound.

“Oh…hello sweetheart…” John cooed, bouncing her gently. “Hello…”

Jamie tried not to feel the way his heart fluttered.

“You beautiful little thing…” John went on. “Yes…hello, little love. I’m so glad to finally meet you…”

Jamie suddenly felt dizzy, and he tightened his grip on Claire’s shoulder to steady himself, feeling like he may fall over. Claire simply leaned into him, sighing blissfully.

“Thank you for letting him be here,” she whispered, barely audible.

Jamie said nothing, he just swallowed thickly.

And he tried not to hear the voice in his mind that said:

I’m glad he’s here, too.

[ofmermaidsandmarauders]

stolen dreams took our childish days chapter 4

Read on AO3 or FFN

March 2020

Fergus was playing in the yard when he heard the yelling. He was allowed to play outside when Jamie was home and cooking dinner because the man could watch him from the kitchen windows. He had seen Claire’s car pull up a few minutes ago and was surprised by the noise inside. His body tensed when he heard the smashing of glass. It was only then that Fergus realized it wasn’t the excited kind of yelling that the couple usually did. No, this was angry. He sank to the ground, clutching his knees to his chest. He just knew that at one point they would crack.

____________________________________________________

“You can’t just make these decisions without me, Jamie Fraser! I am your wife. That means your partner!” “Aye, I ken fine well what ye are, Sassenach. And I am entitled to purchasing what I damn well please wi’ my salary. You canna tell me what I can and canna buy!” Jamie knew that his argument was weak, but he was refusing to back down as he had just been trying to do something nice.

In hindsight, Jamie should have consulted with Claire before renting a beach house for an upcoming weekend. He knew that she would likely have it off work and thought it would be a fun way for them to celebrate the upcoming holiday. It would be the last one before Fergus had to finish out the school year with no breaks. He thought the lad would enjoy the open air and sand beneath his toes. He also thought Claire would enjoy the break, but he was apparently wrong.

“You better be fucking joking! I know you don’t truly believe that you don’t have to consult me on this type of spending! We have bills to pay, Fergus is going to need summer clothes, your car is up for inspection soon! Jesus Christ, sometimes I think you truly are daft!” Claire’s words spat out at him, dripping with vitriol.

“Daft? Daft? I’m just trying to make sure the lad has some good memories! Excuse me for tryin’ tae give him some fun! You’re always fecking workin’! I thought it would be a nice time for us to bond but I guess no’!” Jamie froze as the accusation came out of his mouth. Claire worked hard and that was something he had never pushed her on. In fact, Jamie wanted Claire to work. She was a skilled surgeon, and he knew that it was her passion. She was made to heal others. It was the reason he agreed to take on fewer responsibilities at work; he wanted Claire to have the career and family she dreamed of. “Sassenach, ye ken I didna mean what I said.”

“No, just… No.” Claire held up her hand, stopping him from apologizing. She left the kitchen without another word, shutting and locking the bedroom door. Taking some space from Jamie would be good. They had both said harsh things that they didn’t mean, but it didn’t make the words hurt any less. In fact, it hurt more knowing it was said with that exact intention in mind.

____________________________________________________

Jamie looked around the kitchen trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. One minute he was surprising Claire with a relaxing long weekend away with their foster son, the next they were screaming at one another and she was storming out.

He knew he needed to find a way to apologize. He would respect her request for space and then deal with things later. For now, he had a child to feed. Jamie checked on the chicken that was roasting in the oven before grabbing the glass he had been drinking from. He peered around the kitchen before sneaking over to the liquor cabinet, refilling his tumbler. As he went to shut and lock it once again, the glass slipped from his hand and shattered against the white tile.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, the shards flying everywhere. Glancing at his arm, Jamie felt a sting and recognized that one of them must have pierced his skin, the whiskey causing it to burn more than it should have. He set about cleaning up the mess before taking a peek out of the window to see Fergus pressing his curled body against the trunk of the tree. Finding it odd, Jamie excused the behavior as the oven’s timer dinged. He could ask questions later.

Calling the young boy in for dinner, Jamie went to the bedroom and let Claire know their food was ready. He gathered a plate for himself and Fergus, allowing Claire to prepare her own if she chose to join them.

____________________________________________________

Fergus appeared timid as he climbed into his seat, looking between Jamie and the hallway. When Claire came out a short time later, her face clean and hair washed from a recent shower, Fergus noted that her eyes were glassy. He had seen that with his own mother on plenty of occasions. A fresh shower to hide her tears and remove any traces of scratches or odd marks.

His eyes slowly raked over Claire’s body, inspecting her for any cuts or abrasions. He didn’t see any, but she had put on a sweater and some pajama shorts. She could be hiding them beneath her sleeves.

The couple was silent as they ate, directing any questions at Fergus. He answered them easily, though it felt like he was on edge the entire time he ate. His stomach was twisted into knots and he was afraid that he was going to throw up if he forced himself to consume much more.

After a few minutes of tension, Jamie’s face lit up as if he had suddenly remembered something.

“I saw ye outside earlier, by the tree? Was everythin’ alright?” Fergus was trying to remember the moment that Jamie was talking about, but it quickly dawned on him that it was when Claire and Jamie had been arguing, and he had gripped onto the nearest thing. It was something one of the counselors taught him to do when he felt his body start to get nervous: lean against the nearest wall or door, close his eyes, and focus on his breathing. He wished that they gave him ideas that actually helped.

“Oh, I was just playing a game,” Fergus answered lamely, not sure that Jamie would believe the lie. Jamie studied his face for a moment, but didn’t push him on the excuse.

“Fergus, what’s the matter, lad? You gobbled up yer afternoon snack, I expected ye to devour yer meal,” Jamie commented with an arched eyebrow. Fergus peered down at his plate for a moment before spearing a piece of chicken onto his fork.

“I guess I’m just not that hungry. Sorry, Jamie,” he apologized, forcing himself to chew and swallow the small piece on his utensil.

“No need to apologize, lad. Jus’ finish what ye can and we can wrap up the rest.” Dinner was silent after that, Fergus’ ability to eat diminishing with each moment that Jamie and Claire ignored one another. He slunk away from the table toward his bedroom once he was finished, pausing in the hallway to eavesdrop on the adults. He couldn’t hear their exact words, but he knew they were arguing back and forth again. He lost track of how long he was standing in the hallway, their voices muffled by the walls and their movements. It got suddenly silent and he froze. Fergus could feel his pulse throbbing in his ears, heart pounding. He wasn’t sure how to make himself calm down. His breathing came faster as he heard a clattering and bolted toward the kitchen once more. Fergus knew that sound; it was a common occurrence when Adam launched something at his mother.

“Don’t touch her!” he screamed, launching himself at Jamie, his tiny fists curled up and pounding into Jamie’s back before he even knew what was happening.

____________________________________________________

“Are we going to discuss the issue at hand?” Claire asked Jamie coldly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“You ken fine well what ye’re doing, Sassenach. Crossing yer arms over yer chest in that way!” he accused, jabbing his index finger in her direction. She gave a glance down at her chest, a smirk appearing on her lips as she stepped closer to him.

“And what about it? Afraid I’ll convince you to cancel your major rental with my womanly ways?”

“Aye, and I damn well willna be canceling the rental! ‘Tis two months away and that is plenty of time tae get everything in order tae go on a trip!” Jamie was becoming flustered and took a deep breath before placing both of his hands on her upper arms. The only way this was going to get better was if he took the opportunity to apologize. “I hope ye know how verra sorry I am, mo chridhe. I wanted to do something kind. I apologize for what I said earlier. I was sore, ye ken?”

“Aye,” Claire teased as she leaned her forehead into his neck. “I’m sorry, too, Jamie. I didn’t mean what I said. I know you just wanted to give us a nice surprise. It’s a very sweet gesture.”

“Next time I’ll be sure to discuss it wi’ ye before making any grand gestures.” Jamie wrapped his arms around Claire’s waist, lifting her onto the table. Her foot caught around one of the legs of the chair and knocked it to the ground as he leaned forward to give her a kiss. Her lips moved in time with his own, hands settling against his large shoulder blades. Jamie suddenly stopped kissing her, confusion on his features.

“Wh-?” Claire’s question trailed off as she watched Fergus burst into the room. His cheeks were splotchy and his eyes were welled up as he began to punch his fists into Jamie’s thigh and back.

“Whoa!” Jamie exclaimed, grabbing Fergus’ arms to get him to stop hitting him. “What in the devil?!”

“Don’t you dare hit Claire!” Fergus screamed, trying to wrench his body away from Jamie’s. Claire sat on the table, stunned by his outburst. Jamie let out a soft chuckle at first, then let go of Fergus when the boy finally stopped jerking himself around.

“Did ye think I was hurting Claire? Och, no. Only kissin’ my wife,” Jamie explained, letting Fergus look at Claire for confirmation, at which she nodded.

“I knocked over the chair with my foot, that’s all. Jamie would never hurt me.” Claire hopped off of the table to right the chair before taking a seat in it, pulling Fergus close to her. She let him gather his thoughts before lifting him into her lap. “We did fight, yes, but we would never lay a hand on one another other than out of kindness and love. I need you to understand that, Fergus.”

He nodded solemnly, resting one hand on Claire’s arm, the other holding onto her hand. Jamie squatted so that he would be level with Fergus, his knees creaking as he bent.

“I hope ye ken I wouldna ever lay a hand on Claire out of anger or pain. Nor would I lay a hand on ye, lad. ‘Tis important that ye ken I care for ye as my own and wouldna want to see ye in pain.” His words were soft and he lifted a large hand to smooth back Fergus’ curls from his face. The boy looked calmer now and gulped before allowing himself to speak.

“C-can I have a glass of water?” he asked quietly, now feeling silly for his reaction. Jamie noted his expression but nodded, getting him the water as requested.

“I hope ye feel safe here, Fergus. I canna imagine how scared ye were and what ye have seen before,” Jamie spoke soothingly, letting his hands rest on Fergus’ skinny legs. “Claire and I just want to see ye safe and happy.”

“Oh,” Fergus exhaled, his eyes welling up with tears again. “Adam used to… he would fight with my mama and I would hear yelling and banging. I could never stop him.” His shoulders shook as he began to weep, leaning against Claire for comfort.

She looked at Jamie frantically, though her arms automatically wound around his small frame. She had no experience with children and was only hoping that she was doing this right.

“It’s alright, hush now. You have no need to be scared of us. We’re going to keep you safe,” she whispered before remembering she was not supposed to make promises she couldn’t keep. For a moment she felt guilty before another thought popped into her head. Fuck that. Holding Fergus in her arms, his body shaking with fear and tears, Claire knew she would go to the ends of the Earth to protect this small boy from any person or thing that threatened to harm him.

Her own eyelids brimmed with tears as she felt a fierce need to keep him safe and see his tears end. Giving a quick look at Jamie, Claire saw that he had a wide grin on his face. It was the same look he had worn when she graduated with her medical degree and could begin practicing medicine at the hospital. That was his “proud” smile, he had told her later that night when she commented on it. She couldn’t help but smile back at him for a brief moment when she realized that he was smiling like that because he was proud of her maternal instincts.

“It will all be alright. He canna hurt ye anymore,” Jamie whispered before pressing a kiss to both Fergus’ and Claire’s hair. He knew how Claire felt because he felt it as well. He would do anything to protect this little family they had built together.

[eldritchsurveys]

1131.

1 - Were you glad to see the back of 2020? What were the best and worst parts of the year to you? >> I honestly did not care one way or the other. I understand why the ritualistic “good riddance to 2020″ thing works for people, it just doesn’t work for me. In my mind, it really doesn’t matter if it’s 2020 or 2021, just as long as it ain’t fuckin, say, 2009.

2 - If you’ve purchased something you love from a small business, are you likely to leave a review or anything afterwards? Why/why not? >> Yeah, like I just bought a bracelet from an Etsy seller and I left a happy review because I love the product. I never really thought about leaving reviews in the past, but it recently occurred to me that I should probably start doing it for independent sellers like that. This particular seller only had one or two other reviews aside from mine, so you know, it really makes a difference.

3 - When was the last time you received some good news? >> Well, seeing the pending stimulus deposit was good news. It is just enough to pay off the rest of what I owe on my computer, which means I do not have to worry about that anymore. I consider that a great relief, tbh; that $150/mo was no joke.

4 - Does wearing masks cause you to get acne or oily skin on your chin and around your nose? >> Nah. I’d probably have to wear them for much longer periods of time than I usually do for that to start happening.

5 - Do you prefer dogs or cats? Do you have a preferred breed as well? >> Dogs. Pitbulls are my fave breed.

6 - Do you have any plans for the next few days? Are these plans something you’re dreading or looking forward to? >> Mostly I just plan to enjoy having my normal routine back once Sparrow goes back to work (well, until Thursday, because now she’s going to be working from home every Thursday...).

7 - Leggings, jeans, jeggings or sweatpants? >> Sweatpants.

8 - How often do you meet new people? Is this something you’d like to change in any way? >> Not often at all, especially now. I don’t think it needs to be changed right now.

9 - What time did you wake up this morning? Would you rather have slept in longer? >> For the final time, around eight or so. I’m currently in a sleep deficit so I probably could have slept in longer, but I don’t like sleeping in. Maybe I’ll take a nap at some point, maybe not.

10 - What’s your favourite meal of the day? What’s your favourite thing to eat for that meal? >> I guess breakfast, since that’s my most stable and predictable meal most of the time. I almost always have a veggie burger and chips.

11 - When was the last time you visited a zoo or aquarium? What are your favourite animals to see there? >> I think the last time was Labor Day in 2019? The red pandas were pretty novel. I don’t think I have a favourite animal overall, though.

12 - Have you ever bought or sold anything via Facebook? >> No. This just reminded me to check on whether the Buy Nothing group in my city approved my membership, but apparently they did not, and that really confuses me, because... like, I live in the city. Why can’t I join the Buy Nothing group? This sort of thing is so distressing to me, I just... wanted to do a little community participation. :/ 

13 - When was the last time you had to cross a railway line? Was it an automated crossing or a manual one? >> I mean, we cross train tracks whenever we head downtown.

14 - What was the last thing you received as a gift? >> The gift from Sparrow’s parents that was late to arriving, which I got yesterday. It was a wine mulling kit.

15 - Are you a fan of cheese? What are your favourite types? >> I mean, I like cheese. I don’t know if I’d go so far to call myself a fan, though. I like pepper jack, brie, Kerrygold swiss, etc.

16 - What’s your “go-to” hairstyle when you’re feeling lazy or in a rush? >> ---

17 - How do you travel to work or school? Would you rather get there in a different way if you had the choice? >> ---

18 - What was the last activity you did that caused you to be out of breath? >> I don’t remember.

19 - When was the last time you changed your bedsheets? >> About a half hour ago, because they’d just been washed.

20 - What household chore do you hate the most? Are there any you actually enjoy or find satisfying in any way? >> Any “wet” chore -- so, most of the ones in the kitchen and all of the ones in the bathroom. I don’t mind vacuuming/sweeping, dusting, or laundry (I especially like the folding), and I love to tidy up and put things back where they belong.

21 - How much money did you spend the last time you went to the supermarket? >> I, personally, didn’t spend any, but the total grocery bill this weekend was about $170.

22 - How often do you buy fast food or takeaways? What’s your favourite place to get those foods from? >> Not often.

23 - Do you prefer white, brown or granary bread? What other types of bread do you like to eat? >> I’m not sure what granary bread is, but generally I’m not too precious about the type of bread. I’m far more precious about where the bread comes from (locally-made versus mass-produced).

24 - Are you in any kind of pain right now? What’s causing it? >> I wouldn’t say that. I mean, being tired and melancholy can be a bit painful at times, but... yeah.

25 - Can you hear anyone else in your house right now? What are they up to? >> Sparrow is having a shower. IDK what the cat is doing.

26 - Do you find farts funny or gross? >> Neither? They’re completely unremarkable to me, unless someone’s farting a tune or something, which I guess is novel enough.

27 - What are you wearing at the moment? Is anything you’re wearing new? >> Sweats, undershirt, hoodie. My winter uniform. Nothing I’m wearing is new.

28 - Who was the last person you spoke to via social media? Is this a person you’re close to? >> I don’t remember.

29 - Did you ever do surveys on a site other than Tumblr? Do you still take surveys anywhere else? >> Yeah, I was on Xanga for a long time. I had a brief fling with LiveJournal after Xanga went the way it did but ultimately settled on just posting them here.

30 - Are you overweight, underweight or a healthy weight for your height? Are you happy with that or would you like to change it? >> I don’t know which one I am and I’d rather not make a fuss about it.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 73

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle head to the spa to relax, but Tom has been on tenterhooks since the Golden Globes.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom insisted they take the Jag to the hotel, so he was driving and as they pulled in, looking at the building, he turned to Danielle. "This is extravagant."

"I know," She gave a loving smile. "It is supposed to be."

"What did you…?"

"If you dare ask me one more time what I paid, I swear, I will hit you," She threatened. "It is paid, it is done, so stop going on about it."

"It's too much Elle."

"No, it's not, now please, get your arse inside so we can relax."

In the week since his return from LA and the Golden Globes speech debacle, Tom was anything but his usual self. He was not half as good-humoured or indeed enthusiastic for many of his favourite things. He was confirmed to go on the Graham Norton show again at the end of the month as well as to get interviewed for GQ magazine, so all in all, there were things to look forward to, but overall, he seemed less animated in himself; something Danielle noticed and hoped that their two days together at the spa, away from the city, noise and talking would help with. Luke had been informed of what they were doing and agreed it was very much needed, promising to keep everything unimportant from them for a couple of days, as well as ensuring to keep an eye on if they were spotted, but Danielle had chosen the hotel specifically for its reputation. Though she had not intended to come with Tom at first, she wanted him to have peace in his time there, so ensured she chose a place that apparently even British Royals had gone on occasion; if they got privacy there, surely Tom and she would have the same experience.

They checked in swiftly and were brought to their room. As Danielle looked around, she smiled at knowing every penny had been worth it, she collapsed on the bed a few moments after the bellboy left their bags.

"Comfy?"

"Not sure if it is the mattress or the blanket, but something is terribly soft." She responded, sighing contently.

"So I could be in for a bad time with my back then?"

Danielle snorted, "You'd swear you were an old man with the way you talk sometimes." Tom smiled down at her, before joining her on the bed, looking at her pensively. "You okay?"

"I think so, thank you for being so good this week, so patient."

"Just remember, no matter what, no one can take your hard work from you, people have forgotten it already."

"Then how come I haven't?"

"Because you are you, trying to please everyone, trying to see if you can step on no one's toes when in truth, but some people want to be offended, they want to find fault in everything you say and do, based solely on the fact that you are famous, and since you got nervous, they are eating it up," Danielle's heart felt like it was breaking as she looked at Tom's eyes, filled with the hurt of what people that called themselves 'fans' had said about him.

Tom looked at her, "I am so glad you're here."

Danielle leant on her elbow and kissed him. "So am I, now I know you are hungry, I heard your stomach, let's get something in the bar to eat."

"Downstairs?"

"Well, there isn't a restaurant in the room here."

"You want to eat in public?"

"Well, it's not public, but yes, I do."

Tom's eyes lit up for a moment before his face fell again. "Are you doing this because of what happened in LA?"

Again, Danielle snorted, "No, nothing like that, one, I'm hungry and two, it's time we started doing things other than hiding in the house, we are not going to be able to hide this forever, though I doubt here is where it goes public, everything is so quiet and private."

With newfound enthusiasm, Tom went for a quick shower while Danielle cleaned herself up and checked her emails. "Ready?" She turned to look at Tom, "What happened, were we spotted?" He asked worried, noting the odd look on her face.

"No, I was asked to do a reshoot for Game of Thrones."

"When?"

"When that GQ interview is on."

"Isn't that okay though?"

"Yeah, no it's actually good timing since you were saying about doing the interview at the house, this ensures I am not spotted, it's just weird."

"Why?" Tom sat beside her.

"They said they weren't willing to take anyone but me apparently."

"That's a good thing though, isn't it?" Tom asked, "You said it is something you want, your own business, if you have directors and producers from the biggest show on telly demanding you, you are going to be very hot property."

"I suppose, it's just weird, I never thought…I thought I was nothing outstanding you know, just your run of the mill."

Tom cupped her face in his hands, "My Elle was never 'run of the mill', you are incredible." Danielle smiled slightly back at him. "Now, lunch."

"Yes."

The bar of the hotel was comfy and empty except for themselves, so the pair chose the seat by the fire, warm and neatly tucked in a corner as they ate a small enough meal, knowing the dinner that evening would be bigger. As they say drinking their tea afterwards, Tom's brow furrowed. "What's bothering you?"

"How am I going to deal with the Taylor questions for the magazine, or if it comes up on Norton?"

"Be honest, if you want to avoid it, do so, if you want to talk about it, be honest."

"I can hardly say I was going through a bad time."

"No, but you had some fun, didn't you?" Tom looked at her, his discomfort blatant. "Look, Tom, you know how I feel about what happened, but it did happen, and for a long time, you will have the badge of 'Taylor Swift's ex-beau' around your neck, sure even if in five years, you are marrying Hollywood royalty, hell, even if you were marrying actual royalty, you will still have that title, it sticks," Tom's brows furrowed further at that. "But that is not as defining as the papers make it seem, and it does not stop the fact that in a few of those pictures, you were actually enjoying yourself, Rome, you seemed fairly happy, some of the other ones, don't lie, just say there were good times."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"How is saying you had some fun before me hurting me? I had fun for twenty odd years before you."

"Look me in the eye and tell me it doesn't bother you."

"What do you want me to say, Tom, I don’t like some parts of it, no. I get jealous, I get normal pangs of envy, I wish I could just call my pilot and fly wherever in the world I wanted at a moment's notice, I wish people would literally be willing to defend me bitch-slapping a newborn puppy because they think that I am above others, but I am not able to, but you know what, I have something that the PR Princess doesn't have."

"What's that?"

"Tits, sass and you."

"Most women tend to have…"

"Tom, I have seen enough pictures of her to say those are bee stings, not boobs, she has a figure I will never have, she is far thinner than me, partly due to genetics, partly due to the fact I like food, but I got the trade-off of boobs and ass, so I think I have the better deal." Tom's eyes flickered down to her cleavage for a moment, his tongue unconsciously sliding over his bottom lip as he did so, "And going by your actions, you seem to agree some bit too."

"Maybe I do." He smirked.

"Besides, be honest," Tom's smirk fell, he knew whatever Danielle was about to say was going to be something important. "What is her MO? Date 'em, get dumped or dump, whatever way around it is, then write scathing songs about them. Go first, make it that you are all 'oh, we had a great time, it was nice when we had it' so that when Little Miss Bratty decides to get bitchy and catty in her new album, anything she says looks immature, you struck first, you set the tone, and it was a polite mature one."

Tom eyed her carefully, "If you decide to go into PR, Luke will make you partner in fifteen minutes."

"Look, it's all about just getting on with things, you will have this on you for a while, it's like a skunk smell, dealing with these questions is the ketchup bath."

"I don't follow."

"Saw it in a movie, apparently ketchup gets rid of skunk spray smell, anyway, you need to do this Tom, there are going to be questions, and that is something you have to endure, just don't let it get you down, sooner you accept them and move on, the sooner we are fully rid of her and the world focuses on her finding her next victim," Danielle stated.

"What about us?"

"Well, in that time, I was hoping that among the work, promotion tours and general life juggling, you and I would be getting more and more comfortable and perhaps try and throw in a few days away for ourselves in a nice location, photographers hopefully not included, lest I be accosted by Greenpeace trying to put me back in the ocean." Tom looked at her in bemusement, but Danielle just smiled back. "You know some people are going to say it, don't deny it."

"Elle?" She looked and him expectantly. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"All of this, being so understanding."

"Some would argue I am the one with everything to lose here, why wouldn't I be understanding?"

"You're not like that."

"No, yet people will think such things."

"Don't let them eat at you like that."

"It will, I know it will from time to time, I just can't let it show."

"No, you cannot let what they say matter, they are only out to upset you," Tom stated sternly. "Why are you smiling at me like that?"

"Because you cannot see the hypocrisy of your words, you are letting people getting to you at the moment. You are allowing people who have never met you, who will never know the dorky sweet man that loves his mum more than words, who still is protective over his sisters, even though they are both happily married and who nerds out at the idea of the summer listings for the Globe this year, dictate your mood, your happiness, yet you give out to me that I would allow it."

Tom looked at her for another moment with his brows furrowed. "Damn you." Danielle laughed. "You're right."

"I usually am," She winked. "Now, your treatment starts in half an hour, so get your fine ass upstairs so you can be ready."

"What about you?"

"There is a conservatory at the back of the hotel, it looks over the gardens, I am going to get my ass down there with a cup of tea and relax with a nice book." She grinned.

"You're not getting anything done?"

"No, you are, you need to relax, so come on," she rose from her seat.

Notes:

[seven-oomen]

I’m sorry you’re still feeling exhausted.  I hope work wasn’t too terrible today, and that the weekend lets you rest up a bit (if you get normal weekends.  working in retail I try not to assume.)  Also, this is likely to just be a short(-ish) collection of unconnected musings, but I felt like sharing them anyway, and really you should be used to that from me at this point.  XD  So, first off that tree painting is GORGEOUS.  I mean, I tend to be kinda partial to that whole tree silhouette type aesthetic, so I’m probably slightly biased.  But still.  (And the background shading… <3 )  Also, ngl, the backlit keyboard keeps making me think of that video of Henry Cavill assembling his new computer that’s making the rounds.  That is not meant as a complaint of any sort, mind you, merely an observation.

Speaking of hot scruffy dudes who are actually massive dorks, did you SEE Ian’s most recent Insta pic?!  (the non-cowboy hat one)  Omg, I don’t know why he keeps complaining about how it’s starting to look like TW Season One hair like it’s some sort of bad thing.  (The longer the hair, the better the grip you can get. […uh…wait, what?… ’>.> ])  That pic just screams OUAT sequel to me.  Out here looking all shaggy and windblown and peaceful and content.  Proud Alpha Dad Peter spending quality time with his family/pack.  How very dare he spring this on an unsuspecting public with no warning?  I was not prepared.  (Also, Sinqua and Holland commenting on it just ups the adorable factor that much more.)

Also, was looking at a few sites lately in consideration of ordering a few more masks for work, found this print on one of them and almost laughed myself absolutely stupid.  I don’t know why it was just so funny to me, but I hope it cheers you as much as it did me.  Btw, it’s available on an impressive variety of items, including two types of notebooks, t-shirts, mugs, blankets, pillows, beach towels, shower curtains, rugs, bath mats, several styles of bags, phone cases, and assorted types of wall art (sadly not on a mask, however.  I was deeply disappointed.)  I can see any number of items ending up in the Haleargentski household, bought by assorted non-wolf members for assorted wolf members, because they are a family of assholes.  (I feel like the first gift was a travel mug to Peter from his darling husbands, then a t-shirt [on black ofc] from Peter to Derek, and then it just all snowballed from there.)

Today’s literally-just-appeared-out-of-nowhere-wtf-brain thought is (much like the French maid thing) definitely of the nsfw variety, so consider yourself duly warned if you have a shift today.  Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun?  There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too.  Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."  And I was just like "not sure what this has to do with this video of how to make a ukelele out of colored pencils, but continue."  But like, no really.  Peter being knotted in one of them while the other uses beads or a (vibrating) plug on him?  (Which one is the asshole who momentarily turns the vibration up high enough that they BOTH can feel it?)  Or using those, or some kind of prostate massager, while he’s tied up and watching them with each other?  Bonus points in that situation for anything remote controlled.  See just how good his control really is.  Equal opportunity toy usage is what I’m saying, basically.

Also had a thought inspired by a pregnant friend and her fiance raving about a local pizza place’s monthly special, which is a pickle pizza (no really).  I may or may not have asked her if she had it with ice cream (I totally did, but apparently she’s past that point.)  So I was wondering about any weird or specific cravings the boys have while pregnant.  I remember Chris having a thing about chocolate pudding in the flashbacks.  Was it only a certain type of pudding, or would any kind do?  Were there any others he had?  Did he have the same ones with Ben or different?  What about Noah?  What sort of cravings did he get, if any?  And did they vary between sets of twins?  Did anybody go the aforementioned pickles and ice cream route?  Anybody dipping fries in Nutella?  Onion straws in peanut butter?  Doritos in cottage cheese?  Anybody eat salsa straight out of the jar?  Did anybody get any sudden absolute need for a specific fast food at two in the morning?  Or suddenly want a type of snack food only carried at one truck stop halfway past the next town?  Anybody spend several days eating nothing but veggie trays, including ones they normally can’t stand?  Anybody develop a temporary aversion to certain things, like coffee (feels like it would be a terrible thing for either of them)?  Did Peter cater to their every whim in any and all of these situations?  (I already know that answer.)  Did either one ever get demanding about it, or did they go the more passively-wistful-won’t-stop-mentioning-it route?  Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability?  (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Uh…I think that was the last of the random swirling questions/musings/headcanons for now…  I hope you feel a bit better today, and that the time off (I think you mentioned some time off?) is helpful.  Enjoy your time with your friend (that was this weekend, right?).  If you’ve got ideas for writing stuff, but are having trouble getting them down, would making quick notes/reminders, or voice recordings, for later help?  Like, so you don’t worry about losing them, but aren’t forcing yourself to do something you don’t feel up for at the time?  Either way, congrats on keeping up with the journaling (and the pretty, pretty art), and I hope tracking everything proves helpful.  And remember, other people’s bullshit issues and hang-ups are in no way your fault (no matter what they try to tell you), and you deserve all the good things.  Take care!  *Hugs to both of you!* 

Yeah, honestly I think I hit that point in my life again where my battery is drained and I can’t restart it. Which is how I got my burn out at first and working towards another one. Heh but I also don’t want to give up now and just keep working for a little longer because my contract expires at the end of September and yeah.. 

Stress.

Aww gosh thank you, yeah I really like how that one turned out! It was better than expected.

Btw if you’re into Zombie apocalypse stories (I am) you should definitely check out The girl with all the gifts. It’s so brutal but also interesting, I definitely enjoyed that. (And it was research for my own book)

Lol I love this keyboard and this laptop, really, it was the most expensive thing I ever bought but it’s so worth it. Still runs super smooth after 2 years. I don’t think I’ve seen that video of Henry though. 

And omg yes I did and it’s the best thing. he looks so SOFT omg. I def got  OUAT S2 vibes from that. And OUAT vibes. Also that pic of him with Colton, omg. Those were the best!

THAT PRINT!!!! I nearly snorted coffee out of my nose this morning but managed to swallow it down just in time. My work computer would have suffered caffeine damage otherwise XD.

But yeah, that becomes a running gag for sure!

Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun?  There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too.  Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."

*cheff’s kiss* 

Yes.

Oh the images are so good. Remind me to write them out in detail tomorrow after the zoo trip.

Also parking the pregnancy cravings to answer tomorrow since it’s past midnight and I should catch some sleep before I need to be up again. But I will definitely type that HC out.

Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability?  (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Ohhh Debbie’s toast. Because yes, Noah’s magic is that much stronger when it’s fueled by pregnancy hormones and Chris turns into a very protective hormonal fighting machine. Low center of gravity has advantages when you’re in a squabble with the Karens.

And yeah, I have four days off right now. Which means I don’t have to work until Thursday again. Which is awesome!

But yeah work wasn’t too bad, I had to do one bad news conversation which fucking sucked since there was nothing I could do and nobody I could get a hold off to fix the problem for that customer and it was just a waiting game. I hate those conversations. I honestly do.

Most of it was quiet though and I got to leave an hour earlier due to the quiet day. So that was good. And I watched a movie while being paid (The girl with all the gifts) so that was pretty fun too XD

I actually voice record a lot already. I find it really helps with clearing my mind and I write a lot of stuff down. But I appreciate the tip!

Lots of cuddles from me and Mo and I hope your day went by well. <3

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 3 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Thank you for the positive feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, and tags so far!  This chapter is kinda sorta filler (3000 words worth...) but, you know...whatevs.

Bee hoped what she was wearing was okay.  She almost wanted to cancel when Morgan told her to meet him at the corner of Spadina and King Street West, where they would walk to the place together.  King West was swanky.  There were a lot of trendy shops and restaurants, and a steady flow of cool bars kept popping up all the time.  It was beyond Bee’s comfort zone.  She loved walking down there, and she loved the old architecture and the facades of the buildings…but to actually go in to one of them?  No.  Those types of places weren’t meant for her.

But she didn’t cancel.  She didn’t cancel because Morgan only told her about an hour before where to meet him, and it would have been exceptionally rude.  She didn’t cancel because, yet again, Angie – still in Kingston – threatened to come back to Toronto and force her to go.

She didn’t cancel because she really wanted to see Morgan.  

As she approached the intersection, Bee could see Morgan leaning against the side of a building, looking down at his phone.  She had walked from her place all the way down Spadina, and she thanked God there was a cool breeze out or else she probably would have been a sweating mess.  As if on cue, he looked up from his phone to see her walking, and gave her a little wave, pushing himself off the wall and shoving his phone into his pocket.  

He pulled her in for a quick hug when she was close enough, his hands lingering a bit on her hips.  “You look great,” he looked her in the eye as she said it.  

She knew her pants were tugging on her hips.  And she knew her top was a bit too big and her shoes were old and her bag had seen better days but apparently that didn’t matter.  She smiled at the compliment.  He was wearing a pair of grey slacks, a short-sleeve button down, and his ever-present baseball cap.  The sight of his biceps made her knees weak.  “Ready to go?  Where’s the restaurant?” she asked.

“Have you ever been to Cibo?”

She gulped.  Cibo was one of the best wine bars in the city.  “Nope.”

His hand slipped quickly from her hip to hold her hand, and she could have sworn her heart fluttered at the contact. ��God, he had to know what he was doing.  “Then let’s go.  You’re gonna love it.”

They arrived at the restaurant still hand in hand.  As it was a Friday evening, it was packed with people.  There were diners everywhere, and there was a group of people waiting inside as well as a line up outside the doors.  It was busy.  As Bee slowed down to entire the end of the line, Morgan tugged her inside.  She looked around to make sure nobody was giving them a dirty look.  ‘We aren’t cutting’ she wanted to tell everyone.  ‘I have no idea what he’s doing, but we’re not cutting!’

“It’s currently a 45 minute wait for a table,” the beautiful blonde hostess said to Morgan and Bee as they approached her – no hello, no formalities, just the time.  “We can write down your name if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary.  We have reservations,” Morgan said.  “Und --”

“Cibo doesn’t take reservations on Friday nights,” she interrupted.

Morgan gave her a look for being rude.  “Well someone here took my booking.  It’s under the name Morgan.”

“Take a seat,” she nodded towards the benches where some people were waiting.  

“But we have --”

“Morgan, it’s okay,” Bee felt the need to intervene.  She shook his hand, which was still holding on to hers, to get his attention.  “It’s okay.  We can wait for a bit, and if it’s too long we can just find somewhere else.”

After twenty minutes of waiting, Morgan was becoming increasingly impatient.  He probably would have approached the hostess again, but Bee kept telling him not to say anything, that it’s okay, that they’d eventually get a table.  He wasn’t so sure.  He needed this night to go well, and right now, it was a disaster.  When she went to the washroom, he finally took his chance.  

He approached the hostess once more, trying to remain calm.  “Excuse me…we have reservations.  We shouldn’t be waiting this long for a table.”

“It’s Friday night, sir.  Cibo gets busy.  And like I said, we don’t take reservations on Fridays.”

He took a quick look around to make sure Bee wasn’t coming back from the washroom.  He absolutely hated doing this, but he knew he needed to in order to salvage the night.  “Listen, Ben usually works Friday nights, right?  Tell him Morgan Rielly is here.”

He could see the girl roll her eyes.  “Morgan O’Reilly?”

“No no, just Rielly.  Mor-gan Rie-lly,” he said slower.

He watched as she picked up the receiver, pressed a button, and waited for someone to answer on the other end.  She barely batted an eyelash when she finally said, “Hey Ben – I’m supposed to tell you Morgan Rielly has been here for twenty minutes.”  Her tone was very sarcastic and dry.  Something was clearly said because she straightened up her back and hung up the phone.  “He’s on his way out,” she said quickly.  

“Great, thank you.”

As if on cue, he watched as Bee exited the washroom and Ben – the manager that usually handled the boys whenever they wanted to discreetly come in – whip around the bend and start walking towards the front reception.  When Bee noticed Morgan still at the front, she pursed her lips slightly.  “Still no table?”

“It’s coming,” Morgan nodded his head towards Ben, making Bee turn around.

“Mo!  How the fuck are you?” Ben’s voice bellowed over the mass of people congregated in the restaurant.  He and Morgan shook hands and bumped chests before he continued.  “You’re back in town early!  You got Matts with you?”

“No no.  It’s Briony’s first time at Cibo,” Morgan said, placing his hand on the small of her back.  

“Let me bring you to your usual right away,” Ben said.  “Apologies about the wait.”

Morgan’s hand slipped to hold Bee’s as they made their way through the restaurant until Ben brought them to a booth at near the back corner.  They sat down across from each other and were promptly handed the food and wine menus before Ben told them their server would be there shortly.  He patted Mo on the back before leaving.  Bee wondered if he came here a lot.

“Do you know what any of this means?” Bee mused as she looked through the wine menu.  She wasn’t a complete idiot – she obviously knew there were different types of wines, and they came from different regions around the world, but she could never taste the difference between a cabernet sauvignon, a merlot, a chardonnay, or anything else that was put in front of her.  People who did kind of freaked her out, only because it meant they had so much time on their hands that they could actually think about this sort of stuff.  Ah yes, I can smell the oak.  The taste of the cranberry is very pert.  Like, no you can’t.  All wine tasted the same to her.  It was all good.  

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan said, giving her a weird look.  “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t.”

“So you can order for me, then?”

“Do you trust me?” he smirked.

It was a loaded question, sure, and there was a definite double entendre in the question and the way that he asked it (at least Bee thought so).  She knew everything was still new, and fresh, and she knew that it had only been a small amount of time since meeting him, but Morgan had never given her any reason not to trust him.  Was it perhaps a bit foolish on her part to trust him?  Maybe.  But right now, she did.  And she didn’t feel queasy about it.

Wait – they were talking about wine, right?

“I trust you,” she said, smiling back at him.  “I know nothing about wine.”

“You wanna get something to munch on?”

Bee hesitated.  She was already going to be forking out what looked like $15 for the cheapest, smallest amount of wine.  She never factored in that there was going to be food in this.  Morgan only said drinks.  “It’s okay,” she shook her head.

“Are you sure?”

She sighed.  “I um…I don’t mean to sound cheap but I can’t afford to eat out right now, so I’m gonna have to pass.  You can get something though.  I don’t mind.”

“Wait, what do you mean you can’t you afford it right now?”

She cringed.  “Because I’m a starving Master’s student, Morgan.”

“Briony.”

She couldn’t meet his eye, especially after her name rolled off his lips like that.  How could she?  Here was a guy who was taking her out on a date to an expensive wine bar and here she was, getting by on the littlest amounts.  “Listen, I’m basically living off of multiple scholarships right now.  I don’t exactly have the funds to eat out at fancy places like this,” she explained.  

Morgan looked at her as if she had three heads.  “Do you honestly think I would bring you to a place like this, on a date, knowing you’re a university student that’s been supporting yourself for years, and not pick up the tab?”

Bee felt tears lining her eyes for some reason.  “It’s not…it’s not about that,” she said, shaking her head, trying her hardest not to let her voice crack.  “It’s…”

“Briony, come on.  Why are you so nervous?”

He just had to use her full name again.  Had to.  “I’m not used to this.”

“You --”

“I hardly ever go out.  Because I can’t afford it.  And when I do go out, it’s definitely not to places like this.  We’re talking five dollar pitchers at the Green Room, not bottles of wine from Italy or Napa Valley.”

“Then --”

“And for that matter, I like to cook.  It’s like…I don’t know, my hobby.  I try to prep and make everything at home because it’s cheaper.  That way I’m not tempted to spend my money on food.  I know not a lot of people do that anymore but it’s how I survived growing up so I’m just used to it.”

“Then ignore everything else.  Ignore everything around you.  It’s just me.”  There was a moment of silence as Bee considered the words, and Morgan took the opportunity to reach across the table and grab her hand, clasping it tenderly.  “It’s just me, Briony.”

She nodded her head.  She knew that.  And he made it so simple.  There didn’t have to be all the bells and whistles.  She could ignore it.  For now, it was just Bee and Morgan.  “Do you mind letting me know about the wine a bit, then?”

He obliged readily.  For someone who worked in the sports industry, he sure knew a lot about wine, and he definitely knew what he liked.  The regions in Italy, the regions in France, his preferences which tended towards wines from Napa Valley – Bee clearly needed to re-evaluate what type of people liked wine and how much time Morgan had readily available to him.  She absorbed the information as much as possible, but she knew she would forget most of it after they left.

Soon enough, a professionally dressed waitress approached their table to take their order.  “What would you two like?”

“We’re gonna get the cabernet sauvignon…Pine Ridge from Napa Valley,” Morgan told the waitress.  Bee quickly scanned the menu to see the bottle was a whopping $120.  “And we’ll get the carpaccio, the bruschetta, the fromaggi platter, and some bread please.”  Bee’s eyes scanned the menu again, quickly adding up the prices of the platters.  She gulped.  “Thank you.”

All they did was talk.  They talked and talked and talked, and when the wine came out, and Bee took her first sip, it was good, and so she drank and they talked some more, and when the food came out, she ate some cheeses, and it was really good, and so she ate and they talked some more, and when the carpaccio and the bread came she paired all three together and it was heavenly, and so she enjoyed the food and wine and they talked even more.  Neither of them could stop talking.  Morgan revealed more about himself – how he grew up in West Vancouver, how he had an older brother, how his dad owned a lumber company and his mom owned a medical research company.  How happy his childhood was.  How he’d get up early to play hockey with his dad.  How he played at the country club (yes…a damn country club) growing up.  Bee didn’t think she’d ever met someone who was actually a member of a country club.  She couldn’t help but wonder what that was like.  

By the end of the night Bee was sure she had half a bottle of wine flowing through her veins.  She was by no means drunk, but she was definitely warm and fuzzy.  Definitely happy.  So when Morgan paid the bill and his hands wandered to her hips and the small of her back again as they walked out of the restaurant, she didn’t mind.  Actually, she wanted them to stay there.  And when he suggested he walk her home – the whole 45-minute walk home back up to the Annex, she could only nod her head and slip her hand into his as they walked up Spadina.  

He mentioned how he was going back to Vancouver for two weeks.  It was to see his parents, he said.  He hadn’t seen them in a while.  And his brother, of course.  And his beautiful golden lab, Maggie, his girl, that took up a majority of the camera roll on his phone.  Bee never had any pets growing up – they obviously couldn’t afford it.  But Bee promised herself that the second she could have enough disposable income she would get a pet.  Adopt a cat from the Humane Society or something.  

As they finally hit Bloor Street, Bee began to get nervous.  She started asking him if he’d ever been walking in the Annex (he had not) and if he’d ever want to (he did).  She noticed he slowed down his walking, and truth be told, she did too.  But the realization only made her more nervous.  And when she got nervous, she didn’t shut up.  It was a curse.  Just like her rambling about books, she was now rambling about the Annex.  She honestly couldn’t stop.  

“We’re coming up on mine now,” she said, nodding her head towards the house where her apartment was.

It was a massive house – one of the traditional Annex mansions that lined the streets and that people in Toronto paid millions upon millions for – but it looked older than some of the others in the neighbourhood that had been lovingly restored.  It wasn’t dilapidated by any means, but Morgan could tell that not a lot of care had gone in to maintaining the place – a shame, really, since these houses were relics of a bygone era.  They didn’t build houses like this anymore. 

Morgan tried to imagine Bee living here.  He tried to imagine her coming home from classes everyday, or her leaving with reusable grocery bags to do her weekly shop.  He tried to imagine her apartment.  Did she have a desk against the big bay window?  Was she on the main or second floor?  Was there still an original, working fireplace?  Did she use it?  But the more he tried to think, the more his thoughts were drowned out by her rambling voice.  What was she talking about?  At this point, he had no clue, but she was being so cute and he knew she did this all the time when she got nervous and, well, he was nervous too, because all he had wanted to do when he saw her at the beginning of their date was kiss her.  

She walked him through the gate and on to the front porch, but she wouldn’t quiet down.  “There’s, like, five apartments in here,” she said, looking up at the house.  “On the main floor there’s mine and the one in the back – it’s the same on the second floor obviously – and then there’s a small apartment on the third floor too.  The basement just has some storage rooms – laundry too, obviously – and, like, the furnace room…nothing special,” she babbled.  

He leaned in, needing her to stay silent for just a moment so he could collect his thoughts.  “Briony?” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Oh!”  She loved that he asked permission, but she was stupid.  She was so, so stupid.  “Of course.”

Morgan kissed Bee the way she had always wanted to be kissed: soft at first, with a gentleness that could deceive you, but with a streak desire that exuded like a flame.  As she was a willing participant and readily reciprocating, he continued to kiss her, his hands wandering to her waist and down her hips, settling on the small of her back before pulling her body closer to his.  

It turned into a full-blown make-out session before Bee had to stop for air.  Morgan’s eyes remained closed as she tried to catch her breath.  

It was late.  He had a plane to catch tomorrow morning to go home.

“Have fun in Vancouver,” she whispered, moving to unlock the front door.

Morgan’s eyes shot open.  “What?”

“Goodnight,” she smiled.

“Nonononono,” he pulled her back against him, giving her another kiss.  She reciprocated again, but pulled away quicker than Morgan liked.  

“You have an early flight tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

“Goodnight,” she smiled, pushing the door in.

“Briony.”

“Goodnight.”

“Briony!”

As she shut the door, he chuckled to himself.  This was going to be a long trip back to Vancouver.

[white-rose-week]

White Rose Week 2019: That Day on the Airship - Prologue & Chapter 1

Hello there, and welcome to the start of my White Rose Week 2019 collection. I’ve never actually written a fanfic before, so this is going to be an adventure in more ways than one. In fact, I wasn’t even planning on participating in White Rose week until June 10th had already started. I became possessed by inexplicable urge and inspiration, so here we are. I’m in the process of creating an AO3 and FF accounts and will post these stories there once they are active. For today, this blog will be exclusively hosting my debut, provided that the kind curator deems it worth posting, of course.

I’ve decided to write my stories as a continuous set of interactions between Ruby and Weiss while on the airship en route to Atlas at the end of Volume 6, occurring before the final scene such that they can fit into the continuity as an alternate timeline regardless of where Volume 7 begins. I will be using both the audience and admin prompts to guide my writing of a single chapter each day, plus a prologue added to set the stage. I hope you enjoy!

—–

“That Day on the Airship”

by Simphonyc

—–

Prologue:

Ruby looked out the window of the airship with quiet relief as city of Argus and the one-armed robot stomping around its shoreline continued to shrink from view. The tiniest of sighs escaped her lips as the day’s events flashed through her mind. She remained fixated on the horizon, consumed by the need to know that the city was still safe for as long as she possibly could.

Just as the last skyscraper faded from the horizon, she found herself imagining a second Leviathan emerging from the sea where the first one had been slain. They had barely managed to survive one of the colossal Grimm, what if another was nearby, drawn to the fear and horror that had been flowing from the densely populated city only an hour earlier? What if Salem’s forces had planned the Leviathan’s appearance? What if it was just the vanguard, preceding a larger attack force? What if this had all been a setup? What if there was something bigger at play? What if there was something she’d overlooked?! What if—

“Ruby.”

She felt a hand fall gently on her shoulder as the unusually gentle voice of her partner reached her ears, scattering the horrible images from her mind. Ruby turned to see concerned blue eyes staring at her. Weiss held her gaze for a moment before resuming. “You sounded like you were on the verge of hyperventilating. Are you ok?” Weiss tightened her grip on Ruby’s shoulder almost imperceptibly as she spoke, actively monitoring her own breathing to ensure Ruby’s anxiety didn’t transfer to her. Weiss recently noticed that she had become remarkably sensitive to Ruby’s mood, to the point where more extreme emotions felt by the redhead would occasionally cause an active shift in her own. She felt a tenuous empathetic link to Yang and Blake as well, but the bond she’d developed with Ruby was stronger. It was the first time she’d felt a connection of that magnitude with anyone.

A hesitant smile flashed on Ruby’s face for a moment before vanishing again, too exhausted to feign emotions. “Y-yeah… Sort of… I… imagined Argus being attacked a second time and one thought led to another. It’s… it’s been a long day.” Ruby conceded as she let out another, heavier sigh.

Weiss nodded sympathetically as she slid her hand down to Ruby’s, holding it like a piece of glasswork. “It has… It really, really has…” she whispered, carefully tugging Ruby downward so the two of them could continue their conversation sitting. She had to ensure that Ruby couldn’t look outside again. She repositioned herself so her back was against the airship’s wall; her left side inches away from Ruby’s right.

Looking past Ruby, she saw Blake and Yang in a similar position, but even closer. Leaning against each other, passed out. She and Ruby hadn’t gotten all the details just yet, though they had gotten enough to know that their teammates had survived an encounter before the Leviathan had surfaced that would have left most professional huntresses physically and mentally drained.

Returning her attention to Ruby, Weiss didn’t need an empathetic link to know that her friend’s tension was fading, it was more than apparent in her posture. It was only then Weiss she realized just how heavy her eyelids were. “It’s only mid-afternoon, but I’m exhausted. I wonder if there’s a coffee machine onboard…” she mused.

��Oh my gosh, coffee would be amaaazing right now.” Ruby said, smiling hopefully, an expression Weiss unconsciously mirrored.

As long as Ruby was smiling, genuinely smiling, nothing else mattered to her.

—–

Chapter 1:

Audience Prompt: “First”

Admin Prompt: “Coffee”

Weiss continued to gaze at Ruby for only a split second longer before perking up as something occurred to her. “Actually…” She furrowed her brow as she glanced around the Atlesian aircraft. After a moment, she stood and began walking towards a door on the opposite side of the ship, pulling Ruby up with her. The idea of letting go of the girl’s hand was unthinkable. She was going to investigate, and she wasn’t about to leave Ruby alone, so her partner would have to join her, that’s all there was to it.

“The trip from Argus to Mantle is lengthy, and there’s no land between the two unless you take a significant detour by stopping in Vytal, which means the pilots must regularly have meals onboard, so there should be a place to store and prepare food…” Weiss reasoned aloud as they crossed the ship. “…And goodness knows more pilots drink coffee than not, so odds are…” She arrived at the door and pulled it open to reveal a small room with cabinets, a miniature refrigerator, a microwave, and nestled in the corner, a simple coffee maker.

Weiss barely had the time to smirk triumphantly before Ruby’s arms were around her. “Ohmygosh, Weiss, that was amazing!” She praised her partner with the same admiration she’d used when they successfully did their Ice Flower combat maneuver for the first time. Her silver eyes sparkled with joy as she took the lead, dragging Weiss into the kitchenette and rapidly opening each of the cabinets to inspect their contents.

“Bread. Granola bars. Canned soup. AH!! FOUND IT!!!” She squealed with delight as she pulled out a box of instant coffee packets. “There’s cream and sugar too!” She spun around, arms filled, to see Weiss looking at her with a quiet smile. There was something unique about that smile. Something that was just so very… Weiss. Calm yet assuring, muted yet earnest, and stunningly beautiful. Her smile was so enchanting that it took Ruby a few seconds to process that Weiss was holding a small box out to her.

Ruby audibly gasped. “Dust Scout cookies?! Atlas airships are the best! Open’em up open’em up! We’ll have some while we wait for the coffee!” Ruby bounced excitedly.

Weiss simply let out an amused giggle as she swapped her box with her partner’s. “You can start on the cookies, I’ll make the coffee.” She said as she plucked a mug from one of the cabinets and used it to fill the coffee maker with water. “Do you still take yours with cream and five sugars?” She inquired nonchalantly as she placed the empty ceramic cup beneath the machine’s spout. Ruby, who was already eating a cookie looked at Weiss in awe before hastily gulping it down.

“You remembered?!” She asked in soft disbelief.

“Of course I did.” Weiss responded modestly as she pushed a button on the coffee maker.

“But you haven’t made coffee for me since… well, since the first time you made coffee for me, which was, like, our first month at Beacon. Wow, that feels even longer ago than it actually is…” Ruby’s voice trailed off, but her smile remained.

“It was a memorable night… and a memorable cup of coffee. It was my first, and so far only time using Myrtenaster as a cooking tool.” Weiss recalled with an uncharacteristically wistful tone.

“Wait, what?!” Ruby stared in utter confusion.

“Well, we didn’t have a coffee maker in our dorm room, remember? And you were up studying long after the student lounge had closed, so I went to the bathroom, filled the mug, and then used fire dust to turn Myrtenaster into a makeshift heating rod before adding the coffee, cream, and sugar.” A faint blush reached Weiss face as she confessed to the undignified act she’d committed in her haste to impress her partner. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t keep herself from smiling at the memory.

“Aww, I can’t believe you did that for me!” Ruby said as she took Weiss’ hand and placed a stack of three cookies into it. “Seriously, I know you were trying to apologize that night, but you were still totally in your ice-queen-y phase. Using Myrtenaster like that… It means a lot to me.” She bashfully shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“I’d actually planned on doing it again if the coffee maker here was broken.” Weiss said, turning to the device that had just finished dispensing dark, fragrant liquid.

Ruby watched as her partner carefully poured her preferred combination of sweeteners into the mug and swirled it around with a plastic spoon, appreciating the care that was apparent in every movement. She silently accepted the mug, feeling its warmth radiating into her hands as Weiss prepared a cup for herself.

The two shared the first truly peaceful moment they’d had all day. For a moment, there were no Grimm, no relics, and no Salem, just each other and the pleasant aroma of coffee.

“Weiss, You’re the best teammate ever.”

Ruby’s voice was sincere, and while she truly meant what she said, she felt a twinge of sadness. She wasn’t sad because of anything that Weiss had done, or even anything that she herself had done, she was sad because the words felt incomplete. In Ruby’s mind, Weiss had transcended being a teammate some time ago, and after the peril they’d overcome in the past several hours, leaving things unsaid no longer felt like an option. Weiss was beauty, grace, and strength incarnate, and more importantly, Weiss was her best friend. Ruby couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her for another day, let alone the concept of reliving those agonizing months they spent half a world apart. She couldn’t do that again.

Mere feet away, Ruby’s words hit Weiss with an unexpected amount of weight. She felt validated, the pledge she’d made to Ruby all those nights ago in their dorm room had been fulfilled. And yet, it felt entirely inadequate. Ruby’s words weren’t inadequate. Those had value beyond anything the Schnee fortune could ever buy. What was inadequate was her own mediocre commitment to Ruby. Someone as incredible as Ruby deserved more than just the best teammate ever. Ruby deserved everything had to give, nothing less was acceptable. Weiss needed to give more to her. Weiss needed to be more to her.

Silver eyes met blue, and the two spoke in unison.

“Weiss–.”

“Ruby–.”

—–

To be continued in Chapter 2

[internetremix]

Just curious, but what are the Murder Gods feelings on each of the Awakened currently?

I wrote a very long thing a few months ago explaining MG’s feeling and thoughts toward the Awakened.I guess things have changed though, so let’s go through what we’ve got.

Vincent still gets the lion’s share of Murder God’s attention for better or worse. Mostly worse. She started this game as a contest between the two of them and in her mind he is the main character of her story. But this character is surprising her and as time goes on she views him more as a person with his own wants and desires. Basically she respects him as... well, not an equal, but a worthy opponent. She’s starting to just ignore his refusal to play along- that’s a losing battle and she has better things to focus on, so it’s become a minor annoyance at best. She’s been surprised every time she’s shown up in the Lounge and he’s made her a drink- as I stated before, since she views him as a person a part of her longs for validation from him, but this minor kindness is still... she wants that very badly but just because she wanted it doesn’t mean she isn’t very surprised when it happens. She wants validation and love but she’s so unused to receiving it that it flabbergasts her when it happens.

Outside of Vincent, MG still views the Awakened as pawns. She cannot feel anything and she is compelled to do her part as the writer and she cannot comprehend why these pawns have wants or needs outside of the story. But that view is starting to shift a bit. She’s not stupid- well okay, she is a little bit, but by now the writing on the wall is pretty clear: Things will not go as she plans and these pawns apparently have their own wants and desires... perhaps they too are “people”. As such she needs to adjust her approach- this is no longer about setting up a path for characters to follow, this is a battle between a God and several uppity humans. Maybe. She’s not quite willing to drop the idea that they’re all pawns just yet because that also calls into question her own shaky self-perception.Then there’s the times where they push back. She still largely views this as unfair, and she’ll still stomp her feet and get mad and be very upset when she’s hurt. But also a small part of her can admit the Awakened are not entirely wrong- she gave a whole speech about Rules and Consequences, and she continually gets upset when she’s the one facing consequences. She can grudgingly admit she hasn’t been fair- she reacts in anger and she can try to justify it, but at the end of the day a story doesn’t work if she’s always getting away scott free. So you’ll note she didn’t retaliate when Vincent shot her, which is a... minor bit of growth, but she’s still very stubbornly sticking to that childish, self-centered “this is only fun when it works in my favor” mindset since, again, the satisfaction she gets from these games is... really all she has. Why shouldn’t she take that? She has to fulfill her role as the antagonist, she may as well have some satisfaction! Plus, change for her is... nearly impossible. The Void is stasis, after all... isn’t it?

Her feelings on McGillicutty are pretty much the same. Fuck that guy and the mean things he says about her, how dare. But there IS potential in how she can use him to fuck with the other Awakened...

It’s interesting to Murder God that Grace has focused on this rules aspect and actually does well to stick to these rules, even seemingly agreeing with certain consequences. This has garnered a minor amount of respect from Murder God, though she would never admit it. She also finds the sheer level of emotion Grace feels toward McGillicutty to be mildly baffling- “why are you so pleased that he’s not a murderer? He clearly doesn’t actually care about any of you, because he doesn’t care about anything anymore?? Why do you care about him?? Listen he’s an asshole and you all seem to like him, why is it when he doesn’t care about people it’s okay but when I do my damn job everyone acts like I’m the villain, what the fuck!?”Tommy is just annoying now with his sass. How dare he bring up the titles thing? Listen, he is a pawn, who does he think he is, getting all uppity like that? Why does he care about not getting to talk during the backstory stuff? What, does he think he’s going to contribute? Basically MG is annoyed that this pawn thinks he actually has a place in all this.Friendship ended with Percy Blackwood. Sure, he was a toy to her, and pretty much her favorite toy, but he was also more than that. Really he was basically a son to her. Murder God felt like with Percy for the first time in eons she finally had someone to connect with. Someone who, like her, was an artist and could find beauty in the Void. Someone who she could show worlds to, someone who was happy to be around her. She actually opened up a bit with him and she did everything she could to make him happy, but in the end he still chose to go against her. Losing Percy was not just losing a game piece for her. She is very, very hurt by that and she does not forgive easily, if ever. So yeah, she’s gonna keep throwing shade for some time- it doesn’t matter to her that he still maintains a positive outlook, it doesn’t matter that clearly he still has affection for her, he still threw her gifts in her face. So Percy is now her very disappointing trash child, yep.Christine Forks. Hoo boy. So originally Murder God had a thing for Christine. Christine has some anger issues, obviously, and Murder God has a... very concerning attraction to anger. So she adored Christine and wanted to do everything in her power to make Christine happy- and so she followed the only line that makes sense to Murder God, which is violence. But then Christine woke up the second time, and abruptly... didn’t want violence anymore. Which left Murder God very, very confused, because here she made what she’d been told was Christine’s favorite food only to find Christine didn’t want it. So she kept trying to give Christine the original plan and was more confused when Christine didn’t want it. Murder God does not change, nothing in the Void changes, and in her mind humans do not change... so if Christine wanted to change? Well, that didn’t make any sense!Not only did Christine want to change, she also kept lashing out at Murder God, who in her mind had only been trying to help. So naturally after some time Murder God switched back to her usual MO- the INTENT had been to continue the whole “stay here because it’s nice” charade, but Christine kept hurting her and this whole mess quickly became very personal. So Murder God... basically proceeded to not handle their breakup well and lashed out, like usual. This anger is unlikely to simmer down any time soon. Percy is Murder God’s disappointing son and Christine is now an ex. How fucking dare. She has no choice but to acknowledge Christine as a person as opposed to a pawn because of how strongly Christine fought off that label, and Murder God is not pleased with it. So yeah, friendship ended with Christine Forks.Junior is an... interesting case. Murder God was proud of him for a time- he was doing very good work for her and was a very devout follower. Essentially a son. But then, of course, he stopped and ran away. Which is of course a betrayal, which Murder God does not take well. Still, she was summoned by his strong desire, so perhaps there was hope there that he’d turn to her again. Plus she had Christine’s wish already, so this conveniently worked out. So the plan was to punish him for awhile in accordance with Christine’s wishes, then try to bring him back into the fold. But of course, Murder God being Murder God, she went a little too hard on the “punishment” aspect and also once again failed to comprehend that people change. So again she failed and again she finds herself feeling betrayed that someone who once followed her so diligently has turned on her. Now she has two disappointing sons.So yeah. Lots of “she/he betray me and I don’t care anymore, I’m fed up with this world!” from Murder God currently. That and a... gradual grudging realization that perhaps the Awakened are less like pawns than she thought and also maybe, just maybe, she’s being a bit unfair. And maybe she deserves some of the consequences she’s getting... but she’s never going to admit that. As I stated before, she can’t feel much of anything and the games are one of the few ways she can feel something, and because she’s already so numb the idea of feeling suffering just feels disproportionate to her. Unlike humans, change is... well, there’s a reason why she struggles to comprehend the ways her cast develops.I guess it’s like. Okay, so she’s the Antagonist of the story, right? She is the Antagonist and she sits outside of the story as the Writer/Game Master, and to her these characters are pawns. This story is one of stasis because that is what the Void is- Murder God cannot feel anything, she is the Void, she cannot change. She cannot change and she is... dealing with so much more than these pathetic pawns can ever understand. The pawns are characters. Why should characters be upset about their place in a story? Why are they upset and why do they vote against their own deaths when it all resets anyway? Why do they care if they suffer, their suffering is so small? Why do they go against what she says? It’s futile, nothing changes, she has seen story after story of humans “changing” only to find they cannot escape themselves. Humans are snakes eating their own tails. Humans create their own problems, they make selfish wishes and then they get mad when they have to pay for them. Humans are naturally disappointing, she knows this very well. Why do they fight? It’s all futile, so why bother? If they suffer it’s temporary, it’s just another part of the cycle and the stasis. If it’s all going to be futile anyway, they may as well be grateful for what she gives them and what the Void has to offer... but no one is.No one is grateful for what she does and no one validates her work. She tries so hard and yet it’s never enough. She wants connection but these connections hurt her. She’s desperate for something to let her feel but no one will give it to her and she has to do her job and follow the rules to some extent and no one seems to understand that, and then when she hurts she cannot help but lash out. Why is everyone upset with her for bending the rules a bit for herself? If they knew what she was dealing with then they’d get it, obviously. So basically she just... has this perspective that due to her own problems she deserves to be this way and her characters do not. And some part of her can grudgingly admit that’s not right, she knows deep down that’s not how stories work. She operates heavily on the idea of Action and Consequence, and she knows deep down Consequence has to apply to her as well. but it still hurts and it’s still confusing and nothing is going the way she expected and she doesn’t know what to do about it.Also fuck you she doesn’t care that she totally deserved to be shot and she deserved it so badly that the Void made her heal very slowly, it’s still mean!

[abybweisse]

LONG VENT POST: Family issues, part 1 of ?

So, a bit ago I said I’m not as active right now, due to family issues. I didn’t want to fill the thread of that post with all the long, sordid details.

Right now I’m trying to get my mother into an “assisted living and memory care” community (nursing home, basically) and doing everything I can to stop her credit union accounts from hemorrhaging from all her incompetence (she’s been scammed a bunch and generally taken advantage of).

Yesterday’s biggest takeaway was the discovery of numerous scams she fell for over the past few years... plus three months worth of fraudulent Uber and Uber Eats charges... and the fact that she pays about $550/mo on car insurance but the last couple times (at least, maybe more) she got collision repairs done? She didn’t file claims and pay a $500 deductible. No, she paid in full, out of pocket. Out $7k instead of $1k for two repairs in just a few months’ time. How can you pay huge insurance premiums and never notify them when you need collision repairs?!

Found out just recently that about a couple years ago, someone scammed her for an easy $5k. Found out she never deposits the full amount on car payments I send her. She never makes full deposits on the rent a tenant pays her. Instead, she cashes much of them out, and I have no idea what she does with the cash.

She buys stuff in bulk but cannot use most of it before it goes bad, but she refuses to toss out expired foods. Her hoarding tendencies have gotten worse. Even though she tells my sister and I not to send her gifts that would add to the clutter in the house, I found out yesterday she’s been dropping $200-$300 on random stuff from places like TJ Maxx and Tuesday Morning just because they made her “happy”. She hasn’t even unpackaged the hanging glass butterflies or other things. I told her she can take them to the “home”....

She’s wrecked two brand new Priuses (about $30k each, each paid up front/in full with inheritance money from my dad, who died five years ago) within about two years’ time. The first was “totaled”, but I have yet to verify whether she ever opened a claim to get money for it. This one hasn’t been officially declared totaled or repairable. I had to file the claim on it on her behalf. For all I know, the $550/mo premium might be on both cars. I’ll know for sure soon. If she’s been paying insurance on a car that was “totaled” two years ago instead of getting market value of about $22k, I will definitely break down and cry. For at least the 50th time in the past few days. Seriously, if she just found out the previous one couldn’t be fixed and walked away from it without filing a claim and getting the huge payout... and is therefore also still paying for insurance on it? I’ll probably scream, too.

The latest (and last ever) car wreck was last Wednesday. We’ve been telling her for over a year she shouldn’t be driving. Her doctors have told her the same for at least 6mo. My sister and I were planning to visit her and take away her keys, but the wreck happened before we could even finalize our travel plans.

This time, she was trying to get to dialysis (she goes three days a week), and she couldn’t use Uber anymore, so she was determined to drive herself. Just before 5 am, she was driving down her own residential street and blacked out (apparently) and hit three parked (and unoccupied) vehicles. Police showed up and she got out of her car and told them she needed a ride to dialysis. One of the officers took her. She can’t recall hitting three cars. Told me she hit a curb and one car. Later told someone else she only hit a curb. I don’t know anything about the curb, but probably. However, I definitely believe the police report that three parked cars were hit badly and had to be towed away, too. After the police spoke to her tenant, they said they’d make things easier for us and revoke her license. Phew.

I convinced dialysis staff (actually, they completely agreed without question) to send her to hospital afterwards instead of letting yet another friend take her home. Good thing, too, because before dialysis was even up that morning, she was in a lot of pain; she had told them earlier she didn’t need to be looked at. Well... no broken bones, no major injuries, and her labs were ok except slightly low potassium. However, a brain scan showed something I already knew just by dealing with her: it showed ischemic changes associated with dementia. Monday of that week, I had called her renal doctor to tell him I worried about her mental health and wondered if it had anything to do with the renal failure. He said he didn’t think so; it’s got to be something else causing the mental decline we are seeing. When I told him she’s still driving sometimes, he became furious and said he’d refer her to get a full dementia evaluation. Well, before he could even get the referral to her, she’d wrecked again. He’s seen her now, but I haven’t heard any updates from him. Mom says she hasn’t done the evaluation (that she knows of), and she heard someone at the hospital mention “dementia”, but she doesn’t recall what they said about it. 😔

I didn’t take photos when I finally saw her car, but I’m going back up to Dallas tomorrow and staying in a Motel 6 overnight (with my dog) to take care of as much financial matters for her as I can in these next two days. I’ll get another chance to see the car (to clean out items), so I’ll take pics then. I might not get back to Austin until sometime Wednesday. Not sure about Wednesday yet, but I already requested Monday and Tuesday off from work by email and left a vm with coworkers. I’m about to run out of annual leave because of this. I know I’ll be making many weekend trips coming up until my sister and I have gotten her moved into the nursing facility. And for a while afterwards, too, since we have to clean out the house, put some of her stuff into a storage unit, and sell the house ASAP. Plus, we need to visit often, at least at first, to make sure she’s settled in, isn’t hating it too much, and is being taken care of properly.

It’s a good thing my sister is paying for my hotel charges and has also offered gas money (though I haven’t asked for gas money... yet). This is still way cheaper for her than booking herself flights back and forth between Olympia, WA and Dallas, TX. The more leg work I do on this, the happier my sister is to help with my travel costs. Honestly, she really doesn’t want to come down here until it’s time to move our mom, clean the house, and put it up for sale.

And, since we have so little time to get her affairs in order, we are placing her in the only community my mom and I have toured, so far. I told her if it turns out to not be a good place (at all) once she moves in, we can keep looking at others (while she still lives at that one) and move her again. But, honestly, this place does seem nice enough, and none of these places are perfect. Plus, it’s right next to the hospital where she always goes... the one where her doctors are associates. I joked that if they needed to send her to the hospital, they could put her on a gurney and wheel her down the street. She laughed at that and said the location is perfect.

Sigh. She’s being compliant and has even said thanks for us (her two daughters) stepping up to help her and get things taken care of. We were afraid she would refuse to leave her house of almost 40years. She’s not even batting an eye at us deciding to sell the house to make sure she can afford the rent and services (the suites at the community are rented out like apartments, but with three meals a day and unlimited snacks, weekly cleaning service, weekly laundry service, landline phone, cable, and internet included. We will have to pay more for “memory care” and probably for medical transport they provide (unless that’s included, too), plus whatever else. She might take her cat with her, or she might leave him with a friend of the family. But it’s a one-time, non-refundable fee of $500 if she keeps him. I kind of hope she gives him up, and they just bring him along on visits to her. She would have trouble taking care of him.

She’s never shown me her finances before. We had no idea how bad (completely uncontrolled) her spending was. It was probably bad enough before our dad died, but afterwards, she started going downhill fast. Now she’s in renal failure and requires dialysis three days a week. She’s recently lost an unhealthy amount of weight in a very short time, apparently because she can’t remember to eat and sometimes she’s too disoriented to get up. She can’t cook anymore, and she’s hardly done cleaning chores since she had kids (that’s what us kids were for: housework). So she’s a money-wasting hoarder in a house full of dirty dishes, dirty clothes, clutter everywhere, and $100’s — maybe $1000 worth — of groceries she can’t get through but won’t throw out when they go bad. And she won’t let anyone else touch them while she’s still living there.

I have so much to do the next couple days, I had to write a list of each thing I need to look into and take care of before I return home. I still have some stuff to get ready for the trip, so this is the end of the first vent post.

I hope I get more sleep tonight than I have the past week....

[broccolianddandelion]

13 Todobaku Fic Recs

I’ve been following the BNHA fandom for approximately two seconds, but within this time Todobaku has become my indisputable OTP. (The evil soul who introduced me to the fandom via her divine artwork (@anatchie) favors Bakudeku, and I feel a little disloyal now, but what can you do?) Over the past months I’ve read a lot of Todobaku. My gift to you is a baker’s dozen of my (admittedly idiosyncratic) favorites, the ones I return to time and again. As always, check out the author’s tags before reading. They’re there for a reason.

The indelicacies of nitroglycerin (T, 50.2K) by yeetin. - “Don’t you think Bakugou is pretty?”

Todoroki looked up, after having apparently caused the untimely deaths of his three friends. Uraraka was doubled over, clutching her throat as bits of food sprayed from her wheezing mouth, Iida had somehow mini-Recipro Bursted his way through the floorboards and was struggling to get back out of the crater, and Midoriya… Midoriya looked like he needed an ambulance. Or an immediate blood transfusion at least, his face was so white.

This fic has one of the most indelible scenes of drunk Todoroki I’ve ever read. A little angsty, a lot funny.

I want to reconcile the violence in my heart (T, 28.1K) by @callalilalma - You had one job, you piece of shit! his brain yells at it. Just pump fucking blood in my veins, don’t fucking give yourself to half and half!

This fic got me fascinated with the idea of Bakugou as an unreliable narrator. I may be halfway done with a remix from Todoroki’s point of view. I’ve probably listened to the Muse song thousands of time by now. (I’m a slow writer.)

i want you (to want me) (T, 18.5K) by shaekspeares - “You know what,” Bakugou exhales angrily, more to himself, and then suddenly is leaning over Todoroki where he sits, arms by his sides and face close to his. “It doesn’t fucking matter. I can think whatever the fuck I want of you. I’m gonna beat you no matter how much better than me you think you are.”

“When you’re not having a tantrum, I actually respect you a lot,” Todoroki corrects. Mainly because he means it, but also because he’s starting to know how to get Bakugou to pull the face he’s pulling now. “You’re an admirable person in some ways.”

“Fucking hell,” Bakugou says, his shoulders sagging and his expression comically disheartened. “I- what’s next? You gonna declare your love for me mid-battle?”

“I don’t think so, no,” Todoroki replies, instinctively, then freezes, thinking about it.

“I’m fucking- going,” Bakugou continues, undeterred and jittery. “Fucking weirdo.”

He hastily grabs his bag and stomps off, and Todoroki sits very still.

Oh, dear.

He thinks he may have missed a few things while redefining his feelings.

One of my favorite characterizations of Todoroki. Hilarious and sweet getting together fic.

Lock and Key (E, WIP) by @autochorystalize - Bakugou made a choked, gravelly noise before croaking out a low, “You can’t be serious.” His fingers ached to blow up everything in the room.

“I’m sorry, young man, but you can’t change reality! This sometimes happens.” Recovery Girl clicked through his file, adding a new symbol in a previously empty slot. - - - A pair of eyes discreetly locked on to an explosive blond plowing his way forward, parting people in his path. He recognized the kid, of course. Anyone in the underbelly of society would recognize him, after the publicity of both UA’s Sports Festival and the events leading up to All Might’s fall. The uniform he was wearing cast away any doubts about the young man’s identity. It was a bit of a surprise that the little firecracker presented as an omega. - - - - - - - - - Or: there are certain types of evil that seemed too distant, archaic violations and perversions that would never actually threaten bright-eyed heroes-in-training in the clean, modern world...but sometimes those evils aren't as distant as one might think.

The fic that changed my mind about abo. The world building is mind blowing. Delves deep into social issues that are all too real. This can be a hard read at times (check the tags) but is absolutely worth it. Also I’m dying for Bakugou and Todoroki to get together.

nothing lingers passively. (E, WIP) by @ii-mo - A faint tickling sensation under the bridge of his nose was all the warning he received before Bakugou gripped the lapels of his uniform and hauled him in. The scent of the Alpha's peaking rut shot through him like a bullet, ricocheting off his insides and settling to quiver at the bottom of his gut, still warm.

Cross- eyed, Todoroki wrinkled his nose where it nearly met his classmate’s. He should have expected that reaction, honestly.

Alpha Bakugou Katsuki is allergic to suppressants, and Todoroki Shouto is a Beta with a grudge. Together they strike a deal that swiftly becomes more than either of them had bargained for.            

As of this writing there is one more chapter left in this story, and I can’t wait to read it. Fascinating take on the biology of alphas and betas.

Proximate Cause (T, 5.3K) by @daddyissuesandgrenadehands - “It seems our dear Bakugou has punched a teacher.” Shockingly, there’s no sarcasm in Nedzu's voice. “Midoriya was involved somehow too, but we aren’t sure how just yet. This is quite serious, as you can imagine.”

Aizawa wouldn’t be opposed to a Nomu slamming his head into the ground a few more times. Maybe one could just come and finish the job for good this time. All he wanted was one freaking day of peace. Goddamit Bakugou.

A serious catalyzing event, yet some of the best wry humor I’ve encountered.

rule 02: stay (M, 23.6K) by @altinsky - The vampire leans in close, expression utterly business-like in its seriousness.

And the last thing Katsuki remembers is the feeling of a tongue touching the bleeding wound at the juncture of his throat, the feeling of inexplicable anger, the fleeting thought of — this guy is so fucking dead — and then, nothing.

(or: katsuki is a vampire hunter who, thanks to a series of misfortunate circumstances and his potent werewolf's blood, somehow ends up striking a deal with the most aggravating vampire in existence)

As I rule I don’t particularly like creature!fics, but this fic, perhaps inspired by the BNHA Halloween art, captivated me. Great use of canonical elements in an AU.

Starting Over From Ground Zero (E, 38.5K) by @xenophonspeaking and HyacinthAtropa - What would their relationship have been like, if Bakugou’s pride hadn’t stood in the way? Would they have been friends, or would things have mostly stayed the same? Would Bakugou have been happier, more open and honest about his feelings and wants and needs as a person? Would he have accepted and even appreciated the comfort others offered him, rather than always keeping people at arm’s-length in an effort to maintain an image of independence and strength?

Todoroki didn’t know.

He didn’t know. But he wanted to.

Abruptly, like a bolt of lightning, he realized he actually had the chance to find out.

(Or: that one where Bakugou has temporary amnesia and Todoroki is tasked with caring for him until his memory returns, but ends up falling in love with the part of Bakugou that Bakugou has always kept hidden away instead.)

For obvious reasons XenophonSpeaks was one of the first Todobaku writers I discovered, and this is one of my two favorite fics from a talented writer. I’ve been pleased, though not surprised, to see its kudos steadily rising over the months. A sweet getting together story, great use of the amnesia trope, hot lovemaking.

then, be mine. (M, 32.5K) by TDRKBKGO - The way things always trucked onwards despite the ruthlessness of it was a constant fucking boulder in Katsuki’s smooth machinery because he had no time. One thing happened after another and he was content, of course - he didn't want to stand still. In fact, that was probably the one thing he couldn't stand the thought of doing. But it meant leaving things behind.

This fic should have hundreds more kudos. I want to write a love letter to this writer, if it wouldn’t be super creepy. One of my favorite tropes — getting back together — angsty, some of the best-written (though not necessarily the smuttiest) smut I’ve read in BNHA.

Tracing the Sharp Edge of You (T, 4.7K) by hellsinki - “Why do you hate Midoriya so much?”

“Why do you fucking ask? Why not just assume?”

Why not just assume? He had tried that, but something just didn’t add up.

“Because it doesn’t fit your profile.”

This is my take on the reason behind Bakugou’s rocky relationship with Deku based on their canonical interactions, set in a soft todobaku narrative. It’s not what you have been reading up in the fandom, but this is what I think could be a very plausible reason. Fair warning: Not exactly Deku-friendly.            

This is a Todobaku fic, but it is actually a fascinating take on Bakugou’s relationship with Midoriya. If you read the comments you can see that a lot of readers didn’t understand (or appreciate) what the writer was doing. A refreshing read that I return to when I want something different.

Without Hesitation (T, 8.2K) by @xenophonspeaking - The first time Bakugou told Todoroki he was in love with him, he thought he’d die.

My other candidate for favorite fic from XenophonSpeaks. This fic makes my angst-loving heart sing, and there are some great ensemble comedic moments.

Yellow Umbrella (G, WIP) by veemon - When Todoroki’s interest finally catches Bakugous attention it may be too late for them to make up.

I adore this fic, and it launched my obsession with manipulative!Midoriya. I eat that shit up now. A rare G-rated abo story. I can’t wait until it updates.

you are my sun. (T, WIP) by TDRKBKGO -  “‘Why’d he have to go and become the Moon’, he said"  Shouto leans forward where he sits in a cherry tree on the verge of springing into full blossom, rubbing his temples.  

“Because he went and became the Sun.”

This fic blew my mind, and it’s breaking my heart that it hasn’t been updated in months. I was speechless when I finished the first chapter. Bakugou’s the sun, and Todoroki’s the moon, and the way the story maps onto canon is extraordinary.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

*kicking at your door, smashing it* DING DONG

Hello! 🥰🌸

from "Questions You Should Be Able To Answer For Any OTP" 1,3,4,5,9 and 10 for moanida!😅💜 But you can answer all of them or only few of them is it's too much ahaha

Ily, take care!!

YEAH BOIIII

Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop?

I'm just imagining Moana being a barista at some hole-in-the-wall authentic Polynesian coffee place by the beach, and of course Merida because she damn well needs her caffeine in the morning or she'll pass out, and Rapunzel insists on starting these fucking Squad Beach Days early. Merida was honestly willing to take the first cup of coffee she could get when the gang first went into town, but uhhhhhh oh GOD that girl behind the counter is cute!!! Merida starts "ending up" in there quite a lot, although initially she can barely string a coherent sentence together in front of that cute barista and can't make eye contact for more than half a second. Extroverted as she can be, Merida dissolves into an absolute mess as soon as a pretty girl is involved XD

Merida also pretends to only like black coffee to make herself seem tough, but in reality she kind of hates it and prefers sugar-laden lattes and sweet teas. After a while, when she and Mo have established kind of a friendship, and Merida can have an conversation with Mo without imploding and making an idiot of herself, Mo notices Mer making a face every time she sips her Plain Black Coffee and kinda smirks and is like “You know, there’s no shame in adding sweeteners. I mean, for god’s sake, my favorite drink here is the blonde vanilla coconut latte, and I’m still pretty tough.” Merida is just like “OH THANK GOD” and finally admits that she’d much rather be ordering an Irish crème, toffee, buttered rum, cinnamon, or caramel latte. If the seasonal flavor selection offers any apple-accented or apple pie-esque lattes, Merida’s all about that shit, too! Probably the most “intense” drink Merida actually enjoys is a pretty spicy cinnamon latte. She ends up ordering this pretty frequently to impress Moana with her spice tolerance, even though she really doesn’t need to.

Also, in case there’s any question about it--yes, Moana absolutely memorizes Merida’s orders! Moana also memorizes what flavor syrups Merida seems to like best (i.e. spicy cinnamon, apple pie, caramel, toffee, butterscotch) and gives them extra shots of them in her drinks. When the manager complains about all of Merida’s favorite flavor syrups running out frequently, Moana is like “Oh nooooo, I have no idea why THAT could be! That’s terrible!”

Rivals to lovers AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?

I love the idea of them having a super-petty sports rivalry in a modern AU! Merida strikes me as being competitive as hell, so I’m betting anything she’d be the one to take it way too seriously and get increasingly annoyed with Moana outdoing her, while Mo kind of gives in and indulges Mer but is also secretly amused and kind of flattered that Mer is like...that into their rivalry. Moana’s just like *Regina George voice* “Why are you so OBSESSED with me???”

Like maybe in a modern-day college AU, Merida has been the star of her college’s archery team basically since freshman year. She wins the championships!!! She gets the trophies!!! She’s very well-known within the tiny niche community that is college archery!!! Then, come junior year, this girl in Merida’s year who Merida’s never even SEEN before shows up out of nowhere and makes the cut for the team. She’s honestly way better than she has any right to be (like judging by how she is with that harpoon gun, Moana’s aim is pretty damn good) and is constantly stealing the spotlight, and Merida is a very angry lass. Like it seems like no matter what she does, Moana can always one-up her, and Merida wants to tear her hair out in frustration. Doesn’t help that every time Moana does ridiculously good on a drill and gets 7 bullseyes in a row or some shit, she’s insufferably smug and cocky about it. Merida very-nearly throws a fit every time Mo outdoes her, and Moana honestly finds the whole thing pretty amusing. She’s sort of flattered that apparently only she can get such dramatic reactions out of Mer, and that just tempts her to push Mer’s buttons all the more.

Then, come the annual Big Archery Tournament Finals! As usual, Merida’s college’s team wins--although this time, it’s through a combination of Merida’s and Moana’s skills rather than just Merida kicking archery ass for like 2 hours straight. On the individual evaluations, Moana scores higher than Merida, but only by a little bit. Merida is, of course, extremely salty, but she’s also grudgingly grateful that Moana being there was able to give their team a definitive edge in the competition.

Afterwards, the team goes out for celebratory drinks. After probably 3 drinks too many, Moana finally works up the courage to try and actually like...have a straight conversation with Merida for once, instead of just communicating with passive-aggressive show-offery. She wanders over, sits next to Mer at the bar, and half-slurredly asks if she can declare a truce just for one night, in honor of their kind-of-teamwork winning the tournament. Merida is also a few drinks in, so she’s just like “sure, fuck it, maybe yer not so bad after all. Now prove to me you’re not a pain in the arse!”

They chat for a while, and it turns out Moana is actually pretty easygoing and fun to talk to when she’s not mega-flexing with her archery skills. After a few more drinks, Moana is like “...can I tell you something?” and Merida’s like “why not?”

And then Moana just goes bright red and looks away and admits that the whole reason she got into archery and boosted up her skills enough to join the team in the first place was because she saw Merida making like 50 bullseyes at the previous year’s tournament, and developed a huge crush on her--to the point where she did all this extra-ass shit just so she could join the archery team and get to know Merida better. Also, every instance of Moana acting smug and cocky after acing a drill or perfectly hitting a target? It was honestly because she was trying to impress and show off to Merida, and also because she’s awkward as hell and has no idea how to actually flirt without being joke-mean and joke-cocky. Merida, a much more emotional drunk than she will ever admit, starts crying and gets super apologetic, because oh god, she was being so mean and rude to this girl who only ever thought she was cool and wanted to impress her from the jump??? How COULD she??? Moana lowkey loses her shit laughing because how mad Merida got at being upstaged was honestly kind of hilarious, and she was actually really flattered that Merida was, again, that obsessed with their rivalry. It made Moana feel weirdly special that only she could get to Merida that much, and she honestly liked the attention, even if it...wasn’t the most positive XD And Merida starts laughing, too, because she’ll admit that in hindsight, this whole thing feels a little ridiculous, and extracurricular college archery really isn’t that big of a deal.

Finally, Merida just rolls her eyes and says “C’mere, yeh bloody show-off yeh” and grabs Moana by the front of her archery uniform and smooches her!!! The entire archery team hoots and hollers because OH SHIT, DAT GAY!!! Merida holds out her other hand and flips the entire team off, which honestly just makes them cheer more.

Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?

Depends a lot on the conflict, I think! Maybe a war breaks out in an AU where someone other than Moana is chosen to return the Heart of Te Fiti--I’m gonna say Tui, for irony’s sake! Moana and Sina take over as co-chiefs while he’s gone, but he takes significantly longer than Moana did in the quest, so Moana’s tribe is eventually forced to flee Motunui to find new fishing grounds before their island is overtaken by darkness. The people of Motunui sail across the world, trying to find a new place to call home. Unfortunately, every time they find a habitable place, it’s already occupied, and the people who live there are uninterested in sharing their already-scarce food.

Eventually they stumble upon Dunbroch, far enough away from Motunui that the seas aren’t affected by the spreading darkness, and fish are plentiful. Naturally, Moana’s tribe sets up a camp on the shores and starts catching as many fish as they can, hoping they’ve finally found a place where they can have enough to eat again. Unfortunately Fergus and Elinor aren’t too crazy about this, and are like “yo, these oceans and these fish and other game belong to the people of Dunbroch and you gotta leave” and Sina and Moana are like “Pls we don’t have any place to go and we’ve been barely eating for a long-ass time, can’t you spare some food?” and Fergus and Elinor are like “sorry bro, it’s almost winter and we have our own entire kingdom to look after, we don’t need more mouths to feed. You gotta be on your way or shit’s gonna get real.”

So Moana thinks this sounds sketch as fuck because like...there’s an entire forest full of deer, rabbits, and other game, and they have NO food they can spare??? That night, Sina sends Moana to spy on the kingdom, since she can be pretty sneaky when she wants. Moana manages to climb the castle battlements and watch through a window, and she sees a bunch of people enjoying a massive feast in a huge dining hall. Her eyes are particularly drawn to a girl about her age with a head full of bright, fiery curls, wearing a nice dark green dress and gorging herself on pastries adorned with white icing and raspberries.

Moana heads back and tells Sina “actually it looks like these assholes have PLENTY of food to spare, and they just want to keep it all for themselves” and Sina is like “well shit...why don’t we raid their food store, then??? They’ve gotta have one somewhere!” And so the Motunui village storms Castle Dunbroch at dawn, catching them almost completely by surprise.

The first thing Moana does is seek out the redheaded pastry girl, whom she’s developed a particular disdain for. When she rushes her, she’s surprised that the ginger girl whips around and immediately sends an arrow sailing into her shoulder. When Moana gets close, the redheaded girl pulls out a sword. Moana takes out a long, sharpened wooden spear made from a particularly tough oar.

She turns out to be much more competent than Moana expected, especially for someone who was shamelessly shoving sweets into her mouth not 7 hours earlier.

They go toe to toe Raya-and-Namaari style, and the redheaded girl admittedly gives Moana a run for her money. The longer the battle goes on, the more Moana’s rage grows. She taunts the redheaded girl the entire time, calling her a spoiled, selfish brat who’d rather gorge herself with all the sugar in the world than share even one grain of it. Merida, who hasn’t exactly heard good things about these people from her parents, is just like “well, you’re no better, showing up and thinking you can just steal what belongs to Dunbroch and we won’t put up a fight!”

And thus the war begins. Motunui is never quite strong enough to get through the guards and raid the food stores, and Dunbroch is never quite strong enough to fully drive Motunui out of the kingdom. Fergus and Moana are both far too stubborn to surrender (despite the fact that Sina is kind of ready to), and so the battles continue. Casualties start to pile up. Dunbroch seeks help from the other clans, but they refuse--they did not take their leaders’ sons being scorned by the Dunbroch princess lightly.

Over and over, Moana can’t help but be drawn to the redheaded girl. She realizes after a few battles that this girl isn’t just anymore, but the Dunbroch princess--her resemblance to the king and his protectiveness over her can’t be a coincidence. It only makes Moana hate her more--but time and time again, she isn’t able to get the better of the princess. Moana can fight hard, and she can be vicious--but so, she’s discovering, can the Dunbroch girl. The princess is clever and cunning, and underestimating her has almost gotten Moana a blade in the throat one too many times.

Merida would be the one to change sides eventually, I think (wooo! Finally got to the actual question!). Once she finds out her parents didn’t tell her the whole truth about their first meeting with the Motunui village and sorta fudged what happened, Merida is livid that they turned away people who needed help. She said if she had known there were people who were tired and hungry and just needed a place to rest, she would have gladly given up some of her own meals for them! To prove this, she gathers up her dinner--plus some apples and some pastries she was going to have for dessert--and puts it in a basket, taking it to the Motunui camp as a peace offering. Moana ambushes her and very nearly slices the basket in half, if only because Moana was convinced it was filled with venemous snakes. After some bickering, Moana finally snatches the food away and, after testing it to make sure it wasn’t poisoned, brings it to Sina.

Unfortunately, one basket of food isn’t enough to feed the village, and the fighting continues. Merida tries to convince her parents to share their food stores with Motunui, but they still refuse, saying they need those stores for their own people and the Motunui people killed any chance of goodwill they might get when they attacked. Determined not to see people starve, Merida starts stealing from the reserve herself and sneaking the food out to the Motunui camp. Moana is feeling a lot more kindly towards Merida at this point, and feels a little bad about being so quick to judge her initially.

Eventually, Fergus and Elinor notice the food in the stores going missing, and figure some of the Motunui villagers must be running stealth operations to sneak in and get it. Dunbroch launches a full-scale attack on Montunui--while Merida is at their camp sneaking them food, in fact. Fergus makes a beeline for Moana. Word has gotten out by now of the times she managed to spy on the castle, so her sneakiness is well-known--and Fergus is all but certain she’s the thief. He charges at her with his sword, aimed to kill, when his own daughter steps in the way.

He barely manages to stop himself, but he does just in time. Merida admits she was stealing the food the whole time, and she can’t let Fergus hurt Moana. Fergus demands to know why, and Merida tearfully admits “Because I love her!”

Fergus, in a rage, takes out his sword again and charges Merida. Swords clash between father and daughter, and Merida looks like she’s just about to be overpowered. Moana can see the fear and betrayal in her eyes, appalled that her father would actually contemplate hurting her.

Not wanting to see whether he actually would, Moana steps in and helps Merida to fend Fergus off. “Enough!” she screams. “How can you live with yourself? My father risked his life to try to save his daughter and his people--and you’re willing to fight yours because she doesn’t agree with all this senseless violence?! You make me sick! I’m standing with Merida, because...because I love her too. I’ll leave if you want, but I want this to end.”

This finally snaps Fergus out of it, and he and Elinor decide that maybe the fighting has gone on long enough--and maybe it’s not worth it anymore, if it’s pitting them against their own daughter now. They end up trying to work out something with Motunui. Establishing a peace treaty and figuring out how to proceed forward is a long and messy process, but everyone is willing to put in the work--for the sake of Merida and Moana, if for nothing else.

Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?

Neither of them want to meet their soulmate XD Merida has just been repulsed by the idea of marriage and commitment since she was young, mainly because she can’t not see it as just a means of taking her freedom away and making her be subservient to someone. Besides, given the, um...heteronormative culture of Dunbroch and all, she assumes she’ll get not just stuck with, but cosmically bound to a man and that idea just...doesn’t do anything but fill her with unadulterated disgust XD Like please no, she’s perfectly happy to go where she pleases when she pleases with no one but Angus for company. The last thing she needs is some stuck-up, snot-nosed boy telling her what she can and can’t do.

Moana has similar concerns, although maybe a bit less extreme. She’s mainly worried that when she meets her soulmate and, as per expectation, marries them, she’ll be expected to “mature” into a full adult and fully embrace her responsibilities as chief, leaving behind her childhood dreams of exploring the ocean. Same as Merida, she’s worried the person she’s destined for will tie her down and prevent her from exploring and going on the adventures she craves so badly. She’s also, like Merida, worried she’ll get stuck with some lame, boring dude who she’ll be destined for because...he loves her!!! And will be really nice to her!!! But will not stimulate or interest her in any way whatsoever!!! And Moana is pretty uninterested in romance and dating regardless, so the idea of any kind of romantic partner who she’d hypothetically have to run crazy ideas by before just doing them doesn’t sound too appealing to her. Like, she’s happy where she is and having her friends and family for company, what does she need an SO for??? It just feels like the whole “soulmate” business is just the universe attempting to give her a babysitter, and Moana ain’t about that. She can do things on her own, dammit!!! And what makes the great elder love gods think she wants another person to keep track of on her escapades, anyways?!? It’s enough effort keeping herself safe without worrying about someone else!

Imagine their shocked delight when each finds out their soulmate is a) a girl and b) a girl arguably just as chaotic, adventurous, and rebellious as they are!!! They meet and they’re like “huh...maybe the universe wasn’t being some big dumb fucking idiot binding us together after all. I can work with this!!!”

Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?

Merida is the pirate! Or at least...the one who becomes a pirate first! XD Maybe to escape her betrothal she steals a ship and flees Dunbroch, and BOOM trouble on the High Seas time!!! Eventually she sails to the south Pacific on her naval escapades, and stumbles on Motunui. When she finds out Moana is a chief’s daughter, she naturally kidnaps her and holds her for ransom--because screw it, she hasn’t successfully pillaged any merchant ships recently and she needs some cash. But instead of being like “Noooo take me home!” Moana is like “Actually this fucks, I’ve always wanted to sail the ocean anyways and my dad wouldn’t let me before, so you’ve accidentally given me an avenue to achieve my dreams!!! Thank you!!!” And Merida realizes that a first mate would actually be a lot more useful in the long run than a handful of hostage money, so she just kind of shrugs like “aight, yer on the crew.”

Merida is a bit salty because Moana takes to the pirate lifestyle excellently--so much so that before long, she’s arguably a better pirate than Merida XD While Merida is a bit cranky about being outdone in the art of piracy, she also can’t help but admire Moana’s natural aptitude for sailing and propensity for mischief on the High Seas!!!

Their ship is called “The Arrow,” and Merida definitely uses her bow during pirate-to-pirate combat! She teaches Moana how to shoot a bow, but discovers Mo is pretty nifty with a harpoon gun as well!

Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?

Oooooh, this is a fun one!!! Admittedly I don’t usually think about these girls in a Childhood Friends to Lovers AU (very possibly due to...geographical constraints lol) so this’ll be a cool thought experiment!

SO in order to fix my unfortunate geographical constraints, I’m gonna say that this is an AU where the people of Motunui were wayfinders from the jump, and while voyaging (admittedly a LONG way), they stumbled upon Dunbroch. Moana’s parents and Merida’s parents immediately hit it off, and established a political alliance of sorts.

Moana, meanwhile, pulled the classic “little girl on vacation/at an event immediately seeks out other little girl and becomes best friends with her.” Moana and Merida naturally also hit it off immediately, and are both pretty bummed out when Tui and Sina want to leave and continue voyaging and such. However, they make plans to visit as frequently as they can and Merida and Moana are super hyped about this! They both always get extremely excited for said visits, and Little Moana nearly falls off the front of her family’s boat several times because she’s leaning over so far and squinting so hard to try and see Dunbroch.

I love the idea that Moana was the one who was totally smitten from the jump, to the point where it took her years to realize she was aspec because she was like “Of course I can fall in love!!! I’m in love with Merida!!!” She just didn’t realize most people have romantic inclinations toward more than one person over the course of their lives XD

It absolutely does not help that Merida is extremely romance-repulsed when they’re kids--mainly because she associates romance in general with being docile and acting stupid to impress some annoying macho guy, and that thought kinda makes her want to puke. That, and given how, er...heteronormative things are in Dunbroch, it doesn’t reall occur to her that romancing girls is like...an option. So poor Moana has always kind of resigned herself to thinking she has no chance with Merida, and keeps her feelings under pretty tight lock since she doesn’t want to ruin their close friendship and all and she doubts Merida even swings that way.

THEN when they’re in their early teens, Merida is like “hmmm...I wonder what it would be like to kiss Moana?” but then IMMEDIATELY feels weird for thinking that and tells absolutely no one. She’s definitely starting to feel something a little different than just platonic friendship though, and of course she’s also convinced Moana only sees her as a friend and probably doesn’t like girls.

Then one day they’re wrestling around out in the woods, like they have since they were little, and at one point Merida leans down and just impulsively kisses Moana. She’s super flustered and apologetic afterwards, but Moana just stares in shock before being like “holy shit, I never thought you’d actually want me too. Holy shit!!!!” After that, they start secret-dating and everyone around just thinks they’re still “very good friends” XD

When Merida turns 16 and gets the news of her betrothal, she’s devastated. It takes her several days to process her emotions, and several times she tries to protest to her mother, but Elinor steamrolls her and talks over her at every turn. Finally, when Merida can get a word in edgewise, she tearfully bursts out that she can’t go through with this because she loves Moana. Elinor, traditionally-minded woman that she is, is horrified by this.

When Fergus finds out, he GOES OFF at Elinor and sticks up for Merida. He basically says that she’s their daughter and they should want her to be happy, and they should be happy for her that she did find someone she loves, even if it’s a bit...unconventional.

Later, at the betrothal ceremony, Merida picks an archery contest for the suitors with the hopes of cheating the system and winning her own hand. Imagine her surprise when Moana rushes in late with a makeshift bow on her hip, shouting “I am Moana of Motunui, and I’ll be shooting for the princess’s hand as well!”

Luckily, due to Moana’s years and years of informal archery training from Merida herself, the other suitors really don’t stand a chance.

It turns out that Elinor and Fergus set this whole thing up, deciding in the end that their daughter should at least be able to marry who she loves if she had to get looped into a political marriage. And honestly, they weren’t going to say no to a stronger alliance with Motunui at the end of the day. Merida is so pleasantly shocked by the whole thing that she forgets to be mad about the fact that she’s still being pressured into a marriage pretty young XD Luckily, Moana has no intention of trying to hold Merida back or take her freedom away! Their relationship really barely changes after they officially become wives, and they’re still just as in love as they’ve basically always been.

As for the issue of heirs, Elinor and Fergus just make Merida’s brothers the heirs of Dunbroch, and Tui and Sina are fine with Moana and Merida choosing an heir for Motunui who isn’t necessarily their biological child. Neither Moana nor Merida are crazy about the “leaders have to be from the chief/monarch’s bloodline” rule anyways, so they’re more than fine with this!

This is in reference to this post! Still answering these questions for Moanida and Hiccanna, if I haven’t done so already!

@takaraphoenix come get your daily dose of Moanida!

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Place to Belong Chapter 3: Ashes to Ashes

Read on AO3

As the days wore on, Claire gradually settled into a comforting routine as she had at Lallybroch the last time she’d been grieving. Except this time, there was a nagging anxiety in the pit of her gut. It had been over a week since she and Fergus had arrived back after Culloden. Ian and Fergus had alternately gone to the village every day to see if there was any word on the battle, but the only news was that it was a bloody victory for the British. No specifics, no news on survivors.

Claire and Jenny were doing the wash, making small talk about the children.

“The other day Mrs. Crook comes outside wi’ her, and she’s screaming her wee head off,” Jenny said. “Apparently she tried to feed her a bannock and she just threw a bloody fit.”

Claire smiled, squeezing a shirt over the tub. “She isn’t taking well to solid foods, I suppose?”

“No’ at all.” Jenny rolled her eyes, scrubbing a shirt on the washboard. “She’s a holy terror, that one. I’ve gotten her to eat one or two bannocks, some mash potato, but it’s very rare. She’s only got eyes fer my milk.”

Claire laughed, hanging the shirt she’d been working on. “That’s quite common, actually. She may not adjust until she’s closer to two years old.”

“Jamie and Maggie both were chewing on bannocks at eight months, and walking at nine months,” Jenny insisted, wringing out the shirt and hanging it up. “Kitty refuses the food, and she hasn’t yet stood up wi’out holding on to something.”

“All perfectly normal,” Claire assured her, scrubbing a blanket that seemed to have been spit up on. “She’s just over a year old isn’t she?”

“Fourteen months and a week,” Jenny said.

“She’s still well within range to start walking,” Claire said. “Once she passes eighteen months, then we can be worried.”

“Are ye sure? I’ve no’ seen a bairn so late to everything before. Especially no’ my own.”

“A child’s development can often be used to indicate how their siblings will develop, but not always.” Claire continued to scrub at the yellow-white stain on the blanket. “Perhaps Kitty is determined to be her own woman.”

“Aye,” Jenny said, hanging up a skirt.

“If it would make you feel better, I can examine her the next time she eats a bannock, or a potato. See if it’s causing her any internal discomfort that would turn her away from solid foods.”

“Aye, ye could, but ye’d likely have to shove it down her throat first.”

Claire laughed. “Well, if the time ever comes, I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“I thank ye, Claire.”

“Although, I think it’s more likely that she’s just inherited the Fraser stubbornness,” Claire teased, finally getting the blanket clean and wringing it out over the tub. “Perhaps it just skipped over Maggie and wee Jamie.”

“I dinna ken about that,” Jenny laughed. “More likely it’s just waiting to rear its ugly head until they’re older.”

“That sounds about right.”

They laughed again, but they were suddenly interrupted by hoofbeats coming from up the road. Claire dropped the skirt she was washing back in the tub and rushed to greet Fergus as he passed under the archway on horseback.

“Any word?” she asked, her eyes frantically darting over his face to read him.

“They are executing survivors. That is all I have heard.”

“Any names?”

“No. I am sorry, Maman .”

“Damn.” Claire ran a hand over her face, frustrated. She sighed, then reached up to help Fergus off of his horse.

“We are not the only ones that do not know what became of their loved ones,” Fergus said. “The British are not telling anybody anything.”

Claire pulled him into a hug, kissing his head. “It’s alright, darling. You’ve done your best.” She started to say that he ought to put his horse away and then get to the fields with Ian when she was overcome with a dizzying wave of nausea.

“ Maman ?” Fergus said fretfully, feeling her sway in his grasp.

Claire immediately released him, only able to stumble a few feet away before she was violently ill. Jenny rushed to her side as she doubled over, keeping her from completely toppling. As quickly as it began, it was over, and Claire breathed heavily to catch her breath. She spit onto the ground, the bitter taste of her own bile still lingering in her mouth.

“Ye alright, lass?” Jenny asked, rubbing her back.

“Yes…I’m sorry, I didn’t see that coming,” Claire said, embarrassed.

“Go fetch yer mam some water,” Jenny said over her shoulder to Fergus, who obeyed immediately. “Let’s sit ye down, then.”

Jenny led Claire to the porch steps, and Claire quickly shook her off. “I really can walk straight. I’m fine.”

Once they were seated on the steps, Jenny looked at Claire knowingly. “That was the bairn, wasn’t it?”

Claire was very nearly ill again. She must have looked as shocked as she felt, because Jenny went on. “I suspected, but I didna want to ask if it wasna true. Would’ve upset ye, ye ken. But I ken morning sickness when I see it.”

Claire sighed, defeated. “How could you possibly be able to tell?”

“Ye had the glow about ye,” Jenny said. “Just now when we were talking about Kitty. Ye had this look in yer eye, like ye were keeping a secret, thinking about when yer own bairn would eat solids, would start walking.”

Claire blushed. “I hadn’t noticed I was doing that.”

Jenny took her hand in hers. “I’m happy fer ye, Claire. Especially after the sorrow ye saw wi’ the first one.”

“Thank you, Jenny.” Claire smiled at her.

“Does Jamie know?”

“No…I didn’t get the chance to tell him.” Her face burned with the shame of the lie.

Just then, Fergus appeared behind them. “Here, Maman .” He dutifully handed Claire the glass. She thanked him and gratefully sipped.

“ Nausées matinales ?” Fergus asked, sitting next to Claire.

“Ye told the lad but no’ me?” Jenny said, feigning betrayal.

Claire smiled, her lips still around the rim of the glass. “He figured it out himself. Like you did.”

“And ye kept yer gab shut about it?” Jenny said. “I’m impressed.”

“Of course I did.” Fergus puffed his chest out proudly. Claire chuckled and tousled his hair. “It would be a great betrayal to reveal Maman ’s news for her. It is her news to tell.”

“Oh, aye,” Jenny said, her tone revealing slight guilt. “I’ve gone and spoilt that haven’t I?”

“No…it’s alright,” Claire said, resting the glass on her knees and keeping it steady with her hands. “Truthfully I was…afraid to tell you.”

“Afraid to tell me?”

“Well, not you in particular,” Claire said, unable to meet Jenny’s eye. “I was afraid to…to say it out loud. Part of me didn’t want it to be real…part of me still doesn’t.”

“Why ever no’?” Jenny put a hand on Claire’s shoulder.

“Because I can’t imagine having to raise his child without him. I don’t think I have the…the strength to do that.” Claire stared shamefully into the water in her glass.

“Dinna be talking like that, now,” Jenny said firmly, squeezing her shoulder, then crossing herself with her free hand. “Ye mustn’t speak things like that into the world.”

“I’m sorry…” Claire shook her head guiltily. “I know it’s wrong to already be thinking like that but it’s…it’s all I can think about, Jenny.” She finally forced herself to look into her eyes, her own vision clouding with tears. “I’m so frightened.”

“I ken.” Jenny pulled her into an embrace. “I share that fear, I do.”

“I know.”

Jenny breathed deeply. “But a bairn?” She pulled apart so they could look at each other. Jenny was beaming. “Jamie’s and your flesh and blood, Claire. It’s wonderful.”

Claire smiled weakly. “I remember in Paris, Jamie said you wrote in one of your letters you were so excited you could hardly write.”

“Aye, my hand shook then something fierce. I’m feeling that way again, light and dizzy wi’ joy.” Jenny laughed. “How long has it been?”

“Almost three months.”

“Three months ye been carrying my niece or nephew and I’m just now hearing of it!” Jenny was incredulous, but her tone was lighthearted. “Come.” She stood and reached her hands down. Claire handed Fergus the glass and gave Jenny her hands. “We’ll celebrate.”

“Celebrate?”

“The news of yer child, Claire! We’ll have a dram and toast to him, to you, and to Jamie.”

“I…I don’t know.”

“Ye canna stop living because yer afeared, Claire,” Jenny said, momentarily serious. “No matter what happens, yer child is a blessing that deserves to be celebrated. Let yerself be happy when ye can.” She gave her hands a squeeze. “Fergus, fetch Milord.”

Fergus descended the porch, but Claire called after him. “Fergus, wait.” He stopped and turned, looking between the two women, conflicted. Claire then glanced back at Jenny, and she couldn’t help but soften. Jenny’s affection for her child was heartwarming, and her desire to see her happy was touching.

“Make sure you tell him it’s good news,” Claire said, smiling at Jenny.

“Yes, Maman !” Fergus scrambled off.

Jenny laughed gleefully and pulled Claire through the front door. “Mrs. Crook! Whiskey and our finest glasses! We’ve a toast to make!”

Jenny pulled her into the dining room. “Do ye think it’s a boy? Or a wee lass?”

“Oh I…I haven’t the foggiest.” Claire shrugged. “I just want him to be healthy.”

“Him, aye?” Jenny teased.

Claire smiled. “A Freudian Slip, I suppose.”

“A what now?”

“Nothing. Just…one of the names I have in mind is for a boy. That’s all.”

It wasn’t long before Ian appeared with Fergus, Mrs. Crook having already arrived with the whiskey and glasses.

“Alright, pour yourselves a glass. You too, Mrs. Crook,” Jenny said.

“What’s the meaning of this, Janet?”

“Hold yer whisht,” Jenny said, pouring glasses and handing them out.

“Alright, then. I’ve gathered us here because we’ve precious little to celebrate these days, and well, what Claire has to tell ye is certainly something to celebrate.” Jenny turned to Claire.

Claire peered up from her glass sheepishly. “Yes…well…I’m…” Jenny gave her a playful shove. “I’m pregnant.”

“ Mo Dhia !” Ian exclaimed. “Claire, that’s wonderful news!” He embraced her heartily with the arm that wasn’t holding his whiskey. He lifted her a few inches off the ground, and Claire squealed.

“God bless ye, Mistress,” Mrs. Crook said, squeezing her hand.

“Thank you,” Claire said to the both of them. “Thank you, all of you. I’m…I’m confident that our child will come into the world loved beyond compare. Thank you for letting this be our home.”

Jenny raised her glass. “To my wee nephew, and to family.”

“ Sláinte !” Ian cheered, and everyone echoed him.

They sipped their glasses, reveling in their mutual joy. For a moment, Claire truly could forget the anguish and terror that had been so prevalent in her mind merely minutes before. Jenny was right; her child deserved to be celebrated, and she deserved to feel joy about his soon-to-be presence in her life. Jamie would want her to celebrate, too. He wouldn’t want her spending every waking moment fretting for him when she was bringing his child into the world.

As they laughed and drank, Fergus began spewing absurd French names for the baby, causing everyone to laugh all the harder. All of a sudden, the front door slammed open, and the sound of boots echoed through the halls. Laughter and chatter immediately ceased. They all froze where they stood.

It didn’t take long for the Redcoats to realize they were all congregated in the dining room. They entered the room all at once, four of them.

“In the name of His Majesty King George, you are to surrender all weapons, tartans, and Gaelic reading materials.”

Claire’s heart dropped into her stomach. She hadn’t forgotten that she’d helped hide a few pieces of Highlander culture in the priest hole a week ago, but she’d thought they would have had a bit more time. To her recollection the Act of Proscription wasn’t made official until August of this year. It seemed they were getting a bit of a head start.

“Don’t trouble yourselves, we’ll search the house for you,” he continued. “Can’t have you leaving anything behind.”

He signaled for his men to begin the search. Claire cringed as she heard doors slam, furniture turn over. The Redcoat officer that remained in the dining room circled around the table like a vulture, regarding them with condescension, drinks still in their hands.

“And what are we celebrating today?” he asked smugly. “Surely not a Jacobite victory, seeing that there is none to celebrate.”

“There are no Jacobites in this home,” Ian said. “We are all loyal subjects of His Majesty.”

Claire’s stomach turned as he said it.

“Perhaps you drink to the health of your King, then?” He said, arching an eyebrow. “Or is it someone’s day of birth? To whom do I owe my regards?”

He was still circling them. No one said anything.

“Come now, surely you would not deny me in wishing you well.” He stopped before Ian, dangerously close. His tone completely shifted. “Tell me for what cause you drink. Now.”

“I am wi’ child,” Jenny said quickly. The officer’s head snapped to look at her. “My last birth was a fearsome one, and we didna think I could have another, but God has been gracious. We were celebrating our good fortune.”

A sickening smile grew across the officer’s lips. “Well, that is good cause to celebrate. My warmest congratulations to you. And to the father, I assume?” He turned back to Ian.

“Aye.”

He clapped a hand on Ian’s back, just slightly too rough. “Fine job.”

Ian nodded uncomfortably.

Claire was bewildered for a moment, but it didn’t take her long to figure out Jenny’s reasoning. If her own pregnancy was revealed, there would be a question of its father, being that Ian was the only man in the household at present. They might quickly deduce who the father was, knowing that this was the home of the Fraser Laird, and thereby deduce who Claire herself was. The broadsheets had Jamie’s face on them, not hers, but there was still a danger to her being Red Jamie’s wife. Jenny had acted wisely.

The sound of three sets of boots echoed through the halls, getting closer to the dining room. They entered the room, one holding books, the other swords and guns, the other tartans. 

“The materials in question, Sir.”

“Take them outside. Then search the stables and barns just for good measure.”

The three disappeared again, and the officer turned back to smile greasily at them once more. “My kindest regards to the happy parents.” He turned on his heel and left.

All at once they put their glasses down and scrambled to the front door.

“Mam!” Wee Jamie’s voice appeared behind them, and he stepped onto the porch with them. “What’s happened?”

“It’s alright, mo chridhe .” Jenny stroked his head. “Dinna fash.”

They watched in horror as the Redcoats unceremoniously dumped the tartans and books into the dirt. The officer from the dining room lit a match, then looked up at the family gathered on the porch. Maintaining his eye contact, an uncaring expression on his face, he dropped the match into the pile.

Claire had to restrain herself from rushing forward to put out the flames. She had known this was coming…so why did she feel so paralyzed by shock?

“Fire, Mam!” Jamie tried to bolt forward, but Jenny firmly grabbed him by the wrist.

“Stay put.”

“But Mam! Da’s tartan is on fire!”

“I know, mo chridhe .” Jenny picked him up around the waist and settled him on her hip.

“Why’ve they done this?” Jamie asked.

“Shh…” Jenny pressed his head into her shoulder, holding him there and rocking gently.

Claire’s eyes burned with tears as she watched all the things she’d come to hold dear up in flames, burning to ash. It wasn’t long before the officer added more matches, unsatisfied with how long it was taking for everything to burn. The flames were high now, the smoke billowing.

“Mrs. Crook,” Jenny said, her voice hitching. “Take the lad inside, and check on the other children.”

“Yes Mistress.” Mrs. Crook took Jamie from her, casting a mournful look behind her before disappearing into the house.

Ian wrapped a comforting arm around Jenny as she wept silently, and Claire did not miss the tear that trickled down his own cheek. Fergus leaned into Claire, and she put her arms around him.

Yes, they’d all known it was coming. But nothing could have prepared them to actually see their entire way of life literally up in flames.

It took all of fifteen minutes for the fire to burn itself out with nothing left behind but ash. All four of them stamped the ash into the dirt for good measure, and then they were off, their wagon of weapons clinking behind them as they disappeared up the road.

“Should we…clean it up?” Ian asked hesitantly, unable to tear his eyes away from the pile of ash.

“No. Let the wind take it,” Jenny said resolutely. “Let it become part of the very air we breathe, one with Scotland herself.”

Without another word, Jenny descended the porch steps and returned to the washtub they’d abandoned. The celebrating was over, the moment was gone.

Claire gave Fergus’s shoulders a squeeze before joining Jenny at the washtub, and Ian, too, returned to his work, taking Fergus with him.

Claire and Jenny worked silently now, neither of them having the right words after what had happened. As Claire hung a skirt on the clothesline, she was certain of one thing: As much as she prayed for Jamie’s safety and longed desperately for him to be by her side once more, she still thanked God that he had not been here to see that.

[fallen-gravity]

Kaikunāne

Brother.

Hey, @distractibledingo, remember the other night when I joked about turning this thread with @peri-plumz into a full length story, because “LOOK AT THIS, LOOK AT ALL THIS FLUFF, IT CALLS ME?”

...Whoops.

A short summary: 

Maui considers Moana as part of the family. She knows he does. He’s been calling her little sister almost every day since they were 15.

She also knows that his family holds a lot of cookouts, because she’s been to a bunch of them.

Which is why it really puts Maui off that she starts getting uncomfortable when he starts describing the next one she’s going to as the family cookout.

@peri-plumz @distractibledingo @sliceoflove @crab-child @leradny @renee-niels

Almost every time there’s a long weekend coming up, Maui’s dad makes plans to have a cookout at some point during that weekend.

The first time, Maui’s family had a cookout, it was for the end of the school year. Summer was starting, and Dad made a big deal about getting all this food together and making sure the grill worked and borrowing everyone’s phones to check the weather app for the week over and over again to make sure it wasn’t going to be raining the day he insisted on having it. The entire house, as a matter of fact, was filled to the brim with ingredients and scattered cookbooks two weeks before the school year even ended.

The second time, he held one when Te Fiti came home for spring break. She was busy with school, and didn’t have a lot of time to come home during the schoolyear, so Dad put together a smaller barbecue. He still planned it weeks ahead of time, and he still kept begging Maui to check the weather app because are you sure it’s just going to be cloudy are you sure those little cloud pictures aren’t supposed to represent rain, and every time the phone rang or someone’s phone buzzed when they got a text he’d rush over and ask them who it was from just to make sure it wasn’t Te Fiti contacting him to say that she couldn’t make it after all.

Once Maui got into high school, and Punga and Tinirau went off to college, he’d host one every time they both decided to come home on the same weekend. Whether they always planned to come home together or they both just happened to start feeling homesick at the same time, Maui’s not sure, but he always used to joke and blame it on their “twin telepathy” that forced one to always feel the exact same way as the other. Because they came home relatively often, Dad had less and less time to panic over things like the weather or planning out just exactly what food he’d have to prepare and how many portions of it he’d have to make.

And once Maui entered college, Dad joked about holding one every time there was a three day weekend just to get everyone to come home and spend time with him. Later in the schoolyear, when he decided to host one for a long weekend just because there happened to be a holiday on Monday, he’d apparently completely forgotten that he made that joke at all until Maui pointed it out to him.

And just like that, it became a small tradition for the Tangaroa family. Every time there’d be a long weekend, whether for a holiday or not, Dad would host a cookout. No longer would he fuss over making sure everyone was sure they were able to come home, because the cookouts soon became the thing to look forward to on a long weekend. The weather stopped becoming a problem, too, and each time it would rain or become too cold in the winter to hold a barbecue outside he’d just shrug his shoulders and prepare everything inside instead.

Once Maui became good friends with Moana, he started inviting her to tag along. Each time he knew she’d be going home that weekend, he’d ask her just to come home with him, because they lived in the same hometown anyway, and stay at his place until the barbecue was over. Sometimes she’d stay for entire weekend, if the barbecue was on a Monday, and other times she’d just stay the night and go home the next if Dad was holding it on a Saturday. But every time Maui offered Moana to come along, she’d always accept it and tag along, and seeing her at the barbecue became such a regular occurrence to everyone else that sometimes if Punga ran into her on campus he’d tell her about the one coming up before Maui even had a chance to see her.

She got along with everyone in the family well, so everyone loved having her around. She’d mess with Maui or get messed with by Punga or sometimes she’d even help Dad on the grill if he needed the extra hand. It was a family cookout, and eventually Moana stopped being “Maui’s best friend” who showed up to the cookouts whenever she could to the “little sister” of the family who they’d all miss if something in her schedule prevented her from showing up.

Whether the cookouts were directly responsible for his entire family beginning to view Moana as one of their own, or just because she’s known them since her and Maui’s freshman year in high school, Maui’s not sure, but he’d been calling her “little sister” ever since sophomore year. It started off as a nickname he’d use to mock her, because even if she does like to rub in his face that she’s a few days older than him, she’s still eleven inches shorter than him so it doesn’t count. But eventually the name just stuck, because he eventually found himself seeing her as his second sister. And by midway through junior year in high school, he caught Punga slipping up and calling her little sister when she wasn’t even in the room to hear him say it

Either way, it’s clear to Maui that he’s not the sole member in his family who views Moana as one of their own.

He and Moana are sitting in her living room joking and laughing when his phone buzzes with a text notification. They’d decided that this weekend that he would spend the night at her place, just to make up for all of those times she claimed he “kept her from seeing her parents”.  And if Maui’s going to be completely honest with himself, the change is nice, because as much as he likes going home for the weekend, dragging Moana back to his place every weekend when he hasn’t been to hers in months was starting to get old very quickly.

Not to mention that, just as his siblings seemed to change around Moana their senior year in high school, Maui noticed a similar kind of change in Tui and Sina’s change in behavior towards him.

A few weeks before graduation, when he and Moana were studying for finals, Sina came by and offered the two of them something to eat while they worked. But when Sina had approached the two of them and had asked “Is there anything you want, sweetie?” Maui had been surprised when he glanced up from his book and saw that Sina was directing her question at him.

At the time Maui had just brushed off the incident as something that happens to everyone, and maybe Sina just called all of Moana’s friends sweetie, and it didn’t really hit him until he got home that night just why she probably called him that at all. Moana’s an only child, the only child Sina and Tui ever had, so it wouldn’t surprise Maui to find out that because he spent so much time around Moana that they started viewing him as an honorary son. And that thought makes him laugh, because if his dad’s nickname for Moana is anything to go by then he clearly views her as his honorary daughter, so it would really only be fair for Moana’s parents to see him the same way.

Maui’s phone buzzes again, pulling him from his thoughts, and he opens the phone just to prevent the notification sound from going off again in another minute, but then before he can close the messaging app he sees that the text is coming in from “Professor Whale” and he stops. If he tried to ignore the notifications and open the message just to get his phone to stop buzzing, Dad would just start messaging him even more.

The text reads “I’ll see you tomorrow!!!!” surrounded on both sides by two separate whale emojis, and Maui’s about to just respond with a quick “ok” and go back to talking to Moana when another text comes in. It reads, “Is Junior still coming?” with a big grinning emoji attached to the end.

Rolling his eyes, Maui sends a quick “i’ll ask her” back before clicking his phone off and turning to face Moana beside him.

“Hey, Mo?”

“Hm?”

“I know I’ve probably asked you this a hundred times already this week, but now Dad’s insisting on hearing your confirmation himself. You’re coming to the family cookout tomorrow afternoon, right?” he asks jokingly, and Maui’s all about ready to open his phone back up and respond with a quick yes to his Dad’s text when the smile suddenly drops from Moana’s face.

But just as quickly, she catches herself, and she’s smiling again like it never slipped off of her face at all.

“Aw, is that tomorrow?” she asks, like she didn’t already know that from the constant reminders he’s been giving her all week, and her voice sounds stiff, like she’s trying to convince him she sounds shocked by the information even though he knows she’s really not. “I just realized I can’t come this time. I’m...busy with something else.”

Maui frowns. “You sure?” he asks, and snorts, gesturing vaguely around the living room that’s completely empty save for the two of them. “You don’t look very busy to me” he jokes, but it doesn’t seem to do anything to wipe the uncomfortable frown off of Moana’s face.

“Yeah”, she deadpans, and the cheer in her voice from earlier is gone. “It’s kind of last minute. There’s just a few things I need to catch up on, you know?”

Maui blinks. “I mean, sure, if you’ve actually got stuff going on, but…” he trails off, and shakes his head. “Are you okay?”

Moana snorts, and shifts in her seat so she’s not facing him anymore. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a lot of last minute homework I gotta catch up on, is all.” and then, quieter, and in a more sheepish tone, “...besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin any of your family’s fun or anything”.

...She what?

“Nahh,” Maui waves a dismissive hand, trying to make himself sound as neutral and joking as he possibly can. “It really wouldn’t be the same without you there” he says, and can’t help but grin because it’s technically true. It really wouldn’t be the same without her. There had been a few cookouts in the past where she hadn’t been able to attend for one reason or another, and the cookout just wasn’t as lively or bursting with activity without her presence there.

But instead of stopping to consider his words like he expected, Moana just snorts and waves a dismissive hand of her own. “Pfft, sure. It wouldn’t be the same without me” she mocks his voice, and shakes her head. “I appreciate that, but this is your family we’re talking about”

Moana’s hard emphasis on your family hurts more than Maui’s willing to admit, and barely catches himself on time to prevent a frown spreading to his face. “Huh?” he asks instead, pretending to sound confused by her statement. “It’s true. We’d miss you if you couldn’t show”. He snorts. “I mean, it’s not like Dad’ll cancel just because you can’t come this one time, but we’d definitely notice if you were gone. We’ve had a few without you, like when you were vacationing with your parents for spring break, and it was….incredibly boring without you there. Even Dad made a comment on it, and he was the one hosting the cookout”.

Maui grins, but when he turns to look at Moana she’s still frowning like she doesn’t believe him. Maui sighs quietly, and after waiting a short pause for her to respond to no avail he begins to speak again.

‘You’re...like an additional member of the family to us, Moana. All of us.” He says, and sparing a quick glance over at the phone sitting on the table beside the couch, he huffs in amusement. “Here, I can prove it. I ever tell you what Dad calls you behind your back?”

Moana sighs. “I...I know. I love you guys, I really do, but sometimes I feel like…” she trails off, waving a hand in the air to drop the subject, but then blinks in confusion once his last sentence registers and she seems to realize who he’s talking about.

“Professor T?” she asks, clearly eager to change the subject. “No, I don’t think so. What does he call me?”

But instead of answering her question immediately, Maui’s too caught up on the sentence she never finished. He shuffles closer to her on the couch, and rests his arm against the headrest so he can fully face her comfortably.

“Aw, no, backtrack a little bit. You know you can tell me anything if you think something’s up with my family, right? They love you to pieces, Moana. I know Punga likes to mess with you a lot when you visit, but I doubt he’s trying to pull anything when he’s calling you little sister to your face or to me when you’re not around to hear him say it. He calls you that because that’s how he sees you. That’s how all of us see you”

Maui pauses. “Well, almost all of us. You wanna know what Dad calls you when he thinks you’re not around to hear him say it? He calls you Moana Jr. Pretty sure I even overheard him say it to a colleague when I passed his office on the way to class once. I asked him about it later, and he tried to cover himself up by claiming it was so people wouldn’t think he was talking about himself in the third person or something”.

Maui laughs, and he picks up his phone and waves it around in demonstration. “But I never call him by his first name, and he just texted me asking about you using that nickname, so I have...other theories as to why he actually does it”.

Moana finally smiles, and she’s shaking her head and laughing, and Maui really can’t help but to smile in response.

“Really? Moana Jr.? That’s sweet of him” Moana says, but then she shifts again, and her bright, amused smile fades into one that’s small and almost closed off. “And...I know. You don’t need to lecture me. Punga…” she trails off shortly, and that amused smile returns to her face as she elbows him the ribs, “and you, obviously…” she continues, and Maui can’t help but to roll his eyes in amusement and chuckle softly at her gesture. “Have really always been the older brothers I never got to have”. And she smiles, and she looks like she’s going to say something else, but then she pauses, and backtracks, like she’s just now realizing what she just said.

...Come to think of it, isn’t the phrase supposed to be “the brothers she never had?” Where’s “never got to” coming from?

“What?” Maui asks, blinking at her in confusion. What do you mean you never got to have older brothers? You’re an only child, right? I thought Tui and Sina were only looking to have one kid”.

But his question only seems to have made things worse, because there Moana goes again, frowning, and she’s uncomfortably playing with her hair, and for a long moment Maui thinks she’s not going to respond until she sighs out a small puff of air.

“I...wasn’t the only kid my parents had, actually. I had an older brother, but he died when he was only a few weeks old. And...this next part is going to sound weird, but believe it or not...I was actually born a twin. My brother, he didn’t...make it. I was born 70 seconds after he was, and my parents were terrified I was going to turn out the same way as him, but…” she trails off, gesturing vaguely with her arm towards herself with a sad smile spreading to her face. “Here I am”

“Punga and Tinirau,” Moana continues. Sometimes when I’m watching them, even if they don’t seem very close, it makes me wonder, you know, what it would’ve been like if…” she trails off, and between one blink in the next Moana is staring past him with an expression of longing weighing heavily on her.

…Oh.

Oh.

Frowning, Maui winds an arm around her and places a hand on her shoulder as a means of wordless support. He wants to help her, he wants to say something to support her, but the words just aren’t coming to him right now so for the moment he hopes she’s okay with him just kind of leaning towards her and literally offering his shoulder to cry on if she needs it.

Then, a short pause, as the words do actually come to him.

“That’s...so awful, Moana, I’m so sorry your family had to go through that”.

He frowns.

“I kind of get where you’re coming from with Punga and Tinirau, though. For a few years when I was really little, I felt really isolated from my siblings. I knew they loved me, and it’s not like they didn’t actively show me they did, but…” he trails off, momentarily, and shakes his head at himself before he continues on.  “I felt different from all of them because I wasn’t born into their family. Mom and Dad brought me home after everyone else was already born, so some part of me figured that I’d never be able to get as close to them as they were each other, because they brought me in last.”

He pauses to glance over at Moana beside him, and then at her living room around them, and Maui laughs.

“But the part I’m not understanding is...you’re wondering what it would be like if you ever got to have a twin brother like you don’t already have one?” He grins, and it’s wide enough that his tooth gap is visible through his lips. Before she can ask what he means, he retrieves his arm back from around her shoulder and shifts again until his full body is turned to face her.

“I’m sitting right in front of you, aren’t I?” Maui asks, and his grin softens inadvertently as he continues on. “If you’re telling me you the way Punga and Tinirau behave around each other don’t remind you of anyone else, that would really shock me, because I can think of another pair like that off the top of my head and they’re sitting on this very couch as we speak.”

His grin grows wider still.

“You and I were born a week apart from each other to the day, Moana. I think that’s about the closest to actual biological twins you can get”.

Moana’s silent for a moment, like she’s really thinking about what he says, and her small smile up at him is the only and far-too quick warning he has before she launches herself toward him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, yanking him towards her into a tight embrace in one swift, wordless movement.

“And I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way” she murmurs into his shoulder, and Maui, finally blinking away the last of the shock from her gesture, winds her arms around her and holds her close to reciprocate her hug.

“Me too”. He says, but then pauses when he realizes how insensitive that could come across coming from him. “I-I mean, not the part about your brothers. It’s...I’m not saying I would’ve wanted things to turn out exactly the same if it could’ve been prevented, because I’m sure they would’ve been really cool if I ever got to meet them, and-”

He cuts himself off abruptly when he realizes he’s rambling.

“Nevermind. I wouldn’t have wanted things to turn out any differently either”

Moana laughs, and whacks him gently in the shoulder without pulling away. “Pfft, it’s fine, bro, I know what you mean” she says, and Maui snorts a laugh in response.

“Good”. Maui says, and then as an afterthought, “So, you are coming to the family cookout tomorrow, right? I think I overheard Dad on the phone with Te Fiti the other day who said she was coming home for this one, too” He grins down at her. “It’s really been a long time since we’ve had our entire family together”

Moana grins, and once they finally pull away from their hug she nudges him in the shoulder with her elbow. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m coming. It’s our family, isn’t it?” she says, and jumps up from the couch, gesturing with her head towards the front door.

“Speaking of which, actually, you think we can head over there now?” Moana grins. “It’s awfully quiet in here without my other brothers”.

[apartyinmymouth]

GAME OF THRONES

True to form, I wrote the crux of this entry one week ago today and coincidentally the phone clocked in at 11:11pm when I hit the save button (sidebar b/c I navigate the region so sublimely) But real talk, I was inspired last Friday and took pen to paper knowing I would tweak/edit the draft before publishing. Also knowing I would be in Jamaica in just a few short days, it seemed only fitting to complete it there…over some Real Jamaican Food ;)

When I initially penned this op piece, there hadn’t been any replies on record. It was and still is about the excitement of a rap battle between two respected and revered artists and less of a critique on the actual raps and/or who won or would win. That said, I’m continuing this Op piece from my initial train of thought - more of the possibility of what it could be instead of where we are presently, round 2 in what has shaped up to be a very disrespectful battle.

So that’s what was going on. I, like most people was just casually minding my business, excited about what’s emerging musically within the culture and all the heat set to drop and seemingly out of nowhere, a shot is fired. Pusha T, the remaining half of rap cult group Clipse, through his infrared beam shot his shot at hip-hop’s reigning Golden Child, Aubrey Drake Graham. In truth, the subs between these 2 gentlemen have been building for some time but this was a focused and direct attack. I imagine Drake had been minding his business as well when the sneak hook occurred and like a reflex – responded immediately, calculated and concisely. By midnight on Friday May 25th a full on battle had ensued. An official rap battle and it’s exciting to be honest. It’s good for the culture! It’s like a GoT season 6 episode 9; Battle of The Bastards sort of moment in the culture. Only this time I believe the underdog is actually the man currently on top. I don’t think y’all understand, I love this rap shit – I can’t lie. The art of it all, it’s the BEST! If both sides are ready and prepared I think it could be great. A lot of people sleep on Drake and forget that he can actually rap.

One thing’s evident with this crew, they do not half step. It’s like that moment in the movie Heat, when Al Pacino realizes he’s been made and says to his team “this is the No Fuckin’ Around Crew.” Nothing is done impulsively no matter the expedience at which something might appear to occur. If they shooting, believe they got magazines racked up ready to let off. It is not a one off. Perhaps it’s the “slept on, stay ready” mentality. A smart one they’ve perfected and so they stay winning. Drake’s consistently put out great music. Feature after feature, album after album, hit after hit – since he stepped foot in the door, The Boy has not missed - a first in this art form. Personally, “Nothing Was The Same” is my favorite body of work in his catalog to date. Top to bottom it’s an all-encompassing complete album full of earned flexing. It’s that “I’m not a freshman, no longer new to this but still feeling like the props I deserve are not being shown and why not, I’m really that nigga!” Is it because he’s foreign that he’s scrutinized more heavily? Hating on Drake is the fuel he uses. This coupled with the fact that the boy is really talented (a fact few of his peers want to acknowledge) is the exact reason why he’ll continue to win. Hate in their veins. Who God Bless, No Man Curse - understand this.

And then there’s Push. Ties and affiliations aside, Pusha T is a lyricist. That rap lyrical respect thing is something else and Clipse is deeply entrenched in the culture. They had/have a cult following! Mix in his crews (Pharrell – Startrak/iamOther x Kanye – G.O.O.D. Music – musical geniuses) this just thickens and sweetens the pot. No offense but this is nowhere even close to that lukewarm Drake x Meek Mill sandbox scafuffle a few seasons back. This battle is a level!

The “battle” is the ethos of rap. This is hip-hop in its truest form. Rap is a contact sport and at times the most deadly because there are no rules. These men, both gifted and skilled in their own right, are sparring right now. Survival of the fittest. I understand this may be new territory for today’s mumble/drug rap generation – “sensitive thugs” purveyors of the ice-cream saccharin sweet sound. You guys are bearing witness to legacy! There is nothing fair about a rap battle. Just ask Ja Rule. It’s eat or get eaten and apparently it’s eating season right now. Personally speaking, I love a great rap battle! I remember candidly the beefs between KRS-1 & MC Shan, Roxanne Shante & The Real Roxanne, Dr. Dre/NWA & Easy E, Ice Cube & Easy E, Cool J and Canibus, the fatal beef between Biggie & Pac that divided a nation and of course the most epic battle of all that birthed the term “ethered”, the beef between Jay Z & Nas. I’ve been a die hard Jay fan since I first heard him on Stretch & Bobbito’s radio show on 89 tech 9 back in the mid-90s. I’ll never forget driving down 2nd Ave in New York City on a surprisingly balmy day in November 2001 listening to Hot 97 FM. Nas had just recorded his answer to Jay’s diss record Takeover and they were about to premiere it on Flex’s show. The moment the beat drop, my heart sunk. “Fuck Jay Z!” chopped and screwed up. The dj drops an atomic bomb adlib effect, starts the record over. “Fuck Jay Z!” I knew in that moment Jay was done. Takeover was volcanic. Jay in a very comedic way pretty much “sonned” Nas with hard truth and the truth is sometimes tough to bear. But then Nas, maybe as a result of feeling disrespected by this “Judas trader”, went nuclear! Ether was the Nasir Jones we loved and had longed to see. Jay tried a feeble attempt at retaliation with the lack luster “Super Ugly” but the winner was clear. There was no coming back after Ether. The crown prince took the L he never saw coming.  

As far as this Pusha x Drake beef goes, to date, some really unsavory and defamatory things have been said, I do not disagree. And other people have been dragged into the conversation unjustly. My assumption is unless this wraps up quickly, more things will be said. But all of that aside, understanding the players involved and how much each of them love this real hip hop shit to their core, there has to be a slight tinge of excitement though no one enjoys being on the tail end of a joke. I haven’t been this tuned in to a rap beef since Jay & Nas (50 & Ja Rule’s local Queens catty shit bored me to be honest. {and dudes from Queens be so fuckin’ extra for NO reason} though it did result in the end Ja’s career). So I’m thanking both Drake and Push right now. If for no other reason then for reminding (by example) these other clown rappers what this wave is really about. Good Rap Music!  

IMO, the question was never about whether Drake was good or skilled enough to battle Push. Clearly Push believed Drake to be a formidable opponent or he wouldn’t have baited him in the first place. Pusha T is a rapper’s rapper. He wouldn’t have wasted his time, which says a lot about The Boy (a fact some love to argue) The question is can Aubrey be as ruthless as Push? Would he be? If you’re at war or in a battle, you have to fight. This is muthafuckin’ Game of Thrones…Watch The Throne! This is rap music! Kudos Kiddos. This is a music industry bucket list moment. Something you’ll talk about like hip-hop folklore. You’re generation is living through it’s first official rap battle. And it’s real one! –APIMM

Soundtrack for this entry from my schizophrenic iTunes Library.

“Nice Time” –Bob Marley “Hypocrites” –Bob Marley “Duppy Conqueror” –Bob Marley “The Bridge Is Over” – KRS-1 “Set It Off” –Big Daddy Kane “Wu Tang Clan Ain’t Nothin’ To Fuck Wit” –Wu Tang Clan ″4, 3, 2, 1,” -LL Cool J feat. Method Man, Redman, Canibus, DMX ″Second Round K.O.” -Canibus “The Ruler’s Back’ –Jay Z “Takeover” –Jay Z “Ether” –Nas ″Infared” -Pusha T  “Duppy Freestyle” –Drake “Ego”-Clipse “Momma I’m So Sorry” -Clipse ″The Games We Play” -Pusha T “Lord Knows” –Drake feat. Rick Ross “Yes Indeed” –Lil Baby feat. Drake “Camay” –Ghostface Killah feat. Raekwon “Planez” –Jermih feat. J.Cole “Fuckin’ You Tonight” –Notorious B.I.G. “Sexy” –Tank “When We” – Tank “Keep Calm” -dvsn “Be With You” -112 “I Need You” –Alicia Keys “Full of Smoke” –Christion “I’m The Only Woman” –Mary J Blige “The Beggar” –Mos Def “Back to Black” –Amy Winehouse “So Simple” –Alicia Keys “The Waiting Line” –Zero 7