#but ultimately i wound up coming out to grandma tonight

[wontonsoupho]

THEN GOD

MADE THEM BLUE

© Artist the Author

PILOT | WHEN THE LEVEES BREAK

THERE’S DEATH on THE BRIDGE of MACABRE

WORD COUNT : 1 , 777 words

TRAUMA WARNING : This episode includes the following triggers; death , mild gore , heavy profanity , suicidal attempt/ideation & PTSD. With FULL DISCLOSURE , PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION AND RISK.

EPISODE THEMES : Life & Death

WE NEVER TRULY SEE IT COMING , yet it sings our names so profoundly as the bells ring their piercingly dreadful sound that echos amongst the tunnels of our hearing—Death. Much like the flowers at the peak of a wintertime filled with an ambiance of pure rigidity , swathed in an atmosphere so thick and coarse the oxygen feels like poisonous needles forcing themselves within the confines of your realm of respiration. It can also be resemblant to the quietus ivory specs of sorrow that blanket the face of the earth and kills her ever so softly with their freezing embrace , we too shall pass on and wither away in open air. In life , it is ultimately every beating heart's destiny to die. Being that as it may , when alas that moment arises from the ashes bathing in the essence of the phoenix it tastes as bitter as the element of a nasty surprise. Gently placed , when the Angel of Death himself Mr. Grim Reaper appears before us at the hour of our rapture , we in fact are unable to bear witness to his presence. We are however capable of partaking in learning what it truly means ceasing to exist in the physicality of it all. Shackled in trauma on a stormy October night , two unfortunate souls fell under this curse of carnal demise — and only God alone owned the anecdote to save this tandem's lives.

The sole commodity tangible to his murky oceans of vision with cavernous skies had been total and utter darkness. A cold , wet , and lingering tenebrosity that shared flavors with the iron profusely decorating his buccal cavity — tart and royally uncomfortable. Gripping the steering wheel with one blood gushing hand , the other shakily unlocked his cellular getting a slew of the crimson DNA all over its screen and by miracle or maybe even muscle memory dialed a very important phone number. Aside from the minimal luminescence provided by the headlights of his customized obsidian Lamborghini Aventador , the heavy downpour and winds produced a beatdown only a world champion could give further aided in the reason for his panic whilst his heavy foot applied pressure to the gas pedal that resided above the nearly flooded backroad.

He'd been scared shitless , even with veins bursting full of adrenaline he could still feel the stronghold of absolute fear's crippling touch. That , and an entire planet of detrimental cogitations crashed into the interstice of his most sacred cerebration whilst each painstaking moment set adrift a new memory everlasting — there lied no time to contemplate anything. His actual life and vitality depended on this feat. With the amount of chasmic wounds his ethereally created anatomy had been littered in , it was an utter phenomenon how he even managed to escape altogether analogously in one piece let alone drive.

“Hello?”A woman's raspy tone called out quite groggily from being awoken into the surround sound of the butterfly doored sports vehicle he possessed. “Nova it is three in the morning , shouldn't you be-”

“No time to explain Chitty listen to me , I'm losing a lot of blood! Please. Could you go by Mama So's 'n make sure Nani is safe and sound at her grandma's for me? Matter fact just go get her , I don't wanna chance it. Yamileth went ballistic on me and I need to be assured she doesn't try to harm another soul tonight. I dead can't believe this shit-”

“Wait , wait , wait , WHAT?! Why are you blee-how did this-none of this shit is adding up Nova , what the fuck are you talking about?! What do you mean Yami went loca , and what does my niece have to do with it-what about the storm-”

“Leoni! I might fuckin' die tonight , please! I know Yamileth is your sister. Right now the only thing that is important is Yaniis , so I'm gonna need you to pull your shit together and go get my fucking daughter like yesterday!”

“Nova. You’re not-”

“GO!”

“But-”

The annoying loud triplet chirp of Nova's phone dying cut Leoni off short in her stride , she who just so happened to be the sister of his daughter's mother in which he'd been making great efforts to save whilst medias res his own rescue mission.

“FUCK!”

That was the only cogitation singing like a blackbird during its fecund season off the chambers of his comprehension. Because what a fucking tragedy to become of it at the end of the song. Even for the other deplorable anima who's existence figure eighted on the skinniest layers of ice that very moment , tortuously unaware when and if she'd awake to lay sight upon another sun. As she too partook in a hot pursuit of her divinely favored place in this world that dreadful night , her cerebrum was plagued with a stampede of overwhelming rumination and her feet bled gravel mixed with fine shards of glass. Naming her weak would be a sadly mistaken understatement , she'd grown far into the thick of enervation with promises of a complete burn out. Every minuscule iota she blinked in hopes that the all consuming black onyx surrounding her wouldn't crystallize and swallow her whole , every mere second the rain dove from the heavens to kiss the physiognomy of her mother earth giving life to the grounds we tread upon , the not so lucky damsel of the night ran as far as her legs would stretch out and carry her.

As the high speed winds picked up their haste , her developed yet petite frame shifted slightly on the concrete asphalt underneath her bare feet. She wanted to look behind her , in fact she yearned for it but knew that in the end it was most prudent to keep focus ahead the best that she could to have a better chance of survival. Everything felt as if a blur and it grew difficult to properly navigate to her destination at her own volition , her limbs appeared to be on autopilot as they sprinted towards a place unknown to her psyche. Fight or flight instinct fading slowly from each of the exhausted membranes of her encephalon , the strong sprint she began with was starting to ware off — as well for her grip on sanity and reality. She'd been running for so long that she lost track of her place within space and time. Running for her life , this particular familiar face is a far fetch from the imagination of her departure within her mind.

     With the storm surging like an overloaded electrical system it was a mystery how she'd reached it but there she was , just a few feet shy from The Bridge of Macabre. By then , the waters that swayed under the spine of the overpass sloshed and smacked the viaduct head on , and slowly the woman's soaked anatomy found itself standing at the edge teetering between land and water. There were only two options she had presented to her — kill or be killed or otherwise risk an existence of forever looking over her shoulder just to prolong the inevitable. Four years junior her fourth decade under the sun , how much longer could she keep this up before she got sloppy from weariness or tired from having to live such a risky lifestyle? It all seemed very clear to her what course of action to take , and as the waves crashed up and downstream Macabre River only one thought sailed her Seas of Cogitation.

Death will always come before dishonor.

     Blinding headlights inched in from her peripheral eventually stinging her retinas full on , proving it difficult for her to decipher whether they were real or not due to her growing further and further into delirium. On approach , the very familiar foreign coupe rolled its passenger five percent tinted window down where a face just the same came into view. Gaging the stick shift into park , the driver of the car began to speak up to her.

“Xolani  , what are you doin' out hea' it's a storm!”

     Looking up to the sky , Xolani felt the heavy precipitation and zephyr sweep over her , a sudden calm chilling every pore until she broke out in goosebumps. Pivoting at one eighty , she glared at he who'd spoken to her with hazy vision not really knowing exactly what to say. Because , what was there to say? The trauma between these two ran deeper than bleeding ink traveling throughout threads of cotton fabric.

“Why do you care Xodus? You never cared-”

“I always fuckin' cared fuck you talkin' 'bout?”

“No you didn't! You drove me away and then they took me , only God can save me now.”

“What's that's supposed to mean Goapel-the fuck you got goin' on right now?” Xodus questioned whilst coughing up blood.  “Fuck-”

“Elijah-”

“C'mon Lani , get in. I'm on the way to the hospital 'n as you can see we don't have time to spare.”

     She hadn't noticed it then but , Xodus had been painted with deep stab wounds , and profusely leaking his life essence all over his fresh white tee and gray sweatpants. That was just the reassurance she needed to know this experience was actually happening and was not just some influenced hallucination from the high of her brush with death. Swiftly as remotely possible , Goapele joined Xodus in his Lamborghini Aventador slamming the butterfly door shut. She took a few moments to examine the situation and come to an understanding on the condition he was in.

“Xodus Elijah , what have you gotten yourself into now boy? We need to switch seats , you're losing entirely too much blood.” Xolani chastised him before deciding to help. She did her best to pull his near three hundred pound stature from driver to passenger , but he'd been of no assistance as his breathing began to mirror the tempo of the percussionist beating his heart. “How did you get yourself into this predicament?”

That was the last question Xolani ever got to ask in her life. A second later , the levees holding the overflow of Macabre River — which allotted for a third of the city's land — broke just east up the bank. A tsunami like mass flood hit the streams and surrounding lands sinking them under. One moment both souls were in route to salvation upon Death's Bridge , the next the two were swallowed by the currents of the rapture. Their lungs filled with the very resource needed to sustain their lives , and true euphoria was bestowed upon all six of their senses engulfing them in utopia. Below the waves of Macabre Bridge sank the bodies of Goapele Scott and Xodus Casanova , then God made them BLUE.

•

Hello my favorite little heauxs , I hope you’re all well today! I wrote this episode a month or so ago and released it on Wattpad on 02/01/2023 , so I’m premiering it here on the fifteenth and I want keep a similar odd week pattern in mind for the schedule. I know there isn’t much intel and it may be a bit vague and or cryptic but trust me when I say that every event will fold together like an envelope as my baby girl develops. Feel free to comment your thoughts , concerns , and opinions below , and remember that if you like her to repost her cause she’s a bad bitch 😉. P. S. IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST CLICK THE HYPERLINK ABOVE HERE. Thank you so much for joining me and my friends in the Artiverse , we hope to see you again.

… DID YOU HEAR WHAT HAPPENED THIS WEEK ON THEN GOD MADE THEM BLUE ?

EPISODE 1 | SEEING GHOSTS (PREMIERE — 04/21/2023)

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

.

[honeypirate]

Figure it Out part five

Hinawa x fem reader

Masterlist

The one where stuff happens and the mission isn’t canon I’m just excited to finish the next part where reader is alone for a week lol

this one is longer and more fluffy

Warning- swears.

You groan and hold your throbbing side gingerly, you change into your jumpsuit and tie the sleeves around your waist, leaving on Hinawa’s shirt. you grab one of your pills and your water and slip out the door, following behind the others.

“I like your shirt” he says, voice quiet so only you hear it as he appears behind you. He must have left his room shortly after the time you left yours. you smile and look down, your cheeks flushing “thank you, I think it looks good on me. It belongs to a very amazing man I know.” you say quietly back, your heart fluttering at his chuckle. “I’m sure he enjoys seeing you in it very much” you don’t know when he got so bold, was it because of this morning in bed? You weren't complaining tho, it felt nice to flirt with him a little more obviously.

“Well, he’s my best friend, so if he likes seeing me in his clothes he should tell me.” you whisper back and send a smile over your shoulder as you reach the right door, he opens it for you and you smile in thanks, as you walk past him he leans in to your ear and whispers “I love it” you grin, your cheeks flushing again and your arms getting goosebumps. You sit down at the table and he makes his way over to Obi, who’s pretending like he didn’t see your interaction and trying to pretend like it didn’t make him happy. He was scribbling notes about it to tell everyone later (you guys are like the romance soap opera of the company everyone’s watching and waiting)

You take your pill and set your water on the table, when you look up to Hinawa it’s then you know the mission is big. His face looks grim. You frown and your eyebrows furrow as you wait for the meeting to start.

The mission is in the Chinese peninsula. And you’re not invited. You sigh, you would be invited but since you can’t go because you’re injured, you’re on house sitting duty. You make a mental note to write a letter to your grandma for them to deliver. The seventh, you were told, would be around to help if any infernals come along.

The rest of your day passed slowly, everyone else had things to do to prepare but you couldn’t do anything in your condition. You do some paperwork and write your letters before deciding to just stay out of the way, grabbing a book from your room you head to the roof to at least enjoy the sunshine.

You sit on the roof with your back against the wall, your legs crossed, the warm sun on your face warming the coldness you felt in your soul.

You read your book until the sun began to set, but when you tried to get up, the strain made your wound hurt and pulled at your stitches. You winced as you kept trying, maybe if you could get your knees under you, but everything you tried pulled it and made you whine. When you ultimately gave up, you were panting from the pain and you still didn’t know if you could get up by yourself.

You huffed and tried to think of a plan, do you just wait for someone to find you? Should you try to get someone’s attention? Call for help? You sighed with relief when the door opened

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you” Hinawa said as he came over to where you were sitting, he watched as the panic in your eyes gave way to relief as you looked up at him “do you wanna sit with me for a moment?” You ask with a smile and he nods, when he settles in beside you his hand reaches out to rest against your thigh and you lace your fingers through his, laying your head on his shoulder.

“Sorry if I worried you.” you say and he chuckles softly, relishing the feel of your cheeks warmed from the sun against his shoulder, he squeezes your hand before bringing it to his lips “I’m glad you’re okay” he says as he kisses your knuckles. your cheeks flushed and you chuckled softly “I don’t know if I’m that okay...I can’t get up now, it pulls my stitches” he sighs softly, not in annoyance just a soft sound conveying how grateful he was to find you so you didn’t hurt yourself. He doesn’t say anything, just turns to kiss your head.

“You leave in the morning?” You ask, your voice quiet. “Yes” he says, and his grip on your hand tightens slightly “will you stay with me again tonight?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper, afraid that if you asked any louder it would give away how worried you were that he’d say....

“No” he said and you lifted your head and tensed for a moment before he turned his head towards you with a chuckle “we’re staying in my bigger bed, remember?” You gasp and laugh raising your other hand and slapping his chest lightly as he laughs, reaching up with his other hand to cup your cheek.

“So we’ll stay together tonight?” You ask, he could see the worry in your eyes and he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours “stay with me tonight.” he says and your cheeks flush, your heart fluttering against your ribs. Your hand moves from his chest to rest against the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

He sighs, a soft comforting sound, before pulling back to look at you again, smiling at the sight. Your pupils were slightly dilated and you had the softest of smiles, it made his heart squeeze to see the blush on your beautiful cheeks. He smiles, a soft pleased chuckle falling from his lips before he’s leaning down to bring his lips a breadth away from yours, you suck in a slow gasp your hand moving to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing across his skin as you close the distances, your lips brushing his just slightly before pulling back, your heart rising in your chest as it races. “There you guys are!” Maki says from the doorway and you’re both scrambling away from each other.

You groan, your hand moving to hold your side as you wince, your eyes closing as you breathe through your teeth. “Obi’s called another meeting” she says and then she’s gone again, feeling uncomfortable about catching you guys basically kissing. “Guess we should go” you say, your voice strained and eyes screwed shut as you wait for the pain to subside. This line, the line that you have been dancing around for days, the unspoken feelings that were obvious to everyone, would have to wait. Again.

He stands and crouches next to you, gently moving your hand to see the wet patch of blood seeping through the dark shirt. Your eyes pop open and meet his as you raise a blood smeared finger at him “this isn’t because I laughed so you have to keep your promise still” he chuckles “let’s go” he says, kicking himself for being part of the reason you were bleeding again and easily lifts you to his arms, your hands moving to wrap around his neck to keep you stable.

He doesn’t set you down on your feet like you expect, he instead keeps you in his arms as he opens the door, carrying you down to his room instead of to the meeting. He sets you down on the edge of his bed and gestures to your shirt as he grabs the first aid kit and another one of his shirts, laying them both beside you on the bed.

You move your hand up to hold your neck, just so your arm could be out of the way as he cleaned you up and rebandaged you. “Hey what’s that?” You ask, your voice quiet. “What?” His eyes look to you before following your eyes to the corner of his room, landing on a brand new guitar. “Oh. That was your surprise that I forgot to give you since we were in the hospital” you gasp “you got me a guitar?” You whisper and finishes placing the tape on the bandage before pulling back and looking in your eyes “I wanted to hear you play it” you smile and cup his cheek “so it’s just purely selfish reasons why you got me a gift?” You tease and he chuckles, his fingers resting softly on your side under your bandage. “My selfish desperation to make you smile” he whispers, worry and hope both fighting in his eyes.

He pulls back to shake out his folded shirt, holding it up for you to slip your arms into. You blush and look down and as you allow him to help you dress again, feeling safe and taken care of. “Thank you” you whisper as he finishes pulling it down, you look up into his eyes and hope he sees exactly what youre feeling. Safe, comforted, cared for, loved. Hope he saw how truly grateful you were to have him taking care of you. How much you wanted to kiss him properly. He tucks your hair behind your ear with a single nod, “you’re welcome. We should get to the meeting” you take his waiting hand and stand “can’t make the lieutenant be late” you say with a laugh and he sighs softly with a smile. He was terrified of how good you make him feel, but he couldn’t help but run headfirst towards that.

“Okay. So let’s go over the plan again. everyone excluding Hinawa, Y/n because her injury, and me, are heading to the Chinese peninsula in the morning. Hinawa and I will be leaving shortly after to stay in the First to complete our mission on finding more out about Amaterasu. We will all come back here in a week. While we’re gone,Y/n, you’re in charge here. Vulcan will walk you through the surveillance equipment and alarm systems. I will have coms on us where you can reach us if it’s an emergency or if there are any infernals.If there are any infernals call the seventh they are prepared to help. If anything else happens you call the coms we have and Hinawa and I will come running ” you nod and swallow, not looking forward to having a week alone in this giant place, but you had no other choice. You nod at him and he goes through more details that you tuned out, chewing your lip as you sit there worrying. Hinawa watching you from the corner of his eyes, seeing the load of worry on your face made acid rise to the back of his throat since he couldn’t comfort you here. His hands on his lap pick at his cuticles as he participates in the meeting.

You exit the meeting first, slowly making your way down to your bedroom, your side throbbing has become worse as your medication wears off. Hinawa watches you leave but he was to do a few more things before he has to make dinner so he couldn’t follow.

You sit on the edge of your bed and sigh softly as you stare at the edge of your water glass, a drop slowly making its way back to the bottom after your drink, the pill still slowly sliding your throat and sticking. You take a another drink

“Hey can I talk to you?” Maki says as she knocks against your open door. You look up and smile, forcing your worry back. “of course. Come in” you say and she nods nervously and sits across from you at your desk chair. “What’s up?” You ask and she sighs, looking at the floor by your feet as her words come out rushed “I’m sorry for ruining your moment with the Lieutenant on the roof I feel so bad” you let out a few shocked laughs and she looks at you with raised eyebrows “Don’t worry about it Maki! Seriously.” You smile and she relaxes a little, letting out a breath. “Plus, I don’t even know if we know what’s happening yet. It’s new. But uhh.. have you told anyone else?” She shakes her head “no I haven’t” (she has. She’s told everyone. You’re the news in the company) you laugh “good. I just. It could turn out to be nothing at all. So I’d appreciate if it stayed between us for now. Maybe I could talk to you again when you get back? I could use a good girls night. We should do that when you all get back!” You reach out and pat her knee as she beams excitedly “of course totally... And yes that would be so fun! I’ll let the other girls know!”

A knock to your door frame makes you look over and you smile when you see him “Do you think you help me in the kitchen for a moment y/n?” Hinawa asks and you nod “of course. I’ll be right there.” He nods and waits in the hall as you say goodbye to Maki.

“Are you okay?” He asks once you’re by his side, Maki going in the other direction. “I’ll be okay” you say and he reaches over, taking your hand and placing it on the inside of his bicep as you walk together. A small act that warmed your heart and comforted you, making your cheeks flush. “Are you okay?” You ask back, looking up at him with a small smile as he holds the kitchen door open for you. “I’m always okay with you by my side” he whispers into your ear as you pass and it sends goosebumps down your neck. “Cheesy” you say with a laugh as he grabs the aprons. Placing one on himself before putting an apron around your head, leaning close as he reaches under your arms to gently tie the strings behind you. “But seriously” you say, placing your hand on his chest.

He places his hand on yours and smiles softly with a sigh “I worry more about you” he says softly and you blush “I promise I’ll be okay” you whisper with a smile and he kisses your forehead before turning towards the ingredients he has laid out already. “Consider this the Princess giving the Prince a week off of worrying about her” you say with a chuckle as you begin to cut up vegetables.

He coughs once as he feels his face flush, he almost forgot about the story he told you. He’s glad you’re not looking at the way he knows his face is red. “I don’t think that’s possible for this Prince” he whispers after a moment and you laugh softly before leaning over and kissing his shoulder on the seam of his t-shirt.

You don’t talk for the rest of the cooking, you both knew you just wanted to be close to each other before you’d be apart. Neither of you could admit that yet though, not confident in the new feelings, not ready to cross that line fully, especially now that you have to be apart for a week.

You hummed for the most part, different songs you could think of, melodies that brought Hinawa a sense of calm as he cooked beside you. If he closed his eyes he could see the years that you might have together, and that terrified the hell out of him.

Dinner was filled with laughter and conversation like always. Your little found family always makes your heart warm. You soaked in as much as you could, holding on to it all so you didn’t get too lonely while you were alone for the coming week.

You shower that night, gingerly washing your wound and letting the warm water soothe you. You put on some cotton black shorts and slowly slipped on a black sports bra that zips up the front before leaving the bathroom and knocking on Hinawa’s door. “Come in” he says and you pop your head through, your towel around your hair wobbling a little “can you bandage me up?” You ask and he laughs before standing from his desk, his bag that he was packing half packed with more contents around it. “Of course”

You sit on his bed again, reaching up to unwrap your hair as he comes over with the stuff. you hold up your arm again and he quickly patches you up “you’re so gentle with me” you whisper as he covers you with a bandage. His hands pause for a moment, his cheeks flushing as he pulls back into a crouch to look into your eyes “always” he whispers then tucks your damp hair behind your ear.

“Do you want a shirt?” He asks and you blush and reach out, placing a hand on his chest, looking at your fingertips as they trace the neckline “can I … have this one?” You whisper, your heart beat hammering so loud you’re sure it’s audible to even him. He chuckles softly and goes to stand but you follow him, standing in front of him you place your hands on his waist, your thumbs reaching under his hem as your palms rest against his belt. You search his eyes to see if he objects to you taking his shirt off but you find none, he smiles, his cheeks dusting pink, and nods.

Your fingers slide softly up his sides, sending goosebumps across his chest and back, as you push his shirt up. You bite your lip as his chest and stomach become bare, a soft sigh passing your lips as you pull the shirt softly over his head.

He takes his shirt from your hands and places it over your head, helping you slip it over your arms, his hands stopping and squeezing gently on your hips. You lean forward and place your hands on his chest, leaning your cheek on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you.

“Can I … can I sleep in your bed while you’re gone?” You ask and he chuckles against you “I wish you would” he says and kisses the top of your head. You turn your head and place your lips softly against his skin over his heart. Your arms wrap around his waist under his arms as you hold him as close as you can get him, hoping he can feel how much you don’t want to be alone this next week.

You bury your face in his neck and it smells like hint of sweat and his cologne, smelled ultimately like Hinawa to you and you loved it. You took a deep breath and sighed against him. “I should shower. I probably smell” he mumbles against you and you chuckle “no. You don’t. But you should because it’s getting late.” You pull back and cup his cheek for a moment, smiling at the blush that touched his cheeks. He cups your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip slowly and gently, making your heart flutter before he drops his hand “I’ll be right back” he says and you nod, moving over to place your towel across the back of his chair as he moves to grab clean clothes.

“You know” Obi says as Hinawa walks into the bathroom “we could just take her with us” Hinawa sighs “we could, but objectively we need someone here” nothing else was said about that or about the fact that Hinawa didn’t deny he was worried about you, or that Obi could tell he cares for you.

Hinawas bed had tan sheets and a black comforter, it was soft and warm and when you crawled into it you sighed in relief at how nice it was. It was a million times more comfortable than your bed. You almost stayed under the covers but you remembered your surprise and you popped back up, ignoring the slight stabbing of pain in your side as you snatch it up and drop down to sit cross legged on the floor.

The strings felt familiar in your hands and the chords came back to your memory easily. Slowly picking out the song you used to play over and over when you were first learning. You hum through the first line as you try to remember the words. Stopping and restarting strumming when you remember them “Could've been one lonely night. Just like the others. But you lit up my life. This is what it's like to be lovers” He smiles outside of his door, the sound of guitar strings being plucked and you soft voice reaching his ears before he even opens the door.

“You and me need never be lonely again Spin with me endlessly or at least until the end Please never fall in love again Oh, please never fall in love again”When he opens his door he smiles at the sigh of you sitting in his room playing a soft song with a sweet smile. You stopped playing and looked up at him when he walked in “are you ready for bed?” You ask and he nods “you play and sing beautifully. I hope you’ll play for me when I get back” you blush and place a hand on your cheek shyly “of course” he takes the guitar from your hands and places it back on its stand before gently scooping you up into his arms as you laugh “sorry I forgot I shouldn’t sit in the ground” you whisper and he smiles “I don’t mind”

He places you in his bed and then crawls in behind you, pulling the blankets up to your shoulders as he claps his hands gently, his lamp turning off.

You wait for a moment, then burst into laughter, trying so hard to stop as your hand reaches over to cup your side as your whole body tensed to try and not die in the pain that’s shooting across your ribs but the pain and groans don’t stop the laughter

When you calm down you reach behind you to him and cup his cheek “you have a clapper?!” You say with a small chuckle “you’re a grandpa” he puts on a fake scowl but his blushing cheeks and the way his hand reaches to rest against your hip tells him a different story. “It’s efficient” is all he says as he moves his body to be pressed up against you, his head down by your shoulder. “Also. That was strike two” he whispers and kisses the side of your neck, sighing into you.

Your top foot moves back to rest between his calves, your hand moving to brush against his hand on your hip. His fingers start to draw small patterns against your skin, moving underneath your shirt. You sigh reaching up to cup his cheek and he moves his head closer, your fingers playing with his hair. “Hinawa” you whisper, “I wanna see you” he chuckles softly, brushing his lips softly across your neck before he moves gently, easily crawling over you and bringing the blankets up again before you pull yourself into his chest, wrapping one of your legs over his thigh as he moves his thigh between yours. “Yes” you whisper as you reach up, cupping his cheeks and his hand wraps around to rest against your back. “We should sleep” you mumble as you look into his eyes. “Yes” he agrees but doesn’t close his eyes, just starts tracing patterns against your back.

“Hinawa” you whisper and he hums in response. The feeling in your heart is heavy, but you can’t seem to find the right words. You love him. But your mouth can’t seem to form the syllables. You lean forward, your nose brushing against his and he sighs, the smell of minty mouthwash filling the air as your hand buries in the hair at the nape of his neck. You lean as far forward as you can, your lips almost touching as you look into his eyes, watching to see if he will kiss you or shut you down.

His hand moves up to cup your cheek and you whimper softly, a sound he barely heard but once he did he was smashing his lips to yours.

His hand moves to bury in your hair as he presses his lips to yours hungrily, a soft moan escaping when he licks your bottom lip. You melt into him as he holds your head gently, his thumb softly moving back and forth as his tongue slowly massages yours. He grunts softly when you bite his bottom lip, your hand moving to grip his shoulder as he sucks on your tongue gently before biting your lip and pulling back before pressing his lips against yours again again and again chucking when your tongue fights against his, wrapping around his as you sucked softly, your thighs tightening around his thigh making him moan softly against your mouth. This line, the line that you have been dancing around for days, the unspoken feelings that were obvious to everyone. God it feels so good to finally be across that line.

Your kisses were both desperate and needy, when you pulled away he pressed his forehead against yours, both panting with your eyes closed. Your hand had rested against his neck, your other had been pressed against his chest this whole time. His hand was under your shirt, flat against your back and drawing small patterns against your skin.

His hand slides down your spine and you clench your legs together, a soft whimper leaving your lips making him chuckle. “We should go to sleep, have to get up early” he says, so serious you pull back and search his eyes for a moment, the small teasing smirk on his lips as he looks at your shocked expression and you laugh, rolling your eyes “alright alright, if you want to ruin the moment” You say trying to scooch away but he laughs, holding you close to him. “I don’t want to ruin the moment. Not at all. But you need to heal up. I don’t want to hurt you” he whispers and you still in his arms. “You’re so responsible” you whisper in a teasing tone against his chest and he laughs “I L-“ he stops, the words getting caught in his throat. He almost said it. Almost just told you he loved you. And it felt so easy. So simple. So perfect and right. You pulled back and looked up into his shocked eyes “are you okay?” You ask and brush your fingers against his cheek. “Yeah I’m fine. Sorry. I don’t know what I was saying.” You lean up, softly pressing your lips to his for a moment before sighing and cuddling in to him. “It’s okay” you whisper as you reach up, holding the back of his head as you play with his hair. It was such a small act that brought him so much comfort he never even realized he could experience. His eyes burned with tears as he cradled you close to him. He should just tell you. But he can’t make his mouth say the words.

“Is it stupid that I’m going to miss you?” You whisper and he chuckles “no. No it’s not” he says and sighs “I promise, I’m going to miss you” he whispered back and you held him a little tighter “good. That makes me happy” he laughs and yawns “you make me happy” he says, the honest truth. As close to confessing as he can bring himself in this moment. You kiss his neck “you make me happy” you whisper as you moved his shirt, sucking on his collarbone and biting a little. Leaving a little mark you hoped would last him a week, hoped it would remind him of you. “So you don't forget me” you whisper with a soft half laugh, your side still hurting from laughing at his clapper. He laughs and scoots down, nuzzling his face into your neck making you laugh with how it tickles before you slowly melt into a moan as he sucks a spot against your neck.

He kisses the tingling skin then kisses your cheek “I won’t forget you, kitten. It’s only a week” you grip his shoulder and then cup his cheek, pulling his face up so you could kiss him, hoping he felt the love you want to give him.

The sound of his alarm woke you and you groaned. “I take this as a physical attack” you say and he laughs, pressing the button and ending the beeping. He turns and kisses your lips softly, just a good morning peck because he couldn’t think of anything more normal. You sigh and hold him for a moment “you’ll be safe?” You whisper and he laughs softly “of course” you nod “good” he turns his face into your neck “you’ll be okay?” He asks and you chuckle, trying not to sound worried as you say “of course. I’m tough remember?” he laughs and pulls back, brushing your noses together.

He claps and his lamp turns on, making you chuckle again at the look he gives you, ignoring the pain you feel. He gets up and puts everything left on the desk in the bag and zips it up before grabbing his clothes. He turns to you “close your eyes” he smirks and you chuckle before groaning and covering your eyes with your hand. “No peeking” he adds with a chuckle and you laugh “awww” you tease and he laughs “okay fine. I guess you can peek” he says and you move your fingers, opening one eye and making eye contact through the gap as he pulls up his pants all the way, his biceps twitching as he buttoned and zipped making you bite your knuckle. “come back to bed please” you say breathlessly and he laughs, his heart squeezing in his chest as he looks at you, your hair messy from sleep, his shirt on your body, perfect. Breathtaking. “Be patient kitten. I don’t want to hurt you” he says with a gentle smile and you get up, walking over to him and kissing his chest. “I know. But do you.. do you feel the same?” You look up at him with your chin against his chest and he sighs with a laugh “you have no idea.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed as he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. You smile and run your fingers through his hair as a knock to his door signals ten minutes. You smile “I’ll see you down there Lieutenant” his heart squeezes in his chest. Tell her you fool. He thinks but he can’t. Fuck he loves you so much. He lets you walk to his door, watches as you wink when you close it behind you. Fuck he loves you.

He catches you by the door to the garage and pulls you into the side storage closet “cutting it a little close here Lieutenant” you whisper with a slight chuckle and he rolls his eyes before he brushes his lips against yours. Your heart beams as your skin tingles you both taste like minty toothpaste and you whimper against his lips when he pulls back. “Needy” he says and you frown and mumble “god you don’t know the half of it” against his lips. you watch his jaw tense as he swallows hard when he pulls back“Don’t hesitate to call if anything, ANYTHING, happens. We will come back. The mission is important but you are more so. Understand?” He says and you nod “yes sir. You protect yourself, protect Obi. Be smart like I know you are” he nods “anything for you” he says with another kiss and then he’s opening the closet door and exiting, then you’re watching them drive off and sighing into the silence. “Guess it’s just you and me HQ” you mumble as you close the door to the garage.

[aprils-arcadia]

Home

Member: Kihyun Genre: Angst Word Count: 2k Warnings: Mentions of death, grief; loss of father Summary: On the way to his father’s funeral, Kihyun’s son remebers the times they shared together. 

"And the rabbit ran around the tree and into the rabbit hole." Seojoon muttered to himself as he tried to tie his tie. 

The face that looked back at him in the mirror looked weary as if he had been through so much more than the young boy that was once taught this phrase. 

He had been eight years old when he was first forced to wear one of these for a party of his grandma. After throwing a tantrum that he wanted to do it by himself, that a man was supposed to be able to do this, his dad calmly sat him down and explained. 

"It's very simple, son" Kihyun spoke very softly, as he crouched down before the young boy. 

"Okay now hold them like this." Kihyun held one end of his tie shorter than the other. "The rabbit…" He wiggled the longer end of the tie "fled from the fox…around the tree… yes, exactly… and into… no. Into… the rabbit hole." 

The young boy giggled as he was finally able to get it right. It was crooked and odd-ended but he didn't care, it would be his pride for the rest of the day. 

"See, easy as that." Kihyun touched his forehead gently against the young boy's own and squeezed his shoulder. "We Yoo men can do anything. We just need to try hard enough."

Anything - That was exactly what Seojoon did. Much to his father’s dismay. Their motto had landed him in the hospital multiple times. Be it for a broken bone, as he tried to climb the garage and ultimately landed on his left arm. Be it for a flesh wound on his forehead as he ran full force into the coffee table trying to catch his older cousin. Or simply because he had nowhere else to go than the ER when he had a burned his wrist on the stove trying to make scrambled eggs at 2 a.m. in the morning.

The scar on his forehead was now covered with black hair and the burn on his hand only visible to those who knew where to look. He took one last look in the mirror and ruffled through his hair. It wouldn't make a difference what he did to it anyway. He wore a suit, his tie looked halfway decent, that would have to be enough for today. Nothing could conceal the bags under his eyes and his appearance wouldn't change a thing about how he felt anyway. 

Seojoon slowly walked through the hallway and down the stairs. The wall to his right was filled with dozens of pictures, all neatly arranged and in the same lean wooden frame. It had always been his dad's hobby and they seldomly went anywhere without his trusted camera, that now rested on a drawer in the living room. Kihyun had taken photos almost every time he got the chance. The wall next to the stairs was filled with pictures of the both of them in front of different houses or apartment buildings. 

They had moved around a lot when Seojoon was still young and it had never seemed to really bother him. He didn't mind seeing so many parts of the country or even spend a few months abroad. Unfortunately this changed the older he got. It became harder and harder every time. To leave his friends behind, or to decide to never even make them because soon enough he would have to leave again, and leave them behind. For the next months after moving they would still be in contact as always but it didn’t take long for those friendships to vanish into obscurity, each and every one of them.

Once he had started his junior year of high school in yet a different school, he couldn't stand it anymore. Moving was selfish of his dad, a sign that he didn't care for his only son and the word ‘anything’ increasingly shifted in meaning and became more dangerous, more destructive. Instead of going to school he spent his days in the parking lot of some grocery store or in one of his new friends’ basement. Nothing was of any value and everything could just f*ck off. That's how he lived those days. His peers introduced him to alcohol and it didn’t take long until it became a constant companion. The few times he spent at home were less than pleasant, usually he would come home late at night, if at all, and most of the conversations with his dad ended in them screaming at each other. By then he didn't even remember how his dad sounded when he wasn't angry. 

This went on until the night of Seojoon’s 17th birthday. He had been out with friends when things turned south, and landed him in a holding cell at the nearby police station. With no option left and his “friends” having ditched him before they were caught by the police as well, he was forced to call his dad to bail him out at 4 a.m. in the morning.

"Just get in the car." Kihyun said tirely but firm as they went out into the chilly night. The sky over the horizon was already coloured a pale orange and the birds had begun to slowly wake up.

"But I wanna at least explain what happened." Seojoon  said with a pleading look as he opened the passenger door.

"No. Not tonight." Kihyun started the engine and drove off in silence. 

Not a word. No angry shouting. No accusations. Nothing. 

Seojoon had become uneasy. He would rather get yelled at than sit here in complete silence, listening only to the low hum of the engine and the cars that went past. Not even the radio was turned on. Seojoon had nowhere else to go than his own mind, a place he'd liked to avoid lately. The silence forced him to think, to think about his actions, the way he behaved and most painfully about the hurt look on his father's face. They used to be close, so close, but the older Seojoon got the more they had drifted apart. He had entered a phase where no matter what his father did or said he couldn't have been right. Everytime Kihyun had tried to be there for his son Seojoon had shut him out. Not wanting to reveal anything of his personal life, not wanting to share anything or even think about the issues he had. They had become incompatible.

Seojoon passed the picture framed next to the doorway. A smiling teenage boy behind the wheel of an old and run-down car, the proud face of his father visible in the corner, barely in frame. He opened the front door and unlocked the same old car that stood in the driveway, looking even more run-down than in the photograph. He had gotten it for his birthday and with everything that happened the night before he had never seen it coming. Instead of the lecture, the endless shouting and the slamming of doors, he was greeted with a completely different scene. 

When he got downstairs to make himself a bowl of cereal for breakfast like he always did when his father had to work, he was welcomed by a different sight. His father was standing in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on their breakfast. 

"Good morning." Kihyun said softly, as if last night had never happened. "I took today off. I think we both need to talk and not just scream at each other." Kihyun added, it was audible in his voice that this wasn’t easy for him as well.

Seojoon sat down quietly not being able to comprehend what was going on. 

"Like really talk. I mean when was the last time we did that?" Kihyun spoke more to the pancakes than to his son. 

"I don't know." Seojoon replied without so much as opening his mouth. 

"See. When did we become this cliché of a single father and his teenaged rebel of a son. I don't like this. So I took today off." He turned around the freshly-made pancakes in hand and sat down on the other side of the table. "I know this probably isn't how you had envisioned your birthday to go but I hope you won't mind spending it with your old man after everything that happened."

"Yeah.” Seojoon said and dipped his pancake into the tiny bowl of melted chocolate to his right.

"Some things never change," said Kihyun softly and smiled gesturing towards the chocolate that was slowly dripping from the pancake. "Still a favorite, huh."

"I guess.” Seojoon said and finally some of the tension left his body. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean for this to happen."

"I know. Well I like to think I know.” He looked at his son with kind eyes, the ones that Seojoon hadn’t seen in the last months. “If you don't mind I'd like to go somewhere with you after breakfast. It's still your birthday and I do need to have a present, don’t I."

That's where the car came in. It was sort of a peace offering and a promise. The shabby old fiat was a part of a deal. Seojoon had to get things straight. He had to attend school again -regularly- and drinking was off limits until the end of his senior year. The car became a symbol for that promise and a way to finally get back on track. He would need to be responsible from now on. And it had worked. Disappointed by how his so-called friends had treated him and remorseful of how the last few months had gone, Seojoon had actively tried to make things right. He had taken good care of the car, as best as he could, and Kihyun and he started to regularly work on it together, in order to get it back into good shape. Their relationship had finally taken a turn for the better again. Sure they had fought and sure they had their differences but they spent time together whenever they could and generally enjoyed each other's company again. 

The drive was short and he knew it by heart, not having to pay much attention to where he was going. He’d parked his car sluggishly next to the curb. One wheel rested on the green grass instead of the road but he didn't bother correcting. 

Not today. 

A sea of black umbrellas awaited him, but he didn't bring one himself, instead the rain slowly seeped through his suit and a shiver ran through his body that he barely registered. He kept his head low, only offering a few polite smiles that didn't mean anything. To show that he was okay, that he was pulling through. But it was the complete opposite of that. After everything was over each and everyone slowly left the meadow. His uncle gave his shoulder a little squeeze and his cousin kissed him on the cheek gently. It must be hard for them too, he thought. But he knew that nothing, nothing in this world was comparable to how he was feeling right now. 

Grief isn't something you are ever prepared for. It just hits you like a truck when you least expect it. Seojoon tried his hardest to bottle everything up. Not give in to anything he was feeling. He tried to shut down, show no emotion but there was no way this would last and he knew it. Grief had caught up with him quickly, had surrounded him in the kitchen, where they used to make dinner together twice a week, had forced him to face reality when he had to pick out a suit for today, had brutally shown him the truth when he read the letters engraved in front of him.

He sunk to the ground in front of the stone that will have his father's name etched in until nature took over and maybe even longer. The rain dripped in large drops from the leaves above and onto the grass around him, not letting up a bit. Seojoon was completely lost. He didn't know what to do, How to go on in any meaningful way.

His home was never a place. His home had always been his dad. And now. Now his home was gone. It didn't matter where he would go in life he would never be able to come back home.

[eleanor-writes-stuff]

chemistry (my heart’s a city you’re out to destroy) - [IV/IV: EPILOGUE]

Kylo Ren - superhuman, mercenary, and the world’s most dangerous man – has recently resurfaced after a mysterious three-month disappearance.

Rey Niima, listicle writer by day and investigative reporter by night, is way too busy to worry about that. Seriously, she’s got a million things on her plate - she doesn’t have the time to think about anything else.

Especially now that news editor Benjamin Snoke has returned to the office and seems hell-bent on making her life… interesting.

At long last, the end.

Questions are answered, loose ends are tied up, and the road to recovery leads to a happily ever after.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 Also available on AO3. And hey, maybe check out my Twitter and Ko-fi? 

. . .

At the last intersection before Takodana Street, Rey reaches out to still Ben’s nervous tapping against the steering wheel.

It’s the third time in ten minutes that she’s had to do so, and he allows her to pull his hand off the wheel and into her lap with nothing more than a sheepish look from under his lashes.

“Babe, you need to relax. I can’t believe big bad Kylo Ren is this nervous about meeting a little old lady.” Neither of their smiles sour at the mention of his alter ego; after six months of difficult but frank conversations, they’ve finally reached a stage where everything is out in the open but also firmly in the past, something to laugh about now that the wounds have healed.

They’ve also reached the stage where she introduces him to the woman she considers her mother for all intents and purposes, and Rey’s spent the past week trying to assure her boyfriend that tonight’s dinner is going to be just fine. Judging by the way Ben’s fingers keep twitching in her grip, she’s not exactly done a good job.

“Little old lady makes her sound so harmless,” he mutters as the light turns green. “She raised you, Rey. You. There’s no way she’s a harmless little old lady.”

She could tease him for that, but Rey takes pity on him and decides to simply accept it as the compliment that it is. “Okay, fine, so maybe she’s not going to be some cute little grandma,” she concedes, quickly powering through the rest of her sentence before Ben can panic, “but I promise everything is going to be okay. She’s going to take one look at you and ask to keep you forever.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

In the face of everything they’ve been through, of all they’ve overcome to reach this moment, introducing Ben to Maz doesn’t seem like a big deal at all. When she tries to tell him as much though, the tapping just starts back up.

Rey sighs and stares out the window at the familiar surroundings leading to her childhood home, casting about for a distraction. There’s no shortage of shared memories and inside jokes for her to pick from, but one in particular causes a laugh to bubble past her lips unbidden.

“What?” Ben asks, sparing her a quick glance as his lips twitch in response to her laughter.

Rey shakes her head. “Nothing, just… Remember that first day at the office? I didn’t realize it then, but…” She thinks back to their very first meeting outside of his mask, to the wild look in his eyes when she bumped into him, and laughs again. “You were horrified to see me, weren’t you?”

“I could never be horrified by you,” he objects, too distracted and defensive to realize he’s turned onto her street and Maz’s house looms just down the road. “I was terrified, sure, but not horrified.”

“You say that as if there’s a difference,” Rey snorts as they reach the end of the street, only to find that there is, in fact, a difference.

She’s seen Ben terrified many, many times now – starting, of course, with the incident they’re talking about. But parked in front of her mother’s house, having arrived without noticing it and now being mere feet away from his worst nightmare – this is the first time she’s ever seen Ben horrified.

“Is it too late to turn around?” Ben asks even as she moves to release her seatbelt. “We could just tell her I got sick and we need to reschedule–”

The weathered front door swings wide open, and Ben tenses as Maz appears in the doorway.

“Too late,” Rey shrugs, and laughs as she leans forward to press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. “C’mon, it’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Ben is the first person she’s ever brought home, and in the days following Maz’s invitation to dinner Rey had expected to find herself just as nervous as he is about the whole thing. They’ve already discussed the future, already made plans to move in together, but this makes it all real somehow, feels like the first actual step towards that future. And maybe five months ago – or three, or even one – that would have unsettled her, but Rey knows now that everything is as it should be, that they’re finally ready for this.

So she calmly takes Ben’s hands and gives them a squeeze, and gets out of the car to introduce the two most important people in her life to each other with not a single hint of nerves.

“I’m home!” Rey calls out with a grin as she rushes towards Maz, careful not to slam her weight into the older, smaller woman as they meet in a tight hug.

“Always good to have you back,” her mother murmurs into her hair, and they share a quiet moment before Maz pulls back and peeks beyond her shoulder to greet the new arrival. “And you brought a snack! Come closer, Rey’s boyfriend. Let me get a good look at those eyes my daughter is so lost in–”

Ben has always worked best under pressure, and this is no exception. His nerves seem under control as he makes his way up the driveway to join them, and there’s even a smile on his face as he humors Maz and stoops down so that she can get her hands on his shoulders and her face all up in his business, one hand pushing her Coke-bottle glasses up her nose to get a better look at him.

Maz gasps and takes a step backwards, and Rey braces herself for the kind of horribly yet charmingly dirty comment only a little old lady can get away with. At least she’s warned Ben about this bit, so she doesn’t have to worry about him running for the hills when Maz inevitably comments on what good handholds his ears must be or how those lips were made for a higher purpose or–

“Ben Solo!” she croaks, one hand to her heart, and Rey swears she’s never seen her foster mother this genuinely taken aback in all the years they’ve known each other. Maz’s eyes glimmer with tears as she slowly steps closer, reaching forward to settle a hand on Ben’s shoulder once more as her other hand slowly cups his cheek and pushes his face this way and that.

Ben, meanwhile, appears to be completely frozen.

“It is you,” Maz whispers in awe as she finally completes her examination, allowing Ben to straighten up to his full height in a daze. “I would know those eyes anywhere.”

“What– How–”

Rey winds one arm around Ben’s middle when both his voice and his footing falter, planting her feet in the ground when he sags against her just the slightest bit. “Maz, are you saying… you know Ben?”

“Know him?” her mother scoffs, voice still thick with emotion as she ushers them into the house, Rey pulling Ben along as he shuffles after her. “I practically raised this boy. Broke my heart to lose you, second only to your parents I’d say.”

That snaps Ben out of it. “My parents? You know my parents?”

Maz closes the door behind them. “Oh, child,” she sighs, eyes soft and sad as she pats Ben’s arm. “Come. There is so much to talk about.”

. . .

Dinner is left untouched and forgotten in the kitchen as the three of them huddle close together in the living room, Rey offering Ben silent support and comfort as he and Maz fill in the gaps in each other’s stories to finally form a complete puzzle.

The story goes like this:

One of Ben’s first memories of Snoke is his supposed father droning on and on about his uniqueness, about how special his bloodline makes him. It’s how Ben had pieced together the truth about his adoption-slash-kidnapping in the first place, realizing sometime around the age of six that the man who poked and prodded at him with needles and strange liquids and odd contraptions all day long was not his real family.

The story goes like this:

A long time ago, a highly respected scientist by the name of Sheev Palpatine rose to prominence for his seminal work on gene editing, and his magnum opus was a test subject by the name of Anakin Skywalker, a man he had been experimenting on since infancy in order to create the ultimate human specimen.

The story goes like this:

The Knights of Ren weren’t always five. In fact, when Ben was twelve and finally satisfactory to his father, Snoke introduced him to fifteen new playmates who would be living with them from now on. Having known no one other than his father from the age of four, young Ben was ecstatic to finally have friends – friends who, he would realize in time, just weren’t the same as him. They couldn’t run as fast, couldn’t jump as high, couldn’t kick as far, couldn’t play as long – and eventually, the slowest, weakest ones just… disappeared. In time, though, the four who remained learned to keep up with him, after months and months of poking and prodding and strange liquids and odd contraptions. And so the Knights of Ren were born, with Kylo Ren – the strongest, fastest one – their natural leader.

The story goes like this:

Eventually, the ugly truth about Palpatine’s experiments came to light, and with it a dozen nameless children buried in shallow graves. Not everyone, Palpatine argued, was ready to become the best possible version of themselves. Not everyone, he said, was destined for greatness. The law had none of it, and Palpatine was thrown behind bars for the rest of his short life while Anakin went through every test known to mankind until he was finally allowed to walk free and live a normal life, complete with a wife, two kids, and a white picket fence. Until one day, the past reared its ugly head and broke something inside him – and that day ended with a dead couple, two orphaned children, and a dark secret never meant to be unearthed.

The story goes like this:

Secrets never stay buried for long.

. . .

When all of the pieces finally fall into place, when the last question has been answered and there is no more room left for doubt, Maz goes upstairs to call the Organa-Solos and urge them to make the one-hour drive over.

“I always knew,” Ben says, head in her lap as they lounge on Maz’s porch, his eyes glued to the stars while hers keep careful watch over him, “that I had a family once. But for some reason I never thought…”

Rey runs her fingers through his hair and allows him to gather his thoughts.

“All of the others, they had lives from before, lives they remembered and could go back to after Snoke,” he murmurs after a while. Rey already knows this, already grilled him about the other knights months ago, but she lets him speak anyway. “But this life is all I’ve ever known, all I can remember no matter how hard I try. I’ve been Ben Snoke for so long I couldn’t even remember Ben Solo. Rey, what if… what if…”

Ben turns to her then, looking more scared than he had the night everything came crashing down around them, and her heart aches for him, for what he’s going through, for the pain and fear and tiny spark of hope she knows all too well.

“You know, by the time Maz found me, the Organa-Solos had all but disappeared from this city.”

She keeps her hand in his hair even as her eyes stare blankly ahead, taking a minute to sort out her thoughts before she turns back to a puzzled Ben. “Growing up, everyone knew who they were. Your mother practically ran this city, and your father was nothing short of a legend. But one day she stepped down and he retired, and not long after that they just… disappeared.”

Rey lets that sink in for a moment, holds still as Ben finally rolls off her lap and pulls himself up into a seated position next to her.

“I was still so young then, I had no idea what was going on. Only that the pretty lady wasn’t on front pages anymore and I never saw the Falcon in another race on TV again. But that was five years after you disappeared, Ben. They tried for five years to find you, did everything they could to hold on, and eventually it just broke them. They gave up everything – their jobs, their home, their lives – because it was too painful without you. Because they love you.”

Ben is crying now and so is she, tears running down their cheeks as she reaches for his hands.

“And I think… I know everything is going to work out, Ben. Because they love you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember them, or if they don’t recognize you, or if things are awkward at first. They love you, and you’ll love them, and that’ll be enough until everything else works itself out.”

Because it would have been enough, for her and her parents, if they’d just loved her.

And it has been enough, for her and Ben, while they fix everything else.

So Rey knows, she knows, that when Han and Leia walk through the door in an hour’s time and Ben meets his parents for the first time in more than two decades, everything will be okay.

“How can you know that?” Ben whispers, hands holding hers so tightly it nearly hurts. “How can you be so sure everything will be okay?”

Rey leans forward, presses her forehead to his and waits until Ben closes his eyes to do the same. “Because you’ve already been through so much, baby. Because I know you can make it through anything. And because I’ll be right there with you, every step of the way.”

That, above all else, is what finally gets him to relax into her and release her hands in favor of wrapping his arms around her waist.

“We’ll face this together, I promise,” she murmurs against his lips, kisses him soft and slow until she can feel the beginnings of a smile on him. “You’ll make it through this, Superman.”

He laughs, a puff of air against her chin, and Rey pulls back to find that teasing smirk she’s come to adore.

“Oh, so now I’m Superman?” Ben huffs as he crosses his arms, bright eyes giving away the act.

Rey hums in mock contemplation. “I mean, you did turn out to be my awkward coworker secretly moonlighting as a superhero, so…” She shrugs, biting back a grin as Ben pulls her into his lap.

“And who does that make you, then?”

Underneath his playful smile, behind the brightness dancing in his eyes, there’s still a small, scared boy forever looking for reassurance, forever unsure about his place in this world. So Rey trades her grin for a soft smile and gently takes his face in her hands, stares deeply into his eyes until the right words come to her.

In all honesty, she’s had them ready for months.

“The woman who loves you no matter who you are – Superman or Clark Kent, Kylo Ren or Ben Snoke or Ben Solo.”

Awe washes away everything else on his face, leaving Ben with wide eyes and parted lips as he takes in her words. His breath hitches, he slowly blinks his eyes, and then finally, finally he gives her a brilliant smile for all of two seconds before she’s pulled into a kiss that says everything she needs to know.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Ben whispers between kisses, holding her so close she swears she can feel the beating of his heart. “Always have, always will.”

The front door opens, and Maz says something about light traffic at this time of day and another forty minutes at most and–

Rey presses her palm to Ben’s heart, the heart she’s known from the very start even when nothing else was certain, and knows that together they can face anything.

. . .

And that's that, friends. After almost exactly three months - just two days shy, in fact - this story has finally come to an end. I can only hope it was a satisfying one for both characters and readers, and worth all the time and emotion you've so generously invested.

To @nancylovesreylo, I hope this satisfied you above all. I've come to love this Rey and Ben so dearly, but I know this story would never have existed without you. Thank you for this amazing prompt, and for everything else you do for this fandom. I could spend years trying to write a birthday fic worthy of you, but I hope this came somewhat close to that at least.

Once again, thank you to everyone for waiting even when all hope seemed lost, and for giving this odd little fic a chance in the first place. I hope you've enjoyed this, and as always please don't hesitate to like/reblog/comment. Until next time, friends!

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

The 7 Times Eraserhead And Present Mic Became Parents

Summary: The seven times Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi became dads.

Pairings: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present

Warnings: Runaways,  Child Abandonment, Mentions of Past Child Abuse, Mentions of Past Trauma, Adoption, Bullying Mentions Toward The End, Mentions Of Forced Quirk Suppression Toward The End, Lethal Doses Of Fluff But Also Angst

Crossposted on ao3

Chapter 2: Shoto and Touya

Eraserhead heard it before Present Mic. The soft crying. But, of course he did. In the second year, during their intense Quirk training, Hizashi had lost his hearing from his own voice, while Shouta had slowly, second by second, extended the amount of time he could keep his eyes open and his Quirk activated. But, that still, nonetheless, didn't help Aizawa figure out what the hell that sound was being made from. Little five year old Hitoshi was sleeping at his Grandma Sakura's house tonight while they were on night patrol.

He signed to follow to his fiance as he went down to the place the sound was coming from. He found two boys no older than Hitoshi, both with half and half hair, one split with red on the right and white on the left and one with white in the front and red in the back. One's eyes were greyish turquoise and faintly looked like icy embers burned in them, but the other had a grey left eye while the other was closed and covered in dark red and purple, raw burns that looked very recent, maybe even done earlier that day. Icey blue eyes looked up at him with the widest look of fear he'd seen.

"Don't hurt us." The other boy sniffled while the other begged. He nearly gagged seeing the boy without the burn on his face had burns at least three-fourths of the way up his forearms before tapering at his elbows in uneven patches.

"We won't. Why are you boys out here?" Shouta asked them, crouching to their level.

"We ran away." The grey eyed one told him.

"Eraser, we need to bring them to a hospital. Those burns look bad." Hizashi reminded him.

'I know.' He signed.

"Please don't bring us back to them? Please? Sis said to run so we did." The one with burned hands pleaded. Shouta pulled out bandages and a water bottle. It wasn't much but it would keep their burns clean until they got them to a hospital.

"We won't, I promise. I need to clean your arms and your eye. It may hurt a bit. Do you boys think you can be brave for me?" He recieved a nod and a meek 'okay'.

Mic moved to sit down with the two, holding them close and still. He began with the one who had spoken first, the one with burns on his hands and arms. He began to pour water over them, from the tapering blotchy ends on his upper forearms down to his fingertips, his hands holding the boy's elbows when he did it. Instead of rubbing them and irritating them more, he just let them air dry while he wrapped them in bandages. The boy was hiccupping and squirming a bit but Hizashi hugged him and calmed him.

"What's your name?" Yamada attempted to distract him.

"T-Touya." He sniffled again, seemingly trying to stop crying.

"Okay, Touya. You're all done. Now for your brother." Aizawa told him.

"Shoto, my name is Shoto." He meekly whispered.

"Okay, Shoto. Are your gonna be brave like Touya and let me clean your burn?" Shoto nodded, sitting with his head tilted back so he can pour the water over his left eye and clean it, wrapping bandages around his head to guard his eye from anything that could touch it.

"Okay little listeners, let's get you two to the hospital and get these burns to stop hurt as much." Mic assured them, picking up Shoto while Aizawa gently picked up Touya, still giving him enough space for his arms not touch too many things that could hurt him. Aizawa began talking first, leading Yamada with Shoto to the hospital while he carried Touya. The visit was relatively easy given the hospital closest to them thankfully had a doctor with a healing Quirk on staff.

"You did good cleaning off the burns but I'm afraid there's going to be permanent scars for both of them from how severe the burns were, given they were third degree on both twins. But they should heal just fine. Don't hesitate to come back if something happens. They'll both have antibiotic ointments for a week so there's no infections during the healing process. And both have pain medication perscriptions under your last names. Make sure that Touya has physical therapy to get his hands back to working order. Unfortunately, Shoto's eye had a lot of damage to it. He'll likely will have very bad vision loss and ultimately become blind in his left eye after some time, so he'll probably need a service dog sometime in the future but for now he should be fine, though he won't have depth perception so he'll need some help with that."

"Thank you." Aizawa told the doctor while Mic played with the twins. Then they took them to the police station where they refused to give their last name, but would tell them everything else truthfully.

In the end, they wound up filling out temporary custody paperwork. But they ended up getting attached, as did Hitoshi. Hitoshi finally had boys his age to play with and he looked so happy when they ended up filing the paperwork for the adoptions of two runaways. Not two months after they found them, Shoto and Touya were their sons as well. Touya was a shy, meek boy, often prone to running from conflict and hiding behind a very protective and angry Hitoshi. Shoto tended to come off more uncaring and cold but he cared a lot, easily very excitable and often nervous.

Preschool started with no problems, needless to say. The three were inseperable even though they were newly siblings. During this year, Hitoshi finally developed his Quirk after yelling at a bully picking on Touya for being 'a sissy'. Brainwashing. Aizawa and Yamada couldn't be prouder that their first son had such a unique Quirk, but that did nothing to stop the bullying and horrible teachers. This, of course, led to Shoto and Touya showing off their Quirks, Ice and Fire and Snow and Smoke. Shoto with ice generation on his right side and fire generation on his left and Touya, who could apparently could generate snow and smoke from his front and back respectively.

They had shown off these skills when a teacher put a muzzle on Hitoshi to keep him from using his Quirk. Touya had panicked and filled the room with snow and smoke while Shoto had gotten angry and he had lit several pieces of paper on fire and promptly froze them. But it did get all three of them thrown out of that preschool, but that was fine. They did well at the next one, thankfully. The teachers were very caring of their sons and that was all they asked.

[rent-day-blues]

Rent Day Blues

2

[previous]

If Alan heard the phrase, "Life isn't fair," one more time, he was going to scream.

In his experience, life sucked, and he was fully aware of the fact. He didn't need to be told it, time and time again. It wasn't going to make anything better, and it sure as hell wasn't going to make him okay with what was going on. All it did was make him angrier.

No shit life isn't fair.

He checked his watch as he ducked into the garage he'd started hanging around months before. There was only one thing he really had any skill at, and it was racing. Once upon a time, he'd dreamed of being the fastest racer in the circuit, but he wasn't a little kid anymore. Besides, he didn't race for the fun of it.

It was hard to explain, but behind the wheel of a good car was when he really felt alive. When the world started to make sense, where he could leave his anger behind and not have to think about anything. He didn't have to remember that his dad had just vanished on them, or that Grandma was really sick, or that his brothers were all going to be pissed when he got home. He didn't have to feel guilty. Nothing could touch him.

And he was good at it. Really good. As in he had a reputation now as one of the best in the area. As in some of the regulars now bet on him. He'd earned his keep.

"You're late," the garage owner called as he walked into the room, pulling on his gloves.

"Sorry," Alan muttered. He didn't bother with an excuse. This wasn't the kind of place you brought up your home life. And how was he supposed to explain that he hadn't left until his brother had made it home because his grandma couldn't be alone?

"Got a big one tonight," the owner said, tossing a set of keys at Alan. Alan caught them, inspecting them.

He didn't know the garage owner's real name; it didn't seem like anyone did. Everyone in the circuit just called him the Mechanic. He'd taken a chance on Alan one day when he'd been racing his brothers' car, and now Alan was his number one driver. In exchange, Alan didn't ask questions, and won races. That was all that was expected. Simple.

"Aren't they all big?"Alan asked as he pulled on his jacket. The Mechanic didn't laugh. He never did. It was a little unnerving.

He took his red helmet off of the stand it stayed on and held it under his arm as he headed to the car for the night. Alan got to play with all sorts of different cars, all of them as amazing as the last, but his favorite was the one he'd first raced in, a Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat, souped up, modified, and gorgeous. She was as red as his helmet and as smooth a ride as he'd ever had. He didn't care what anyone else thought about her; his record with her spoke for itself.

"Don't lose tonight, kid," the Mechanic said. "We've got some big numbers on this one. You'll get a sizeable cut."

Alan nodded as he climbed in. His cut went towards buying the car he was currently getting situated in. He was nowhere near getting it, but it wasn't like he could take the money he made home. Scott was a cop, and his grandma would never accept it. They couldn't even know about the racing. They'd kill him.

He pulled up at the usual spot, taking his place in the line before opening his window to acknowledge the starter. He closed his eyes, pushing away all of his irritation and guilt and focusing just on the race.

After that, it was just as simple as hitting the gas.

Street racing had rules, despite popular belief. They were mostly common sense: don't race on busy streets, don't have passengers, don't play dirty, don't race in an area you don't know. Alan knew this area very well. He'd made it his business to know every inch of every possible route. It was part of his secret of success.

There was a curve at one point, and it was a nasty thing, sharp and with a ditch just off of it. Alan had seen one guy go spinning off of it (he hadn't been the best driver, not nearly careful enough in his turns and in a car he didn't know how to handle). He'd survived with only his ego taking a blow, but Alan lived with four emergency workers. He knew - albeit through secondhand accounts - how nasty car accidents were. And ultimately he knew that even the glory of winning wasn't worth doing something as stupid as taking the curve too fast.

Unfortunately, that night, he seemed to be the only one who knew that. And even more unfortunately, he missed the inside. So, when the inside guy's tires started to lose their grip on the road, Alan was the one he spun into, hitting Alan's front right side with his back left. And Alan was the one who lost control of his car.

Alan had just enough time to think, Oh, shit, this is gonna hurt. Then, nothing.

None of the others seem to understand why he goes out looking for Alan.

It's not because he expects to find out where he is. It's because he's trying to learn to predict where the damn kid's gonna go. And he's getting better. He's gradually narrowing down a list of his little brother's favourite haunts; knows which of them are okay, which of them are kinda sketchy, which one his little brother needs to have his ass hauled out of. He usually tags Gordon in for this duty, if he's available, and John if he's not. If neither of them are around, then he let's Alan slide.

Scott should be able to figure it out, being a cop and all, but then, Scott refuses to go out for detective. He says it's because he likes patrol work, likes being on the front line. Virgil suspects it's got more to do with the requirement for a degree. Once upon a time that wouldn't have stopped him.

Half the time Virgil goes out, he does find Alan. Alan will be in an empty lot, skateboarding with a handful of kids he knows from school. Or Alan will be tagging meaningless graffiti in a back alley somewhere. Or Alan will have gotten on a bus and headed downtown, and Virgil will just need to wait until the same bus brings him back again, eventually.

It's the half the time Virgil can't account for him that's starting to be concerning. Because Virgil's starting to piece together a sense of structure, around the times when his little brother takes off. There's a pattern. It's a pattern designed to look like randomness, but there's a shape to the negative space around the times he can't find his brother.

He's pretty sure it's got to do with the reasons his brother goes downtown.

Well.

He's finally got the time to find out.

So when Alan's favourite bus pulls up to the bus stop, this time, Virgil gets on. He nods to the driver and drops the fare in, and looks up with a smile he's been told is charming. He holds up his phone, hopes the crack in the screen doesn't obscure his brother's face too badly, and gets straight to the point, "Hey. This is my brother. He on this route often?"

The scoff and the eyeroll are as good as a yes, and Virgil winces. "Yeah. Sorry if he's—"

He's cut off with a grunt from the driver and the doors pull shut behind him. The older man gives him an appraising once over, challenging. "You gonna rope that kid in?"

Virgil shrugs, slips his hands into the pocket of his jacket. "If I can find him, yeah."

A nod. "Sit up front. I'll let you know where he usually gets off."

"Thanks, man."

Another grunt and the bus's hydraulics hiss and lurch as the bus rolls away from the curb. Virgil drops his phone into his pocket and takes a seat up front.

"We've got to stop meeting like this."

Scott rolled his eyes, clutching his paper cup like a lifeline as Gordon picked his way across the debris-strewn road towards him. "You got here quick."

Gordon shrugged. He had a speck of blood on his sleeve, but otherwise it was hard to tell he'd been on call all evening. "Tiny little spray of rain, and every idiot in a V8 takes a header into a ditch. Was on my way back to base when I got the call. So," he asked, eyes scanning the scene. "What have we got?"

"Kayo's liaising with the fire service now," Scott said, draining his coffee and crumpling the cup. "Bunch of guys street racing. High end stuff," he added, tapping a hubcap with his boot. "From what we can get out of the few bystanders we caught, the guy on the inside lost it and wiped out the rest of his cluster. We've got a bunch of drivers trapped, no idea if there's anyone seriously wounded, but from the swearing I'd say that at least the ones we've found are more concussions and bruises than anything."

Gordon was already getting gloved up. "Concussion ain't nothing to joke about, Scotty." He grinned up at his brother, too bright in the dark night. "You should know, brother." He rose as Scott chuckled darkly. "Point me at the victims. The other wagon was across town, they won't be here for at least another fifteen, even with full sound and light."

A yell further down the slope caught their attention, and they fell into step towards the hubbub without another word. "Got someone for me, Miss Kayo?"

Kayo rolled her eyes, unaffected. "A few managed to climb out once we broke the windows, but they're all declining treatment." Gordon made a face; Scott knew how it irritated his brother that people, hurting or in pain, were still thinking more about their insurance, or lack thereof, than their health. "Scott, these are some high end rides with a bunch of punks and street kids behind the wheel. Something's not right here."

Scott frowned, brow furrowing. "Well, then, probie. Go follow your nose."

Kayo's eyes widened almost imperceptible, but she nodded and headed off back up the slope. Gordon watched her go. "I like her."

Scott ignored the subtle hook. "Come on, let's find you a willing patient. Hate to have rolled you away from your midnight coffee for no good reason."

Gordon let out a low whistle when he saw the vehicle the fire crew was working on. "Would you look at that baby. Cherry red means she goes faster," he added as an aside.

"Fast enough to leave one hell of a dent," Scott replied seriously, playing his torch along the gouge the crashing car had carved into the landscape.

The now-familiar sound of the hydraulic jack was followed moments later by the door popping. "Welp," Gordon said, tugging on the strap of his kit. "They're playing my song."

He nodded his thanks to the fire crew, already heading off to continue stabilizing and cracking the wrecks as Gordon knelt down next to the now-open drivers seat. "Evening there, I'm Gordon. Can you tell me your---?" the words died on his lips as Gordon's torch played over the blood-smeared face of his baby brother.

She only knows them because they live one floor up from her apartment. 501 to her 401.

The first encounter she had with the Tracys was with the fourth of them, because he'd come home at four in the morning, and the lock on her front door had been broken.

She'd woken to the sound of someone stumbling through her front room, and her hand had fumbled by her bedside for the baseball bat, leaning against the filing cabinet she'd found by the curb, pulling double duty as a dresser, and tripe duty as a bedside table.

There'd been a tremendous crash of someone tripping over her coffee table—well, rather, her piece of plywood and lopsided collection of cinderblocks—and she'd suddenly been infuriated by the sheer nerve of anyone who'd try to break in and rob her of what little she had.

So she'd climbed off her sagging futon, hoisted her baseball bat, and kicked open her bedroom door.

It'd been the uniform that had spared him immediately having his head bashed in, the uniform that had given her pause.

Certainly it had been nothing to do with the way he'd been startlingly handsome, all blond and bewildered and sprawled out on the cracked linoleum, when she'd managed to fumble the light switch on and demand to know what the hell he was doing.

It had turned out to be a perfectly understandable mix-up. One floor off. Broken lock. Four in the morning, and him just coming off a double shift. He'd even been decent enough not to mention the fact that she was only in her underwear and a t-shirt and had accepted a hand up to his feet, sheepish and shy.

The next morning there'd been a knock on her door, and brother number three had turned up, toolbox and a brand new lock in hand, and with a few choice comments to make about the landlord. She'd made him tea (lacking much else, Penelope at least always has tea) and they'd chatted politely, and she'd met her first neighbour. He'd introduced himself as Virgil and mentioned that his younger brother was Gordon, and she'd told him her name was Penny.

By the time he'd gotten done, her door had a new lock, her leaking sink had been tightened up, and the spider that lived in her bathtub had been relocated. And Penelope had finally made friends with her neighbours, all five of them, plus their grandmother.

And sometimes Penelope will catch a ride to work with John, or sometimes there's a lightbulb that needs changing and she's too short to change it herself, so Scott will stick his head in. And sometimes she'll order a pizza and split it with whoever happens to be home when she does. Sometimes she'll just come and sit with their grandmother, missing the company of another woman, in this big strange city where she's so obviously out of place.

It's brother number two who's knocking on her door this time, though at an hour of the evening when it's usually Gordon she's expecting. Gordon gets home late. And Gordon doesn't knock. Gordon has her spare key. Gordon talks in his sleep and half the time he's too tired for any of the reasons she likes to have him over in the first place, but Penelope's beginning to wonder if it's not just falling asleep beside him that she might like best.

But it's not Gordon, because Gordon's working. So it's John.

And when she opens the door, his eyes are bright and his hands are shaking and Penny's not sure if she's ever seen him so badly scared.

So of course she says yes when he asks if she could possibly come and sit with his grandmother. It's just the neighbourly thing to do.

Originally, Kayo had joined the force to make a name for herself. Or, more accurately, to redefine what her name meant. She needed to show everyone, herself included, that she was nothing like her uncle and never would be. And she'd needed a way to shut up the cruel little voice in the back of her head that sounded exactly like her uncle, mocking her every move.

Despite that, she loved it. And she'd been pleasantly surprised by her partner. Sure, she'd had to prove herself, but Scott Tracy was a good man. He treated her with respect and unlike so many people in her life, never talked down to her or treated her like she was lesser than him. He was a little reckless sometimes, a little distracted others, but he was a good teacher and a great partner, and Kayo was appreciative.

He was also extraordinarily easy to read. Which was why, when she came back to let him know what she'd found, she immediately knew something was wrong.

He was wide-eyed and pale, staring at the back of the ambulance she knew his little brother drove. Kayo had a bad feeling about this.

"Scott?" she said, ignoring formalities. If he had a problem with it, he'd let her know.

"Huh?" Scott said, not looking at her. He only barely seemed to register her presence.

Kayo glanced at the car he was still standing next to, then at the ambulance. "What happened?"

Something had to have happened. Because she'd seen Scott handle horrible scenes before, and nothing had ever shaken him like this. There had been times when he was exhausted and they came up on a crash or a fight and he'd been a little quiet and tense, but never this bad. Not once.

"What?"Scott said, and he finally looked at her. And when he met her eyes, Kayo could see the truth.

Scott Tracy was scared.

"What happened?"she asked, aware that he was superior and that the tone she was using was possibly inappropriate to be directing at him. But he wasn't acting like her superior and Kayo didn't know what to do.

Scott turned his gaze back to the ambulance, its lights flashing. It started to pull away, the sirens turning on, and somehow he seemed to pale even more.

"My little brother," he said. "Alan."

The youngest, she reminded herself. Sixteen, rebellious, reckless. The one time she'd met him, he'd seemed distant.

Scott insisted he was a good kid. Kayo was pretty sure he was biased.

Then she realized what he was saying. She felt her stomach drop.

"He was here?"

Scott nodded, still watching the ambulance. "He was...he looked pretty bad."

Kayo didn't know what to say. The usual things they said to families wouldn't work here, not when Scott knew exactly what she wasn't saying. They didn't know how it would turn out, they would do their best, they wouldn't make promises because some things were out of their control. Scott knew all that. And Kayo didn't have any family to compare the way he was feeling to.

So she did what she always did, and barreled on ahead.

"I found something," she said.

Scott tore his eyes away from the ambulance, as lights and sirens came on, the vehicle pulled away from the scene and out of their sight. "And?"

"You're not gonna like it."

[next]

[cosmosogler]

hi guys.

today i got up reallllllllly late just because i didn’t see a reason to get up earlier. i watched a whole lotta youtube! i made some great mac and cheese for brunch. i looked at clouds out the window and saw that basically all my neighbors have their windows covered. maybe they left town for the holiday. i goofed around with snoopy and dug through my clothes to look for some light jackets and my other jeans. i did find another pair! i could do with one more but i have plenty of other pants i can wear. 

i’m just really into the blue jeans. you know how it is.

blue jeans with a red coat. that’s been My Look for a few years. yes.

i’m not SAYING barry bluejeans is the best, but you can clearly see the evidence.

anyway goofing aside i guess i spent the day being very chill and quiet. i don’t know if it was deliberately “self care” or anything like that but i did feel very lethargic. when oz got home from work we called and i found a nice upload of ferngully to watch. i liked it when i got to say “time for another musical number” every ten minutes. we didn’t realize until 40 minutes into the movie that the image was flipped. we ended up making a couple of nostalgia critic references and that was fun too.

after that we just caught up for a while. it was nice. i feel like i’m forgetting what it’s like to have known someone for years and years and i forget that some people have also known ME for years and years now. oz, some of my followers... classmates on facebook, even though i don’t talk to them regularly. it’s bizarre, almost. that i existed before coming here i guess. 

i know!! like wow, right???

the way i worded it to oz was that i have lost a lot of people that were very important to me this last year. it might just be easier to have kind of hazy distant memories. at least right now. i don’t have time to get upset about it. 

i mean, i am still upset about it, but i also recognize that i do not have time to be upset about it.

although mostly i just think my thinking is muddled right now because i’m sick and stuffy and my brain always finds that unacceptable. it’s like being sick pushes out any room or capability i might normally have for thinking about anything at all.

i’m still not really... feeling the absence of my grandma pearl in my life right now. it took a long time for it to settle in that my grandpa al had died previously. it just comes to me in little bits and pieces. “oh. i’m never going to get a letter from pearl again.” “ah yes, the picture of my grandma and grandpa. i love them. they are good. oh. they were good.”

considering that i lived with my dogs and saw them every day and it took me basically a year for it to register that jake and randi were dead and i could have spent more time with them and i didn’t... this isn’t too surprising i guess.

i mean i knew it before that. i saw randi’s body a few hours after the last time i had scratched her behind the ear. i let them take jake into the back of the vet’s office. it’s not that i didn’t know and it’s not that i wasn’t hurting. but to feel all of it at once it took a year.

it still hurts though haha.

anyway after i hung up with oz i swept the floor and cleaned the toilet one more time. i need to do something about that. maybe later. i’ll see about getting the right kind of cleaner for the pipes while mother is here.

then mom and my brother were here. i let them into my apartment and showed my brother around. 

“i like the single danimals in your fridge,” my brother said.

“yes,” i replied. “he keeps me company. and the skeleton.” i pointed at the wooden skeleton over the keyboard. mom sighed because it’s like the only thing i have hung on the wall. the other thing i have hung up on the wall is a light-up plaque that reads “The Struggle Is Real” in cursive over my kitchen table.

at dinner i got my brother to laugh pretty hard just by giving him a Look when mom placed her peppers on an extra plate. it felt good to have that level of communication. 

the joke is that one time at mexican food we both tried to eat those yellow peppers at the same time and both died on the spot.

mom did a few annoying things. she complained to me about how fat some of the people on the plane were. she also told a story about how unacceptable it was that a guy who was offered as many snacks as he wanted had taken a bunch of them during their extremely long flight across the country. my brother was also a little confused by that one.

i managed to patiently suffer through a short story about how dad is doing after his surgery. i even winced when she talked about how many places his jaw got broken in.

actually that was only partially on purpose. it does genuinely sound unpleasant to have the roof of your mouth cracked open and even the idea of the sensation is grossing me out.

i mostly wanted news on the dogs. genevieve is very upset that the whole family goes upstairs without her. my brother said she goes upstairs sometimes but i remember the few tumbles she took while i was still at home and they did not look like they felt very good at all. rug burn on an open wound is just not a good time. i don’t blame her for being reluctant to keep trying even now that her incision is all healed up. her fur’s probably grown back in by now too.

she likes to tease wiley. she’s allowed to carry around shoes and he isn’t (he chews and has chewed up all her favorite toys) so she’ll rub them in his face. apparently now she also likes to pick up one of wiley’s tennis balls, carry it around until he takes it from her, and then pick up another toy. when wiley realizes she is carrying a new toy he drops the old one to take that from her. so then she grabs the first toy and goes to hide while he’s distracted. you can get him to play fetch that way too, as long as you got two balls to throw.

diogi’s apparently doing ok. she’s still romping around the backyard even though her back half doesn’t work at all.

my and my brother’s conversations move extremely quickly. it’s like trying to keep track of a tennis match between particle accelerators. mom had no idea what we were talking about when we got about two sentences in.

mom dropped me off back at home and then i spent the evening watching more youtube videos. i also sent a message to a person whose meta i’ve been reading for like two years.......... i am very shy and this week i’ve been very muddled but she responded very positively so i might try again when i feel a little better. 

i was going to say “i don’t know when i got so shy” but it feels like i’ve always been like this. when i get thrown into a new school with a completely new community i’m forced to meet people. it’s a necessity. but seeking people out myself is like... what??? why would i EVER do that???????

i can’t even FOLLOW people i really respect in case they see my username and check out my blog. the idea is stressing me out.

anyway it’s 10:52 now, which is about when i started writing my entry yesterday, so i guess i’m making good time. i gotta get up at 7 tomorrow morning because mother wants to leave at 8 am for sea world. i’m not really sure what the day is going to look like- i know that there’s not a whole lot of vegetarian options at theme parks as far as food goes. my stamina is a lot better since i started biking basically every day so hopefully walking for a bunch of hours will be fine. i’ll bring the sudafed to try to keep my air ways clear.

i’m not going to get enough sleep tonight but maybe i can catch a few zs during the car trip.

i saw a thing about treasure planet and now i’m listening to “i’m still here” again and i’m bummed haha. 

something good today was that i, sort of, reconnected with people i guess? i talked to oz for a good long time. i sent a message to the new person. i had a good time with my brother. i sent a facebook message to an old classmate who’s messaged me a few times in the last year and i figured i should probably message him for once.

i do really want to go on a sailing space adventure again now though. and prove myself with nothing but determination to a roguish but ultimately goodhearted swashbuckler who might appreciate me the way none of my parents ever did. yes. good.

[cheapest-usps-eddm]

The sparkling, ocean-facing mansions in sun soaked Monterey, California are far from the worlds we inhabit, until you scratch its dazzling surface to expose trauma, ambitions, and guilt, uncomfortably slithering too close to our nine-to-five homes.

Nicole Kidman, Reese Witherspoon and Shailene Woodley in Big Little Lies Season 1

HBO’s Big Little Lies, starring a stellar line-up of Reese Witherspoon, Nicole Kidman, Shailene Woodley, Laura Dern and Zoe Kravitz (whew!) is on its way to a second season (with the delightful addition of Meryl Streep in a pivotal character) on 9 June. Besides being a sharply executed whodunit — a rarity in the genre over the past decade — the show, at its core, is as much about collective healing among women, as it is about their shared trauma. In the first episode of season one, when Madelaine Martha Mackenzie (Reese Witherspoon) takes the timid newbie Jane Chapman (Shailene Woodley) under her wing, she lays her cards on the table even before the latter and the audience can think of passing a judgement on her seemingly perfect life. While being a stay-at-home-mom of two daughters keeps her hands full, her 20 hours a week at the community theatre “doesn’t really count” even as a part-time gig, she declares. “You know, sometimes I think it’s like ‘us’ against ‘them’ — the career mommies. Them and all their various board meetings, they’re so important. Google this, Yahoo that,” Madelaine eye-rolls, clearly drawing the battle lines between her tribe and the CEO moms’ club led by Laura Dern’s fierce Renata Klein. Renata worries about not being liked, and expresses her concern to her husband in the very first episode, after discovering that her daughter is being physically harassed at school. For her, this unpopularity is a bitter pill to swallow in the bubbled universe of Monterey mommies, all of whom converge at the school parking every evening to compare notes on parenting and social capital. “I’m a working mom. Worse, a CEO, which deems me a bitch. If I get shot in the head tonight, half these moms are going to say, ‘What, she couldn’t bother herself to duck?’” she says in a later episode.

A scene from Big Little Lies season 2 trailer

While the two begin as adversaries, they soon find themselves in the same boat as Celeste (Nicole Kidman), Jane, and Bonnie (Zoe Kravitz) by the end of season one. The ‘Monterey-5’ are drawn into an unlikely sisterhood built on identical insecurities and a murder, as secrets domino out of control after the first episode of Amabella getting bullied. This is where the bubble bursts, and our bloody realities collide with their cushioned existence. What Renata and Madelaine reveal through their respective posturings is symptomatic of the misogyny conditioning women since the beginning of time. The ladies are just never good or complete enough. You might be on the board of directors at Paypal (as Renata humbly announces right at the beginning), but that barely counts when you score low on the mommy-metre. You might be a full-time helicopter mother, but how does that look on your resume? Whether out of choice or the lack of it — as is the case with Celeste, who’s forced into giving up a promising career as a lawyer by her abusive husband Perry (Aleksander Skarsgard) — the women in Big Little Lies try to constantly outrun the questions that have haunted womankind through the ages. And such debilitating doubts are held together by common threads of violence, guilt, and a search for one’s identity. Evidently, there’s pain running through the veins of Monterey. For a Californian smalltown dressed in satin and pearls, its inhabitants seem a little too willing to reach out for their primal instincts and flying fists ever so often, giving an almost shallow release to the pent up trauma. Arguments end in bare-knuckle fights — whether between Celeste and Perry, or Renata and Jane (with the latter nearly blinding the former) — the show doesn’t shy away from extensively exploring its roots of abusive rot. However, this pain, no matter how omnipresent and tangible, is meant to be invisibilised and internalised. It’s like the Mindflayer lurking in the darkest recesses of Hawkins in Stranger Things — pulling the strings without revealing itself, shadowing every footstep you take, until, in this case, the sisterhood rises to protect their own. And the caravan of sisterhood travels bottom up — from the frightened little Amabella and precocious Chloe, to the rebelling Abigail right up to the Monterey-5, it aims to cover fair ground. The scars are still hidden though, make no mistake. Amabella’s lies continue to protect her abuser — one of the Wright twins — in public; Jane’s new address still covers the tracks to her mysterious past (although, one later discovers that it brings her closer than ever before to her rapist); and Celeste’s concealers and cashmere are still dressing her wounds. However now, for the first time ever, there’s a chance at healing from those injuries, that too collectively.

Still from Big Little Lies season 2

On discovering the common root to their pain in the same instance during the climax, Jane and Celeste come together to tie the loose ends of every Monterey mystery into a satisfying knot. Visually, the two seem to blend into each other, dressed up as the same version of Holly Golightly from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. The other three are dressed in their own, strikingly varied avatars of Audrey Hepburn — a far from subtle, yet potent visual trope used by the makers to underline what the show ultimately drives home, a unified voice against violence and suffering. In the moment that Bonnie runs to push the villainous Perry down the stairs, the sisterhood throws its doors open to its unlikeliest member, one who was watching from the periphery all along. Despite teetering dangerously on the edge of the tired old ‘girl power’ theme, Big Little Lies rises above it and accomplishes a deep, almost frightening depiction of pathos, one that exists at the core of female existence. It’s this common denominator that drives every character to their destinations, underlined by horrors, ambitions wrought with guilt, and a search for oneself. There’s a strong male gaze hovering over the show, but it barely holds a candle to the women who join forces and grab it by the collar, subverting it to strengthen their sisterhood. With more skeletons slated to tumble out of Monterey’s closet in the second season, there’s an ominous sense of foreboding ushered in by the probing cops, and grandma Mary Louise Wright (Meryl Streep). But then, there’s undeniable hope too. It comes with shared secrets and poignant silences spent together by the ocean, with assurances of recovering together. It may take a village to raise a child, but it takes a sisterhood to heal the world they’re born into.

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Stepping stone chapter 8

The sun is hot. My house will be even hotter.

 I don’t want to go inside.

 He gets angry when he’s hot.

 I look at my bike that is lying in the ugly dead grass.

 I should pick it up so I don’t get yelled at. Mom says that Grandma bought me that bike and I should take better care of it.

 I’m too sweaty. I’ll put it away later.

 I go into the apartment building and pinch my nose. The hallway always smells like a toilet. I need to get to my door where it doesn’t smell so much inside.

 I hear yelling. Is that him?

 No. It’s the crazy lady down the hall.

 My backpack is so heavy.

 I can’t wait to put it down.

 Not on the floor, though. He’ll get mad if he trips.

 I look at the numbers on the doors that I pass. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Three. The one is missing. I think it is supposed to say thirteen.

 Almost there.

 I reach the door that has the number fifteen and place my hand on the nob.

     I bolted upright, the sound of the alarm clock ringing shrill in my ears. I reached over to the nightstand to silence it. I shook my head and tried to will away the images of the night. And the smells.

 What the fuck?

 At the very least, I was thankful that the alarm woke me before the dream went any further.

 The last thing that I need to do is to start the day off analyzing that shit.

 My brain felt foggy. I needed Selena. I sat up in bed and tried to remember what day it was.

 Wednesday.

 I scowled when I remembered that I hadn’t spoken to Selena since Monday. I was partly to blame for that, as the Canterwell deal took more finesse than I anticipated. What should have been a simple sign and go, wound up being dinner and drinks with George Canterwell about another potential property sale.

 And the greedy bastard still wouldn’t budge on the price.

 I rubbed my hands over the stubble on my face as I thought about the past two days. Despite my busy schedule, I still called and texted Selena multiple times, only to receive a short response or be ignored all together. I tried to stop by her floor, but found her conveniently busy in closed-door meetings with the employees from Turning Stone.

 I knew when I was being put off, and I suspected that it was because she was still upset over my proposal. It was safe to assume that she’d be stubborn about accepting, but I hadn’t expected her to be outright angry.

 Transferring ownership of Turning Stone to her was meant to put her more at ease. I didn’t want her employment status to be looming over us and potentially get in the way of our relationship. I understood the meaning of financial instability. I never wanted her to worry about having that stress. Giving her Turning Stone was merely a drop in the bucket, despite Stephen and Bryan’s arguments. It was a portion of my business that I had little time for anyways. My focus had always been, and always would be, real estate.

 Enough is enough. She can’t continue on like this.

 Feeling frustrated, I threw the blankets off and climbed out of bed.

 I need a work out and a shower.

 After completing a solid thirty minutes of cardio, I took a quick shower and dressed for the day. As I knotted my tie, I eyed up the line of clothes that were purchased for Selena. They took up an entire row of the walk-in closet, bright and colorful, and such a contrast to the utilitarian colored suits that I wore. The closet was hers as much as it was mine.

 She belongs here. Regularly.

 I toyed with the idea of convincing her to move in with me as I retrieved my cell from the dresser and I made my way to the kitchen.

 One thing at a time, Stone.

 I opened the refrigerator and was please to see that Vivian had recently gone grocery shopping. Fresh fruit had been cut and placed in airtight containers. My housekeeper was a godsend.

 I sat down on one of the kitchen bar stools and began sifting through emails on my phone while I ate an assortment of melons and berries. I spotted one from Selena and immediately opened it first.

     TO: Justin Stone

 FROM: Selena Cole

 SUBJECT: Your Offer

   Justin,

   After careful consideration, I have decided to accept your proposal. However, a few changes needed to be made to the plan that you laid out. I have attached a modified version of the buyout.

 If you are in agreement, I would like to formally discuss it this afternoon. Please let me know what time works for you.

   Selena

     Buyout?

 The contract was not a buyout. I was giving her the company straight out. Curious, I clicked on the attachment and read through it.

 Her plan was no longer a transfer of ownership, but a buyout that was similar to a rent-to-own. She had researched fair market value for a firm that was the size of Turning Stone and renegotiated her salary to be a considerable amount less. The difference in her salary, as well as a portion of Turning Stone profits, would be paid to Stone Enterprise in the form of monthly payments with a term date.

 I sat back in my chair, stunned over how well she played her hand. Her idea made sense, and I couldn’t believe that I didn’t think of it myself. I should have known that Selena would not accept an entire company for free, but rather work to obtain it on her own.

 Miss Cole, you will never cease to amaze me.

 Her revised plan would certainly stop Stephen and Bryan from balking so much. I forwarded her email on to them and requested that they meet in my office to discuss the new proposal at three o’clock. I then typed a quick response to Selena to let her know what time to meet us, and also reminded her of our shopping appointment later after work.

 I hit send and smiled to myself, looking forward to having a very interesting day.

     ****

     I sat down behind my computer with a steaming cup of coffee. I sipped it slowly, waiting to feel the surge of caffeine through my veins while I reviewed my calendar of appointments and list of things to do for the day. My first two days on the job had been long and tiring. I was beginning to understand why Justin wanted someone to take charge of Turning Stone Advertising.

 While the company was profitable, it was apparent that it was not Justin’s main business focus. Between getting to know the somewhat reluctant-to-accept-change employees and sorting through existing and future ad campaign opportunities, I quickly learned that I had my work cut out for me. The employees, while creatively competent, could use some formal guidance. That fact alone was intimidating. I knew that I could handle the job aspects, but there was a big difference between being a boss and a leader. Having never had my leadership skills put to the test, I could only hope that I was up for the challenge.

 I exited out of the calendar application and opened my inbox. The first thing to populate was an email from Justin. It was in response to the one that I sent that morning.

 That was quick.

 Nervous butterflies danced in my stomach. I wasn’t sure how he would take to my offer, but his reply came remarkably quick. I hesitantly clicked on the email.

     FROM: Justin Stone

 TO: Selena Cole

 SUBJECT: Re: Your Offer

   I’m glad that you’ve finally decided to break the silence. And here I thought that I would have to take you over my knee. I may still do exactly that, as just the mere thought is more than a little bit appealing. You’ve been away from me for too long, Miss Cole.

 I’ve scheduled a meeting for us with my account and lawyer. Come to my office at 3 P.M. today so that we can discuss your proposal with them further. I don’t imagine that it will take very long. We should be done in plenty of time to follow through with our plans to costume shop tonight.

   Justin Stone

 CEO, Stone Enterprise

     I frowned after reading his email, not knowing what to think about it. He didn’t give me any inclination as to whether or not he was going to accept my offer. To me, it wasn’t up for debate. I had thought long and hard about Justin’s proposal, which was the reason why I avoided him for two days. I needed to think on my own without the interference of his intensely determined sapphire eyes.

 Ultimately, I concluded that taking Turning Stone free and clear was simply something I could not do. I would have been perfectly okay with managing the company or exploring partnership possibilities down the road, but I could never accept it freely if I hadn’t earned it. There was no pride in that. I valued the rewards that came from hard work too much.

 I reread his email, looking for some sort of clue in regards to which way he was leaning. He said that he wanted us to met with his accountant and lawyer, which could potentially mean that he was considering the revised deal. That was a good sign. However, I knew Justin. He was anything but predictable. I needed to be braced for anything that he might throw at me.

 I glanced up when I heard a knock on my office door.

 “Come in,” I called.

 Clive, the lead marketing coordinator for Turning Stone, came in.

 “Good Morning, Miss Cole.”

 I shook my head at the way he so formally addressed me. He, along with the other employees at Turning Stone, were used to Justin’s ways. I wanted them to be more relaxed with me, as I believed that totalitarian rule over them would only result in stifling their creativity.

 “Clive, I’ve already told you. There’s no need to be so formal. Selena is fine with me,” I said with a light laugh.

 He smiled sheepishly.

 “Sorry, old habits die hard. I’ll try to remember in the future.”

 I returned his smile, hoping to put him more at ease.

 “Don’t sweat it. So, what do you have for me?” I asked, noting the large portfolio case that he was carrying.

 “Billboard designs for Wally’s. Carol and I just finished the layout. If you have a minute, I’d like to go over them with you.”

 “Sure thing. Let’s see what you came up with,” I said and stood up to walk over to the small conference table that sat in the corner of my office.

 Clive pulled six different billboard designs from the portfolio case and spread them out over the table. The designs were sleek and polished, clearly displaying the diversity of the city while using catchy phrases to emphasize the high quality product standards of the grocer. However, I couldn’t help but feel like they were missing the essence of what Wally’s truly was.

 “What do you think?” he asked.

 “Overall, I think that you and Carol did a fantastic job with them.”

 “I sense a ‘but’ in there,” he remarked somewhat dejectedly.

 “Well, I do have a suggestion to make. Wally’s is a family owned business and a staple in so many communities. I think we could use that to our advantage with a few very subtle changes.”

 I went on to tell Clive my thoughts on what to do, as well as share my first hand knowledge about the company. At first, he seemed skeptical, but he listened attentively. I watched him carefully while I spoke, not wanting him to think that I was putting down his creativities, but merely wanted to explore the possibility of capturing an additional audience. When his expression changed from being doubtful to enthusiastic, I knew that I had broken through.

 “This is all great info!” he exclaimed. “I’m going to get with Carol again. We need to think out of the box on this one.”

 I smiled at his newfound excitement over the Wally’s campaign. It was contagious.

 “We do. Just keep in mind that Wally’s is trying to make a recovery after falling on hard times. I suggest that we keep our long term activities to ads that are proven to work, but still incorporate fresh ideas into shorter term ads in order to see what sticks.”

 “I think we are going to have to appeal to each individual community separately,” he mused.

 “I agree. Communities are the best place to start. Do you think you can have the new designs done by Friday? I have a meeting scheduled with Walter Roberts and I’d like to show him what Turning Stone has come up with.”

 “It will be tough because we’re kind of backlogged, but I can shuffle a few things to make sure that it is.”

 I frowned at hearing that, as I had been thinking about the staff’s workload just that morning during my cab ride into work. I had concerns over the many clients that were still waiting on design proofs.

 “Clive, what do you think about hiring a few temps to get us caught up?”

 I could see the relief sag in his shoulders immediately at my question.

 “That would be extremely helpful, Miss Cole.”

 I raised my eyebrows at him.

 “Miss Cole?”

 “Sorry. That would be extremely helpful, Selena,” he said and grinned.

 “Thanks,” I laughed. “Let me see what I can do about our staffing issue. There may be a temp agency that Mr. Stone already uses that could be of help. Either way, when we start looking at candidates, I’ll want your input on who we bring onboard.”

 Clive, who had begun putting away the billboard designs, stopped what he was doing at looked up at me in surprise.

 “You want my input? Really?”

 “Yes, really. You’re the lead marketing coordinator. Why wouldn’t I value your input?”

 “Well, I just…” he trailed off, and appeared to be searching for the right words. “When we heard that Mr. Stone was bringing someone in to take over Turning Stone, we all assumed that you would be some hotshot New York City know-it-all. Those sentiments grew stronger once we saw how he pulled out all the stops for this new office. But I must say, I’m happy to see that you’ve been proving otherwise. I think I am going to enjoy working for you.”

 “I’m happy to be here,” I said earnestly.

 Smiling to myself, I headed out of the planning room feeling relatively pleased with how day three at Turning Stone was shaping up to be. I could only hope that my meeting with Justin would go just as well.

  I glanced at the clock. It was nearing three o’clock and I was expecting Selena at any minute. Stephen and Bryan were sitting in my office, both arguing their opinions on what I should and shouldn’t do about Selena’s offer.

 “I like her tenacity, Justin. She could have just taken the company free and clear, but decided to earn it instead. I think her proposal is smart and well thought out,” Stephen argued.

 “That’s why you’re the lawyer and I’m the accountant,” Bryan quipped. “You’re not looking at these numbers. Yes, she is offering fair market value, but I am looking at the long-term loss of potential revenue.”

 I shook my head at Bryan.

 “Bryan, I’m not concerned about the long-term loss,” I reiterated. “Turning Stone was a venture designed to help the businesses that have lease agreements with me, nothing more. It was never a get-rich plan. I think you’re over stating the loss.”

 “What is she defaults on the payments? Then what?” Bryan pressed.

 “She won’t. And if she does, Stephen has included a lien clause just to appease you,” I rebuked. “If the payments are not made, the company defaults back to Stone Enterprise. However, I highly doubt that it will come to that. I trust her capabilities. In fact, I think she’ll succeed in making Turning Stone a very lucrative business.”

 “That’s just more reason to not sell it off,” Bryan muttered.

 The phone on my desk buzzed. It was Laura.

 “Mr. Stone. Miss Cole is here,” she said somewhat tersely.

 I smiled to myself, imagining the possible scene outside of my office. After the way Selena had burst in here on Monday, I was fairly certain that Laura considered moving furniture to block Selena from entering without permission ever again. I had to refrain from laughing at the idea as I leaned forward to press the intercom button.

 “Send her in please,” I said into the speaker.

 When Selena came in, her brilliant brown eyes locked on mine. She looked determined, but wary at the same time as she moved to take a seat in between Bryan and Stephen.

 “Hello. I’m Selena Cole,” she said politely and extended her hand to each of them.

 While they exchanged introductions, I couldn’t help but to take in her appearance. She was wearing a navy blue suit, the jacket outlining the curve of her waistline and breasts in the most delectable way. It was the same suit she wore when she came to my office for the very first time. And when I saw the triskelion necklace that I bought for her clasped around her neck, my cock instantly sprung to life.

 Yes indeed, Miss Cole. I have been away from you for far too long.

 I looked at Bryan and Stephen. They were both carefully assessing her. I expected as much, but planned to just observe them for the time being. They needed a minute to get to know the woman that I nearly handed a division of my company over to.

 “We were just discussing your plan to buyout Turning Stone,” Stephen said to her. “It appears that you did your research.”

 “Justin put a lot on the table. I felt that it was important to know what I was getting into,” she replied evenly as she eyed me ever so subtly. I couldn't help but to think that there was a double meaning behind her words.

 “Yes, and I couldn’t agree more with her idea,” I told the three of them. “It’s the best solution for all parties involved.”

 “So you’re open to it?” Selena asked and her eyes lit up.

 “Of course I am. I’ll admit that it wasn’t something that I considered until you presented it, but it makes perfect sense. I understand why you wouldn’t accept the company outright.”

 “I’m curious, Selena” Bryan chimed in. “I was highly against the original offer, but it was extremely beneficial to you. What made you decide to not accept it?”

 Bryan’s tone was sarcastic, and a stark contrast to the cordial attitude that Stephen took. But Bryan was different from Stephen, especially when it came down to money. He was testing her and it pissed me off. However, just as I was about to rip into him for it, Selena spoke. Her tone was light, but her eyes held a fierce determination.

 “Look, gentlemen. Neither one of you know me,” she began and looked back and forth between them. “I understand your hesitations and suspicions when it comes to me.”

 “It’s our job to protect Stone Enterprise’s legal and financial matters,” Bryan stated bluntly. “That’s what we are paid to do.”

 “Hey, Bryan. Chill. Just hear her out you old scrooge,” Stephen joked.

 Bryan sat back in his chair, folded his arms, and looked pointedly at Selena.

 “I’m sorry, but I can’t help but to think that Justin’s personal interest in you is clouding his judgment.”

 “I’ve thought the same thing,” Stephen commented offhandedly.

 “Enough!” I snapped. “Neither one of you should be concerning yourselves with my personal life.”

 My temper simmered below the surface, just waiting to erupt. Friends of mine or not, they were both precariously close to being fired.

 “It’s okay, Justin,” Selena interjected. “If I were them, I would be thinking the same.”

 “This is not an attack on your personal life,” Stephen explained calmly, the voice of reason as usual. “Stone Enterprise has been very successful because of sound business decisions that were made by you, Justin. Bryan is just doing the job that you’ve asked him to do, and the same goes for me. If we weren’t questioning this, then we’d be shirking our responsibilities. Selena, Justin just spent the last hour expressing his belief in your capabilities. And while he isn’t a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination, I think that I speak for both Bryan and myself when I say that we would like to hear your testimony on the matter.”

 “Stephen, don’t treat this like one of your court rooms,” I warned. “Regardless of what Selena says, the decision to sell off Turning Stone lies with me and me alone.”

 “Justin the Dictator,” Selena remarked.

 Stephen immediately started to laugh.

 “You’ve got that right!” he goaded.

 I looked to Bryan and saw the corners of his mouth twitch. Selena, on the other hand, merely sat there with a smirk on her face. I shook my head, somewhat amazed by the effect that her quick wit had on people. In just three words, even if she was poking fun at me, she managed to instantly defuse the tension in the room.

 When she began to speak again, she looked pointedly at me.

 “I will succeed with this, Justin. I’m too stubborn to let Turning Stone fail. But it’s more than just that to me, which is why I refused to accept your original offer. There is something to be said about pride and self worth. I believe that hard work and diligence enhances an individual’s character. It gives a broader appreciation of one’s own achievements. Taking a handout isn’t my style, even if given with the best intentions. Perhaps that’s a foolish way to view it, especially considering the fact that I was offered a golden opportunity. But to me, accepting would give me no sense of accomplishment. I need to know that I succeeded all by myself.”

 I smiled at her, knowing that she said exactly what Stephen and Bryan needed to hear. The way that they looked at her, it was almost as if they were seeing her for the first time. And in a way, they were.

 Yes, gentlemen. This is the woman that has turned my world upside down.

 “Well then,” Bryan said and smiled. He seemed more at ease, and not nearly as suspicious as he did a few moments before. “It looks like we have a contract to review now, doesn’t it?”

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