#be a lesbian hit pedestrians

[mkeblr]

🌈🚗💨

[sugarsnappeases]

microfic - lesbian tedromeda!! | 2k words | kiki’s delivery service au

this one’s for my angel @stillagoodwitch and also (mainly) for cat (want u to read it aloud to her please, do u think she ships tedromeda??)

Andromeda thought she was doing well, all things considered.

She’d made it to the ocean, flown through the night to a seaside city with no other witches where she could settle down and start her new life, and no lightning bolts had come down from the sky to smite her, no demons had come from the manor to try and drag her back.

She was free and she was doing well.

She had Cat, her cat, all her savings and, of course, her broom and she thought she was making a good first impression on the townspeople, smiling politely and floating overhead in the early morning sun as she looked for somewhere to land.

It was a busy city, busier than anywhere she had ever been - people bustling across the pavements, cars rushing through the streets - but she thought that was probably a good thing, the change, the freedom, the anonymity of crowds.

She moved out into the road a little to fly under a bridge and - swerved as quickly as she could to the left to avoid being run over by a truck that was coming through the other way. Her broom lurched off sideways, her elbow scraping against the wall of the bridge as she flew away from it - directly into the path of another car.

It was louder now, cacophonous even, cars screeching to stops and beeping their horns at her as she tried desperately to get her broom back under control, swinging this way and that and nearly hitting another three cars before the broom sped off down the pavement, Andromeda still clinging on, pedestrians jumping out of her way.

She managed to stop, hovering in the air just around the corner from all the chaos she had caused, and lowered herself, and Cat, who had also been hanging on for dear life, and her savings and her broom, down onto the pavement with a sigh of relief.

Andromeda took a deep breath before looking up at the people who had stopped to stare at her, trying to smile her friendliest smile, which was rather unpractised, trying to look like she knew what she was doing and like she belonged there and like she wasn’t a complete disaster.

She wasn’t entirely sure how well she was succeeding but she smoothed down her hair and after a few moments everyone started to move about their days again.

Turning to Cat, who was perched on her shoulder now, she said “Well, I think-“

“What do you think you’re doing flying around like that?!” Shouted someone who had marched up behind her. Andromeda turned to see what looked like a policeman, still yelling at her, “You could’ve caused a crash! In fact, you’re lucky you didn’t!”

“Sorry, sir,” Andromeda stepped back against the wall behind her, trying to think what she was supposed to do in this kind of situation, it wasn’t really something she had ever been taught to deal with and for all that she was doing well, for all the she was freer and happier, she was started to feel a little overwhelmed, “I’m still getting used to how busy the city is, I just got here today, you see”

The policeman looked unimpressed, “That’s no excuse, you should still know better than to fly around causing a ruckus like that, someone could’ve got seriously hurt!”

Andromeda frowned a little, because surely it hadn’t been that dangerous, she knew she was a good flyer and it wasn’t like it was her fault that the truck had suddenly appeared like that, but she thought it unwise to say, so she let the man continue his tirade.

“Now,” he said finally, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open, “What’s your name and address?”

Andromeda opened her mouth, racking her brains to think of a suitable answer because she wasn’t sure if her name was really hers anymore, she thought her parents would probably have burnt her off the family tree by now, once they had woken up and discovered that she was gone, and she certainly wasn’t going to give out her old address but she didn’t yet have a new one to use instead. She was alone, and she didn’t have a home anymore and she desperately didn’t want this policeman to get in contact with her parents so all that she could come up with to say in the end was, “Um…”

“Don’t even think about lying to me, girl,” the policeman frowned at her, tapping his pen against the top of his notebook, “And hurry it up, I haven’t-“

Just then, he was interrupted by a shout of “Stop! Thief! Somebody stop him! Thief!” and he hurried off around the corner towards the noise, telling Andromeda to wait where she was and not move a muscle.

Andromeda stood there for a second or two, then relaxed her shoulders, turning towards Cat again, “That was lucky”

Cat nodded sagely, agreeing with her, and they wandered away in the other direction, slipping in between the other pedestrians and taking the next turning they came across.

She was taking it as a good sign, a symbol that maybe some god was smiling upon her running away - she knew she had done the right thing, knew she couldn’t have stayed there for a single day longer, she wasn’t sure what she would’ve done if she’d had to come up with a name and address for the policeman.

Running away had been like shedding her name, her last name at least, like an old coat, like a skin that didn’t quite fit right over her bones. The further she had flown from that manor, the more at peace she had felt, something settling in her.

So maybe the two of them, Andy and Cat, weren’t off to the best start but they had still been fairly lucky; at least they hadn’t been hit by any of those cars, at least they didn’t have to give up their old address and at least they weren’t currently being dragged back across the country to Black manor and the parents who Andromeda wasn’t sure would even let her in anymore, to the sisters, who she had been trying quite desperately not to think about, who she wasn’t sure would even want to speak to her anymore.

She had Cat, and her savings, and her broom, and she was going to make a new life for herself. She was free, and she wasn’t going back, and things were going to work out. Andromeda was repeating that like a mantra as she and Cat walked down a side street, trying to decide where to go from there.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” Came a voice from behind them, it wasn’t the policeman, it was a much younger voice, so Andromeda didn’t immediately break into a run, but it put her a little on edge nevertheless. She wasn’t sure what this person wanted so she didn’t turn to face them, continuing to walk onwards,

“Hey, that was pretty good, right?” the person was beside her now, Andromeda peered at them out of the corner of her eye, a person around her age on a bicycle, pedalling along in time with her steps, “I was the one who called thief, it was a distraction, I helped you get away, right?”

Andromeda turned her head slightly to look at them but didn’t reply, still walking along, struggling to suppress the instinctive sneer at the person’s unkempt hair and untidy clothing. She wasn’t her father, she wasn’t a Black, not anymore, but as much as she had shed that skin and felt better for it, there were things that had been drilled into her since birth that would take more than one night on a broomstick and a fifty odd miles to remove.

“Oi Teddy!” someone else called out from a group of teenagers gathered outside a shop, speaking to the person on the bike, who Andy now assumed was named Teddy, “Isn’t it a bit early to be on the prowl?”

Andromeda frowned, wondering whether she should be offended and feeling slightly out of her depth, more than she already had been. Teddy’s only response was a middle finger - frightfully vulgar, said her mother's voice in her head - and Andromeda worried this would lead to some act of violence or something, but the other teenagers barely batted an eye, just laughing in response.

“Shut up,” laughed Teddy back, and then proceeded to nearly crash into a lamppost because they hadn’t been concentrating on the road in front of them. Andromeda lips twitched, wanting to smile in spite of herself, as she continued to walk on, watching all of this out of the corner of her eye and studiously pretending that she wasn’t.

Teddy cycled a little quicker to catch up with her again, “Hey, can I have a look at your broom? It’s so cool that you can fly like that”

Andromeda kept walking, acting like she hadn’t even heard. She wasn’t used to speaking with people her age, or with anyone who wasn’t her family really, and she didn’t know how she was supposed to behave. There was a part of her that found this all quite endearing, but it was being drowned out by panic and frustration and an insistent need to be alone.

“Please could I just have a quick look?” Teddy continued, undeterred by her lack of response, “I love flying, I just wanna see what your broom is like - It could be payment for how I helped you out with the policeman”

At that, Andromeda stopped, turning sharply to look at the person still cycling beside her.

“I didn’t ask for your help!” she said, a little angry now, probably a little irrationally, she had never been good at controlling her temper, she was a Black after all, or she used to be, “I didn’t want your help. I suppose I have to thank you for it now but it was rude of you to not even introduce yourself”

Andromeda started walking again, frustrated at herself for snapping like that but also frustrated when out of the corner of her eye she saw Teddy recover from their moment of shock and grin, wide and bright, pedalling to get beside her again.

“I’m Ted,” they said, still smiling, and Andromeda didn’t know why that made her feel all warm inside, like that smile could solve all her problems, could calm the stormy seas that were constantly waging war on her, trying to pull her under. Then Ted, not Teddy, which must be a nickname, spoke again, “Now I’ve introduced myself, can I please have a look at your broom? Pretty please?”

Andromeda huffed, a bit discomfited by how friendly they were despite her rudeness, a bit annoyed by their persistence, entirely out her depth and clinging on to her pride and her anger like they were life jackets, a last bastion of familiarity in this new life where everything was new.

“No,” she snapped, harsh and definitive, “Leave me alone.”

She felt a bit pathetic as she stomped away, unsure why she had gotten so worked up like that, her anger gone almost as soon as it had arrived, disappointed in herself and the way she had behaved, worried that she was still too much like her family, like she would never be able to escape them even as she left them behind.

Andromeda didn’t know how she was meant to interact with this person, or any person really, she was beginning to worry that she didn’t know anything at all, overwhelmed by the newness of the city, the crowds and the buildings and the sense that she was on the outside, looking in on something that she might never be able to be a part of, uncomfortable with how Ted was trying to invite her in.

She turned a corner and got on her broom, flying away quickly and aimlessly, confused and maybe a little upset but mostly at herself. Andromeda, with Cat sat on the handle of the broom now, wondered whether this new life might be just a tad more difficult than she had first anticipated.

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 610, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

WORDS: 1193

“Hey sweetheart, Men’s Health wants to do a photo spread of me in my golden years,” Peter grumbled as he read through his emails on his laptop computer. “They want to know if they can send a photographer out to the house for a day.”

“Oh, fun!” I hummed, hallway to sleep. “Do you want to do it?”

“Not really, no,” he grumbled. “But my agent wants me to be more in the public.”

“Ah.” I closed my eyes and curled up into a ball, sighing happily as my mind began to drift off.

“They want to get some pictures of me doing cutesy things with the kids and you being the amazing woman that I fell heads over heels in love with,” he continued to bitch as I drifted off to sleep again. “And also, they-”

I was out.

~xoXox~

I woke up the next morning to Peter snarling and whimpering as Isabelle bounced herself up and down upon his steelen dick.

“Oh yesyesyes…” she whimpered, her chunky braids swaying against her shoulders as her dark toned skin glistened in sweat and cum.

“Jesus fuck!” hissed out Peter, going limp as his orgasm was ripped out from his mighty cock. Likewise, the family nanny let out a loud moan right before rolling off of my soulmate, freeing his half deflated length as she laid there in a clear sex coma.

“Good morning my love. Good morning Isabelle.” I meeped, rolling over to my other side, where I kissed my lesbian lover. “Did you both sleep well last night?”

“I did!” Isabelle answered, letting out a whine when I positioned myself at her still leaking center, where I began to lazily eat her out. “OH-”

Peter collected himself once more before positioning himself behind me, peeling off his spend condom and sinking into me with his hand wrapped around my slim waist and his knees positioned on either sides of my legs.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH…” I yelled softly, continuing to slurp up Isabelle’s womanly slick. Isabelle entangled her fingers into my sleep tussled curls, egging me on with waning moans and feeble tugs.

SNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP

With a bewitching groan, Isabelle released with the tiniest of squirts before slumping back backwards into the pillows and covers, drifting off to sleep.

Next, Peter came with a muffled bellow, his seedless river gushing deep into my womb as he spun me around before picking me up and tenderly cradling me close to his burly chest.

“I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS “I love you.” KISS Peter pressed hungry kisses to my face as he worked me off towards my happily ever after.

“I love you daddy,” I mewled, throwing my head back with a loud whine as my rush screamed out of me, drenching his cock and gray curls that grew down under his boxers. “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH… YESYESYES… Just like that- JUSTLIKETHAT!”

And then, the three of us came at the exact same moment of time before collapsing back into the bed in a panting, wheezing mess. Peter settled me and Isabelle on either sides of him as he drew the blankets over the three of us before pressing whiskery kisses to our temples.

~xoXox~

When I came to next, I found Isabelle and I both in the tub, enjoying a peaceful soak while Peter puttered about in the master bedroom, stripping the bed and making it with fresh bedsheets.

“Good morning, Mary Claire!” Isabelle greeted me brightly, leaning over to kiss me. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“I did,” I answered, humming as she handed me my washcloth to wash myself. I scrubbed my skin clean before I began to brush my fingers through the thick tuff of bright red curls that grew at my apex. I freed the otherwise sticky curls before laying back and letting Isabelle wash me.

The both of us sat there in silence, only giving the other lazy kisses as our hands wandered about, pinching and caressing the other.

“Oh!” I went slack as my final orgasm was torn forcefully from my body, Isabelle seeming to sense that I was ready to tap out. My glazed over eyes took in Peter as he entered with the dirty bedsheets in hand, where he dumped them into the laundry basket. I was unable to look away from his deflated length as it bobbed and nodded to an invisible beat.

“Peter, do you still have one more in you?” the family nanny asked, letting out a screech when Peter came over and snatched her up to his chest, crushing a bruising kiss onto her mouth as he expertly rolled a fresh condom onto his now full dick. “Oh fuck-”

A savage snarl was ripped out from in between my soulmate’s lips as he swiftly impaled himself deep with her and began to pull out and push in.

SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP

I was unable to tear my eyes away from their point of union- my handsome husband giving the family nanny a good and sound dicking.

SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP-SLAP

“Fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck… fuck…” panted Peter before throwing his head back as a howl exploded out of him, his hips stuttering painfully as Isabelle squirted cutely around his massive cock plugging her. “You alright there now Izzie bear?”

“I am, thank you daddy,” she responded woozily as I was getting out of the tub to wrap a towel around my nude figure. She then passed out with a woozy mewl just as Peter was freeing Peter Jr.

Peter caught my eye before pressing another sweet kiss to her temple.

“Daddy loves his Izzy bear,” he told her before tugging me in. “And daddy loves his sweetheart.”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

[moonogre]

Hello T! I would like to write to you with good news, if I can remain coherent enough.

It’s another absurd summer Friday in Montreal. My cousin J touches down for the first time in the city after the sky bursts open with the heaviest showers from the season. When I see J at the bus terminal I burst into tears, which I am prone to doing when I am often overcome with positive emotions. We swap tales: J tells me about an eight hour pedestrian lay over in New York City that is a skin crawling fever dream of grimy labrynthian metros, super sized rats, and escape routes predicated on the kindness of random strangers. They had also narrowly avoided some manner of altercation at Jamaica Station involving panhandlers and cocaine. My story is that I hadn’t finished tidying the apartment for their arrival because a last minute first date had devolved into a tousled half day of bed pleasures. My latest lover had left and came back and I had mostly tried to flirt my way past the strange things I revealed about myself over sweet cocktails and hand rolled pasta in my neighbourhood watering hole: how I had moved around a lot as a child, how my family had succumbed to the strange collective hypnosis of a religious order, how they had came focus on my quirks to an abusive extent, how my mother had hit me for the umpteenth and final time before I had pushed her down the stairs, and how all that business had come to an end only after that. We had laughed and I tried to assure her that I’m more sweet than creepy and it works despite my knife collection, shibari paintings and preserved organ specimens.

B picks up J and I and we go to a place where we can drink cocktails from a golden swan. We holler and laugh over mounting absurdities: are we meant to dress in leather for a fetish party we had been invited to tomorrow? Is B having another threesome— his second in a fortnight— with a charming gentleman that looked the splitting image of Mac DeMarco? We drink tequila in B’s jeep which has been affectionately termed the “car bar” for the evening. We go to another location: a basement speakeasy filled with smoke and hot with all the dancers sweating it out to disco. Our bartender looks like a runway model and makes us drinks: B has a Rusty Prick, J has an Apple a Day and I ask for “a fruity cocktail that is perfect for a basic bitch,” which turns out to be something sweet and delicious. We dance and are joined by a gaggle of girls, and one makes eyes at me and tells me that we should twerk together all night and make men buy us drinks. I laugh and my phone is dead, as per usual, and I cannot take her number; which is a shame because of our escalating flirtations. Her friends take J and B and I to another hidden bar within the speakeasy that is a tiny affair and there are hundreds of eucalyptus bundles handing from the ceiling. We are five rounds of tequila shots deep when we decide that it’s time to call it a night: during our hasty exit we run into B’s threesome prospects and I bend over cackling from the enjoyable stupidity of the night. We can’t leave now, so we go back in and I tell B that I am here to babysit this threesome into existence. There is a man break dancing and waving around a cane. Another man moved to me on the dance floor and holds me in his arms and whispers that he thinks I am the one for him and that I won’t ever break his heart and I laugh and agree despite knowing that none of these things are true: this is a ploy to get me, J, B and B’s potential bedfellows free alcohol. I am a lesbian and have no intention on remembering anything about this man past my letter to you. B sees this all unfold and laughs at me from across the room, and rescues me when my dance partner becomes too insistent in his necking, which may have been fine had I been awarded with the drinks I had asked for. But they never came.

B makes good progress getting to know the folks for the ménage-a-tois. J and I stumble back outside and I insist we retire for the evening. I abandon B to his machinations. J and I cackle the whole way home.

We miss you. We love you. We are happy! We promise 🥰

[strangermoons]

The Beat Has Just Begun - chapter 7 extras

A lot happened in this chapter! This post is... not really about any of that. Have a grab-bag of research notes instead.

Blizzards were introduced in 1985, and were a huge hit. Here's an article I found from 1986, and here's a Reddit thread with a vintage Blizzard ad.

Baggage carousels may seem pedestrian now, but they were space-age shit in 1962 when the TWA Flight Center was built at what is now known as JFK International Airport. The TWA Flight Center was apparently not the first airport terminal to have baggage carousels - this report (PDF link) by the New York Landmarks Preservation Commission cites a 1963 article saying carousels already existed in Montreal and San Francisco - but they were still a very new idea.  Before baggage carousels you had to search for your bag in a baggage rack. Like you know how you get those little trucks with a train of baggage carts behind them on the runway? Imagine trying to find your bag in that mess. Anyway, by the time Steve and his mom flew TWA from IND to JFK sometime in the mid-70’s there was probably also a baggage carousel at the airport in Indiana, but Steve would have encountered the one at JFK first. Sure, it’d been around for at least a decade by then, but that really isn’t such a long time, and kids are easily impressed. It may also have been the only time Steve’s ever been on an airplane, despite being a rich kid. Air travel is a lot cheaper and more accessible than it used to be.

Park Slope in Brooklyn was indeed full of lesbians in the 60's and 70's (and beyond). I did a lot of googling when trying to pick a home for Aunt Mary and Daisy, and, well, can’t go wrong with a place some in the community affectionately called ‘Dyke Slope’.

I spent a lot of effort looking for prescription drugs that had both a period-accurate street name and the right kind of pharmacological effects for Steve's case. I eventually settled on Demmies/Demerol (generic name pethidine/meperidine) and confirmed that the slang term existed at the time through Google Books. (If the link doesn't work it was supposed to go to a list on page 375 of a book called Clinical Diagnosis and Management by Laboratory Methods from 1984. Fic research: serious business.)

Smoking is bad for wound healing, score one for Steve.

I don’t specify in the story because Steve’s not likely to notice or care, but in my head Erica is reading Sweet Valley High #2, published 1983.

The Amoco brand name dates back to the 1920’s, and from what I can tell there were gas stations by that name in America until 2001, and then the brand name was reintroduced in 2017? That’s what Wikipedia would have me believe, anyway. Hawkins, like the small town I'm low-key drawing on when I write it, is about 60% gas stations by volume.

Is any of this interesting to anyone? I hope so. I'll keep on typing it up either way, because I can't help it.

[sol1056]

still dead, though

so this is potentially an unpopular opinion, given the love I’ve seen across my dashboard. but I finally (it took like four months, y’all) got to the top of the wait list at my local library to read Gideon the Ninth.

which was a great book (for the most part), don’t get me wrong. Gideon’s voice just sparkles, and even the assorted memes littering scattered through the story didn’t detract (too much). and yes, a baby dyke who glories in attractive women and never once feels compelled to either a) justify her attraction or b) put men down or even c) put other women down (at least not without reason), yeah. totally deserves the kudos. and after starting solidly and undeniably enemies, it’s a believable shift to almost-lovers.

although technically all you actually get is an i-love-you exchange.

that’s it. a paragraph later (not even a whole page!) we get hit with Bury Your Gays (plus some Vasquez Always Dies if we’re counting). 

it somehow just does not help my reaction that the second book is “all about a [queer] character grieving painfully to the point of disassociation.” I’ve read this book, seen this movie, got the t-shirt, lost it all in the lawsuit, and somehow lived to tell the tale. A now-solo lesbian character whose mental state is now so shredded by grief that they’ve effectively gone insane? fuck, you could not write to the letter of the trope harder if you goddamn tried.

I went digging anywhere I could think, to find spoilers. does the dead lesbian come back? was it all a fake-out? she does come back, right? far as I can tell, there are vague-slash-ambiguous comments from the author that the character “is still around!” or words to that effect. and from reader reviews, it appears the character’s “still around” is that her ghost lives on in the survivor’s mind. she apparently makes a ghostly cameo in the 2nd book, and the third book is about a completely different character? idk. I saw no “she’s back!” celebration. what I saw read a lot like when fans are clinging to a few passages and hoping that means eventually it’ll all pay off for them, if they just keep believing.

so. great story, still dead.

oh yes, I’m sure you want to tell me that it works this way for the story! my sweet summer child, it has always “worked this way for the story.” the defense has never been “the author killed off yet another queer”. it’s always been “that’s what the story required” as if the story is some sentient creature that eats dictionaries and spits out cruelty.

don’t waste my time hiding behind passive voice. when an author takes it all the way to the i-love-you then kills the queer, and follows by making the surviving queer go insane, they’re not avoiding the trope, they’ve actively hunted it down and forced it to go to prom with them.

at least have the fucking decency to be honest about that.

and I understand that in a world where there’s just uncounted multitudes of stories with queer characters and the happy endings far outweigh the grieving/insane lesbians mourning their dead, we could possibly, eventually, have a story that honestly explores grief and loss and not have it slam down hard on the big red button of sixty-plus years of literary trauma.

but we don’t yet live in that world, and I am sick to death of authors playing the trope word-for-word but batting their eyelashes like they’re special enough to be exempt. how could anyone be mad at them, their intentions are good, they’re friends with their fans, y’know, now you’re just overreacting.

look, I get you didn’t wake up this morning planning to run over a pedestrian, but you still hit me, and all your good intentions don’t make it not hurt.

le sigh.

I really wish I’d been spoiled before I’d started, so I would’ve known to skip. these stories are never enough to offset the suckerpunch at the end.

[goldendot3x]

Gap the Series finale thoughts and spoilers and feelings

Aaaaaaaaa, what an ending! Love it! There’s tears, laughter and drama. And a bit of a lecture. Lol

Mon slowly coming to the acceptance that break-up is imminent but cannot let go of the love she has for Sam. Watching the slow break up hurts so much. But goddamnit they did it in a beautiful way. Both at Sam’s house and also when she’s taking down The Sam Shrine.

Sam. I love you. I truly do. You are my blorbo, my sad little meow meow and my mess of a lesbian. But, for fuck sake, answer that damn phone! Or at least text back! Urgghhh (But I do understand why you’re being stupid right now and that is exactly why I love you)

I love The Gang. I truly do. All queers should have one group of friends like that. And they are so supportive of Mon it’s heartwarming. Their heart broke the same time as Mon’s does.

TeeYuki acknowledgement. Finally. And Tee, I love all your outfits. Why are you so handsome and dapper.

Neung oh Neung. Aside from Sam, you’re also an epitome of a traumatized child that still love their parents figure despite everything. I get you. I get you on so many levels.

Tee, stop trolling Jim. But don’t, actually. I love that you will troll and burn your friends mercilessly.

Kirk. Oh Kirk. Only NOW you realised it? Fuck you. I still hate you. You will never be redeemable in my eyes.

Evil Grandmother. Now upgraded to Disliked Grandmother.

Mon, how can you look so gorgeous while going through a heartbreak? Don’t believe Tee when she said you look awful.

It is true, Sam only bends her head and knees to 2 people. Grandma and Mon.

Disliked Grandmother, why does it needs 2 men to tell you about it before you believe about Sam’s happiness and stop controlling her life? Your 3 grandchildren have been telling you about it for years and years. The thing is, I totally understand where she is coming from. But damn it I still hate what she represents. Also, her relationship dynamics with Sam might hit too close to home.

Fuck, they both love each other so much.

Fuck. It’s the cheap jewelleries. She can’t let go. Sam still loves Mon so damn much.

I guess watching your grandchild slowly withering away is more sobering than suddenly receiving a phone call that another of your grandchild is in an accident, huh grandma? Still, I kinda get it, in a way. Song’s passing is sudden. And she did not know or have met Ice. In contrast, Sam’s withering away is slow and in front of her eyes. And she met Mon. And she has seen how Sam is when she’s with Mon. Also, Sam is her favourite grandchild, so it might be different.

Khun Phoom. A bit in-your-face-lecture there. I was expecting him to introduce Grandma to his boyfriend or something. Lol.

I understand why there is a need for the Khun Phoom character. Sometimes, people like grandma, that cares about status, what people say and what not, requires people that is on her level or higher to show and say those things before she can believe and accept it.

Grandma: just don’t be inappropriate in Public

Sam: proceeds to drive like a racecar driver, then becoming a road bully, then asking the love of her life to accept her back, at roadside mind you, and then proceeds to kiss her in full view of everyone that is driving on that stretch of the road (and any pedestrians if any)

Sam is wearing Pink!!!!

Sam, maybe you should start that convo with Mon by saying your wedding with Kirk is off. You really need to attend communication skills class.

Mon honey. Why don’t you ask Sam to follow you to England? But yeah I get it. I also did not apply to a job in Australia when my ex said it’ll be far from her so I can’t judge you there Mon.

Kirk and Khun Phoom 👀👀👀

(Alas, it is implied it’ll be Kirk + Kade)

Kade, honey. Kirk is The Guy you have been bashing with your friends. Please re-consider.

I love the song!!!!!

It is really the kind of ending that fits the overall mood of this series.

[dramalets]

A rec list for Bee (and whomever else might want to partake) @somethingnastyinthewoodshed

Pesto pasta tier; Consider these for your next picks.

The Eclipse - ‘Mystery’ (It’s not really) First & Khao’s first main role as pair. Great performances from both and a great side cast. Silly bounce off the wall kiss that is A+. 

The Warp Effect - Sex comedy but done correctly. Have literally never ever seen this kind of comedy done this well. Amazing performances all round, name a queer perspective and theres probably rep for it. 

Moonlight Chicken - Vibes in a show. Earth & Mix do soft, gentle pining so bloody well and it’s gripping. Honestly just a gorgeous queer found family story that examines what it is to be both dirt poor and gay. 

Bad Buddy - A silly BL premise but done delightfully. The friends are a little annoying but you get used to them. Good commentary on the burdens parents can leave us with. Ohm & Nanon are fantastic. 

Like in the movies - Another from the Phillipines. Just breathtaking. Ends bittersweet, which some didnt love, but it’s a beautiful journey and the Ben&Ben ost is sublime.

Not Me - The premise of this is so dumb but it really works. Essentially a story about a funky little, anti-establishment found family who want the world to work for everyone. First is fantastic in this and it’s rare I give Off his flowers but he deserves them for this. 

Chicken stew tier; Don’t overlook but maybe next

Gameboys - Two cuties fall in love over the computer during covid. That’s a simple sum up but it’s a lot more than that. The philippines really put out some great BL during covid and this is one of them.

Pearl Next Door - The f/f sidekick to gameboys but not set during covid. Realistic feeling lesbian drama and all the girls are a delight. On YouTube.

A Tale of a 1000 stars - Another bizarre shouldn’t work concept that does. Much like Moonlight Chicken it’s a lot of episodes of Earth & Mix pining but they do it so well that it’s just very very watchable. 

Be my favourite - For me, this is pesto pasta tier. But I think for most it’ll be chicken stew. I like feeling enveloped in a universe and this does that well. The most beautiful, artfully filmed first time I’ve seen in recent years.  Never Let Me Go - Beautiful to look at. Has some really great scenes and the performances pulled from such young actors are sublime. But I also felt this was a bit wishy washy. Didn’t know what tone it wanted so it tried to hit all of them.

Cold Pizza tier; Good, worth it. But also not worth rushing on. 

Hello Stranger - Another Phillipino covid released drama. (Doesn’t have covid as a theme though) Mico & Xavier are in the same class but aren’t friends, have to come together for a class project. It sounds pedestrian but it was done really well and Mico’s little gang of nerd friends are fab. 

My Engineer - Compared to every other thing I put on this list this is low, low quality lol. There is zero budget, a bad dub and tropes out the ass. But it makes me smile every time I’ve rewatched it. 

2gether/Still 2gether - I’m not a fan of 2gether tbh. It’s fine. I find Tine annoying. Still 2gether was much better as it was basically just the original couple solving the issues of their dumb friends. These are mostly here because its one everyone will tell you to watch. 

Why R U? - Again, a significant downturn in production quality here but that was largely thanks to covid. Very tropey. Questionable in a lot of ways but again, induces smiles and Saint & Zee have silly amounts of chemistry. 

Boys Lockdown - Love in the time of covid basically. Enjoyable. Nothing I’d rush for especially given it’s heavy heavy covid theming.

[girlcatsupreme]

Thoughts on the following: NTR, Cows, and yandere?

With NTR it depends. It's kinda hit or miss so I'm mostly neutral on it. The idea of cucking a cishet girl by turning her boyfriend into a girl and fucking her can be fun or the classic of turning someone's straight girl into a lesbian. In practice this tends to be executed pretty shit a lot so 🤷‍♀️.

Yandere is kinda whatever for me. Bit too pedestrian. Kinda reddit quite often.

Cows are big thumbs up 👍

[saynotoshityouhate]

Chaos

Summary: Everyone was convinced you’d never meet your match. That was, until you got the literal kick to the head of a lifetime. 

Word Count: 1726

Tags/Warnings: alcohol, possible concussion, slight illegal behavior, just a little smutty

I’m feeling chaotic, let’s go dancing. Who’s in?

Your friends were used to you starting craziness as soon as you clocked out on Friday afternoon. You were sure they all got your text and rolled their eyes, but they were stuck with you at this point. 

You got all ready - glam but also comfortable - you never knew where the night was going to go. Last time you went out, you ended up dancing until 2am, and then watching the sunrise from the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse. You weren’t sure how many of these weekends you had left - your friends had started settling down and were less enthusiastic about joining you in your shenanigans. They all had tried (and failed) to set you up with their boyfriend’s friends - unable to find someone who could match your energy. But at the same time, you loved your life. You could do anything you wanted, whenever you wanted. You were financially stable, had a good job, a nice apartment...you weren’t really looking for anyone or anything to come in and change things. 

You met the girls at the club, wearing the dress that made you feel most confident, paired with your worn in Converse high tops. “HEY BITCHES!” You gave each friend big sloppy kisses on both cheeks. They handed you a drink - you were last to arrive, as usual. “Y/N, I was just telling the girls about the engagement party my future mother-in-law is planning. You wouldn’t believe how tacky it is going to be! The invitations alone…” You cut her off after pounding your drink, and pointed to the dance floor. “I’m gonna go there now. Bye!” Setting your empty glass on the nearest table, you ran over to the middle of the dance floor. 

You loved the feeling of the stereo bass pumping in your chest. The ringing in your ears blocking out your inhibitions as you moved your body without care, your skin lit up in colors and sparkles. Here, in this moment, you were truly happy. Not a care in the world. No thoughts in your head saying you were unworthy of the love your friends had found. Complete and full contentment at the life you had chosen for yourself. And it was then that you received a swift kick to the side of your head. 

A few seconds later, you opened your eyes to see the hazel eyes of a wild haired, sweaty man. “Fuuucking hell, kid! I thought for sure you were dead. Are you alright?” You blinked up at him and nodded, unsure how you got to be flat on your back in the first place. “I’m so sorry, I was carrying my best lesbian friend on my shoulders, and when we spun around, her fucking foot hit you in the head.” He wipes his hand down his shirt before handing it to you, helping you up off the floor. The man was tall, dressed in a hilarious mismatch of clothes, with a mop of brown hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead, partially covering his eyes. He sported a patchy moustache/goatee combo which brought your attention to his plush, pink lips. 

He leaned down to look you directly in your eyes, examining them closely. “I don’t think you have a concussion...are you sure you’re alright?” You took a deep breath. “Yes. Totally. Super duper alright. All good.” He chuckled a deep laugh, showing off his imperfectly perfect teeth. “Awesome. I’m Adam - we’re going to go find shit to throw off the overpass. Wanna come?” You nodded enthusiastically, never having been this lost for words in your life. He grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the bar, barely giving you the chance to smile or wave at your friends as you exited. 

Adam and his friends brought you all across the city. Finding items to keep or to toss, literally, off of the highway overpass. Your group steadily dwindled as you explored the city’s hidden pockets, eventually leaving you, Adam, and a reusable grocery bag full of spare car parts and rotten vegetables alone on the pedestrian bridge that crossed the city’s busiest highway. Standing together, you looked upon the city skyline, standing proudly against a dark sky that was littered with stars. It was your favorite view. Feeling Adam’s gaze on you, you turned to look up at him. “Everything okay?” you asked, unsure why he was making such a face. “Yeah, kid, just making sure you’re not gonna have a seizure or somethin’ dumb.” He chewed the inside of his cheek as he resumed looking at the city. 

With the early morning hour, there wasn’t a ton of good targets to toss your garbage at. “Wanna split a pizza?” You asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Adam smiled and nodded, giving you the chance get him back for earlier, to grab his hand and run. You took the long way, zig zagging through dark alleys, running up and down stairs, eventually landing at your favorite, hole in the wall 24-hour pizza parlor. “Jimmy!!!!” You squealed are the shop owner, waving at him and jumping up and down. The proprietor groaned, pushing himself out of his chair and walked up to the window. “What can I getcha, y/n...and friend?” Adam smiled at Jimmy, and then you, and then Jimmy again. Nervously laughing and still trying to catch his breath, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Anything but fucking green peppers,” you both said, almost simultaneously. Jimmy rolled his eyes and headed back to the kitchen. 

“Jimmy’s the best. He almost single handedly fed me all through my senior year of college. I was building this Trojan Horse out of Amazon boxes inside my apartment and I couldn’t access my kitchen because it was full of boxes so…” Adam grabbed your face, pulling you in for a rough kiss, his pillowy lips absorbing the blow. Your eyes were wide open, arms limp at your side. Sensing you weren’t reciprocating, Adam pulled back, hands still on your face. “I’m building a boat in my apartment right now, gonna sail down the Hudson. I’ve never met anyone like you before, like me - someone who could keep up with me and not be some fucking loser.” Adam looked deep into your eyes. “We were meant to meet tonight, Y/N. I was supposed to hit you in the head with my best lesbian friend.” Adam squeezed his large hands together, smooshing your face. “Fuck the pizza, come see my boat.” 

Jimmy walked up at that moment, pizza box in tow. “No, no fucking my pizza. Here - on the house - now get out of here. And y/n, I don’t want to find this pizza on some roof or in a tree or whatever the fuck you’re planning on doing tonight.” You turned your head towards Jimmy, with Adam’s help, and said through your smooshed face “Fanks Jummy.” Grabbing the pizza, you looked back up at Adam. Adam moved your head up and down, speaking in a high pitched voice “Yes, Adam, I’d love to see your boat!” Looking down at you with a cheesy grin, you started to laugh. “Fwine, but wet go uf my fwace.” Adam flailed his arms into the air. “Well let’s fucking go, kid!” 

Adam wasn’t kidding, he really was building a boat in his living room. It was the coolest thing you’ve ever seen. “Are these old pallets? Is that a fisherman’s knot? Did you repurpose 2x4s from…” “Whoa whoa y/n don’t get a lady boner over my awesome ass boat!” Your eyes were sparkling, climbing over piles of wood and fabric and an overused power strip. “When is she going to be ready to sail?” you asked, your voice giving away your excitement. “Why,” Adam stalked towards you, backing you up against the mast, “wanna be my sexy first mate?” Your heart was beating through your chest. This wasn’t your average one night stand, this was different - you could tell. This wasn’t the plan. But you couldn’t deny that he was your match. He was right, you were meant to meet tonight. You took a deep, shaky breath, looking into Adam’s eyes. “Aye, aye, captain.” 

Adam growled, wrapping his arms underneath your bottom and lifting you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, squealing in surprise. He slammed your body harder against the boat’s mast, shoving his tongue into your mouth and squeezing your ass as he ground his rock hard erection into your pelvis. You lifted one hand from his neck, reaching down to unbutton his jeans, the slightest graze of your fingers causing Adam’s hips to thrust. The energy of that motion cracked the fragile integrity of the mast, causing Adam to fall forwards, landing on top of you, the broken splinters of wood scratched along your back. 

You both groaned. “Fuck, kid, you ok? How’s your head?” Opening up to the same concerned, hazel gaze from earlier in the evening, you replied “Yep. Super duper.” That was good enough for Adam, who stood up quickly, ripping his jeans and underwear down, kicking his legs for assistance. You lifted your hips to shimmy your own panties down to your ankles. Adam returned to his place between your legs. Looking up at him with a grin, you laughed “ahoy, matey. shiver me timbers.” Adam grunted - “you’re so fucking weird, and so fucking wet,” he ran two fingers through your slick, “and just for me.” You whined, moving your hips to meet his hand.  “Gotta make sure you’re ready for me. Gunna drop anchor in this hot cunt.”

Adam spent the rest of the night straddled over your back, where you laid on your stomach on his bed. Using a tweezer, he removed the hundreds of tiny splinters that had embedded themselves into your skin. You sighed contentedly, taking a large sip of milk, unsure what the future held. But for the first time, in a long time, the thought of sharing that future with someone didn’t make you sick to your stomach. You turned your head to take a look at him, wearing lab safety goggles “in case one flew out at him.” Smiling, you rested your head on his pillow, before falling asleep and dreaming of sailing down the Hudson together. 

[jackalllope]

bi and ready to cri

pan and ready to kick the can

gay and not okay

straight and i haven't ate

lesbian and ready to hit a pedestrian

ace with a horrible face

[razorblade180]

Father’s Day

[Lasting embers au]

Jael is sleeping soundly in her bed until she feels something putting pressure on her arm. Slowly she stirs awake to Adam by her bed in his typical disguise. His hair laid down and temporarily dyed black, tented shades for the scar, and more pedestrian clothing. Jael carefully rubbed her eyes. It was nighttime judging by the light in her room.

Jael:Dad? I didn’t know you were coming home so soon. How was the mission?

Adam:Nothing worth talking about. It’s passed midnight, happy Father’s Day.

Jael:...I think you have this backwards.

Adam:Hehe, little bit but for good reason. Get dressed we’re leaving Menagerie.

Jael:...WH-*mouth covered*

Adam:Ssshh, your mother doesn’t know; I’ll apologize later. I already visited Sienna at her boot camp so don’t worry about you hogging me for the day.

Jael:Where are we going? And how exactly does this count as me giving you a present?

Adam:I get to spend time with my fourteen year old daughter doing something new.

He could see the happiness in her eyes when he said those words. Jael really was simple girl. All she ever wanted was time with him and he felt the same. She hopped out of bed and gently floated down. Jael wasn’t sure what he had planned but getting to leave Menagerie was enough. Finally, a chance to see the outside world.

Several hours have passed since they snuck out. Jael dozed in and out of sleep while on the ride in the airship, barely remembering it. Only that leaning on her father was strangly comfortable and Neo was flying the airship.

Now she rested on his back while he and Neo jumped from rooftop to rooftop in what looked to be Vacou from what books told her about the place. Jael wanted to walk around but apparently Adam didn’t want her to see the chattering streets yet.

Jael:Still haven’t explained why we are here. Not that I’m complaining.

Neo:Patience, baby goat. The sun will rise any minute now. Also you have me to thank for telling your father about this event.

Jael:Event?

Adam:Father’s day falls on a special day this year for Vacou. When Neo told me about it I knew I had to bring you. This spot should do.

He bent down to let Jael get off then got behind her. She’d be lying if she said her curiosity was running rapid; he seemed proud of himself by the way he spoke. Slowly he adjusted her to a spot that overlooked everything but it was still a little too dark to see.

Then...sunrise hit. Light slowly grew over the land and what couldn’t be seen before quickly became visible, leaving Jael speechless. The buildings, the people, the very sand, it was all bathed in color. Multiple colors that belonged on a spectrum she had told him she was apart of a few months prior. Jael was looking at a huge Pride Parade.

Her gaze on it was finally broken when she felt weight of something draped over her. Jael could barely hold back her tears as she wrapped the flag around her tighter and turned around to see Adam smiling and Neo putting on face paint; the bisexual colors if Jael remembered correctly.

Jael:I...I don’t know what say right now.

Adam:A few months ago you came to me terrified, not sure what I would think if you told me you were lesbian. Remember what I said?

Jael:You were happy you didn’t have scare any boy?

Neo:Oh my god.

Adam:Okay, I did say that, but after I said...

Jael:*smiles* Your love for me as my father is on every spectrum.

Adam:No you know how serious those words are. I love you.

He opened his arms and Jael quickly ran to be embraced by them, happily shedding her tears of joy. Definitely not a conventional Father’s Day gift, but it’s the best one yet.

xxxx

Ren was having a calm morning. For the pass two weeks Nora and Tenzen had been gone on some camping trip so his days had been quiet. A little lonely but he could handle it. He knew today they’d be back. They didn’t say they would but if he knew his family...

Nora:*opens door* We’re home!

16 yo Tenzen:Yeah!!! Happy Father’s Day!

No way they would miss today. Both of them were dirty, unusually dirty. Specially their hands and knees seemed extra worn out.

Ren:You two okay? You both could’ve washed up before rushing back. Honestly it wouldn’t have bothered me if you came back halfway through the day.

Nora:Don’t worry about us. Nothing is too much when it comes to spoiling you.

Tenzen:She’s right, we’d move mountains for you. Or in this case...rubble.

Ren looked confused by Tenzen’s words. The boy reached into his bag and pulled out a wrapped present to hand to his father. It was small and rectangular; too thin to be a book Ren thought. He unwrapped it gently and gasped when the paper was finally removed. Tears instantly came from him.

Nora and a Tenzen took the opportunity to stand on each side of him and hug tightly. They smelled like the great outdoors but he didn’t care. Why would he when they had just given him a picture of his mother and father holding a infant version of himself. All that rubble that must’ve buried it, and it remained okay. He took ahold of their tired hands and held them close to his chest.

Ren:Thank you...

Tenzen:Like mom said...

Nora:Nothing will ever be too much.

xxxx

Jaune was having his own emotional moment. It wasn’t unlike Yujin to try and do something creative but this time, she went big.

Currently he stood on his porch and stared at the fifteen year old girl who wore her ‘Proof Jaune Arc Got Laid” t-shirt like she did every year, but that wasn’t the amazing part. What had him speechless was the dozens of family members that stood behind her. Yujin managed to get them all the way to patch.

Jaune:Wh..what’s all this about?

Yujin:I had them all show up so you couldn’t dispute what I’m about to say. Dad, Jaune Arc, I owe you so much. Yes it takes a villages to raise a kid and I know you had plenty of help but that doesn’t change that you were always in my corner. Me, the girl who refused to open up to you sometimes; who truly deserved strong lecturers for her attitude instead of the hugs you decided to give. Every single day you gave me so much love and affection above what I thought possible in order to make up for mom. All the kisses, hugs, late night talks, t-tears....

Her voice started choking up and her eyes began to water as she kept speaking.

Yujin:When I was at my lowest and filled with anger you never lost your patience with me. Instead you made sure I continued to eat and gave me space to go through it all. Then the moment I called for you, there you were, by my side ready to talk. Almost sixteen years of living in that house filled with love has gone by and I just need you to know that even as I get older, act like I might have everything figured out, and go off to Beacon soon thanks to your training. I’m always going to be your little girl and I love you from the very bottom of my heart. So can you please shut me up right now and hug me.

Jaune:*sniffling*You can run over here anytime.

Yujin ran up the porch steps and gave Jaune the biggest hug she’s ever given, crying ever so slightly as he rubbed the back of her head. He could hear the clapping and tears from his many family members, but noticed one thing. No Tai. He felt a sudden surge of warmth as he saw through his watery eyes the main in question through the trees, hugging his own daughters who should be hundreds of miles away.

As if by instinct, both girls looked in his direction, also emotional. He knew they couldn’t stay. That Raven most likely opened a portal so they can have a moment with Tai who would’ve been sad not seeing them. Yang looked at him lovingly as she watched him hold their daughter. “I love you” could be easily read from her lips and smile on her face as he mouthed it back. Then, they left. He thought it best not to tell Yujin. He knew Yang would eventually be able to come home, that Yujin would see her mother again. Until then, he’d continue giving his daughter enough love to make up the difference.

Jaune:Yujin, thank you for being my daughter. I know your mother would say the same.

[Twin Snowflakes au]

Valerie:Hey dad, I need your opinion on something. Can you come in the living room for a second?

Ren:Sure thing. What’s-

Right in in the middle of the room were two game pads and Valerie in baggy shorts and a green tank top. Ren looked at the tv flashing DDR in neon colors.

Valerie:So I was in town and found this game store selling this pretty old game. Apparently on two player it’s supposed to be really fun and competitive so I got to thinking.... I bet dad wouldn’t mind a few rounds.

Ren:Nora has been talking about the old days again?

Valerie:Perhaps, so, think you can show your daughter a thing or two? The apple might not far too fall from the tree. Happy Father’s Day.

Ren:*smiles* Don’t cry when I blow you out of the water. Loser pays for dinner.

Valerie:You’re on.

xxxx

Qrow quietly reads a book at the dining room table like usual during lunch time when suddenly, he feels eyes on him. He puts the book down to see Winter and Sparrow quietly sitting down at the table with their own books. The only difference is the fancy glasses have been placed by each of them, along with a bottle in Sparrows hand.

Qrow:Is that....?

Sparrow:A bottle of the most expensive rum, made only in Salem’s previous territory? Why yes it is.

Winter:The same rum that can only be acquired after slaying countless grimm. Now I know I typically discourage you from spirits and don’t drink myself, but Sparrow is twenty one and did all of this for you. I think that deserves a toast.

Sparrow:Happy Father’s Day pops. Cheers!

Qrow looked at two pour him a glass before raising there’s with excitement. Was getting to drink with him this exciting? He couldn’t help but feel flattered and raised his as well with renewed vigor. A drink with family, now that sounded pretty nice.

Qrow:Cheers!

xxxx

Breakfast was in the air at the Schnee Manor. It might’ve been his special day but that didn’t n make anybody suddenly a cooking genius so Jaune was flipping the pancakes like usual. Weiss and Summer were a little red with embarrassment as they shifted around in their Pumpkin Pete onesies he had gotten them years ago.

Jaune:You know you don’t have to wear those every year right?

Weiss:You can’t say that when you smile really big whenever you see us in it.

Summer:We’ll stop when you stop caring, so never.

Jaune:That’s a present all by itself.

Summer:Well prepare for two more. I got something for my number one fan and teacher.

Weiss went around the corner and pulled out a white and yellow electric guitar with his symbol on it. Jaune nearly flipped the pancake too high, he was actually shocked. If she bought that then it meant one thing...

Summer:Let’s go around performing for people and putting smiles on faces today. A father and daughter duet!

Jaune:If this is the first present then what could possibly be the second one?

Weiss:Months ago your kids helped raise some extra money for Argus and Vale. Now Remnant has two Pyrrha statues, both in beautiful condition.

Jaune could feel his heart swell up. Weiss walked over and turned off the burner while he processed that info. A smile came across his face as he hugged both of his lovely women tightly.

Summer:Happy Father’s Day. Nick-

Jaune:He told me earlier before he left. I’m proud of what he’s doing.

Weiss:Summer, why don’t you go wash up and get dressed so you’ll be ready to go after breakfast.

Summer:Sweet! I can take this off. Love you dad! *runs off*

Jaune:Today is a good day.

Weiss:It gets better. You actually have three presents.

Her face turns a brighter red as she grabs ahold of his, making him tug on the zipper slightly. Jaune nearly chokes on his own breath as he discovers Weiss is only wearing the onesie. He regains composer and teasingly makes her yelp by slipping his hand though.

Weiss:*crimson* Happy...Daddy’s Day...

Jaune:....*puts her on the counter*

Weiss:Jaune there is food out!

Jaune:I’ll make more...

xxxx

At there other estate, Nick warmly embraces Whitley while clutching gifts he didn’t even get the chance to give yet. The older man can only hug him tighter and hold some tears.

Whitley:This means more than you can imagine.

Nick:As far as I’m concerned, you’ve always been a second dad instead of an uncle. Happy Father’s Day.

[Premonition]

Lucas sat silently on the the Belladonna steps watching the crescent moon. The cool air making its way from the sea brushed passed his face and put the boy at ease. Moment’s later he heard approaching footsteps get louder before stopping next to him, his caring father took a seat.

Jaune:Waiting for Blake to get back from her meeting?

Lucas:Nah, I needed fresh air. You always get antsy whenever I step aside.

Jaune:It’s a miracle every time I can get you off the couch and into town. Let me guess, you knew I’d come to you if you walked outside.

Lucas:Yep, all part of my master play.

Jaune:To what?

Lucas:Tell you Happy Father’s Day. You know I’m not really good at this sort thing but... here.

He lifted up a small bag by his feet and gave it Jaune. The knight grabbed the bag and instantly let out a chuckle the moment he felt the box. He wasted no time pulling out the cereal box that honestly surprised him on closer expectation. Jaune Arc....was on the box, he was on the box!

Lucas:I may have told mom how crazy it was that a hero like yourself wasn’t on his favorite cereal box and got a good petition going around. Pretty cool huh?

Jaune:You...I...what!? Hell yeah it’s cool! Honestly I thought the plan was stargazing and that would’ve been fine.

Lucas:So why not both? Cereal and stargazing.

Jaune:I say...I’ll go grab the milk.

Lucas:I’ll get two bowls.

Blake:Make it three!

The two gentlemen looked down to see Blake walking up the steps. Jaune quickly walked down and gave her a thank you kiss.

Blake:I wouldn’t mind eating the “breakfast of champions” right now. Especially with that hero on the box.

Jaune:Aww you spoil me.

Lucas:Hehe, three bowls it is.

[Rosebud]

Jaune: That was dangerous!

Carmine:I know.

Jaune:You could’ve been killed!

Carmine:But I wasn’t!

The two have been liked this for hours. They had gone on a mission together where the point was to evacuate a village under attack. All lives successfully saved fortunately, but it was a close call.

In a lapse of judgement, Carmine had abandoned the her responsibilities to help Jaune with a Goliath that gave him trouble and she had gotten work hurt in the process. If it weren’t for his semblance, she’s sure her ribs would be broken right now.

Ruby had managed to calm them both down and split them up, Carmine opting to go outside. This should be the last day to be arguing. Jaune sat quietly at the table and watched Ruby get closer to hold his hand.

Jaune:She could’ve been killed...

Ruby:Yeah but from the sound of it, losing you today was possible as well. In either scenario, I would’ve been devastated.

Jaune:What’s a greater loss?

Ruby:Don’t even try to put that on a set of scales. Everyday we look at her and worry but I’m not gonna pretend Carmine and I don’t hold our breath when we see you endanger as well; don’t act like you don’t do it for me.

Jaune:...

Ruby:Sometimes our nerves get the better of us. We know that all of us can handle things but yet we find ourselves calling out to each other while rushing in. I don’t she’ll ever say it but... I’m sure she’s scared sometimes. She’s sixteen after all.

Jaune:Yeah, sometimes I forget that. She used to fit in my hands for crying out loud. Taking her on missions is still a little unnerving.

Ruby:Give her time. I’m sure-

The door opened and caught their attention. They hadn’t realized Carmine took Garnet outside too. The adorable four year old excitedly pointed outside. Ruby rushing over before he tired himself out.

Suddenly she alone started pointing and looked amazed. Jaune was left no choice but to take a look, he glad he did. The front yard was filled with white and yellow roses shaped in the Arc crest. Carmine was kneeling in middle of her work tired and with her sword stabbed in the ground.

Carmine:Do you remember...when you I asked you how to be a knight all those years ago?

Jaune:I do. I said, I said I wasn’t sure. That I never really thought of myself as a good example of one.

Carmine:I’ve thought about that a lot recently. You gave me such an unexpected answer. How could you not know when I’ve seen you been so kind. The way you fight for us, your loyalty to your family, empathy, wisdom, courage; I saw it all. Then I realized, maybe I was really asking how I could be more like you?

Jaune:...

Carmine:We’re different. Our thought process, opinions, etc. I’m beginning to think maybe I can never hold those qualities like you. Which really...frustrates me. Because dad, you are my ideal knight! I know I messed up and-

He walked towards her, unsheathing his sword on the way. Jaune stared at his visibly tired daughter. How often did he see this strong and capable fighter express her woes so freely? Ruby was right, he must’ve really scared her. Jaune lifted his sword and tapped it on each of her shoulders.

Jaune:Carmine...were you scared today? Of losing me?

Carmine:What kind of question is that?

Tears ran down her face. Jaune knelt down and captured her in a hug.

Jaune:I’m sorry...

Carmine:I’m sorry too. Dad I...I love you okay? So please, don’t scare me like that and I won’t scare you. Deal?

Jaune:It’s a deal. And don’t worry about being like me. I do what can do, so you can be like yourself. I know it’ll be just as great.

Ruby held Garnet close and watched two of the most stubborn people on her life hug it out. As far as she was concerned, they were both perfect, as knights or otherwise. They cared about each other. What could be more perfect than that.

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 548, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:

Happy 62nd birthday, green man. You are surely missed.

WORDS: 1171

“So tell me Miss Katie- do you have a handsome boy friend in your life?”

I wrinkled my nose at the hair stylist’s rude question, but Katie’s snark and blunt humor made me smile.

“I’m ten years old.” Her hair covered her face, however I knew that she was throwing the otherwise nosey man a withering look. “That is way too young to be thinking about men. Besides, you’re too old for me.”

I burst out into loud laughter at her dry sense of humor.

The hair stylish chuckled awkwardly and I pulled up the business’ Yelp page.

1.7 stars out of 5 stars.

I tapped on the first review, which gave the shop a 1 star review.

The shop is ran and operated by one person, and he was rude and intrusive- do I have a boyfriend (I’m a lesbian) is the s3x good (I’m not interested in men in that way) am I on my monthly moon cycle (why do you want to know) is the flow heavy (MIND YOUR OWN DAMNED BUISINESS) every single time I would call him out on his creepy behavior, he would always claim that being a newcomer to America was weird, that American got weirdly offended at every little thing SMH this man is a joke to society

I frowned, turning my phone on and casually pointing it towards where Katie was having her hair cut.

“I am ten years old, and what’s it to you if I had my period yet?” Katie snapped. “You are very rude!”

“These kind of questions are not rude in my home country. Americans are so easy to offend!”

“Well then, why don’t you just return back there then?” Katie demanded to know in a hot tone of voice.

I immediately started to look for the nearest haircut establishment and found one four doors down.

I looked up just as the hair stylist was trying to show Katie a picture of someone.

“He would make a wonderful husband for you- he loves cats!”

“Sir, that’s enough.” I stood straight up and marched over to my daughter. “Katie, remove your cape at one. We’re taking our business elsewhere.”

I quickly gathered her up before we left, my cell phone still recording. I ushered her over towards the hair salon that I found, the both of us entering the fun, hip establishment.

“Hi there! Do you have an appointment?”

“We came from right down the street, and-” I started to explain.

“Say no more. I can take you back now. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Katie jumped up into a chair, having a cape tossed around her.

“I’m having my hair turned into a wig for my sister!” she explained. “She has Alopecia!”

“Have you heard of the New York Alopecia Society?”

“We have, yes,” I said, settling myself into a seat nearby. “It’s where we will send her hair once it’s cut.”

“Well, you’ll need to have at least eight ounces of hair measuring ten inches or more from tip to end. I should know as how I myself have Alopecia.”

“You do?” Katie asked, delight in her eyes as the woman removed her wig for Katie to examine.

“I do, yes.” The hair stylist took her into the back to wash her hair, and I posted the video that I had recorded of the inappropriate little man at Little Haircut Inc. up onto my Instagram.

@Mary_Claire_Ratajczyk_Official, well Katie decided that she wanted a haircut, and this was the man who did her hair… at @littlehaircutinc

#SMH #umprofessional #rudelittleman #blamingamericanculture #incel #wtf #NOTMYDAUGHTERBITCH

@kellykent, EW GROSS

@petesteele4ever, toxic masculinity at its finest. I am so sorry that you went through this.

@Pete­r_Steele===========8) LOL Peter would lose his SHIT when you tell him about this clusterfuck of a human being!

@john316, hey there! We would love to partner with you and have you help us spread the word about our LORD AND SAVIOR, JESUS CHRIST THE LORD! Send us a DM for more info!

@chocolaterobotchicken, ATTA GIRL KATIE! MAKE THAT FUCKING JACKASS FEEL THE BURN OF YOUR WORDS

@lzziegreen, if that fucking creep feels the need to be a fucking creep, then he SHOULD go back to his home country!

I smirked at the result of the shop owner of Little Haircuts Inc. being inappropriate towards my daughter, the FaceBook and Instagram quickly being swamped by Type O Negative fans and PeteClaire shippers who were infuriated at the salon owner’s inappropriate behavior with Katie.

“Karma is a bitch, you fucking pathetic little man,” I muttered before turning back to Katie and the hairdresser, who had introduced herself as Sally. Sally was leading Katie off to have her hair washed again, my daughter handing her back her wig.

“Well, Asian people naturally have thinner hair then what’s normally required to have a wig made. In that case, what will you do?”

“I think I’ll ask some friends of mine at school if they can give me their hair!” Katie was grinning as Sally did a quick wash, her fingers gently massaging moisturizing conditioner into her scalp.

“Ah, okay!” Sally was smiling as she dried the Asian American girl’s jet black hair right before helping her up and back into the chair. “Now, what haircut do you want me to do?”

“Mommy?” Katie asked me, summoning me to quickly find the picture of the haircut that Katie had fallen in love with. Layered waves of dark brown were cut to brush the shoulders of the smiling model.

“Ah, okay then!” Sally grinned as she set Katie’s hair into a ponytail and did a quick check in before she performed the first snip.

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

[bloodieorchid]

Cafe Rouge - CH 2

Cafe Rouge - Chapter Two : Cortado

Next ->

<- Last

<- First

A college student finds a job at an elusive coffee and book shop after the disappearance of the past barista. Only after the interview and many confidentiality agreements do you begin to learn the secrecy behind Café Rouge.

YANDERE MALE x READER, YANDERE FEMALE X READER, YANDERE NB X READER

CW: This story will contain dark subject matter regarding stalking, abuse, violence, the yandere tag in general, and more to be added as this story is written and updated. I, as a writer, do NOT condone any of the activities in this story and only seek to write a horror romance. All pronouns are gender neutral so everyone can read and imagine themselves in the story.

         “Now, you need to steam the milk off center so it makes a vortex,” Knight called out as you cupped your hands around the silver milk pitcher. “Hold the handle, but touch the bottom. Once it gets too hot to hold anymore, you’re done.” Knight called and the steam wand powered on, roaring and whistling like a train going under a bridge. Your fingers felt the temperature rise and grow until it burned and you quickly turned off the steam wand. Knight walked over, whirling the milk in the picture and hitting it against the wood counter of the bar. 

        Knight took a shot of espresso and poured it into a small glass, slightly larger than a shot glass. He then filled it with the steamed milk, pouring slowly to allow the milk to make designs on the surface. He set down the cup to reveal a series of hearts within each other. “That’s how you make a cortado with a rosetta,” Knight smiled as he gave you the cup, letting you sip. It was bitter, but creamy from the steamed milk and slightly sweet. You smiled into the cup. “It’s good, might not be my taste though,” you explained. He nodded. “The first cortado is always an interesting one, but good once you get used to the bitterness,” he explained. 

        The shop had closed down, allowing you to train for the evening and to get grips on the espresso machine. Knight was assisting while Bishop counted the day’s tips and cash drawer. “So, are those all of the usual regulars?” you asked politely while rinsing the cortado glass. “No, we have a couple others, those three or four come in near every day. Willow always comes in to study, but only really stays for an hour or two. Mr. Arnold gets his morning cup of espresso, sometimes he gets a drink to go before he heads to work as a realtor. Then, Mona gets all of the drinks for the Mayor’s office since she’s the new girl over there.” Knight, no Shane explained. 

        “We also have a couple of regulars who only come in when specific baristas work. Mr. Arnold always comes in the mornings around when I come in. There’s another girl named Queen who has a whole crowd of guys who come in the afternoons.” Shane explained as he wiped down the bar and prepped to clean the espresso machine. “No one knows she’s a lesbian though, that’s how she prefers it. She leaves with always close to fifty or a hundred dollars in tips alone,” he commented with a chuckle. “Fifty or a Hundred? In just tips?” you astonishingly called out. “The record for most tips goes to an old barista we used to have called Check. On his last day before graduating, he left with nearly three hundred dollars in tips. The people who come here have their unapologetic favorites. Check even comes in sometimes, he now works down the block for the one of the lawyers in town,” Mr. Bishop called out as he finished counting the money. 

          Mr. Bishop turned around with two pastry bags with the words ‘Rook’ and ‘Knight’ written on them. “Tips for today,” he explained. You gently grabbed your tips before you looked at the large number written in sharpie of ‘64.32′. You stared at the total before nodding and putting it gently back in your bag. “Make sure you be careful on your walk home, Mx. (L/N).” Mr. Bishop called out as you slung your bag over your shoulder. You nodded, “Don’t worry, Mr. Bishop. It’s a straight shot home,” you smiled reassuringly. You couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the owner of the shop, worrying about the safety of all of his employees after what happened to Laura. He nodded. “See you in the morning,” he bid you farewell before turning back into the office. 

          You stepped out of the door, into the light filled street of Ravenswood. You sighed in the fresh air, seeing your breath from the October chill. You wrapped your jacket tighter around you. It wasn’t winter coat season yet, but it was close enough where a jacket was needed. You hurried home, walking along the street and glancing into the windows of fancy restaurants, boutiques, and offices. You glanced at your reflection in the glass, pausing for a moment to see how your cheeks were flushed from the cold and felt warm. You sighed softly, rubbing your hands to your cheeks. 

         Suddenly, you heard a crash to your left. You glanced over to find a dark alley, just barely out of the light of the street. You looked around, the street empty of pedestrians and only one car drove past in the past minutes. You slowly walked to the alleyway, hoping for a cat or something falling out of the window. However, there wasn’t anything in the alley that you could see. You turned on your phone’s flashlight and walked down into the alleyway. You weren’t met with a car or a lost cat jumping to freedom from a fire escape. 

          On the ground below you was a small box, wrapped in newspaper with a black bow. You looked around before picking up the box. You noticed a small tag on the bow, pulling it up to reveal ‘to Rook <3′. You frowned in confusion, standing up before moving the bow and opening the box. Inside, was a single tarot card. 

         There in the box sat card number I, the Fool. A vagabond or explorer traveling into the unknown, unfazed by the dangers. Covered in gold, but a picture of your face had been taped over the Fool’s and your eyes were covered in tape. Accompanying this was a small note tucked underneath. 

        “Travel carefully, little Rook. You wander further and further out of the light. It will be a shame when you find yourself trapped in the darkness. 

                                                Your new admirer, Reti” 

         You held the box in confusion, looking around for a sign of who dropped the box and becoming more and more anxious when - 

         “(Y/N)?”, you turned quickly to reveal your coworker Shane. “What is.....��� he quickly made steps toward you and saw the box and immediately frowned. “We need to show that to Mr. Bishop, now,” he said, looking at you harshly. “D-Do you know who sent this, Shane?” you asked confused. “Someone from the shop, I assume they called you Rook?” he asked. You nodded and handed him the box. “Come on,” he lead you back to the shop and opened the door. 

         “We’re closed,” Mr. Bishop called from the back. “Sir, (Y/N) found another box. It was addressed to ‘Rook’,” Shane called out. Mr. Bishop stepped into the front. “They’ve worked two days.” he said as he walked to the counter. He frowned as he saw the box and squinted at the note. “I don’t understand, who sent this?” you asked, looking at your new boss. 

           “I wanted to let you get settled in before you started to deal with this stuff. Someone from the shop likes you and wants you to know it.” Mr. Bishop frowned as he flipped the tarot card. “This doesn’t exactly seem friendly, Mr. Bishop,” you rebutted and rubbed your cold arms. “It’s not, while the majority of our shop is full of nice people most days, we’ve apparently attracted a clientele of the occult and people who have probably broken the law,” Shane commented while frowning. 

            “Well, it’s simple. We just go to the police, and they find this mystery stalker,” you commented as you stood tall. Mr. Bishop looked at you, “We tried that last time, but whoever took Laura got her after we got the police involved. They didn’t care about attention, they wanted her for some reason.”

           “This means....” 

            “You’ve peaked someone’s interest, (Y/N) and we need to find out who before you end up like Laura,” 

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: THE QUIET + DKLA (Jackie-centric) - Mac

AN: Thanks a million for the feedback on this series! It truly means the world to me. Thank you so much, guys. I hope you enjoy this part as much as the previous ones. As always, thanks to the incredible Meggie for putting up with me and beta-ing this work, she is a superstar, send her some love!

Summary: Jackie is doing her best to keep her head above water. But with a stressful home life and a stressful school life, the walls feel like they are closing in.

Jackie was a social floater. She could twist her skin into whatever people wanted her to be. Most of the time they just wanted her to be quiet, sit back and listen to their problems. Which Jackie was fine with. It meant no one was asking about hers.

Jackie’s family life was… complicated to say the least.

Her father and mother both knew she was gay.

But they pretended like they didn’t.

Where they would pester her older brother about girls every chance they got, they sat stone-faced when she mentioned she was taking Gigi to Homecoming. Well, not completely stone-faced. Her father coughed.

Jackie had given up the chance of exploring her sexuality in high school. Content to let bygones be bygones until college. That’s when she would really get to shine. Away from judgment from her peers and parents and teachers. She would be free then.

For now though, she was standing outside Gigi’s door. The younger girl appeared a moment later, long blonde hair up in a high ponytail clad in flared jeans with a crop top that definitely wasn’t up to dress code. Jackie rolled her eyes internally, knowing that there was virtually no way Gigi would get called out on it. She supposed there were just perks to being the skinny white femme of everyone’s dreams.

The two walked in relative silence over to Brita’s house.

Then they walked in relative screaming to school. Brita was going on and on and on about how horrified she was to hear the news and how terrible it was that Jan thought she couldn’t share the sordid details of her personal life with her friends.

Gigi didn’t comment much, other than a small nod of agreement here and there. Jackie just steamed quietly to herself.

She had her own thoughts about the whole endeavor. Which she happily kept to herself, thank you very much. It wasn’t any of their business if Jan was gay. It wasn’t any of their business if she was getting it on with the captain of the varsity basketball team.

Yes, they had been friends since childhood and yes, Jan had been there when Jackie came out, and yes Jackie had told Jan every possible detail about her life because she trusted her. And no, that kind of trust wasn’t easy to come by.

So maybe Jackie was a little confused. A little hurt even.

That must be why she felt so weird.

“Have you seen her at all this week?” Jackie asked, knowing the answer hadn’t changed.

Gigi gave her a weak smile. “Not since Wednesday, no.”

“Is she okay?” Brita asked.

Jackie rolled her eyes. “Well, considering she had the flu last year and came to school anyway to protect her perfect attendance record, I think it’s safe to say no.”

Gigi spoke softly, calmly. “Jacks, I know you’re stressed with the whole Jan thing, but—”  

“I’m just tired.” Jackie cut her off. “It has nothing to do with her. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Brita and Gigi dropped the subject for now, but Jackie could see on their faces that they didn’t believe her.

Jackie bid her friends adieu at their lockers and headed up the stairs to her own. She tried to shake the feeling of unease that accompanied her, but it wouldn’t dissipate. It sat in her gut and ate at her through the morning. Her classes passed in a haze. At times it felt like she wasn’t even real.

The pit in her stomach only grew as the bell for lunch sounded.

She headed toward the art room, hoping to find some sort of mental reprieve from the strange feeling.

She had no such luck.

Nicky and Crystal were flirt-fighting again. Or at least that was the term Heidi had given it. Nicky would pick something, anything to complain about, and Crystal would evidently rise to the bait and the two would bicker and one of two things would happen. Either they would eventually fall into a fit of giggles, or one of them would say something a little too flirtatious and they both would look away and poorly hide goofy smiles.

It was so sweet it was sickening at times.

Heidi was torturing Aiden by recounting her date with Jacob the other night, going on about how it’s only been three months but she really thinks he’s the one. Normally, Jackie would sit back and laugh. Watch as Crystal and Nicky danced around each other. Watch as Aiden got closer and closer to strangling Heidi with every word.

But today, today she felt like she was drowning. Usually, the art room was too warm in a good way. Cozy even. The breeze from the propped door offering a bit of relief from the stale air. But today it just felt stifling.

Jackie sat and ate in silence, letting her thoughts ruminate over the events of the past few days. The infamous picture. Jan’s weird behavior. Jackie’s weird feelings about Jan’s weird behavior.

“Are you okay, Jackie?”

“Hmm?” Jackie looked up at the sound of her name.

Nicky smiled softly, “I asked if you were okay. You seem quieter than usually.”

“Is it Jan?” Crystal chimed in.

Jackie scoffed, “Why does everyone keep asking me that? Why would Jan have anything to do with—”

“Because you’re in love with her,” Crystal answered simply.

Jackie’s stomach lurched.

Oh fuck.

“I’m not—”

Heidi cut her off, shouting from the other side of the room. “No, girl, don’t lie. You’ve been head over heels for Jan since we could talk.”

Jackie’s brain was still trying to compute. The pit in her stomach felt like it had swallowed her whole and her heart was beating a mile a minute. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.“But I’m not… not in love with her.”

Her shock must have been apparent, because her friends’ expressions shifted suddenly from condescending to shocked.

“I thought you knew,” Crystal spoke quietly.

“How do you not know you’re in love with someone?” Aiden whispered.

“You’d be surprised,” Heidi murmured back in response.

Crystal elbowed Heidi in the ribs.

“Hey! I didn’t ask-”

“Shut up!” Crystal whisper-shouted. “Clearly she’s going through something and you wanna talk about—”

Jackie didn’t hear the rest of Crystal’s statement; she was too busy focusing on her feet hitting the ground as she ran out of the art room, down the hallway, and through the double doors at the end to gulp the outside air.

It didn’t help.

She still felt sick.

Love.

What a tricky little word.

Farsi has over 80 different ways to say love.

Eighty different ways in a language she had been speaking since birth, and yet Jackie couldn’t wrap her head around a single one that encompassed how she felt about Jan.

Love seemed too pedestrian. Too cliché. Too plain.

Maybe that’s why it never occurred to Jackie that such a simple sounding word could be related to Jan.

Jan wasn’t cliché or plain, the opposite actually.

But Jackie… Jackie was simple. She was cliché. So cliché in fact that she had apparently fallen for her straight best friend like the stupid lesbian stereotype she so tried to keep herself from becoming.

So she guessed it made sense.

Jackie shook her head to clear it. And when that didn’t work, she found her eyes searching her surroundings for anything else to focus on. Her gaze landed on two familiar faces in the distance.

Dahlia and Bryce sat close together under the bleachers. Jackie went to turn away, to shield her eyes from whatever shenanigans they were getting up to, when she noticed the open books in their laps.

Dahlia was pointing to a paragraph and talking with her hands. Bryce nodded along. He said something Jackie couldn’t make out and Dahlia nodded excitedly. She continued pointing out different sections of the textbook and Bryce went on to ask questions.

It looked like she was… tutoring him.

Huh.

Jackie couldn’t help her morbid curiosity, so she approached the two as quietly as she could. She ducked under the bleachers and inched ever closer to the pair until she could make out what they were saying.

“So, what you’re saying is I’m stupid and all I had to do was flip the fraction?” Bryce asked.

“Exactly,” Dahlia said.

Bryce chuckled and tried to sound offended, “Hey, you weren’t supposed to agree with that first part!”

Dahlia shook her head and barely hid a smile. “It ain’t about agreeing, it’s just facts. You pretty stupid. You lucky I’m not.”

“I really am,” Bryce said genuinely. Dahlia looked up to meet his eyes and Jackie could see something brimming under the surface. “I feel like I don’t thank you enough for this. But I really appreciate it.”

Dahlia broke eye contact with him and waved her hand as if to break the tension, “Yeah, yeah, I heard it before, you wanna impress your girl.”

So that’s what this was about. He wanted to be good enough for Jan.

And dammit if that thought didn’t hit Jackie in the chest. She knew the feeling.

Bryce sighed and ran his hand through his unkempt hair. “She’s really fucking pissed at me right now.”

“I would be too.” Dahlia nodded. “If you were my mans and I saw you comin’ back from somewhere with the school slut, I wouldn’t be too happy either.”

Bryce winced at her words. “Don’t say that.”

Dahlia gave a bitter laugh. “It’s true. They see you coming from the bleachers with the whole football team and assume you sleeping with ‘em.”

Jackie tried to inch closer but completely missed the giant tree branch right in front of her. She caught her foot on it, which caused her to trip and fall, letting out a curse as she hit the rough ground.

Dahlia and Bryce looked over at her with wide eyes and had the decency to even look a bit guilty. Dahlia was the first to come back to herself, snatching up her backpack and practically sprinting back into the school building.

Bryce lingered and offered a hand to help Jackie up, which she took gratefully.

The two stared at each other a moment. It seemed like Bryce wanted to say something, but he ultimately shook his head and settled for, “Hey, Jackie.”

“Hey, Bryce,” Jackie said.

Bryce coughed to try and break the sudden awkward tension and motioned to the still open text book behind him. “I’m not cheating on her.”

“I know,” Jackie said simply.

She never thought he would. Bryce wasn’t cheating. Didn’t have the brain power to cope with the guilt that came with cheating.

“Dahlia and I were—”

Jackie cut him off, “Studying, I know. I saw.”

“Can you tell her? Jan?” he asked, a hint of desperation creeping into his words. “I’ve been trying to call her but she won’t answer.”

Jackie shook her head. “She’s not answering me either.”

Bryce looked shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jackie said simply, suddenly fighting back tears.

“But you guys are…” He trailed off.

Yeah. Jackie wanted to say. Yeah, they were. And they had been that way for so long that now, now that they weren’t, she didn’t know what to do or think or how to breathe.

Bryce just stood there. Looking at her.

Jackie just stood there. Looking back.

Until he rallied the courage to ask what she knew he had wanted to ask since they had locked eyes.

“You think it’s her? In the picture?” Bryce asked.

Jackie nearly screamed.

“No,” she answered truthfully.

She didn’t think it was Jan. Hadn’t even considered the possibility that it could be Jan until Wednesday. And even then, Jackie still couldn’t wrap her mind around it because Jan was straight. And Jan was Jan.

But even still, Jackie couldn’t stop her mind from running away with the alternative. The alternative being that it was Jan in the picture.

And that alternative made Jackie’s stomach twist up like a balloon animal.

“Me either,” Bryce spoke softly, pulling Jackie from her thoughts.

The two sat in relative silence for a few more moments before Jackie mentioned that they probably should be heading back.

Practice after school went about as well as expected, with Jackie, Brita, Gigi, and the rest of the seniors taking turns leading the team through exercises and routines. Jackie couldn’t help but pick up on the feeling of defeat. They had already been pushing their luck with one flyer down and no coach, but now that Jan wasn’t there it just felt hopeless.

Jackie asked her mother later that night if they were coming to regionals.

Her father coughed and her mother danced around the word ‘no’ for half an hour or so.

Jackie just rolled her eyes at her mother’s antics. Taarof, the Persian word and Iranian principle of not saying what you truly mean, but the group understanding what is actually being expressed. Her mother meant no, but she never said it outright.

By the time Jackie finished dinner and her homework, it was nearly midnight. She sighed at her clock and willed that it would turn back. Willed that it would turn so far back that it would undo whatever weird spell she seemed to be under.

She had no such luck as the clock ticked on and on, and Jackie’s mind only got more cluttered. After twenty minutes of staring at her ceiling and praying that her mind would empty, Jackie gave in. She grabbed her car keys from the kitchen counter and left her house without a second thought.

Jackie got in her car and just sat for a moment. She stared at the radio and the steering wheel and when she blinked, she was outside Jan’s house, not remembering having driven the short distance across the street.  

It was raining, Jackie noted after a minute, pretty hard actually, and if Jackie were in her right mind, she would worry about how her tires really needed replacing because she kept hydroplaning. But Jackie clearly wasn’t in her right mind because before she could think too hard, she was calling Jan.

The younger girl finally picked up after the third call.

“Come outside,” Jackie said firmly.

Jan sighed, and it spoke volumes. “Jacks-”

“Please.” Jackie startled herself with how broken her own voice sounded.

She heard Jan inhale slightly on the other end before she hung up.

Not a moment later, the blonde’s head appeared, and she ran from her front door to Jackie’s car, holding the back of her jacket up to shield herself from the rain. She threw open Jackie’s car door and settled down in the passenger seat. If it were any other day, Jackie would lament about her seats getting ruined, but with Jan sitting beside her, hair thrown up in a messy bun with no makeup and not a trace of a smile on her face, Jackie really couldn’t give a damn about her seats.

Jan sat in her passenger seat and just looked at her for a moment, taking her in almost.

“Hey,” Jan said finally.

Jackie’s heart hammered in her chest, as it normally did when Jan was around. Only now she recognized the pounding for what it truly was.

“Hey.”

I love you. Jackie thought.

Jan sighed and broke eye contact.“I’m sorry everything has been so crazy recently.” She looked back over to Jackie. “I’ve just not been feeling well, but I promise I’ll be back soon, and the team has my full attention and I—”

Jackie stopped her, “You don’t have to explain anything, okay?”

I love you. Jackie thought.

Jan nodded and opened her mouth to speak, but Jackie cut her off again.

“But don’t lie to me and act like everything’s fine.”.

Jan looked down at her feet on the floorboards, then to the window where the rain was making patterns on the glass.

Jackie didn’t know what else to say. So she just drove.

She drove and drove and drove and let her hands and feet do the thinking. Traffic was light, the rain was heavy, and the silence in the car was loud. They passed stores they used to spend all day window shopping at, houses of their classmates that they didn’t talk to now, the old library they never got any studying done at, the roller rink where Jan broke her arm, the neighborhood basketball courts they used to lay on until the sun disappeared and the ground got too cold.

They drove for so long that Jackie surprised even herself when she came to a stop.

She looked up and realized she was in their school parking lot. It was empty, save for the lone golf cart in the far parking space.

Jackie unbuckled her seatbelt, driven by some force that she couldn’t all together name. She opened her car door as the wind and rain beat against it.

“What are you—”

Jackie didn’t wait to hear the rest of Jan’s question, instead focusing on her steps, careful and measured as she got a good distance away from her car before letting her mind shut down and her body recoil as she let out a long and impossibly high scream.

The storm around her did a good job at mostly covering the intensity of her voice, but Jan still heard and came running at the sound.

“Jacks, are you okay?” Jan had to practically shout to be heard over the storm.

Jackie shook her head. “No,” she answered as honestly as she was able. “But that felt damn good.”

Jan looked at her concerned. “You can’t do that you’re gonna—”

Jackie cut her off with another ear-shattering scream.

Jan’s entire body winced at the sound, but Jackie could see something in her eyes simmering just under the surface. A fire. Envy almost.

“C’mon, give it a try,” Jackie yelled over the thunder crashing closer than before.

Jan shook her head. “I’m not gonna—”

Jackie screamed again. This time feeling her throat constrict and the sound fighting to get out. She sounded crazy. Broken and insane but Jackie swore she had never felt more alive than she did right now.

“Jackie!” Jan scolded.

Jackie just screamed again, louder, and couldn’t help the manic smile from spreading across her face. For the first time since they had known each other, Jackie felt her chest lighten in Jan’s presence. She felt a weight being lifted like she could finally breathe.

Jackie looked over to Jan who still looked hesitant, but after a firm nod from Jackie, Jan let out her own scream. It wasn’t nearly loud enough in Jackie’s opinion. And she said as such.

“Louder! You’re a singer you can do better!”

Jan shook her head and Jackie could barely make out a bitter laugh Jan gave at the notion. Jackie just shrugged and opened her mouth to yell again, when Jan stopped her with a hand. “Fine, I’ll do it. Just give me a second!”

Jackie mimed looking at a watch that didn’t exist and Jan bit her cheek to hide a smile.

Jan let out another scream, louder this time, a bit more unhinged.

It still wasn’t right.

Jackie walked closer to Jan so that she didn’t have to shout as loudly as before. “Everything that’s happened,” Jackie said, breathing heavily, “everything that’s made you fucking crazy, this week or your whole life, channel it. Right now. Let it out.”

Jan nodded her head in understanding.

Then she let out a scream so loud, Jackie swore the lights at the football stadium should have popped. She let out a scream so powerful Jackie was surprised she wasn’t knocked back by the force. She let out a scream so guttural that Jackie’s heart nearly broke in two at the sound.

Jan looked up at Jackie with wide eyes, shocked by her own pain almost.

Jackie just beamed at her. “That’s more like it,” she chuckled.

After the initial shock passed, Jan could stop from falling into a fit of laughter. Jackie couldn’t help but do the same.

They spent an immeasurable amount of time laughing and jumping around like idiots in the rain until a flash of lightning struck a bit too close for comfort. They screamed at the proximity and bolted to the car, still laughing and out of breath.

They collapsed in the seats and fell into another round of giggles until their stomachs tired and their jaws ached.

Jackie looked over at Jan, with her head thrown back against the car seat, mouth upturned for the first time in what felt like ages, and Jackie’s heart soared in her chest.

And for a brief second, Jackie thought that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to turn out fine.

[mollymauk-teafleak]

I will love you if I never see you again (chapter one)

Huge thank you to my amazing betas, @minky-for-short for getting me into this podcast in the first place and @spiky-lesbian for letting me pass the gift on

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment on Ao3, it means the world to me and it’s completely free! 

---

Warning: Trans pregnancy not seen but referenced, mentions of depression

Juno deeply regrets leaving Peter Nureyev in that motel room.

He told himself if was necessary. He told himself he was needed elsewhere. He told himself he was a hero.

Now, one year on, he is depressed, lonely and struggling. But Peter Nureyev is about to come back into his life, despite his own best judgement, and show him that their night together was more significant than Juno knows.

---

He wondered how much of his life he would spend taking footsteps that lead away from where he wanted to go.

Every time his heel hit the pavement, he would label himself again, burden himself with something fresh. They piled on top of each other, filling the inside of his skull until it ached.

Coward. Selfless. Idiot. Selfish. Heartless. Hero. Needed. Broken.

That more than anything else. How else to describe a person who was walking away from last night, choosing a cold and lonely dawn and a cold and empty future over everything currently fading into a sickly orange light above his head and someone to share it with. He couldn’t bear to look up and see those stars, not just because he still wasn’t used to seeing them through one eye, shifted in a way he knew they shouldn’t be, blurry and further away than he knew they really were. He was scared to turn his face to them and see the possibilities he was crushing under his boot with every step. Other planets, other worlds, other people he could be. And the two hearts he was breaking, all outlined in the stars like a needlepoint.

So he kept his eye to the pavement beneath him and continued on.

It was colder than it had any right to be, the warmth that hadn’t started as his own leeching away through his coat. It was the kind of cold that made him think he wouldn’t ever get warm again as he tried to force his mind to focus and figure out how he was going to get home.

And then back to normal. Back to who he’d been before.

The thought was the last straw needed to send the tears tumbling down his deliberately expressionless face, dripping from his chin to fall to the pavement below, as pointless and fruitless as rain on Mars.

He heard. Of course he heard.

And yet when he opened his eyes, he still hoped and he was duly punished for it, heart breaking all over again when there was no one in the bed next to him. Just rumpled sheets that had once curved around a human body and freshly emptied space.

He didn’t cry. That wasn’t how he’d been raised. Crying brought noise, attention, commotion. Crying was unprofessional. Potentially messy emotions were meant to be folded up small and filed away somewhere dark and deep for some unspecified later date, a time where he could be himself and didn’t have to be someone else. Whenever that would be.

So he didn’t cry. Instead he stared down at his own hands and told himself he was not thinking about where they had been just a few short hours ago, what they had discovered and held, what beautiful things they had moulded, along with a second pair of hands that were now just ghosts of warmth on cooling sheets. He sat and he stared, gaze hard and level until it began to blur. In that moment he lost sight of his clever, clever hands and realised how much hurt was inside him. Yawning, cavernous depths of it in his narrow chest, so easy to fall into and never be seen again.

But he couldn’t let that happen.

He told himself who he was, who he had made himself into after so much hard work. He spoke his name into the fading darkness and told himself what that meant. That was the only thing that got him out of the bed, onto his feet, back into his clothes. Back out into the world.

But under the veneer of his sharp smile and neat hair and nice clothes, he felt sick. Sick with anger, sick with a desperate need to get off this godforsaken planet and never see it’s dust and mountains and broken promises ever again, sick with grief above all else.

And he stayed sick for some time.

- A Year Later   -

Juno would say he’d had a bad day at the office. But that would imply that he’d had something that could be called a good day sometime in recent memory.

But they’d all been the same. Stumble in after very little sleep and no breakfast, beyond what had made his breath smell of stale alcohol. Give no answer to Rita’s hopeful greeting but to growl whether any new cases had come in. Look through the painfully anemic list and curl his lip at every one, muttering that they were pedestrian, boring, stale after each one. Slump listlessly in his chair and try to decide which he would take, just to get Rita off his back. Get sweaty and shivery at the thought of actually picking up the comms and speaking to a client. Realise it had gotten dark. Go home with no new cases, no progress made and a pitying look from Rita that made him want to scream.

So, yeah. A bad day. A long, long string of bad days that had no end that he could see.

And somehow the worst part of each one was walking home.

He would have stayed at the office if Rita would let him but she firmly ejected him at the end of every day, insisting she wasn’t working in the same space as someone who didn’t shower. Only the fact that she wouldn’t leave until he did actually got his feet out of the door.

It was a typical chilly Martian night, air stale and cloying as it always was under the shields. Juno always felt like he was in a terrarium, something caught by powers far above him and set down in an artificial habitat to be viewed as a source of entertainment. But, then again, it was nice not to die of radiation poisoning.

The bottled weather and stale air wasn’t the reason Juno hated walking home. It was that walking wasn’t enough of a distraction. He couldn’t figure out how to listen to things on his comms and was too proud to ask Rita, watching the people walking past was likely to get him punched in the face for looking at someone funny. Just a long, lonely walk with just his own head for company, nothing to look ahead to but a miserable night in his cramped little apartment drinking himself to sleep. A sad, lost lady alone with the shadows in the corners, thinking if he stayed still and quiet then his memories wouldn’t find him.

And he would feel that heaviness in his chest, like his lungs were turning to concrete, the heaviness that came with the words in his head.

This is what you left him for?

He’d thought Hyperion needed him, like he was some hero from a bad North Star stream. No smarter than he’d been at nine years old again with tin foil wrapped around his skinny chest, pretending to be Andromeda. In real life, heroes could shoot straight. Heros had two eyes. Heroes didn’t bellow at their secretaries for problems they’d caused themselves. Heroes weren’t afraid of anything, much less the idea of a quiet moment.

A car went past closer than it should, roaring and sudden and shaking him out of his thoughts. He didn’t know when his breathing had gotten heavy or sweat had begun dripping between his shoulder blades despite the cool night. He ran his fingers through his hair, told himself to snap out of it and pushed on, walking faster.

Juno tried desperately to occupy his mind, making lists for groceries he couldn’t afford and jobs he wouldn’t get to at the office and going over cases he solved years ago, as he walked through puddles of streetlight. But it was a flimsy shield and he knew it; just beyond the thin veneer of a busy brain sat the thick clouds of grey fog he’d glimpsed, the ones that could dull him and numb him until he drowned without ever fighting back.

He’d always managed to catch himself in time, drag himself out of the other side, get back into the office, try again even if he knew it would go the same way all the others had.

And Juno dreaded the day where he couldn’t even manage that.

He was at his apartment building now, chanting the ingredients for stew his mother would make on her good days under his breath, each step of the method taking him up one of the far too many stairs he had to climb. Step by step, no other thoughts allowed.

Juno was as far as serving the stew into two identical bowls and making sure your greedy brother didn’t get the one with extra pieces of carrot as he took out the key and slotted it into the door. It always needed a shove to get it going, the damp and general lack of attention had warped the wood. Thought it could also have been the many times it had been battered by things trying to get in or out.

So many things that Juno had long ago developed the habit of entering his apartment assuming something was going to attack him, shoulders tense, legs locked, hand on his blaster.

A habit he’d lost after becoming depressed and ever since touching the blaster he could no longer use made his chest uncomfortably tight.

So when he realised there was someone sitting on his ratty sofa, eyes trained on him and something in their hands, Juno was entirely unprepared. And very embarrassed.

“God damn-” was all he got out, hand scrabbling at his belt because if he couldn’t aim for shit anymore maybe he could at least throw it at them, before the shadow stood up and spoke in a voice he knew, a voice that had teased him and cursed him and, last he’d heard it, held him so safely and made him feel so much.

A voice he’d never thought to hear again, since he left it in a dark motel room.

“Juno Steel. I’d apologise for the theatrics but...well, it’s me.”

It was a long time before he could find any words at all, lost in picking out the things he recognised in the shadow, the slope of a nose, the wink of a golden chain in his ear, trying to figure out how it made him feel.

“Nureyev...what...I don’t understand…”

“I wouldn’t expect you to, Juno,” Nureyev stood, not as smoothly as Juno would have expected, like something was weighing him down, “I didn’t anticipate needing to talk to you again after...everything but things beyond my control have forced my hand. We need to talk.”

Juno still felt much like a rabbit staring down the lights of an eighteen wheel truck, flicking on the lights and coming to stand in the doorway, keeping a fair distance between him and Nureyev.

The man who had offered to show him the stars and he had refused.

He was holding something, something wrapped in blankets that he was clutching to his chest like it was the most precious thing in the world. That struck him as odd immediately, an odd thing in a flood of odd things, but his eye caught on it anyway.

He had seen Nureyev work a few times, he’d seen him steal keys and ancient martian masks and legendary, semi sentient getaway cars, things he wanted and things he needed. But he would never let it show when he held them, or had them under his hands. He never had this look of protectiveness, that grip in his fingers like he was going to pull a knife on anyone who tried to take it from him. Because if he showed he wanted it, then that was a vulnerability. That was a connection.

Nureyev’s voice was a practised kind of steady, like he too was surprised to find them here but wanted Juno to flinch first, “You can relax, Juno, I’m not here to kill you like some jealous spurned lover from a bad stream.”

“I never...I never thought that,” Juno said honestly, it had never crossed his mind that Nureyev was going to hurt him. Though it would be hard to argue he didn’t deserve at least a slap.

“I’m here to make a request of you, actually,” Nureyev stepped forward, so he’d tower over Juno a little more.

Though a little less than he should have. He wasn’t wearing heels. He had worn heels to rob a train that moved at a thousand miles an hour but he wasn’t wearing them now, just flat, plain shoes to stand on Juno’s peeling, cracking floor. No corset either, just black trousers and a loose black shirt that looked silky in the low streetlight coming in from outside. He was dressed so...so un-Nureyev.

“You need something from me?” Juno squared his shoulders, aware that he was staring, “What?”

Nureyev’s teeth still flashed when he spoke, in that way that had first snagged Juno nearly three years ago now, “I need you to hold something for me. Something very, very, very precious to me.”

Juno frowned, “You don’t have any other place to stash stolen goods? Don’t you have a whole network for that thing, buyers lined up before you pull a job?”

Why are you antagonising him, Steel?

Nureyev squared his thin shoulders, thinner than Juno had last seen them, “Not what I’m asking, Juno. This will go easier if you don’t jump to conclusions before I’ve even opened my mouth.”

Juno folded his arms defensively across his chest, “Look, Nureyev, whatever it is, I really don’t think I’m the one for the job. We clearly don’t...work together as well as we thought we did.”

That curled his lip, “Oh, I agree, Detective. However I don’t have a choice. You are the only person I can trust with this.”

Juno’s frown deepened, about to open his mouth and snap something back that would only turn the conversation sourer when the package of blanket in Nureyev’s arms shifted and made a noise. He started, about to demand to know if Nureyev had actually brought a cat into his apartment, when the thief turned away and spoke softly to it, moving back the soft material, voice low and soothing.

Not a cat. A child.

“Nureyev, what the hell have you done?” Juno croaked, jaw dropping.

It was clear his assumptions were wrong in a heartbeat when Nureyev rounded on him with more fury in his eyes than Juno had ever seen. More fury than he’d ever thought could be held in eyes usually so still and placid and clever. The child, blinking large dark eyes sleepily, seemed to pick up on it, face creasing unhappily and turning their face against his chest with an unhappy noise.  

“Whatever you are thinking, Detective, I suggest you stop,” he snapped, baring his teeth, “And think about what kind of man you know me to be. Whatever possessed you to leave me in that motel room, you must know I am not the kind of thief you are imagining.”

“Nureyev, easy, I...I get it,” Juno held up his hands, feeling scared of the man in front of him for the first time, “I just don’t understand…”

“Then think,” he took a step forward, “Use that brain you claim to have that I have seen so little evidence of. You can do basic mathematics, yes?”

Juno blinked, static rising loud and so distracting in his head, even as his PI’s eye looked at what little of the child he could see. Dark hair. Skin the colour of turned earth on the home most humans had never known. He couldn’t place her age exactly, all babies looked the same to him, but she was clearly brand new, barely more than a handful of months. And it had been a year since he’d last seen Peter Nureyev.

The static was deafening now and he was swaying slightly on his feet.

“Oh, god damn it…” he rasped.

“Are you there yet?” Nureyev’s voice was flat and unimpressed, “Or do you need me to draw you a diagram?”

“Nureyev, I…” Juno’s hands came up to grip his hair, a tic he’d thought he’d shaken off, “I’m so, so sorry…”

“A little late for that,” Nureyev narrows his eyes, “And unnecessary. My choice was my own. I’m not here to ask you for anything permanent, I don’t want money, I don’t want you to make an honest man of me or anything so trite. And I certainly don’t want your pity.”

Juno tried to take that in, still mostly preoccupied with the static in his head, “Then...then what…”

Nureyev’s jaw set, expression awkward for the first time, “My...my getaway from the last job I pulled wasn’t as clean as I normally manage. I allow myself some leniency for being rather...preoccupied but still. There are consequences I don’t usually have to deal with. Consequences I cannot put my daughter in the path of. I need somewhere safe for her to be while I deal with this and cut the loose ends. Somewhere safe with someone who fully understands how vital it is that no one learns of her existence. Do I make myself clear, Juno?”

Juno knew an answer was expected of him but all he could focus on was the words that had seized his heart, “A daughter?”

Nureyev looked down at the baby in his arms, something softening ever so slightly in his face, almost too small to catch, “Yes. Her name is Bianca Nureyev.”

Juno swallowed hard, still feeling ice water run through his body instead of blood, “It’s...it’s a real pretty name.”

Nureyev had an expression on his face like he was trying very hard not to care about Juno’s opinion of her name, “It is beautiful. And above all, it is precious. I trust you remember how much I value my own name? Well know that I would rather climb this very building and scream my name at the top of my lungs for all of Hyperion to hear than have my daughter be common knowledge.”

The name you trusted me with. The name you valued less than me.

Juno didn’t know what was worse, when he’d thought he’d never have Nureyev’s trust after he’d left or this, suddenly finding himself being handed it again.

“Nureyev…” Juno’s eye slid guiltily around his apartment, all the decay and mess that was so clearly visible, thrown into sharp, uncomfortable relief in the glare of the naked bulb overhead. Nureyev had been here a while, certainly long enough to see the take out containers, mostly untouched and left to rot, the case files piling up on the little used bed, the newspapers gathering dust, the empty fridge and reek of a place that hadn’t seen fresh air in too long.

His expression confirmed it for Juno, “Believe me, if there was any alternative, anyone else I could leave her with...god, if there was any way to avoid this entirely, I would take it. But she’s in danger every second she’s with me and I can’t have that. If I’m going to do this right, I need a clean break. And, ironically, the process of acquiring one is often messy.”

“I mean...I’ll try but…”

“Oh no,” his voice was a knife’s slice into darkness that hit home, “You will not try, detective. You will do this. You said you’re sorry? Then prove it. Help me make something of the ridiculous mess we got ourselves in by pulling yourself together for a month or so and making sure my daughter is safe and well until I can come back for her. It is, quite literally, the least you can do.”

Juno eyed the baby girl in Nureyev’s arms, now looking back at him with a curious awareness, like she was some kind of explosive. Long before he’d made a complete, smouldering mess of his life, the sight of young children with their parents had made him feel sickly. On the street, at the park, on the rare occasions a client would turn up with one on their hip, they gave him prickly sweats and an itchy feeling down his spine, a directionless kind of panic.

He wanted to shout at every parent he passed, everyone with a tiny hand in their own, to get in their face and yell at them do not fuck this up, do you have any idea of the damage you can do?

And the thing was he knew exactly how much damage he was capable of. After all, look what he’d managed to do without even thinking. A baby girl, looking at him with his own eyes, his own vaguely exhausted expression. Fragile as new blown glass, incomprehensible as distant stars.

But he’d wanted to be a hero, a year ago. He’d amended that recently to a smaller goal, simply wanting something other than the heavy, grey fog.

Maybe this way he could have both.

Juno held out his arms.

Whether it was relief or agony on Nureyev’s face, he couldn’t say, it was gone too quick to pin down. He simply slung a large bag from his shoulder, setting it on the floor.

“She has a week’s supply of everything in there. Clothes, diapers, her formula. You’ll need to buy more when it runs out, this was what I could gather at short notice. Also her books, clothes and toys...the cloth cat is a particular favourite, if she’s crying, she probably wants that...”

Juno nodded, “Right, yeah. No problem.” He noticed his arms were still empty.

Nureyev was hesitating, something he’d never seen him do. He was poised to pass his daughter over but had frozen halfway through, like his muscles wouldn’t move any further. There was a long pause before he sighed, pressed the gentlest of kisses to his daughter’s head and quickly eased her into Juno’s arms. Immediately, he boughed under the weight of her.

“I’ll be back, my treasure…” he was addressing her, lines of pain cracking through his mask, eyes swimming for a fraction of a second before they turned to him and turned to flint, “Keep her safe. Promise me, Juno Steel.”

“I promise,” he tried to make his voice sound sure. He failed.

Nureyev looked like he would snatch her back for a second before straightening, “Well, that will have to do.”

Like it was breaking his heart to stay any longer, he turned on his heel and went for the door without a glance back. It shut behind him with a click and Juno heard him taking the stairs, upwards rather than down, to do god knew what.

And he was left holding a baby he hadn’t known existed until a minute ago, with a brain full of static.

Like an actor who’d forgotten his lines, he rocked on his heels and shuffled awkwardly for a few moments before turning to look at Bianca, sitting uncertainty in his arms.  

“So, um...hello?” he tried, “I’m Juno.”

Bianca looked up at him with her creased little face and big, wide eyes and decided that he was definitely not Nureyev.

So she opened her little rosebud pink mouth and began to scream for all she was worth.

Juno slumped down onto his sofa.

“Yeah. Me too, kiddo.”