#did not help i spend 3 hours of my day fighting with a vendor over the phone... 2.5 of those hours were just me being on hold

[haojun]

Live footage of me trying to finish my silly little to-do list at work but it just keeps getting longer

[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 3

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 3k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO]

With the thought of Tobirama being upset over the stunt you pulled the other day at the forefront of your mind, you decide to buy him breakfast. You are not really sure what he likes, but you decide to go to a vendor near the mansion to buy him some sweet pastries and hot black tea. You hope you’re not fired, though you’re sure that Tobirama cannot do that. 

 You sigh, hating how impulsive you can get. Madara had always told you not to get carried away. 

You make your way to the library that is now your current workplace, but you do not find Tobirama in his usual spot. You set his food on his spot, and you get back to work, doing the things that he asked you to do. You will yourself to stay on task, but your focus is broken when Tobirama walks in, carrying more books and scrolls with him. 

 He places the pile in between the table to divide your spaces, and you find that the stacks of books and scrolls act as a shield for him. 

You roll your eyes, thinking of commenting on how petty this is until Tobirama hands you an ancient, thick book that is about to fall apart at the seams. You hold it gently, afraid that the pages will fly away the moment you open it.  

“What is this?” You inquire, unsure of what to do with the book. “Something you want me to throw away?” 

Tobirama scowls and you give him an awkward grin. 

“Or...recycle?” You suggest uneasily. 

“I want you to study it and take notes on what you deem is important,” Tobirama answers, going around the table and sitting down so that he disappears from your view. 

 “Alright,” you acquiesce. “Also, I completed the list of skills I thought were important to have for young shinobis based on the information that you’ve given me from the past several days.” 

“I see,” Tobirama says and he leaves it at that without saying anything more. 

You give him a few moments, and you hear papers shuffling behind the wall of books that is keeping you from seeing him. 

You push a column of books aside to give yourself some more space, but it proves to be detrimental because suddenly, you hear books and scrolls falling and a chair sliding back violently. 

 You come around the table and you find the tea you meant to give to him knocked over with its contents spilled. 

Tobirama gives you a withering look, and he looks like he is about to yell. 

“I said to not eat near me for this very reason,” Tobirama scolds. 

 You cringe. Luckily, the spill only got to the bottom book on the pile near yours. “I’m sorry, I was only trying to make up for yesterday.” 

“What?” Tobirama says scathingly. 

 “You know, the sword...grabbing thing,” you reply as you move the books aside to get the wet book. “But in my defense, you did not need to stack such a tall pile of books to avoid me.” 

Tobirama looks at you with disbelief and he crosses his arms together. “I am not avoiding you.” 

 “Right.” You do not believe him. “I will go clean this up. Sorry for the mess.” 

You take up the book with you and you turn towards the exit to look for towels to clean up the spill. 

“What you did,” Tobirama suddenly grunts out. 

 You turn around in surprise. He averts from your gaze. 

 “It’s good to take the enemies by surprise,” Tobirama comments almost under his breath and you stare at him, bewildered. 

“...Alright,” you say awkwardly, waiting if he’s going to say something more, but that is it. 

 Is he actually complimenting you? 

You press your lips to stop yourself from smiling. 

//

Almost two weeks have passed and you found that the two of you have settled into a routine. The atmosphere between the two of you have eased so far, but few words are exchanged between the two of you unless it is about work. Tobirama is very good at breaking down things when you do not understand something, and you also find that the two of you agree a lot on the ideas that the two of you have come up with so far. Getting to know his students is a joy, and you actually do not mind him tagging along when you go to the Academy grounds to teach children who are eager to learn how to sword fight. 

 This is a skill you are most confident in. 

 Tobirama does not do much but watch, and then he leaves without saying a word if he is getting pulled elsewhere, which is a common occurrence. 

 In the days that you spend with him, you notice that Tobirama is always working. You have never seen him take a break in the hours you spend with him during the day, and when he is not with you, he is with his brother, his students or going around the village helping people and solving their menial problems. 

You try to let him be, but it is a little concerning when you leave him to go eat lunch and still find him frowning at the things he has to do. 

 So you find yourself buying extra snacks for him, and you avoid anything liquid just in case another spill happens. 

“I don’t like this kind of pastry,” Tobirama says after you set down a warm bread with melted cheese inside. 

 “Well, you have to get something in your stomach,” you counter. 

 You decide to just leave it near him, just in case he changes his mind. 

More days have passed and it is starting to bother you how he just does not seem to take a break. This man can be doing this for hours without stopping and you are starting to wonder if he is human. You are jealous of his unmatched focus and his ability to delegate and organize everything, so you try to take notes and copy what he does. You want to improve yourself and Tobirama seems like a good role model to follow and obviously, his students are a testament to that.

 You keep leaving him snacks, but he always says the same thing. 

“I don’t like the filling in this mochi,” Tobirama says without wasting time. Like he is automatically programmed to dislike whatever you give him. 

“That is popular right now,” you almost say in a defensive tone. 

 “It’s too sweet,” Tobirama cuts in a sharp tone. 

 “Then what would you like, my lord?” You are a little fed up now. 

Tobirama lets out a deep breath and stops what he is doing. He leans back on his chair and his eyes meet yours for a moment before looking away. “What are you doing?” 

 “Wasting my money on you, obviously,” you roll your eyes. 

 “I did not ask,” Tobirama says, but you note that he looks taken aback by your words. A slight wrinkle forms on his pale forehead.

“Right,” you sigh and you move to your seat. 

Tobirama’s eyes track you, his stare boring on your skin as if you are an unknown device he wants to tinker with. You ignore him, and after a few moments, he finally looks away and goes back to his work. His actions leave you mystified, but you let it go. You are probably bothering him by giving him snacks that he does not like. 

Tobirama takes a book and opens it, but you hear his nose flare and he slams the book closed immediately. 

 You look up, and then you see the book in front of him. You bite your tongue to keep yourself from laughing. 

“What is this?” Tobirama barks, his ears turning pink. 

 You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to confess what you did yet. “Well, if you have not noticed, that is a book, my lord.” 

 “Where is my book?” Tobirama demands, and a vein pops out of his very pink neck. 

 “Relax, it’s right here, I just switched the covers,” you say to try and calm him down. 

 “With such indecent pictures?!” 

“I was just trying to make you laugh!” You have exchanged one of his books with pornography that you got from the market this morning.

Tobirama grits his teeth. “On what plane of existence is this ever hilarious?” 

 You sigh. “ You have no sense of humor. A smile or a laugh on that handsome face of yours would not hurt.”

Tobirama’s left eye twitches. “Get out,” he grits out. 

Suddenly, you feel bad and you raise your hands to show him defeat. “Okay, okay, I am sorry. I was just trying to cheer you up.” 

 Tobirama stares at you incredulously. “Then I will leave.” 

He starts to gather his things, and you jump up from your seat and you step in front of his way. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you sigh. “I really am sorry.”

 Tobirama glances down at you, and you are suddenly aware of the small distance between the two of you. 

You step back to give him room. “I am just concerned, okay? You are always working, and I never saw you once take your time to get something to eat.” You open your palm towards him to show that you really mean peace. “I also noticed that you look very tired.” 

Tobirama frowns at you, and he takes a deep breath. “The Hokage has been very busy these days,” he says. 

You wait for him to elaborate, and you study his face. He looks like he is thinking about what to say next. 

“But I am fine,” Tobirama finishes after a minute. He glances at you, barely meeting your eyes and then he glances away. “Let’s get to work. We’re meeting the Hokage soon to present to him what we have so far.” 

You let out a breath of relief, and you think about how pink Tobirama’s ears were and you store that detail in the back of your mind. 

//

Tobirama stares as his brother guffaws out loud for a minute. He just told his elder brother about your several pranks on him, and he even admitted–he admitted, something that he has some trouble doing at times–being uneasy anticipating your next act of micro-terrorism on him. 

 And his brother laughed. His brother, who is always kind and understanding towards him and knows how to ease his mind, laughed. 

 Everyone just seems to laugh at him these days. Since when did he become the brunt of many consequent unsaid jokes? 

“Tobirama, it seems like she is just trying to be nice,” Hashirama admonishes and wipes a small tear from the corner of his eye. 

“Nice?” Tobirama snaps, overwhelmingly offended by this. His lips form into a small pout unconsciously.

Hashirama sighs. “Look, I know it’s not easy getting along with other people that are not family and seeing them every day, but it’s normal to clash with different personalities.”

 “Not like this,” Tobirama immediately juts in. “She has it out for me.” 

 “You said that the two of you agree mostly on everything, why would she have it out for you?”

 Tobirama steps forward, suddenly determined. “Elder brother, I have some suspicions that–”

A knock interrupts his sentence and Tobirama immediately halts. 

 Hashirama shoots his brother a look. “Come in!” 

The door opens, and to Tobirama’s horror, you appear behind it. 

“Am I late?” You ask cheerfully. 

Tobirama’s mind starts to ring alarm bells. Who smiles like that this early in the morning? 

“No, no, just in time,” Hashirama reassures and beckons you to get closer. 

Tobirama feels your glance on him, and everything in him starts to twist tautly. Your presence disturbs the atmosphere around him, and the only thing you did was smile at his brother. 

“Okay,” Hashirama begins. “What do you two have so far?” 

Tobirama clears his throat and steps forward, wanting to get the first word in. He wants his brother to be impressed by what he has done so far. 

“We have compiled a list of skills that must be met before graduating from the Academy and we tested it on my students,” Tobirama says. “I also decided to break up the ranks even more, adding a special jounin rank, and added more skills that need to be mastered in order to move up from genin.” 

 Tobirama steps forward and hands Hashirama a copy of the said list. “Aside from the skills, we also added several electives that the students can take, such as history, arts and science.” 

Hashirama nods and then he turns to you. 

“Well, in addition to that, we have enlisted many people to commission as soon as possible to help us achieve this,” you start. “This is the estimated budget that we may need to do so, and I would like that this is done as soon as possible–to your utmost convenience–of course, so that we can have drafts to work with and reform before the new school year.” 

Hashirama grins as you hand him the paper with the names and the figures you have written out. “This is brilliant, and way better than I have imagined. To be honest, I thought this was going to be a disaster.”

Tobirama’s head snaps up at this, and he hears you laugh. 

 “Oh, Lord Hokage, you are so hilarious!” 

Tobirama’s eyes snap to your face, noticing that you are smirking with mirth in your eyes. His brother waves a hand, clearly fawning over you. 

 “Oh please, you do not need to call me Lord Hokage every time you see me,” Hashirama chuckles. “My name will do.” 

“Oh no, that is too much, my lord,” you smile and Tobirama feels his head grow hot. “Maybe we can agree on Lord Hashirama? People may talk if I suddenly start calling you by your first name.” 

 Tobirama sees you wink at his brother and he reels. What is this ? You have got Madara under your spell, and now his own brother is also enthralled by you. He remembers you asking cattily for compensation and he jumps to the assumption that this may be a ploy by you to get just that, by getting closer to the founding fathers of this village.

 Not on his watch. 

“Anyways, are the two of you getting along well?” Hashirama inquires. 

 “Of course,” you lie easily and Tobirama almost loses his cool. 

But he does not, because he knows self-control. 

 He wants to cut this conversation short and tell his brother to stop entertaining you like this. It is indecent. 

“And I think he’s a great teacher,” you continue. “I am learning a lot from him.” 

 Tobirama frowns and thinks about the times that you have tried to copy him. 

“Yes, he is very bright,” Hashirama glances at Tobirama. “Well, I think that will be all. Thank you.” 

You nod, and Tobirama stares daggers at his brother. 

 You rush out of the office, noting how Tobirama seems to react more around his brother. 

The door opens, and Tobirama quickly catches up to you. His hand reaches for you to stop you, but he catches your arm and whirls you to face him. 

“What is wrong with you?” He demands. 

 “What?” You snap, and you shake off his grip on your arm. “What now, Lord Tobirama?” 

Tobirama glares at you vehemently. “You do know that my brother is married.” 

 You stare at him, confusion twisting your face. “What? What kind of question is that? Of course I do.” 

Tobirama stares at you even more, and he opens his mouth. He is unable to form words. 

“What are you trying to say?” You enunciate slowly and you squint your eyes at him. You fold your arms and Tobirama notes that this is the first time that you look genuinely pissed at him. 

 Tobirama is still staring at you, and the silence prolongs and it becomes awkward. 

“Okay…?” You prompt, and Tobirama hears the vexation on your tone. “You know, your brother has been so kind to me, I am just trying to be friendly. Not that you know what that is.” 

 Tobirama’s face twists uncomfortably. He stands there, his hands open and closing, and he abruptly leaves you hanging, unsure of what else to do or say. 

It is becoming a common occurrence for him to be disarmed by you. His mind has come up with so many assumptions about you, but you knock them out one by one. He cannot figure you out, not just because he does not know your background. He does not know how your mind works, but he can tell that you are smart and very skilled in what you do. Despite his attempts at probing you, you give him nothing. For once, he is clueless on how to act around somebody. 

 Tobirama digs his nails into his palm. 

 Your act will fall sooner or later, and he will be the one to uncover it. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER FOUR >>>]

[sungie]

yang jeongin ; the sea

- - -

“let’s make a sandcastle together!” you offer to jeongin, as the two of you sit on the sand and watch the lazy flock of seagulls fly overhead

jeongin’s still munching on his pastry, which he didn’t share with you,  because he’s mean

you work at a bakery and everytime jeongin comes over, you give him bread wrapped in pretty packaging, or tiny fruit tarts, or cups of coffee, and sometimes if he comes in at closing hours, you’ll let him take home some of the extra warm foods like curry pan or croquette

you’ve earned quite a reputation among jeongin’s friends for being the best, because sometimes jeongin will give them some pastries if he’s feeling generous

today was another day where you brought jeongin some of his favorite that was leftover, but apparently you’ve over assumed his kindness yet again, because he won’t budge :(

“sandcastle?” you ask again, because you think jeongin hasn’t heard you

but instead, jeongin laughs at you and reaches over to poke you in the cheek, “i don’t wanna build a sandcastle with you” 

“ugh.  you’re such a tsundere”

jeongin just raises his eyebrows and smiles sweetly at you while he eats another bite of his pastry that he hides from your grabby hands, “no <3”

first of all, you don’t know how it’s possible to say that in words, but jeongin does it

what jeongin wants, jeongin gets

you laugh and push him over, deciding to make your own sandcastle 

and as you do, you passionately explain to jeongin as you’re running back and forth from sand to water, that everyone thinks he’s such a baby and that he’s so sweet.  and you’re like ?? sorry what ?? my best friend won’t take my love, won’t share the food that i gave him, and he’s so mean to me hggh

jeongin listens to you in amusement.  you’re passing him back and forth and your voice will cut off, so all he’ll hear is different parts of your sentences.  but to be fair, you do look really invested in what you’re saying 

all he chooses to hear, though, is “tsundere”, “sweet”, “love”, and “mean”

“so you love me?” jeongin teases, as you pause by his spot to try your luck for a spare piece of pastry, “i can’t help being so attractive” 

oh my god

that being said, jeongin really loves annoying you because he thinks you look cute when you get flustered 

but he eventually decides to join you by the edge of the sand near the water because it’s boring without you.  and then, because you ask him to, he starts looking for shells

jeongin finds one buried beneath the sand.  it’s really small, but it’s cream and has a spiral 

jeongin actually finds a lot of shells 

maybe this is his hidden talent.  jeongin, why did you become an idol when you could’ve been a shell finder, please sort out your priorities

finally, you both end up with a big sand castle which comes with a moat, shells, and everything

a wave comes and knocks it over just as you’re about to leave :( but it’s okay because it was fun, and you and jeongin got to dip your feet in the water which felt really nice

it’s starting to get a little dark, now, the sky turns pink and orange, and the bright, opalescent lights from the pier flicker on 

jeongin bumps his shoulder against yours, and you bump him back, and the two of you can’t stop smiling 

you decide to buy yourself a churro because you’re craving something sweet, and the churros are really good at this one vendor

jeongin decides to get one too, but as soon as you reach the front, he puts his hands on your shoulders and gently, but firmly, wheels you out of line and buys yours for you 

and you did, to your credit, try to fight him and buy it, but you’re also really touched

you give him the biggest smile after he hands you your churro, “innie, you’re turning soft”

jeongin’s so blushy.  he can’t look you in the eyes for a few moments 

so he just laughs at you and tries to push you away, but you’re not having it

later, the two of you are eating your churros and walking around the pier 

you happen to peer at his phone to ask him to send you the selfie you both took, and then you catch a glimpse of his lockscreen

it’s really cute, actually, and it makes you stifle a laugh because it’s a photo of you hugging jeongin and jeongin pretending to be really mad about it 

and it’s funny because you swore he was really annoyed, but in the picture he looks so smiley, and soft, and happy 

“can you send me this picture, too?” 

jeongin sees what you’re looking at, and he nods, but you can tell he’s a little flustered 

i guess he didn’t expect you to see it?

jeongin and you have days like this where the two of you explore the city, or the beach, or other cool, hip areas after you get out of work on friday’s

and it’s just so beautiful because all the lights turn on, and for a moment, it’s like nothing else exists: just you and jeongin

jeongin likes to tease you a lot 

but it’s always playful, and he makes you smile like no one else

whenever you two hang out, there’s always so much laughter

tonight, though, jeongin’s teasing isn’t really the type that makes you feel lowkey roasted, it’s more the type of teasing that makes you feel soft and a little flustered

um ,,

is jeongin flirting?

but then, before you can contemplate it further, he switches it up again because he sees a funny looking blob and true to his normal teasing, points to it and says, “look, that’s you” 

you whack him in the arm because what the hell so mean :’((

since you both really like being edgy, you’ll both make a point to walk or run on the curb with windmill arms, or reach a lamppost and swing around until you’re both breathless and momentum spins you away, or just running around the area if it’s empty, and the air that will rush into your faces feels so cool and crisp, and for a moment, you feel like everything will be okay 

on the way back home, jeongin always walks you back to the bakery or your apartment, whichever you need to stop at

he says it’s because he likes spending time with you, but you also know it’s because he likes making sure you’re safe and feel comfortable, and because he worries

“jeongin, can you sing me a song?” you murmur into his ear as the two of you are walking 

you don’t really know why you asked, you just really felt like hearing him sing for some reason.  jeongin’s voice is really pretty, and you don’t know, maybe you’re just a little sad that you both have to go home and wait for next friday to have a night like this 

surprisingly jeongin doesn’t resist?  he doesn’t put up any fight or tease you about it, he just smiles at you and does what you ask 

his voice is so pretty in person 

when you lace your arm with his and lean your head against his shoulder, you can hear the laugh in his voice and the way his tone brightens as his smile widens 

jeongin pauses to look at you again when the scenery and buildings start to get a little more familiar, “i wish these nights lasted forever.”

“i thought you didn’t like hanging out with me,” you tease

“i don’t,” jeongin says simply, “i just like your food”

and then after dodging your half-hearted hair ruffles, he shakes his head and shrugs.  “no, i love hanging out with you.  can you just ... promise me we’ll always have this?”

you’re confused

because you don’t really understand why he’s so concerned about this 

but you nod and smile at him.  “promise”

jeongin looks very relieved 

and just before you reach your apartment, jeongin tugs on your hand and drops a shell into your palms

it’s that one shell from before, the cream one with the spiral. and as you look closer, there’s a little tinge of rose pink on the inside, and it feels so smooth

“i had fun today,” jeongin says, and he smiles at you impishly. “bye” 

you feel so soft, because jeongin’s always so sweet to you 

and you don’t think twice before you’re running over to him and giving him the biggest hug 

that’s when you hear it.  you freeze, clutching the shell so tightly in your palm

“i like you so much”

and really, you don’t think jeongin means to say it at all, because the way he breathed out those words was so quiet and filled with awe, and if you’re being even more honest, he sounded really small and ... sad

“what?”

when jeongin realizes what he’s said, he immediately panics and flushes

he starts stumbling over his words and is so mortified.  he starts apologizing and tries to disappear in his stance, a really sad frown crossing his features

but you just step forward and cradle his face in your palms, and you’re sure your eyes are heart eyes

“i like you too, jeongin. so much.”

and the gentle smile that slowly starts to tug at jeongin’s lips is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen

- - 

continue on your journey?

[cinnella]

Name: Syro Beeks (chosen name); Nehal Desai (birth name)

Age: 24 years old

Sex: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Zodiac sign: Leo

Birthday: August 4th

Patron Arcana: Strength (Major); King of Wands (Minor)

Occupation: Combat specialist/magician

Height: 6'5" (1.95 m)

Weight: 227 lbs (102 kg)

Relatives:

Neith Desai - older sister

Aditi Desai - mother (deceased)

Dipankar Desai - father (deceased)

Banhi Desai - grandma (deceased)

Origin: Born on the biggest Pearl Isle of Prakra, grew up in Vesuvia

Race: Indian

Powers: Red (combat) magic and pyrokinesis

Intelligence Level: On a scale from 1 to 10, he's a solid 6.7

Backstory:

He'd been born on a very rainy day, his mother unexpectedly delivering him 1 month prematurely. His parents hadn't decided a name for him yet, so they let Neith do that instead. And looking outside the window at the pouring rain, she named him Nehal, which means exactly that.

About a year later, his parents who were mountain climbers, decided to go on a trip to the Clouded Mountains. They left their kids with their grandma, Banhi, as she wished them good luck in the mountains.

A week had passed when Banhi received news from someone who'd been on the ship with their parents. Unfortunately, while they were climbing the mountains, a storm came and threw them off balance together with a multitude of other people. Only a few of them survived.

With no one else to take care of them, Banhi made it her goal to raise her grandchildren as her own.

One day, while she went out to the market with them, to buy groceries, little Nehal was sleeping soundly in a basket, until Banhi put it down and woke him up. Both her and Neith had their attention on the vendor, so he crawled out of it and away. By the time they noticed, he was out of sight.

They searched and searched and called out to him, but to no avail. He was in someone else's arms, heading towards a new home.

Not much later, he was brought to an orphanage far away from home, in Vesuvia. There, he grew up alongside many other children and the caretakers, though he didn't really have friends. Most of the kids were mean and oftentimes bullied him for his shortness. But then a new kid came in, and stepped up to defend him from them. At first, he thought of it to be foolish.

She was even shorter than him. Small frail body, porcelain skin and black hair, and what stood out the most was her differently colored eyes. There must've been something scary about her, because the kids stopped their bullying.

That day, they became each other's first friend, and he learned that her name was Saiya, but warned him not to call her that. She hated her name. Soon, they advanced to best friends. Everything they did, they did together. Mostly mischief.

The caretakers soon realized that most of the kids had no names, and even when they named them, there was a lot of confusion and many unhappy children. So they decided to teach them to read and write when they were old enough, and on their 7th birthday, they'd let them choose a name themselves.

When he was only 5, a third kid entered their little circle. She'd declared that her name was Eris. She had sun-kissed skin, silver white hair and ice blue eyes, and as young as Nehal was, he couldn't help but get a little crush on her. The three of them became very close, almost inseparable.

Once Saiya's birthday rolled around, she changed her name to Morana, and soon enough, his own birthday came too.

And so, Nehal Desai became Syro Beeks.

Around that week, two new kids joined their troublemaking group. Both were a little under two years younger than him, one with ash blond hair and silver eyes, the other with dark skin and jade green eyes.

Syro couldn't have asked for a better family. Years and years passed by in a blur, every day a new day to do more mischief. And as he approached his teen years and 6'3 in height, heartbreaking news came with them.

The adults made it clear that when they'd turn 17, they'd need to search for a home of their own. Him and the others talked about it, each of them wanted to try and find their homeland, their relatives.

And Eris was the first to leave. They were all saddened to see her go, but they knew she had to find her family.

A year later, Morana was next, but he was not about to let her go on her own. They always did everything together, after all. As heartbreaking as it was to leave the other two, Calyx and Libelle, they had to leave.

Their first stop was the Southern Spines, but much to their disappointment, they discovered nothing of her family. Then, they traveled across the land once more and took a ship towards the biggest Pearl Isle of Prakra, where one of the adults had found him.

Although he didn't know the place in the slightest, it was like his heart was calling to him, leading him. A couple of hours later, Syro came face to face with a woman.

Pink hair, indigo eyes and the same skin complexion he had. The same strong nose, plump lips and powerful jaw. Undeniably, they must have been related. But what clicked to him was her height. It's not everyday you meet someone who is almost as tall as you are.

She burst into tears and whispered his name... Probably his birth name, as she hugged him. As awkward as it was for him, the hug felt right.

The woman asked for them to follow her to her home and explain everything. There, Syro found out her name was Neith and that she was his older sister. He didn't quite believe it, until she pulled out a painted picture Banhi had done of them so many years ago, a 9 years old Neith holding her baby brother, who had jet black hair and magenta eyes just like him.

Many more hours passed, and both Morana and Syro decided to spend a few days with Neith. When they left, he promised to visit her when he had the time.

Once again in Vesuvia, he focused on learning to fight. It was something he'd wanted to do ever since he was little, but never found the time for that. Later on, he learnt to incorporate magic into it, becoming a skilled fighter and magician all the same.

When the Red Plague washed over them, he fleed together with Morana, Calyx and Libelle, but the latter two took to their own path, splitting in pairs. Eris refused to leave, for whatever reason.

They were heartbroken to learn that she'd died, and until then, they hadn't realized she was their anchor, their bridge. He remained with Morana, and the other two stayed with each other.

3 years later, he came back to Vesuvia after Libelle contacted him about Eris possibly living. He of course, didn't believe it in the slightest until he saw her alive and well, walking the streets of Vesuvia. But she didn't recognize him.

He met Asra that day too, who explained to him what happened and warned him about the consequences of trying to bring back her memories.

When she was assigned on late Count Lucio's case to catch his murderer, he volunteered to help her with the on-ground investigation, as it could be very dangerous.

That's how he met Julian.

And soon fell in love with him.

Personality: stubborn, flirty, adventurous, reckless, respectful, polite, self-less, aggressive, competitive, destructive, playful, sarcastic, loyal, sincere, open-minded, pessimistic, a little childish and a tease

Interesting facts:

Although he's very fond of any sun-themed objects, he hates heat. He prefers cold weather.

The scars on his arm are from a bear attack that happened while in the Southern Spines, and he also has one in his left palm.

Unlike the others who are mainly right-handed, he's left-handed. It's why he crosses his arms that way.

Never flinches at bitter or sour tastes, nor at strong alcoholic beverages, he actually likes them.

In total, he has 15 piercings. 5 in each ear, 1 on the right side of his nose, 1 in his right eyebrow, 2 in his lower lip and one in his tongue.

His first kiss was Eris. (And vice versa)

He got the sun-moon tattoo on his cheekbone when he was 15.

He has a second tattoo on his chest, of two entwined snakes.

Loves jewelry with a passion, he cannot go a day without at least wearing a ring.

Appearance: Umber skin tone, shoulder-length wavy jet black-blue hair, magenta eyes, inverted triangle body shape with a strong build

Familiar: Cynthia, a kind and sweet rainbow boa

Voice claim: Chace Crawford

Full sprite:

HERE HE IS, EVERYONE'S FAVORITE BUFFY SWEETHEART!!!

I didn't realize just how much more complicated his design would be compared to Eris' until I got down to actually design it.

But boy am I proud!! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

SHOW MY BOY SOME LOVE, PLEASE!!

Edit: I forgot to add his scars.. T-T

[downwiththeficness]

A Need So Great-Chapter 17

Summary: Eva Moore is assigned to work the last year of her contract with the DEA in Colombia. She just wants to get to the end of her tenure, but she keeps getting drawn further into a string of murders in the city. It isn’t long before she’s forced to face the ghosts of her past.

Word Count: ~3,700

Warnings: None

A/N: For the purposes of this story, Carrillo isn’t married--or, if you like, divorced. A/B/O dynamics are prevalent, and they come with their own warning. The overall rating for this story is Explicit, although not every chapter will contain adult themes.

Taglist: @dirtynerdy98 @1zashreena1 @heresathreebee @deliciouslyclassytrash @maybege @kid-from-new-zealand @clydesducktape @revolution-starter @autumnleaves1991-blog @jedi-mando @buckysalefty @anaeve

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 8.5, 9, 10, 10.5, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18, 19, 20, 21

They punished him when he got back. He’d been gone for almost two weeks—twelve days—and they took it out on him the second he returned. His work hours lengthened until he was leaving before the sun came up and coming home after midnight. Sometimes he’d key into her apartment, falling into bed next to her with his uniform still on, boots kicked off next to the door.

Eva kept food wrapped in plastic in the fridge for him, pulled his belt free from the loops and at least got his button up off when he was too tired to do it for himself. When she did see him, on the occasions he set foot in the embassy, there were dark circles under his eyes.

Still, he didn’t complain. Not one word. Eva’s own workload had grown, having to pick up all the things that had been sitting on her desk. But, Javier and Steve had taken it upon themselves to do a little when they could. Connie would sometimes bring her lunch and they would chat, Eva having to forgo their usual work out nights until she got caught up.

And still, he seemed to just...take it from them. This went on for almost a month before she said anything. The conversation had been short, brusque in a way that he normally wasn’t, the stress peeking out from behind strained eyes. She didn’t say anything after that.

Eva gave him comfort where she could. She set the coffee maker to an earlier time and made sure that he had a travel mug sitting beside it every morning. She washed the uniforms he sometimes left behind, even going so far as to iron his undershirt and fold it neatly atop the pile on the dresser. This was about the extent of her ability to help and it ate at her.

After the first month, he got a day off and spent most of it asleep, or close to it. He’d crawled in next to her after showering, pulling her into his chest before dropping off into unconsciousness. When she’d woken the next day, he was still asleep.  When she checked in with him mid-morning, he was snoring softly, one arm reaching across the bed to the place where she’d been.

Finally, when lunchtime slipped by, Eva roused him and forced him to come out and eat a little. He did so mechanically, his eyes unfocused. She maneuvered him to lay on the couch after that, pulling all the curtains in her living room closed, the TV at a low volume.

They spent most of the day like this, vegetating on the couch. And then, when the evening came, Eva put more food in him and sent him to bed early while she worked on a few files she’d brought home from the office. The next morning, he’d gone in early, as he had to the month previous, and she didn’t see him for three days.

This went on for another month before the higher ups started to let off. By that time, he’d been worked nearly to the ground and she could see the beginning of burn out start to set in. Eva encouraged him to rest on the days he had off, doing what she could to bring back the determined set of his jaw when he went about his work.

And, when he seemed to come back to his normal self, she set up a dinner at a nice restaurant with Connie and Steve. They worked in tandem to keep the conversation from flowing back into office talk, but weren’t entirely successful.

“I got those photos developed,” Steve said a little too casually. “I have ‘em if you want to take a look.”

Connie took a disdainful sip of her wine, “I told him not to bring them, but he insisted.”

Eva looked at Horacio, who was carefully gauging her reaction. With a shrug, she reached over the table and flicked her fingers at him, indicating that he should hand them over. He leaned down and pulled a manila folder from where he’d stashed it under his chair. Eva took it from him, opening it and pulling out the photos.

She felt her jaw lock with the effort it took to control her face. The first photo was of her, standing in the airport, looking lost. She flipped to the next: moving in. Then, her walking from the parking lot into the embassy, her sitting at a park after her first day staring into the middle distance, and her talking with Javier as they walked on a sidewalk—a conversation she’d forgotten about. That’s when things started to get interesting.

The next photo pictured her standing next to her car down the street from that little hotel, Horacio leaning over her. His expression looked frustrated. She was smiling. Next, the two of them in a similar position after the bar fight, mid motion as he’d pushed her against her car. Then, her and Connie laughing outside of the gym, sweaty and glowing in the streetlights.

After that came the moment outside of the bombed restaurant, smoke everywhere, Horacio hovering over her. Out of context, it was a stunningly captured image. They looked utterly alone, his concern for her written all over his face. She was holding him by his forearm, chin tilted up a bit, her hair falling in haphazard curls, haloed around her.

Eva stared at it a moment longer before she flipped to the next one. More of her and Connie, sitting on a low wall, eating. Her arguing with Javier on the steps of the church. Her and Horacio sitting on that bench across the street, his hand trailing down her arm, eyes wandering to the hem of her skirt. Another of him kissing her at her door after dropping her off from one of their early dates.

And then she was standing in the street, staring her ex mother in law down. A little out of focus behind her, Horacio was standing by the table with his arms crossed. Eva stared at the picture for a moment longer than the rest, feeling her lip curl. That woman was still living, and possibly already figured out that Zero had been unsuccessful—possibly was already contacting another contractor to finish the job. That would need to be dealt with eventually.

The final photo was taken a few days before she’d been called to examine Zero’s final warning. She was walking hand in hand with Horacio, they were in a busy farmer’s market, picking out a few things to cook up for dinner. Eva was looking up at him as he talked with a vendor, her eyes so full of emotion that she felt herself blush even looking at it. She looked like a woman in love, a thing that Eva had never thought would be something she would have.

Very carefully, Eva slipped the photos back into the folder and set it aside, “Thank you for doing that.”

Steve nodded, his eyes dropping to the glass in his hand, “At least its over now.”

She sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

The ride back to Horacio’s house was quiet. Eva glanced at him periodically, could tell that he was deep in thought. She clutched the folder of photos in her lap, unsettled. It wasn’t until she was taking her make up off in the mirror of the bathroom that he finally broached the subject he’d been contemplating all night.

Standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, he watched her wash her face, “We do need to address it.”

Eva looked at him in the mirror as she turned off the water, “Address what?”

“The fact that there is likely another hitman already contracted to kill you,” he said matter of factly.

Eva drew in a breath, glad that he hadn’t taken too awful long to decide to have this conversation. She didn’t know how fast Myra would move, but the woman was not known for her patience, or her mercy. It was extremely likely that they had contacted a new guy to finish the job.

She wiped her face off with a towel, “I know. I’ll think of something sooner or later.”

His mouth thinned, eyes narrow, “How can you be so calm?”

Setting the towel on the counter, Eva stepped up to him, placing her hands on his chest, “I have spent almost my entire life with people doing things to me that are completely out of my control. Maybe I’m used to it.”

Walking him back, she sat him down on the bed and kissed his brow. Turning, she reached behind her and tugged down the zipper of her dress, pulling it off while she searched for a sleep shirt to wear.

“This is serious, Eva. Your life is in danger.”

She laughed as she unclasped her bra and threw on the shirt. He very likely did not know how much of a hypocrite he was being in that moment.

“What?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Eva fixed him with a sardonic look, “I’m not the only person in this room with a bounty on their head, Horacio.”

His eyes looked away, “That’s different.”

“How?” she exclaimed, incredulous.

“I’m a police officer working to dissemble a cartel.”

He stood, hands on his hips, mouth curling. Eva felt her inside harden up, unbowed by his fierce look.

“And I’m a felon and former drug trafficker. I can’t escape this, I cannot walk away from it. You have a choice.”

He was already shaking his head, “I don’t.”

Eva stepped up to him, taking his hands, “You do. You can walk away. Retire. Spend some time at the cabin by the ocean. Fucking relax in public places. All of these things you can do. You just have to make the choice to do them.”

For the first time since she’d met him, Horacio looked unsteady. He was looking her with so many conflicting emotions that Eva couldn’t quite parse them out. Sensing that this might be the time to have the other conversation that she’d been keeping to herself for the last few weeks, she soldiered on.

“This job is going to kill you,” she whispered, voice low and rough, “I can’t stand to watch that happen.”

His mouth parted, “We have guards, protocols-,”

She cut him off, “That’s not what I’m talking about. Have you seen yourself these last few months? Did you see what I saw? They’re going to drive you into the ground.”

Horacio blinked, “Its difficult for everyone.”

“No,” she bit out, her hands tightening on his, “You’ve had maybe three days off since we got back. You’ve hardly slept, you’re not eating regularly, you’re so stressed I can literally smell it coming off you.”

Gently, she thumbed the skin beneath his scent gland. His eyes drooped a little, jaw loosening from where he’d been holding it so tightly. Settling into his body, Eva held him to her, trying to convey her worry, her concern for him.

“You want me to walk away from my career? Everything I’ve worked to build?” His voice was on the edge of anger, and Eva fought the urge to back up, to relent to him.

“I want the same thing that I think you want for me,” she murmured, “I want you to live. Really live. You can’t do that if you don’t make some changes. Take that one foot out of the darkness.”

He sighed deeply, dropping his head into the crook of her neck and embracing her, “Its late. We’re both tired. Let’s table this for now.”

Afraid that she’d push him too far if she pressed on, Eva nodded and stepped away to crawl onto the bed. She watched him undress and climb in next to her. After turning off the lamp on the nightstand, he settled into the pillows, taking her hand and kissing it. She drifted off with that solid connection between them.

The next few days were dusted with sporadic conversations about an intangible future. The end of Eva’s contract loomed, now four weeks away. She went to work every day, knowing that it was one less day she would be required to be there. And then something weird happened.

She’d been pulled into a meeting. She’d been censured for continuing to perform field work, outside of the scope of her contract. And then they’d told her that they were cutting it short and to clean out her desk. She’d have two weeks to get her personal items out of the apartment rented for her by the department. Eva couldn’t help the little sneer on her face as she watched Vanessa happily deliver the news.

She couldn’t keep her desk past the end of the day, had been given a box to put her belongings in. Eva had done so mechanically, putting the box of little personal items into her car and returning for her purse, still sitting on that shitty desk Steve had pointed out to her all those months ago. On the way out, she stood under an awning, looking out to the parking lot, confused and feeling just a tiny bit...sad.

A boot scuffed behind her and Eva looked over her shoulder to see Javier standing not far away, his fingers drumming on his leg.

“I guess you heard,” she said, a small smile on her lips.

Javier nodded, reaching up to pluck the cigarette from behind his ear, his other hand already holding a lighter.

“Its strange,” Eva continued on, “I think I’m actually going to miss it.”

He nodded again, not speaking. Eva frowned, gesturing at him as if to say ‘what’s the deal?’

Javier took a drag off the stick in his hand, “Let’s go to lunch.”

Without further explanation, he grabbed her by the elbow and started walking with her. His stride was quick, firm, determined.  His expression was closed. Eva felt her stomach drop with anxiety as she followed along.

“Okay,” Eva drawled in a false attempt at bravado, hustling to keep up with him in her heels, “What is this about?”

“Not here,” he murmured, steering her to his car.

It wasn’t until they were both ensconced in their seats and the engine had turned over that he said anything.

“We’re gonna meet Carrillo at a little out of the way dive just outside the city. I’ve been digging into your contract for a couple weeks and wanted to tell you both.”

Interesting.

Eva’s brows lifted, “What did you find?”

“Let’s wait until we get to the place, I’ll tell you everything then.”

They did, indeed, drive just outside of the city to a little hole in the wall place with what looked like only one waiter. At Javier’s direction, he led them to the back of the main room, through the kitchen, down a hall, and into a basement. Eva stood at the top of the steps, feeling just a little bit like she was walking into a trap.  She looked at Javier’s back as he descended, looked at the waiter, then sighed and stepped down.

It smelled a little bit musty, and there was only a single light hanging from the ceiling. But, a table had been set up with a few chairs. It even had a tablecloth.

“Well,” she commented, because she needed to talk or she was going to start freaking out, “This is certainly the strangest going away lunch I’ve ever had.”

Javier rolled his eyes and sat heavily in one of the chairs, “Have a seat. They’ll bring us some coffee.”

Eva sat, looping her purse strap over the top of the chair, “Is Horacio on his way?”

He nodded, “Should be here any minute.”

She stared him down, looking for clues as to what this was all about. He hadn’t brought a file, he didn’t even have that little notebook he sometimes carried with him. All he had was his wallet (currently wearing through the fabric of his jeans), his gun (tucked in the back of his waistband), his cigarettes (slipped into the breast pocket of his short-sleeved button up), and his lighter (twirling between the forefinger and thumb of his right hand).

The door at the stairs opened and Carrillo’s heavy steps sounded, a slow, measured thump. Eva folded her hands in her lap and waited until he ducked down to scan the room. He was wearing his uniform, gun at his hip, the first few buttons of his shirt undone so that a little of his undershirt peeked out.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he approached and sat down, “Had to make a few calls.”

“Not a problem,” Javier responded, “I almost didn’t catch Eva before she headed out.”

Eva scratched at the skin above her brow, “Does anyone want to tell me what this is about?”

Javier leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, “I did a little research on you.”

“This again?” Eva bit out, feeling a hot anger bubbled up from where is had laid simmering since she’d walked out of that meeting.

Hand up, he indicated for her to wait, “More than just your work history. More than your prison stint. I know a guy who knows a guy, who pulled your file—your actual file. I got a copy of your contract, and I managed to dig up some interoffice mail between Vanessa and some shady people.”

“Okay?”

He leaned forward on his forearms, “There’s a few expense forms that were incomplete, but paid out anyways. Expense forms for plane tickets for, Vladimir Prost—a known alias of Alexei Volkov, according to an FBI friend of mine—w ith a hotel voucher for the same name.”

Eva’s eyes narrowed, her brain circling around the information and coming out on the other side feeling her anxiety spike.

To her left, Carrillo added, “I went to the hotel, pulled a few of their records.  He stayed there for months, Eva.”

She crossed her legs, trying to keep her body more still, “I told you that he had, the pictures proved that he had. The question is why Vanessa, why the DEA, was footing the bill.”

Javier shook his head, “That’s the thing, they weren’t. The forms weren’t standard DEA—very close, but not quite the same.”

She blinked, “You’re saying they were doctored.”

“I’m saying they were doctored,” Javier confirmed with a sharp nod.

Carrillo looked at her solemnly, “I paid off a few administrators where she banks, tracked her bank statements and accounts for the last two years and cross referenced them with the forms Javier found. There are several large deposits close to the dates on the forms from a company our of Louisiana, Ardent Pharmaceuticals. That name familiar to you?”

Eva could feel the blood drain from her face, “That’s the company name for the Moore family’s business front.”

“Well,” Javier commented with a little shrug, “They’ve gone straight with a lot of their stuff. They’re a leader in the field of suppressant therapy.”

“I’m sure they are,” Eva sneered, eyes cutting to the side as she thought about those three syringes gleaming on that table.

“Eva,” Carrillo prompted lowly, “Do you understand what we’re telling you?”

She looked at him, “That my early release, my contract, all the work I’ve done, the shitty boss I’ve had, and my entire professional career is a big set up to keep me contained and under the thumb of my former mother in law so that she can eventually corral me into a corner and murder me? That sound close enough?”

“I know you’re mad,” Javier said, catching her eye, “But we’ve got to think smart about this.”

“Smart?” Eva hissed, her voice high, “You’re telling me to be smart? Everything I’ve done under this contract is a lie and you’re telling me to be smart?”

He made a soft sound of comfort, “You can be mad about that—hell, I’m mad about it—but, you can’t react from that anger.”

“How am I supposed to react?”

“With cunning,” Carrillo answered, and she could tell that he’d already made a plan. “I looked at the contract, the end date is set in stone. Did you get a formal letter of release?”

Eva nodded, reaching into her purse and handing it to him. He read it over quickly before handing it to Javier.

“Good,” he said, “That saves you from the DEA asserting that you broke the contract. Now, I’ve still got a hand in Vanessa’s accounts.  For the near future, that’s going to be our best bet for tracking when the next hit will come.”

Javier handed the release letter back to Eva, “I also made a call to one of my contacts at the IRS. He’s going to call for an audit of the Ardent books, which should tie up some of their funding for the next few months, at least.”

Eva shook her head, “If they’re still using my system, then they won’t find anything.  All their off the books transactions are buried under layer after layer of red tape and false company names.”

Javier leaned forward, “Can you lay out that system for me? So I can send it to them?”

She nodded, “I can do that.”

“Okay, that’ll work. I’ll fax that over to him and that might help speed things along. Eva?”

“Yeah,” she croaked.

“We need you to go about your life as usual. Go pack up your apartment, buy a ticket back to the states, do whatever you think will need to be done so that no one knows you’re onto them.”

Her brows drew together, “You want me to go back to the states?”

Carrillo put a hand on her arm, “We want it to look like you’re going back. We need to buy some time, until we hear back from our contacts.”

Staring into the middle distance, Eva processed the conversation, running over the information a second time and coming out just as angry, if not more so. She was quiet so long that the two men at the table began to fidget.

“Eva?” Javier edged.

She swallowed, then sighed, “Are we actually going to eat at this ‘lunch’? I’ve only had coffee today and I’m starving.”

[anotherbeingsworld]

Bounded by the words.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC (Casey Valentine)

Summary: A momento from a patient lead to a new hobby for Casey, as it records the moment of their relationship. 

A/N: It was an impulsive reaction, but.. I wanted to post something and this has been in my drafts for months. I actually have submitted this before, and I am posting this again since it is edited much better than before. Today is the 25th and, honestly... it is a hard date for me in a way. So, I am coping it with fics unfortunately, but... I wanted to post it for a while now and I had shown it to @bratzlahela​ before she went on hiatus; and nikka, this is for you and i miss you soo much ! This is a love letter AU which had been in my drafts for months now. I am also dedicating this fic to @mrs-raleighcarrera​ as a thanks for everything,  <3 I have something planned later, I hope I manage to start it but... enjoy. 💜     (I noticed... my love for letters can be shown.. I am so sorry ;;) 

Tags:  @bitchloveskcbaseball​ , @storyofmychoices​ @jaxsmutsuo​ , @mvalentine​ , @princess-geek​ , @lahellacute​ ,  @this-person-is-busy​ , @annekebbphotography​ , @mrsbhandari​ , @dcbbw​ , @choicessa​ , @choices-confessions​ ,@fantasyoverreality98​ , @baltersome​ , @ofpixelsandscribbles​ , @thundergom​  @starrystarrytrouble​,  @kelseaaa​  ,@bratzlahela​ , @choicesficwriterscreations​  , @lalizah​ , @drethanramslay​ , @arcticlumineer​ , @choicesstan1​ , @aveeiro​ , @eleanorbloom​ , @openheartfanfics , @brycesgirl​  , @rookitcarrera​ (if you want to be removed or added, let me know 💜)

MY MASTERLIST

Casey is assigned to take care of 19-year old, Brianna who is diagnosed with a Gastroenteritis. As she walks in the room, Brianna was burying herself into a book. She smiled at the sight, as she tries to remember the last time she gets a chance to read a book herself. The title on the book caught her attention, with the minimalistic cover that certainly calms her eyes. ‘Bounded by The Words.’ The title says.

“Bounded by the words?” Casey said to capture her attention.

Brianna startled, as she drops the book down to her lap. Her eyes widen as she saw Casey there grinning at her.

“You scared me!” Brianna stated as she places her hands over her beating heart whilst Casey walks towards her.

“I’m sorry Bri, you looked like you were drowning in the book. I had to save you somehow.” She winks at her, as a smile appear on Brianna’s face.

“Ha ha ha, very funny doc.”

“So, what is the story about making you drowned in the pages?” Casey asked as she checks on her vitals.

“It’s a story of two lovers..”

“Typical.”

“Hey, I am talking here!”

“Alright, alright my lady.” Casey bows as she lets herself have fun with her.

“As I was saying, it is a story of two lovers who was bounded by a series of letters. They never really got a chance to see each other face-to-face as the man is apart of the world war before. Their communication only relies on letters, handwritten letters that caused their love to grow each day. Unfortunately, neither of them got their happy ending as the man sacrificed himself into the war leaving her a thousand letters behind as a reminder that he will always be there for her…” Brianna wipes a tear as she describe the book.

“Oh wow… that is really sad.” Casey felt her heart break a little from hearing Brianna talk about it.

“Yes, it is. I ended up crying every time I read it and this time is any different.”

“Can I take a look at it?” Casey asks her as she immediately pass the book to her.

“Maybe you should hold onto it, as a momento for taking care of me and keeping me company.” Brianna said with a small smile plastered on her face.

Casey’s eyes widen,

“It’s your favourite book Bri…”

“Don’t worry, I have a few more copies of it at home! You should keep it and maybe try read it at your free time. I know doctors don’t have much time to rest, so consider it as a self-care gift from your favourite patient, which is yours truly to you.” Brianna insists before Casey could return the book in her hands.

“My favourite patient? How did you guess?” Casey asked with amount of sarcasm in her voice causing both of them to break into laughter.

Both of them ended up talking for a little while, exchanging stories, a few hugs and a signature from Brianna aswell. Patients like Brianna, really reminds herself why she wanted to be a doctor in the first place. She loved helping people, saving lives, but she is also interested in knowing the stories of her patients. During her time at Edenbrook, she had met a lot of people with various backgrounds; a surfer, a lawyer who is living this world as she is. She always felt pleasure in knowing her patients, and Brianna is one of those patients that gives her the sign that she loves her job.

After finishing up her shift, Casey makes her way back to Bryce’s apartment as they often have sleepovers with one another. She makes her way to the apartment, where she was met with Keiki who was furiously typing on her (Bryce’s) computer as her brows furrowed in frustration. Casey immediately took off her coat and make her way to the couch, as Keiki perks her head up at her presence.

“What do you got there?” Keiki eyes the book she was holding as she sat down.

“It’s a gift from a patient, I think I am gonna absorb myself in some literary entertainment after those long shifts.” Casey said as she gets herself comfortable on the couch, she starts to read the book. After felt like an hour, she already had surpassed the 100th page.

The door opening pulled her out from the zone, as Bryce finally arrived from the hospital. Casey turn her head to the sound, and smiled as she saw him. Casey stands and give him a kiss on the cheek, guiding him to the couch where Keiki is still on the computer looking more ease than before.

“So, what did you guys do today?” Bryce asked as he placed an arm around Casey pulling her close to him.

“I am trying to finish up this darn assignment, and its just so hard! Why did I take computer science?” Keiki whined as Bryce lets out a small laugh.

“What did you do today Cas?” Bryce turns his gaze to her, as both of their eyes meet.

Casey smiled as she shows the book to Bryce.

“Bounded by the words? It sounds like a cliché rom-com if you ask me.” Bryce said as his eyes are on the book.

“Hey, I am a hopeless romantic and this book managed to play with my heartstrings!” Casey protested as she held the book like her life depends on it.

“Okay, okay…Enlighten me, tell me what is the interesting scenario you have come across in the book?” Bryce challenge her with a wink.

“Their entire love story consists of letters, and they never met yet they still love one another…” Casey felt herself gaze as she placed a dreamy look on her face as Bryce just shook his head.

“Whatever makes you sleep at night Cas.” He says as he placed a kiss to bring her back towards reality.

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

Casey suddenly felt herself to be inspired from the book, as she felt her heart hold on to the concept of writing love letters. It is midnight, as Casey felt herself feeling awake. She slowly makes her way out of Bryce’s hold as he was sleeping peacefully. She puts on one of Bryce’s shirts and heads out to the living room. She sat down on the floor, with a box full of stuff contains, coloured paper and a huge amount of pens. She smiles, as she proceeds.

My dearest Anastasia,

The darkened days had now befallen us, the roared of the enemy unmistakable. Where it’d be my last sacrifice in the name of thy country. The time has come for me to filled in my word, as I would let myself be pained from the death that followed me every day. Regrets washed over me, as this letter would be the final reminder, where life with you made it very much better. The warmth of your touch can still be felt, as our farewell was playing in my mind for the longest time, a needed farewell that kept me awake on one of these days, longing to be in your touch again. But, even in the depths of the darkest roads, you will always be in thy heart. Forever, and always.

Love,

Roland.

The one that started it all, the final letter of Roland Rosio to his long last love, Anastasia Luvielle as their love continues to grow even after the death of Rosio during the final battle. The inspiration that started it all.

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Dear Bryce,

It is our first date together despite the hundreds of times we went and spend our nights at Donahue. It is when we are, something. Something beautiful, as one would say it. The 21st night of September, was a date to remember; our first night out as something more. As a kid, I always imagined myself going to the ball with my very own Prince, as we dance the night away.

But, in this case… they were no prince, a dress, a castle, a glass slipper, heck there aren’t any pumpkins involved in the beginning of our story. It was a story of clumsiness, fairy lights and a whole platter of fries. An interesting combination one might say, as it started with grace and ended with a bag of loaded fries from a small vendor.

It was unique, as you told me your jokes as I would find myself getting red, as the sight of your sweet and smiley face. The way we danced around the circle, as the fairy lights were hanging above us, has been a permanent attachment in my mind.

Lights, Fries and Bryce? A perfect combination.

Love,

Casey.

The first of many has been recorded, as she slips it into a box. A small box which is going to be playing a huge role in her life moving forward. Bryce stops himself in his tracks, admiring the smile on her face before moving towards the living room. The memory of their days together, playing in his mind.

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Dear Bryce,

I don’t know where to start, I miss you. I miss everything about you and, I don’t know how long I can do this anymore . I always wondered why couples would fight over the littlest things and, I hoped that the fate won’t fall down to us, but…I was wrong. It felt like a downfall, and I regret yelling those words at you. You were never a burden, you were the light and I don’t know how I haven’t met you before. My life had changed with you, and it has change again, and… I miss you. I miss everything about you, your hugs, your silly jokes, the way you’d talk at the movies despite being shush away by the audience, especially you. I miss being able to hug you when I was happy, and…I am going to make this right.

Love, Casey.

The first fight, as there were words left unspoken. One of many that made were stained with her tears, as the sadness took over. Her life was different with Bryce, and she didn’t give up. She tried and tried, and tried and try again until one day, she did it right. Neither did he.

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Dear Bryce,

I can’t believe our time has come, we are finally getting married tomorrow! It is a common feeling of excitement to be a bride, and I am very excited for our adventure next. I always felt like you were the one with the huge benefit in doubt in myself, the day we meet in that locker room at Edenbrook. The first time I laid my eyes on you, it felt like I was going to meet a stereotypical male from a rom-com, but… you are different. A good type of different, you have been there for me since the very beginning.

You have seen through it all, and I am very lucky to be apart of your life. You have always been my number one support through the highs and the lows, and I am always going to be grateful for everything we have been through that lead us to this very moment. I am excited for our new beginning, I will see you soon.

Love,

Casey.

The day they become as one, where Casey Valentine and Bryce Lahela finally tied the knot after all these years. A new adventure awaits them, as a whole new life is looking them with a wide-smile. The ceremony was intimate, as all of their close friends and family members were invited. They got married at one of his favourite places, the beach. As they finally got their happily ever after.

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Dear Bryce,

I did it. WE DID IT! After all these years, we did it. I am finally pregnant, after all the negatives. We did it, and you are going to be a dad! I remember those days, you were telling me about teaching our  kid surfing, and silently hoping they will follow your footsteps. Our dreams have been granted, and I am truly ecstatic! The feeling of being a parent had lingered on my mind since early on, and… I am beyond grateful to be on this journey with you.

Baby Lahela is 3 months strong, mommy and daddy can’t wait to see you soon. I can’t wait for all of the new memories we are going to make together. We love you daddy!

Love,

Casey.

After a few years of marriage, and trying… they finally did it. Both of them starting a new adventure with their little bundle of joy, the first adventure with the little Lahela. And, they were very excited for it.

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‘Dad, what is these letters?�� Louis asked in fascination, as he finished reading one of Casey’s letters after all these years.

A smile appeared on his face, remembering the memories from years ago. The day Casey starts to become obsessed over a piece of literature that changed their lives one way or another.

‘Mom loves to write letters, and these is all of hers. She writes it every time we are happy, sad, angry and everything in between. I never understood the purpose of it all, and your mother tends to get emotional over the littlest things and, she still managed to blow me away every time…’ He lets out a sigh, rereading the final letter in the pile. It was written a few days ago.

Dear Bryce,

We have been through it all, am I right? It has been 25 or maybe more years, since our first meeting and I can’t believe it has been that long. We have done an amazing job together, and I am very very proud of what we had achieved all these years. You have been an amazing dad to our little ones, who is not so little anymore. Our little Louis, is our astronomer now, I still remember the first time we were giving him a bath, he was a quiet baby but with a lot of determination and a gold heart, just like his father. Our little girls Kailani and Alexandra, has managed to follow in our footsteps, even though we warned them about the stress and pressure of med school along with warnings from our dear friends, and I can’t believe they did it. They were always so smart, and I can’t say how proud of I am of our little angels. Bryce, you have been my rock, my best friend, my lover, my partner and… I will always cherish you in my heart. You are the first person who never gave up on me, and… life with you, has been the best chapter in my life. You have made me a better person, you have seen me in my lowest and you didn’t left. You were there through thick and thin, and I love you for it. I will never forget the day where we said, the three words. The day where our life started to change every day. You have given me unconditional love and care, you have made my life the way it is today. My mom, always wondered how I came across someone like you before, and I would laugh; fate brought us together and Edenbrook was the start of it all.

Unfortunately, some stories would come to an end. And, the end of mine is coming very soon; take care of the kids, and tell them that mom is very proud of them. My love, you had made me the happiest and… even in the depths of the darkest roads, you will always be in thy heart. Forever, and always.  

Yours,

Casey Lahela.

The end of the letter, the one line that started it all, as a small smiled appear on his face despite the tears falling down on his cheeks. Alexandra and Keilani made their way as they pulled Bryce into a deep hug, letting their sorrows take over breaking every façade that they had. Louis joins in too, as they stood there together, as a family. Her memories were playing in his mind, a recording of every sense from their little time together made it into the highlight as, the letters felt like a metaphor, a feeling somehow she is there with them, looking down with a huge smile. A smile of satisfaction, as a chance to finally let herself go.

‘I will always love you Casey. Forever and always.’ He whispered slowly, as their life story was flashed through his eyes which is the best moments of his life.

THE END.

[oureuphoria]

Worst of You - JJK 07

You meet him under horrible circumstances but everything feels perfect when you’re with him. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. He, however, is a police officer with years worth of built-up turmoil and an inability to make attachments. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know you’re moving in then.”

Genre: fluff, angst, comedy

Pairing: officer!jungkook X  collegestudent!reader

Word count: 3k

Note: I’m uploading TWICE tonight because I love you and I love writing and I love Jungkook.

| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 

Much to your dismay, Jungkook had started passively ignoring you. All your messages were either ignored or replied to with ‘busy’ 3 hours after he read them. Your calls when straight to voicemail and whenever you tried to arrange something he’d cancel. You knew his job was demanding but you couldn’t understand why he had no time in the past 10 days to message you back at all. Hell, you were sure he had Sundays off so when Sunday eventually came, you were positive he was avoiding you and you planned to get to the bottom of it. 

It was a Wednesday and a full week since you had failed your Dorm inspection. Your room was spotless and you kept the commons room clean however, Alex’s room was a complete mess and they found weed in her possession. She was given a 14-day notice of eviction and while you disliked her, you still felt bad. She assured you that she had family nearby and that she wasn’t planning on staying anyway. The fact that Alex couldn’t careless pushed you not to care either. 

For a short, blissful moment, you had believed that you would be peacefully alone, but someone was already arranged to take her spot and you needed to prepare yourself for the awkward tension of living with a stranger. You didn’t have time to dwell over your living arrangements, you had high schoolers to tutor. That day, the tutoring session you had ran longer than usual, 45 minutes over to be specific. You never charged overtime because you weren’t a monster but you certainly didn’t appreciate it and when the session was finally over, the overwhelming sense of relief had engulfed you.

Fighting through your tiredness, you decided against going home so you could visit Jungkook instead. You thought he wouldn’t be able to ignore you in person and boy were you wrong. When you had first approached the reception desk, you were surprised to see a younger lady, one with a much nicer smile. At first, that made you glad, the other lady, albeit efficient at her job, was standoffish and blatantly rude. However, you would soon regret every trusting that deceptively sweet smile of hers.

“How can I help you?” “Hi, I’m here to see Jungkook?” You ignored her coy smile and the way she rolled her eyes. Maybe she was having a bad day and deserved the benefit of the doubt. “What’s your name?” You stuttered when you said it which was embarrassing enough but then she called him and rather loudly stated that ‘one of your hookups was here to see you’ and when she had said your name, she let out a chuckle at his reaction. “He said he’s busy and just a piece of advice from my personal experience, if he didn’t call you back then he’s really not interested.” You’ve always been good at having a poker face although it proved useless in moments where you were severely upset and this was bordering on becoming one. However, you pushed back whatever tears were threatening to fall and gave her a curt smile. “Noted.” 

When you were finally at your dorm, you couldn’t even sleep. Instead you doodled Pokemon characters in your books and try to make sense of all that had happened. Maybe he wasn’t into you. You were emotional the day that he had confessed, maybe he just pitied you and wanted to spare the pain of rejection. You let out a frustrated sigh as you angrily crushed the paper you were drawing on, aiming it directly into your bin. 

From then on you didn’t message, call or visit Jungkook at all until Saturday night. You remember him telling you that he normally had Saturday nights off unless there was an emergency, most of the cases on those nights were just drunk brawls and people who had too much to drink. The phone rang for a bit before it abruptly stopped indicating that he had hung up on you. You told yourself that was it, the last chance you’d give him. If he wanted to talk to you, he would and evidently, he didn’t. However, forgetting about him was easier said then done which was why you found yourself walking through central park at 8pm in October.

You didn’t do much, just wandered around and stared at ducks which were rather displeased with your lack of bread. You went to a street vendor for a pretzel that was far too overpriced but you didn’t seem to care, happy enough that you had something warm in your hands. You even tried to befriend a small bird but it turned out that it just cared about your pretzel and your so-called ‘friend’ flew away the moment you had finished it. 

Realising you hadn’t checked your phone in a while, you fished it out of your pocket while seated on a park bench and much to your distaste, you had 2 missed calls from the last person you wanted to speak to. 

Jungkook was genuinely busy, that much was true, but even in the moments that he wasn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to reply to you. He grew so accustomed to worrying about no one else but himself that communicating constantly slipped his mind. He wasn’t the best replier and whenever he’d remind himself to call you back, it’d be too late in the night for you to pick up. He wasn’t good at this, he never knew what to say and once you stopped talking to him altogether he felt guilty because his first reaction was relief. He truly was an asshole and you deserved so much better which was why Jungkook had decided to let you go.

Saturday nights were usually reserved for Jungkook’s close circle of friends and their drinking habits. Jungkook normally went home with a girl and this time was no exception, in fact, he desperately needed the distraction. However, mid-way through his conversation with some random girl he had hoped to take home, you rang and he stared at his phone for a moment before hanging up. The moment his finger hit decline, he could feel guilt and regret consume him. 

You hadn’t actually meant to call Jungkook. You had meant to call back Jimin since it was awfully peculiar of him to call you at 11pm (or ever?) for no foreseeable reason but your finger had slipped and you called the person right under Jimin’s contact. Since Jungkook was the last person you called, you called Jungkook and you didn’t even notice until he picked up. You were confused at the voice which was obviously not Jimin’s so you quickly checked the caller ID only to realise it was the man who ghosted you for 2 weeks. 

Jungkook was half-naked and making out with the same girl on his bed when you called again. He forgot to put his phone on silent so the ringing persisted quite loudly. He tried to ignore it but it droned on for a bit. “Just pick it up, I’m not going anywhere.” She gave him a suggestive wink while he apologised and grabbed his phone, walking to the bathroom. “What’s up?” He breathed out in a tone that was evidently annoyed and there was a pause before you replied. “Nothing much, nice to hear from you again.” Your tone was painfully sarcastic and all Jungkook could do was sigh before replying. “Now isn’t a good time Y/N.” “It’s the only time though, right? Since you only pick up the phone once every 14 days.” 

The line went quiet for a bit which allowed you to hear a female voice in the background asking if everything was okay. You weren’t stupid, you got the hint and so you scoffed and hung up. When Jungkook checked his phone again to see that you’d hung up, he ran his hands over his face and resisted the urge to pull his hair out. He hurt you and it was in that brief moment of extreme guilt that Jungkook had realised he regretted every pushing you away. The deed was done though, so he left the bathroom and shook off his guilt. “Sorry, where were we?”

Despite your blood boiling and your fractured heart, you called Jimin back, properly this time. “Hey, Jimin what’s up?” “Hey, it’s an emergency. I need you to tutor me and I-” “No.” And with that you hung up, Jimin was the last person you wanted to spend time with and the last person you owed a favour too.

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It had been 2 weeks since you had last seen Jungkook and your birthday was in 6 days. You weren’t sure how you were going to celebrate it or if you even wanted to at all. You cleared your lessons for that day because you didn’t really feel like spending your 21st birthday with annoying high schoolers. You were still fairly upset about what happened with Jungkook. For the first time, someone showed a genuine interest in you as a person and it turned out to be a complete bust. You were undeniably heartbroken and Jimin surely didn’t fix it.

“Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” You made a sound of disgust when Jimin interrupted your once peaceful lunch. “I don’t think Alex would approve of this.” A bald faced lie, after all Alex didn’t give a shit what you did. “I don’t think she cares about me enough to approve or disapprove.” “She cried for hours when you broke up, I think she cares.” “Why would she care, she cheated on me.” Your face was tangled in confusion although it sounded like something Alex would do. What you couldn’t understand was why Alex had spread a rumour that Jimin cheated on her. “Why did you let her spread that rumour about you then?” Jimin looked at you, clearly not willing to answer but your curious gaze was undeterred so Jimin continued anyway. “If a girl cheats, she’s labeled the campus slut. If a guy cheats, he just gets praised for it. You see where I’m going here?” You smiled at the realisation that Jimin could be genuinely nice when he wanted to be. What a shocking concept. “And they say chivalry is dead.” Jimin jokingly punched your arm.

“Now, to the point, as you may already know, I’m on the verge of failing Peterson’s class and I desperately need your guidance.” You looked at him weirdly, you tutored high school kids, not students in your classes. “I really can’t help you, sorry,” Jimin whined before grabbing your arm and shaking it like a child. “Pretty please, I need to do well in this class otherwise I have to repeat it and get set a whole semester behind.” “You could just do the class during the Summer.” “Oh Y/N, you’re so funny, I don’t do Summer school, it’s not my thing.” “Maybe it should be?” “Look, I’m begging you, I need your help." You cursed yourself for your extreme sympathy because you resolve was surely wavering. “I can’t tutor you but, you can study with me and I’ll help you out.” Jimin smiled, hugging you in a painfully tight embrace. “Who would’ve thought we’d be study buddies, huh?” Your unimpressed face gave Jimin the impression that you didn’t enjoy his attempt at humour so he immediately shut up.

From that point forward, you and Jimin had unexpectedly spent a lot of time together. He was similar to Alex, only genuinely nice when they chose to be and it was soon obvious why they didn’t work out. They were too alike. In the week leading up to your birthday, you had spent a good portion of your time with Jimin. Albeit most of the time was spent revising, you had actually grown to enjoy his company and truly consider him a friend. 

Unfortunately, the morning of your birthday was a rather anti-climactic one. You didn’t feel any different than your 20-year-old self and you didn’t have any plans for the day. Except one. It was a Saturday and your new roommate was set to move in this Monday which was why you decided that you would get absolutely shit-faced on your birthday. You’d never had alcohol before, never even entered a club and you were excited to explore these things despite the fact that you hate crowded places and bitter things. It was the socially accepted protocol to get drunk on your 21st birthday and who were you to stray from tradition? 

There was a knock on your door which you responded to hesitantly. You knew it would be Jimin since you had buzzed him in but you were dreading the awkward ‘happy birthday’ interaction. “Happy Birthday, kiddo.” You let him in but kicked his shin as he stepped inside, you still hated when he called you that. “Thank you.” You were genuinely thankful in spite of your dreadful tone. It had been a long, hard week and you were simply glad it was over. 

Since Jimin had been part of your ‘friend’ group since 7th grade, he came to every single one of your birthday parties. You threw a party every year as advised by Alex and ebbed though you hated them, they always seemed to make your friends happy. Alex liked to pretend that she was being nice by helping you out but everyone just wanted an excuse to have fun. No one really bought you gifts and people barely even knew the party was for you. And like clockwork, every year, Jimin would be invited to your party and every year, he ignored you. But not this one. 

“I’m going to make up every birthday I’ve ever ruined today.” You giggled a bit out of disbelief, taking the gift that he had brought for you from his hand. “Honestly I don’t mind, I forgot about it.” You didn’t but you weren’t one to hold grudges. At least not for long. “Nope, you are going to have the best 21st birthday in the history of 21st birthdays and then you’re going to forgive me for all the bad things I’ve done and we’re going to be best friends.” You laughed even harder at his monologue, till you realised he was being serious. “Oh wow, you’re actually serious, okay.”

Jimin made you open the large gift box he got you and inside was a short, black dress that you would’ve mistaken for a skirt if not for the lacy sleeves and open back. “Jimin, thank you, it’s a gorgeous dress but you can’t seriously expect me to wear this.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. “I can’t go into the club tonight with a girl who looks like she came out of a Disney production.” You hit Jimin’s head with the box lid. “Fine, I’ll wear the stupid dress as long as you don’t complain when you have to take care of me!” He waved you off and left, assuring you he’d be back at 7pm. 

Jimin came 30 minutes early and helped you with your makeup. Your range was fairly limited since you usually kept things naturally and Jimin didn’t appreciate it. “And you call yourself a lady. Disgraceful.” Jimin also tried to make you wear your hair down but you refused consistently for at least 10 minutes before he gave in. Having your hair down was something you reserved for when you were alone. You just felt more comfortable with it up. 

You convinced Jimin to let you wear a long coat because it was cold outside and you were walking but he made you promise you’d take it off once you got into the club which was a fair condition. However, when you had seen the line you presumed you’d never make it in anyway. Jimin grabbed your hand and waltzed straight to the doors where they immediately greeted him and let him in, no questions asked. They stopped you for an ID check though to which you gladly complied and the bouncer wished you an insincere happy birthday which made you far happier than it should’ve.

When you got in Jimin pulled at your coat which you reluctantly let go of and handed it to the waiters waiting in the foyer. You’d never been to a club before but your imagination couldn’t even fathom this. It was huge. There were hundreds of people and you could feel your anxiety increasing at a riveting pace. “I want to go home.” “Not until you’re completely wasted, let’s go.” Jimin takes you straight to the bar where you both sit, you start to spin yourself on the stool childishly before Jimin abruptly stopped you, scolding you a little as if you were 10.

The bartender was busy taking a group’s order and it took a couple of glances before you realised the group was the NYPD and Jungkook was right there. “Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Jimin.” You were smacking his arm to get his attention off the menu boards and onto you. “What, child?” You told Jimin about Jungkook during one of the earlier study periods and Jimin was convinced he was actually secretly in love with you but didn’t want to put you in danger which is why he let you go. You laughed a lot at his barbaric fantasy. 

“Look, there’s Jungkook, the one in the white dress shirt.” Jimin skimmed the group and suddenly realised why you were so sure he was out of your league. He was out of everyone’s league. Broad chest and chiseled jaw. The man had an intimidating aura that was balanced out by his softer features like his eyes and lips. Jimin was amazed and he didn’t bother hiding it. “Damn, if I looked like him I’d never let myself get tied down either.” You elbowed his side, pouting angrily. “What Y/N? He’s built like a god, I’m not going to deny it.” “I know. He’s so annoyingly handsome.” Jimin hummed in agreement and after, he looked at you with a devious smile. One that usually signified trouble. “What are you plotting now, Jimin?” He smiled before bringing you closer and speaking at a more hushed tone. “Okay, we’re going to make him jealous and I’m going to prove my theory.” You shook your head rapidly.

“No, absolutely not, it won’t even work.” Jimin grabbed you by the shoulder, staring deeply into your soul. “This is your one and only chance at love you lonely child. You have to take it. If it works you owe me big time.” You cringed at his words. You’d never admit it but a part of you wanted to make him jealous, to throw a big ‘fuck you’ his way after what had happened. But you couldn’t, you didn’t want to hurt him no matter how much he’d hurt you. 

“No, but I do want one of those yellow drinks they’re so cute.” You pointed at a drink which a girl a couple seats away was drinking. “That’s way too strong and I have a feeling your alcohol tolerance is absolutely horrible.” You glared at him for a bit before beckoning the bartender. “Could I get one of those please?” She nodded dutifully with a kind smile and you stuck your tongue out at the rather shocked Jimin. 

Your drink came with fruit and you were excited about how cute it looked. “Ugh, Y/N let’s go dance.” Jimin groaned while simultaneously trying to drag your body away from the bar. “But I just got this drink. Go ahead I’ll join you when I’m done.” That was a lie. You never dance and you didn’t feel like starting. You had been infatuated with your drink despite it tasting quite bitter, it wasn’t something you couldn’t grow to like and so you continued sipping it slowly. With all of your attention fixated with the drink, it would’ve been impossible to notice Jungkook’s curious eyes. 

[unfolded73]

Husbands: Two Years In (1/5) - schitt’s creek ff

Hi, remember me? I finally wrote something new. This fic is complete, and will be posted over the course of the next two weeks. While I'm including it as part of the "Labels" series, the preceding fics are not required reading. Previous fics in this series: Boyfriends; “I Love You”, Partners, Fiancés 

Warning: This fic deals with depression as one of its major topics.

Rated Explicit, this chapter 5059 words. (ao3)

Thanks to @high-seas-swan for cheerleading and B13_MaybeThisTime for many valuable comments (and also cheerleading).

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Chapter 1: Winter

Patrick stuck his head behind the beige curtain of the storeroom at Rose Apothecary. “Bethany, can you cover the register? I’ve got to get to my council meeting.”

“Sure,” she said, leaving off from the merchandise she’d been unpacking and joining him behind the counter.

“I should be back in an hour and a half,” he said, slipping his laptop into his messenger bag.

“No problem. Is David planning to come back to the store today?” she asked.

“I doubt it. He’s gone more than halfway to Thornbridge to meet with potential vendors, so I expect he’ll be late getting back.” Patrick’s thumb strayed to the smooth gold of his wedding ring and he gave it a turn, an ingrained habit now after a year and a half of marriage.

“Okay,” Bethany said to him before turning to the customer who had just approached the register. “Find everything you were looking for today?” she asked in a cheerful, retail clerk voice.

Patrick ducked into the back again to get his coat and gloves and hat, pulling them on and zipping his parka up to his neck before braving the icy temperatures outside. Not for the first time, he wished the store had a vestibule and another set of doors to keep the cold from rushing in every time people came and went during the winter months. He made a mental note to add that to their wish list for a second Rose Apothecary location, when and if that ever became a reality.

David was certainly invested in the idea, spending more time out on the road these days, wooing new vendors or shoring up renewal contracts with existing ones. Hiring Bethany meant they didn’t need to be in the store at the same time, and while the flexibility was more than worth it in terms of the time it gave them to work on growing the business, Patrick had to admit he missed the old days sometimes. When it was only him and David at the store together, sneaking into the back to make out when things were slow.

On the other hand, there was probably something to be said for not spending every hour of every day together, he told himself. Marriages thrived on a little bit of separation. But looking up at the grey sky while he walked through town, it was hard not to feel lonely, the oppressive winter weighing him down.

Patrick ducked into the town hall, always drafty in winter, and pulled his hat and gloves off as he made his way to the desk he used during council meetings and during the one afternoon a week that it was his turn to be on duty, handing out permits and answering questions. It was a good system in a town too small to pay for municipal employees, and helping his fellow townspeople was probably his favorite part of serving on town council.

“Patrick,” Ronnie muttered as he passed by her desk. “Kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

Patrick glanced at his phone. “I’m literally one minute late, Ronnie.”

“One minute late is late.”

“Also, Roland’s not here yet,” Patrick said as he dropped into his desk chair and set up his laptop to take the minutes of their meeting. Ronnie had been quick to inform him that taking minutes always fell to the newest member on town council, although when he expressed his surprise at the idea of Moira Rose doing that job, she’d had to admit that Moira had never actually taken any minutes. Patrick easily agreed to take over from Bob, whom everyone agreed had been terrible at it.

Ronnie just rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively at him. She had sort of supported Patrick when he ran unopposed for Moira’s vacated seat (although he also suspected she was behind the whisper campaign to write in Ted the Turtle, Alexis’s former pet who now belonged to Roland Junior — Ted got thirteen percent of the vote), but that didn’t stop her from continuing to needle him at every opportunity.

Roland finally arrived ten minutes later, and they began working their way through the agenda as Roland wolfed down a sizable sandwich at his desk with table manners that his three-year-old son would have looked askance at. They voted on whether to have a stop light installed outside the café (2-2; tabled for further discussion after the next public forum), whether to confer historic landmark status on the old Hockley barn (1-3 nay), and on whether to finalize the calendar for the “Clean up the Creek” days in the summer (4-0 yea).

“What’s next on the agenda, Ronnie?” Roland asked, his mouth full of his lunch, as if he didn’t have a copy of the agenda on his desk. Patrick looked over, and noticed that Roland had emptied a bag of potato chips onto his agenda.

“The annual blood drive,” she replied, consulting the paper in front of her. “Canadian Blood Services is requesting six volunteers, as we’ve provided in the past, to log people in and to hand out juice and cookies after. We need to have the promotional posters printed and get the word out, and then a volunteer meeting will need to be organized by the end of the month. Patrick, you wanna take the lead on this?”

He looked up from his laptop. “On the blood drive?” His stomach twisted, and he considered saying no. “Uh… sure. Sure.” He typed that into the minutes, his fingers tapping sharply on the keys.

The rest of the meeting passed uneventfully, and they disbanded after another twenty minutes. Ronnie made her way over to Patrick as he was emailing the completed minutes out to the other members of council, a task he liked to do right away before he forgot about it.

“You didn’t seem thrilled to be put in charge of the blood drive. If you’re squeamish around needles—”

“I’m not squeamish about giving blood.” He snapped his laptop closed and shoved it into his bag. “I earned a lapel pin in college for donating blood,” he muttered.

“Oh. Then what’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem. I said I’d do it.” He stood up and shouldered his bag. “Be in charge of it, I mean. I won’t be donating blood because I’m not allowed.”

Ronnie’s eyes turned sympathetic. “Right.” She sighed. “The blood donation rules about gay men are outdated and discriminatory; you don’t have to tell me.”

Patrick shrugged. “It is what it is. I really don’t mind being in charge of the blood drive.” He did, a little, but not enough to make a fuss about it. If this was the only way he could contribute now that he fell into the ‘men who have sex with men’ category, then so be it.

When he was halfway to the door, she called out, making him stop in his tracks. “If our community always just said ‘it is what it is,’ then we wouldn’t have made the progress we’ve made. You wouldn’t have been able to stand in this room and marry the person you love. If it’s wrong, then we fight.”

Patrick turned and looked at her. “I kind of missed the activism part of the queer experience,” he admitted. “Although, I used to buy cupcakes from the GSA bake sale in high school.”

Ronnie rolled her eyes, heading out the door and leaving Patrick to follow her. “You are truly a pillar of the queer community,” she drawled, but there wasn’t any heat in it. She even patted his shoulder and said “see you around” as they parted ways.

Still, he felt unsettled as he walked back to the store. The extent of the time that he’d been aware of his sexuality, he’d mostly spent in a homophobia-free bubble. The people of Schitt’s Creek accepted him, his family (with a couple of notable exceptions whom he no longer spoke to) accepted him. He wasn’t used to being confronted with discrimination, and so even this relatively minor thing in his life, that he couldn’t donate blood — as anonymous and bureaucratic as it was, it was still painful.

The rest of the afternoon did little to lift his mood, and he dragged through the motions of closing up the store with Bethany, then drove home alone. He didn’t want to text David in case he was driving, so when he got home he checked the location of David’s phone and saw that he was still at least two hours away, assuming he was even on his way yet. With a heavy sigh, Patrick let himself into their quiet house.

It was almost nine o’clock when David finally arrived, the familiar sound of him knocking snow off his boots rousing Patrick’s attention from his phone. He flipped off the television, the hockey game he wasn’t really paying attention to disappearing into blackness, and turned toward the door as it opened and David came in with a swirl of snowflakes.

“It’s starting to really come down out there,” David said breathlessly, unlooping his scarf from around his neck and hanging it on the coat rack by the front door. “I’m glad I wasn’t running any later.”

“Me too. It’s supposed to be ten centimeters by morning.” Patrick leaned up and kissed David’s cheek, cold against his lips.

David grimaced. “Just enough to be annoying, but not enough to close the store for the day.” He braced himself on the wall and lifted first one foot and then the other to pull off his boots.

“Yeah.” Their front door tended to stick, not quite latching, so Patrick leaned over and gave it a little push, listening for the click of the latch before he locked it. “Did you eat?”

“I grabbed a burger on the road.” His winter coat off, David pulled Patrick into a hug, his long arms moving into their usual place over Patrick’s shoulders and wrapping around him. “Aren’t you going to ask me how it went?”

“How did it go?”

“I got the clover honey contract.”

Patrick grinned. “I knew you would. And the others?”

“The woman who crochets those little animals is still mulling it over. She might be a no. Belinda Jensen signed on to provide the larger supply of soap we asked for. A couple of others — I left all the paperwork in the car.” He kissed Patrick quickly on the lips. “How was your day?”

Patrick struggled to remember through the fog in his brain what he’d done all day — work and his council meeting and the leftovers he’d reheated for dinner and the hockey game he hadn’t been watching. “Uneventful,” he finally replied.

He felt a surge of irrational anger that David had such a wildly productive day, a day that materially benefited their business, while Patrick had… treaded water. He pushed the anger away — he had no reason to be angry with David. He should be proud of David, of the way he continued to work to make their business thrive, of how good he was with the vendors.

The remainder of the evening was quiet, David on the sofa intermittently reading and texting with Alexis while Patrick made a grocery list, and then another list of tasks he wanted to accomplish over the weekend. It only served to remind him of all things he’d meant to do this winter that he hadn’t gotten around to yet. He just kept getting paralyzed lately; going over and over all the things he needed to do in his mind, but not actually starting any of them.

“I’m ready for spring,” he muttered to himself.

David looked up from his phone. “What are you talking about, you love winter! Winter has hockey, which you love.”

“Yeah.” Patrick sighed. “I’m not really feeling it this year. I’m exhausted.”

Reaching over to rub his shoulder, David gave him a look full of sympathy. “Anything I can do?”

Patrick shook his head and stood up. There wasn’t really anything wrong, so what could David do? “I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you up there in a minute,” David said, distracted by another text from Alexis that made him smile down at his phone.

Patrick had dozed off into a light sleep by the time David crawled into bed next to him, but the dip of the mattress woke him. He rolled over toward his husband, lips against the stubble of David’s jaw, inhaling the scent of his moisturizer. “Missed you today,” he murmured sleepily.

“Missed you too.” David turned his head, brushing his lips against Patrick’s. “Mm, you’re warm.” He wriggled his body, snuggling closer.

Patrick pressed another kiss against David’s mouth, and then another, with softer lips — a little bit longer, a little bit slower.

“Thought you were sleeping,” David said, his voice syrupy and mellow.

“I’m kissing you goodnight,” Patrick said. Another kiss — longer still, slower still.

“That’s how it starts,” David said with a smile, his hand burrowing down and finding the jut of Patrick’s hipbone.

He had a point. There were times when they went to bed with no particular intention to have sex, but the simple press of their mouths together would ignite a fire between them. Patrick wondered if that tendency would ever fade. He hoped not. Especially lately, the physical intimacy he shared with David was one of the only things that made him feel good. It was the only time that he didn’t feel like everything was sort of disappointing and foggy, when he could ignore all of life’s recent shortcomings and annoyances. He could turn off those thoughts and feel the pleasure that David was an expert in drawing out of him.

“Do you wanna have sex?” Patrick asked.

David gave him a crooked smile. “I thought I was too tired, but I might be coming around to the idea.”

Patrick scratched his blunt nails across the back of David’s neck, humming into his mouth as their kisses got deeper and messier. His heartbeat accelerating, that good, fizzy feeling suffusing his body, Patrick shifted closer, enjoying the sensation of their bodies together through their pajamas.

Long before they were married, they established a pattern where Patrick was more often than not the one to take charge in bed, but tonight he wanted it to be David. He felt like he needed to be taken, and used, and useful.

“Can you…” he started to ask, then paused as he tried to figure out how to put what he needed into words. He still struggled with the vulnerability of that, sometimes. Of asking for what he needed. He found it much easier to let David ask for things.

“Tell me what you need, honey,” David whispered as they pulled off their clothes.

Make me forget that I’ve been feeling so shitty, Patrick thought. Show me you still need me.

“Can you hold me down and… fuck my thighs?” Patrick asked instead. The sex act was easier to talk about than the feelings that were underneath it.

“Mm hmm, I can do that,” David said. In the dark, Patrick couldn’t make out David’s facial expression, didn’t know if David was reading any of his churning thoughts. Couldn’t tell if David thought it was odd that Patrick was asking for him to be the dominant one. Not that he’d never been submissive in bed, he had, but he’d done it because it was something David was in the mood for. He’d almost never asked for it.

“Turn over,” David said, the liquid tone of his voice making Patrick shiver as he followed the direction.

Patrick reached over for the lube from the bedside table, handing it back to David before he positioned his back against David’s chest. David didn’t do anything with it right away, though, his mouth wet and sure against Patrick’s shoulder, hand running up and down his hip and thigh over and over, then coming around to gently scrape his fingernails across Patrick’s balls before taking his dick in a loose fist, stroking with a teasing lack of pressure. Patrick moaned, pushing back against David’s erection. He almost changed his mind and asked David to fuck his ass instead — having David inside him really would get him out of his head; it always did. But both of them were tired and the preparation would take awhile, and his original instinct was fine. He didn’t say anything, tipping his head to give David more access to his neck.

After a few more minutes of foreplay, David finally grabbed the lube, getting the inside of Patrick’s thighs and his own cock slick before positioning himself. Patrick clenched his thighs together and David groaned at the friction, fingers clenching on Patick’s hip briefly before his hand moved around and took hold of Patrick’s cock again, matching the rhythm of his hips to the rhythm of his stroking. He wasn’t trying to draw things out now; he was working Patrick’s cock to get him off quickly, and the sensation of it, the way it demonstrated how perfectly David knew him, knew his body, allowed Patrick to stop thinking and sink into the pleasure. He had just enough presence of mind to cup his own palm over himself before spilling over David’s fist, coming with a gasp and a bitten off moan.

David let him pause long enough to grab one of the little towels they kept a stack of on the bedside table to clean himself up, to keep the sheets unscathed, before pushing Patrick down onto his stomach and fucking more vigorously, his cock sliding between Patrick’s thighs and against his balls. Patrick closed his eyes tight and gripped his pillow and let David take him, let him fuck against him, his weight bearing down on Patrick’s back, his pelvis slapping against Patrick’s ass.

“Fuck,” David whispered, and then he lifted up, pulling away from Patrick’s body. “I need to…” he said, and then Patrick heard the slick noise of David jacking himself, and then very quickly the warmth and wetness of David coming on his lower back.

“Sorry for the unnegotiated cumshot,” David said as soon as he caught his breath enough to speak.

Patrick held the towel he was still clutching up for David to take, laughing. “You’re good,” he said as David cleaned him up. “I only need warning if it’s gonna be on my face,” he continued as he flipped over, taking the towel from David and tossing it toward the laundry hamper. While David went to the bathroom to wash his hands and then pulled his pajamas back on, Patrick considered doing the same, but then David was curling around him under their heavy duvet and Patrick couldn’t bring himself to move. He closed his eyes and let the drowsiness from his orgasm pull him under.

~*~

His alarm went off early, and it took Patrick a few seconds to remember why he’d set it so early: the snow.

Mournfully extracting himself from the warmth of bed, Patrick pulled on yesterday’s jeans and a hoodie, then made his way downstairs to don all of his winter gear. Opening the front door, he took a second to admire the pure, untouched snow that blanketed the world before he perturbed it with his boot prints.

Everything seemed preternaturally quiet, the snow dampening what little noise there was. Patrick thought there would have been a time when he would have loved this quiet, would have loved being alone with his thoughts while he did some meditative manual labor. This morning, he shied away from the contents of his own brain, electing to put his earbuds in and to listen to a podcast instead. Patrick fell into a rhythm of snow shoveling in the winter pre-dawn light — push, lift, throw, repeat — so he didn’t notice David until he was almost down to the end of the driveway where Patrick was working.

“David!” Patrick pulled one of his earbuds out, letting it hang. The cold had made the wire stiff, the angle of it unnatural. “I didn’t think you’d be awake yet.”

David had jammed his feet into snow boots, the joggers he’d worn to bed bunching up around his calves. A hat was jammed down on his head, covering his ears, and he shivered as he struggled to zip his coat with gloved fingers. “You not being in bed wakes me up sometimes. And I felt bad that you were out here by yourself.”

“You don’t need to feel bad — you’re covering the store today.” They each had a day each week when they worked the store with Bethany while the other had the day off, and today was David’s day to work. “The least I can do is dig your car out for you.”

David huffed. “Let me help.”

Patrick tilted his head to the side, regarding his husband thoughtfully. “Okay, David. There’s another shovel in the shed.”

David tromped away as directed, and a minute later he was shoveling in a parallel track to where Patrick had been working. It wasn’t something that Patrick could have pictured David Rose doing a few years ago, but David had seemed determined to meet the challenge of homeownership in a lot of ways that Patrick couldn’t have pictured before they were married.

When they finished and went back inside, David groaned as he bent over to pull his boots off. “Ugh, my back,” he whined.

Patrick tried to put a hand on David’s lower back, but his puffy winter coat prevented any contact. “Go take a shower and I’ll make your coffee,” he said.

Patrick put on water to heat up, rubbing his hands together to warm himself, and began getting things set up for breakfast: he ground coffee beans for David’s French press and got out tea for himself and eggs for both of them. He moved automatically through the morning routine, ingrained habits from their year and a half of marriage and from all the mornings before that, when David spent the night at Patrick’s apartment.

After making David breakfast and seeing him out the door with a reminder to drive carefully, Patrick curled up on the sofa with his phone. He had a list of chores he wanted to tackle, and he had a book he wanted to read, but he spent over an hour switching between social media apps, dipping into the first few paragraphs of news articles before dipping back out, not focusing on any one thing for more than a few minutes. He opened a couple of game apps, but closed them again just as quickly without doing anything. These days he’d been mostly avoiding Facebook — he knew the ethical thing to do these days was to delete your Facebook account, but he was afraid of losing touch with all the people he didn’t communicate with any other way. He opened the app now, scrolling through the posts on his feed, most of them family members and friends from high school and college.

He paused briefly on a candid picture on his cousin Sara’s page of her son Justin. “Justin’s last performance in Newsies was last night!!! Great job to all!!!!” Wrinkling his nose at all the exclamation points, he took a good look at his cousin’s kid. They weren’t at the wedding, but he had seen Justin very briefly at the engagement barbecue his parents had thrown for him and David. He’d been a gawky fifteen-year-old at the time, quiet, ghosting along beside his parents with the disdain for attending a family function that only a teenager was capable of. The boy in the picture was older, and something about the way he looked in the picture, his arms slung over the shoulders of a couple of his castmates, made Patrick smile. Congrats to Justin!, he typed into the comments.

Finally, he dragged himself upstairs to shower and get dressed in some clean clothes, regretting that he’d already squandered part of his day off. He could have gone into the store with David if the alternative was this, a day at home feeling adrift and empty.

A hot shower helped, and afterward Patrick started a load of laundry, settling onto the sofa with a basket of towels from the dryer to fold. He unlocked his phone and started one of his history podcasts playing. Most of the rest of the day passed by as Patrick did the bare minimum of household chores, interrupted by long stretches of lost time when he was doing nothing in particular.

Stevie stopped by at a little past five o’clock, flopping down at the kitchen table while Patrick looked in the fridge and tried to decide what he was going to make for dinner.

“Do you want to hear something hilarious?” Stevie asked as Patrick took a packet of chicken breasts out and checked the date. They were still good, and he figured they would do for dinner. A serviceable, boring dinner — the Patrick Brewer of dinners, he thought uncharitably. He also took out some mushrooms, and grabbed an onion from the bowl on the counter.

“Sure,” he answered.

“I saw Gwen yesterday.”

“Bob’s Gwen?” He pulled a chef’s knife from the block and sliced the onion in half.

“Okay, she hasn’t been Bob’s Gwen for a few years.”

Patrick huffed. “No, I know, I was just asking if that’s who you meant. Because she moved to Elm… somewhere. Elm Valley?”

“She moved to Elm Ridge, actually, but she was in town for some reason, and I saw her.”

He squinted at Stevie. “And?”

“And she asked how it was working out among the three of us, and it was clear she meant… like, she thought we’re a throuple.”

Patrick laughed. “We do spend a lot of time together, you, me, and David.”

“I know, but you’re gay.”

“Sure, but I can’t say I’ve ever explained the particulars of my sexual orientation to Gwen. Maybe she assumes I’m pansexual like David.” He blinked up at her. “Are you worried that people will think you’re off the market?”

Stevie shrugged. “The kinds of people I tend to hook up with wouldn’t care.”

“Fair enough.” Patrick felt the old impulse to reassure Stevie that she’d find the right person eventually, and he had to remind himself that he needed to take her at her word, that romance and love weren’t necessarily what she was looking for.

“Are you okay?” she asked with narrowed eyes, watching him carefully as he put dinner together.

“I’m just tired. Had kind of a shitty day.” He couldn’t articulate what made it shitty, though. It was the vague ennui that had been plaguing him lately, the pregnant rain clouds in his brain that were casting a shadow over everything, washing the colour out. “ You staying for dinner?”

“Yeah, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“It’s always fine, Stevie. You know that.”

“Thanks.” She walked over and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, opening it with the magnetic bottle opener that Patrick kept on the door.

“Maybe I just haven’t been getting enough sunshine lately,” Patrick said.

“Do we need to get you one of those light therapy things?” Stevie asked, taking a swig of her beer.

Patrick chuckled. “I don’t know, maybe.” He bit his lip, unsure if he should share more. “It kind of reminds me of the way I used to feel before I ran away and moved here. But back then, I had a good reason to be sad. I’ve got no reason to be sad now.”

“Depression doesn’t have to have a reason. I mean, it doesn’t have to be because you’re… engaged to the wrong person, for example.”

He knew that, intellectually. But he wasn’t sure he really believed it, deep down. “I guess.” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “When’s your next trip?” he asked to divert the conversation onto another track.

Patrick cooked and the two of them gossiped for a bit longer until David got home from the store, planting a kiss on Patrick’s lips when he joined them in the kitchen. The easy banter among the three of them over dinner quelled some of Patrick’s unhappiness, and he found himself laughing through the familiar see-saw of their interactions, as they cycled through every combination of two-against-one. They finally settled on the sofa, David putting on the episode of Derry Girls that they had left off with the last time Stevie was over. Stevie sat between them, leaning against Patrick’s shoulder with her socked feet up on David’s lap.

“Can’t imagine why people think we’re a throuple,” Patrick said, lifting his shoulder and adjusting to a more comfortable position before gesturing for her to lean on him again.

Stevie snorted. “In your dreams, Brewer.”

“Nope.” Then he thought about it. “Well, there was that one time during Cabaret, but I’m not responsible for who turns up in my sex dreams.”

David turned and eyed him. “Who turned up in your sex dreams?”

“Me, apparently,” Stevie said as she poked David in the leg with her toe.

“Ew,” David said.

“Ted, a few times,” Patrick said, which got him an eye roll from his husband.

“I assume you mean the turtle,” David said, looking back at the television.

“Yeah, I’m so hot for turtles.”

Stevie started flipping through a dating app on her phone, her attention only half on the show they were watching.

“What do you think of this one?” she said, holding up the phone so that Patrick could see the blandly handsome shirtless guy on the screen.

“Meh.”

“He’s got nice arms,” Stevie said.

“He looks like an asshole.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t be a good fuck.”

He supposed not, and it didn’t seem like Stevie really wanted his opinion anyway, even though she’d asked for it. He watched as she swiped right on Mr. Shirtless.

Patrick dozed off after a little while, existing in that place between wakefulness and sleep where he was still convinced he was following the story of the show they were watching even though his eyes were closed. He was distantly aware of the warmth of Stevie pressed up against his side and the smell of her hair, and of the safety of being with the two people who knew him best in the world.

(Chapter 2)

[teamoliv-archive]

Story Scene

Team OLIV: The Red Arena Part 1: Atlas Academy Episode 3: Celebration

Previous Scene << CURRENT >> Next Scene

“Woah!” The sights of the upper ends of Atlas were a bit overwhelming to Violet. She’d seen the kingdom, of course, going to and from the academy from her home in Mantle, but seeing the districts that made up the wealthier parts were something else entirely. It came as a shock to both her and Lapis that their team leader, who up until this point had felt largely transactional in his social dealings, had put up the costs of their celebration.

Lapis was less sure about Cheshire’s surprise generosity. It could be he was trying to buy their goodwill for the coming time they were going to be forced to spend at the academy- but that wasn’t going to make Lapis respect his team leader any more than he already did, which was little. If anything this made it worse. Still, he couldn’t help but eye the occasional flashing lights and signs for movies and flashy products- things he’d never even come close to experiencing back home.

“Relax, you guys!” Ivory reassures, staying at the rear of the group. She was the only one who insisted on bringing her weapon with her and wore it folded up at her hip openly. The massive ax/rifle combo still went down past her knee even when compacted. “Onyx already said we’re taking care of today. Between you and me, I think he’s just trying to show off. Come on, what do we want to do first?”

Violet only looked more nervous about the prospect of the day being entirely on her team leader’s dime, regardless of how wealthy he was. She was only growing more anxious and began stopping more often and spinning her head one way or the other. “Th-This might be too much. I don’t think I’d be... comfortable, accepting that. Can we maybe go to a different area? I know Mantle pretty well. We can look around there.”

Onyx gave his team a sneer and rolled his eyes dismissively. “Mantle is a foregone shadow with little to offer. If you’re going to be part of my team I refuse to let our celebrations be second-rate. I already said I was paying, please, don’t worry yourself over that. It’s honestly a little insulting to turn down this level of generosity, wouldn’t you say?”

Violet stopped walking and glared back at Onyx for his comments. It was exactly that kind of snobbish, self-important attitude that kept the people who literally lived in Atlas’s shadow in squalor. It was something she knew all too well. She felt her stomach churn in hunger and clenched her teeth tightly. She had long since taught herself to ignore it. The academy doctor had insisted that was why she was so small, but she didn’t care right now.

Ivory turned to face Violet when her audible hunger broke the tension. “Are you alright?” She asks, starting to glance around for nearby restaurants.

“I’ll be okay,” Violet insisted. She wasn’t about to give in to Onyx’s taunting now that he had drawn his line about what was ‘acceptable’ to visit as a team. If she had to skip dinner to make her point, she was more than willing to. Then she saw the shadow of her team partner start to loom. She looked up in confusion. “Uh.... Lapis?” Lapis’s usual stony and distant demeanor was showing cracks of concern. It reminded her frustratingly of the look her older brother would give her when they were younger.

“No.” He says in a softer tone than usual. “If you two are drawing lines, then so am I. No one’s starving themselves to make a point. Cheshire, where’s the nearest place to eat?” Unlike the rest of the team, Lapis had taken to using the military formal last-name-basis to refer to his teammates. It was something Onyx had been teasing him with by only referring to Lapis by his last name as well since their trip up to Atlas started.

“I’m glad someone’s in agreement. Most places here would require a reservation. I took the liberty of securing one a while ago but they aren’t expecting us for another two hours. I had expected that we would-”

“Then cancel it and let’s go somewhere else.” Lapis interrupted. “There has to be one of those walk in, walk out food in five minutes places around here, right?”

“You mean fast food.” Ivory corrects, “How about this? We go get something quick for now, then figure out what to do later. We’ll save room for the actual meal later.”

“I’d really rather not be here. Somewhere else. Anywhere else.” Violet protests, “Besides, don’t we need supplies, too?”

“Oh very well.... We will eat first and get supplies.” Onyx relents, twisting his face in disappointment. He puts his hands behind his head, adjusts his hat, and leads them out of the rich part of the kingdom toward the nearest vendor of greasy cheap food available. He would need a palate cleanser after this.

After eating, Ivory walks up beside Onyx, who was still sulking about the less than decent meal they just had. “Oh come on, Onyx, it wasn’t that bad. It’s not any worse than what the academy serves at mess time.”

“It is the principle of the matter, Ivory.” Onyx says, “I offer my graces and hospitality and they throw it back in my face. It’s not my fault that Mantle is run down and has barely a decent business to its name. Besides, it’s little more than factories and apartments. There’s no culture or real life to be had.”

“I wouldn’t repeat that within earshot of our teammates...” Ivory warns. “Listen, I was looking forward to a good dinner, too, but we can save it for another time. Right now, let’s just see about those supplies. We still need things to maintain our weapons after all.”

“And that I refuse to budge on.” Onyx examines his own weapon. Jabberwocky was an intricate set of tiny reels, gears, and threading beneath the gold and black-colored plates of his gauntlets. It took no less than precise watchmaker’s tools to keep maintained and he knew Ivory’s bullets for her gun were custom made. “We’ll go to the usual place.” His eyes leveled to the multi-colored abomination of Lapis’s rifle, seemingly bashed together from multiple sources of parts. “Hamelin, we need to talk.”

“What?” Lapis replies coldly, “Are you too good for quick food? You won’t have that luxury out in the field. You’d better get used to-”

“Let me finish, damn you. What in the name of the gods is that weapon of yours?”

“What of it?”

“It looks like it’s one hard blow away from falling apart. Please tell me you didn’t make it out of scrap.”

Lapis’s expression darkened. “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t even know what you’re fighting for last I checked.”

“And that’s wonderful for you that you’ve figured it out for yourself- but if you insist on fighting with that, you’re only going to get yourself killed. Here, we are going to a weapon shop for supplies.” He pulls out a plastic card and hands it out. “Get that thing fixed.”

“I’m not going to respect you just because you’re throwing money at us, Cheshire. I’ll be glad when I’m off this team.”

Onyx tosses the card on the ground and turns away from Lapis. “Do what you will, then, but at this rate you will be off this team when we’re dragging your corpse back to wherever you came from. People are rarely buried with pride.”

Ivory heard a curse then a shout just in time to catch Lapis’s attempt at a swing toward Onyx. “That’s enough!” He was a lot stronger than he looked and she had a real hard time holding onto him. He wound up breaking free, but thankfully didn’t pursue his aggression any further. “We’re supposed to be celebrating our first mission, not fighting in the middle of the street!”

Violet picks up the discarded card and holds it in her hand while watching the simmering showdown. She had to think of something to make sure that didn’t keep happening. She needed to find some common ground for all of them.

“I got it!” She shouts suddenly, “ Follow me once we’re done getting our supplies!” She shows off the card Onyx had tossed to the ground. “Here.”

Onyx stared at the card before his smirk returned to his face. “Hold onto it for now, I want to see what idea of yours just came into your head.”

The weapon shopping went quick and mercifully without incident. With a few backs of parts and material, the team had followed Violet down the street. She stopped in front of a brightly-colored storefront.

“Here we are!” She says, opening the door to the candy store. “Everyone likes candy, right?” Come on, we can finish off the celebration the right way!” The team filed in and started to separate, browsing tentatively. She walks up to Onyx with a more serious look on her face.

“Hey... I know you’re trying to make a good impression, or at least make Lapis not hate you, but... take this back. Please.” She hands the card back over to him, “Just relax and let everyone do their own thing. Just because you’re our team leader doesn’t mean you have to act like a dad with an allowance, even if you have the money. If anyone really needs it, we’ll ask but, try to keep a lid on it, okay?”

“You’re from Mantle and Hamelin is vaguely from ‘outside the kingdoms’ as he puts it, why should I allow you to count your pennies when I can make that a non-issue? Wouldn’t that only make Ivory and I look selfish by comparison?”

“Just trust me.” Violet turns to see Lapis actually looking at the candy rather than scoffing and standing around. Ivory was of course looking through the expensive chocolates in a way that Violet could only be jealous of, but she had to force that back. She knew what she could spend even if it wasn’t much. “Just pick something for yourself, okay? I promise, this’ll work.”

Once all four had situated themselves and picked out a bag of candy, the team stood outside the building looking more content and, at least for now, at peace. No one was arguing or bickering or trying to take charge of where to go or what to do.

“This was a good idea!” Ivory compliments Violet, “Maybe we should make this a regular thing?”

“We will have to go on regular supply runs, so maybe we should! It can be good time for us to get to know each other, too! Maybe we’ll split up and go in pairs? Just a nice long walk just the two of us, spending the day together...”

“Who is she talking about...?” Lapis asks quietly and with a small note of worry.

“Uh, Violet?” Ivory asks, trying to get the smaller girl’s attention.

“And then I’ll tell him, I go this way with my teammates all the time. It’s a tradition. And then he’ll say ‘But this is more special.’ and then we hold each other watching the sunset...”

“Goodfellow!” Lapis barks like a sergeant calling for attention. “Head back on the ground. We’re leaving.” If that was going to be a regular thing with her, he’d have to keep both a close eye and a safe distance.

“Uh... Oh, yeah! Right! Sorry!” She shrinks down as much as she could, realizing she had been caught daydreaming instead of planning. “Let’s go home everyone.”

“Fine.” Lapis stuffs his hands in his pockets and marches ahead, still following behind Violet to make sure he was going the right way back to the academy.

“Hey... Lapis?”

“What?”

“Thanks for looking out for me. You know, about insisting we ate. My big brother used to do the same thing.”

Lapis pauses for a moment, letting his stiff posture loosen for a moment. “I have a little sister, too. I’m used to it.”

“I wouldn’t really call the barracks ‘home’...” Onyx says, trailing behind Lapis and Violet.

“I don’t know...” Ivory counters, walking up beside Onyx, “I kind of like the idea. Think about it, no family expectations, no social pressures to impress, no worrying about embarrassing our parents- we’re just like everyone else now.”

Onyx swallowed and felt a sting of pain hit his head. The old gnarled scar on the ear under his hat was something that never entirely went away. He would have to slip in and out of a pharmacy at some point to deal with it. “That...” He mutters, “is exactly what I don’t want to happen...”

[neshabeingchildish]

Hello Stranger Part 3

At this point, I don't even feel like redoing the final authors notes. Thank y'all all. Edit: So, okay... I’m feeling better, so lemme say that I am trying out deadlines and discipline for ff WIPs. This one I planned as a three parter. So, hopefully you like the conclusion.

Hello Stranger Part 3

Henry had woke up on the couch with a start! He had been transported into the past while he slept, and was right at that moment where he let Charlotte walk out of his life. That day he didn't know he wouldn't see her for 10 years. Now that he did, every time she walked away was a nightmare. He checked his phone. He'd only gotten about 2 hours of sleep. But he still got up and headed straight to the florist shop.

Making floral arrangements gave him some peace of mind. The decision to open a real store occupy his time and set appointments for people had been one of his best ideas. Most people ordered online anyway. And it was nothing to hire a few people to just man the shop, for when he couldn't be there because of his real work as Captain Danger.

None of the staff knew of his lifestyle, nor did they have access to the Man Caves. Schwoz reprogrammed the elevator to be code activated, and they replaced a few of the damaged caves with other burrows that Henry needed. His gym, his spa, a man cave for Schwoz, one for Jasper, and Ray's retirement home… which was currently the active Man Cave, because he didn't have friends or plans but didn't want to work as Captain Man anymore.

Henry's biggest concern about Ray retiring was that he didn't want Ray to "Jason Todd" him. "If you want to relinquish Captain Man, I take up the mantle-hood for sure and for good. Schwoz works for the Man Cave, meaning me and you can't have the right or even the ability to take anything over from me." Ray had agreed to that, only because he assumed Henry would be lax about it.

Sometimes he would try to threaten Schwoz to get something his way, but Henry had given Schwoz the option to escape Ray's threats by grounding him in the Man Cave until he calmed down. The first time was a doozy. The fight that Ray and Henry had when he came to see if he'd cooled off was their biggest yet. At the end of the conversation, Henry clarified, "As long as I'm in charge of the Man Cave, you don't get to attack, threaten or violate Schwoz or Jasper. They work for me and it is a hostile work environment that I won't allow on my watch. If you can't deal with that, Schwoz will bring Halley back to babysit you, if need be." He had his tough dad voice that he sometimes had to use with his own dad and when Ray stormed to his retirement cave, he locked him out of the Man Cave for a while,just in case.

But, seeing Charlotte and recalling their argument, his words, and recollection of examples of her truth over the years… he had to make it right. He built her a bouquet and sent it to where the search engine told him her office was. The high point of his day,nope.. his decade, was seeing the reaction she posted and all of the replies.

Followers trying to guess who the mystery man was. All the heart eyes and jealous drooling. The compliments on the bouquet itself because he appreciated respect for his craftsmanship.

.

Taking things slow, Charlotte soon realized meant that Henry needed them to work at his pace. Not necessarily slow in general, but he seemed more at ease whenever he could make the first move. She could handle that. She didn't like to chase anyway, so that was preferred to her.

They were spending time together, going on dates, talking about themselves and their worlds, and not dwelling on the fight and forgiveness between them - just the future. They were helping Jasper with wedding plans, both silently thinking and wondering what their own might look like if that was ever an option. Charlotte absolutely lived for Jasper's engagement ring and whenever they went to help him pick out Don's wedding ring, she couldn't help but notice Henry looking at various other ones. So, just for laughs, she said, "Be sure to consider that it's either an ethically sourced diamond, if not just crystals, something that says she's sift and dainty, but also don't get it twisted, she's a god-damned boss."

Henry blushed and giggled, "I don't even know what that means but I'll repeat it for the vendor if I'm ever in the market. I'm more of a 4 c's, reputable jeweler with genuine care for the buyer… I feel like just like with food or with flowers, the gift of a ring has to have all of the steps outlined in love. Like… I agree with ethically sourcing, and raise you ethically selecting. The jeweler needs to help the fiance find the perfect ring for their spouse,to feel that energy in that little piece of jewelry. But also, the jewelry has to consent. She has to call you and let you know that she's willing to be that symbol for the rest of her existence…" He looked at a particular ring whenever he said that. Charlotte definitely peeped it. It was perfect. It was probably the most visible representation of her desire for a ring that she had ever seen.

Whenever Henry caught her staring at it with him, he noted the expression in her eyes. She blinked it away and smiled, saying, "Well, Henry Hart, you and some ring are going to make some person… to be honest, if anybody proposed to me having said some stuff like that, they'd better have the entire ceremony in their pocket because how do you not just marry them on the spot?" He laughed.

Jasper fussed from across the store, "I really am happy that you found love, and I'ma let you finish, but I'M the one trying to buy a ring right now!"

Both friends blushed and, and bumbled over their words, and got back to business. Henry gestured to the jeweler at the ring when Charlotte was devoting her visible attention to Jasper. He didn't know when or if he'd ever actually use it, but seeing that look in her eyes, he certainly couldn't just leave it behind… not that he was letting either of his friends see him take it today. There were so many conversations and milestones before… he could even fathom breaching that subject.

Months passed of something that he couldn't put into words. Charlotte gave him the space and speed he needed all of the time and didn't seem pressed about it. They were going to be each other's dates to the wedding, even though they were both actually in the wedding as part of Jasper's wedding party, and he was simply floating on air lately.

Three months into their relationship, he was finally ready to be sexual with her. He'd explained the first time that they got physically intimate that he "didn't really get around to gaining any experience." It took quick work for her not to facially respond to Henry admitting to her that he was not only a virgin but sort of a prude. "I just couldn't for a long time, then after a while, it was pretty embarrassing and I've never met anybody or gotten close to anybody that I could be vulnerable enough to admit this to. I hope you don't think I'm as much of a loser as I feel right now."

She collected him and strummed his face, "There's no reason for either of us to feel like you're a loser. So you haven't had sex yet. So what? There's plenty of people who haven't for various reasons and all of them are valid. The reasons and the people."

The months of kissing, cuddling, and watching Henry figure out what he liked and loved and wanted was really satisfying for her. She had forgotten what it was like to have longer journeys than a fling and sometimes forgotten how it felt to feel something for the person that she was physically connecting with. Besides that, by the time he was ready for her, she was working with a combination of 10 years of him longing, 28 years of him waiting, and the 15 years of hero physical training and working that had his body magnificent to her. Plus, she was super in love with him at that point. It was hands down the best she had ever had and as they grew, it just kept getting better.

For him, it was the fulfillment of everything that he had waited for. Charlotte was always careful not to make him feel upset or unsure. She didn't make him feel inadequate. She was clear and concise about what she could do for and to him, always making certain that he was comfortable and consenting. It was way more beautiful than he thought his first time would be. He expected her to look annoyed when he fumbled or chuckle uncontrollably when he asked what he felt like were stupid questions. She was the perfect partner though - equal portions companion and friend.

It was like he'd been living in a bubble. It was like he forgot that real life had a way of bursting bubbles. It was like he forgot that just because Ray wasn't around her, Ray didn't exist on the same plane. He had definitely forgotten that Ray had agreed to give Jasper away…

.

From the moment that he and Charlotte came into contact, Ray was pretty much at her neck. The thing about it was that they hadn’t seen each other in 10 years and the last time that he’d done this to him, she had told him about himself and didn’t take it back nor regret it a single moment. So, on this day, she certainly wasn’t going to have any of his shit.

“Ah, if it isn’t world renown problem solver Charlotte. Are you here to make sure nobody has any fun at Jasper’s wedding?”

Henry sighed threw his head back. Why hadn’t he considered that Charlotte and Ray would have bad blood.

“Oh, look - Ray Manbabychester. Riding fifty and still going on fifteen,” she commented right back. He fumed and she smiled and added, “Great to see you, Old Man.”

“I don’t look a day over 35,” he said, and while he did still look pretty good for his age, she couldn’t resist.

“Maybe not, but you don’t act a day over 5. Moving on to rehearsal, because we do want this to go on schedule, right Jasper?” Jasper fought off laughter as he nodded. For the rest of the rehearsal, Ray and Charlotte had it out. He’d try to get under her skin and she’d redirect him to what he could kiss. By the end of it, she announced to everyone, “Okay. People that we all claim to love are getting married on tomorrow. Hundreds of thousands of dollars, hundreds of hours, and immeasurable dedication has been given to this event. If I am the fun police, I’ll be that, because I’ll be damned, if anyone,” she looked directly at Ray, “jeopardizes Jasper’s special day.”

“Bridesmaid of Buzzkill, everyone!” Ray cheered.

“That doesn’t even make sense, you MASSIVE idiot!” she fussed, finally losing her cool. “I can’t believe that you’re still exactly the same as you always were...” Her voice was high pitched and screeching and she was honestly ready to sock him in the face, now thinking about the fact that he was pretty much the reason that she and Henry hadn’t spoken in as long as they hadn’t and she knew that even though Henry never said it that he probably spent that time bad mouthing her, just like he was currently doing. And now that she was thinking about it, she was a little bit mad that Henry hadn’t defended her today, not once and was getting ready to drag his ass for that too, as soon as she got him alone, but he injected himself into her fussing at Ray.

“Dude, you’ve been on her all day, and everybody is exhausted with it. Just stop.”

Ray scoffed. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Look, when I was an 18 year old kid, I let that stuff fly, but you know what she means to me and even if you don’t like her or don’t respect her, I’m not gonna just stand here while you bash her. It’s offensive to her, to me, and to Jasper, who we’re all here for… And you know… His spouse-to-be too…”

Ray folded his arms, “You’re siding with her after everything that she did to you?”

“Everything she…?” Henry clenched his fists and said to Jasper, “We’re gonna go, okay?” Jasper nodded. Ray moped as he stomped out of the building and Charlotte tried to keep steam from exploding from her ears. Henry gently pulled her aside, shook his head and said, “I am so sorry that I let that go on for so long. I promise, I was gonna get him together when he first jumped off, but you seemed like you had it and I didn’t think he was getting to you until that part. I would’ve protected you if I thought you needed it..”

She nodded, “I did have it at first. Then, he just kept taking jabs and I thought about all of the years that I put up with that kind of stuff from him. I thought about all of the realizations that I came to in my self discovery of how toxic and traumatic a lot of his verbal and emotional abuse was and the times that he literally almost killed me multiple times while I was a kid at a part time job. Then, I thought about everything that he’s done to you, and I just snapped. I know you love him. I know that I don’t fully understand your relationship. I just…"

"You're right. You were then and you are now. It took me awhile to realize it, that over the years as I was coming into myself, I saw examples and I know that you were spot on about a lot of it, even if I couldn't handle hearing it yet. I do love him and I always will, but I'm not letting those feelings get in between you and me ever again.I'm still working on me and I'm working on him. I'm working on us. I let my loyalty to Ray make us strangers, once. We were never supposed to be that. Look, I know that you don't believe in "the one" or forever, but whatever it is that you think about journeys, I think that you have to know that some of those don't end until you die. And that's what I want, with you. This journey until I'm done."

She leaned into him with a smile and said, "Henry Hart, that sounded suspiciously like a proposal."

"Well, it was definitely the set up to one. Certainly can't ask any time this weekend. Do you realize the level of Bridesgroomzilla that Jasper would unleash?"

"Oh, he would kill us."

"Precisely, and I'm not in any position to die, now that I've finally found my reason for living."

It would be an utter lie to suggest that he didn't frequently make her gush. This eas above and beyond that, though it was interrupted when Ray yelled from the door, "Henry, are we leaving or not???"

Henry groaned, forced a smile and said through his teeth, "He might wind up getting killed."

"Yeah, by Jasper if he keeps it up," she said and they parted ways. A couple of hugs and kisses later, that is. "Good luck getting Gramps settled."

He met up with Ray, scolding him while he pouted and Charlotte waved at them and watched them bicker from the window of the venue. Ray was a lot, but Henry said that he was working on him, on them,so maybe there was hope for him yet.

As for her hope, she was staring at him. He looked back, smiled and the world stopped for a while. Maybe she hadn't believed in soul mates because at the time, hers was a stranger and they were estranged. She didn't know that it could ever be this way. But, it was and her next journey just might be the longest. The stranger was gone now and her soul mate had entered the journey with her and he wanted that journey… for life.

The End.

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (Resident Evil WeskerxClaire fanfiction, CH3)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling upon dark secrets. She can't call the law; Wesker is the law, and she can't tell Chris. She is trapped...ClairexWesker. Slight ChrisxJill. (An old FF.Net multi-chapter fic of mine that I’m revising and publishing to AO3)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794784/chapters/41982563 (Chapters 1-3 are up, Chapter 4 coming soon)

Chapter 3: Blood in the Snow

Chris glared at the two women. Their giggles sounded roughly at the same time, grins wide on their pretty faces. Luckily, the Christmas music drowned their laughter out where other people couldn’t hear them as Chris held on for dear life.

"I fail to see what’s so amusing!"

Jill tugged on Chris’s arm. "Chris, it's just ice skating!"

"Yeah…it's skating, you know…on ice!"

Chris's legs wobbled and slid on the ice as he held onto the railing of the ice skating rink. Claire stood graciously next to Jill on the ice in her skates, arms crossed and breaths coming out in puffs. And even Jill had the audacity to stand on one leg so she could fix the tongue of her skate. The rink was moderately full with people ice skating, but not near as what it usually was. There was plenty of room to skate around; meaning Chris had plenty of room to crash.

The Christmas lights casted a magical glow around the trio. The snow glowed under their aura as music played in the park. The smell of food from nearby food vendors lofted in the air. It was the closest thing they were going to get to a Winter Wonderland in the middle of Raccoon City.

"The guys will never let me live this down if they see me doing this!" Chris huffed. "How the hell did you two talk me into this?"

"Because," Jill stated, looking over her pitiful partner as he was glued to the rail. "You said you’d ice skate with us if we went over to Barry's house with the guys to watch the football game."

Claire folded her arms with a smirk. "Which we would have gone anyways.”

"Don't be such a baby, Chris!” Jill’s attempts at pulling Chris away were futile. He wasn’t budging. “Look, I know you have more balance than that!"

Claire elbowed Jill, and then leaned in to whisper in her ear. Chris looked between them with a warning glare, immediately suspicious of their mischievous grins as they whispered. His fingers dug into the railing even harder, if that was even possible.

"Don't even think about it!"

Claire and Jill grabbed Chris and worked together to tear him away from the railing. They pushed him towards the middle of the skating rink. Chris looked like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide, arms out and waving and legs slipping and sliding as he fought for balance, desperate gasps and profanities spewing from his mouth. Claire and Jill cackled at the sight, skating out towards him. Finally, Chris was able to get a grip on his balance and worked at getting himself to go forward without face planting first into the ground.

"Whoo! I'm doing it!" He sounded like a gleeful child.

"They grow up so fast," Jill joked.

Claire and Jill skated behind Chris as he practiced and tried not to crash. Raccoon City Park was full of excitement and good spirits under the starry sky. Outside of the rink, kids made snowmen and snow angels with their parents. There were even a few families decking it out with a snowball fight.

Claire thoughtfully looked over at Jill. "So…I was supposed to be sneaky about this, but I know it won't do any good. I’m just gonna be upfront. Chris is going crazy trying to find you a Christmas gift. Is there something you want he can get you so he’ll shut up?"

Jill laughed, shaking her head. "He doesn't have to get me anything."

Her smile, though amused, shaped more into an affectionate up-curve of her lips. Her cheeks had been rosy from the cold, but now they seemed extra-rosy to Claire.

"Oh, but he does…badly. Please, you gotta help me or I’ll have to deal with his whining the whole time I’m here visiting."

Jill was quiet, and Claire hoped she was thinking of something. "Well, how about something practical like a new toaster?"

Claire gave her an unamused glare. "C’mon Jill, a toaster? Really? Who wants a toaster for Christmas?"

Jill shrugged. "I really wouldn't want Chris spending any kind of money on me."

"Oh, how about that really nice sofa back in that store we checked out earlier? That would actually look really nice in your living room."

"No way! That thing was like $500!"

"Yeah, you’re right." Claire sighed, thinking. "Hmm…how about a hat? You like hats!"

"A hat sound simple, cheap, and easy. I'm all for it!"

Claire was relieved. "Glad that's over with! So, do you need my help deciding what you’re getting Chris?"

Jill waved her off. "Nah, I ordered his nearly two months ago."

"What? Really? What is it?"

"Well, I went to Robert Kendo's gun shop and had him customize a brand new issue Samurai Edge with a steel slide and a silver-glided trigger just for Chris. It’s a one-of-a-kind gun, made just for Chris. He had one, but it got blown up, and that fucker Irons wouldn’t pay for a replacement."

Claire gave a baffled look. "Blown…up?"

"Don’t ask. Long story. Basically, while dealing with a terrorist, one of the STARS vehicles got blown up with Chris’s gun inside. Everything turned out good in the end, but he sure was upset that his Samurai Edge was destroyed. It was the gun he won that last marksmanship trophy with. He's been using an old Glock instead for awhile."

"Wow, he never told me about that. How much did that cost?"

Jill looked away, mumbling. "Oh, not important."

"Jill!"

"Alright! It cost $780."

Claire’s jaw fell agape and then she glared at her friend. "I'm totally telling him to buy you that sofa and a hat…and a toaster."

"You better not! Don't tell him the gun cost that much. I'm gonna lie and say that Wesker convinced Irons to issue him a new one."

"And what if Chris asks Wesker for that story?"

Jill bit her lip. "I…uhh…I'll tell Wesker to go along with it! Besides, Chris wouldn't dare ask the Captain for the truth!"

"Maybe so," Claire said. "But if you do that, then Chris wouldn’t know it was a Christmas gift from you. He would think it was a Christmas gift from Wesker…sort of."

Jill slumped her shoulders. "Yeah, you're right. I suck at coming up with stories."

"I won't say anything about the gun, but you should really tell him the truth when you give it to him. He deserves to know it’s really from you. And, just so we’re clear, don't be surprised if Chris buys you something just as expensive."

Jill heaved a defeated sigh. "Fine."

"Hey, kiddo!” Chris hollered. “Check this out!"

He was skating on one foot, grinning and proud of himself.

Claire covered her forehead, groaning. "He called me a kiddo…how embarrassing.”

Jill cupped her hands over her mouth, her breath coming out in white puffs. "Pretty soon you'll be an ice skating champ, Christopher!"

"Don't call me that!"

Jill shook her head. "Why does he hate being called Christopher so much?"

"I have no idea."

Chris yelped, and a crash followed. They saw Chris slowly sliding across the ice on his stomach, arms and legs spread out. Claire and Jill skated over to him while laughing and helped him to his feet.

"I think that’s enough ice skating for one day," Chris said, feeling his lip with a finger. "I think I bit my lip!"

"Alright, we better leave anyways if we’re going to get over to Barry's in time for the game," Claire replied, holding back a laugh.

Barry Burton lived with his family in eastern Raccoon City in a safe, quiet suburban community. They lived in a large, two-story house with a built in garage and large backyard. The Redfields and the Burtons went way back. Claire had known Barry and his wife, Kathy, since she was a little girl. She considered Barry’s two young daughters, Moira and Polly, as her nieces. It was the Burtons who helped look after Claire after her and Chris’s parents died, and he was forced to enlist into the military to take care of Claire. It was Barry who eventually helped Chris get hired on at the RPD as a member of STARS. They considered each other family.

While over watching the football game, they enjoyed the good company and the home-cooked food and drinks. Barry's house was full of snacks, good food, drinks, and off course friends. Claire and Jill were just as into the game as the men were, cheering for their home team. Barry left just long enough to put Moira and Polly to bed for the night. Claire wasn't surprised that a few of their STARS teammates were here to enjoy the game and visit as well. Joseph Frost, Forest Speyer, and Richard Aiken cracked jokes and stuffed their faces while the football game went on. Even Barry’s good friend, Robert Kendo, came over to watch the game and have some drinks.

Afraid they would wake his daughters from their rowdy banter, Barry slapped Joseph with a rolled up newspaper and told them to keep it down. However, when the home team scored their first touchdown, the scolding was forgotten as all men jumped to their feet whooping and cheering, Barry included.

The game lasted a couple of hours, and they rejoiced as their home team won the game, clanking beer bottles together. They helped the Burtons clean up for a short time before departing for home.

By the time Chris and Claire got to Chris's house, she was beat. She had cheered just as much as the men, and probably ate just as much too.

The Redfield siblings weren’t home long before going to bed. Chris would be returning to work in the morning, and Claire would to have to take him in because Jill’s shift started earlier.

They got up early the following morning to have breakfast downtown before Claire dropped her brother off at the police department. He grabbed the door handle of the truck and turned to her before getting out.

"Be careful if you go anywhere. We’re supposed to get more snow later," Chris informed.

The sun was rising on the icy morning, but dark gray, overcast clouds warned of more winter weather to come.

"Will do. I think I’m gonna hit the hike trails and run a mile or two before going home. I feel fat from all that good food last night."

Chris rolled his eyes. "You women. Can’t you just run at the track in town? That’s kinda far."

"It’s closed, remember? Besides, I like the scenery out there better."

"I dunno, Sis. Anything could happen that far out by yourself. Might get hurt and no one be around to help. Hell, there might be crazies out there right now."

It was Claire's turn to roll her eyes. There were times Chris’s brotherly protectiveness got on her nerves. "Chris,we’ve taken the Arklay Hiking Trails lots of times and never had any problems. If there is anyone out there, which I doubt from the weather, I bet it’ll only be that old couple Mr. and Mrs. Willow and some of those good looking track guys from Raccoon University."

"Good looking track guys? Now wait just a damn minute, I-"

"Oh c'mon, Chris, I was just joking! I knew you would freak out as soon as I mentioned hot guys!”

“Well, just run a mile around my house.”

"I’d look like an idiot running around the house."

"Fine, whatever. Just don’t take too long and please call me when you get home, alright? If I don’t hear from you in a few hours, I’ll come searching. I mean it!”

"Yes, sir!" Claire stated sarcastically and stuck her tongue out at him.

After her brother got out, Claire drove the truck away from downtown Raccoon City and took the main highway out of the city’s limits. Dreary clouds snuffed out the early morning sun. Claire knew it would snow again soon, probably before noon. It was cold and snowy, but Claire felt the jog would do her some good. She had neglected her exercises since arriving to visit Chris on her winter break, and knew it would also be nice to get out of the house and clear her head for awhile.

Claire smiled. Yes, it was a good day for a jog.

The Arklay National Forest was a vast wilderness that surrounded the city with mountains and rivers for miles around. It was a popular tourist attraction within Arklay County. There were several camping and hiking locations throughout the county, but the more popular ones included the Arklay Hiking Trails to the northwest of the city, off Route 6. They explored Arklay Mountains and provided beautiful sightseeing, rock climbing, and breathtaking vistas.

Claire parked the Dodge truck in the parking area of the hiking trails. The small forest center stated the hiking trails were closed due to the weather. Claire had never seen something like that before, as closing the national forest to people seemed far-fetched. She saw other vehicles in the parking lot, so figured the sign was forgotten about from the ice storm a couple weeks ago.

She climbed out, bundling up in her parka and gloves. She wore dark pants and snow boots and a scarf around her neck. The forest around her was quiet, only the soft cracks of snow falling off tree limbs could be heard. Claire took a good look around. The snow had transformed the forest into a winter wonderland. And though Claire was more of an autumn person, she had to admit that the snow made everything seem mystical.

As she walked over to the start of one of the scenic trails, she noticed the other vehicles parked in the lot, just a few slots down from her truck. She was surprised to see them. In this biting cold and snow, only the determined came out here to walk or hike the trails. She didn't recognize them either. The older couple see saw often drove a Ford car, and they also didn't belong to the track guys from the university.

There were three of them parked side by side, and the models surprised Claire. There was a brand new black Jaguar XK8 that caught her eye. Luxury cars weren't uncommon in Raccoon City, thanks to the booming economy and high-paying jobs from corporations like Umbrella. The Jaguar wasn't one of those more commonly seen though. Whoever owned this car had a lot of money. The other two cars were not near as stunning as the Jaguar, but also were high dollar luxury cars. There was a silver BMW M3 sedan, as well as a dark green Mercedes-Benz S320. The cars were mostly clean save for some dirty snow and mud caked up under the fenders.

Well, it looks as though we got some rich buddies going for a stroll. I hope one of them is good looking!

She laughed inwardly at her own joke, shaking her head and moving on. She was sure whomever owned these cars were not her type and were probably much older. Claire picked the trail that she and Chris would go on all the time, wondering how the snow and ice had changed its beautiful scenery from the spring and summer seasons. She pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and did a few warm up exercises before starting to jog along the trail.

The scenic trail she took was the one of the longer ones, but Claire knew she could always turn back if she started to get too cold. She jogged along the snow-covered path, careful not to slip on any ice. She took in the sights as she followed the trail. Icicles hung from tree branches, thicker branches held snow. The wind whistled as it whipped through the forest, picking up dusts of snow. There was even wildlife nearby. She could see and hear birds as they flew from branch to branch, tweeting and singing. A few squirrels were out, their tails twitching as they chased each other through the trees. A red fox that watched the snow for a mouse saw her and vanished into the woods. Not far from the trail, Claire saw a small herd of deer and stopped to watch them. They ate the bark from the trees, and there were even does with fawns. A buck turned his head towards her, mouth chewing and tail flicking.

I wish I had my camera!

Suddenly, the deer turned and fled deeper into the forest. Disappointed, Claire carried on, but decided to walk for a bit to further enjoy the vibrant wildlife that surrounded her. Her lungs burned from the biting cold and running, and came out in white puffs as she caught her breath. She walked the trail deeper into the mountains, still seeing wildlife here and there.

The deeper she followed the trail, the more it became deathly silent and unmoving. Then it was gone. There was no life whatsoever out here anymore. Even the wind had died down, and so not even the tree limbs groaned or cracked in the distance. Claire's nerves twitched, and she felt a knot growing in her chest. The kind of knot that told her it was time to turn back. Something wasn't right at all, and she suddenly remembered the three cars back at the entrance by her truck.

I should’ve seen somebody by now…

She halted on the path. She looked all around her, that feeling in her chest getting worse. Something bright and red caught her peripheral vision, and Claire looked down onto the snow-covered trail. A few feet away from her was a couple of quarter-sized blood splotches. The sight of the blood itself was enough to make hers curdle. She noticed the other flecks of blood, and even a trail. The dark red spots had melted the snow into a thick syrup-like substance, and were fresh.

Did someone get hurt?

A sharp, pained cry hit her ears and startled her. Her heart jumped to her throat, nerves sizzling as she backed away from the sound. Claire swallowed hard, frozen in place. Her gut urged her to turn back and flee, but she couldn’t just leave without making sure someone wasn’t hurt or dying out here.

The snow crunched quietly below her boots as she followed the blood drops along the path. There were footprints here other than hers, and grooves in the snow that looked like there had been a struggle. Voices carried through the trees, and her breath caught in her throat with a shaky sputter. She went off the path to hide behind a thick, large oak tree. She took a deep breath to steady herself and looked around the trunk into an opening not far off from the trail.

Claire saw a man, maybe in his forties, with graying five o'clock shadow on his knees, wincing in pain. Blood stained his shirt, and his face was welted and bruised. The blood on the trail had to have been his. Claire’s pulse rose as she realized the man's arms were tied behind his back. There were two other men, and they stood in front of him.

One of the men was thin, handsome, and looked to be in his mid-thirties with dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and five o'clock shadow. He wore a coat with a white shirt and a sloppily tied tie and dark slacks. Claire didn't recognize him. The other man was one she recognized all too well. Her eyes widened, heart catching in her throat as she recognized Albert Wesker. The leader of the Special Tactics and Rescue Service wore his dark uniform, the same one she saw him wear the other day. He had a handgun aimed at the bleeding man.

What the hell?!

The man beside Wesker rolled his neck, yawning as if he was bored. "C'mon, Finley, we don't have all day."

"Fuck you, William. I'm not telling you two anything!"

“This is a strange spot to board the Ecliptic Express. The train doesn’t stop out here, unless of course you bribed the engineer because you were trying to avoid us.”

“What?! You’re crazy!”

"You had a contract, Mr. Finley. You are obliged to tell us what you know," Wesker said coolly, the gun unwavering near Finley’s face.

The battered man glared at the STARS Captain. "Yeah, I did have a contract. But not to you, Albert! Just because you killed Crawford doesn't mean I have to answer to you."

"Well, that's too bad," William stated, smirking. "I guess that means we’ll have to resort to other measures, isn't that right, Al?"

"You two are fucking insane! I’ve kept up my end of the deal. I didn't do anything!"

"On the contrary," Wesker interrupted. "You informed a different party about the change in the Tyrant Project as well as gave out crucial information on the Golgotha. That is quite a problem you’ve caused for Spencer and Umbrella, and well as for us."

Finley spat blood from his lips. "You have no proof!”

Wesker bashed the pistol across the man’s face and he yelped.

“William and I do not like our time wasted. The longer I have to play pest control, the less desirable your fate will be.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Well, you never were very bright, Fin,” William retorted with a chuckle.

"William, how about we head over to Finley's house to dispose of his family and make him out to be the killer who shot himself?"

"You always come up with the best plans, Al."

"W-Wait, n-no! Not my f-family! I'll tell you everything; just leave my family out of this!"

Wesker purposely put the barrel close to the beaten man’s eye. "Then where are the disks?"

Finley took a deep breath, his body shaking, but Claire doubted it was from the cold. "I-I gave them to S-Steve Morgan."

"Oh, for crying out loud," William groaned. "Steve Morgan? You’re siphoning information to the Ashfords?! I should kill you where you stand!"

"He’s still in town! You can stop him! Besides, you can’t kill me! Spencer won’t allow it! I demand you two to take me to him!"

Wesker lowered the gun, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. "Of course, Finley. I won’t go against Spencer.”

"R-Really?" Finley gasped.

William rounded on Wesker with wide eyes. "What?!” Then he suddenly calmed, clearing his throat and smiling. “Ohhh. Right. Sure, Fin. Whatever Al says, goes.”

Finley looked between them, pale and sweaty. “G-Good. Now take me to him.”

Wesker rubbed his chin. “Then again, I hate snitches.”

Finley barely got a plea out before Wesker aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. The gunshot pierced through the woods like a cold dagger.

Claire almost screamed when she saw Finley's head explode. The body fell limp to the ground, blood gushing out onto the snow. Claire covered her mouth, not trusting herself to make a noise at the sight. Her breath became shallow gulps, her heartbeats quickening in fear.

William sighed. "You made a mess…again.”

"I'm running late, William. I'll call Sergei and make him send a group out here to clean everything up and dispose of Finley's car."

"Fine. Next time, let's try to move them somewhere a bit more private. I know he was coming back from the express, but someone could’ve been walking the trail, ya know? Not everyone listens to those closed signs."

Wesker shrugged. "We weren't expecting Finley to pull a gun on us, now did we? He was ready for us. It’s why the train stopped out here instead. He knew I killed Crawford and we were coming for him next. This did not go according to plan. He has been in contact with somebody other than Morgan. We should look more into this.”

"Agreed," William replied, kicking Finley's limp leg. "Goddamn rat."

Claire slipped behind the tree again, her heart pounding so fast, it was about to burst from her chest. They were heading back to their cars! There was no way Claire could get back to the truck and leave before they saw her. And she knew Wesker would recognize Chris's truck. She was in a very bad position. She couldn't believe that Wesker, the Captain of the STARS force and one of Raccoon City's Finest, was a dirty cop.

They were talking about something big, she knew. The Umbrella Corporation was one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world, and had actually played a big part in the building of Raccoon City. Besides that, between the pharmacies, facilities, and warehouses, Umbrella gave more than 25,000 jobs for the city alone.

Claire desperately thought on what to do. She couldn't make a run for it without them hearing or seeing her. Wesker obviously had a gun and was not afraid to use it. If she remained in hiding, Wesker would recognize Chris's truck, and would either be back on the trail to hunt her down, or heading back to the police station to confront Chris and possibly lead him into a trap like they did with this poor fellow out here. At this point, Claire had no idea what Wesker was capable of. She always heard that he was one of the most honored and respected men at the RPD, with a prowess like no other. Now it seemed he was a two-faced traitor that used his position in law to his advantage.

"Wait a minute. Look at these shoe prints, Albert!"

Claire froze, the rough bark of the tree digging into her back. She dared not to look around the tree. They sounded right on the other side of it on the trail.

"Woman, size seven and a half. Interesting," Wesker commented.

You've got to be shitting me…

"Alright, little lady, come out! Don't be shy! We know you’re here! We promise we won’t hurt you!" William said, his tone friendly and comforting, but Claire knew better. She then heard him whisper to Wesker. "I knew this was a bad idea! We're going to get caught! I blame this on you!"

"Shh!" Wesker hissed.

They went silent, further antagonizing Claire. She was so terrified, she felt she had frozen herself with the tree and become one with it. Her mind ran a million miles a second, trying to come up with a plan, and fast.

"The footsteps go towards that tree. Stay here," Wesker said.

William scoffed. “Psh! Yeah, better you than me!”

SHIT!

Claire could hear his footsteps heading in her direction off of the trail. She looked down, hoping to God she could find something to use as a weapon against the both of them and escape. All she saw near her feet was a rock twice the size of her fist. She bent over to grab it up, making not even a peep. She struggled to keep her throat from letting a cry out. Why did she have to leave her gun and knife in the truck? Chris always told her to carry them, and the one time she didn’t, she needed them.

Wesker’s footsteps neared the tree, and so she braced herself. Maybe if she was able to knock Wesker out and take his gun, she would be able to get away. William didn't seem much of a threat, but Claire didn't want to take any chances.

As Wesker came around the tree, Claire swung the rock. Wesker barely evaded it, his reflexes quick and nimble. He grabbed her arm, twisting it around her back and slamming her into the tree. It made her drop the rock. Claire yelped, fighting his hold, but he tightened his grip, threatening to break it, and she gave in with a cry.

"Well, well, well, this is quite a small world. Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Redfield?" Wesker greeted, sounding amused as he let her arm go.

Claire turned around with a glare. She tried to push past him, but Wesker shoved her back into the tree and held her there. It didn't take long before William came around to where they were.

"You two know each other?"

"Chris Redfield's younger sister. He’s a member of STARS," Wesker answered simply. Those sunglasses focused on Claire once more, and his grip tightened on her shirt just above her breasts as he kept her in place. He used his free hand to take of his sunglasses, pocketing them. A dark smirk formed on Wesker's lips, his gray-blue eyes piercing her and making Claire's bones freeze. "You better have a good explanation for this, dear heart. I'm just dying to know why you are here."

[mecharina]

A letter to Southern Grimvault

I guess this is my ‘Good-bye to WS’ post. 

After the initial announcement of the game’s shut down two weeks ago, I haven’t had any idea how to properly express my feelings about Wildstar being close down. Seeing other people’s posts here and lurking on the many groups in discord of the news, I just felt a giant wave of sadness come over me and I couldn’t properly express that.

But I guess I’ve gathered my thoughts enough to where I’m writing this, so. It’s mostly for me, just to come in terms with everything. So take it as you will if you do read it.

P.S. It’s Long. P.P.S I’m not good at writing, so pardon for any odd phrasing or grammar lol

I used to farm the area for heartichoke (and later bloodbriar when it became more profitable) late at night w/ my mechari (To my best son, Romulus). It was a very routine thing I did when I didn’t (at the time) have a guild to partake in activities with.

Passing through Conqueror Square, around 10-11 pm PST, when the only physical activity you could see in Illium was at best, 2-4 people, was a normal sight for me as I headed to the transporters. (Rapid transport? I’m stingy) It was the end of a day for most, but the beginning for me as it was my goal, through this repeated and really obsolete method at the time, to gain more plat.

When loaded in, I put my mini-map on maximum size so I would be able to discern which crops to farm and others to stay away. (I didn’t use a mod to pin point which was which. I never had felt the need to.)  Minimized all quests windows, locking them into place so I didn’t accidentally click on them when I was moving around. I ignored nchat for the most part, but did take the occasional peek when curious. 

All the while, I would be listening to the movie “The Grand Budapest Hotel”. Why that particular movie to this map? I really have no idea, to be frank. I don’t own a physical copy of the movie. And I’m more of a fan of Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox really. But this was the movie that always played in the background as I farmed. Eventually, the movie came synonymous with this map. It was just automatic for me to put it on-- late at night, with my earphones plugged in. Any extra noise in game, except the sfx for moving around in the world, would be the only thing I would be listening to for next 2-3 hours.

As the third party host site played the movie in the background, I farmed in S. Grimvault. I definitely do not have the lines memorized by heart for this movie despite me listening to it on repeat. But I’ve connected parts in the movie as to what areas in the map I would be located at the time. The first lines, “It is an extremely common mistake: people think the writer’s imagination is always at work...” would indicate myself being near Vigilant Incursion, just before the Strain Wall event on Dommie side. I’d run up the hill and make my way around the perimeter, closes to the wall as I looked over whether or not there was something I wanted to farm there. 

“Ten? Are you joking? That’s more than I’d pay an actual dealer -- and you wouldn’t know chiarascuro from chicken giblets,” line would usually be before or about around the Charlie Company Crash area, Exile side. To “Don’t flirt with her.” approximately around the entrance to Northern Grimvault between the two Exile and Dominion outposts. If the line was heard before I past the area, meant I made good time, or if a little after, meant I needed to pick up the pace. (Why it mattered whether I hurried along with farming had no real consequence, of course I didn’t want to spend the ENTIRE night there.)

The lines were sorta like markers for me, the starting point being at the Dominion drop in, all the way around through Exile side of S.Grimvault and through the perimeter of the Strain infested areas before coming back around to Vigilant Incursion. Given this was the path I always took when farming, I took to noticing and exploring things. Only natural for me. Since no one was ever really there, save the occasional leveling player or a bot attacking at monsters. (I swore the first time I saw a bot, I thought legitimately it was a real person... In the back of my mind I kinda did hope it was a real person. Goes to show how lonesome of a person I was then lol). 

I know I could have just searched google and typed up things like “Locations of Elite Bosses in S.Grimvault” or “What areas do Champion Bosses spawn in S. Grimvault” but my intention was never to fulfill the achievement quota when I was there. Finding and fighting bosses was a side quest I gave myself when farming. (The extra gold never hurt.) And they became part of the farming routine as I gathered and found more of these bosses and where they were located. (I only ever tackled fighting the rock and strain champion bosses, the charging rhino creature and the Eldan bot were some I couldn’t last long enough to win against.)

The entire routine itself, this farming in Southern Grimvault, was something I did look forward to in the late evenings. I would probably be done around 2-3 am, willing if I didn’t stay longer. Eventually, all the prior set up just became a blur, like, you’ve done it plenty of times, so much so it goes by like ‘that.’ At this point, as I farmed, I thought about things, stuff pertaining to WS in-game, lore, or character development.

One thought I repeatedly went back to in terms of WS was the economy, that if more people played, and how heartichoke and bloodbriar would soar as hot ticket items on the market. I imagined myself to be one of those stuck-up vets (at farming) who knew all the good spots and places to gather said items, being a little greedy and garnering enough plat through this practice to reach the milestone of 1000 plat. ( A personal goal <o/ ) 

Or story ideas for my characters, coincidentally most of them concerned Rom because I always played him during these times. How he’d go to the market the next day, after rigorously spending the day/night prior harvesting these crops, how he’d haggle with merchants and make a pretty plat. How he’d send Kalua to university in Cassus, or help fund/support his brother Remus’s endeavors with the Torine. Just little plot/character ideas that came into mind at the time. 

By the time I hear the credits roll in the background, I’m back near Vigilant Incursion. Upon arriving, I make a quick visit to the renown vendor, sell my extra loot and organize decor/items I’ve gotten and head back to Illium. Most times I’d head back into housing, but recent (recent as in months before when I still farm regularly) I’d just be in Illium and log off. I’d call it a night and that would be the end of it.

I suppose, why I’m writing PARTICULARLY about this personal routine rather than the times I’ve RP’d or done raiding, or gone through the story of WS, or even the drawings I’ve done for the game... is that-

That I thought I’d always be able to come back to it. 

When I felt sad, or down, or wanted to relax after a long day, late nights farming in Southern Grimvault always gave me a peace of mind. The map was vast enough that I could spend 2-3 hours, while listening to a movie, to farm, explore, and goof around. I’d be able to process myself through this simple action of swinging giant claws at a plant or garnering a couple gold from a boss.

But now that this is something that won’t happen anymore, it’s a bit sad to think that I won’t be able to enjoy that routine. Of course there will be other things, but specifically this and the things I’ve experienced through Wildstar, a whole lot of it...

I am going to miss it. I knew it was going to be gone at some point, but I wasn’t afraid to hope a little. Just a bit more, another day, another month, a year, even longer, for content that may have come to bring it back to its feet. But in the end it didn’t. And come Nov. 28th, the game will shut down and WS will be gone. It’s my first mmo, and I guess I’ll never really get over the deal that it is over...

But as everyone has said at this point, the memories of the game, making friends, enjoying the content, how long you’ve been playing either at the beginning or near the end. It’s something to keep despite all the sadness about the news. All of that, I’m really happy to have been through, being able to meet new people, doing things, having fun. 

So, I’ll close this off saying:

Thank you, Southern Grimvault. Thanks for being a map that let me feel like an explorer and enjoying the aesthetics you had to offer with your golden fields of towering exanite to your strain infested pulsating caves.

Thanks everyone, for all the content you create and your passion that kept the game alive through the years.

And to Wildstar for its crazy sciency magical space cow-boy world that I took great enjoyment in.

The giant 10 foot robot appreciates it. 

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Emotional abuse in platonic relationships (long)

My tumblr is usually my escapism fun zone, but it’s time for a quick serious talk.

I've been in a few emotionally abusive platonic relationships and was always frustrated that nearly every help article I read online was written primarily for cis women in a hetero, romantic relationship. Most guides talked about physical violence, sex, and a whole slew of other circumstances I did not experience.

Unfortunately, emotional abusive is not limited just to romantic relationships. Platonic relationships, especially long-term or otherwise intense ones (for example, those that spawn in fandom and minority spaces), can be just as difficult to recognize, confront, and escape.

I thought it might be helpful to outline patterns of abuse I have experienced in a platonic relationship with someone of the same gender. These abuse tactics are forms of control and most are intended to isolate and break down the victim. While it’s easy to write off behaviors individually, together, they form destructive and very deliberate patterns.

More below the cut. I’ve sat on this article for about 3 years to help distance myself from these bad friendships and make sure it wasn’t just me lashing out in the moment. Some of this content may be triggering for emotional and sexual abuse and transphobia.

Note: I'm writing this from the perspective of a trans man. These examples and quotes (some paraphrased) are real things told to me by various abusers. While the examples are very specific to me in some cases, the overall behavior is not.

1. Abusers carefully monitor and audit their victim's activity. Abusers constantly inject themselves into their victim's life and interrogate their victim when they're not included in something. 

Examples:

·         "I saw you check-in at the movies last night, why didn't you invite me?"

·         "I can't believe you took your mom to the new restaurant I've been wanting to go to."

·         "You never invite me to events with your grade school friends when they are in town."

2.  Abusers follow their victims into places they'd otherwise not have an interest, in order to stalk and exert control. Example:

·         Be wary of abusers who only start using social media when you do, especially if they only follow you and primarily vague-blog criticism and threats

3.  Abusers criticize their victim for not being supportive enough, even when the victim is actively supporting them. Example:

·         ::while hanging out together:: "You never hang out with me."

4.  Abusers constantly keep score... but only when it's in their favor. Example:

·         When I was unemployed and he was taking home more in a week than I could scrape together in a few months: “You should buy me this more expensive birthday present because you owe for me gas to the movies from a few months ago."

5.  Abusers use personal information to engage in social currency pissing matches and even blackmail. Examples:

·         "Oh, you're X's friend, too? [Let me tell you some in-jokes that embarrass my victim friend or establish I’m the superior friend due to having a long history.]”

·         "You wouldn't be where you are today if I wasn't the first person you came out to."

·         “You wouldn’t be so successful if I hadn’t introduced you to Y.”

6.  Abusers isolate their victims from work, friends, and family. Abusers consistently criticize their victim's family and friends. They focus on demonizing people/entities, rather than behaviors. Examples:

·         "I hate your job." vs "I hate when your work schedule interferes with our plans."

·         "I hate your friends." vs "I hate when your friends are pessimistic about this game."

7. Abusers are quick to demonize former relationships as a way of confirming their friendship is the superior one. Examples:

·         "Your ex was such a stupid bitch."

·         "I'm glad you don't hang out with those moochers anymore."   

8. When abusers can't isolate their victim from their friends/family, they use friends/family as leverage. Examples:

·         “Are you sure you can’t go to this event with me? Let me ask your partner.”

·         “Don’t tell me I can’t afford this, your mom can just loan me some money.”

9.  Abusers consider everything an immutable promise to set you up for failure. Examples

·         "You promised we'd see a movie at 7pm, I don't care that there's an emergency at your office, you’re a terrible friend for not hanging out with me."

10.   Abusers are hypocrites, especially when it comes to standards of friendship. Example:

·         "Respect is the most important thing to me..." :: consistently uses sexist language when asked not to::

11.   Abusers reduce every conflict to being about them and put their needs first. Example:

·         "I can't believe you'd spring on me that your partner is bigender."

12. Abusers treat your ability to care about something/one as a finite resource to be competed over. Example:

"You care more about [online trans friend who has been feeling suicidal] than you care about me."

12.   Abusers claim their victim's passions for their own as another stalking/control tactic and way to ignore seeing their victim as an actualized person with diverse interests/needs. Examples:

·         "That's really great fan art you drew, is it for me?

·         "Your cosplay is awesome, where's my costume?"

·         I've had a few abusers write really awkward self-insert fanfics that played out like fandom bingo in an attempt to garner my favor.

13.   Abusers will often try to mimic their victim's successes, but only in a superficial way and will blame the victim for their failures. Examples:

·         "I started a blog, but no one is following me because you're not promoting my posts enough."

·         "You told me to keep drawing, but still no one likes my art. It's all your fault."

14.   Abusers turn their victim's passions against them. Abusers ridicule their victim's interests, beliefs, etc. Examples:

·         "It isn't fair you're so talented. I'm totally worthless compared to you."

·         "I've lost you and everything I cared about to a mediocre movie (that you love so much)."

·         "SJWs and trans-trenders stole you away from me."

·         "You're always so angry about trans stuff, I want the old (depressed, submissive) you back."

15.   Abusers interfere with their victim’s work/school/sleep to keep them off-guard. Examples:

·         :: numerous texts demanding an immediate reply during a busy work day or on a commute::

·         :: threats at 3am ::

16.   Abusers forcefully involve victims in their plans and control their schedule without warning. Examples:

·         There was a period of time in which I didn't drive much do to being poor, and an abuser took advantage of that to force me into going to places to watch him buy things for an hour or more before dropping me off at home.

·         Another abuser would just start following me at conventions, into panels, vendor rooms, sit down at lunch, etc.

17.   Abusers pressure victims to make decisions that are financially and/or otherwise harmful to their victim. Example:

·         “Buy this $300 wargaming army so we can finally do fun stuff together.”

(I was spending hundreds of dollars a month I couldn't afford trying to keep up with my abuser's frequently changing interests, all of which were framed as critical to maintaining our friendship.)

18.   Abusers minimize or ridicule their victim’s problems, especially when compared to their own.

Examples:

·         "Moving my birthday party to tomorrow is just as bad as when someone misgenders you."

·         “I can’t believe you’re skipping out on hanging with me this weekend.”

(Said when I was finally confronting my hoarding problem and had been up for 24+ hours doing an aggressive cleanout.)

19.   Abusers make their victims doubt their self-worth. Example:

·         "Your blog is just whoring for attention. You're such a narcissist." (said while I was finally starting to like my body as a trans person)

20.   Abusers gaslight and misrepresent events in order to cast doubt on your memory & concerns. Example:

·         "That never happened that way. Once again, I'm always right."

21.   Abusers are unpredictable with their praise and criticism, which makes the victim further question themselves.

22.   Abusers constantly demand positive reinforcement, often publicly. Example:

·         "Tell me why you're still friends with me."

·         "Name one good thing about me."

·         “You didn’t credit that I took that photo you posted on Tumblr, don’t you care about me? Go edit your post now.”

23.   Abusers make their victim feel they are responsible for the abuser's well-being. Abusers turn their victim into a commodity. Examples:

·         "My life would fall apart without you." ·        ”I need my BFF time!”

·         "You don’t care about me. I'm going to kill myself."

(Note: I take suicide threats seriously and it’s outside the scope of this article to discuss self-harm threats as abuse tactics vs mental illness.)

24.   Abusers publicly (and often threateningly) communicate in a way that is obscure to everyone... but sends a very clear message to you. Examples:

·         "I hate birds. Especially crows." (My partner's goes by the name Crow.)

·        ::flood of memes on Facebook about “real friends” after a fight::

25.   Abusers only apologize to make themselves feel better. Example:

·         "If I apologize, will you stop being mad at me?" vs "I'm sorry I hurt your feelings."

26.   Abusers rationalize specific instances of abuse to deflect from overall abusive patterns. Examples:

·         "I'm just really stressed right now, you know that work is killing me."

·         :: various co-opting the language of social justice & concern-trolling ::

27.   Abusers blame their victims for their abuse. Examples:

·         "I wouldn't have screamed at you in public if you hadn't made me so angry!"

·         "I was just joking, you're too sensitive."

28.   Abusers place their relationship above all others. Examples:

·         "I can't believe you extended your (first) date instead of hanging out with me."

·         “Why did you go out to dinner with your mom instead of hanging out with me?”

29.   Abusers set unrealistic expectations of how much you should interact. Example:

·         One of mine would get demanding if we didn't text every few hours, hang out virtually several hours each evening, and in-person every weekend.

30.   Abusers state they'll do anything for their victim, but never deliver on this promise, often berating their victim for even asking for help. Example:

·         "I'd do anything for you...", followed by, "... I can't believe you asked me to help you move"

31.   Abusers often make an effort to be charming and even caring in public. This makes the victim feel like they're the only ones suffering abuse, and thus, it must be their fault.

32.   Abusers pretend to reform, but it's mainly a tactic to shut down further criticism. Example:

·         "You're right, I'm a terrible person. I promise I'll change. Can we talk about something else now?"

33.   Abusers demand their victims be complicit in their abuse by redefining the nature of friendship and pressuring their victim to not question the abuse. Examples:

·         "A real friend would never criticize me." ·         "A real friend would agree with everything I do.”

34.   Abusers spend more and more of their time with their victim discussing their failings as a friend. Example:

·         “I told [mutual friend] about what you’ve been doing and she agrees with me that you’re a horrible friend.”

35. Abusers want you to swear allegiance to them, especially very early in a relationship. Example: ·         “Let’s get matching BFF tattoos.”

36. Abusers frame conversations they haven’t been invited to as talking/plotting behind their backs. Example:

·         In response to a side chat in which my grade school friends & I talked about family updates, etc: “I can’t believe you set up your own private chat without me. Traitor.”

37. Abusers constantly define and redefine their victim’s identity. Examples: ·        ”Trans men who want [x] shouldn’t consider themselves men.” ·       ”You are the ‘best of both worlds’” (A gross allusion to my transness and a prelude to later telling me he wanted to fuck me.)

38. Abusers police their victim’s appearance, even if it is harmful. Example: ·      “I don’t want you starting hormones. I want you to stay the way you are.”

39.  Abusers use call-outs as excuses for even more abuse and blame victims for feeling victimized. Examples:

·         “When you talk about this with other people, it makes me feel bad, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

·         Abusers I’ve left instantly reacted with rage that made me feel unsafe.

40. Abusers feign concern as segues into making demands. Example: ·      “Are you OK after the hurricane? Btw, I saw your latest cosplay photos, how about we coordinate a new cosplay for me?”

Not all abusers use all of these tactics, and a behavior in and of itself does not necessarily mean someone is an abuser. It’s especially difficult to identify abuse if you and/or your abuser is disadvantaged, have a mental illness, etc. The key is to recognize a consistent pattern of abuse.

Platonic abuse has serious consequences: Stress, depression, anxiety… it can cause physical health problems, financial disaster, and destroy healthy relationships.

Even when you escape, you may spend years recovering and unlearning coping behaviors originally developed to minimize/deflect abuse. In my case, I got into the habit of lying about my plans because I didn't want to be read the riot act that I hadn't invited my abuser to something intimate, like a mother's day dinner or a date. So now, my current gut reaction when asked where I’ve been, what I’ve been doing, what I’ve bought is to *lie* or shut down, and I HATE IT.

But, I'm happy that I've been learning how to identify and distance myself from toxic people. Unpacking my personal abuse is a slow, often painful process, but I hope it helps folks who have found themselves in similar relationships.

Platonic abuse is real and we shouldn’t be afraid to talk about it.

[carry-on-kissing-snowbaz]

Time Travel and Ducks (COC Day 3)

Day 3: Time Travel AU

I am honestly not sure what happened with this. But I hope you enjoy a 3rd year fic in which fighting the chimera goes wonderfully wrong for Simon and Baz. @carryon-countdown

Word Count: 1647

Simon

He was going to kill Baz. Even if he had to hunt down a musket to do it, he vowed he would get revenge for this.

Only a few minutes ago the two of them had been arguing while fighting off the chimera, the chimera which Baz had conjured, when suddenly he’d yelled out a spell at the precise moment Simon had grabbed him in a panic. Without meaning to, Simon had pulsed some of his magic into Baz at the exact moment he’d finished saying the spell.

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times!” Baz had shouted.

Under normal circumstances, the famous Charles Dickens quotes could be used as a spell to right something that was going wrong in the moment, to make the best of times and all that. But, when Simon’s magic had tinged the spell, it had sent them back to the very time the quote had been conceived. 

Simon and Baz were sitting, very uneasily on the steps of the British Museum, after having learned from a newspaper about what had just happened to them. That was how they’d figured out they had landed themselves in 1859.

“I cannot believe this,” Simon muttered.  

“I know,” Baz said, “The book was set during the French revolution, how did we end up here?”

Simon looked at him, unsure he was hearing him correctly.

“Are you actually making jokes right now?”

Baz shrugged.

“It’s not a joke really, I’m just questioning the accuracy of the spell.”

“We’re doomed,” Simon said, “I mean seriously doomed. I do not want to live out the rest of my life with you as the only person I know. In the Victorian Era at that.”

Baz frowned.

“I’m sure I could track down some of my ancestors living in this time.” 

Simon growled.

“And what about me?” He asked.

“Well,” Baz said, smirking, “You don’t know who your parents were. Looks like you’ll be on your own.”

Simon felt like going off and then realized that he couldn’t. There was no way that he could go off in front of the British Museum, especially not almost two hundred years before the present. He had no idea how it would effect the current timeline.

“You are absolutely unbelievable,” Simon said.

Baz glared at him.

“At least I’m not the git who supercharged someone in the middle of a complicated spell!”

Simon shook his head.

“Fine,” he said, “I’m sorry for that. Next time you summon a chimera to kill me, I’ll try to focus a bit more on the whole ‘no touching’ thing. But for now, will you please help me try to figure this out?” 

Baz rolled his eyes.

“Fine,” he said, “Will you just calm down? All we need to do is figure out a spell that would do the same thing and send us back.”

Simon raised his eyebrows.

“Oh yeah, super easy. I guess we’ll try out Tik Tok on the clock and just hope for the best?”

Baz raised his eyebrows, considering it.

“That isn’t a half bad idea actually,” he said.

“I wasn’t being serious!” Simon shouted.

Baz glanced around them, nervously. The people around them were staring at them and whispering. Simon knew that, although not the worst clothing to be caught in during the Victorian Era, their Watford uniforms still stood out. The grime from the fight with the chimera also looked suspicious.

Baz said, “Before we figure this out, can we at least get some proper clothes so we don’t stand out?”

Simon sighed.

“All right,” he said, climbing down the steps, “But you’re buying me some food on the way.”

Baz

Snow seemed to warming up to Victorian London as he ate his way through all the street vendors had to offer. Baz had to drag him away from the vendors before all of Snow’s talking made them suspicious. He was worse than a child in the zoo. 

They’d been looking in storefronts for hours while Snow sampled all his treats. Baz had had to tear him away from a toyshop at one point, though even he had to admit it had been pretty spectacular. Later they’d walked past a music hall and Snow had had to drag Baz away from it.

Snow looked fine in his clothes, even Baz had to admit it. He was wearing a grey suit with a ridiculous top hat. It made his blue eyes and bronze curls stand out. Baz had gone for a deep green suit and hat, splurging on a cane just because. Snow had made fun of him for that but Baz had threatened to stop spelling money if he kept making fun of him. 

They finally settled at Hyde Park and sat to eat a few ham sandwiches.

“This hasn’t been so bad after all,” Snow said.

Baz glanced at him and felt the corner of his mouth tug up. Snow had grease on the corner of his mouth and was looking at a duck a few paces away with a fond expression. 

“So you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life with me here in 1859 London?”

Snow glanced at him.

“You said you would leave me to find your ancestors.”

Baz threw a piece of sandwich bread in the duck’s direction.

“I didn’t actually mean it. I’ll always be stuck with you.”

Snow smiled at the now sated duck.

“Wow, how romantic.”

Baz felt his cheeks go warm.

“Let’s uh, figure out a spell to get us home,” Baz said.

Snow took another bite of his sandwich.

“Actually,” he said, mouth full, “I came up with an idea while we were getting our clothes.”

Baz frowned.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Snow shrugged and looked down.

“I guess I was just having fun,” he said.

Baz didn’t understand why, but he had the sudden desire to grab Snow’s hand and squeeze it, to reassure him or something.

“It has been fun today,” Baz admitted.

Snow looked back up at him.

“Why can’t we be more like this back home? Go eat together and feed ducks together.”

Baz sighed.

“Because my family wants you dead. And your Mage wants to kick my family out of the World of Mages entirely.”

Snow squeezed his lips together.

“Well,” he said, “We’re only thirteen. I say we leave this big stuff to them. If they want to fight it out, then why should we worry about it?”

Baz rolled his eyes.

“You know it isn’t that simple.”

Snow picked at the grass on the ground, head hung low.

“I know,” he said, glumly, “But I want it to be different.”

The duck had come closer to them, squawking for more food. Baz handed it the rest of his sandwich. It really was a greedy duck and far too comfortable with humans.

“Why? Haven’t you always wanted me thrown in a dungeon,” Baz said.

Snow reached out to pet the duck. For whatever reason, it let him, ignoring him while it finished Baz’s sandwich.

“I did. But I don’t think I ever really meant it. I don’t want to now.”

Baz frowned.

“A few hours ago I tried to get that chimera to kill you,” Baz said.

“We both know you were only trying to scare me,” Snow said, “You knew I’d just go off.”

Baz looked around him, at all the people walking with parasols. 

“Well you didn’t,” Baz laughed, “Obviously.”

Snow laughed with him, startling the duck.

“Maybe,” Baz said, “When we go back, I work on my family and you work on the Mage. Maybe��we try to be different.”

Snow nodded.

“All right,” he said, “Then I’m ready to share my spell idea.”

“What is it?”

Snow looked at his face, his eyes warm.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Baz felt his heart stutter. He hadn’t thought it was possible that Snow would ever like him, but here they were having fun together. He knew that the spell would never work if they hadn’t come together as they had. It made him feel warm and a bit tingly. He didn’t understand it but for once he didn’t fight it. 

“All right, let’s go behind a tree before we do it. I don’t want to scare the locals.”

Snow looked lovingly at the greedy duck.

“Can we take her?”

Baz frowned.

“No.”

“But Margery loves us,” Snow pouted.

“You named the duck?”

They were walking over to a tree, the duck following them.

“Well I wanted to name her Butter but I knew that you’d think that was stupid.”

Baz snorted.

“It is stupid. Wait, Margery…margarine…”

Snow looked away, guilty.

“You are seriously disturbed,” Baz said.

“Does that mean I can take Butter?” 

“No! Haven’t you ever heard of the butterfly effect?”

They crouched behind the tree.

“Yeah but I’ve never heard of the duck effect.”

Baz ignored him and put his hands on Snow’s shoulders.

“We ready?” he asked.

Butter the duck settled at their feet and Baz saw no way to dissuade her from coming with them.

“Yes,” Snow said.

“Time flies when you’re having fun!”

Butter quacked.

And then they were gone.

Simon

They were sitting in their room at Watford, thankfully in the right time period, telling Penny all about their adventure. She was sitting on the bed, stroking Butter, while she listened intently.

“Well,” she said, “I’m very glad you idiots didn’t mess up the current timeline.”

Baz smiled at Simon and he felt a small flutter in his stomach.

“I have to say though,” she said, “It sounds like you two went on a date.”

Simon glanced worriedly over at Baz, who looked similarly nervous.

“Penny!” Simon said.

Butter quaked.

“See? Us girls know the truth.”

That made them all laugh.

[dkewauthor]

The Reaper: Chapter 2

The rain was still pouring outside as Maeve woke up.  She dragged her body out of bed, turned on the coffee pot and hopped in the shower. She lived a simple life, had a simple job at the local coffee shop nearby, Grounded Out. Most of her days consisted of working, sleeping and occasionally going to her boxing lessons. Maeve got out of the shower, combed her shoulder length black hair and got ready for work.

           “Good morning Maeve.” Her roommate shouted from down the hall.

           “Morning” she yelled back. A two bedroom single bathroom apartment was all she could afford, and even with the roommate they still struggling to get by. The apartment was nice for where they were. The city of Criel known for its beauty often hid some dark corners. Corners like Rutle Ridge where she and her roommate lived. Rutle Ridge was known for its dark alleys, its nefarious drug deals and robberies and of course the highest crime rate in the city. Most who lived there either couldn’t afford to live anywhere else in the pristine city, or liked to get their hands a little too dirty. Maeve and her roommate Salem had lived there for just over a year together and had to fight off a couple lousy drug addicts the occasional time, never enough to cause a scene, but enough to remind them of where they lived.

           “The shower is acting up again just so you know.” Maeve mentioned to Salem while grabbing her coffee.

           “Awe come on, I thought we got it fixed just a couple days ago.” Salem replied also pouring herself a cup.

           “Well it’s something different this time, no more black water which is nice, but the temperature fluctuates. So get ready to get really hot and really cold all at the same time.”

           “Damn it!” Salem swore as she added some cream and sugar to her cup, eyeing Maeve as she drank hers black. “We’ll have to call the landlord again and see when this will get fixed.”

           “If it’s anything like last time it might take a while. Although he does seem to like to come by whenever you’re around Salem.”

           “Oh shut it, last time he was here he kept staring at my ass the whole time and barely did any work.”

           “I don’t blame the man, I’m just saying if we want it fixed faster maybe flirt a little with him.” Both of them laughed as the continued to get ready for work. Maeve threw on her black work shirt and pants over her small toned body. The company shirt might have a tacky logo on the front of a groundhog drinking coffee, but it did compliment her figure well.

           “Alright I’m heading out, remember drinks tonight after work, we’re meeting at the Fox Hole at 8.” Maeve said as she headed to the door.

           “The Fox Hole? Are we trying to snag us a rich boy tonight?” Salem responded with a smirk.

           “Maybe, it is on the edge of Rutle Ridge so you never know who we might meet, just make sure you’re ready and I’ll make sure we look the part.” And with a wink of her bright blue eyes Maeve headed to work.

           Grounded out was a decent place to work with all things considered. Back in its prime when Rutle Ridge wasn’t just a crime infested shit hole it actually had a name for itself. People would come from all over town to enjoy their beautifully blended coffee, offering a variety of teas, espresso and delicious food people would come from all over town to get a taste. Today it’s the opposite. The food is old and inedible most of the time, the coffee seems bland like water filtered through an old cars tire treads and the management could care less about their employees.

           Maeve started her shift off like any other; she punched her time sheet, turned on the radio for some background music, put on her apron and headed to the front counter. There was always an early morning rush, people needing that early fix to help get them through the day or at least the next two hours. Customers would come get there coffee, grunt a hello and thank you and leave. Most had enough money for a cup but the few that didn’t Maeve would cover the extra. The business might not be what it used to be, but she did everything to try to make it a friendlier and better place every day, no matter how exhausted she was by the end of it. “Hello Bryan, how’s the family today?” Maeve asked the timid looking gentleman as he approached the front counter.

           “Oh they’re good, we just found out we are pregnant with baby number 3!” Bryan responded with glee. Bryan was a regular at Grounded Out; he came in every morning at the same time and ordered the same thing, a tall caramel macchiato with extra whip.

           “Congratulations!” Maeve said with joy. “This one’s on me.” And she handed him his drink.

           “Thank you Maeve, now off to the office, need to get those working hours in to help with the new baby.” Bryan tossed Maeve a wave and a gleeful grin as he exited the shop.

           The day droned on as it was finally time for her shift to end, the next round of staff showed up and Maeve was out the door. The rain had stopped finally, but the streets were still wet as she splashed her way through puddles on her way to boxing. One of her many skills her father had trained her in growing up, they’d spend hours outside in a little ring her dad built out of loose things around their home and backyard. One corner was a stack of buckets, the other was just a rake stuck into the ground to hold the lines of clothing tied together to be the ropes. It was simple and Maeve loved every moment of learning to box with her dad.

           She showed up to Angel Boxing ready to go. A nice establishment with better equipment than what she grew up with, the punching bags actually had stuffing in them, the ring stood tall and centre in the middle and training equipment circled around the rest of the Gym. “Afternoon Griffin, any new recruits?” Maeve questioned the man approaching her.

“A couple new ones, up to no good as usual but jumped at the chance to try to do something better with their lives.” Griffin told back. Angel Boxing was known in Rutle Ridge as a place where people could change, whether you were too poor, into trouble you couldn’t get out of or even just wanting to learn to defend yourself within the community Angel Boxing helped people. Most came in as kids or young teenagers looking for some kind of answers, having lost loved ones, or ended up with the wrong crowd they all found their way there, including Maeve.

“Well you let me know what ones need help and I’m on it, I’ve been in their shoes and I know how hard it can be.” Maeve said with solemn tone.

“Always helping but still never asking for help,” Griffen laughed. “I’m sure there are a couple who could use your help, thank you. Griffin patted Maeve on her shoulder as he walked by and went back to his teaching letting Maeve get to her workout. Maeve loved the gym, time seemed to stand still, just her and the bag nothing else. Punches and kicks sounding like music to her, creating a rhythm that she only needed to follow to land that knock-out punch. She would live in this state all the time if she could, but the song never seems to last long enough.

           Maeve finished with the gym and got ready to head home at last. She had a little time to kill so she thought she would hit up some of the street markets nearby to find something nice to wear for tonight. She walked a couple blocks away from where she worked and sent a text to Salem. “You better not bail on tonight, you know we both need this girls night.” She hit send and put her phone back in her pocket as she rounded the corner to the street market.

           Most street markets in Criel were amazing; you could find gorgeous jewellery, stunning clothing, and plenty of fresh food to feed you for a lifetime. In Rutle Ridge you didn’t get that kind of experience, but if you knew the right people you could strike gold every now and again.

           Maeve worked her way through the vendors, kindly waving off offers of roasted rat and pig tongues until she found Cyril in his booth picking away at his banjo as he always did. His banjo was missing a few strings, but that never stopped him from playing his heart out. “Cyril…” Maeve spoke. “Cyril!” She said again this time raising her voice over the banjo.

“Oh my I’m sorry dear, you know how I get when I play.” Cyril finally responded. He was short, but that came with his old age. His gray hair was thinning on top of his head, but he never stopped smiling. He lived most of his life in Rutle Ridge so no one bothered him, he was family. He had a way of getting things you needed, and sometimes things you didn’t know you needed until you had paid him and were walking away with way less money than you started with.

           “It’s ok Cyril, I was wondering if you had any new clothing you might have gotten a hand on that might work for my friend and I for a girls night out? Ya know something from the inner city.” Maeve raised an eyebrow, the one with a scar through it as she eyed him down.

           “I don’t have anything from the inner city ever on me, that’s too expensive for a place like this.” Cyril responded trying to avoid eye contact.

           “Cyril, we both know you get your hands on this kind of stuff. Don’t beat around the bush with me. How much for two dresses for your favourite girl?”

           “Oh alright, you know just how to get me, give me two seconds I have just what you need.” Cyril dipped behind his stand for a minute; you could hear him rummaging through boxes and clatter as some fell over, the occasional curse coming out of his mouth. He returned with two beautiful dresses, one a deep emerald green and one an ocean blue. “For both it will cost you 5 gold, usually I would say 10 but you are one of my favourites.”

           “I’ll do 3 and promise to tell my friends about you, how about that.” Maeve responded with a cheeky grin.

           “You have a deal,” Cyril said while shaking her hand. “Come on back if you ever need anything again.”

           “I will, thank you Cyril.” And Maeve walked out of the street. She got to a corner and checked her phone. A new text was there from Salem. “I’ll be there don’t worry.” Maeve put her phone away and headed home to get ready for the night.

[bdbdb]

Catch up on previous weeks here

Week 6 – POLICE PUPPIES!!!!!!! (I like the alliteration)

Before we get into what I learned this week I want to introduce you to Suzie, who is in charge of our class and probably a lot of other things at the police department.

What I wrote under “additional comments” is a pretty typical smart-alec-y comment for me, but don’t let that make you think it’s not 100% true. (Suzie is the same Suzie I made a cryptic mention of in Week 4’s post as the “Mom” of the Explorers, which makes perfect sense if you’ve ever met her.) I’ve mentioned a few times how the unstructured parts of the curriculum are sometimes the most interesting and how just ‘chatting’ with some of the officers is my favorite part. Well that holds true for Suzie, except times a jillion. Suzie keeps the class on track, (even the officers) never tells me how annoying I am, (which is a perfectly valid response to spending time with me) and is always ready with some tidbit about law enforcement in general, the SMPD in particular, or just some random fascinating factoid. (About the windows in the dispatch center, training an officer, etc…) It’s the exact stuff that makes the class not just interesting, but fun.

Suzie really could teach the class all by herself. And it’s awfully nice of her to let the officers play. I stand by my comment.

The first part of class was devoted to learning about the department’s scruffiest officers. I don’t mean the kind who overslept and didn’t have time to shave before work, I’m talking about the K-9 variety. Santa Monica PD has 3 police dogs: Felix, Boris, and Rambo. (We’ll talk more about them later.) All three dogs come from the Czech Republic and “speak” Czeck. SMPD gets them from a vendor, Alderhorst Police K-9, who gets them over in Europe and provides dogs to most of the law enforcement agencies around here. Dog shows are different in Europe, instead of breeding for looks they are bred for skill, and dog shows are where they shine. All of SMPD’s K-9 officers are “titled.” (Which makes them sound like Dukes or Earls or something, and now I want an all dog version of Downton Abbey to exist.)

All 3 police dogs are Belgian Malinois. (Similar to German Sheperds.)

Dogs used for searching (a bad guy, drugs, bombs etc…)

The same dog can’t be trained on narcotics and explosives.

All police officers want to be (human) K-9 officers, it’s the best assignment. (According to the human K-9 officers at least.)

Narcotics dogs are trained to find Cocaine, Meth, Heroin, and Marijuana.

Detection training is all playtime, no discipline.

The dogs never “think” for themselves when they are working, the human officer indicates to the dog when it’s time to act.

Like with elite athletes, muscle sprains and other injuries are common.

“We’re all dog guys here, we’re a little nutty” <– I’m calling B.S. on this. Anyone who isn’t a ‘dog person’ is a little nutty.

A dog’s nose is still more accurate than anything technology can provide.

SMPD is getting a 4th dog sometime this summer.

Usually more tenured officers are selected to be a K-9 officer’s human partner.

Cadaver dog is its own specialty

Between 10-12 grand for a dog, around $30,000 after training.

Belgian Malinois have a longer lifespan than a German shepherd.

If you are a human K-9 officer the city will build you a kennel at your house. The police department will pay for dog food. Your K-9 partner is always with you, on duty and off.

A K-9 police car is the same in the front but the backseat is a kennel.

All 3 of SMPD’s dogs are male. Females cost twice as much.

Human K-9 officers carry their weapons differently than their co-workers, and have different gear on their belts.

Human K-9 officers carry something that looks like a pager. The display tells them what the temperature is in the car and alerts them if it gets too hot. If the button is pressed the car door will open and the dog will spring into action.

Can’t put dog in a situation they’ve never been in before.

Dogs are trained to bite and hold. If a suspect has multiple dog bites it means they were fighting the dog, pulling it off etc…

Aggressive alert vs passive alert (stare intently)

A special toy is used to tell them it is time to sniff

Now I would like to introduce you to my 3 favorite Santa Monica Police Officers (no disrespect to any of the other cops I’ve met, but c’mon, they’re police puppies!!! Other officers never stood a chance with me.)

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Boris, Rambo, and Felix are all total sweethearts. I know they mean business and I’m sure they are scary when they need to be, but they were all such love bugs that it’s hard to picture them being anything but affectionate. I fawned all over them (as did the whole class I think) but Boris stole my heart. Felix tried to bite my ring off my finger which made me laugh because, well, if I could get away with biting jewelry off people I would. Rambo seemed totally chill, just eating up the attention. Boris was my special buddy though, we formed a real connection. He likes leaning on things (I was told) and I like cuddles. He gave me kisses without slobbering all over me. Basically, he’s the perfect boyfriend.

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Now it’s time for survey results… Of the officers I interacted with this week a sort of group answer was reached. The closest movies and tv have come to the reality of law enforcement is Southland and Cops. Both answers I have heard before. Hmm…

I gave myself a patrol car. Sorta.

Next up was Forensics. It’s exactly what you think it is, but maybe not in the way you think. I was told that CSI comes pretty close to reality, except one person doesn’t do everything, and things happen a lot slower than on TV.

Forensics is made up of all civilian employees

Main functions of forensics: crime scene investigations, evidence processing, fingerprint comparison, and courtroom testimony.

The average day varies, but it’s mostly fingerprint comparison and report writing.

Documentation takes the form of photos, sketches of the crime scene, and notes. Photos are overall, mid-range, and close up. The sketches are done in a computer program called Scene PD.

Tools in a forensics kit include a fingerprint kit, DNA swabs, an electrostatic duster, a print lifter, Luminol, blood/body fluid testing equipment, and other things I didn’t write down. (Sorry!)

They only need 12 skin cells to get DNA.

The minimum to get hired is a Bachelor’s in Bio or Chem but it’s a really competitive field so you really need your Master’s.

ACE-V = Analysis Comparison Evaluation + Verification.

If you are trying to identify a suspect through fingerprints you can only search in a criminal database. If you’re trying to identify a victim you can search every database. (In class it was brought up that the criminal database includes everyone who was ever arrested, so guilt or innocence doesn’t affect anything, just being arrested means you’re in the database. So much for ‘innocent until proven guilty.’ I don’t get why they can’t search every database for either thing, anyone know?)

Time at a crime scene can run 1-3 hours for a burglary and days for a murder, it just depends. The evidence that is collected can take months to process.

Luminol shows the location of blood diluted over a kazillion times, so even if you think you cleaned a crime scene really well they’re going to figure it out. (“A kazillion times” is literally what I wrote in my notebook.)

Fingerprints can be left through surgical gloves

If you’re trying to burn off your fingerprints, you need to burn off your whole palm to remove the pattern.

But that’s probably not going to help much because scars tend to be really distinctive.

And you need to seriously reevaluate you life choices because whoa…

We were taken to the forensics lab where there was no photography, but a whole lot of really cool stuff. We were shown examples of different things but here’s where things took a bit of a turn (dun dun dun!) It was already a bad pain day for me, but this is when my asshole of a right arm decided to stop cooperating. A working forensics lab is a very bad place for someone who cant control her arm so I just kind of loitered around outside the door and snooped in their closet. (Male and female mannequins and a box labelled ‘Halloween decorations.’ So a pretty typical work closet.)

Instead of a palm tree pic, we are going to end this week’s post a little differently. Go ahead and read the text in the photo below…

If you are anywhere near Santa Monica on Wednesday, April 12th between 10am and 2pm please consider stopping by to join the registry. They’ll give you free ice cream, and you could help save someone’s life. If you’re not free that day or if you live nowhere near Santa Monica, you can go here to look up times/places that work for you, or just register online. If medical stuff is “icky” or you just prefer to show your support with your wallet, that’s okay too. Click anywhere on the image above and you’ll be taken to Maria’s GoFundMe page. Please also consider posting on social media. This isn’t something overwhelming like ending world hunger, all it takes is one person, a match, seeing this information. I posted on Facebook here and Twitter here if you want to share/retweet my post. It’s so easy, and it could save someone’s life.

I promise more pictures of palm trees next week, because I just cant let go of a running joke…

Week 6 - @SantaMonicaPD Community Academy Catch up on previous weeks here Week 6 - POLICE PUPPIES!!!!!!! (I like the alliteration) Before we get into what I learned this week I want to introduce you to Suzie, who is in charge of our class and probably a lot of other things at the police department.