#been a bit busy to check socials fully or to draw much else I’ll be honest with you

[eggsdrawings]

Cosmic Constant, pre-orders open Oct 14-Nov 10! Buy now HERE!! 💗💗‬

mini klance to hypnotize u guys into buying our zine

[mingishoe]

𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓨𝓸𝓾 | 𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓮 [9]

Summary: Chapter 9 of Promise, San hasn’t seen you in so long and he’s really missing you… he’s just lucky you miss him too.

Genre: Smut, Social Media AU

Pairing: SwitchFem!Reader x Switch!San

Word Count: 2.9k

Smut Warning: dirty thoughts, masturbation (m&f), phone sex, praise, use of the word whore like once, reassurance for San, unprotected sex, marking kink, light breeding kink, cum play

a/n: You can probably read this with little confusion without the rest of the chapters, but it’d be nice if you’d check them out :)

You were so nervous! Today was the day that you were going to Hongjoong’s studio with Mingi and Jongo. You were pacing back and forth looking in the mirror, trying to decide if you should change or not.

What if Seonghwa was there? What would you do then? You can’t have that thrown on you all of a sudden! Maybe you shouldn’t go… Just as you were having a little internal crisis, your phone rang.

“Y/n- Y/n! Y-You’re going to meet us there right? I don’t think either of us are going to be able to meet him on our own… we need your support.” You listened to Jongho’s worried voice on the other end of her line.

“I think so- I mean Jongho I’m so nervous! I think I’m going to throw up.” You groaned loudly and took a deep breath.

“Okay… I’ll see you in a bit.” You agreed and hung up before you could put your phone in your pocket, it rang again. You looked at the phone and saw Sans's name. You looked at it for a second before you sighed and declined it.

San groaned and threw his phone in annoyance. He had never genuinely been annoyed or mad at you, but at this moment he was getting there. He missed you so much! He hadn’t seen you in forever, but it was partially his fault… he had purposefully been avoiding you.

He figured it was time to get over his pride at this point. He was so unbelievably horny. He was just going to put it that way. You always took care of him and he hasn’t talked to or seen you in like a couple of weeks.

San trailed his hand down in his sweats as he remembered the last time you were together. “I know I pegged you the other day.” He can’t believe you said that with everyone right there! I mean… you did- but that’s not for them to know!

Regardless, San couldn’t stop thinking about it. His cock was throbbing but he didn’t want to touch himself… He wanted you to help him. He looks at his phone and contemplates if he should call you again.

Before he could even fully decide, he grabbed his phone, and before he knew he was calling you. It rang for what felt like forever before he heard your voice, “Hello? San. What do you want? I’m busy…”

“Y-Y/n-” San heard a pause on the other end of the line before a door shut.

You were just about to walk out of your apartment when you answered San’s call. As soon as you heard San’s voice, that voice, you couldn’t resist, “San…”

Before you could get another word in, San’s desperate voice rang out, “Please?!”

You placed your things down and flopped down onto the sofa, “Of course my love. You know I can never say no to you. What’s wrong?”

San groaned at your condescending tone, “Stop. I don’t wanna play-”

San could hear the smirk in your voice, “I’m not playing lovely… I really don’t know. What do you want me to help you with?”

San let out a moan and you inhaled sharply, “I-I’m so horny Y/n!”

“Are you touching yourself Sannie?” You listened to San’s heavy breathing as he whined.

“Y-Yeah but-but I didn’t want to. Wanted you to touch me but you kept ignoring me!” San shakily spoke but he was getting tired of waiting. “Look, Y/n, I need you. I need you so much. Please. I need to cum.”

“Okay baby, I got you. Get undressed for me. Wish I could see how pretty you look right now. All desperate to be touched…” You made yourself more comfortable and your legs began to spread, making your dress fall above your hips.

San hums and his hand was shaking as he so badly wishes it was you who was touching him. He quickly stripped himself of his boxers and sweats, already shirtless from his previous touching. His voice was deep as he signaled he was done.

“Okay, Sannie. Close your eyes and imagine it’s me touching that pretty cock of yours.” San does as he’s told and his breathing was heavy as he listened to your soft voice, “You know San, I never get to praise you because you’re always such a little whore,” San lets out a loud moan as his hand is wrapped around his cock.“But you know what? You’ve been a good boy this week. You haven’t touched yourself have you?”

San’s whines are loud as you put him on speaker. Your fingers are drawing shapes on your inner thighs as you listen to all of San’s pretty noises and cries of, “Nonono- I haven’t! I’ve been a good boy for you!”

“Of course, baby. I know you have. You’re touching that pretty pink cock of yours, aren’t you? You have such a nice cock. A nice... big cock.” Your fingers trail underneath your panties and run them along your folds.

San mewled from the praise he was receiving, “Yeah? Do I fuck you well? I fuck you good don’t I?”

You could hear the loud squelching noise of San’s cum as he jerked himself off roughly, “Yeah, yeah you do. You fuck me so good. You’re the only one who makes me cum like that.”

Your finger begins to rub soft circles on your clit making you let out a soft moan as you finally relieve yourself from the week of stress since you’ve seen San.

“Y/n..?” San pauses his movements as his ears pick up the noise of your moan.

“Yes?”

“Are you touching yourself too?” That was the last straw for San.

“Yeah- yeah. But you know what? I wish it was you who was fucking me. I wish I could feel your big cock inside of me.” You listened as San let out drawn-out whine as he came.

You bit your lip as you imagined how pretty San looked as he came. Soft pleads of your name from San made your stomach tighten and your heart beat faster, “W-Wish you came inside me. Wish you- Wish you gave me your cum…”

Before San could even catch his breath he cried out, “Can I go over? I- I need to go over! Please!”

You paused for a minute to think about it but you couldn’t say no to him, “Okay… I’ll be waiting for you.”

“But Y/n…” you hummed softly, “Stop touching yourself. I wanna be the one to make you cum.”

You laughed softly at San before you agreed, “Better hurry then.” Before you could say anything else, you heard shuffling before the dial tone, signaling that San hung up.

You brought your hand away from your dripping pussy and wiped your fingers mindlessly on your dress. San doesn’t live too far away from you so you give him 10 minutes tops, but knowing him, he’ll be here in 5.

You sit there impatiently for only a few minutes before you suddenly remembered about Mingi and Jongho. Oh shit. They’re probably already there waiting for you.

You grab your phone and you’re about to call Mingi but before you press his contact, your front door swings open.

San practically runs up to you before he throws your phone to the side and picks you up. His lips immediately attach to your neck, “You better not have been speeding-“

San only hums as he’s more preoccupied with you. He sits down on your sofa and his arms wrap around you tightly, “I missed you so much… so so much

You push your chest into San’s, trying to get as close as possible, “It’s only been a week, you know.”

“Yeah but it’s been a long week-“ Sans lips trailed lower and lower to your cleavage and his free hand made its way in between your legs and cupped your pussy, “I can feel how wet you are.”

“Mhm. Told you I’d wait for you. Thought you wanted to make me cum?” You looked at San with innocent eyes and a tilted head.

San bit his lip harshly and pushed you off of him, “Fine. I’ll make you cum.” You smiled as San pulled your dress up before your panties were ripped off of you.

San fumbled with your dress before he huffed, “Take it off!” You laughed softly and gave San a cute peck before you unzipped your dress and swiftly pulled it off, leaving you in your matching bra and underwear.

As you were undressing, San was quickly doing the same. He was fumbling as he pulled his shirt off and his sweats to reveal his hard cock. San had been hard this entire time.

San nodded his head signaling for you to lean over the sofa. You and San switched places. Your chest was pressing against the back of the sofa and San was behind you gripping your hips tightly.

You bit your lip in anticipation as you felt San’s cock rub against your pussy, “San- please San.”

San rubbed your back gently before he swiftly pushed his cock inside of you. You cried out and gripped onto the sofa tightly.

San’s thrusts were gentle at first, wanting to savour the way you felt around him. San angled his hips up and you let out a loud moan, “R-Right there!”

San laughed teasingly before he adjusted himself and angled his hips differently making you huff out in annoyance. Stupid boy- he never listens to you!

“Fuck you-“ your head drops and you bite your lip as to not give any satisfaction to San.

“Fuck you? I am fucking you, and you seem to be enjoying it.” You rolled your eyes but the way you were clenching around San, trying so hard to keep him inside of you, it told how you were really feeling.

Suddenly San began to play with your clit lightly, making a loud drawn out whine come from your lips, “San- please?! Want you to fuck me good. Want you to fuck me properly with your big cock!”

San breathed in deeply before he positioned himself in a way that he could have some leverage to fuck you, “Okay darling. I’ll fuck you now.”

San had both of his hands gripping on your hips tightly as he finally began to fuck you like you wanted. Your entire body was tingling and it felt like it was on fire.

The sound of San’s pelvis slapping against your ass filled the room and you pathetically pushed back to meet San’s thrusts. It wasn’t your fault that you were so desperate. You hadn’t seen San in forever and you had stopped touching yourself in the middle of it just so you could wait for San.

“Does it feel good darling? Am I fucking you good?” San knew the answer to that question. He just wanted to hear it from you and you had no problem with feeding his ego a bit.

“Mhm- yeahyeah you fuck me so fucking good- feels so good! Such a nice b-big cock!” Your hand reached back to grab onto one of San’s and he holds onto yours gently with his thumb rubbing softly on your knuckles, a harsh contrast to the way he was fucking you.

San leans forward so his back is pressed against yours, making sure to have his lips as close to your ear as possible. With him so close you could hear and feel every one of his movements.

His breath was fanning against your neck and cheek and your eyes squeezed shut even tighter as you listened to San’s heavy breathing and deep grunts, “You feel so good. Such a good pussy for me to fuck.”

Moans were flowing uncontrollably at this point and you were holding onto San’s hand tightly, “Pleasepleaseplease I need- I need to cum S-San! It feels so good!”

San completely stopped his thrusts and started to grind into you. Your entire body tensed as with every movement, his cock brushed against your sweet spot.

You could tell San was starting to get impatient too when he suddenly straightened himself and pulled you up with him.

Your head was thrown over his shoulder and his lips gently kissed and sucked along your neck as he roughly thrusted into you.

Your hand was shaking as you brought one of his hands down in between your legs. You were so so close and you needed that one little thing to push you over the edge, “S-San! Gonna-I’m gonna-“ you got cut off and the both of you immediately paused.

Your mouth dropped open when you saw Mingi’s name flashing on your phone, “shitshitshit San- hold on.” You reached for your phone and San stopped you, “San it’s Mingi. I was supposed to meet him and Jongho at the studio-“

San let out an annoyed groan and you were honestly just as annoyed from the unintentional edging but you had suddenly remembered and you felt terrible, “H-Hello…?”

“Y/N what the fuck?!? Where are you?! It’s been like 30 minutes and me and Jongho have been waiting outside for like 10 minutes and Hongjoong keeps asking us where you are!” Mingi’s voice was loud and even San flinched from the tone of his voice.

“Mingi- shit I’m so sorry. I should’ve called you earlier- something came up. I’m really really sorry I couldn’t make it- can you tell Hongjoong that I’ll text him later?” Just as you were finishing your sentence, San started back his thrusts and touches to your clit.

You turned to give him a glare but he only smirked at you in response, “Yeah but- Y/n you said you were gonna be here!” You could hear how nervous Mingi was and you felt terrible you couldn’t be there to make him feel a little more at ease.

“Fuck!” San’s cock hit the right spot and suddenly you were about to cum again, “I-I know Mingi. I’m really sorry. I promise- ohmygod- I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

You held the phone as far away from you as possible as you shoved your face into San’s neck as you whispered, “I’mgonnacum San- fuckfuckfuck!”

You could still hear Mingi talking so you knew he hadn’t heard you but a particularly hard thrust from San, you came. Your entire body was shaking and you bit down on San’s shoulder harshly in a pathetic attempt to muffle your moans.

San was doing the same. He was trying his best to contain his moans so Mingi wouldn’t hear him but he was close too. You were clenching so tightly around him and your pussy was desperately trying to suck his cock back inside of you every time he even slightly pulled out.

“So Y/n?” Your attention was suddenly brought back to Mingi who was on the phone, “Just promise that next time you’ll come.”

“O-Of course Mingi- I promise I’ll go to all of them from now on, okay?” You were being sincere, but you just wanted Mingi to hang up already.

“You better-“ Mingi laughed softly, “Okay, I gotta go. Hongjoong is calling us… Love you, bye.”

You quickly said bye back before San grabbed your phone out of your hand and threw it to the chair next to the sofa, “I’m gonna cum in you. Gonna give you my cum, okay?”

You nodded and shut your eyes so you could focus on every bit of San. Your body was still twitching and shaking as San was still thrusting inside of you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you and you were whining only driving San closer to cumming.

“Please San. Please give it to me! Want it so bad- I want your cum so so bad!” Your voice and moans were ringing in San’s ears and before he could give you any warning, his cum started filling you.

San’s head was thrown back and his eyebrows were furrowed as he just kept cuming. You took everything he gave you. Your pussy tried desperately to keep all of his cum inside of you but it started to drip outside of you and cover your thighs.

San was breathing harshly and he had cum harder than he had in a while, not even his orgasm earlier was half as good as this one. And as soon as he pulled out of you, his cum spilled out of you, dripping and staining your thighs.

San’s hand reached down and ran his fingers through your mixed cum and before you knew it, his fingers were in your mouth. You moaned around his fingers as you tasted his cum.

You stayed like that for a couple of minutes as San continued to run his fingers through all the cum and switching between pushing it back inside of you or making you suck his cum off of his fingers.

Once San was satisfied, he stopped and gently kissed your forehead and cheeks before he finally kissed your lips, “Come on baby. Let’s go get you cleaned up.”

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[leahxx129]

Truth or Cut (Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester)

Hello there! This my * very VERY * late submission to @dontshootmespence​ ‘s   Alphabet Angst for 8k Challenge. I am incredibly sorry for this delay but I had to take a break away from Tumblr and social media in general in order to focus on my mental/physical health & other issues in my private life. Now I think I’m ready to return and create content again. As for the story, I hope you like it. This is my first attempt at a love triangle. Important: does not include Wincest so it’s safe to read for anyone who’s not into that. Also, I inserted a ‘Keep reading’ line, I hope it’s visible.

Summary: The British Men of Letters try a new approach to acquire the Winchesters’ cooperation, which leads to heartbreaking revelations. 

Warnings: cursing, bloodshed, mentions of sex, character death

Word count: 2.750-ish

* Moodboard is mine, pictures used are not.

You gain consciousness to two male voices calling your name frantically.

“She’s opening her eyes, Sam! She’s alright… Look!” the hoarse baritone belonging to the elder Winchester reassures his brother a second after your eyelashes have started fluttering.

“Well, that’s the overstatement of the year, Dean… Let’s just say I’ll live.” you grumble once you fully come around. “What the hell?!”

Usually you’re more eloquent than that but at the moment it’s the best you can muster, considering that you’ve awakened in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse and all three of you are handcuffed to uncomfortable metal chairs organized in a neat triangle, facing each other. The only source of light are a few flickering candles placed on a table nearby.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, babe.” your long-term boyfriend Sam replies in a soothing tone.

His handsome face seems intact – minus a couple of scars he obtained in previous fights – so being ambushed is crossed off the list of possible explanations on what happened and how you got here. Maybe you were drugged? If yes… by whom? The things that go bump in the night prey upon their enemies and slash their throats open, not abduct them.

A heavy silence falls on the place, only the crackle of the candle flames can be heard.

You have no idea how much time has passed – it could’ve been an eternity as well as ten minutes – when suddenly a consecutive knocking sound fills your auditory canals.

“Are those… are those high heels?” you ask aloud incredulously.

“Louboutin’s to be exact, my dear.”

Every head snaps to the accent’s direction just in time to see an elegantly dressed slender woman step into the candle-lit area.

“But excuse my manners… talking about fashion before introducing myself? How rude of me. I’m Lady Toni Bevell on behalf of the British Men of Letters.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Dean growls “You know, here in America no means no, Lady! We’ve already told your stupid little boyband to fuck off. We’re not here to do their bidding, we’re here to save lives.”

“So I’ve heard.” She nods in understanding. “But yet, we’d still like to gather some information, one way or another.”

She walks over to the table and unfolds a neatly wrapped package, revealing a knife. Suddenly, Sam’s sarcastic chuckle fills the place.

“And you think you can get us to spill by torturing? Seriously?”

A predatory smile spreads across Toni’s face as she casually picks up the weapon of her choice.

“I was thinking about playing a game that may involve torture. It’s up to you whether it does or does not.”

“What game?” you ask suspiciously.

“I’d like to call it Truth or Cut. Maybe Truth or Stab, depending on the importance of the information you intend to withhold. The rules are the following… I ask something and if you reply, that equals truth, and nothing will happen. If you do not wish to answer, just say cut and I’ll sink my knife into your flesh.”

“You’re crazy!” Sam exhales in disbelief.

“Thank you, Sam! I’m going to take that as a compliment. And since we are already engaged in a conversation, let’s start with you.” She walks to the center of the triangle to face the younger Winchester. “I’d like you to give me the names of American hunters you consider the best.”

Sam leans a bit forward, his face is unreadable.

“Bite me!” he hisses through gritted teeth. “I’m not gonna participate in your psychotic game. You can’t make me.”

Toni flashes a dangerous smile once more.

“Are you sure about that?”

She slowly walks behind your chair and places the blade under your right collar bone.

“If you refuse to pick either truth or cut, your loved ones will pay the price for it, big guy.”

Sam’s eyes search yours for confirmation of the next step and you nod.

“You’re bluffing.” He counters Toni.

The next second you feel the metal pressed against you slash into soft skin and you can’t suppress a loud grunt of pain. Blood starts oozing from the wound and your white tank top soon begins to acquire a shade of crimson.

The brothers yell ‘No!’ in unison, then Dean delivers an impressive selection of curse words – sneaking in some that were new even to you.

Toni strolls over to Sam.

“Now I ask again. Name the best American hunters you know.”

“Cut.” Sam responds in a tone just above whisper. He soundlessly flinches when the woman draws blood by sliding the blade across his left forearm.

“Alright… Who wants to be next? Perhaps Dean? List all the places where we can find extensive knowledge on the supernatural, not counting the Man of Letters safe houses of course.”

Dean’s gaze meets Toni’s and for a second you think you can see her confidence falter because of the deadly rage and utter disdain that radiates from the hunter, but she soon regains composure.

“So? Is it truth or cut, Dean? You know what will happen if you refuse to choose.”  

“Cut!” he emphasizes the t at the end.

You’re next and you pick cut as well. Then the cycle starts all over again...

You’ve made three rounds without anyone breaking and giving Toni what she wants, which visibly annoys her.

“Let’s shake things up a bit by changing the topics, shall we?” she announces out of the blue, making all of you knit your brows.

Spinning around on her heels, she turns to Sam.

“Sam! Did you manage to decide where you want to propose to Y/N? In my personal opinion the place where you said your first I love you-s is more romantic than the place where you first met, but that’s just plain old me.”

Sam’s eyes widen in shock, reflecting your own facial expression.

“Sam? What is she talking about?” you question in a thin voice, perplexed.

A shy, boyish smile appears on his face as he looks deep into your eyes, reminding you of the very first time you’ve seen him.

“Uh, yeah. She’s right. Although I have no idea how she knows this, but I did indeed plan on proposing to you at one of those places, probably where we met… up until now. Now I have to come up with something else I guess.”

A mixture of emotions floods your heart, making you undecisive what to say first. You finally open your mouth to speak but before a sound can escape, Toni directs the next question to Dean.

“Alright, that was a truth, so no cuts. Now, Dean! I am certain she will not get offended so you can tell me honestly… Is Y/N a good kisser?”

“How would I know?” he asks back, lacking any hesitation. “I think you’re mistaking me with Sam, her boyfriend. You know, the tall guy whose proposal you’ve just ruined? Next time you play this game with someone, have your facts checked first, Suit pants.”

The confusion on Sam’s face slowly starts to fade away, but Toni presses on relentlessly.

“Oh, Dean... That was a very convincing performance! But, unfortunately for you, I did have my facts checked. And according to these facts, you and Y/N locked lips passionately just two years ago, in 2015. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

Everybody’s eyes are on you waiting for your reaction, and you can’t help but reminisce about the event in question.

You were having a hard time finding the key for the motel room you were renting - courtesy of the bottle of bourbon you’d consumed earlier. All those keys on the chain looked the same and neither of them seemed to fit into the lock, let alone open the damn door… In addition to that, the world slowly started spinning and you had to prop yourself against the doorframe to prevent an ugly fall.

“Need a hand there, Sweetheart?”

Your heart skipped a beat from the scare but soon calmness washed over you as you identified the person. You could recognize that husky voice anywhere, intoxicated or not.

“Dean Winchester!” you exclaimed, turning around to find him leaning against your car you’d parked near the doorway. “The world’s deadliest hunter and mightiest panty dropper turned hell’s cruelest demon! To what do I owe this pleasure? Considering that you’ve gone out of your way to ignore both me and Sam in the past couple of months.”

He leisurely pushed himself from the car and started walking towards you.

“I needed a breath of fresh air, that’s all. But speaking of whom… where’s Sam?”

He almost left no distance between your bodies when he finally stopped. What was he doing? If he wanted to kill you, he probably would’ve done it already…

“I don’t know. Why don’t you give him a call, huh? Ask him how he’s doing? You could make him the happiest man alive…” you replied with a bitter undertone.

A shit-eating grin formed on Dean’s handsome face.

“Uh-oh. Is there trouble in paradise?”

“Shut it, Dean! It’s really none of your business.” You said, crossing your arms and averting your gaze.

His comment hit a nerve – you both knew that – but the last thing on Earth you wanted to do was discussing your relationship crisis with him. If you still had a relationship, that is.

To much of your surprise, the next second he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him and pressed his lips against yours. It felt terribly wrong but incredibly right at the same time… It took you half a minute to gather all your willpower and push him away.

“Y/N? Is it true?” Sam’s voice brings you back to reality.

Tears start dwelling up in your eyes, providing a wordless answer. He swallows hard.

“Why?”

“It’s all my fault, okay?” Dean speaks up as you’re clearly unable to form a coherent sentence. “I kissed her, man. It happened when I was a demon… I figured if I kissed her, I’d piss you off enough to leave me alone. Besides, she was totally hammered and still pushed me away.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Dean?!”

“I don’t know… a little, maybe?”

Sam scoffs then all of a sudden realization hits him.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“What?”

“Is my girlfriend a good kisser?”

Both you and Dean stare at him in shock.

“C’mon man, you can’t seriously want me to answer that…” Dean attempts to change the subject but doesn’t succeed. Sam’s stare makes it obvious he won’t let this one slide. He won’t let go until he hears the truth no matter how unpleasant it may be.

“Yes.” Dean blurts out. “She’s a good kisser. In fact, she’s one of the best kissers I’ve ever encountered in my entire life. Happy now?”

The only response is a nod.

“Oh wow…” Toni lets out an excited sigh. “Changing the topic was the best idea ever, don’t you agree? Now, let’s move on to Y/N. She’ll get the most interesting question in my repertoire.”

She slowly walks over to you, her Louboutin’s menacingly tap against the concrete every step of the way. She crouches down, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and asks the most ruthless question in the sweetest voice.

“Which one of the Winchester brothers is better in bed?”

The tears you’ve been holding back for quite some time now break free and roll down your cheeks swiftly.

“I mean, it’s not entirely true what Dean said, now is it? You did push him away but then you pulled him back...”

Complete silence ensues and you swear you can hear three hearts break if you listen closely.

You were standing there more confused than ever. What the hell was Dean doing?! Was this a long time coming or was he playing some sort of a game? Either way… If you were sober, you most certainly would’ve punched him in the mouth. But due to your condition – or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself ever since – you pulled him back and kissed him there instead. The part of how you got inside the room was a blur, but soon enough you found yourself tangled up with him in the sheets. Torn clothes peppered the floor, a smell of bourbon lingered in the air and Dean treated you as if you were the single, most important person in the entire universe. You truly thought you’d never been happier – then came the morning and shattered everything to a thousand pieces.

“You know, to encourage picking truth regarding this question, I am going to tell you something you yourself may not even be aware of, Y/N.” Toni breaks the silence. “There is something else that’s not true in what Dean said. He did not spend that night with you just to piss Sam off… He’s been attracted to you ever since you’ve met and being a demon allowed him to shamelessly do something about it.”

You whisper ‘Cut’ as a reply and Toni’s face hardens.

“Oh, honey… withholding this information is worth a stab.”

Before you can comprehend her words, she swings the knife and it ends up in your right thigh. You don’t think you’ve ever seen this much blood come from a stab wound… Both Winchester men yell in protest, but their voices become distant as you slowly slip into unconsciousness.

Mary and Castiel tracked down your location and arrived just in time. You almost bled to death, but the angel managed to heal the wound. For a while you wished he didn’t.

Three weeks later you’re sitting in your car at an abandoned gas station. About fifteen minutes after your arrival, a black SUV parks near you. You limp to the vehicle and tear its door open, barely containing your fury.

“What the fuck was that, Toni?!” you question while getting in and pointing a gun at her.

She glances at the weapon then looks you in the eye.

“Is that necessary?”

You cock the gun in response.

“Alright. So, as you know, the management decided that you delivering information to us about the Winchesters is not enough anymore.”

“Yes, that’s why you’ve contacted them directly, I know.”

“Correct. But since they refused to cooperate, the management came up with a plan of disrupting their unity. This way it’s just a matter of time and one of them will be knocking on our door. I suspect it will be Sam.”

A bitter laugh escapes you lips.

“So that’s what this was? A disruption of unity? Really?! And why didn’t I know of this, huh?”

“We needed your reactions to be genuine.”

“God, you’re a bunch of psychopaths… You know what, I’m not gonna do this anymore. I quit.”

She lets out a loud scoff.

“Please… what are you going to tell them? Furthermore, how do you think they will react when they learn that the love of their lives is a snitch?”

You let your gun down.

“I’ll make sure they know why I became a snitch... I’ll make sure they know how I made a crossroad’s deal years ago to save them both. I’ll make sure they know how you offered to delay the hellhounds in exchange for some information every now and then. I have no idea how they’ll react, but maybe someday they’ll understand and find it in their hearts to forgive me.”

Toni stares daggers at you.

“I suggest you think this through carefully, Y/N, as we still hold your deal. One bad move and the hellhounds will come and get you. No more delaying.”

You flash her the biggest smile you can summon.

“Well, it’s been a while since the last time I played with puppies from the pit… I think I’m ready.”

Not waiting for her reaction, you get out of the car and start limping back to yours. By the time you get in, Toni is gone.

You’re all alone.

Well, not entirely alone to be fair.

The grumbling hellhounds in your backseat keep you company.

You take your phone out of your pocket avoiding any sudden movements and type a quick message to the Winchesters:

‘My nightstand, second drawer.’

Toni thought she could prevent you from exposing the truth by taking action quickly, but she wasn’t paying attention. You never said you were gonna tell them everything. You said you would make sure they know. And the detailed farewell letters you left for them in your drawer will serve the purpose well.

[littlepurplething]

A little sneak peek of the newest story I’m trying out, thinking about calling it A Web of Flames. tell me what you think. 

Gently, Lucy had shut her door behind her after getting home from school. Knowing that if she slammed it, her father might scream at her again. After losing some business moving here from Acalypha just a few months ago, her father was swamped with meeting after meeting trying to make that business up.

His attitude as getting worse and worse by the day.

Her escape was her laptop, letting the small device load up on her bed, she got herself comfortable in some pajamas; consisting of grey sweatpants with a pink stripe running down them and a pink tank top that hugged her curves but was still fully comfortable.

Seeing the home screen of her laptop gave her a slight bit of happiness. Clicking on the internet icon, it loaded to the same page she always visited, Fumblr. It was her main page she posted her stories, there were others, like fanficstory.net. she had to place them in other sites so more people see them.

Her brown eyes widened when she saw the many, many notes from people reblogging and commenting on their love for her newest chapter. She literally sat cross-legged on her bed and clapped in excitement, maybe even let out a quiet squeak.  

Going to the search and typing in her favorite hashtag, Fairy Tail. It was her most favorite anime that is almost done with the English version of the anime. She wished it didn’t end so soon but it has been going on so long. Hopefully, she can find a new anime or manga to read.

That’s when her curser scrolled down to see some amazing art and funny incorrect quotes from the anime. Taking her time, she looked over some awesome one-shots of different ships and some not so great ones, you know not everyone can write but still, it’s what they want to do. Then she saw his name or his username.

Firedragonslayer.

He did these amazing drawings and edits of manga strips that just look so artsy and just…amazing. He was also very funny when he posted any status update or yelling at some other users like icedevilslayer and scarlettrequipmage and so many others. She even knew his name, which he has in his bio, Natsu. Well, she hoped that it was his real name.

It made her laugh and she, oh so, wanted to join in their banter but she was just so self-conscious of herself and what she might say to everyone. She wasn’t even following him because she was just so scared that he would find her weird.

“Lucy!” she heard a shout from the ground floor of her home.

Her blonde hair pulled up in a bun at the top of her head, almost falling out when she cautiously walked down the stairs to see her father standing at the front door with his business luggage with his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, father?” she quietly with her hands collected behind her back as she stood straighter as she has been told to do over the years.

He checked the time on his watch as he grabbed his bag with his other hand, “I’m going on a business trip for the next week. Stay home and just go to school. No friends over and no going anywhere else,” he stated, already trying to leave as he told her. Also, she didn’t even have friends to hang out with or have over.

She only nodded when he left out the door without a hug or a goodbye. Lucy let out a sigh and slugged her shoulders, slowly walking up the stairs back to her room. Her laptop in the same place on the page of Fumblr but saw a new note in her notifications.

Clicking on it, seeing that firedragonslayer had commented on one of her stories, which had never happened before; saying ‘first fanfic I read, and it is actually good’. Lucy squealed and wiggled her feet on her bed, causing her laptop to bounce and almost close if she didn’t catch it in time.

Lucy reblogged it with a short ‘Thank you so much, I really appreciate that’, and she really was. It really made her day and momentarily forgetting her father just left her alone for a week, at least she wouldn’t hear any yelling for a week.

She spent the rest of the day looking on Fumblr and trying to write a new one-shot at the same time. Lucy had her back leaning against the wall by her bed and her laptop laying her on her legs, per usual on a school night or any night for that matter. Then she got a private message from her favorite person on this site because she really felt like she could actually become real-life friends.

Her username was scriptmage, but her name was Levy. They talked occasionally about Fairy Tail and so many other animes, they even collabed on a story together. That was one of her most commented story on this site. Sometimes they would even text after they talked about giving each other each other’s number.

“Lu, you didn’t tell me that firedragonslayer commented on your story!” Levy told her with a picture of a girl screaming.

The blonde had to laugh, “It only happened like an hour ago, Lev! I’m still trying to comprehend that he even did,”

“Are you going to talk to him more?”

Her toes curled under her blanket in anxiety, she had told Levy about her small, tiny crush on Natsu and she doesn’t even know what he looks like but he’s just so funny and talented with art, it just made her heart jolt in her chest, “Isn’t that weird? I mean he didn’t make conversation with me at all,”

“Girl, you need to talk to him. I’ve heard he’s not that bad of a guy in real life,”

Lucy had tilted her head, “How do you know that?”

It was only a few moments of silence when she finally received a message from her, “I may be talking to his cousin,” and Lucy let out a slight chuckle, wondering how she even knew that this guy was Natsu’s cousin.

Her fingers typed up a message while still trying to contain her laughter, “Lev, I never knew you had a boyfriend,” she typed with winking emoji.

She could hear the slight gasp from the other side of her laptop even if they couldn’t see each other as Lucy opened up the message that simply read, “Lucy!” then a second message, “Guess dinner’s ready, I’ll talk to you tomorrow Lu!”

Now she was alone, in her house and in her social life. It made her upset that she only had one friend in real life and online. She only groaned while shutting her laptop and dropping herself under her covers, hopefully, she could make new friends at this new academy school. She tried to argue with her father about going to an all-girls�� school, but he wouldn’t have it, telling her that he didn’t want her around boys at all.

Well, maybe she was just destined to be alone for the rest of her life, just like her father wanted.

Covering herself to the tip of her nose with her wool blanket, she sighed through her nose and promptly fell asleep in her dark room in a dark and lonely house.

[ambistep]

We Can Make It Work

~4.2k words, stupid long, gratuitous gang plans, a real somft ending, i promise

Tags: retribution spoilers. cw - killing, guns, Argentstep, the gang!! not sure

Mina has session with Dr. Finch - it goes well this time. In fact, many things are going well lately! Also I wanted to write about the gang, and i always want to have argent stuff

---------

“You seem well - more confident. Happier?” Finch is smiling. Mina is smiling. This is good. “I wish I could take some credit but it’s been awhile since our last session. I thought you might not be coming back.”

Mina sinks back into the comfortable chair, “Sorry, I just have been really busy lately.”

~

“...I started a new project at work.”

A small sodium work lamp illuminates the workbench and the corkboard on the wall before it. Neat files of illicit records and stacks of purloined documents, a laptop aglow with… research, photos, stock news, articles. Mina’s nimble fingers spear a set of blueprints to the board.

It was a trickle at first - but with time, the board had grown very crowded indeed, a tangled rat’s nest of ties, connections and data points. The squeaking chorus nearby liked it when she thought of it as such. 

Vanderpoel had talked to Ochoa about the congressional aide who handled the senator’s dirty laundry - Mina had been monitoring Mia. The aide was careful, but simply didn’t have the security of his boss. His mind had been an oily, porous sick sort of place, riddled with compromise and low cunning - it yielded readily before Clarity. A swift crack, and all kinds of goodies spilled out, enough that sifting through it had become difficult. Now, though, now she had the names necessary to get started.

~

“I’ve been trying to be better about working as part of the team.”

 The warehouse was dusty, filled with forgotten pieces of abandoned start-ups or rarely used equipment, the space leased by a firm with little memory of it - Mina had made certain it was forgotten. A flash young gun in a slick suit is chattering about gear specs with a slightly older Modded muscle who is dutifully ignoring him while trying to unpack and assemble gear with their clawed prosthetic. Another modded fellow lounges on the sofa, pouring over a flight manual.

Across the way, an odd pair, a rough, heavily-modded soldier and a grinning young girl who seems like she might have walked off campus at UCLD are listening intently, studying floor plans. All authority in the room flows from the scarred, severe woman laying out her plan point by point.

   “...ZaZa sits tight on overwatch, Boris stays put at the helipad. Rest of us sweep the executive level, and split into pairs. Pelayo, you’re with Nehal, while Ward and -” She pauses, hearing the question form in Pelayo’s mind, “while Ward and I secure the target.”

“The kid can back you with the target, no? How much back-up you need in that suit, boss?” Pelayo brushes his knuckles over his stubble, a nervous tic.

Smoothly, softly, Mina shuts down Pelayo’s concern, “You need to cover Nehal while she makes sure we only set off the alarms we want to go off, and then you need to be there to place our parting gift. Ward will be fine with me, I’ve got their back. Are we clear?” 

Pelayo hesitates, measuring his unwillingness to separate from Ward versus testing the boss. It was a good job - Clarity pays well and on time, gives them plenty of prep time. And most importantly in this city, she seems mostly sane. Looked a little young, but she didn’t get those scars playing tennis, and the plans were solid, smart. So if she said Ward went up and he went down... “Ay, we clear.”

Clarity looks him dead on. That ‘this isn’t going to be a problem?’ look. He knows it.

Pelayo nods, “Don’t worry about it.”

Nehal, surreptitiously studying the utility plans, in utter enchantment, “I think, on some level, I always wanted to be an arsonist.” 

~

“...I’ve been going out a bit more.”

Ward didn’t quite understand how Clarity’s trick worked, but watching the grey cloud slowly eat through the vaulted security door to the executive suite was a treat. Nehal had made sure to cut off communications from the CEO’s office - and the target had predictably locked down his suite.

What they hadn’t expected was a Modded security officer waiting for them.

Clarity steps through the hole that was a steel-reinforced door, imperious dark armor and gleaming face mask emerging wreathed in the nanovores’ smoky cloud. The vocal distorters don’t conceal her amusement, “Could it be? The Grey Guardsman? No longer cutting taxes, I see.” Shielded. So that’s why she hadn’t sussed out his presence in advance.

The corporate hero draws his signature carbon-steel longsword, squaring off - making a good show of confidence, pointing his blade, “And I recognize you, villain - I may no longer serve TaxTech, but we still do a swift trade in justice here at Promethean.” 

Clarity coolly wraps an armored gauntlet around the blade. The Rat-King gleefully guides them as they chew apart the weapon, and Mina sighs behind her mask. She always really liked that sword. “Stand aside, Guardsman. This scum isn’t worth fighting for.” 

Sure, he’s a company stooge, but Charge had introduced him to Sidestep, and it hurts to admit, but… maybe some part of Mina would regret crushing him too badly. A reminder of a more innocent time. 

Enough to distract her from the fact that he’s still coming - his ambitious, ridiculous plan of punching her thwarted by Ward’s iron grip around his wrist. Clarity’s lapse in conviction is rectified - a solid blow to the head from her armored gauntlet and Ward drops him to the floor. 

She sighs, and nods her head in gratitude to Ward. That should leave only the target in the office proper. A heavy book is enough kick through the ordinary door. A portly older fellow sits still in his chair, trying to appear unafraid, trying to hold his composure. “Wh-what is it that you want? I am prepared to c-cooperate.”

A VIP, a defense contractor, someone with his security clearance would have some training to resist telepathic interrogation - enough to maybe stop Sidestep. Not so for Clarity, but still maybe enough to slow down the process, complicate things. “Ward, sedative.” The man yelps as she reaches across the desk to grab him.

“Got it, Boss.” Ward’s surprisingly deft with the needle. The suit makes pinning him to the desk a trivial thing, and the injection goes in just as easily.

“Now, then. I’m not to be disturbed.” Ward takes the order and leaves Clarity to her prey. The quivering executive yields easily, meager protections cracking like safety glass under the first real pressure. 

Clarity is rewarded - almost immediately. He knew why they were here. He knew immediately exactly which part of Promethean’s many contracts had brought Clarity here. A dry Nevada desert. Security clearances and classified paperwork. Contracts with no questions asked. A service for his country. It made him feel good to be a patriot - that is what she discovers. It makes her feel… something else entirely. Seething, black, bloody --

“Oh, shit, is he dead, boss?” Ward sneaks a look into the office. Mina recoils immediately from the man - blood runs from his nose and… not dead yet, a stroke, maybe. She can feel the trickle of his mind, faint, pooling out. Fine - better than what he deserved. She’d planned to wipe his memory and cover her intrusion but a stroke worked just as well.

“We’re leaving.” Clarity stalks out of the office, opening a channel for the rest of the team, “I have what we came for. Exit team?”

The office fills with sirens and red lights, Nehal’s voice in her helmet, “Oh, we’re good.” 

“Then we’re done.”

A whining voice cuts over the radio, “I didn’t even get to shoot anything.”

“Next time.”

~

“I feel like the job really gives me a chance to express myself.”

“And you’re getting along with your co-workers? I know you were worried about your social anxiety.”

“I think we understand each other.”

“Shh, guys!” Nehal fumbles for the remote to turning up the volume on the television. Pelayo and Ward are still stripping down and checking the gear. Boris, ZaZa, they share beers, but Clarity - unarmored - settles down to sit on the floor next to the girl.

“...Veronica Sandoval, live from downtown, where responders are still battling a two alarm fire at an office building. Now, authorities aren’t saying what caused the fire but I can tell you two that two patients were taken to city hospitals with non-life threatening injuries. The building is the headquarters of Promethean, which is described on it’s website as a medical device and biotech company, and a defense contractor. A spokesman with the fire depart…”

“Show it, show it, yes!” Nehal laughs triumphantly as the camera cuts to footage from a news helicopter, showing the fully-engulfed front face of the building lighting up the nightline of downtown Los Diablos. “Fucking fascists. Clar, look.” She grabs the boss’s shoulder then suddenly recoils.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I jus-” The boss didn’t like to be touched.

Clarity keeps her face tight, and just nods, “It’s good, don’t worry about it.” She leans back, trying not to brush off the spot where Nehal’s hand had landed, “Glad you had fun - next job is going to be harder - but a bigger score.”

That gets everyone’s attention. Pelayo and Ward, consummate professionals, gather up. “You got the next job lined up already?”

“Almost. Preparation will take some time - I’ll be in touch. Payment will find you like usual.” 

That’s good enough for Ward and Pelayo, they’re veterans, professionals, used to this stuff. ZaZa always liked the money but hated authority almost as much, and relished any chance to shoot his guns off. Nehal liked Clarity’s politics and… had some sort of admiration for the boss. Mina makes a note to curtail that - nobody should be looking up to her, for God’s sake. Boris just liked the steady pay - everyone seemed much nicer than the Wolfpack, anyway.

~

“We talked about wearing masks last time. How they can be useful for letting us function in social or workplace environments, but they can also be used to keep people away, to isolate. How are you doing with masks, Mina?”

“Still using masks, I’ll admit. But I did take your advice about getting out of the city for a little bit.”

“Shit, it’s hot. Fucking Mojave.” He wipes his brow, wicking away the sweat.

“Focus, ZaZa.” The boss’s voice reassures him in his earpiece. For some reason, her voice always seemed to calm his nerves. Lady was creepy like that. 

ZaZa tapped at the relay device, shielding the small monitor from the sun’s glare and flicking between cameras,  “Visual on target. Right on schedule.”

A massive, heavily armored tractor trailer, unlabeled, barrels down Interstate 40. On either side, two black SUVs bearing out-of-state license plates. Clarity tried to zoom in the image on her helmet’s HUD. At the bottom of the plate, curly black text reminds her ‘HOME MEANS NEVADA.’ The thought makes her queasy. And violent. Maybe that’s good. Maybe she needs that push.

��Remember. Stick to the plan, watch out for each other. They’ll be contractors, ex-military but the kind who take it seriously. Maybe with mods. They will kill on sight. And we have to be fast.” If she is right, and she knows she must be at this point, then there would be a response - even out here in the Mojave. “Masks up. Time starts at contact.”

In the back of the van with the boss, Pelayo and Ward slip down the sleek silvery facemasks Mortum had prepared for the team - not as robust or tricked out as Clarity’s, but more on par with… well, with Sidestep’s. Up front, Nehal’s already had hers on - she’d hardly taken it off. 

The masks are important - Mina knows. It puts distance between the person and the world in front of them, lets you detach from violence, from danger, emboldens you. It lets you invent someone who can do the things you need to do, to become someone who can survive. She’d put on a mask to become Clarity. A mask to become Sidestep. ...a mask to become Mina. 

Boris’s voice crackles over the comms, “Boss�� Boss. I got visual. ZaZa, don’t god damn miss.”

He sounds nervous - this is a bit more than he signed up for. Clarity eases back into her seat, reaching out, fingers in five minds, familiar minds. Nothing aggressive, no pushing - you touch too much and they might stiffen up or stop trusting their instincts. Only the lightest, caressing touches, gentle nudges. 

She has to admit, she loves this part, feels born to it. She’d learned that with the Wolfpack - nothing felt so pleasant as coaxing her crew along towards victory, allaying their fears and… coordinating. Boris’s anxiety is sweltering, Nehal has uncomfortably little anxiety - the girl is… special. Ward, too, isn’t so certain. Clarity turns to look at Ward, looking past the facemask, and then speaks to Boris, “Easy, we trained for this. Your truck is reinforced. Take cover below the dash when you make contact. We’re professionals.”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Relax, man, I don’t miss.” He’s almost as good as he thinks he is. 

Nehal guns it, pedal to the floor, gaining on the convoy in front of her, empty desert tracking past.

Boris’s tractor trailer heads down the highway westbound, staring down the convoy. He accelerates and… swerves into the oncoming lane. The lead driver reacts but not fast enough. 

The eighteen-wheeler plows into the black SUV with a tortured symphony of wailing metal, crunching glass and scraping on pavement. 

It would almost be hard for anyone to even notice the thunderous boom of the anti-material rifle punching into the engine block of the convoy’s transport. Even as it plows into the back of the SUV in front of it, the shots keep coming, again, and again, and again. 

The back of the escort pulls up alongside the convoy and brakes, scrambling, deploying, trying to find cover. And Nehal comes in ready, swinging the van sideways. Pelayo, Ward, they toss the smoke grenades and take positions behind the van. Nehal ducks down for cover in the driver’s seat, clutching her machine pistol.

And then it is the boss’s show. The van raises up as the bulk of Clarity’s armor sets foot on the highway. There is a burst and clatter of small arms fire - striking the van, some even striking her - but she simply walks into it, embracing the attention. Their thoughts are frantic, aggressive - more of them are holed up in the transport with the cargo. Someone is calling for backup, notifying command - she stops in place and squeezes this mind, even through the ratatatat plinking. Stop. Now. Squeezing. Breaking this mind.

No need for too much delicacy - this is the enemy.

The one she had been waiting to strike at for so long. Not these men and women, but… everything they serve. That should be enough - it’s still harder than she’d thought, using her powers this way. Not entirely true - it is easy, really. Frighteningly easy. But it feels hard for Mina. 

That’s why she has on Clarity’s mask.

The gunfire stops - someone… Oh someone has a plan. One of the soldiers is retrieving heavy ordinance, she can feel the thoughts, the plans. “Pelayo.” Some mental guidance, and he turns out of cover and brings down the would-be hero with deft fire from his rifle.

The Rat-Kings continue to help Clarity guide all focus towards her, all aim toward her, soaking up all this attention, though they care none too much for the noise, chittering in a right good panic. 

“Advance.” Ward comes out from cover, then Pelayo, picking off aggressors. Now and again, another boom from ZaZa in the distance when he finds a shot - sometimes even when he doesn’t. 

“Breach.” There’s still two holed up in the transport, their thoughts easy to sniff - patient, trained. Weirdly confident, that’s unnerv-

“Boss! Ward’s hit!” Clarity turns her head. How had she not noticed? Ah, Ward had barely noticed themselves. 

“I’m good, we’re good.” Ward is always good - undersells everything. Pelayo’s still worried, but a quick check and Clarity is sure Ward is telling the truth. 

“No heroics - cover our backs. Focus.” A quick nudge to keep everyone on mission. On mission - that notion… again makes Mina queasy. Her handler’s voice, she talked about… staying on mission. Clarity helps her push past the discomfort. “Breaching.” 

As Clarity prepares to ready the nanovores to crack open the transport, the tailgate volunteers itself, swinging wide. There’s no time to react to the small explosive that impacts - only strong enough to cause her to stumble, thank you once again, Mortum. 

Two gleaming, power-suited soldiers climb out of the truck, and Clarity almost has to laugh. Two hundred miles from Los Diablos, and she still finds two tin discount imitations of Marshal Steel. 

“ZaZa.” 

Another blast of thunder and one suit drops. The other starts to react, but the distraction is more than enough to open a wide hole in their thoughts - Clarity psychically punctures what light mental preparation he had and buries a shiv in his mind.

And like that, the highway is quiet. 

Pelayo checks the first escort, giving a clear. Boris chimes in with the next. Nobody else is getting up. Ward and Nehal follow Clarity to the truck and begin to unload the cargo.

Another mental nudge for the team - keep everything quick, everything snappy. Clarity runs through the plan - they don’t need the reminders, but she has to say something, keep the adrenaline up so she doesn’t think about… consequences. “Pack it up, ZaZa. Boris will pick you up. The rest of you, we’re taking it all, strip it down and clean it enroute.”

Every moment they aren’t talking, all she can hear is her heart. This is them, these are… This really is them. It is terrifying, crushingly horrifying, every part of her wants to scream, run. They will be coming, this was a mistake, how could she have been so ridiculous? Hitting them like some jewel heist, with a gang of robbers? All her thoughts are that they will find her and kill her. That there’s a team from the Special Directive in the air right now, ready to deploy. 

It could even be true.

“Clar? Clarity?”

Nehal waves a hand in front of her mask, her own silver mask tilted in concern, “Boss, time to go.” 

And so it is. 

It isn’t until they’re on the road, off the interstate, and all the cargo is clean that panic finishes bleeding through her system, that Clarity clicks and removes her helmet. Had they really done it? Had she… Could she have really drawn blood from the people who made her and lived?

“Can’t believe it, right? Imperialists, highway robbery with government spooks.” Nehal glances over to the passenger seat and holds out a candy bar, a smirk glued on her face - at least she’s taken off her mask.

Clarity peers at the young girl, graciously accepting the candy. She takes a small bite, “You’re a really weird kid, Nehal.” Looking over her shoulder to the back of the van, “How’s Ward?”

Pelayo still looks a little nervous - she’s always surprised by how worried that man can look, “They’re good.”

Ward gives a nod, “One got through on the leg, just grazed. Be healed by morning.” Clarity frowns, but seems satisfied with this.

Two hours, and well on their way to the detour in Old Fresno - when ZaZa and Boris sent their all clear… That’s when Mina can finally, fully feel satisfied that there’s no team of branded monsters - monsters like herself - stalking them, no ghostly assassins. Maybe this really was a victory - maybe they really pulled it off. Had she overestimated them? No, she had cautiously estimated them, she chides herself. She didn’t make it this far without being careful.

“How did that go, travelling?”

“Better than I expected - I was still really nervous, the whole time.”

~

“When we last met, you were telling me you had been seeing someone?”

“Did I say that?”

“You did. Getting sloppy?”

“...Must have slipped out.”

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“...Well. It’s been going well. I got her a gift the other day. While I was out of town. The perfect thing.”

“Did she like it?”

“I haven’t shown her yet. But I know she will.”

“Why’d I have to come all the way out here? Is this where you keep your smelly little lair?” Ximena wrinkles her nose, standing out in the open lot, kicking at dirt idly.

“Oh please. Like I’d take my girlfriend to my secret lair.” Mina smirks - being with her always brings out the best. Crouching down, she brushes away some dirt and pops a key into a padlock and yanks open a rusty metal cellar door.

She scoffs, “Padlock, huh.” Mina grins smugly, leading the silvery heroine further down below. 

“For the record, my lair smells like flowers.”

“Ooo. Is that a clue?” She pokes Mina in her smug little nose

“Maybe. Come on, this way.” She grabs Ximena’s hand, tugging her along, getting far too excited.

The whole place looks like nobody’s been there in years, but that’s part of the charm - Mina’d been here just this morning. A false wood panel in a support beam yields a keypad. Playfully shielding the pad from Ximena’s eyes, Mina punches in the code, allowing a false wall to slide open.

“Just for the record, I knew that was there.” Ah, right. All those neat little extra senses she had.

“Well, thank you for humoring me. I wanted to put on a little show.” Mina leans, taking both of her hands, and squeezes them, leading her slowly into the small storage vault.

“What is this?” Ximena’s voice lowers a little, eyeing the gunmetal grey case resting on a table in the middle of the room. The name ‘PROMETHEAN’ stamped on front. There’d been more boxes, with different bits of technology or equipment, rare, valuable. Some she’d given to the good doctor Mortum to play with. The rest she’d sold to Hollow Ground at a considerable discount - a show of good faith. Clarity had been all too happy to let Mr. Manalo take it all off her hands - and the payment was still more than enough to keep the crew happy. 

Now there was just this one case.

“The lock was a little tricky…” Mina is radiant, glowing with pride as she places her thumb on the fingerprint scanner. A soft ding and a green light unlocks the case. “...really, anyone can open it now that I broke the lock... My fingers don’t actually have any prints anyway.” She holds up her hands and wiggles her fingers for emphasis.

Ximena smirks, locking her left hand with Mina’s. “I like them.” She leans in and kisses a digit lightly, “Just.” A kiss. “The way.” A kiss. “They are.” And a kiss. Mina’s smile fixes in place, cheeks flushed red, her thoughts going all kinds of places then crashing, brain shutting down - until Ximena’s snorting laugh helps her recover. “So, what’s in the box?”

“A present.” 

Popping the case open slowly, there is a hiss of frosty, chilled air spilling out into the heat of the dry basement. The interior of the lid is labeled with serial numbers and barcodes - uncomfortably familiar barcodes, if Mina allowed herself to think about it. She most notably does not allow herself to think about it. Not now. She watches Ximena’s gleaming face, waiting for that moment of recognition. 

Chilled and lit by a sinister - to Mina’s reckoning - orange light, clasped in the middle of the case, three processing chips, a solid state storage device, a handful of cellulose wetware chips and the jewel, the real prize.

“How did you..?”

“Don’t ask. I told you I’d find one.” 

An innocent enough looking device. Inscrutable to almost anyone else - but not to Mina. Not to Ximena. A particular, specific protein printer, and all the pieces needed to make it work. The kind of thing that would look nestled right at home in the heart of a certain regenerator prototype. 

“I promised I would,” Mina’s voice shakes, unsteady. A lump welling in her throat as she sees the recognition, the relief on Ximena’s face. All that this means. For either of them. For both of them. All that it could mean. Infinite things. Anything. Everything.

She pulls Mina in too hard, arms around tight, squeezing, “You think we can make it work?” It’s her turn, even her voice gets weak. 

Mina sniffs, feeling her control slipping, her mask pulled down, and a tear runs down her cheek as she buries her head into Ximena’s shoulder, leaning into the hug. She tries to speak but it is hard to put any strength in her voice, “...yeah, we can make it work.”

They hold tight, hungry for two whole lives of affection, and touch, and tenderness. Starving for intimacy that had been out of reach, once for all time. Now… Now within reach. Ximena asks it again, “We can make it work?”

Mina had told her. Told her weeks ago. About the machine. About their relationship. About their whole lives. 

The answer was the same. 

“We can make it work.” 

This time, she even believes it herself.

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

Red Queen Series

Hello Friends! Sorry I haven’t posted in a bit (I say as I scream into the void cus I literally have no followers). Life and online school stuff has kept me busy and I haven't been on here in a while. I also have been caught up reading the Red Queen series by Victoria Aveyard (she’s on Tumblr! go give her a follow!) and let me tell you, I think it’s earned a spot in my heart forever as one of my favorite book series (because you can never have just one!). Thought I’d pop on here to fangirl a bit over it and mourn the bittersweet feeling you get when you read a really good book series. I’m just gonna list some of my favorite details from the books, specifically what I like about each character, and remember the happy stuff before I forget most of this. WARNING! There may be spoilers! READ WITH CAUTION!

Mare:

Ok so she’s probably a good place to start since she’s the main character. Surprisingly, she wasn’t my favorite character in the series. That being said, she’s still an extremely well written character and I appreciate her a lot. Mare is everything I wish I could be sometimes. She’s stubborn and cocky but they’re not necessarily a bad thing. I wish I could be as assertive with people as she is, and she’s really good at drawing boundaries where I am not. I can definitely take a lot from her character, mostly that no matter what, I am not inferior to anyone else and that although it may seem like one person can’t do anything in this big scary world, that’s absolutely not true. Most of all, I admire her because she had every reason to end up a villain, but it was her choices that made her a hero. That being said, there are some characteristics that made her a bit annoying, like how she neglects her true feelings a lot of the time for literally no reason. She can also be a bit too stubborn sometimes, and is unwilling to compromise. At the same time, these flaws work for her and make her an extremely well rounded character. 

Cal:

Onto my literally favorite book guys ever written. Cal was by far my favorite character in the series. There’s just something so charming about him and I immediately fell in love with this dork the second we’re introduced to him. I think he was my favorite because I saw a lot of my own characteristics in him. We both wear our hearts very plainly on our sleeves when it comes to who and what we love, and he taught me to not be ashamed of that. I don’t have to compromise and wear a mask all the time. It’s ok to let people know how you feel and being vulnerable is so far from being weak. It’s a trait that I’ve been ashamed of having for years, but he taught me that in most cases, it’s actually a very good quality to have. I also loved that he wasn’t your stereotypical prince at all. He’s quirky and a bit socially awkward sometimes (also me 100%) and he has interests that aren’t necessarily fitting for his status. Another thing that his character evolves into is learning to let other’s lead too. He learns that it’s okay to be soft on the inside and it’s ok to not be a warrior all the time, and it’s not my job to have the world on my back. Despite this, there are some not so desirable characteristics that we both own up to as well. He’s pretty unwilling to let people go, (especially Maven) and it makes him pretty clingy. He’s also a bit oblivious to a lot of situations, and super naive. But again, all of these “bad” traits make him a 3d character that could pretty much live in our own world. He also makes terrible puns and I love him for that too lol. 

Kilorn: 

Kilorn was a character that I wound up liking in the end, but I wish that he could’ve played a bigger part in the story. Kilorn is the best friend I think everyone wants to have. I immediately didn’t ship him and Mare, because their kind of friendship is one best suited for the friend zone. (Sorry buddy :( ) Just because they’re not suited for a romantic relationship doesn’t make Mare and Kilorn’s platonic relationship any less special or enviable. They both just want what’s best for each other and make a conscious effort throughout the whole series to check in on each other when possible. I loved Kilorn’s absolute determination to do anything for Mare and he reminded me a lot of Finn from Star Wars. (i.e. the PERFECT best friend but not boyfriend) I loved how he took care of Mare’s family when she was away and is overall a really solid support system for not just Mare but the entire Barrow family. 

Farley:

Farley was one that we don’t hear much of til the second book, but she’s also an amazing character. Most of what I said about Mare applies here. She is probably one of the toughest character’s ever written. I mean come on! Who else but Diana Farley could basically walk through hell and still come out fighting? I’m not gonna be too sweet on her though, because I feel like she could’ve been written a bit better. She was a bit unrealistically tough, and her immediate pull towards aggression is understandable to an extent, but nothing seems to break her fully. She has cracks and chips, yes, but every other character, even Evangeline Samos (who I’ll get to later), has a breaking point,  but she doesn't. We never see her lash out. Nevertheless, I think Farley is also a really great character, and I ended up liking her more towards the end of the series after she softened up a bit. Despite what I said, it’s still important to see a female character who is in most cases stronger than the male characters. 

Evangeline: 

Ok, so Evangeline comes in a close second to Cal. There’s just so much about her that you end up loving, and I love how in the series you at first want to kill her, but later on in the series you end up loving her. It’s a super interesting character arch and one that we don’t see super often in books. Usually when someone turns from enemy to friend it ends up in a romantic relationship. Her’s is different because she ends up becoming one of Mare’s strongest allies and friends instead of having her end up in a romantic relationship because of her change in alliances. I honestly don’t have much to say about her bad characteristics, because most of those she ends up growing out of by the end of the series, but there are couple things. She’s isn’t very willing to let go of her loved ones even though she has grown up in a toxic household. She’s also a bit lustful, and most of the time once we get insight to what her view of the story is, she is constantly trying to be with her lover Elane. Not that there’s anything bad with it, but I just think that there’s more to life than having a s.o. no matter what your sexual orientation is. Besides that, she’s still one of my favorites. 

Maven:

Alright onto the one I’ve been dreading. (And probably some major spoilers) I’m probably going to get some hate for this one if this blows up because half of the Red Queen fandom likes him and the other half hates his guts. I fall into the later category. Even when he was pretending to be good in the first book, I honestly didn’t like him that much. He was a bit whiny and super clingy towards Mare. I honestly am surprised that I didn’t see the betrayal coming because he didn’t do much good until the end when his plan was in motion and his help ended up being more like a cheerio trail to a death trap. Throughout the series, he’s a total monster and is almost inhumanly bad the whole time. I know this is due to his mother meddling with his head, but what he does to Mare is really disturbing and I don’t understand why people still ship them. I unfortunately also believe that he really was unsalvageable. There wasn’t a piece of him left and honestly I don’t think he’s truly been himself since he was an infant. That being said, all of this is why he makes a good villain. 

The Barrow family: 

I didn’t want to do one for each of them, but this las one is just a comment on how perfect the family dynamic between the Barrow family is. In most dystopian teen novels, you don’t get a lot of family if any family at all. This series takes the complete opposite approach. As a person with a lot of siblings, I can attest and relate to a lot of the family stuff presented in the books. I love how imperfectly perfect the whole family is. 

So that’s it! I might do more commentary on each of them if I forget something but that’s it for now! Sorry for the long post!

[amplesalty]

Christmas 2019: Day 9 - The Christmas Hope (2009)

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

Nine months of gestation!

On reflection, I can see that the past two entries on this years list have been a bit of a downer. Far too centered in talk of mental illness, depression and the like. Let’s perk things up a bit with...*checks notes*...shit.

Right now millions of people across the planet (or galaxy as it were) are enjoying/not enjoying the end to a very different cinematic trilogy. Me? I have a long overdue wrap up to attend to that started many moons ago thanks to a certain little film about a certain pair of shoes based on a certain song. Quite why I’m doing this know I don’t know. I can only suspect that I’ve seen one too many reflective social media posts now that we’re reaching both the end of a year and decade, perhaps I’m subconsciously wanted to sort out unfinished business, hence looking at stuff like this, Christmas Story Live and the Christmas Carol Musical.

The movie starts with Traci here recording herself singing a song before commenting ‘American Idol here I come!’. The camera pans all through her house looking at pictures of her daughter, soppy picture frames with ‘I LOVE YOU MOMMY’ written on them and no sign of a boyfriend/husband so she has the basis for a feel good story if she does make it on. Might need to jazz it up somewhere along the line if we’re to really tug at the audiences heartstrings but it’s a start. This actress would go on to play Vicky in the live action Fairly Odd Parents movies so that’s another tie in to a previous entry. Apparently there’s a third one of those and I’m not sure if I’ve seen it.

She literally runs into a couple on her way to work, knocking their teddy bear to the floor which they graciously give to her when she mentions that her daughter would love it. This is Nathan and Megan from The Christmas Blessing, sadly both recast. Actually, maybe that’s a good thing. Not sure I’d be able to take NPH seriously after all those H&K movies recently. Nathan is a bit more of a ginger this time around, rather than the dirty blonde thing NPH has going on. Megan is expecting and they have about a bajillion teddies so they don’t mind passing one along. Hey, someone probably got you that as a gift. Be grateful!

Meanwhile, the police arrest a drug dealer and find she has a malnourished baby in her apartment so in swoop child services to save the day.

Mr. T feels your pain.

I hope you weren’t getting too attached to Traci by the way because about fifteen minutes into the film, shortly after making a heartfelt promise to her daughter that they were going to decorate the Christmas tree once she got home from work and that she had a very special present for her this year, she promptly gets run over.

Have you ever crossed the road, and looked the wrong way? A car's nearly on you? So what do you do? Something very silly; you freeze. Your life doesn't flash before you, cause you're too fucking scared to think, you just freeze and pull a stupid face.

I know I shouldn’t be surprised given this is one of those melodramatic, Hallmark movies and this whole series has been overly morbid up to this point but it still kinda threw me. Here we are all nice and happy, Traci’s going about her day and there’s a nice Christian, soft rock Christmas ballad playing in the background and then BOOM, SUV to the face.

Then it cuts to her daughter, Emily, going through the Christmas decorations before settling on a angel which she ponders on for a moment before looking to the heavens as she’s having this moment of intuition.

But when child services pop their head in again to take her away, they find that all their usual helpers are fully booked for the holidays so what else can they do? One of the workers, Patricia, has no choice but to take her home. It’s not by the book but, damnit, it’s Christmas and we’re going to give this kid some degree of stability. By sheer coincidence, Patricia happens to be the mother of one Sean Addision who was the kid that died following a car accident the start of Christmas Blessing which caused Nathan to have his Dr Cox crisis of confidence moment. These movies are just ridiculous to how everyone's lives are so intertwined.

Like, up to this point, we met Traci who then bumped into Nathan and Megan, before going to work and having a young, troubled teen skip out on his bill but Patricia was in at the same time and tipped really generously to make up for it. That same kid then pretty much steals her bag following accident and also knew Sean who was mentoring him in one of those Big Brother mentoring programs.

Patricia’s husband, Mark, is played by James Remar, he of The Warriors fame and, more pertinent to this blog, he was in the Miracle on 34th Street remake and one of the segments in the Tales from the Darkside movie. Theirs is a very frosty relationship currently owing to the death of Sean, there’s no sense of chemistry between these two and I’m surprised they’re actually as close in age as they are, Remar only 4 years older. Feels like there’s more of like a 10-20 year gap. He gets on very well with Emily though, they have this instant rapport whilst Patricia is more distant which is understandable. She obviously has to keep things professional as she can’t get too attached to these kids and doesn’t want them getting attached to her, plus there’s probably ongoing issues from Sean’s death, maybe she’s not prepared to slip back into that motherly role again. Which you can tell by that dinner she serves; rolls of wafer thin ham, cherry tomatoes, carrot sticks and celery? That’s just what all the kids want.

At least she’ll read Emily a bedtime story, ‘I’ll Love You Forever’ which documents a mother who sings to her song that she’ll love him forever, even when he becomes a rebellious teenager who thinks it’s lame for her to do that. This leads to the very strange visual of him cradiling her in his arms on a rocking chair and singing it to her when she’s old and frail, a mirror image of how she first sang to him when he was a baby. This really hits Patricia in the feels as she felt distant from Sean as he seemed closer to his father, wanting to impress him by picking the sports and classes he thought his father wanted him to take. She even seems to partly blame her husband for their sons death as he switched around his work schedule to come home early for Christmas, which in turn led to Sean coming home early too. If he’d just come home on the day he intended this never would have happened! That seems grossly unfair. Even when she passed along a family heirloom in the form of her fathers watch, he was unimpressed and even managed to break it whilst horsing around with a friend in his room.

The massively tangled web of these characters comes into play again when Megan is going through some things and finds an old Christmas gift which sends Nathan into some sort of Nam flashback. Turns out Sean was holding it as he was wheeled into the hospital and Nathan had taken it upon himself to make sure it found its way to its intended destination but he just forgot about it over the years. I actually went back to check this and ,yeah, that is in the previous movie. I had this whole thing pegged as just a series of independent stories with loose connections throughout but no, apparently they had whole plot points planned out in advance.

Nathan and Patricia do interact several times as she takes the crack baby to the hospital to be checked up. There’s this strange level of frustration akin to An American Tail where Nathan keeps getting little flashbacks in his head but he’s never quite able to connect the dots.

But of course he eventually does and the present turns out to be, say it with me now, the broken watch! Perhaps more meaningful though is the accompanying note which reveals Sean intended to study social work at college because he wanted to help kids just like his mom. This seems to serve as a form of closure for her but I feel like you could already start drawing that sort of conclusion. I mean, the guy was already in that Big Brother program so you were clearly already having some sort of influence on him.

Strike two of the big overly emotional finale comes when it’s suggested Emily puts the angel atop the tree which promptly makes her bolt out of the room. Everyone is left thinking they’ve upset her but she comes back clutching a picture which she wedges onto the tree, a picture not of her mother as I had suspected but of Sean. She says he is her angel and she feels like whenever she’s felt all alone, he’s been there to help here. Awww.

The big showstopper though is the troubled kid finally coming good and, after realising who everyone is in this story, returns Traci’s bag to the Addison home. Inside was her camera and on that camera was the video from the very start of the movie. Turns out she wrote that song as a Christmas gift for Emily.

Though, I feel the writers fell short of a grand slam here. Near the end, Nathan shares the story with Megan about giving the gift to Sean’s parents and how it gave him his own little bit of closure after how much Sean’s death affected him back then. Megan goes into labour shortly afterwards and I was fully expecting them to decide to call the baby Sean but no such luck.

Christmas Blessing was lacking a little bit in the big emotional ending so it feels like this one is making up for that and then some. It’s not as cheesy as that song from Christmas Shoes but still delivers that overly sentimental feeling. Again, it’s something I am loathed to admit but it got to me a little bit. This whole movie has that same morbid energy as the other two but in a slightly different way, the first two felt like you spent the entire movie watching people who were on deaths door before something happened at the end to soften the blow. Here they just give you the death right up front and everyone is left to cope with the aftermath and reflect on how deal with it. It’s like an encapsulation of everything that Nathan has gone through over these movies, facing death in his personal and professional life but coming to terms with it.

You know what’s bullshit though? No sign of the eponymous Christmas Shoes anywhere. They’re even in the box of stuff that Megan finds the old Christmas present in. How can you make this your big conclusion and not bring them back? You brought them back the last one, you couldn’t have Megan tag along and give them to Emily at the end as some sort of passing of the torch? It was her destiny, Nathan got them for his dead mother, Charlie got them for his dead mother, those shoes have been robbed of their purpose in life.

[infantacarlota]

hi guys! here’s carlota’s bio + a list of wanted connections. if you’d like to plot please drop me a message and i’ll find you!!  i’m seldom on the discord server bc i get overwhelmed easily/large group chats stress me out, but i love to chat and plot, in fact i’m a sucker for extensive plotting and i do want a bit of everything for carlota so pls throw any and all ideas you have my way. 

- ̗̀✰ •【 LILY JAMES / FEMALE / 27 】announcing the arrival of her royal highness, ( CARLOTA LUÍSA ISABEL ), the ( INFANTA ) of ( PORTUGAL ). I’ve heard that she is ( IMPULSIVE ) & ( PARANOID ) but can also be ( INTUITIVE ) & ( PASSIONATE ). ( CARLOTA ) is arranged to marry ( MICHIEL HUISMAN, BOB MORLEY, ALFONSO HERRERA ). Rumor has it ( SHE'S THE REASON HER BROTHER THE CROWN PRINCE IS IN A COMA ). We hope you enjoy your stay at London!

STATS

name: carlota luísa isabel, house of coimbra, infanta of portugal age: 26 family:

henrique (father, deceased) terezia (mother, deceased) luís (uncle, 52, regent, childless younger brother of henrique)  pedro (brother, 33, in a coma) ____ (brother, 29-31) ____ (brother, 27-29) ____ (brother, 23-24) silvia (sister, 22-23) ____ (brother, 19-20)

relationship status: betrothed to espen jarle lillegarde, crown prince of norway.  language(s) spoken: portuguese (fluent), english (fluent), french (well), spanish (fluent), italian (decently), deutsch(okay-ish), danish (okay-ish) eyes: brown hair: brown physical ailments: not an ailment per se, but she broke her right arm in her youth and it didn't heal properly so it's slightly crooked at the elbow. she's a little self-conscious about it and it aches at times, especially if she has to carry something heavy, but for the moment that's about it. neurological ailments: low key depressed but isn't even close to being aware of it because depression is such a foreign thing to her. this quote explains it nicely:

"Being an extrovert with depression and constantly maintaining a lively personality can sometimes feel like you are lying to the world. It makes depression something only you can deal with, when you can finally take off “the mask” [...] suffering from depression as an extrovert comes down to not being taken seriously. It’s hearing how you must be over-exaggerating your condition because there is no way you can be laughing with friends on the same night you go home and cry yourself to sleep. [...] is knowing that people will make you happy because sometimes being happy by yourself seems like an impossible task. It is having a constant need to be there for everyone but yourself. It is – as crazy as this sounds – feeling as if you aren’t allowed to be depressed [...] You have to be the person people gravitate towards to when they want to have a good time."

smoking: mostly in the past drugs: in the past and here's to hoping it stays there alcohol: in the past: drank a lot and often during her teenage/boarding school years. started drinking way less after that and was primarily a social drinker, but enjoyed a glass of wine every other meal. currently: keeps telling herself she'll have just one or two glasses but ends up drinking the whole bottle. when she's feeling down, it helps her stay bubbly, like people are used to see her. tattoos: pretty much always covered. 1 dainty lavender tattoo under her left breast, 1 small conch shell on the inside of her left arm style: enjoys looking stylish but values comfort above all else. doesn't follow fashion trends but enjoys playing with styles. has worn pant suits, bowties, and ties to several events. she often opts for comfortable flats (even trainers when she was younger) when wearing long dresses that cover her feet.  secret: she’s the reason her brother, the king, is in a coma

personality

sociable, bubbly, energetic, romantic, intuitive, impulsive, kind, compassionate, audacious, youthful, low-key very sad and depressed, curious, passionate, slightly air-headed, well meaning, romantic, at times speaks without thinking, used to be very gullible growing up, insecure, authentic, bad liar, self-deprecating (esp in the past couple years)

BIO (tw: death, drugs):

[ for carlota’s full / proper bio + more in-depth explanations, please click here & check the ‘biography’ tab.]

for nearly half a decade before carlota’s father was born, instability was the norm in portugal. carlota’s father was born just as the conflict was drawing to an end and he   spent his whole life honoring his father’s hard work, heavily focusing on diplomacy, and being slightly ( but understandably ) paranoid about the safety of his family.

like his parents, carlota’s father was fortunate to marry out of love. carlota’s mother isn’t portuguese ( she's a hungarian princess ) nor was she supposed to have become henrique’s wife, but the two had been in love almost since they first met when they were teenagers. at court, some never fully accepted terezia, still, the pair was very happy together. 

carlota’s family was always very close-knit and kinda nosy about each other’s business. she has always enjoyed this greatly as she’s a family and people-person, but at times it felt suffocating, even when she was only a child. 

carlota’s innate almost child-like passion and curiosity for life as well as her good-humored casual demeanor have always been both a blessing and a curse and often landed into trouble. she’s well-meaning, always, but sometimes speaks without thinking or acts impulsively. she’s a little bit air-headed and selfish in this manner, and her emotions and feelings often control her more than she controls them. 

still, she has three older brothers with very strong personalities so from a very early age she’s been trying to keep up with them and showing them that girls can do everything boys can. she’s never been rebellious or assertive by nature, although she likes to make bold choices and statements at times, but having a lot of brothers just forced those sides of her to develop. 

when she was 8, shortly after her youngest brother was born her mother passed away - this was carlota’s first heartbreak  

carlota’s relationship with her father was always...... not complicated, but perhaps filled with misunderstandings and good intentions gone wrong. he kept her at bay a lot because carlota has her mother’s demeanor, and he worried immensely about her future. her father always felt like out of all his children carlota was going to be the one who was going to struggle the most with an arranged marriage so he was always pressuring her to focus on her romantic life in a serious manner which carlota often found bothersome. 

in her teens carlota felt very isolated and out of place. surrounded by people but all alone. that's how she felt.

annnnnnd then her father sent her to boarding school which was never supposed to have happened but he changed his mind thinking it was the best for carlota (spoiler alert - it wasn’t)

carlota was extremely upset and sad over this. being apart from her family and friends she had known all her life brought her great pain and frustration.  she also couldn’t understand her father’s change of heart, and a part of her felt like she had done something deeply wrong. honestly she felt kind of abandoned. 

these years were somewhat tumultuous, especially because she wasn’t making the right kind of friends - the ones that are good for you. this lead her to have made several questionable life choices. she also got in the habit of drinking too much and doing drugs (she never officially went to rehab but she was very close to and she honestly probably should have gone even if only to really file this chapter of her life away).

all of this is, mostly, behind her thought. it took years but she realised she was fostering unhealthy friendships and habits and that the longer it took her to walk away the harder it would become to do so at all. eventually she cut them all out of her life. 

( “what is it with you and your uncontrollable need to be liked?” one of her acquaintances from boarding school asked her once, and she was already a little drunk, so the words didn’t hit her as hard as they normally would have. her shoulders simply rose and fell in a lazy shrug. “i don’t know.” it had been an honest answer, she kept talking anyway, no filter between her thoughts and her mouth. “i guess i - well, i've never been the pretty one, or the smart one, or the brooding one, or the bold one, or the funny one... but i’ve always been good at meeting people so i guess... i guess very early on i just thought ‘maybe i can be the likable one’.” )

her father died of heart decease when she was 21. she always got along with her eldest brother and the two became even closer after their father’s death, however, a couple months before the summit carlota thought she wouldn’t be participating as she had been seeing someone, but the boy ended up deciding that they were better off parting ways. it was all very last minute and out of the blue and he did it via text and she didn’t take the news well in the least so she ended up resorting to finding comfort in bad old habits and companies.

her brother grew increasingly worried and one day the two had a quarrel in the palace’s foyer after carlota showed up to dinner so merrily out of it she could barely stand. at one point he tried to reach for her but she pushed him away - once, twice, trice, and on the forth time he lost his balance and fell down the long imposing staircase.

she was so inebriated that it took her brain moment to register what had happened but once it dawned on her she was immediately struck by a wave of frantic panic and promptly made her way down the staircase ( nearly tripping on her own feet and tumbling down multiple times ). her brother was still conscious when she reached him, falling on her knees by his side, already crying and apologizing. the last thing he told her was to leave so no one would blame her for what had happened. 

carlota is not an agitator. she’s not pro nor against the summit. she dislikes the idea of spending her life with a stranger or someone who won’t love her, but above that at the moment she simply feels a great weight of responsibility towards her brother and is just trying to do what he wanted her to. she’s going with the flow in a dutiful manner, trying to always be on her best behaviour, while at the same time trying to stay as true to herself as possible. 

at the moment, she almost likes that things are being figured out for her. it goes against her usual demeanor, but she has so much on her mind and feels so much guilt that anything that figures out her responsibilities for her is welcome. frankly, she’s walking towards a big depression, but depression isn’t something she has ever experienced before and personally doesn’t think it’s something she herself could experience.   

i want SO MANY THINGS for carlota. good and bad. i want positive character development, i want negative character development. i want to break her and put her together again. i want her to grow, learn, and face past mistakes... and maybe make new ones. 

i’m all about extensive plotting, and i’m in things for the long run, so throw all the ideas at me.

WANTED CONNECTIONS 

FAMILY

siblings  - ill be posting her family request here.

cousins: carlota’s mother wasn’t portuguese, she was likely german, hungarian, belgian, austrian, english, or french. so if your character is from one of those countries and you’d be up for them being related to carlota let me know!!!

ON GOOD TERMS

(open) best friend: someone carlota is very close to at the moment  

(open) childhood friend(s): someone carlota has known pretty much all of her life  

(open) accidental friendship: carlota and this person weren’t supposed to get along because of their personalities but instead of clashing, to everyone’s surprise, they compliment each other nicely  

(open) “a boy tried to make us compete for his attention so we ditched him and became close friends”: self-explanatory lmao i’d love for them to be super close. or maybe he was dating the girl and tried to fool around with carlota so she told the other girl and she dumped and him and her and carlota became close friends. many options.  

(open) exes on good terms: i love this trope - two people who dated but who are still friendly (and possibly super close) 

(open) one time date (positive): carlota and this person went on a date/found themselves on a date but quickly figured out they’d be better off as friends, and they are 

ON BAD TERMS OR IFFY

(open) the guy who ditched her: carlota didn't think she would be participating in the summit as she was beginning to develop a relationship with someone. whether they were officially seeing each other/dating or not is open, but around four months ago he ended what they had, momentarily leaving carlota in a really bad place. i left this super open and vague on purpose, i would love to plot it with whoever takes him.

(open) the boy from the “a boy tried to make us compete for his attention so we ditched him and became close friends” connection: self-explanatory lmao  

(open) betrothal’s romantic interest: i’d obviously love for carlota and her betrothal to be end game (like, romantically, not just being married for appearances) but i’m also big on stuff taking its time and i’d love for her betrothal’s to have a romantic interest (even if it’s onesided and he’s not interested in her - altho he can be obviously). above all, i just want a scene like this one lmao

(open) clashed from the start: clarlota and this person never got along (open)

(open) former teenage-hood friends: carlota and these people used to be close when they were teenagers but aren’t anymore. 

(open) former best friend: carlota and this person used to be very close but something happened that drove them apart. maybe they were part of the same group of friends and when carlota suddenly started bailing on and not wanting to be associated with them the former best friend felt used and betrayed, like they were had only been a “party” friend to carlota 

(open) exes on bad terms: self explanatory  

(open) one time date (negative): carlota and this person went on a date/found themselves on a date and it went awful 

(open) toxic romance: 

NEUTRAL OR UNCLEAR

betrothal: i’d obviously love for carlota and her betrothal to be end game (like, romantically, not just being married for appearances) but obvs that’s not mandatory. his personality is completely open, honestly do with him whatever you wish i just ask that he’s not a very artsy person. as a suggestion, i’d love for his secret to be something like he has toddler from a past fling/relationship, or even if that’s not his secret i honestly just like the idea of him having a secret or not so secret kid. fc suggestions for him are: michiel huisman, bob morley, oliver jackson cohen, and santiago cabrera.

(open) star-crossed: carlota and this character have, or had, feelings for each other but for whatever reason their relationship just can’t work out.  

(open) met in a bar: : this could have happened when they were kids/teens or recently. carlota and this royal met in a bar without knowing of each other’s backgrounds.  

(open) push and pull: : there’s flirtation and mutual interest… and there’s also a lot of annoyance.  

(open) bonded over doing smth they shouldn’t: this could have happened when they were kids/teens or recently. carlota and this person were caught (or nearly caught) doing something they shouldn’t be doing (such as sneaking out or sneaking back in)… individually. it was a chance encounter and their first meeting & can go many ways.  

(open) flirtation: (open)

(open) accidental bonding: this person accidentally confided something in carlota, whether because they were drunk/tipsy, or simply completely saturated and needed to vent. 

(open) betrothal’s ex: id honestly love for carlota to meet an ex of her betrothal and they get along super well. i have several ideas for this tbh but yeah!!

[maevefiction]

Your Light in the Mist - Chapter 21

A gentle tugging at my left nipple and a heavy but strangely soothing heat on my pelvis lifted me slowly from my slumber. I tried to open my eyes several times, first one, then the other, finally managing to coordinate and get both un-shut at the same time so I could actually see. The room was dim, the only light source the street lamps from outside, spilling in over the top and out from the sides of the curtains. I lifted my right arm, and it felt like I was moving through water. As my hand hit something solid and warm, the tugging at my nipple ceased and Tom’s face rose into view. I waved at him, fingers bending toward my wrist and thumb pointed out, as if I were a small child.

He smiled, voice hushed. “Hello, beautiful.”

I wiped the drool from my mouth with the back of my hand, speech still slurred from sleep. “Finished?”

His voice in my ear as he ground against me. “Actually, I’m just getting started.”

My legs moved as if they had a mind of their own, sliding out from under his, falling open and wrapping around his waist, ankles crossed and heels resting on his ass.

I tapped his shoulder. “Start you. Now. Can.”

He chuckled, then moaned as he worked himself inside me, rooting deeper and deeper until I felt his balls nestled against my skin. His mouth found mine, kissing me until I could barely breathe. We pulled away from each other momentarily, then resumed, repeating the process as he rocked gently into me, undulating his hips. When I finally joined in the dance, he sped up slightly, pulling almost fully out and pushing back in, cock lingering to rub against my walls just enough to drive me mad with want, but not enough to make me come.

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed, my words jumbled by more than just sleepiness. “Fast. Er. Faster. Hard. You.”

He shook his head and whispered. “Not yet.”

I whined, and he shifted, resting his weight on one arm as he moved the other so his hand could reach my mound. He rubbed the outer lips, circling with the base of his palm, smiling in the faint light as my whine morphed into a throaty grunt of pleasure. I lost track of time as he continued, his pace remaining the same, until he dipped his finger into my wetness and found my clit. My fingernails dug into his back as the orgasm washed over me, waves of pleasure starting at my core and rippling out to finally reach the tips of my fingers and toes, like a rock thrown into a still pond. He began thrusting hastily, rubbing my nub vigorously, mouth on mine once again, rhythmically sucking on my tongue. I felt his balls draw up, the only sound in the room him whimpering into my open mouth as he came. I moved my legs down so they were twined around his thighs for leverage and rode him until I climaxed again, this one short but so powerful that I bit into his shoulder to stop myself from crying out and waking everyone in the building.

He collapsed on top of me. “Worth waking up for?”

I nodded drowsily. “Yah. Betcha.”

I could feel him grinning against my chest, and he rose up on his elbows. “Maude?”

I patted his cheek. “Mmm.”

“You were very, very wet when I woke you. Soaking. Sopping, even. Were you, perchance, having naughty dreams?”

I grabbed his jaw and shook it as I nodded again. “You. Lestat. Hot. Too much sexy. May die if happens. Bastard.”

He laughed. “You are irresistibly adorable when you’re half asleep.” He lifted himself off me, got up and stood at the side of the bed, holding his hand out to me. “Bathroom?”

I grumbled at the prospect, but knew I should take care of business if I wanted to sleep well. He escorted me to the bowl, guided me as I sat, helped me off when I was done, then walked me back to bed.

“Here you are, my love. I’ll be right back.” He kissed my forehead and went back in to the bathroom. I squinted at the clock. It read 3:30. I meant to tell him I was impressed with his speed reading skills but was asleep again before he returned to me.

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

All of our Tuesday was spent addressing things we’d either been neglecting or needed to take care of before we left the city on Friday. I found a full service laundry and dropped off our combined pile of clothes before we stopped at McDonald’s for breakfast, then found a real estate agent willing to meet us at the house immediately. After apologizing profusely for what she was about to endure within, we toured the property with her. Upon inspecting the garage, we discovered it was filled to the brim with boxes, and that the former servant’s quarters above it had been converted into a recording studio. There were more guitars, a drum set, keyboards…the works. The agent’s on the spot appraisal based on local comps was seven hundred and fifty thousand as is, with a tentative value of at least a million if I painted, changed out all the fixtures, and converted the kitchen/bar area back into a kitchen and dining room with either a classic or modern theme, depending upon my taste and aligned with the look I chose for the rest of the home. The recording studio might attract a buyer, but she thought it would be better if I took out all the equipment and billed it as ready to finish space, or, preferably, turn it back into an apartment. I asked about having someone come in to clean up and hold an estate sale on my behalf, explaining I couldn’t be there in person, and she said she had a company she preferred to work with and would forward their contact info later on in the day.

I phoned Barty and asked him to email the loan holder information and balance due to me, and when it arrived I phoned the company and advised I’d be paying it off at the end of the week. The customer service rep I spoke with promised to have all the remittance details to me no later than Thursday morning. It felt strange, the idea of owning a home I’d hated to be in, but I reminded myself I wouldn’t have to LIVE there because it was nothing more than an investment in my future.    

We picked up our laundry, and after that it was off to Dress Barn to find something to wear for the upcoming bullshit. There were plenty of little boutiques around, but, let’s face it, good luck finding something above a size six. I knew that I’d be able to find something in my size at Dress Barn, even it wasn’t a perfect match for my ‘personal style’.

Seeing Tom holding the pile of dresses I wanted to try on as we headed to the fitting rooms struck me as hilariously funny, and I whipped out my phone to take a picture. He made me take another, in which he rolled his eyes and appeared as exasperated as possible. I dared him to post it online, and as soon as his hands were free he put it on Tumblr. I had him edit it when I saw the finished product.

Greetings and Salutations, Followers.

Not being the sort to back down from a dare, here’s a photo of me graciously attending to the needs my social media manager while she scours the racks at Dress Barn. I have a sneaking suspicion that the sole purpose of her goading me into posting this is so she’s able to deduct her purchases as a business expense.

Edited to add…said social media manager would like me to inform you that the ‘ask box’ will be open at some point today for ten minutes. Please check back periodically so you don’t miss out on the opportunity to send in your question.

Enjoy the day!

Tom

I forced myself to say no when he asked if he could join me in the fitting room so he’d be present and accounted for if any other needs that required tending cropped up, leaving him dejected and standing alone outside the entrance next to the service desk. He was wearing his running shorts, a white T-shirt, blue baseball cap and his running shoes, and while I knew if anyone looked closely he’d be recognized, the place wasn’t terribly busy so I figured it would be fine as long as I moved at a reasonable pace.

There were ten dresses in the stall with me, five different styles in both size twelve and fourteen. Women’s clothing sizes are a source of endless frustration and full of fuckery…a twelve often fits like a ten for one style, or a fourteen for another. Completely impossible to tell until you try it on, and then begins the parade back and forth to the rack to find that style in the next size up or down. Men’s stuff is so much more straightforward…a medium shirt is a medium shirt. A thirty-six waist is a thirty six waist. Hence my penchant for doing all my casual clothes shopping in the fella section. My double D’s complicated matters as well, the bottom half of me always a ten or twelve, the top more often than not a fourteen, sometimes a sixteen. Fine when buying separates, but dresses were a foray into a nightmare of too tight here, too loose there, too long everywhere, too…what the fuck is this even? It always seemed to me that many plus size designers were under the impression that there’s a direct correlation between a woman’s girth and her height. Not so, morons. Not so. When we put on weight, we do NOT get taller, sorry to say.

Three of the styles went into the ‘hell no’ pile prior immediately, having made me either look like a sausage or a matron, but the other two had promise. One was a short-sleeved faux wrap design with a black skirt and a black and white geometric patterned top. The wrap part was asymmetrical at the waist, which was surprisingly slimming. I couldn’t even get the twelve past my chest, but the fourteen, though a little snug in that area, was comfortable everywhere else. I walked out to show Tom and found him taking selfies with two women, probably in their mid-forties. His attention shifted when he saw me, and they looked my way as well, waving and saying hi. They complimented my dress, thanked Tom for the photos and were on their way.

I smirked, shaking my head. “Christ, I leave you alone for five minutes and the ladies are all up in your business.”

He shrugged, a slight blush creeping up from under his shirt to his neck. “They were returning something and I heard them whispering to each other, trying to determine if it was actually possible that Tom Hiddleston was standing outside a Dress Barn fitting room in New Orleans. I couldn’t help but say hello.” He pointed at me. “That looks amazing on you, by the way.”

I grinned. “Nice segue, as always. Thanks. This one is Viewing Dress.  Number two, Funeral Dress, awaits. I will most likely never wear either of them ever again.”

Funeral Dress was actually kinda funky, a black cold shoulder design, exaggerated V-neck, loosely fitted with three-quarter sleeves and silver embellishments. The twelve fit perfectly, hem hanging at four inches or so above my knee. Tom was resting against the wall to the right of the doorframe when I stepped out of the fitting room, biting his lip when he turned and looked me up and down, then leaned over to bite the exposed portion of my right shoulder, whispering ‘I. Want. You.’ while pulling away.

He laughed evilly at my semi-suppressed moan. “Oh, I like this one much better.”

I raised my brows. “Gosh, me too. Maybe this one will make another appearance at some point after all.”

He resumed his duties as dress carrier while I searched for a pair of high heels, which were as foreign and unacceptable to me as pineapple on pizza. After trying on what seemed like a thousand of the blasted things, I settled on a sensible black velvet pair. The toe was roomy and not too pointy, and though the heel was ridiculously narrow and three inches high, I didn’t totter too badly in them. I chuckled when I caught sight of myself in a mirror, hair in a sloppy ponytail, X-files T-shirt, hiking shorts and then…ninety dollar heels. When I turned to point out my serious fashion fug to Tom, I noticed he’d sat down on a bench further down the aisle, the one I’d left my sandals under.

I waved. “Hola. Como esta?”

He met my gaze as he rested his hands on his knees. “Would it be too much trouble to ask you to walk towards me very, very slowly?”

I shook my head, put my hands on my hips and embraced my very first runway model moment as I strutted towards him. Midway through I burst out laughing and had to stop, bending over to catch my breath. He was in front of me in an instant, hands on my arms and setting me upright.

“Maude, do you have any idea…good Christ…the way your hips roll in those things is downright obscene.” He pulled me to him, cock hard against me in an unfamiliar spot.

I thrust my hips forward. “Oooh, man…I wish I was this tall all the time. It would be so much easier for you to fuck me standing up.” I stepped out of the heels and picked them up, walked to the bench, plopped down, then stuffed them back in their box as he stood there, mouth agape. I put my Birkis back on and stood, box tucked under my arm. “Let’s go, cowboy. Much to do and little time to do it in, as always.” He retrieved the dresses from where he’d left them hanging on the edge of one of the shelves, and obediently followed me to the checkout counters up front.

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

Back at the hotel, we ordered in Chinese for lunch, scarfed half of it down and put the rest in the fridge for dinner, intending to spend the rest of the day working. We Skyped with Luke about the upcoming film festival schedule, then we took turns to chat with him individually. Simon kept sneaking behind him and making faces and obscene gestures until Luke kicked him out of the room. They were leaving for London early on the sixteenth, which reminded me that we hadn’t booked a flight for ourselves. I took care of it as soon as our session was over, then logged in to Tumblr and opened Tom’s ask box.

He was sprawled on the bed, already well into Interview with the Vampire. He’d mentioned the screenplay to Luke, who didn’t express an opinion either way, but Simon overheard and began screaming a combination of ‘OH MY FUCKING GOD!’, ‘MAUDE!’ and ‘YOU SNEAKY LITTLE MINX!’ over and over again in the background.

After ten minutes of me sitting at the desk while attempting to weed through the two hundred emails in my inbox, I closed the ask box and began reviewing questions. I deleted the vapid ones, of which there were many, which honestly surprised me, and focused on the ones that had required some thought and were not too personal.  

I cleared my throat to get Tom’s attention. Nada. I raised my leg and poked him with my toes. He jumped, startled, and grabbed my ankle as I tried to pull away.

My left eyebrow shot up. “Wow, I’m guessing you’re liking it, then?”

He nodded vigorously. “I’d like this to be the first book you put on the website, if that’s okay.”

“Sure thing, sunshine. Will you be doing a write up or shall we make a video? Have to get the camera out to make one to answer the Tumblr ask anyway, and you’re already in a white T-shirt…”

He grinned. “Sounds fine to me. Are we betting on the number of notes again?”

I crossed my arms. “No. I don’t want to break my winning streak. And you may be smiling, but I have a feeling you’re out for blood this time.”

“But Maude, I’m so gallant and chivalrous and sweet I would never…”

“Yeah. Fuck right off. Here’s the first question…I chose three. ‘What do you enjoy most about the filmmaking process?’”

He rubbed his jaw.

“Number two. ‘How did you manage to get so skinny to play Hank Williams?’”

He nodded.

“Number three. ‘Out of all the places you’ve travelled to, which is your very favorite?’”

He pointed at me. “That’s the one right there.”

My brow furrowed. “Seriously?”

He marked his place in the book, picked it up and nearly leapt off the bed. “Where are we doing this?”

I removed the video camera bag from my carry on. “How about in front of that awesome bamboo in the courtyard?”

“Perfect. You should bring the tripod.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

I sighed. “Fine. It’s in my suitcase. You can carry it.”

There was no one around when we got downstairs and went outside, so Tom set up the tripod smack in the middle of the path. The ceiling was slatted wood, the walls white, and the giant stalks of bamboo were set in an oval inside a square raised bed, grey gravel filling the non-mulched areas. Two planters sat on either side to the front of the bed, and behind it all were the beautifully aged original windows, the burnished brown wood golden in spots from weathering.

Tom wanted to do the book discussion first. He stood in the gravel, in the center of the raised bed, towards the front, book held with both hands in front of his chest. I gave him thumbs up and hit record.

“Hello there. Welcome to the first installment of Tom’s Library –What I’m Reading.” He held the book out toward the camera. “I hold here in my hands a story that was born right here in New Orleans, Louisiana, put to paper by the amazingly talented Anne Rice, whom I was fortunate enough to meet last evening over dinner. Interview with the Vampire, the initial title of the Vampire Chronicles series. This is my first time reading her work, I’m embarrassed to admit, and though I just delved in a few short hours ago I already find myself completely immersed in the world of Lestat de Lioncourt and Louis de Point du Lac. Her prose is poetic, gorgeous, dark and expressive and if I have my way I’ll be sitting in a corner with my nose firmly planted in this…” He held it up with one hand. “For the rest of the day. These are vampires as vampires were meant to be. My thanks to you, Anne, for dinner and for lending me your very own copy. I promise to return it unscathed.” He grinned and spread his hands, book clutched in the right one. “That’s all for now. I’m certain you’ll be hearing more about it from me sooner as opposed to later. Until next time, then.” He waved and I hit the record button again to stop filming.  

I applauded. “That was gold, Hiddleston. Gold. I don’t even need to edit it.”

He set the book down gently next to the tripod. “Shall we get right into the next one?”

“Yeah. It’s fucking hot out here. My sweat is sweating.”

He paused, looking down as he readied himself, raising his head and nodding when he was prepared to proceed. I hit the record button again.

“Greetings, Hiddlestoners, and all of you who follow me on Tumblr. Today’s question is from kneelbeforeloki1985zx - ‘Out of all the places you’ve travelled to, which is your very favorite?’ Previously, I’ve always found that one impossible to answer, but now…it’s simple. The island of Kaua’i. I just spent the two most incredible weeks of my life there. There’s beautiful scenery wherever you go, the ocean is an impossible shade of blue, and so on and so on. But the best spot on the entire island is the Talk Story bookstore. I’m sure you’re aware I’m a bit of a bibliophile, and the place is chock full of unique and rare reads. There is, however, another reason why I feel so strongly about it. It’s where I met Maude.” He waved at me, trying to get me to join him. I mouthed the words ‘are you fucking insane’ and he nodded, grinning. I shrugged and walked around the tripod and into the frame, doing a giant circle wave starting with my palm out flat toward the camera at stomach level, raising it up past my face, then clockwise out to my right side.

“Hello, People of Tumblr. I’m Maude Gallagher, Tom’s social media manager. Also known as She Who Turneth the God of Mischief into a Dress-Carrying Pack Mule. Please excuse my slovenly and disgustingly sweaty appearance. For the record, as far as I’m concerned there’s really only one acceptable reason to get sweaty…and let me tell you, standing outside in ninety-nine degree heat with ninety-six percent humidity sure as shit ain’t it.”

Tom lost it completely, head back and roaring with laughter at first, then bent over with his hands on his knees. I made a valiant attempt at keeping myself together, but it was foiled when he calmed down for a moment, then whispered ‘we’re up all night to get…sweaty’ and started giggling madly. I laughed until I wept, unable to catch my breath enough to speak, and we clutched at each other as we tried to regain some semblance of control, instead dissolving into another fit of chortles and snorts whenever we looked at each other.

I held my hand out in front of me. “We are SO sorry.” More snorts. “Really. We’re normally very, very professional.” I kept my eyes forward, staring at the gravel as I inhaled and exhaled to the count of five and cleared my throat. I felt Tom’s arm slip around my waist, pulling me to him. I turned my head in his direction, surprised at how he’d sobered so quickly.

He kissed my cheek, then looked directly into the camera. “Over the past few years I’ve been asked about my relationship status more times than I care to count, and at one point I replied to the effect that when there was something to say, I’d say it. And now there is, so here we go.” I teared up, remembering what he’d said to Luke back in Kauai’i…that he wanted the whole world to hear him when he said it. His grip on my waist tightened.

“Someday we’ll have to tell you the entire tale of how we met, because it’s amazing and entertaining and, frankly, something straight out of a movie, but…long story short, we had a delightful exchange at Talk Story that ended all too soon as we both had appointments to keep. I managed to finagle her phone number, promising to call after said appointment was over. As it turned out, unbeknownst to us, our appointments were with each other and my PR manager, Luke Windsor. He’d contacted Maude to arrange a sit down to discuss my social media participation without telling her my name, and he’d only let me know that we were meeting with someone regarding the matter, nothing else.” He turned to me and smiled, and I smiled back. “I’ve heard my entire life that when you find the right person, the person meant for you, that you just…know. Love at first sight. And I never really believed in it, most likely because it had never happened to me. Until the moment I laid on eyes on this gorgeous woman, that is. I just had to meet her. It was a compulsion I couldn’t resist. And when our gazes finally locked and she smirked at me…that was that. I knew. By the end of that very first day, I was madly, deeply and completely in love with her.”    

I rolled my eyes as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Goddamn you, Hiddleston.” I shook my head and pointed my thumb in his direction. “Anyway. Yeah. What he said. And I got a really cool job out of it all, too. Seriously, though. It was the most bizarre and extraordinary thing that I’ve ever experienced. One moment, there was some creep standing behind me who wasn’t saying anything and totally freaking me out, and ten seconds later when I turned around to berate his or her appalling behavior I found myself unable to utter a word because the creep was actually this beautiful man. A beautiful man who shortly thereafter followed me out of the store and got on his knees to beg for my phone number. I resisted at first, but as you know all too well, when it comes to Tom Hiddleston, resistance is futile. Later on that same day he brought me Lindor truffles. They were what pushed me over the edge, and down into the rabbit hole I went.” He cleared his throat. “Fine. It was more than the truffles. But let’s keep this PG, shall we?”

He leaned into me, left eyebrow raised, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Must we?”

I grinned in return as I punched him in the shoulder. “Do you think it wise to encourage me in such a fashion?”

He laughed again, shaking his head “I know it’s not.” Tom turned his attention back to the camera. “So, there you have it. Kaua’i. My favorite geographical location. I look forward to answering next week’s question…if we behave ourselves perhaps Maude will join us again.” I shook my head like a four year old refusing to eat their veggies, lips clamped shut. He grinned, tongue between his teeth, curling to touch his upper lip. “A huge thanks to all of you out there…I appreciate your support more than I can express with words. I still love the work, and I’m thrilled that you still enjoy it.” He bowed as I waved and walked out of the frame to turn off the camera.

I felt him beside me, and when I looked his way he was smiling gingerly. “Was that awful? Should we try again?”

I took his hand in mine. “Let’s watch it and see.”

When it was over his head bent towards me and came to rest on my shoulder. “So? Again?”

“No way. It was real, and hilarious, and beautiful.” Sighing, I rubbed my temple against the crown of his head. “And very, very personal. You’re certain you want to put this out there?”

He stood upright, grasped my upper arms and rotated my body to face him. “Absofuckingloutely, as you say. It’s already out there, isn’t it? Vaguely, perhaps, but obvious to those who wish to see it. This just…”

“Serves as confirmation. Which you know I think is the best way to handle it. Band-Aid. Right off. No ‘Are they? Aren’t they?’ I say post this bitch and let the chips fall where they may. And have I mentioned that it’s fucking HOT OUT HERE? If I don’t get inside soon I’m going to have a meltdown in more ways than one.”

He held his chin in his left hand, thumb grazing over his jawline, stroking, making me want to run my tongue over the same spot. “I believe you have. You get the camera, I’ll grab the tripod.”

“Thank you, kind sir. Let us now adjourn to our climate-controlled room where I will offer up a silent prayer of thanks to Willis Carrier prior to dragging my sweaty ass into the shower.”

His mouth opened, as if he were about to speak, then it closed again quickly.

I pointed at him. “You were going to sing your bastardized version of Get Lucky, weren’t you?”

He feigned astonishment, hand spread wide over his upper chest, index finger across his collar bone. “What? No! What would lead you to believe that I’d do such a thing?”

“Experience. Hot, remember? Inside time. Move it, Thomas. Move. It.”

“Ooohhh, inside time. I rather like the sound of that.”

He bounded toward the doors, beaming, as I swiveled my head back and forth in mock disgust, brain far to addled to compose a witty retort.

Once upstairs and cocooned in the delightful coolness that was our room, we ate the remnants of our Chinese food, then went back to work, Tom reading and making notes along the way, while I converted the videos to the proper format and uploaded them where they belonged. Hours later, all my emails were answered, photos and videos from Comic-Con interviews and panels that had been passed on to me as requested were posted, and I’d even reviewed several new account intake forms Luke had sent earlier in the day.

I got up from the desk chair, which was an ass-killer, stretched and plopped down on the floor. I couldn’t remember precisely when I’d last done yoga, and since I was caught up for the moment the perfect opportunity to cycle through some poses seemed to have presented itself. I didn’t bother with the mat as the carpet was so plush, and as I finished, lying in Corpse pose, it occurred to me that I had never in my life spent so much uninterrupted time with another human being. Normally, two days was my maximum before I’d freak out and need to be alone…yet here I was holed up in a hotel room that consisted of less than three hundred square feet of space, perfectly content to have him constantly in my presence.

Tom hadn’t moved from his spot on the bed, pillow tucked behind his back as he leaned against the headboard, one leg bent at the knee, arm resting on it, the other leg stretched out straight, his foot dangling off the bottom of the mattress. I’d always thought my ability to focus was superior, but he had me beat, perhaps by miles. It was no wonder why he was so good at his job…he invested every bit of himself, even in the tasks others would have considered unimportant or beneath them.  

Inspired, I returned to the desk, turned on my iPod, put in my headphones and began outlining a plan for yet another version of the Prosper website, one that would include detailed bios and CVs for of all our clients as well as links to their social media accounts. Everything else just faded away as I selected potential colors to use as a theme, all of which needed to coordinate with the existing logo. I was in the middle of typing up a message to Luke asking if he’d at least let me show him some alternatives to the white on black version he preferred, Bob Marley’s ‘Is This Love?’ blaring in my ears and reminding me of what I’d been pondering as I lay on the floor earlier, when the sound disappeared and all that remained was my own voice, singing loudly. Tom was standing next to me, finger having just hit the pause button.

I reached out and touched his hip. “Sorry if I disturbed you…I didn’t even realize I was singing.”

He extended his hand to me as he removed the earbuds from the jack, pulling me to my feet when I accepted it. “It’s a marvelous song, especially in your voice…I’d forgotten it even existed. Dance with me?”

Nodding, I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started it over from the beginning and his arms encircled my waist. We swayed back and forth as we turned round and round, staring at each other and listening to the lyrics.

I wanna love you and treat you right; I wanna love you every day and every night: We'll be together with a roof right over our heads; We'll share the shelter of my single bed; We'll share the same room, yeah! - for Jah provide the bread.

Is this love - is this love - is this love - Is this love that I'm feelin'? Is this love - is this love - is this love - Is this love that I'm feelin'? I wanna know - wanna know - wanna know now! I got to know - got to know - got to know now! I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I - I'm willing and able, So I throw my cards on your table! I wanna love you - I wanna love and treat - love and treat you right; I wanna love you every day and every night: We'll be together, yeah! - with a roof right over our heads; We'll share the shelter, yeah, oh now! - of my single bed; We'll share the same room, yeah! - for Jah provide the bread. Is this love - is this love - is this love - Is this love that I'm feelin'? Is this love - is this love - is this love - Is this love that I'm feelin'? Wo-o-o-oah! Oh yes, I know; yes, I know - yes, I know now! Yes, I know; yes, I know - yes, I know now! I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I - I'm willing and able, So I throw my cards on your table! See: I wanna love ya, I wanna love and treat ya - love and treat ya right. I wanna love you every day and every night: We'll be together, with a roof right over our heads! We'll share the shelter of my single bed; We'll share the same room, yeah! Jah provide the bread.

At some point he took my hand in his to hold both of them to his heart and I rested my head against the other side of  his chest, remaining there until the first strains of the next song began and he hit pause again. I could feel him burying his face in my hair, breathing me in. Reluctantly, I pulled back so I could see him. He looked…exhausted. Peaceful and serene, but exhausted. My hand rose to cup his cheek.

“You look very, very tired, Thomas.”

He chuckled. “Been a busy couple of days. It feels like…I don’t know how long, but every time I remember that it’s only Tuesday it blows my mind a bit.”

I frowned, recalling everything we’d endured in such a short span of time. “Sorry…”

My apology was cut short with a kiss, long and slow, his tongue tracing my lips then greeting mine with an ardent fervor. He extricated himself in order to speak, his voice gentle, one hand wound in my hair, fingers massaging the area just above my neck. “From now on, whenever you begin to apologize for something that doesn’t require one, I’m going to kiss you.”

My mouth curled in a half smile. “Er, I’m sorry?”

“Well, that turned out exactly as I expected.” He kissed me again, deeper, with a passion that made me shudder. “It’s well past midnight, woman. Time for bed.”

“Do you mean time for bed, or time for…bed?”  

“Whichever you prefer.”

I disrobed in ten seconds flat, flung myself on the mattress and patted the spot next to me. “Come on, Hiddleston. Up all night to get sweaty, right?”

He groaned as he slid his shorts down his long legs and whipped the T-shirt over his head. “That’s going to haunt me forever, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. Forever and then some.”

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

We slept in until noon on Wednesday, walked to Café du Monde for coffee and beignets…both of us realizing that if we lived here we’d be in serious trouble because, hello addiction…then headed back to the hotel to get ready for the viewing. I pointed out buildings and homes I loved along the way, as well as the bus stops so Tom could get a feel for what travelling around the city had been like for me. We stopped to listen to a street performer playing a portion of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61. It was odd without the orchestral accompaniment, but glorious just the same. Tom placed a hundred dollar bill in the young man’s case, carefully tucking it down near the bottom to prevent it from tempting a passerby to help themselves.

“Hard to believe that piece is from two hundred years ago, isn’t it? Everything he did is still so…relevant. I keep hoping that Skrillex is going to incorporate some portion of Beethoven’s work into his own stuff at some point.”

Tom looked at me, head tilted to one side. “Who’s Skrillex?”

“You don’t know who Skrillex is.” I said it as a statement of fact as opposed to a question.

He shook his head. “Not a clue. Should I?”

I shrugged. “Maybe? He’s an EDM artist, and, in my opinion, a fucking genius. Lots of people can’t stand his music, but I love, love, LOVE it. He released his first album on his MySpace page as a totally free download, and then the next two as well, in 2010. He won three Grammys in 2011.” I poked Tom’s arm. “THAT is how you use social media to your advantage. I saw him perform in 2014 at Red Rocks in Colorado. It was awesome, even though I felt like I was the oldest person there. Someone actually asked the kid next to me if I was his mom. Not surprising, I guess, because I’d just left a seminar and didn’t have time to change so I probably looked the part. Anyway. I’ll play you something later. Kinda like the Prodigy, but more metal. Completely original.”

“I look forward to it.” He took my hand as we reached the hotel block, stopping in his tracks. “How are you, Maude?”

“I’m…I’m okay, actually. I just want it done, you know?”

He squeezed. “I know. If Will happens to show up…what would you prefer that I do?”

“Hadn’t thought about it, but…fuck…you shouldn’t have to even be involved in this. I’m really sorry…”

A kiss, short but sweet, interrupted me.

“Right. Not sorry. How’s this? I find it to be terribly unfair that you may have to encounter the epic douchebag that is my ex-husband, and I wish things were different. An apology, but…not.” I blanched. “God, I’m not sure I’ve ever said that before. Ex-husband. I think I may vomit.”

Tom embraced me and kissed the top of my head, then released me.

I bit my lip. “So. To answer your query…I can’t answer it, honestly. What do you want to do?”

The left side of his mouth twisted upward in a sneer. “Split his skull?”

I snorted. “Get in line.”

He laughed. “I’m aware that you’re perfectly capable of handling it on your own, but I still want to be nearby, just in case. Mainly because he’s gotten violent with you in the past. Is that okay?”

I paused, frowning. “Be nearby, yes. But if anything physical happens, please promise me you won’t raise so much as a finger unless there’s some sort of imminent danger. He’s the kind of asshole who’d try to get you to hit him simply because he knows doing so could damage your reputation.”

His brow creased. “Hadn’t thought of that aspect. I promise…it won’t be easy, since I already want to punch him repeatedly, but…I promise.”

I hugged him briefly. “Thank you, Thomas. See, if I punch him and the cops show up all I have to do is tell them he fucked my mother while he was married to me and is now crashing her funeral and they’ll be all like, hit him again, lady. We’ll be out getting some beignets if you need us.”

We began walking again, the hotel lobby only a few steps away. He held the door for me as we entered.

“Is it wrong that I’d love to see you give him a sound ass kicking?”

“Nope. I think it’s adorable. And, I’m overcome by the urge to apologize again but if you keep kissing me…yeah. It would be rather gauche of me to be late, would it not?”

He nodded, and we climbed the two flights in silence. His phone was ringing as we opened the door, and he let out a muffled ‘fuck’ in the hallway when he realized he’d forgotten it. He managed to catch it before it went to voicemail, and he mouthed ‘Legendary’ at me as he answered.

I hopped in the shower, attempting to shift my focus to something more pleasant whenever what awaited me crossed my mind. He stopped talking, and I heard his footsteps coming toward me and into the bathroom.

“They’ve reworked the cast, and we begin shooting in late October. On Oahu.”

I whooped. “MORE HAWAII!” I cleared my throat. “Assuming that I’m coming with you.”

“Well, I’m not going without you, so…”

“Good. But I insist upon staying in a nearby hotel, not in any housing they’re providing for you. When you and the powers that be deem it appropriate for me to take pics and so forth I’ll come to the set. I’m not into going full on Yoko Ono. You need to do your thing, bond with your co-stars and all that jazz.”

He opened the curtain, laughing. “Full on Yoko Ono. I love that. And I love you. As long as you don’t mind me showing up to be near you at all sorts of odd hours and sleeping there whenever possible I’m okay with you being in a hotel.”

I waggled my eyebrows. “Booty calls. I can hardly wait.”

He reached in and put his hand on my shoulder. “Maude, you’re so…different. It’s incredibly freeing, having someone in my life who…I can’t quite explain it. Probably because you’re naked.”

“Makes sense. I forget my own name when you’re naked. How about…understands that your occupation demands long and often unusual hours in faraway places?”

“Yes, but…more than that.”

“Okay…isn’t a total attention whore who can’t deal with not being able to parade you around 24/7? Who has her own interests and a job to keep her occupied while you do yours? Isn’t a massively annoying cling-on who’s so self-centered that she gets pissed when you can’t do what she wants when she wants to do it?”  

His smile took my breath away. “Yes. That. But you left out ‘is intelligent, confident, powerful, caring, amusing and sexy as fuck’. And I’m sure I missed a few, too.” He removed his hand from my shoulder and took his phone out of his pocket. “I’m pleased to inform you that I had an abundance of texts waiting for me, all of them commenting on our Tumblr video.” He began reading them to me. “From Hemsworth, ‘It’s wonderful to see you so happy, mate. Good on both of you.’ Evans said ‘Tom, you lucky bastard…she’s beautiful, and wicked funny. Tell me she has a sister.’ Ben’s comment was ‘That’s how it happens, you know…minding your own business and…BOOM. Can’t wait to meet her.’ And then there’s Downey’s, ‘Tommy. I know that woman. Don’t fuck this up. Oh, and Susan says MARRY HER RIGHT NOW.’” He was blushing, a deep pink color that began at his collar bones and reached all the way up to his cheeks. “There are a bunch more, if you want to read them later. Did anyone mention it to you?”

I laughed. “Thomas, my love…in order for friends to comment on such matters, one must first have friends. So, no. And I haven’t checked the post comments. That’s for another day.”

He waited while I finished, then stepped in to take his turn.

I kissed him on the cheek. “You are so very, very cute when you blush.” He shut the curtain in my face. “You’re doing it again right now, aren’t you?” He remained silent, and I chuckled to myself the entire time I was getting dressed, until he wandered out of the bathroom naked and dripping yet again…at which point all other thoughts escaped me.

He dressed as I put on makeup and wound my hair into a bun, cursing occasionally at my ineptness, then finally saying fuck it and letting it hang loose. After fastening the tourmaline necklace into place, I went back out into the main area. Tom looked stunning, as always, in the grey pants he’d worn at Comic-Con, a black button down shirt, grey knit tie and black patent shoes. He had his light grey jacket in his hand.

“Should I wear this, do you think?”

I shook my head vehemently. “Not unless you want the next funeral to be yours. You’ll fucking sweat to death.”

He peered at me quizzically. “Surely they have air conditioning.”

“Yes. They do. But no one ever turns it up enough. I hope I’m wrong, but…yeah.” I slung my bag across my body after looking at the clock. 3:30. “Ready?”

He nodded, and we made for the car.

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

The receiving room was painted a pale yellow, with a yellow-gold carpet and drapes to match on the wall behind the casket. Brown wooden chairs with avocado green leather seats and backs that clashed horribly with the pink roses had been arranged in neat rows, though I doubted we’d need them. I didn’t anticipate much of a crowd, unless they were coming purely for the schadenfreude, in which case it might be standing room only. Mrs. Henderson came out of a side door to greet us.

“Hello, Maude. Have you seen her yet?” I shook my head, and she motioned for me to follow her to the front of the room. Tom grabbed my hand and came along. The pink dress looked garish, but that would have been the case even if she was still alive. I had to admit that the cosmetologist had done an exceptional job…her color was nearly normal, cheeks fleshed out (with what, exactly, I was sure I didn’t want to know) and blush applied, her hair washed and styled, fanning out on the white pillow behind her. “She looks beautiful, and so peaceful, doesn’t she?”

I wanted to scream, but I nodded instead.

She pointed to a grouping of three chairs to the left of the casket. “You can stand or sit until guests begin arriving, whichever you prefer. If this room gets too full, you’re welcome to have folks wait in the one next door…your mother’s is the only visitation we have remaining for today. I’ll be right behind this door if you need anything, and at 6 PM you’ll have the opportunity to say goodbye privately before we seal the coffin.”

I flopped down gracelessly in the chair furthest away, tossed my bag on the floor and put my head in my hands, elbows on my knees. Tom sat next to me, gently rubbing my back until we heard a familiar voice.

“Maudie! Thomas! There you are.” She was wearing a black dress with a white lace collar, a black and ivory cameo at her neck. She walked toward us, then peeked in the coffin before taking a seat next to Tom. “Wow. They did a nice job.”

Tom and Anne chatted about the screenplay while we waited for people to show up, and listening in was a welcome distraction for me. I checked my phone and discovered it was already 4:30, and not a single soul had come by.

The next hour seemed to drag on endlessly, with only six visitors…our former chef and  housekeeper, two neighborhood ladies that my mother couldn’t stand, Barty, and Reverend Thompson, who indicated that he always turned out for such things when he was officiating the at the funeral. Barty, who’d apparently been Anne’s lawyer for years before she relocated to California for the second time, lingered, pulling a chair over and sitting beside her so they could catch up.

By 5:45 I thought we were in the clear, but moments later the yelling started. It was distant, but I knew immediately who it was. Lord knows I’d heard his voice at that volume often enough throughout the course of our relationship. I couldn’t make out all of what he was saying, but I did hear ‘fucking cunt’ and ‘does she think she is’ quite distinctly. Tom was engaged in conversation with Anne and Barty, and he paid me no mind when I got to my feet. Boots echoed down the hallway, thumping on the hardwood floors, and then there he was, in the doorway and storming through it, headed straight for me.

I laughed out loud when I took in his appearance…I’d forgotten how short he was, barely as tall as me when I was in bare feet and he was wearing shoes,  and I was reasonably sure that I’d tower over him in my three inch heels. He’d put on at least fifty pounds, belly hanging over the top of his jeans, black and white Nirvana T-shirt two sizes too small. His hair still hung long, midway down his back, but his hairline had receded more than halfway on the sides above his temples, leaving nothing but a tufty grey-streaked strip running down the middle of his head. The jeans were filthy, his tan work boots shabby and unlaced, and a plaid flannel was tied around what passed for his waist, partially invisible under his protruding stomach. Other than the weight gain and the hair loss, he looked pretty much the same as when I’d left…meaning, those might just be the same exact fucking clothes he’d worn for days at a time seventeen years ago. Hopefully he’d laundered them at some point.

As he drew closer I realized he really didn’t look the same at all…his complexion was ashen, eyes bloodshot with dark circles under them, skin wrinkled and leathery, lips cracked and chapped. He was speaking, pointing a finger in my face, but I couldn’t hear him, my only focus intent on the amount of dirt underneath his fingernail. I suppressed a gag as the fact that I’d slept with this disgusting piece of shit rose to the surface of my mind. As I pushed the thought away his voice, southern accent as thick as ever, became clear.

“…show your ugly face in this town, sneakin’ behind my back and tryin’ to take what’s MINE. But I FOUND OUT, because I KNOW PEOPLE and I got told YOU were there Monday with your fag actor boyfriend and that there was a fuckin’ realtor car there yesterday…you can’t fuckin’ SELL it, it’s MY house now…”

I squared my shoulders as my arm shot out, hand wrapping around his hairy wrist and squeezing tightly, voice icy and dripping with condescension.

“If you plain on retaining possession of that particular digit I’d strongly advise you to cease waving it in my face.”

An expression of surprise crossed his countenance briefly and was quickly replaced with rage. He tried to twist away from me, but my own rage had tightened my grip well beyond my ordinary level of strength, to the point where tears began to well up in his eyes from the pain. I let go, smirking.

His hands dropped to his sides, balled into fists. “You ain’t gonna do another goddamn THING until we see a LAWYER, Maude. I want what’s MINE.”

I crossed my arms. “I’m sorry…what do you mean, you want what’s yours? NOTHING is yours. She died intestate.”

He stomped his foot. “I don’t care what the fuck it was that killed her…all that matters is she’s dead, and she left me everything. It says so in her will.” He whipped a stained, dog-eared sheaf of papers out of his back pocket, unfolded them and tapped his finger to the front page. “Right fuckin’ HERE.”

I’d heard Barty snicker at his reply to my intestate comment, and I could feel the fiendish grin spreading across my face. Granted, there weren’t as many people present as I would have liked for the show, but I was going on with it anyway.

I rolled my eyes. “Intestate means without a will, you fucking moron. Which, in turn, according to the laws of the great state of Louisiana, means that everything goes to ME, not YOU. And it was the booze that killed her…technically alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver, but I think I’ve already exceeded your fifty-cent word limit for the day, so let’s just leave it at booze.”

He screamed and waved the papers in my face. “I HAVE THE WILL RIGHT HERE, YOU STUPID BITCH!”

Mrs. Henderson popped her head out and asked if everything was all right…I nodded and waved her away, and Anne got up and followed her into the adjoining room.

I shook my head. “Shut up and listen very carefully, William. After you left town with wife number three, Mary filed a statement with her attorney revoking all existing wills and codicils after marking the most recent one VOID. That’s the one you keep waving around there, by the way. She knew you had a copy, and she wanted to make sure you got precisely jack shit.”

He took a step forward, snarling. “YOU’RE A FUCKIN’ LIAR!”

Barty stood up and walked to my side. “Mr. Bonaventura, I’m Bartholomew Stevens, Mary Bonaventura’s attorney.” He pulled a document out of his inner jacket pocket. “Here’s a notarized copy of her revocation statement as well as the will she marked void. You’ll find it’s identical to the one you already have in your possession. Ms. Gallagher is 100% correct. The entire contents of the estate passes directly to her as the only surviving child. Go ahead and take those to your own lawyer and he’ll tell you the same.” As he went back to sit next to Tom he winked at me, and I wanted to kiss him.

I could see Will’s wheels turning, trying to figure out how he could get something out of this. I dove in before he could speak.

“Sorry asshole, no payday for you. Guess it’s time to find another cash cow to milk, especially since your most recent one’s run dry as well.” His eyes widened. “Yeah. I know. Took me a while, I’ll give you that, but all the pieces of the puzzle finally fell into place. You dragged me to Vegas and got me blackout drunk so I’d marry you because you thought I was rolling in dough. When you found out my mother was the one with all the money, you started fucking her and she fell for your bullshit hook, line and sinker. Once hers ran out, you latched on to Anna Beth. Rinse, lather, repeat.”

He took a step forward. “You begged me to marry you. You said you loved me. And you sure fucked me like you did.”

Without pausing to consider the consequences of my actions, I leaned back, made a fist and swung, hitting him square on the mouth. His head flew to the side, blood spraying from where I’d split his lip.

“The only reason I ever fucked you AT ALL was because I was DRUNK, you worthless piece of shit. My heart had just been torn from my chest not once, but TWICE, and I couldn’t face the pain. You were nothing more than a convenient excuse so I could tell myself I was an ARTIST who liked to party, not a raging alcoholic. I NEVER loved you. And you knew it. And that’s why you tricked me into marrying you, abused me, belittled me, accused me of cheating and played all your other mind fuck games. That and the fact that you didn’t want me to notice that you were fucking MY MOTHER before you were certain she was all yours.”

He lunged at me, and I saw Tom stand up out of the corner of my eye as I grabbed Will by the shoulders, kneed him in the balls, then shoved him backward. I motioned for Tom to sit back down as I steadied myself, balancing on one heel even just for a few seconds having thrown me off balance. His eyes narrowed, but he complied.

Will was doubled over, and I bent down, got close and screamed in his face. “It’s bad enough that you’ve done this all your life, grifting and sponging off everyone else because you’re too fucking lazy to get an actual JOB and won’t let your stupid dream of hitting it big because you’re such a great guitar player DIE, but now you have CHILDREN who are COUNTING ON YOU to PROVIDE FOR THEM. Newsflash, fucktard. You’re too fat, too bald and too old for anyone in the industry to even look twice at you, and your guitar playing is mediocre at best. The only reason your band was popular back in the day was because of ME. People came to hear ME sing, not to hear YOU play. And that always burned your ass too, didn’t it? I hope it still does. Every fucking day.”

He stood upright as best he could, arms still clutching his stomach, staring at me like he had no idea who I was.

“This didn’t turn out quite the way you expected, did it? Sorry to disappoint, but the coward of a girl I was when you knew me…the one who let you walk all over her and treat her like she was worthless and stupid…she’s been dead for years, Will. Her father blowing his brains out killed her drunk ass off and a goddess took her place.” I pointed at my chest with my thumb. “This, this is the REAL me. The me that’s going to pay off the mortgage on my crazy fucking mother’s house so I can sell it later for a huge profit. The me that’s going to sell every single fucking thing that’s in it, too. Your toys, your instruments, every piece of equipment in the recording studio, her shit, ALL OF IT. And would you like to know what I’m going to do with the proceeds? Of course you would. I’m donating every single penny to a crisis organization for victims of domestic violence, the Metropolitan Center for Women and Children, right here in New Orleans. Appropriate, don’t you think? It won’t make up for any of what you’ve done to me, or to Anna Beth, but it will surely help a LOT of women move on from their OWN Wills, and it’ll absofuckingloutely put a smile on MY face every time I think of how much my doing it pissed you off.”

The staring continued, his eyes wide with shock.

I waved my hands at him in dismissal. “We’re done here. Time to go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. And do not, under any circumstances, show up here tomorrow for the service OR at the cemetery. Unless you want me to kick your sorry ass some more, that is.”

His brow furrowed, and I couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled a Neanderthal. He turned and walked slowly toward the doorway, then looked back at me, the fire still gone from his eyes but unwilling to let me have the last word.

“This ain’t over. You’ll be hearin’ from my lawyer, you fat fuckin’ cunt.”

I laughed. “Looked in the mirror lately, Will? Fat cunt is a much more appropriate description of YOUR appearance these days, not mine. I’ll be waiting with baited breath for your attorney’s call. In the meantime, get the fuck out of here.” He didn’t move until I took a step in his direction, then finally exited the room and stomped down the hall.

I remained in place for several moments, rewinding and replaying it all in my head. A smile spread across my face, so huge and wide that it was almost painful. I turned around to see everyone standing, eyes on me. Barty, Anne, who I had no idea had come back into the room, and…Tom. He’s the one who began applauding first, and the others joined in immediately.

I held up my hands in a stop gesture. “You should NOT be rewarding this kind of behavior, folks. Where’s Mrs. Henderson, I need to tell her how so very, very sorry I am…”

Tom strode over, embraced me, picked me up and spun me around, mouth on mine as he set me back down, sucking on my lower lip until I moaned. Barty cleared his throat and Tom released me.

He glanced in Barty’s direction and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that. Couldn’t help myself.” He turned back to me, whispering. “Maude…you are, indeed, a goddess. MY goddess.”

I whispered in return. “Are you going to worship me later?”

His reply was a barely audible hiss in my ear that made me shiver. “Yessss.”

Barty appeared behind Tom, clapping him on the back. “So, who’s up for some dinner at the Palm Court Jazz Café? One of my favorite haunts. The food is damn tasty…” He patted his belly. “And I enjoy it as often as I can, as you can clearly see. My treat, of course.”

Anne answered first. “Count me in. I’m in just the right mood for some jazz. And Mrs. Henderson went to make sure Will actually left the building. She said not to worry, that this kind of thing happens more often than you’d imagine, and to just leave when we we’re done and she’d take care of the rest.”

Tom met my gaze, raising an eyebrow. I nodded and spoke for both of us. “We’re in too. But it’s MY treat, Barty. You being here with those papers…epic. So, so epic.”

He laughed. “A little bird was kind enough to inform me that Mr. Bonaventura had arrived in our fine town, and I had planned on coming anyhow. Always be over-prepared…every attorney’s mantra. I’ll let you buy, darlin’. Next time’s on me, though.”

I smiled. “Fine. Why don’t you and Anne go on ahead and get us a good table?” I looked over to the casket, then back at Barty. “There’s something else I need to do here.”

He nodded, took Anne by the arm and walked her out.

Tom put his hands on the sides of my face. “Would you like some privacy?”

“I’d like you to stay, if you don’t mind.”

He nodded, then removed his hands and slid one arm around my waist as we walked up to the coffin. He let me go when I stopped to pick up my bag on the way. After staring at her face for a few moments, I took a deep breath and began to speak, knowing that my adrenaline high could slip away at any moment, leaving me a quivering, shaky mess.

“Mary. I’d call you Mom, but…you weren’t really that, were you? So Mary it is. Better than what I’d really like to call you, that’s for sure.” I reached in my bag and pulled out the brown leather box with the maroon tapestry inset that held my father’s revolver. I heard Tom inhale sharply, but he didn’t speak. “I know you left this for ME, but…I want you to have it. And you will, now, forever. Theoretically. What Dad did…in the end it was his choice, but you’re the one who betrayed his love. And what a love it was. Yet you threw it away like it was nothing, and because of that, he was already dead before he pulled the trigger. But his heart kept beating in spite of how he felt, so he had to finish the job. Anyway. None of it was my fault, and his tomb is sealed, so, here you are. A little parting gift to enjoy while you rest eternally at his side.”

I put the box down inside the coffin, below her hands and out of sight.

“All of my life, I could never understand why you didn’t love me. And I always thought it was because of something I did, or who I was. Now I know it wasn’t me at all…that’s just what you wanted me to think. The real reason you never loved me…and, scratch that…the reason you hated me was because you regretted the choices you made in your own life, and because you were jealous of me. That, at least, makes sense. Of course you were jealous. I’m everything you were never capable of being, or becoming. The best you could ever do was dress yourself up and try to look pretty enough so that no one would notice that you were nothing more than a monster in an expensive dress. I wasted so much time…my god, the TIME…feeling like I’d missed out on so much because I never really had a mother, when, in truth, the only person who missed out on anything was YOU. You had an amazing, beautiful, intelligent, funny daughter who loved you despite everything you did to her. You never got to know me, you never cared to know me, and now you never will. My love for you turned to hate long ago, but now…even that’s gone. I feel…nothing. You’re nothing. But I’m something. Because I’m still here. You did your best to destroy me, but you couldn’t. Not completely. I’m too strong for that. Stronger than you. And I’m happy. Happy with my life, and happy that you’re finally out of mine. For good. There’s no coming back from where you’ve gone. Every night the last thing on your mind before you fell asleep may have been how you wished I’d never been born, but the last thing on MY mind every night before I fall asleep is… love. So, fuck you, Mary. I win. You lose. Game over.”

I turned around and began to walk toward the doorway, but Tom stopped me.

“When did…how…”

“You used the bathroom after the real estate agent left and I snagged it. Still wasn’t sure what I was going to do with it, but…”

His arms wrapped around me, and he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “You’ve left me speechless again, Maude. God, how I love you.” He pulled back, smiling softly at me. “Ready to go?”

I nodded. “Fuck yeah. I’m starving.” I paused. “And Tom…thank you, once more, for being here. And not judging me. I love you too.”

“You’re very welcome. Though I have to admit, I did, in fact, judge you.”

I shot him a look. “I’m sorry, what?”

He laughed. “I judged you. And my verdict is that you throw one mean fucking punch, woman. In heels, even.”

I slapped his upper arm. Lightly. “You know, I had no idea I could do that. It felt really, really good. TOO good. Maybe I should take up boxing.”

We walked through the doorway together, and he leaned into me. “Not a bad idea. Then you could serve as my bodyguard as well.”

I rolled my eyes. “You know, Thomas, you can’t expect me to do EVERYTHING.”

He held the building door open for me, whispering seductively as I passed by him, his hand cupping one cheek of my ass. “As long as you do me, nothing else matters.”

“Shut up, Thomas. Please. Shut. Up.”

He laughed all the way to the car, finally quieting down when I distracted him by hiking my skirt more than halfway up my thighs as I sat down in the driver’s seat. Then it was my turn to laugh…until his hand found its way between them in the parking lot. And mine found its way into his pants. We were slightly more than fashionably late when we finally made it into the restaurant, but Anne and Barty were too busy dancing to notice.

[bambamwolf87]

"New Neighbors" Ch. 2

Summary: Loki is living in the Avengers Tower. You have recently moved into it, as a hired employee by Pepper Potts. First person you met was Loki, the day you moved in.

Chapter 2:

After Loki put on the newly gifted scarf, he patted the other space on the small couch. You sit down, trying to fit without making physical contact with his leg. Leaning towards the arm on your side. Earning an odd look from Loki.

Trying to keep the excitement, loki smiles again, “So, how does it look?”

“It looks better than I'd have hoped.”

Smiling back at him.

Just then, Thor bursts through the door, with a tray of food, two plates with lids, presumably to keep the food warm. This reminds you that you need to find a way to work on teaching the two Asgardians how to do more for themselves. Loki looks up, slightly annoyed with his brother's entrance.

“What happened to knocking? I don't go barging into your rooms.”

Thor chuckles, “Well, that's because I usually have company. Not my fault you're still being a clam. You complained of being imprisoned, but now with freedom... you keep yourself from the world.”

Loki shrugs at Thor’s words. This exchange has made you begin to think of a few things. How long had they been here? Why was Loki anti-social? Do anti-social people just randomly help strangers? Then you also realize that both men have separate apartments. This means, you're possibly the second person ever in here…

Feeling even more awkward than when you sat down, you get up to leave them to their meal. As you are fully standing, something brushes you arm. Turning towards Loki, who has already withdrawn his hand back.

“I probably should go down to dinner.” Nodding towards Thor, “Nice to meet you, I'll leave you two.” Thor was already walking and replacing you on the couch. He waved after setting the tray down.

You walk out and wave at Loki as you slip past the doorway, softly closing it behind you. Doing as you mentioned, you head to the cafeteria on the 2nd floor. Thinking about why you had such a nervous reaction to Loki. You have to type up some spreadsheets and order forms after dinner.

While fixing up a plate from the salad line, someone bumps into you, from the left. Annoyed by almost losing your plate, you scold, “Excuse you.” Without looking at whom it was. A deep voice responded, “They're just kids, don't be too hard on them”

Looking towards the voice, it is Tony Stark, on the other side of the buffet table. Then you look over your shoulder, following Tony's eyes, it's Parker and his friends from school. Half smiling, some of your irritation gone.

Tony continues to speak, “So are you the new hire? The one working on orders and keeping this place stocked? I don't know why she gave you such a boring job.” Stark rolls his eyes.

“Why do you say that, Mr. Stark?”

“Because, Friday can auto order just about anything. Technically, she is who accepts, records, and sends your orders to be filed.”

Marveled by this bit of info, you're wondering why you're needed here. Breaking the silence again, Stark asks, “How do you like your suite? Need anything? Just order it when you do your paperwork. Or, if you feel lazy, you can push the star key on the landline phone your room came with, then read or tell your orders directly to Friday. Cool, right?” He smiles like a big kid. You return the smile.

After eating a salad, a few fish fillets, and some fries, you drag yourself to check the supplies while you're in the area. It was the end of your first week. Already it was getting easier. Making a mental list, you leave for your rooms.

As you walk past the few doors in your hallway, you unconsciously listen out for the voices of the two Asgardians. But nothing for now. After making the orders to Friday on the phone line, you start to make an outline of what the princes may need to learn. And how best to tutor them.

A knock comes from your door. Looking at the clock, it's almost midnight! No wonder your eyes hurt. Sitting at the computer for over 4 hours… Stretching as you stand, walking to the door. Opening it, you see Loki looking down at his feet, but holding a tray similar to the one seen earlier in the evening.

Stepping out of the doorway,

“Come in, Neighbor. Why are you up at an hour like this?”

Loki looks confused, then seeing the clock, blushes. The pink filling his cheeks made him seem more human than alien. Taking the tray from him, setting it on the island in the small kitchen. Whatever it was, smelled good, something sweet or sugary.

Finally he spoke, “I'm sorry, I hadn't realized what time it was. With staff 24 hours in the cafe… I shouldn't have bothered you.”

You smile to reassure him nothing's wrong.

“It's quite alright. You didn't wake me, or I'd been in my PJs. Its the weekend, I'm off duty until Monday morning. What keeps you occupied while here, when not out on a mission? And what did you bring me? Can I open the container?” Your hand on the lid.

Loki answers, “I brought up dessert for us. I don't know what you like, so forgive me if its not to your taste.”

He still has a hint of pink to his cheeks. As you open the lid, its chocolate eclairs, with filling. You are delighted, pastries and chocolate anything was your thing. Moving to your couch and coffee table with them, sitting opposite end of Loki. Your couch being full length, but still the close range gave you butterflies.

“I read mostly.” He said into the thick silence. “Your Midgard has many interesting things to read about. I see you have plenty of books of your own. There's a library on the 3rd floor, and some across the city, if I'm not mistaken.”

Picking up an eclair, to take a bite, the filling was banana cream. You hummed your appreciation, closing your eyes. He watched you intently, like a new creature. Grabbing up one for himself, he was more refined than you.

During your second one, it exploded a bit. Leaving some of the filling on your cheek. Giggling, until you feel a cool hand cup your face, the thumb swiping your cheek clean. You meet his eyes, knowing yours are wide, surprised by the contact. Then watching as he pulls his hand back, licking his thumb clean.

Your throat seems dry all of the sudden. Trying to break the silence you begin to ramble. “So you like sweets?”

He smiles, it's not as innocent looking as the one from earlier. Almost predatory.  Giving you a cold chill down your spine.

“Yes, yes I do. What's the term? A sweet tooth, is what I have.”

Gulping a drink of water, not sure what changed in Loki from the nervous guest, to the predator looking man on your couch.

“Part if my assignment is to teach you and your brother how to do more for yourselves. Like cooking, shopping, internet, and so on. That's why I was put on the same floor as you and Thor.”

Mentioning his older brother seemed to trigger Loki to shift moods a little. Less pounce looking. “Oh, they have the little Librarian to tutor us?”

The way he dragged out the title of librarian did something to your mind. Mentally shaking it off. Two can play his game. You already had a nickname for him.

“So Neighbor, what time of day would you be willing to start lessons with me? Any ideas about Thor's schedule?”

Loki wrinkled up his nose, showing disdain to being asked about lessons. He was not a school boy… But he had to admit that he sometimes felt like one in your presence.

“I am not my brother's keeper. His rooms are the first door from the elevator on my side of the hall.”

“Well maybe you could answer me about what times during the days you would like to learn from me about the topics I mentioned earlier? I'm off on the weekends, so I'm available Monday through Friday every week. I can work in my order forms between your schedule.”

He smirks at you, thinking you have some nerve, talking almost authoritatively to him, a prince, a sorcerer, a Frost Giant.  He pondered on what you knew of him.

“My schedule is usually booked.”

Remembering the exchange between him and Thor before dinner, you know he doesn't do much, calling him out on it, “You just said you read while staying cooped up in you quarters. What else is on your schedule, your majesty?!”

The annoyance apparent in your tone, especially on the last two words.

He begins to count off on his fingers, “Edgar Allan Poe Collection, Brothers Grimm, Shakespeare's Complete Collection, Equestrians of the World, and lastly History of Ancient Civilizations.”

You tilt your head as he lists off books…

“That should keep me busy all of the upcoming and following week.”

You realize, he meant booked by the books on his reading list… facepalming. Unsure if you want to laugh or smack him for being such a smartass.

Changing the subject, “Why did you come by tonight?” The mixed signals from him and your own reactions to him have you very confused.

“To bring the eclairs, sort of thank as a you for the scarf. I may have to leave the tower from time to time, so I have a reason to wear an item of such finery.”

His words making you blush. Thinking of a plan to tutor at least one of the asgardians, you suggested something.

“Why don't we go to one of the libraries in the city? We can go Monday. Would you be willing to work that into your ‘booked’ calendar?” You used your hands to make quotations around him being booked.

This earns a warm smile and a chuckle from Loki. He taps his index finger on his bottom lip. Drawing your eyes to examine his lips and hands. You mentally scold yourself.

“I probably can arrange to escort you to one of those places, but not before noon.”

Reaching out your hand, he grasps it firmly and you shake hands. You yawn, the day finally taking it toll on you. Loki noticed the exhaustion written on your face. He excuses himself and leaves for his room.

Over the weekend, you take the chance to pamper yourself. On the 2nd floor, was also a spa… so that's how you spent your Saturday. Sunday you decide to go shopping. Wanted some new clothes… maybe if you weren't dressed in business clothes, Loki wouldn't connect you as the librarian type. Laughing at yourself, since when have you gave a damn what any man thought of you? That was a first in a long time. Men and their opinions aren't normally something you cared about.

Monday morning came soon enough. Going down to the cafe, scooping eggs, bacon, biscuits and gravy onto a plate. Looking around to see who else you might meet. A teenager that looks familiar slides into the chair across from you.

“Hi, I'm Peter Parker. I wanted to apologize for the clash the other day. Ned and I got too excited over some new technology stuff.”

This kid is adorable. If you could have a younger brother, you wished he would be similar to Parker.

“It's alright, no harm done. I'm just an employee here. Isn't like I save the city or world.” you laugh.

“But you do, well sort of. I mean, you restock what we need and use, right? Personally, just my opinion, you're like the third most important person here.”

Parker's words make you blush a bit. Shaking your head from side to side.

“I'm not sure how you prioritized that list of yours, but thank you.”

Looking beyond Parker, you spot a tall figure with jet black hair. As it nears, you realize it is Loki. He noticed your surprise and raised an eyebrow at you.

“Have a good day ma'am, I gotta run, don't wanna be late for school!”

Loki takes the recently vacated seat. You were about to rise up, to turn in your dirty dishes. Loki moves his hand, the dishes vanish into the bussing bin.

“You're welcome, (y/n). Seems you get up early. About the other night, I… I reflect that I may have slighted you.” He wasn't sure what about being near you that triggered him to be nervous. Sometimes wanting to cover it up with his snarky sarcasm.

Unsure if that was an apology, you skip over it. “Will you be ready to leave by noon?”

“Probably sooner, if you wish. Have you mapped out where you want us to go?”

Just as you were about to answer, Thor pulls up a chair from another table, straddling it, sitting backwards in it, arms crossed the back of the chair.

“There you are little brother! I was worried when I didn't see you in your rooms. I didn't expect to find you here, of all places.”

Loki rolls his eyes in Thor's direction, “I still need sustenance, this is where it is. You would know that, you idiot.”

Thor kept smiling, looking between you and Loki. “So where are we going today?”

This addition wasn't in your plans, but you were supposed to be tutoring both of them.

“I didn't know your schedule, so I hadn't anticipated in you accompanying Loki and myself today. Are you sure it won't take you away from anything important?”

“If I'm needed, they will call me. I've gotten much better at their mobile technology.”

He pulled out a smartphone, showing it off. Then replacing it in some pocket in his jeans.

“Loki, you should get one. Banner says they can hold games, and i know how much you like to play games.”

As annoying as Thor might seem to Loki, you saw his genuine affection for the younger sibling. It led you to an idea.

“Ya know, Thor might have a point. Today, I'll order you your own cell phone. Something I can help teach you on. And Thor, if you need help on yours, don't hesitate to ask.”

Thor was a little confused. “Why would you be teaching me anything? You're the newcomer. I still don't know your name.”

Loki slams his fist on the table, making you jump. “Her name is (y/n). She is to be our tutor about Midgard. If you wish to stay behind, you're more than welcome to do so.”

Thor was taken aback by Loki's defensive nature of you. Squinting his sky blue eyes at Loki, as if having an internal debate.

“I think I will go training with Valkyrie. I'm too old to be taught by one so small.”

He leaves the cafeteria. Loki smiles as he magically disposes of his dishes. Looking quite pleased with himself.

“I guess it's back to just us, little Librarian.” You roll your eyes at his nickname.

“Why do you continue to call me that? I'm in casual wear, you're the one in a suit. I feel like I should be in formal wear. You look more like a teacher or professor than I do.”

Your mind wanders a bit, wondering what he could teach you… ignoring that part of your mind. You head towards your quarters. Loki walking beside you.

Upon returning to your own door, Loki is still with you, in the hall.

“I could leave whenever you want to go.”

Looking down at yourself, debating if you want to change from your jeans and v-neck blouse. Looking at Loki's suit made you decide to look more classy.

“You may come in, in about ten to fifteen minutes, I'll be ready to leave as well.”

You have decided on a skirt with a bit of color, it was light yellow with a black lace pattern edging the hemline that went below your knees. With a matching yellow tank top that had the lace at the neckline and the upper half of the back. Deciding that you didn't need makeup, just putting your hair in a headband, to keep a relaxed look.

(Mobile won't let me put it all, so breaking it here, sorries!)

[whimsicalworldofme]

Some Type of Love

Life has taken on a measure of happy calm on the new Resistance base. Ava has been busy teaching Luke and Rey, training new cooks in the mess hall kitchen, and enjoying life more than she thought she ever might. 

Word Count: 2579 (Really I’m awful at keeping things short)

Content Warnings: None. This is just a lot of cute, light-hearted, fluffy goodness. 

(If anyone is interested, when Poe starts humming, this is what I imagine he hums. This song also fits the overall mood of Poe and Ava.)

“Luke, focus,” Ava chided gently when she caught her son once again watching Rey so intently that he wasn’t paying attention to his own exercises. She was trying to teach them how to direct the Force with as little movement on their part as possible. They’d been trying without result for an hour and a half.

               “I’m focusing,” Luke insisted returning his gaze to the little metal ball sitting on the table in front of him. Rey was across the table from him also focused on the ball. They were supposed to be rolling it back and forth between each other without reaching or gesturing.

               Not on the right thing.

               Ava bit her tongue on that one. She saw how her son looked at Rey, she watched how he trailed after her around the base like the flock of Porgs that had imprinted on Chewbacca. He had begun combat training with her since Rey was in better practice than Ava. Luke consistently went above and beyond to show he had picked up the concepts she demonstrated. To her credit, Rey had accepted her second shadow without complaint. Luke spent more time out and about these days and while it was tough for Ava to let him go, watch him become a young man, she was glad to see him surrounded by people he loved and who loved him. From flying lessons and mechanics with Poe’s squadron, the Jedi training with Rey, shooting practice with Finn, and just general hanging out with his friends Jacen and Jaina, Luke had no shortage of companionship. Her greatest relief came from seeing him fully engaged and aware of how much he was loved. Having watched Ben become more reclusive and withdrawn in his early teen years gave Ava all the signs she needed to know if something was tormenting her son. But he was happy, well-adjusted, and sociable. Sometimes he whined when she asked him to stay in and work on training with her, or when she told him he needed to clean his room, but that was normal teenager angst and annoyance.

               “I don’t think it’s even possible to do this without moving your hands,” Rey’s forehead scrunched up and she folded her arms on the table, resting her chin on top of the backs of her hands.

               “Maybe that’s the lesson,” Luke said, glancing up at his mom again with suspicion. “Something about knowing our limitations. Either that or Mom just wants us to be quiet.”

               Ava raised a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. Luke turned a shade of light pink. Without saying a thing, she redirected her thoughts to the metal ball on the table between her two students. It took a moment, but the little shimmering orb lifted with ease off the wooden surface and floated, bobbing ever so slightly, over to where Ava stood at the end of the table. She held out her hand and it dropped effortlessly into her palm.

               “Whoa,” Luke gaped. Ava felt a twinge of pride that she could still do things that her son found impressive.

               “But it’s so much easier to use your hand,” Rey lifted her hand and carried the ball away from Ava utilizing the Force with as much ease as if she’d just walked over and picked it up. “It’s quicker and takes less concentration. Wouldn’t that be best in most situations?”

               “Maybe,” Ava nodded. “But if you’re in a fight against someone else with a lightsaber or any kind of blade and you throw your hand up like that,” she put her own right arm out and then with her hand flat, palm facing her chest, hit it at the wrist to imitate a blade coming down on it. “You can find yourself very quickly with a bionic hand.”

               Both Rey and Luke winced, drawing back a smidge at the notion. They sat up a little straighter, now understanding the importance of that particular lesson.

               “Is that something Uncle Luke taught everyone because of what happened to him?” Luke asked.

               “I asked him about it because I didn’t want to lose a hand,” Ava grinned. “Gesturing and reaching help to focus your intent with the Force but it’s not necessary. If you practice enough you won’t need the physical action in all situations.”

               “Mom,” Luke got up from the table and stood beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder, a gleam in his eye, “you’re a bit of a badass, you know that?”

               “Yes,” Ava laughed. “But it’s nice to hear you think so.”

               He leaned over and kissed her cheek. He’d gotten even taller somehow in the last few months on the new base, now an inch taller than her. Admittedly she wasn’t a very tall person to begin with, but she felt smaller now that her thirteen-year-old could look her in the eye.

               “We’ll do better next time, right Rey?”

               “I’ll practice in my room,” she promised with a nod as she got up from her seat. She had meetings to get to and Luke was due for some flying lessons. Things were quiet since the First Order was still scrambling after the death of Supreme Leader Snoke. They’d suffered a lot of infighting which gave the Resistance the reprieve they needed to grow their numbers and get into a better position to bring about a final victory.  The interim peace provided enough time and money for Ava to get the kitchen up and going the way she liked. They even had a little garden started on base for fresh vegetables. Ava had been training up a few new cooks since only Tryn had made it to Crait. But he had bailed, fleeing for the outer rim when they were regrouping at the spaceport between Crait and their new base. She didn’t blame him. She missed him, but she was adjusting. Spending more time training the two younger Jedi helped.

               “Same time day after tomorrow,” Ava reminded Rey as she and Luke slipped out the door.

               “Love you, Mom,” Luke waved before the door shut. With a heavy sigh, Ava pushed both the now empty chairs back up to the table and took up the little metal ball. She tossed it in one hand as she wandered to put it over on top of an end table out of the way. She had a little time before she had to be in the kitchens. Since she’d gotten her new cooks trained enough to handle most of the prep, she didn’t have to be there all the time. But she had nothing better to do so she headed out anyway. Poe had left their quarters before the sun rose and she didn’t expect to see him again until well after sundown. He loved his new role training new pilots. His natural instincts and predilection for fathering kicked into overdrive when he got around them. Leia had promoted him back up to Major in the time they’d been there and involved him in more strategy meetings too. He was thriving, and Ava was glad for him even if she did miss his presence around their quarters.  

               The midmorning sun warmed her as she walked across base. People waved and said hello as they passed. She always made a point to talk to people when they came to mess for meal time and now that there were fewer people from the older generation, the ones who remembered how she’d come back to the Resistance pregnant with the ultimate traitor’s child, she had less difficulty socializing. People knew her as Poe’s girlfriend, Luke’s mother, the best cook on base, and the person who would listen to anyone who needed a sympathetic ear. She wasn’t just the first victim of Kylo Ren’s dark rage anymore. It made her smile, thinking about how things had progressed and how they might actually have a chance at lasting peace and happiness.

               “Morning Ava!” Her six new cooks greeted her in unison when she got into the kitchen. She positively beamed, remembering how fortunate she was to have them.

               “Ava,” Kryn, a pastel pink humanoid alien came up to her with a data pad in hand. “I was going through the pantry like you asked and here’s the list of what we need to restock.”

               “That was quick,” Ava had expected it to take much longer than just the morning, but she trusted them. They caught onto things quickly though, which is why she’d entrusted them with the task of weekly inventory. “It took you longer last week.”

               “I’ve since gotten used to how you have things organized,” Kryn replied. “Though I would appreciate you double checking everything to ensure I haven’t made an error.”

               “Of course,” Ava smiled and took the datapad as they held it out for her. “How is prep going for lunch?”

               “We’re on schedule.”

               She watched her little team spread out around the kitchen, stood at counters and sinks, peeling, chopping, making doughs and sauces, grinding herbs and spices, washing dishes. They had come together beautifully in the last few weeks. She could really focus on experimenting with the food and enjoying the creativity of cookery thanks to their help.

               “I’ll check this right away then,” she nodded and began scrolling through the very lengthy lists of items on the datapad that she had to verify. The pantry was spacious and when they had first arrived, Ava wondered if they’d ever have the resources to fill all the shelves. Now she had issues finding space for everything. She counted through jars of spices and herbs, tallied up kilo after kilo of sacks of grains and flours, verified numbers of root vegetables, and shuffled through all sorts of exotic things like jars of a sweet syrup from one planet made from the saliva of a wild pig-like creature. She steered clear of it but there was one group of refugees from that world who wouldn’t take their native thistle tea without a generous glug of the stuff.  

               Her staff was in and out, grabbing ingredients and tools, so she didn’t pay any attention when the door creaked open and shut yet again. An arm slipped around her from behind, a sturdy frame pulling her close, lips pressing soft and warm to her neck. Ava giggled and tipped her head to the side, exposing more of her neck for Poe to lavish kisses on.

               “Hello there,” he murmured in her ear, nuzzling against her.

               “Hello,” she sighed in blissful contentment, leaning into him. “I didn’t think I’d see you until tonight.”

               “I snuck away,” he put his hands on her hips and turned her around before grabbing her right hand in his left and beginning to dance with her. She laughed, letting him lead. He loved to dance and never needed an excuse to do so, but she wondered what in particular had caused this impromptu visit. He was humming now, holding her close, his hand almost indecent on her hip. He pushed her away into a little spin before pulling her back and kissing her when they came together again.

               “You are in a very good mood,” Ava laughed. She moved her free hand from his shoulder and played with the curls at the nape of his neck.

               “There’s no reason not to be in a good mood,” he replied, spinning them both in a circle with expert footwork. “Everything is going right,” he beamed, little joy lines radiating from the corners of his eyes. “My cadets haven’t broken or crashed anything this week, Leia trusts me again, and I get to spend every night with the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.” He spun her again and she felt a flush in her cheeks when she came back into his arms and saw how fondly he looked at her. He licked his bottom lip as he took a moment to really study her face as though wanting to keep a mental picture of exactly how she looked in that moment. He stopped dancing, both his hands taking both of hers, before he went down on one knee in front of her. Ava felt her heart leap into her throat when she realized what he was doing and Poe grinned, choking back happy emotions that threatened to spill over and keep him from his purpose.

               “I promised I would ask properly,” he looked up at her. “I think it’s time.” He ran his thumbs gently along the backs of her hands as he held them. He had a little bit of a tremble to his hold, but Ava figured it was more excitement than nerves. “Ava Maebry, who I have loved since I was eight, who I have watched grow into a remarkable mother, and the most amazing, resilient, kind, and radiantly beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, will you marry me?”

               “I don’t know,” Ava mused, making Poe falter, which she realized was a little cruel of her, but he picked up on her sarcasm quickly with a wry grin. Ava snickered. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

               “Yeah?” He lit up, his eyebrows going up and a smile bringing out the little creases in his cheeks.

               “Yeah,” she nodded. Poe was on his feet again in a flash, his hands in her hair, her arms around his shoulders, eyes shut, breathing heavy, kissing deeply, passionately, blissfully unaware of anyone else’s existence.

               “Oh, for kriff’s sake,” Leia’s grumbling voice interrupted them, and Poe let out a gasp of pain as he was pulled away from Ava by the ear, separating them a little. “You two are in your thirties. Aren’t you a little old to be making out in supply closets still?”

               Ava covered her mouth with one hand, giggling uncontrollably as she remembered a prior instance when she was eighteen and Leia had walked in on them snogging in a supply closet in the hanger after Poe had nearly been lost on a mission. That seemed like ages ago, but it did bring up very warm, heady memories.

               “Ow, ear, ear,” Poe winced, his head tilted towards the ground as Leia refused to let go of her hold on him. She pulled him so that his face was eye level.

               “If you get too distracted I’ll bump you back down to captain, Major,” she warned.

               “I needed to see Ava,” he argued.

               “You needed to be in a meeting five minutes ago,” Leia finally let go of his ear, though Ava thought she might grab him again and drag him out. “We might be enjoying some peace right now but there’s still work to do.”

               “Sorry, General,” Poe clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at his feet. “It won’t happen again.”

               “See to it that it doesn’t,” Leia nodded curtly. “And yes,” she held a hand up seeing Poe about to speak again and stopping him in the act. “I will officiate your wedding.”

               Ava and Poe looked at one another, blushing furiously. Whether she sensed their news or had simply overheard them from the other side of the pantry door, they couldn’t be certain. Leia flashed her notoriously impish grin, turned, and strode out of the pantry.

               “Get a move on, Major,” she called for Poe without looking back.

               “Right,” Poe gave Ava one final, quick kiss. “See you tonight.”

               He hurried after Leia, straightening his jacket, leaving Ava completely incapable of focusing on inventory for the rest of the afternoon.

Last Chapter          Master List          Next Chapter

[midnightsdarkangel]

Mark of the Beast CH2

And chapter 2 is here! Chapter 3 is currently being written atm so hopefully it shouldnt take too long. but till then enjoy some more feels~

Summary: Fukami hasn’t been doing too well, she wished they had longer but she knew their fate the moment they met. Its not easy having a kraken as your familiar. 

"Is he alright...?"

Wadanohara walked downstairs only to stumble upon Dolphi and Memoca at the front of the stairs looking up at her, worried. It was sweet to know how much they cared for each other; when Fukami had collapsed on the boat, Dolphi ran out despite her fear for the weather. The two looked up to Fukami, and sometimes Wadanohara did too. He always protected them when things got hard. Despite how little he spoke, he was kind to them. It made Wadanohara feel happy to know, despite how isolated Fukami felt at times, he really was loved. But her mind returned to the more pressing matters at hand.

She sighed and walked down to meet them, trying her best to sound reassuring. "He's fine now; just a bit exhausted, so it's best to let him rest."

The two familiars looked to each other and just nodded and grinned. "Good, I thought I needed to go upstairs there and cheer him up myself," Memoca proclaimed, holding her hands to her hips proudly. Dolphi giggled, amused by her actions as the two began to talk to each other about how they would try and make him happy when he wakes up.

As they chatted, Wadanohara snuck out and away. When she got outside, she carefully shut the door and set her sights on the castle. Not really wanting to be held up by anyone encountering her, she focused her magic to summon her anchor. Pulling it down to be level with her, she carefully climbed on and pushed her feet off the ground to get some distance before setting off at high speeds. Her hair blew hard against the air; she had to keep a hand on her hat at all times so it wouldn't fall off. The world below her looked wonderful. It was so nice to see the town from up top. Though it was more of a blur, she did appreciate the times she was able to just fly above.

Once she reached the castle, the anchor burst into small bubbles. She pushed hard on the large doors, hearing them creak loudly as she cracked them open.

"Wadanohara?"

She jumped, shocked, and almost lost her balance, tumbling backwards to be caught in the arms of a surprised Tatsyumia.

"A-Ah!" In a flush of embarrassment, Wadanohara leapt to her feet and looked down shy.

Tatsyumia couldn't help but smile in amusement. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. What are you doing here then?" she queried, looking at Wada's startled expression.

It was actually perfect timing that she would find her mentor here alone, instead of trying to ask for her privately in front of the others. Tugging Tatsyumia's arm, she wore a worried frown. "I need your help... It's Fukami."

Tatsyumia's curious face turned grim as she took Wadanohara by the hand and led her across the bridge to a more secluded area near the old sea. Once they were alone, she sighed and turned to Wadanohara, sounding gentle but still had a stern tone to her voice. "Is it happening?"

"I... I'm not sure... When we were coming back, he just collapsed! It was scary... He couldn't breathe, and he was trembling. I had to use my magic to knock him out before he harmed himself." Wadanohara explained looking away, regretting not realising something was wrong sooner. It was terrifying, watching her own friend cry in pain right in front of her and not even knowing what she could do. "When I checked his mark, it was pretty warm. He told me it would burn at times."

Tatsyumia sighed and took a few steps away to look out to the horizon. It was a tense atmosphere. Wadanohara had never thought she would ever have to talk about Fukami's condition so soon. She had assumed it would take much longer before he would even show signs, or that he had overcome it during the time they had spent together. But it seems it was all in vain...

"Don't worry, Wadanohara..." Her mentor's hands touched her face, gentle and slow. "It's good you've come to me now rather than later. Can you bring him here when you get the chance? I think the princess should know."

Nodding, they both just stood in silence and shook their heads to try and get out of this grim atmosphere. Even though Wadanohara was nervous, she was glad she had someone to go to. Wadanohara herself had no clue what on Earth she would do if she had to figure it out herself. She had never personally experienced anything quite like this... It was something her father and Tatsyumia knew better.

"Thank you." She smiled, feeling Tatsyumia ruffle her hair as she summoned her anchor.

All she could do now was just wait and see.

--

"Guys, I'm back, I was just taking a walk-"

When Wadanohara returned home, she was met with a rather funny sight. Fukami, seemingly already a lot better when she had seen him before, was sitting on the couch with both Memoca and Dolphi beside him. The two was busy fussing over him with plasters and drawings to make him feel better. His arms were completely covered in bandages, which from observation were poorly tied. Fukami noticed Wadnohara come in and despite his blank look, she could tell he was a bit uncomfortable.

Wadanohara couldn’t help but laugh, alerting the other two. "What are you two doing?"

Memoca quickly sat up and waved at Wada as she approached them to sit on the other side. "We decided to take care of Fukami while you were gone since he was hurt!"

Wadanohara was tempted to tell them it wasn't really physical pain that was burdening him, but just seeing how much they cared was sweet. She giggled, "Ok, you two, I'll take over now."

They nodded and hugged Fukami before running into the other room. Once they had left, Fukami let out a long sigh and slouched on the couch. He looked exhausted from all the attention. She went over and gently started to unravel the bandages from his arms. Fukami looked away as she got close, his heart racing as he felt her warmth.

Wadanohara, however, wasn't aware of Fukami's embarrassment as she gently took off the plasters and stepped back with a smile. "Sorry I was gone for so long, I went to see Tatysumia."

Fukami flinched. "I don't need her help..."

It was a sore spot for Fukami, regarding the members of the castle. Wadanohara wasn't sure what had exactly went down before she had met him, but it was clear it was something he refused to talk about. She wasn't around when the red sea was sealed away, but sometimes she wishes she was, just to see what had happened. It was obvious Fukami was there before Wadanohara was even born. It was odd to see him get defensive over the past when normally he was indifferent to a lot of things. He might not show it as obvious as Memoca would; he was more subtle with his emotions, something Wadanohara had learned to understand over time. Fukami was socially awkward, being isolated for most of his life, and the constant abuse and hate he received from others made it hard for him to fully express himself. Wadanohara learned there were two things Fukami felt safe doing: one big one was using his tentacles. It was super rare when Fukami would do anything with his hands, as he always had his tentacles on the job to do whatever he wanted while his hands were tucked away in pockets or hidden.

Wadanohara was always interested in familiars, or creatures as a whole. From living in the sea kingdom, there were always two types: ones who preferred to stay in their original form, and those who could change into a human at will. Of course the traits of whatever animal they originally were would show in their new form, some more subtle than others. What came with that also was their instincts. Familiars, despite how much they seem human, are still creatures in the end, creatures who developed and learned over time. In a sense, they had their own form of magic. She would instantly think of her own familiars in her observations. It seemed people like Sal and Samekichi were able to alter forms back and forth, while Memoca and Dolphi, being the youngest of the group, only maintained their human forms. A part of her assumed it was preference, but also how strong the familiar was. Transforming back and forth was the same as using her magic - you needed endurance.

And then there was Fukami. When Wadanohara looked at him, he was different. Not in a drastic way – no – it was how you could tell what his mannerisms were like. Despite his human body, he relied more on his tentacles and animal senses more than anything else. She had always meant to ask him all sorts of questions, but for him it was a bit more sensitive than that. Never once had Wadanohara encountered an octopus with the mark – heck, finding any octopuses lately was a rare occurrence. Most had been locked away or killed in the past. For Fukami to be the newest victim to its curse made her heart hurt. If her theory was correct, down the line it wouldn't be long before Fukami would forget even her, he would forget his morals... who his friends were... The only remaining thought on his mind would be to hunt and destroy.

And of course, there's the other thing Fukami fell back on for reassurance: the fact he wasn't forced to speak. Fukami never really said much, mainly more on the moments where it was needed. Idle chatter was something he tried to avoid, but not because he didn't want to – God, no. It took Wadanohara a week for him to confess, he just... genuinely didn't know what to say. Being away from people for so long, he wasn't even sure how to have a normal conversation, always fearing he might say something wrong.

Just unraveling the bandages from his arms, she couldn't help but look at him with concern. He was still too young for this... much too young. For him to start showing signs terrified the sea witch.

"What am I going to do with you...?" she muttered softly, cupping his cheek in her hand. Fukami didn't say anything but looked at her surprised as she gently pressed her forehead onto his. "I promise I'll help you... So please, you need to trust me on this."

The two stayed there in silence. Fukami carefully reached out to touch her arm, but flinched and withdrew. Instead he let his tentacle do the job, brushing her hair back and pulling her to sit down beside him. Despite his discomfort to receiving help, he loved Wadanohara... He loved her with all his life. The fact she was even doing all of this for him was a foreign feeling, something he didn’t want to lose.

He sighed. "I'll accompany you tomorrow to the castle..."

Wada smiled. “Good. Now you need more rest, ok?”

Fukami was about to argue he wasn’t tired, but the drowsy feeling told him otherwise. He grumbled to himself as he laid down, slowly resting his head on her lap, his body getting weak as he felt himself slip away. He looked absolutely adorable to Wadanohara, who thought it was nice seeing him calm. Looking out the window, it was already beginning to get dark out. Her own eyes began to close as she yawned and tried to sit up. But she felt Fukami's tentacle tug her arm not to leave, mumbling something as he pulled her closer to him. Flustered though amused, Wadanohara stayed put until he was satisfied. Her hand absentmindedly stroked his hair, feeling for his neck to feel if it was warm. It still was, but not as bad as it had been a while ago. His breathing was slow and steady. Curling around Wada slightly, he looked vulnerable. Her smile faltered as she looked at the window. “I'll keep you safe… I promise.”

--

“Wake up! I'm hungry!”

Wadanohara jolted awake, face to face with Memoca on her bed, who was staring at her with a pout on her face. It took her a few seconds to realise she had fallen asleep in her dress. She also realised that last night she'd slept with Fukami. That made her heart race with embarrassment. She jumped up, looking around, and noticed he was still sleeping with his face buried in the pillow. It looked hilarious – his hair was ruffled up and he was tossing and turning in his sleep.

“A-Ah… I'll be downstairs soon.” Watching Memoca go downstairs, she sighed and walked to a mirror to inspect how she looked. Her clothes were wrinkled from rolling around in them. Thankfully, Wada knew just the spell to fix it. She gave her skirt a quick brush off before closing her eyes. Her hands gathered energy as she focused on her clothes, and soon they glowed faintly, restoring their condition nice and proper. She gave a little twirl around, happy with the results, and followed Memoca downstairs.

Some time had passed, and Fukami had finally opened his eyes. “Hnn…” he grumbled, lifting his head from the pillow, dazed to what was going on.

“Morning Fukami, how are you feeling?” Wadanohara asked curiously, walking beside his bed.

She watched him groggily sit up, rubbing his eyes. “Still tired…” he groaned.

He would do his routine Wada had watched him do countless of times. His tentacles would do all the work while he would try to wake up. He slipped his coat off and hung it up while brushing his hair. It must be useful to multitask the way he did, Wada thought to herself, watching how easy it was for him. With magic, sure, she could do the same thing, yet it never really occurred to her as something she needed to do. For Fukami, however, it was just part of his nature.

“Are you making breakfast...?”

She snapped out of her thoughts. “Ah, you're right!” She exclaimed, quickly running downstairs before Memoca would try and tackle her out of hunger, leaving him alone.

--

God, that was so embarrassing, Fukami thought, his hands covering his face as he moaned in agony. He laid on her lap, and made her stay! Normally he wouldn’t do that, he was too shy and stubborn. To Wadanohara, he had to be her mentor, her familiar... And yet, he felt safe in her warmth. He could hear her downstairs with the others as he laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He’ll come downstairs later, he thought, as he rolled on his side to the window. The burning had gone down, thankfully – not completely, but it was bearable now as he didn’t have to flinch when people touched it. A part of him considered if maybe Tatysumia would help him, but another part felt irritated that Wada would even think that they would help him: some sort of monster that no one even cared about. His hands gripped the sheets as he tried to think of something else, anything. He really wanted to make some excuse that he was busy, or accidentally do something that caused them to postpone their visit to the castle. But Wadanohara was persistent, he knew that very well already.

Fukami loved that about her, though.

He just wanted to tell her how he felt inside. Wadanohara was the only one to make him feel complete, but Samekichi… That shark had stolen her heart... No. He was always in her mind even before the two had met. Even though he was in the red sea, she still cared about him, constantly smiling and reassuring to everyone he was coming back, when really he could tell it was for her sake more than anyone else's. At first, when the shark had left, he thought she would finally get over him and pay attention to him for once, but seeing her suffer was not worth it. It never was. But what was he supposed to do? It wasn’t fair of him to even think this way, yet it would be on his mind constantly. He wanted to steal her away, but he didn’t want to make her upset. She was his everything, his life, his purpose. Without her, he was lost... and now that this stupid curse was taking its course, he felt bitter that the only reason she paid any attention was because he was suffering.

He’d never tell her. She can’t know how he feels. If he did, it would ruin everything. Either she would laugh at him as if it was a joke, or she would slap him and be shocked he would even think that she was okay after Samekichi had left. It was better to suffer in silence than to break her heart further by making her choose what she really wanted.

“Fukami, breakfast is ready!”

He would protect her no matter what...

Shaking his head, he stood up and sorted his coat out only to feel sick inside. He coughed harshly into his hand, his world spinning for a few seconds... and then he realised he was coughing up blood. Black blood.

“Come on, I’m gonna eat your food if you don’t come!” Memoca shouted up the stairs.

Fukami tried to keep calm, quickly wiping the blood off. “I’m coming, hang on.”

[dawnbutterfly]

Adoption

“Butters! Butters! Listen to my voice!”

Grant held on to the boy's shoulders, desperately trying to reach him. Several other students in the hallway watched on sadly.

“T-T-They're gonna get me!” Butters screamed, his eyes wild and darting back and forth. “He's gonna kill me!”

Ever since his suicide attempt, Butters had been having more and more hallucinations. After all he'd been through in such a short period of his life, it shouldn't have surprised anyone.

It started off small, but slowly the visions became more and more threatening, until he began having full on breakdowns.

“Ignore them! Don't pay attention to that!” Grant said, giving his shoulders the tiniest of shakes to get his attention. “Focus on me, Butters! Block out everything else!”

Butters' eyes slowly fell on Grant's face, twitching, but unsteadily focused.

“Just focus on me.” Grant said evenly, trying to bring Butters down. “Let everything else go. Everything's going to be okay, just look into my eyes.”

Butters slowly stopped shaking, as he focused more and more on Grant's face. He let the rest of the world fall out away from him.

“G-Grant?” He asked, as though finally waking up.

Grant hugged him close, relieved that he'd managed to bring Butters back yet again. “That's the third time this week…” He mumbled. “Worst one yet…”

Butters returned the hug, unembarrassed. “I-I'm sorry to be such a bother…” He said sadly.

Grant pulled away, his hands on the boy's shoulders again. “Don't ever say that. None of this is your fault.” He said softly.

Butters just nodded.

“Butters, I…” Grant began. “What was it that you saw this time? You looked more terrified than you ever have…”

Butters looked away.

“Butters…” Grant began. He had a suspicion. “Was it… was it your parents?”

Butters flinched at the suggestion. Grant closed his eyes knowingly.

“That's it…” He said. “I'm going to get you help for this.”

“G-Grant, I don't like the doc-”

“Real help.” Grant reaffirmed. “Not those incompetent hacks down at Hell's Pass.”

He pulled Butters back into a hug. “I'm going to get you actual psychological help.” He assured him. “I won't let you get hurt again…”

Butters was silent.

⁂

“Hey…” Grant said, as he entered the hospital room.

Butters looked over, a small smile coming to his face. “H-Hey Grant…” He said.

“So, I heard the results of the scans and tests came back.” Grant said. “Is it…”

Butters was silent for a moment. “…paranoid schizophrenia…” He said quietly.

Grant clenched his fist. “Damn it…” He mumbled. “You're too young to have to go through this…”

Butters sighed. “They said…” He began, but trailed off.

Grant looked up at him. “They said what?” He asked. Butters shifted uncomfortably. “Butters, what did they say?”

“They said… that it's almost unheard of for someone my age to have this disorder…” Butters said. “…and that it might have been caused by… heavy abuse…”

Grant closed his eyes. It was all he could do to hide how angry he was. “Butters, I'm so sorry this is happening to you. You don't deserve any of this…” He said. “But I promise, I'm going to-”

“Butters!” A voice from the hall came. Butters flinched at hearing it, but steeled himself and remained composed.

“It's not real…” He mumbled. “It's just a hallucination…”

Grant, however, slowly turned around. “Yeah. Just a hallucination. Don't worry about a thing…” He said, preparing himself. Butters looked at him, worry and terror very slowly creeping into his face.

Stephen Stotch came storming into the room, followed shortly by Linda. “What's this I hear about you disrupting school again!? And now you're wasting time and money in the hospital!?” He bellowed. “You are grounded, mister!”

Butters screamed and recoiled in terror, unable to maintain the thought that it was a hallucination. However, before Stephen could walk any further into the room, Grant 'summoned' one of his favorite toys: An alien laser rifle. “Take one step closer to him, and I'll reduce you to ash, you abusive pile of garbage!” He shouted back, causing both parents to stop.

“How dare you!? Threatening me with a toy while I'm trying to discipline my son!” Stephen yelled at him. “This is none of your business, New Kid!”

Grant turned his rifle to the left and fired it, leaving a large scorch mark on the wall. Stephen and Linda looked at it with terror. A nurse quickly ran at the sound, and stopped dead, seeing the standoff.

“I fucking disagree!” Grant shouted, looking back at Butters. The boy was cradling his head in his hands, clearly unable to handle the stress of the situation. Grant took a deep breath.

“The only reason you're still alive is because further trauma will exacerbate his condition.” Grant said coldly. “But come any closer, and I'll shoot your god damn legs off.”

Neither Stephen nor Linda dared move an inch.

“N-N-Now, New Kid, w-we can talk about this, c-can't we?” Stephen stammered out. “W-We're just here for our son.”

“He's not your son anymore.” Grant said, his words like a knife.

“W-What do you mean!?” Linda asked.

“I called child protective services. They should be finishing their investigation as we speak.” Grant said, the Stotch parents' eyes widening. “We spoke earlier, and they've been talking to our friends from school all afternoon.”

“By now, I wouldn't be surprised if they have enough testimony to put you two bastards in jail. Either way, you monsters are sure as hell never going to lay a hand on Butters ever again.”

“Oh god…” Linda mumbled in horror. Stephen's eyes shifted to anger once more.

“You're a liar! We've done nothing wrong!” Stephen yelled.

“I'm sure you believe that…” Grant said spitefully.

“This is ridiculous!” He yelled. “Butters! Get over here! We're checking you out and leaving!”

Butters stopped rocking, his eyes darting back and forth once again.

“Butters! I said now! Or do you want to be grounded for even longer!?”

Butters finally snapped. “SHUT UP!” He screamed, much to the shock of his parents. “I'M NEVER GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU AGAIN!”

“Butters!” Stephen yelled again.

“No!” Butters retorted. “You've been awful to me for as long as I can remember!”

“You treated me like I was some kind of burden! Convinced me that I was dirt! A bad person! That no matter what I did, I was always wrong!”

He turned to face them, tears streaming down his face. “You… YOU'VE BEEN ABUSING ME FROM THE START! Mentally! Emotionally! Even physically!” He cried. Linda's hand flew over her mouth, and tears came to her eyes as well.

By that time, orderlies had arrived outside the room, and were hesitantly waiting to see what to do. Between the screaming schizophrenic, his apparently abusive parents, and the boy with the gun, they weren't sure quite how to handle the situation.

“I… I'm not afraid of you anymore!” Butters shouted. “Not while my friend is here! You're never going to hurt me again!”

Stephen's expression changed to cockiness. “And where do you think you'll go, huh!? If they take you away, they're going to stick you in some foster home, and you'll be miserable for the rest of your life!” He shouted.

“I'm glad you brought that up, Stephen.” Grant said sharply, drawing everyone's attention. “It gives me an opportunity to do this.”

Grant turned to look at Butters. “I've had some friends in social services pull some strings, and talked it over with a lawyer. It was a bit rushed, but…”

Grant pulled out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket and set it on the bed. “I convinced my parents. If you'll have us, we've drafted up the papers.” He said. “They'd be happy to adopt you.”

Butters' eyes went wide, as he shakily picked up the paper. He unfolded it, and saw that it was, indeed, a fully filled out adoption form. He looked at his parents, and then at Grant. Stephen made to speak up, but was cut off when Grant cocked his laser rifle menacingly.

Butters stared at the paper, his whole body shaking, as tears came to his eyes again. “P-Please…” He started.

“Get them away from me, big brother!” He cried.

Grant closed his eyes with a contented sigh. “Actually, I'm seven months younger than you.” He said with a small chuckle, turning to the Stotch ex-parents. “Orderlies, if you would please take these two child abusers away. They have no further business here.”

The orderlies looked between each other warily, but quickly moved and grabbed the two adults.

“This isn't over, you hear me!?” Stephen shouted as he was dragged away. Linda could be heard crying out not to be taken from her son all the way down the hall.

“Yeah, yeah, that's what all the villains say…” Grant mumbled, as he put away his rifle. The remaining orderly and the nurse looked at him uncomfortably, seeming quite afraid.

Grant grinned sheepishly. “Don't worry, it's not actually dangerous.” He admitted. “It's pretty much nothing more than a fancy, alien taser.”

“S-Sorry about the wall, though…” He said. “I got a little… caught up in the moment…”

“Young man…” The nurse began. “You should… probably go.”

Grant sighed and nodded. “I know…” He said. “I've caused far too much stress for him already…”

“H-Hey! I'd be under a lot more stress if you hadn't chased my-” Butters stopped, the words caught in his throat.

“If you hadn't chased Stephen and Linda away.” He said, looking like he was struggling to mentally sever a bond.

Grant smiled sadly, and walked over to him, taking hold of his hand. “You're right, but I should still go. After all this, you're going to need a lot of rest.”

He gave Butters a hug from the side of the bed. “We'll finalize everything once you get out of the hospital. They won't hurt you again.” He said reassuringly.

He could hear Butters sniffling. “T-Thank you… little bro.” He said with a giggle.

Grant pulled away gently, and turned towards the door. “Hey… could you check if the Stotch's are going to be detained for the night in the jail?” Grant asked. “And if not… could you keep an orderly posted here?”

The nurse smiled sympathetically at him. “We'll keep him safe. You don't have to worry.” She said.

“Thank you…” Grant replied with a returned smile.

He turned back to Butters. “I'll see you again, if not tomorrow then overmorrow.” He told him. Butters gave him a funny look at his archaic word choice, but smiled and nodded.

Grant slowly departed Butters' room, heading out to the parking lot where his parents were waiting.

“So, how'd it go?” His dad asked as he got in the car.

“Well, the Stotch's showed up, like I thought…” Grant said. “And… he called me 'brother'…”

His mother smiled. “Well, that sounds like a yes to me.” She said, as she started the car up.

Grant smiled and looked out the window. “Yeah. It does…”

⁂

“How are you doing?” Charlotte asked from the other side of the screen.

Butters had finally gotten all set up in his new home. It took a little rearranging, but they had gotten two beds into Grant's room with enough space to move about.

Stephen and Linda had tried to appeal social services' ruling, but the testimony was overwhelmingly against them. That, coupled with the demonstrable damage to Butters' psyche, was more than enough to shut down any chance they had of overturning the decision. In the end, they managed to dodge jail time, but they had been made to pay heavy fines, and would never be allowed to raise children, or see Butters, ever again.

As a final act of spite, Stephen had pawned off all of Butters' belongings to make up for the fines. Butters insisted Grant not try to go out and collect all of his stuff again, saying he didn't need it, but Grant decided to at least retrieve his computer's hard drive from the shop anyway. Data was, in a way, a lot harder to replace than physical items.

“Much better, now that I'm away from them…” Butters replied. “We've finally gotten me all moved in, and the paperwork is done.”

“And… the hallucinations?” She asked, barely hidden, agonizing worry in her voice.

Butters closed his eyes and sighed. “They're not as bad, most of the time. And Grant's there to help me when they happen…” He said. “But, sometimes… it's still them…”

Charlotte looked at her boyfriend sadly. She had been devastated to hear Butters' hallucinations weren't an isolated incident. She hated that she couldn't be there with him to help in such a difficult time in his life, and could only talk from the other side of a screen miles away.

Charlotte sighed. “I'm just glad there is someone there to help you, my love.” She said.

“You can count on that.” A voice sounded from the doorway to the room. Butters jolted slightly, turning to see Grant leaning against the door frame with a smile.

“Hey bro…” Butters said with a returned smile as Grant walked into view of the webcam.

“I don't think we've formally met.” Grant said with a small wave to the girl on screen.

“No, but Butters has told me much about you. Thank you so much for helping my love.” Charlotte said.

She looked down for a moment, then back to Grant. “Please, do take care of him, won't you?” She requested.

Grant smiled. “Of course. Brothers have to look out for each other, after all.” He said reassuringly.

Charlotte closed her eyes and nodded with a smile. “Thank you. There is not much I can do for him from all the way up here in Canada. I can rest easy knowing he has someone to protect him.” She said.

His eyes lit up. “Oh, right!” He said, rushing over to the trunk at the foot of his bed. “I forgot, I actually had a reason for coming up here…”

Butters watched as he shuffled through the contents of the trunk, eventually pulling out a Canadian Halberd, which was far too long to have realistically fit inside the trunk. With a flash, he also donned his green-dyed Bishop outfit.

Grant rested the halberd on his shoulder, and headed towards the door. “I actually have some business with the Prince of Canada.” He said. “Who knows, maybe we'll run into each other while I'm up there.” He said with a smirk.

“Wait, you what?” Charlotte asked, dumbfounded.

Grant simply waved. “Have fun, you two!” He said, exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

Butters and Charlotte looked at each other. “He does that sort of thing all the time.” Butters said with a chuckle. “No need to worry.”

“How is he even going to get to Canada?” She asked.

“He knows a shortcut through the woods!” Butters said happily.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, but after a moment's pause, broke out into giggles, to Butters' confusion. She sighed happily, though.

Butters couldn't be in safer hands.

[wayneooverton]

8 reasons to visit the South Island in winter

Erica is an American mountain muse living an unconventional life in New Zealand. Part time barista, full-time type II fun seeker. Follow her tales from the trails here and here. 

Every year I get a handful of messages from people mapping out their New Zealand winter itinerary and each person always asks the same question. Is it worth going to the South Island in the winter?

Listen, I get it. You see New Zealand on a map and you see how far south the South Island is and you can’t help but imagine spending your entire holiday trudging through an icy winter tundra. But here’s the thing: New Zealand is a pretty small country and the North Island is not that incredibly far or different from the South Island. In fact, with the North Island humidity, frizzy haired people like myself will argue that the South Island is actually preferable all year round. Plus, there are significantly less people around in winter. You have the place to yourself.

10 Reasons Why New Zealand in Winter Rocks

As an ardent lover of seasons, I’ll argue that ALL South Island seasons are magnificent and deserving of your precious holiday time but it’s time for winter to have its moment. It’s time we give this magical season all the attention and glory it deserves.

Here are my top 8 reasons to visiting the South Island in the winter.

1. No Sandflies

Ok, that’s not entirely true.

Perhaps limited sandflies would be more accurate. If you have been to New Zealand before, I’m going to give you minute to ponder over that thought. Think of the most beautiful places you saw in New Zealand and how quickly you came to despise them because of the nasty little flies who carry the bite of a horse. Imagine enjoying the bliss and serenity of Milford Sound or the West Coast while not having to worry about these demonic flesh eating monsters who literally use saw-like barbs to tear open human flesh.

If you have never been to New Zealand before, you’ll have to trust me that this alone is reason enough to book a trip for the winter.

Māori legend has it that sandflies were creating to discourage visitors for lingering too long in the most beautiful parts of the country. If that’s not the most Kiwi legend I don’t know what is.

Oh, you’re enjoying something beautiful? Move along please and definitely don’t talk about it too much.

These little pests are mostly blind so they disappear at night and are attracted to warmth. As much as I despise these little jerks, I have to tip my hat to one of mother nature’s most impressive ladyboss species. The females sandflies are the only ones who bite and they’ll travel great distances for a tasty blood meal because drinking blood is vital to their ability to lay eggs. Lady sandflies getting shit done.

How’s that for girl power?

2. Explore the South Island’s hot pools

Summer is for escaping the brutal New Zealand sun by jumping in glacier lakes and refreshing rivers. The last thing anyone wants to do on a 30-degree day is soak in a hot pool.

Winter, however, is the perfect time to explore and discover the plethora of the South Island’s hot pools. Sure, they are not as plentiful as the North Island but the South Island can definitely hold its own.

For the keen outdoor lovers, head to the Welcome Flats Hut on the Copland Track on the West Coast. This 20 km walk is long but gentle with minimal elevation change. At the end of your hike, you’ll be rewarded with a modern hut to rest your head for the night and your choice of three natural hot pools. I have done this hike in the summer and the winter and winter is the definite winner. Not only will you have more space to stretch out in the hot pools but the warm water will actually feel good and HELLO no sandflies.

Win win win.

For those looking for some hot springs without the work, enjoy the luxury hot springs in Lake Tekapo or Hanmer Springs. No matter your location, you’ll be within close proximity to a good soak with epic views.

3. Discover New Zealand’s cafe scene

New Zealand is a country that takes its coffee consumption very seriously. It’s not uncommon to find a world class espresso machine in a petrol station, neighborhood gym or local bike shop. You can get a decent coffee almost anywhere in New Zealand but where this country really shines is its dedicated cafe culture. Unlike in the USA where cafes have become every freelancer’s home-away-from-home-office, New Zealand cafes pride themselves on being the epicenter of social catch ups. In fact, don’t be surprised if many New Zealand cafes don’t have offer wifi. Many discourage laptop squatters and prefer to keep their tables open for customers who are there to get the full cafe experience.

Kiwis have been taking notes from the Brits when it comes to their morning and afternoon tea. Every day between 10 and 10:30, the cafes begin to buzz with working professionals and tradies alike taking a break from their day to meet up with friends or grab a quick bite to eat. In the afternoon, they take another break for cake and tea.

If you find yourself looking for something to do on a rainy winter day, order yourself a flat white and post up in a cafe for a bit while you watch the local community thrive around you.

4. Explore small town quirks

In the summer, nobody really wants to spend the day inside but winter is the perfect chance to explore the weird little nooks and crannies that make each South Island town so unique.

Interesting road trip pit stops are plentiful in the South Island. Maybe check out the Totara Estate, a historic 1800’s South Island farm credited for being the birthplace of New Zealand’s billion dollar frozen meat industry. Or perhaps you’ll pop into Adventure Books in Oamaru where you could easily spend a few hours of sifting through collection worthy adventure literature books. Treat yourself to a movie at Cinema Paradiso in Wanaka where traditional cinema charts have been swapped out for upcycled cozy couches. During intermission, indulge in their famous freshly baked cookies or glass of a local pinot noir. It’s like watching a movie in the comfort of your own living room with 50 strangers.

The South Island is filled with these hidden treasures that are often overlooked in the summer when tourists are busy filling their holiday itineraries with sunny activities. Visit the South Island in the winter and you’ll discover secret spots not everybody takes the time to see.

5. Shred the pow

I’ve been dancing around this one for long enough but it just seems so obvious. Clearly one of the biggest draws to the South Island in the winter is the access to world class alpine terrain. In Wanaka alone, you’ll be a stone throw away from a handful of top-notch ski fields.

Where else in the world are you going to get views like the ones offered at the top of Treble Cone? Fresh white powder overlooking sunny Lake Wanaka? Yes please! Treble Cone is perfect for groups with varied abilities. For beginners, their bunny slope for learners is free! For those looking to make fresh tracks on backcountry terrain, their backcountry lift pass is only $40/day and gives you access to some of the best (and quietest) views in the area.

Are large ski resorts not for you? Explore the quirky “club ski fields” where you’ll find uncrowded slopes and *interesting* lift configurations. Or for those who prefer to do their own thing in peace and quiet, rent some gear in town and head out for some snowshoeing or cross country skiing.

At the very least, buy yourself a sled from The Warehouse and shred the pow like 7 year old on a snow day. Whatever your cup of tea, get out there and enjoy the uniquely surreal snowy landscapes.

6. You can still do (mostly) everything outdoors!

Ok so maybe skiing and snowboarding is really just not your thing. I get it. It can suck sometimes.

Good news is, while everyone is having a ball up the mountain, you can still get your fix in town because the climate is actually incredibly mild. Yes, it’s a little chilly sometimes but the temperatures hardly drop below freezing in the winter and there’s never snow on the ground.

Here’s a list of all the things you could theoretically do in the winter: take a walk, ride a bike, play frisbee golf, do an ollie at the skate park, put a cute dog on the end of your SUP board and paddle out to Ruby Island in Wanaka, window shop, enjoy a beer in the sun, climb up a waterfall on the Via Ferrata in Wanaka, send a route at one of the local outdoor climbing hubs, skydive pretty much everywhere, walk in a field of lavender, pet a sheep, drink a glass of wine in the sun, ride a horse hike up a mountain, take a ski-plane onto New Zealand’s longest glacier and go snowshoeing. Really, you can do it all.

The point is unless it’s pouring down torrential rain, the winters are actually pretty pleasant. You can still enjoy all the things you would in the summer, just with an extra few layers on. Trust me, just because it’s in the mountains, it’s not that cold. Embrace the kiwi spirit, put on some wooly layers, harden the fuck up a bit, and don’t let a little cold air stop you!

7. Enjoy the rugby season

If you’re like me, you like to be fully immersed in the culture you’re visiting, even if that means screaming and shouting at real life giants playing a game you don’t understand on TV.

Rugby is king in New Zealand. Even the non-fans still have a good grasp of what the game is actually about and how each team is doing throughout the season.

Good rugby is a huge source of national pride for Kiwis. When I first moved to New Zealand in 2015, I woke up at 3 am one day to watch the New Zealand All Blacks battle South Africa in the Rugby World Cup semi-finals. I was told that if I missed it, I might not get another opportunity to see them again in all of their glory. That turned out to be wrong because they made it to the finals (and later won the world cup) the next day.

Needless to say, Kiwis love their rugby and if you want to understand this cultural obsession, visit New Zealand in the winter so you can wake up at 4 am to go to a classic bar to watch these incredible athletes mow each other down.

8. Experience all of the winter festivals

The South Island is home to some seriously cool winter festivals. Let’s start with Matariki, the Māori New Year. You’ll find celebrations in pretty much every town across the country, each with their own Hakas, Hangis, and fireworks.

Queenstown hosts Winter Festival, a 10-day long event marking the start of winter complete with all the coziness associated with a winter Christmas market without the stress of having to Christmas shop. Street markets, dog derby, live music, comedy shows and of course more fireworks. The most compelling event, however, is the dog barking competition where dogs are commanded to bark on cue. If the dog doesn’t bark, the owner gets on all fours and barks on the dog’s behalf.

If dog barking competitions are wacky enough for you, check out Omaru’s annual Steampunk Festival held every year on the Queen’s Birthday Weekend. Omaru is New Zealand’s Steampunk capital and this festival is the self-proclaimed premier and longest running Steampunk event of the Southern Hemisphere.

Perhaps you’re looking for something a little more mellow like the New Zealand Mountain Film and Book Festival held in Wanaka and Queenstown. This epic week long festival offers workshops and courses as well as world premiere showings of mountain films. This year, the film festival had an entire segment dedicated to up and coming NZ directors ranging from a 10-year-old Lake Hawea crusher to professional mountaineers. If you love mountain culture, you’ll love this film fest. Liz has also been a speaker here for the past few years.

New Zealand’s South Island in winter is pretty awesome. Have you been? Do you travel in winter? Share!

The post 8 reasons to visit the South Island in winter appeared first on Young Adventuress.

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[survivordivergent]

EPISODE 1 (PART 2) - “WHY U NO MORE ACTIVE DO U WANNA DIE” - PAYTON

okay so this game is actually a little scary bc essentially it's starting over. Like im treating these people as newbies that Ive never played with before and that's scary. Im comparing to Malaysia, which started off so well. I had a solid alliance literally in the first hour of that game. And the tribe itself talked all the time. Here? Candor talk, but not a lot. And pms are like, dead. Im so afraid of bringing up an alliance with anyone bc I dont want to play hard just yet. Im trying to just be agreeable anf likeable. I'm working on those acting skills for you, Jenn!  Anyway, I think we have a decent shot at immunity. Our faction we created, though ironic considering the theme of the season, is solid. If we can avoid tribal this round, I'll work on forming stronger bonds with the others, specifically Jill. Anyway, I'm done talking for now..

I like the Amity tribe for the most part. Kyle seems like a very solid person. We've had preliminary chats and I feel like I can trust them. That's super important on a four person tribe. I also like Will — we've talked about speed running video games, which is something I watch on YouTube to kill time at work.

Kyle and I have agreed to swap info RE: idols. That's the best I can hope for right now — that, and trust. Which is why I intend on being fully forthcoming. You need a ride or die in these games.

I haven't talked to Betty yet, which is a shame. But when you're on a four person tribe, you take any weakness you can get. I just hope the same holds true with Kyle and Will.

It's been very hard to stay in character. I've had to avoid four things that are distinctly me:

1. Starting sentences by dropping the subject (e.g., Can't believe this vs. I can't believe this) 2. Overt Canadianism — I've been using 'huh' instead of 'eh' and dropping u's in words where they CLEARLY BELONG 3. Endless use of the em dash — — — 4. Excessive emoji use.

Even still, I'm paranoid that I'm being too me. I thought being an "English major" would give me good cover to use full sentences, but I definitely didn't think through the fact that I'm one of the only ones to use proper punctuation and capitalization in TS, anyway. It's also why I'm not as talkative or as jokey as usual. I really don't want a bad pun to accidentally slip out, because that's more or less a giveaway.

*Moments Later*

Good/bad/ugly kind of day.

Good: Kyle and I traded idol info. We worked together on the Erudite clue and found the first hidden blog. Appears to be blocked until we get the next clue, though. But that was definitely a show of good faith and I'm glad Kyle can be trusted.

Bad: I got sweet nothing at the Amity idol. Like, not even remotely okay. No usable info at all. Bleh.

Ugly: Kyle and I are the only ones talking in tribe chat. Which, like... no? We've got a group challenge to do??? Kinda hard to incorporate everyone when everyone's not around.

I want a new tribe.

Me @ this entire tribe: 

Like actually though, how do I contact their real accounts and tell them I'd like to talk to them? This whole checking in for five minutes every 10 hours while Drewlissa does the comps thing isn't working. Or actually, sadly, I guess it is working, but it should probably stop before I cry.

This comp is due in seven hours or so and, aside from picking a name, I've gotten no help at all from my tribe. It's mildly ironic that we're doing a laid-back faction, because the amount to which everyone else is so laid back is really stressing me out.

It reminds me of team projects in high school, where the person who cared least always did the least amount of work. I've never been that person. I can't do that. It bothers me that I can't in this case, but it's just not wired into my genetics. And since I haven't heard from Will or Betty (WHOSE NAME I HAD TO DOUBLE CHECK JUST NOW) since the first day... it's stressful, dude. I don't want us to go to tribal first. But then again, would it really be a bad thing?

Yes, probably. The person who sticks out is usually the first to go and, by virtue of ACTUALLY TRYING TO DO THE CHALLENGE, I'm the person who sticks out on this tribe. Fuck me. I'm going to do the written part, but I refuse to do the Photoshoppy bit. Someone else has to do that. Pat is always the one who volunteers to do the artsy stuff. Ed is much more comfortable with written words than graphics. So Ed's passing the buck on that one task.

If nobody else does it, we're getting a super shitty Paint edit. And we'll deserve every bit of scorn that's heaped on us. And while Ed will be dismayed, Pat will be laughing his ass off because if people aren't invested or trying, they don't deserve nice things.

Ed is really trying to embody the ideals of Amity tribe. Kindness. Peace. Giving freely, trusting that you will be given what's needed. But Ed can only give so much before he reaches his breaking point. Peace, kindness, absolutely. Ed's been pushing in the tribe chat, but with a smile on his face and in a non-confrontational way. All I can hope is that Will, Betty and Kyle see fit to give freely, too, in the next seven hours.

Easily the most frustrating thing I've run across in my ORG career. Including being blindsided on three separate occasions and being booted because I alerted an ally that the minority was gunning for him.

Lemme see if I can knock this out before Survivor starts.

So things are still very quiet at Amity, the only person really active other than me is Ed. So I got to talking to Ed, and he suggests that we work together for now, which I don't have an objection to because he seems pretty cool. Ed and I continue talking and we end up helping each other find idols. We made a deal that I'd find the Erudite idol, and he'd find Amity. I'm hoping that Ed is holding true, at least for now, because he really doesn't have a reason not to.

Then there's Betty who went completely MIA for a day but apparently it was because she was studying. I talked to her a bit the first night but the conversation ended when I said I was craving meatballs.

And there's Will who I talked to for a bit the first two nights but we're starting to lose touch, so I'm gonna have to fix that soon.

For the most part, I just want to make sure I have strong enough connections with everyone on my tribe so that if we happen to lose a challenge, I have flexibility.

I don't think I'm gonna try to ally with anyone. I'm considering ways to play my game, hopefully by being charismatic. I think if anything, Jill is my best route. She seems mature, level headed, and she speaks to me. I talk to her and Eliza equally, though Eliza seems a little naive almost? But I wouldn't vote her off first. She did good for us in reward, and had really good ideas in Immunity. I think Peter is just... not a good click. I think he got a bad mix for a tribe and I think he is busy with college. But it's not that I don't like him, I do! I just really want to get to know him more. So I'm hoping we are in the top two. Whew. Oh boy.

There's.... five factions isn't there... uh... I meant top three. Yep.

So as we are waiting for immunity results, I am talking to Payton. I fully believe we did a great job with this challenge and I think we have a pretty good chance of being one of the winning tribes for this challenge. If it were to happen that we do in fact lose (in which case I can't WAIT to see these other factions because they must be L I T!) I mentioned to Payton that us two and Eliza have been closer to each other than Peter. At least from what I can tell so far. And I think mostly I say that out of challenge performance and overall presence. This is still an awkward game to navigate with everyone being a fake person. None of us are online or social that much and we all know we are 'getting to know' fake people. It is a lot of effort to put in and it seems like everyone mutually agrees it's not totally worth it. This is at least how I am interpreting everything as of right now

Now is probably an appropriate time to make a confessional since I just got voted the FUCK out of Panem.

Okay, so hi! My name is Jaiden Hantz, but for all intents and purposes, I am now Danielle "Barbie" Quinn for Survivor Storybook: Divergent.

Immediately, I'm placed on the Dauntless tribe and I'm already thinking about how I can make some iconic and memorable moves under this brand new identity. I'm definitely adding rocks at the top of the list because, you know, Survivor Storybook STILL has yet to have a rock draw occur in the series! And Barbie succeeds at everything Jaiden fails at (so no, I will not be getting first boot or eighth place. I will be winning).

I think I'm making a TON of rookie mistakes in terms of concealing my identity. I think that I've made it extremely clear who I am because I have a certain set of mannerisms with my language, my typing, and pretty much everything else I have going on. I'm also in the middle of hosting another season, so it's incredibly difficult to give 100% of my time to this season. Although being voted out of Panem tonight literally frees up a huge portion of my schedule, I need to begin to systematically eliminate my entire tribe. Venturing out through this game alone without the assistance of my tribemates is such a Dauntless thing to do, lmao.

I also need to begin to formulate a better backstory for myself. I'll be as realistic as possible, and I'll leave small little information notes about who I am as a person. I say that I attend college (university), but that I live at home with my mom and dad and sibling. I haven't determined whether or not to name this sibling, but I'll go ahead and just say that it's my sister because I already have one of those. I need to become more active on my Tumblr blog (which is my next order of business after submitting this confessional) and make it seem like I'm truly a normal person.

Right off the bat, my first targets would be the other Danielle and Otto. Danielle is literally the most inactive person on our tribe, while Otto and I have talked so much and I have been super wary about the bullshit I've been feeding him. I also need to go through my actual skype and delete contacts with the people who I do not talk to frequently that COULD be on this season, as they would be the first to notice if Jaiden signs off of Skype and then shortly after they notice on their other account that Barbie is online; but that we are never online at the same time. I think that this helps conceal my identity better, and I know that "identity" is going to be a large issue for me as time goes along because I do have super noticeable characteristics in my gameplay and language. Otto would pick up on some of these things faster than anyone else because he gives me such a strong vibe of someone who is unbelievably intelligent, and that intimidates me a ton.

I'm hoping that this journey does change a lot about how I play Survivor because I need some harsh improvement. I'm taking some of the lessons I learned from Panem and applying them to this game, so expect me to "pop off" on others less, but strategize and bond with others more. I really am playing this game to finish up and complete my Survivor Storybook experience because it's time for this icon to retire or something.

It's also super weird that I've played in this series four whole times??? Agrabah, Raccoon City, Panem, and now Divergent. Weird. And unlike the other four time player, I'm not a complete and utter flop!

We won immunity!  Thank god.  I feel like I am in trouble with this game. I'm so busy with hosting my own season that at the end of the day this challenge completely slipped my mind. If we were going to tribal I know it would be my neck on the line. Although Geo hasn't really done anything either. I pretty much only talk to Melissa now.

WE DID THAT I'm in love Bless Riley for picking Nelson Mandela because the judges full-on nutted at that.

I can't believe we lost to fucking Mattel. And it's kind of hard to know where yo went wrong when one judge's feedback is 'No.' and 'Nah.' Go to hell, "Indiana." Your alias isn't an excuse to be a rude dick who provides no rationale for low scores.

Anyway, full credit to Erudite and Candor. They definitely knocked it out of the park and I don't think any of us should have come close to touching those two at the top. And while I'm bitter as hell about having to do the challenge with only two of us, STILL kicking ass, then losing to goddamn Barbies...

Actually, let me back up some because I just remembered my last confessional. Kyle came through in the clutch and did some really good stuff in the comp. If I'm going to heap scorn on those who deserve it, I should definitely praise those who deserve it too. And Kyle helped out a LOT. Couldn't have done it without him.

(Slight aside, I feel super awkward using pronouns in this season. What if 'Kyle' is a girl? Or 'Betty' is a guy? I'm trying to avoid them as much as I can but sometimes they slip out.)

Anyway, this vote should be relatively straightforward. Neither Will nor Betty were present for that comp, but Betty hasn't said more than a few words in the tribe chat. At least Will has been around, and helped us quite a bit in reward. Whereas the only thing I've heard from Betty is that the reason they weren't around is that they were studying. Which is fair, but... if they had time to send me that message, did they not have time to check the tribe chat and see that Kyle and I were asking for input?

So, it's looking like Betty. Hopefully Will's on board and doesn't split the vote for the sake of being funny. And hopefully Betty votes, period. Although it may be better if they don't? Doesn't seem like they're especially engaged, anyway.

Fucking Mattel. Are you serious. A faction based on a PLASTIC DOLL?! How is that even logical? I'll give them kudos for the leader, which is funny. But the anthem? Too easy. The Headquarters? Literally copy/paste. (I realize ours isn't much better, as it was just an art filter applied over top of an image. But theirs got 138 points. Ours got not even half that. That's total garbage.)

And for that matter, how do we rate 1's across the board for the name, Indiana?? Just because you don't like the name doesn't mean effort didn't go into it. Doesn't mean it's completely incohesive with our theme. Doesn't mean it's not creative. Rate us low on overall appeal, fine, but that was some grade-A bullshit.

And ditto with the anthem. Fuck right off, that was inspired. How is it any less cohesive with our idea than Barbie Girl or We're In This Together???

God. I'm really upset about these results. We deserved better, but it's clear that one judge didn't care to judge based on the given criteria. And that one judge's scores were enough to put us at a significant  disadvantage. It's really hard to well in a comp when the criteria we're given for success aren't the ones that are being judged.

supposedly danielle is getting voted out 2nite bc shes never online. i think thats the best thing for us to do. hopefully the three of them didn't actually click up to vote me out. Hoping 4 the best tonight!