#he did spend some time living in the middle east as a kid so he was more prepared for aggressive greek friendliness

[bunny--manders]

I love taking my husband to Europe because he's mostly traveled in East Asia under super unusual work circumstances, like working for the federal government on a research grant in Tokyo or having a language/cultural liaison partner assigned by the CCP in Shanghai. You need to experience the full unfiltered force of raw Parisian distain for Americans once in a while. Keeps you humble. Keeps you aware of how badly you just mispronounced "cafe au lait."

[yourreddancer]

My Story & Why I Switched From Republican to Democrat

It wasn't just because of Trump.

Ron Filipkowski

Jan 13

A few stories have been written by others about my journey from a former Republican Club President, attorney, and Rick Scott then Ron Desantis political appointee to activist Democrat and independent journalist. Although I thought those stories did a pretty good job covering the basics, I wanted to explain things more in my own words. I also don’t really like to talk about myself or promote myself - I prefer for my work to get recognition rather than me personally. But I think since so many of you follow me and read my work without knowing my story, it would be useful to tell it.

I was born in western Massachusetts - my dad was first generation born in Germany right after WWII to parents displaced by the war who were sponsored to come to America when he was a child. My mother is 13th generation American whose family came to the US in 1636 and was mostly Vermont farmers. Needless to say, there was quite a contrast between each side of my family - from the language spoken, culture, food, history, etc.

My parents married when they were 21 and 18 and divorced when I was 4. My mother took myself and younger brother to Cape Cod which is where I grew up. My dad was a welder and moved to Florida, where I ended up spending most summers until I started high school and decided Cape Cod was more fun in the summer than FL. We lived in a very small house in a rural part of the Cape and my mom stayed single and cleaned houses. On an income level, I was definitely one of the poorest kids growing up in my town - but that is something you don’t really notice much until you get older.

One of the best things about growing up in a place like the Cape is the public education. I’m so thankful for it, because it allowed a working class kid like me to be able to compete against kids later in life who grew up wealthier because I got the same education they did. My teachers in school growing up went to Ivy League schools, or colleges like UMass, Williams, Boston College, Amherst. They could have taken other jobs and made more money - but they loved teaching. It was amazing. It is also why I place so much value in our public schools and the dedicated people who work in them.

That said, I was much more interested in sports and girls growing up than school. Since academics was always pretty easy for me, I never had to work very hard at it, was frequently bored, and rarely applied myself. I also worked every job imaginable since I was 12 years old - delivering newspapers, shoveling driveways, chopping wood, washing dishes, waiting tables, landscaping, on and on. If I didn’t work those jobs as a kid I would’ve had no money, no car, no nothing. But those jobs taught me many valuable lessons - and also gave me a deep appreciation today for the people who do those jobs.

When it came time to graduate high school, I had no money for college and didn’t really want to go into deep student loan debt. I also knew at that point in my life I would have been pretty undisciplined and unfocused and would have underachieved. So I joined the Marines and went to Parris Island four days after I graduated high school at age 17. I never intended to make a career out of it - I mostly wanted the GI Bill for college - but I also knew it would give me an opportunity to see the world. I was also patriotic and thought everyone should serve their country in some way. Why the Marines? That’s simple - it was the toughest challenge!

I ended up in an infantry battalion at Camp Pendleton, CA and deployed to Okinawa and South Korea. The time that I was in (1986-1990) was pretty quiet relatively speaking for our military. Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait six months after I got out and was in college. So I didn’t do any of the Middle East stuff. I had two near-death experiences in training. I got bacterial meningitis when I was in a very remote area of Okinawa at Jungle Warfare School. They didn’t know what it was for quite a while before I was eventually rushed the hospital where I remained for 3 weeks and almost didn’t make it. Two years later, I had a lost HUMMV drive over the middle of my back at 3 AM while I was face down sleeping in some soft sand during a training exercise. I was flown by helicopter to a trauma center and luckily survived.

There wasn’t much to do in our down time at our camp in Okinawa. Most of they guys played cards or hung out in bars, but that was never my thing. I discovered a small but wonderful base library and started holing myself up there for hours and hours. I was 18 years old and had never been that interested in politics. But I began reading everything and gravitated to history and politics. This is when I self-educated myself. I read everything from across the ideological spectrum - from The Nation to National Review. From William F. Buckley to Noam Chomsky. I wanted to learn different perspectives on everything since I really didn’t know whether I was conservative, liberal, or something else!

Eventually, I gravitated towards conservatism and became a Republican. Why? That would be a topic for a separate article, but I think the most valuable thing is that I arrived there on my own without anybody pushing me or influencing me in a particular direction. I think that gave me critical thinking skills and also made me a very independent thinker when it came to politics. I wasn’t interested in dogma or indoctrination - only ideas. And I didn’t think that either side had a monopoly on good ideas. I think the best illustration of that is that I was fascinated and obsessed with the lives and ideas of both Gandhi and Churchill - although two people could not possibly be more opposite. But I saw value in many things both had to offer and say - while recognizing their shortcomings.

I jumped into night school. I took classes everywhere I could as much as I could - nights, weekends - all while serving as an active duty infantry Marine. When I visited our “Education Officer” to sign up for the tuition assistance program which paid 70% of your tuition, he didn’t know he was the battalion Education Officer because nobody had ever come to sign up for that since he had been there (officers wear many hats and have many titles). I thought that was odd - and sad that so many young Marines could go to college for nearly free but didn’t. I guess our daily jobs were so difficult they didn’t have the time, energy, or ambition. I did.

When I got out of the Marines, I was 21 years old and had 2.5 years of college credit. I got a job as a night room-service waiter at the Marriott, enrolled in college full time in San Diego, and had my bachelors degree a little over a year later. So I had just turned 23, had a bachelor’s degree, served 4 years on active duty in the Marines, and paid every penny of my tuition with my own money and the GI Bill. I also got 37 As and 3 A-minuses and graduated with a 3.97. I knew wanted to go to law school and go into politics by running for Congress someday.

While I was in the Marines, my mother and entire extended family also moved to FL. Now both sides of my family all lived in FL while I was in Marines and CA, so I no longer had any connection to Cape Cod. I also felt if I stayed in CA and went to law school there with student loans and no money, I would not be able to buy a home for a very long time. So I applied to Florida, Florida State, and Miami and was accepted to all 3. I chose FSU for politics - I wanted to intern at the state capital and I got a coveted legislative intern position where I had to work 20 hours a week in the House and they paid all my tuition. There was never a single time during my college career when I was not also working a job at the same time I was going to school.

But the summer before I started law school I decided to return to the Cape one last time. I rented a room in a big boarding house in Hyannisport and got a job scooping ice cream cones. I will never forget that job interview. The manager said - ‘you are a college graduate, did 4 years in the Marines, heading to law school, and you want to scoop ice cream cones? I can make you an Asst. Manager for the summer.’ I told him that this was my last chance to go back and be a kid a little bit after a lot of hard work and I wanted no responsibility. So I spent that summer making $8 an hour and had a blast.

That was also when I met my wife, Jackie. She was 20 years old, from Rhode Island, and had just finished a year of college while working at a nursing home. She was also from a working class family with a strict German-immigrant mother and it was her first time away from home and I was her first real boyfriend. It was one of those situations where we both just knew right away. Yes, we were very young at 23 and 20, but at the end of the summer I asked her to come with me to law school and we got married after the first semester. Five kids and 33 years later we are still very happily together.

I graduated near the top of my class but never wanted to work for a big law firm. We started having kids right away and I had 4 by the time I was 28. I often joked that I could walk by Jackie in the hallway and she would get pregnant! I wanted my kids to have a great childhood and do all the activities that I was never able to do growing up and wanted to be very involved in their activities, and working 60-70 hours a week as a junior associate at big firm wasn’t going to work. So I became a prosecutor. A lot less money, but mostly 9-5 and very rewarding.

I also got into politics and started hitting the Republican Clubs and chicken dinner circuit. But the things you had to do to claw your way up the ladder in politics when you have no family connections was time-consuming and not for me. It was also pretty slimy and so much of it was inauthentic personal relationships from self-obsessed climbers. I decided it was much more important to be a good dad and husband than it was to set myself up to run for Congress someday.

But I still did quite a lot professionally and politically. I was a state prosecutor, then a federal prosecutor, then a Police Academy Director. I was General Counsel for the Sarasota Republican Party. Little League President. Then elected twice as president of the largest Republican Club in our area. I was appointed by Rick Scott and then reappointed by Ron Desantis to the Judicial Nominating Committee. I had no higher ambitions for myself at that point.

It was in the mid-2000s that my political views began to change, but it was a gradual process. I went into private practice doing criminal defense because I needed to make more money for my young family and I was coaching the sports teams of my kids, so I needed a job where I was my own boss and could make my own schedule. I was never going to get rich - but I had the right balance between work and family.

But in that job I started working with people every day who had struggles - growing up in abusive families and tough neighborhoods, drug addictions, mental health issues, stuck in abusive and dysfunctional relationships. I also worked with a lot of migrants because they were unable to get driver’s licenses in FL, which led to unnecessary legal troubles for them. I began to see with my own eyes the disconnect between how many of my fellow Republicans viewed people with these struggles and their reality.

I began to develop empathy really for the first time for other people. I was always one of those “up from your bootstraps” Republicans. My thinking was - if I could do it anyone can. Well, some people had it much tougher than me and were dealt a different hand of cards. I just needed to live that experience because it isn’t something you are going to learn from a book. Yes, I grew up in a family that didn’t have much - but I also got a magnificent education, grew up in a neighborhood with little crime, was healthy and not abused (although my mom did like the belt!).

Then Barack Obama ran for president in 2008, and that was another thing that was a factor in my eventual exit from the Republican Party. I was President of a huge Republican Club during that time - and I watched and listened to the things that were said in those meetings about him. I will just say that is when a lot of ugliness came to the surface. It mystified me why it was so personal and nasty. Although I disagreed with him on some policy issues, he was a family man, christian, scandal free, hard working - all the things Republicans promote and are supposed to admire. But their hatred of Obama was something visceral. Something different. It wasn’t about policy differences. I began to realize that race was the main reason why.

I have often looked back on my time as an active Republican pre-Obama and asked myself if the racism was always there and I just didn’t see it? Probably. Maybe I didn’t want to see it. But I saw it in 2008-09, and I didn’t want any part of it. When John McCain had that event where he told a questioner in the audience that he wasn’t going to go there on the birtherism and Muslim stuff and that isn’t what the party should be all about - that really hit home for me because I had many of those moments myself as a Republican Club president.

Eventually, I just simply had enough of it because it just kept getting worse not better during Obama’s presidency. I left my position and checked out of most political activities with the Republican Party. I still showed up for some things when asked out of obligation, but my kids were entering High School and I just decided they were a better use of my time than the GOP.

Then 2015 came along, and Donald Trump ran for president. Everyone who grew up in the northeast in the 1980s knew who Trump was, and most of us couldn’t stand him. I was also a fan of the USFL football league growing up, and I watched Trump come in as an owner and promptly wreck the league with his dishonesty, self-aggrandizement, arrogance and incompetence. I really didn’t think there was any way that the party was going to nominate someone like Trump - I supported Marco Rubio in that primary.

Trump was everything conservatives said they were against in every way. In his personal life, his business dealings, his character, personality - everything. He was obviously racist, pretending to be religious when he was not, pretending to be a brilliant businessman when he was not. Not a good father or husband. A draft dodger. Misogynist. You know the list. I simply could not reconcile how grass roots Republican activists could despise Obama and love Trump when one lived his life in every way how Republicans say it should be led, while Trump did the exact opposite. That is when I realized that their principles and ideals meant less to them than they did to me. They cared about power and winning much more than policies and ideas. So I checked out completely.

I did not vote for Trump in 2016. I voted ‘None of the Above’ for president and voted for Republicans down-ballot. In hindsight, I wish I had voted for Hillary, but I also still did not expect Trump to win - especially after Access Hollywood. So it was more of a symbolic protest for me. But I still sleep better at night knowing that I never once voted for him even though I was a lifelong Republican. One of the few.

I checked out until 2020 and covid. Up to that point, I avoided watching TV or reading news. I did stuff with my family and watched sports. I didn’t want to see or hear anything from Trump. What disgusted me even more than Trump himself was watching people I liked and respected, who I knew never liked Trump at all, sell out to him because of their own personal ambition. People I respected and thought I knew. I have often said that is why I ultimately left the party - not because of Trump, but because of what everyone else in the party did in response to Trump. They surrendered everything they believed in and stood for - or at least what they claimed to believe in.

But in February 2020, just like everyone else, I was at home not knowing how many of us were going to die or lose our jobs during lockdowns watching Trump conduct his covid briefings where I was looking for facts and information. And I was horrified. Day after day, when I wanted to hear from scientists and public health officials, I listened to this blowhard ramble on about his grievances, Hillary Clinton, Obama, North Korea, Benghazi, Russiagate, the Perfect Phone Call, how great he was - I was furious. I was screaming and yelling, throwing things at the TV. I absolutely could not believe this buffoon was in charge of our country at a critical time, and my friends helped put him there.

That is when I made up my mind that I was going to do everything I could to help defeat him, but I didn’t know how. I was watching CNN one day that March and a commercial came on from ‘Republican Voters Against Trump.’ It was started by Bill Kristol, Sarah Longwell, and Tim Miller. I knew who they were and respected them. They were asking Republicans who were against Trump to go to their website and make a video stating their reasons why. I was pretty stunned because I didn’t realize there were prominent Republicans out there just like me who couldn’t stand Trump and were still willing to stand up to him. Then I saw some of the people from Lincoln Project, who I also knew, on TV trashing Trump and I knew there was a small movement out there I wanted to be a part of.

But it was still hard. I stewed on it for 2 weeks. I knew once I did that, I would leave a lifetime in the GOP behind, burn bridges, lose friends. But I did it. I wrote out a script, listed 27 different reasons why I despised Trump, and made 4 minute video. A short time later, I was contacted by RVAT to do more. So I did. They put me on billboards and in some ads. I got on Twitter for the very first time - which I swore I would never do. I did it to try and convince as many moderate Republicans to vote for Joe Biden, and I did it tirelessly.

I didn’t have many followers and not that many people noticed me until the Rebekah Jones situation. Ron Desantis had agents raid her home. I didn’t know much about her or her case - we have never met. But I was appalled that he would use state law enforcement in an effort to intimidate someone. What I was most upset about was I felt he was hiding important health information from the public, and was using Jones to intimidate others inside the state government to keep quiet. So I sent him a letter resigning my appointment to the Judicial Nominating Commission, which I had held for 10 years, and posted that resignation on Twitter.

I had no idea that was going to result in huge national news. I had interview requests from national and international media from everywhere. Over the next two weeks I did as many interviews as I could - that also helped me go from 200 followers on Twitter to 10,000 and gave me a slightly bigger platform to get my anti-Trump message out to reasonable Republican voters.

My plan was to remain an anti-Trump Republican or switch to independent after the election. If Trump had conceded the election gracefully and walked away, that is probably what I would have done. But he didn’t, and I didn’t expect him to. I predicted he would never concede because he has never admitted that he lost anything in his life - despite many failures. What I did not expect was to watch a post-election press conference where Trump’s lawyers Rudy Giuliani, Sidney Powell, and Jenna Ellis were going to claim that there was an international conspiracy between people in Venezuela, Italy and China to flip votes in the machines to steal the election.

Then came the Stop the Steal protests, the lawsuits, the audits, the mania. All culminating in J6. That two month time period in November-December 2020 really set up where I am today and what I am doing now. Because when I heard the stuff Rudy, Sidney & Jenna were saying I was stunned. I just didn’t understand how far the Right had gone into the world of conspiracy theories and disinformation. I was just unaware. So I dove into that world - into different platforms, following different groups and people. Some tech and social media-savvy activists saw what I was trying to do and offered to help me - and they did. Tremendously.

That is why, leading up to J6, I repeatedly warned there was going to be violence and it was going to be very ugly. I saw what they said they were going to do. They talked about wearing body armor, bringing improvised weapons, wearing masks, coordinating with other groups - doing whatever was necessary to stop the electoral count that day. When J6 played out largely like I predicted, I then gained a much larger following on social media from people who figured I might be someone who was good at figuring these people out and keeping track of what they were up to.

I also decided to switch parties, and registered as a Democrat on January 7, 2021. I felt the Republican Party was irretrievably broken and being independent was just straddling the fence when the Democratic party desperately needed clear-eyed leaders who were fearless about confronting MAGA. Although there are times when being a Democrat can be frustrating because there are different sensibilities in many areas I was not used to, I would rather have the occasional person scold me for my choice of a word than associate with insurrection apologists and habitual liars.

Throughout 2021-22 I started going to Trump rallies and events hosted by various MAGA influencers and activists. I mostly wanted to talk to the people, watch them, listen to them. I would walk through the parking lots and read all the bumper stickers on their cars. I checked out the merch booths to see what they were selling. I easily blended in because I came from that world. But I also saw that Trump brought a lot of new people into the party who were never Republican before 2016, had no loyalty to the party, and didn’t become Republican for the reasons I did - because of policy ideas. They were Republicans because they worshipped one man. And that man was repulsive.

One day I had a conversation with a very smart MAGA activist who knew who I was. Up to that point, I always believed that most Trump fans were just misguided, conned and duped and if you just gave them enough facts and reality about Trump they would come around. That was pretty much conventional wisdom among many who covered and observed MAGA from the outside looking in. But this activist explained to me that thinking was exactly wrong. He said that Trump fans were very well aware of most of the Trump traits and behavior that I abhorred - and those things are exactly what they loved about him.

I was really surprised by that take, but the more I thought about it and plugged it into my own experience with a fresh set of eyes it made perfect sense. He was exactly right. Although there are certainly misguided sheep in the MAGA movement, the vast majority are very well informed about Trump and they love all the obnoxiousness, boorishness and awfulness. They know that he lies but they don’t care. The way they see it - he lies to win and he has to do that to defeat his many diabolical enemies. Once you learn this simple truth about most Trump fans, you realize that you are wasting time trying to argue with them or convince them. You just have to defeat them.

I covered the right-wing mania at school board meetings and so many other places. Eventually, I realized that the mistake most Democrats make is that they thought they could defeat this phenomenon by defeating Trump - either in court or at the ballot box. But I felt that the focus needed to be on the movement behind Trump - the MAGA cult. The activists, influencers, media, grifters, podcasters, etc. These are the people who really drive the Trump train. And I saw in so many of them so many weaknesses - their checkered backgrounds and past positions, barely disguised racism and misogyny, lack of education, perversion of christianity, greed and shameless grifting, and how much many of them disliked each other.

So I devised a plan to combat and take on the MAGA movement heading into 2024. I put that plan in writing and pitched it to the same former Republican groups I worked with in 2020. While they saw the value in what I had in mind, they are PACs and political consultants. They make their money by raising huge sums from big donors and making ads. The project I had in mind to fight back against MAGA wasn’t going to make them any money - it was going to cost them. But I felt that the money they would have invested in my project would have been far more effective than throwing another million down the cumulative $2 billion dollar rabbit hole of ads during that cycle.

After 6 months of being unable to persuade any of them to invest in the team I wanted to put together to go after MAGA, I eventually expressed my frustrations on Twitter that I really had a great plan, wasn’t a grifter or trying to get rich, I thought that plan was a hell of lot more effective than anything else being done for a fraction of the cost, but it didn’t fit neatly into any box that would fit into a consultant’s business model. The main problem was that I was a busy full-time practicing lawyer and the only way I was going to be able to do it was to walk away from that after 29 years. I just needed someone to replace that income and hire the team I wanted.

A few months went by and Ben Meiselas called me. He said that he read what I wrote and had been thinking about it a lot. He also wanted to leave the practice of law and do this full time by starting a pro-democracy independent media company with his brothers. He had been thinking about a way to merge that idea with my plan, where the team would take on MAGA and do many of the things I had in mind, but also writing about it and chronicling our work hoping that people would support it and we could fund it with grass roots support.

I didn’t really want to work for a PAC or political consultants, because they have their own agenda that is a bit different from mine. Even though Ben’s concept wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, it was pretty close and made a lot of sense to me the more I started thinking about it. But the most important thing for me was knowing that the brothers were authentic and had their hearts in the right place. This was a big move for me and I was only going to make it if everything was right. I hate phonies, grifters and frauds - as you can probably tell from my writing. It is one of the reasons why I despise MAGA.

What I learned over time in watching them and listening to them was that the Meidas boys were the real deal. They were honest, extremely hardworking, dedicated, principled and fearless. I felt that I was those things as well and it was a perfect fit. I would not have gone to work for them if I ever felt they were any different. So we began to assemble a great team of similar people who brought different skills to the table, and got to work.

Eventually I seized upon the idea to focus on writing the daily bulletins after the election. While it is a tremendous amount of work every day, I felt it was the best way to give people a snapshot into the world that I have monitored every day since 2020 across many different platforms. I also did it because I did not see anyone else out there in any media company doing anything like it. With my column you really get such a broad spectrum of political news and events that you simply cannot find anywhere else. That was my goal.

I hope now you have a better perspective on where I am coming from and how I got here. We may not agree on everything, but I bet we agree on most things - the things that really matter. Hopefully, even when you disagree with something I write or say, you will also now recognize that it comes from a place of good intentions, and it is not that important that we agree on everything.

That is why I don’t necessarily make heroes or villains out of current or former Republicans who stand up to Trump because of their past positions. The political landscape in America continues to change rapidly. I believe that a serious realignment has been happening between the parties and will continue to happen. Some demographics and groups who have been taken for granted by each party continue to move away from them for a variety of reasons. The party that shuns people because of their past positions or current differences on one or two issues will be the party that loses this battle over time.

I think ultimately we are all trying to get to the same place, which is returning our country to some sense or normalcy and decency by relegating this toxic political movement called MAGA to a fringe party by relentless truth telling to discredit it. It is a long and difficult path, but one we at Meidas have chosen to take with you. Unlike many, I never viewed any one election cycle as being decisive in this struggle. It will take at least a decade, maybe two. But I’m in this for the long haul because I know we are on the right side of history.

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 5

Scars and Souvenirs 

Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.

Pairing: Sy / OFC

Word count: 1,568

Rating: some angst some fluff

(Personal note: real life has been kicking my ass lately and it's taking its toll. I struggled with this chapter. I hope it's OK. Also if you wanna chat about Henry, any of his characters, movies or even has out stories feel free to DM me.)

Sy laughed as his three year old niece gave Deb the third degree. Millie was completely enamored with Sy which he was so shocked by since he spent most of her life in the middle east but was incredibly grateful for it. 

"Why didn't ya bing mah unka Sy sooner. He coulda skeered da torm away?" Millie huffed at Debbie. She believed her Uncle Sy could fix everything, even bad weather.

"I'm sorry sweetie but he had to help your grandma with some stuff earlier," Debbie explained. Millie was the cutest little girl with blond hair and blue eyes and at three already had Sy's stubbornness and attitude. Seeing them together, Sy huge and Millie so tiny was cute but watching the big, bad, marine be bossed and pushed around by this tiny little girl was the most adorable thing ever.

"Why didn't you do it?" Millie pouted at Deb.

"Cause she didn't want me too. She wanted to spend time with Uncle Sy," She explained. 

"Why not?" Millie questioned. "You do it den Unka Sy be here wif me!"

"Cause she said she wanted him, not me" Deb shrugged. 

"Why?" She asked again.

"Stop bein stupid 'silly millie'." Amy and Mike's oldest kid, Robbie sneered. He was six and he thought little sisters were the worst. 

"Hey," Amy, Mike and Sy all said at the same time. "We don't call people stupid young man," Amy finished.

"Yea poopy head!" Millie stuck her tongue out at him.

"No ma'am," Sy shook his head. "You don't get to call him names either."

"Whhhhyyy?" She whined. "He is a poopy head!"

"Silly Millie, silly Millie," Robbie sang.

"Cause it's not nice," Sy explained while trying not to laugh. "But mostly because I said so." He pointed at Robbie. "That means you to."

"Otay," Millie nodded and played with the doll she had in Sy's lap.

"Fine," Robbie sighed.

Sy's phone rang and he looked at the screen before turning it to silent with a huff. Deb looked at him quizzically but before she could ask her phone rang. She looked at the screen and did the same thing Sy had done.

"What's going on?" Amy asked but just as she did her phone rang. "Hello?"

"Are they there?" Sara demanded.

"Hello to you too mom," Amy rolled her eyes as she excused herself to the kitchen for privacy. 

"Are they there?" She huffed again.

"Yes they are here. The storm was worse down their way and they couldn't get home. They were exhausted and not in any shape to be alone anyway."

"They were here but she decided I didn't need to have a discussion with my own son. She has no right to try to come between us. He's my son and I have a right to know what…"

"No you don't!" Amy yelled into her phone. "Yes, you are our mother but that doesn't give you the right to know every tiny detail of our lives. Whatever Sy went through over there we know it was awful and if he doesn't want to retell it or doesn't want us knowing then we should be ok with that. All that he needs from us is for us to love him just like he loves us. Is that not enough for you?" Amy was near breathless from her rant but when she heard the click of Sara's phone turning off her blood boiled and she growled rather loudly.

"Don't ruin your relationship with her because of me." Sy had stepped into the kitchen when he heard Amy's raised voice. "I don't know why she's being this way but she's dead set on knowing it all and I don't just don't think I can do it."

Amy hugged him. "You don't have to, Sy. If talking about what happened helps you I will gladly listen to every detail. I will continue to love you just the same if you never tell me anything that happened. You are my little brother." 

He walked over to the counter and leaned his hip against it, arms crossed over his chest. "I should just disappear.  It would make everyone's lives easier."

"You better not disappear! We need you," Amy insisted 

Millie came running into the kitchen ending their conversation.  "Unka Sy!" She ran up to him with her little arms in the air and he scooped her up.

"And what do you want?" He asked her as he tickled her and made her squirm and giggle.

"Come pay wif me!"

He sighed dramatically then flipped her upside. "I guess,  if I have to."  

They spent time playing with the kids before they had their dinner and got ready for bed both falling asleep after a story.

Once it was quiet Sy's mind started to go into hyper vigilance again and he was getting antsy. His eyes were darting to all the windows and doors searching for the enemy. When Amy came back downstairs and called them to the kitchen so they could all eat dinner Deb got an idea. "Amy, do you have any card games or board games?"

"I do!" She jumped up excitedly and went to gather them up.

"You did it now woman," Sy shook his head. "She loves playing games."

Deb held out her hand to him and tried to pull him up which was futile until he helped. "Games are a good distraction," She explained as she guided him toward the kitchen. Once he was in front of her she smacked his ass. "Woman?" She growled. 

He bit back a shocked squeak and spun on her quickly wrapping his arms around her and roughly squeezing her ass with both hands. "Yea, woman." There was a playfulness in his eyes as she reached back and swatted at his hands. "Mine", he growled deep in his chest as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Only yours, always," She promised. He kissed her until she was breathless and leaning heavily against him. "Mmmm," She sighed contentedly.

"Found em," Amy held up the boxes triumphantly. 

Thirty minutes later they were deep into a game of 'Syverson rules Uno' which she learned ment the deck had three special make your own wild cards, one of which Sy made a draw 10 card and you could 'stack' draw cards. The first hand Debbie had to draw eight and Sy enjoyed that just a little too much. So now, about half way into the game, Debbie was in a fit of hysterical laughter, Amy was in tears from laughter, Mike was trying to hide his smile and Sy was cursing. "Biggest bunch of fuckin bullshit I've ever seen in my life." He grumbled. "You keep laughin'" he shook his finger at Deb. It only made her laugh so hard she snorted which led to Amy's hysterical laughter and poor Aika looking at them all like they were mad. "It's not that funny!" Sy huffed at his sister.

"You," gasp, "had to," snort, "draw," guffaw, "18!" Tears from laughter streamed down Amy's face.

He shook his head and glared at her before picking up a pretzel twist and throwing it at her head which Aika happily munched as soon as it hit the floor. "Play!" He growled. 

Deb tried to control her laughter but failed, earning her own pretzel to the head. "They're your rules Syverson! I'm just playing by them," she explained innocently. 

"Uh-huh," he nodded, giving her a look that was supposed to be of anger but he couldn't hide his grin. 

They continued to play games for a couple of hours before Deb noticed Sy starting to wear out. "I hate to end a fun time but I'm getting kinda tired. I think I'm ready to stretch out."

"Of course," Amy stood up and gave her a hug. "You know where everything is but if there is something you can’t find just let me know."

"Thank you again for letting us crash here," sis. 

"You know you're welcome here anytime. " She gave him a hug then shooed them off to bed.

~~~~♡~~~~

Deb made sure Aika had been walked then crawled into bed where Sy was already waiting. The coolness of the sheets was welcoming on her sore, aching body. She wasn't really sleepy but physically she was beyond exhausted. Sighing contentedly when Sy pulled her against his side she pressed a kiss to his chest. "You feeling better sweetheart? "

"Still not right but much better than earlier. I'm so sorry you have to go through this with me. You deserve so much better."

The sadness in his voice broke her heart. She raised up on her elbow and looked at him. "I'm sorry you have to go through it baby, that you went through any of it. You're wrong though. I don't deserve better because there is no one better."

He turned on his side and hugged her to him pressing a kiss to her head nearly purring as she ran her nails lightly up and down his back.

"Mine," She said softly.

"All yours sugar. Only yours."

Tag list

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[suremonty]

the sun is in the east even though the day is done two suns in the sunset...

-------

basic information:

character name: montgomery romano (his 1930s parents had too many children to bother with middle names)

nickname (s): monty

face claim: lucien laviscount

mutation status: gen ii

birthday: december 5th, 2143

sexuality: straight gay bi queer

moral alignment: chaotic good

occupation: factory worker

work sector: sector eight

affiliation: n/a

3 positive traits: gregarious, passionate, diligent

3 negative traits: obsessive, fickle, 'eccentric'

biography (optional): so it shouldn't be too hard to write his intro up since he's a funky little guy who's been around before and didn't have to change much! but. i am still just gonna give a brief rundown because it might be tonight that i write it, it might be in a week! he was born in sol city... then immediately traveled back in time. like, fully went from his mom's arms to some church steps and we're ignoring the whole 'would probably die since he was just born' aspect for now. was picked up and quickly adopted by a nice family with too many kids to count, ergo leading to accidental neglect. but it was okay because his oldest brother and his oldest brother's wife paid attention to him and they tried really hard to learn and teach him sign language since that was not allowed in schools in the 1930s! anyway, brother enlists in the army when wwii hits. dies :\ when wwii ends, monty is like 'yk something doesnt feel right about the fact that we're celebrating nuclear bombs...' wakes up the next morning in an apocalyptic landscape in a year he does not know! walks around for weeks until he finds this bunker thing with this guy (ed gorrister, tho his first name may be changed to avoid confusion) in there who eventually lets him in (but it took a lot of work since monty cannot hear). the man gives him a cipher for morse code :: alphabet to communicate that way and he tells monty that he thinks it was a nuclear bomb because of all the building tension. it was actually the meteor in a very remote part of the world that gave the illusion that like everyone was dead. monty is like 'whoa!' some cool tech keeps them nourished but :\ they run out :\ monty has since learned that gorrister can hear him through a walkie-talkie, so after some debate, he heads out into the wasteland to try to find a safe source of food and almost dies... but then time yanks him back to the 1940s on the day he left and everyone is really confused when he starts talking through the radio!! and when he starts talking about the end of the world through the radio!! uh. weird. things start getting silly with his obsession and he's sent to a few wards and he's about to go through a third round of electroshock when time yanks him away! omg did she save him? no she just took him to pearl harbor and he watches his brother die lol. then she keeps having fun with him and taking him to different wars and times of great tension and even apocalypses! he has been through a lot because his wife (time) hates him! she eventually threw him into the 2170s and. she still plays with him every now and again. because of course she does <3 but he's been largely stable there for two years now... so he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop now <3 too good to be true <3

questionnaire:

how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement? uh... complicated question. he's confused! he was born there, but spend most of his life somewhere in 1900s USA!

do they trust the council’s leadership? why or why not? he just doesn't trust any government tbh. not in the cynical ihsan way, but in the 'i've seen how this ends' way.

if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn’t, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not? see, the problem with time being your toxic wife is that you can just... randomly disappear some days, and no one knows how long you'll be gone for! so monty was just put in a more expendable spot where he feels just at home! It's like all those factories he had to work at as a boy!

what’s one object that they always keep on their person? his walkie talkie + a crude drawing of gorrister.

(mutant only section)

what is your character’s ability (or abilities)? time travel + electronic communication

are they gen i or gen ii? gen ii

what can your character do? what are their strengths?

- time travel:

----- tbh.... the only possible strength is that he can live for a few weeks without food/water when he travels forward.

-electronic communication:

----- he can communicate through radio and television broadcasts by intercepting the airwaves. he used to rely on morse code for the former and be completely unaware of the latter, but he can now project his thoughts through the radio and what he wants to see on the television.  he can do this with other electronics too, but those two are his most used. 

what can’t they do? what are their weaknesses? he's literally time's little bitch. and she's usually sending him somewhere with perilous conditions. he cannot live a normal life!

is there anything else you’d like to specify about them? he's Deaf (original fc was nyle dimarco, then he was a zionist :\ ) and uses electronic communication to speak through his little walkie-talkie that has the most standard american accent in the entire world. he's also a funky little guy who spent too much time in 1900s usa to talk like a normal person. gee willickers, there's so much gobbledygook going on! he also still does not know that the years he spent with gorrister were actually just some years following the meteor, so he's very pepe silvia over the apocalypse LJKDSF His walkie-talkie's vc? Norm from Phineas & Ferb.

[certifiedgryffindorsblog]

So, siblings and the bond they share is important, right? That's someone you share your blood with.

Well for some people being siblings is not that easy and that can be a problem in someone's life and the situation is worse for the people around those people with sibling problems.

There was an earthquake in my country and 10 cities were effected by it. It was a pretty big one and they say it was around 7.8 magnitude. My aunt's house is not harmed, but everything is broken and it's a pretty big mess in her house right now. And of course hers and her family's mental health was effected really badly because of the earthquake that happened at 4.17 am on 6th Feb. So they came here to stay with my grandparents. My family lives in the west side of Turkey and my aunt and her family live in the east side.

They have been staying with my grandparents for two months now and they're going back to their house tomorrow even though they were planning to stay for a few more months and I won't be able to see my aunt and my cousins ,whom I love more than anything, again for a really long time. probably. Because of what? Like I told you fights between siblings really have an impact on the people around them. My mom and my aunt fought really bad and now because of their childish act I probably just saw them for the last time in a really long time.

Their fight was childish they had to think more rationally and even if they do fight they shouldn't have made us children not see each other because of their pride and childishness.

But of course as the oldest cousin of them all their words and fight didn't stop me from seeing them. I took the kids for a day and showed them around the city and they say they didn't have this much fun in like forever. So I'm happy that I spent time with them today and made them happy before they went back.

But what broke my heart the most was the last hug and the last tears I shared with them. My littlest cousin is two years old and when I was hugging her and she was in my arms she didn't let go of me until the very last moment and when her mother -my aunt- took her from my arms she started crying. But I knew if I took her in my arms again I wouldn't be able to let go. And when I was hugging the oldest of my cousins (10) she was crying hard and when she hugged me I felt my bones break. We have a bond with her that no one in my family shares and she loves hanging out with me. It was just heart-breaking because we both knew we wouldn't be able to see each other for a long time. And the middle sibling just hugged me and kissed me goodbye. Even though he's only 7 he acts like a protective brother of us so he was really hard to say goodbye too.

I didn't want to say goodbye, alright? No one in my place would. But I had to because they couldn't stay. They couldn't stay because of the childish silly fight.

I have a little brother. He's 8 years younger than me. So I'm trying to be the best big sister he could ever have. It's hard but once you get that feeling of being his heroic big sister that feeling is worth everything to me.

So tonight I made a promise to myself. I will never ever let go of my brother's hand and always be there for him. Being siblings is really important and whatever happens whoever comes into your life your siblings never walk out. Siblings don't leave each other behind. Siblings have each other's backs and most importantly your older brother or sister. Sibling bond is one of the most important values in my life and I promise to myself that I will never leave my brother like my mom and my aunt. My aunt did some things that I really find selfish but she's my aunt and I love her. That's what my mother should have done too. But what's done is done now. We can't take anything back. I just hope that everything will go back to the way it was and they'll come back to spend more time, but that doesn't seem like it's gonna happen anytime soon.

Don't turn your backs on those you love guys. Don't do that to your loved ones or yourself.

[f0xd13-blog]

If europe is the greatest you should watch and consume european stuff ok? No more anime thanks

Ahahaha europe is the best!! Lez laugh about the way they be giving money to war and to save 10 chiildren or wtv just coz they are jewish and everybody be racist af and fascist since hitler did his thing... ahahahaahahahahahhaha so hilarious ahahahahahhahahahahahaha

Kkkkkkl buahahahahahaa so fun to live in qorst conditions than in some places of africa but IN EUROPE BUAHAHAHHAHA francis call me if you need better housing i know shit is hard in cameroon

Ps. Over there it says that the gorvernmemt can only help 5% of this families this year...first screenshot of the bunch... but it's all worth it for thhose baby blue blood jews.... *starts praying*

So disney made fun of this and y'all thought it was blackface huh?well i think both are awesome " ayyyyy que afte olé" and pretty funny also in fact let me laugh ahahahahaahahahahha

Now let eme laugh with spanish girl that used to say (and still do) that we don't bath for having this sort of hair she is using and actuallly those women at the barracas still used it like this

And finally the yellow face:

"This is quality" says the first comment 😭😭😭😭

Ahahahaha so fun to look like a retarded dresse like us, with our braids and our skin color eheh looking fat af btw if this is quality maybe i've been eating something spolied better be careful but anyways black face was also considered art and comedy at the time! People would be like "oh it's nothing wrong it's just art and humour" well THEY WAS RIGHT

I love this btw. I'm A FAN!!

Anyways... gottta go to sleep... gonna think about how sad it is that those 10 kids are hostaged by "terrorists" in the middle east... it's just so sad I cannot control my tearz specially after what that jew from the acreenshotts told me... i cannot imagine how he most be feeling with the money he stole from me with colonization and that is why i'm in europe... anyways. Nighty night and don't forget to call a G a bandido before you go to bed tonight!

Ps: HE COLONIZED BOTH OF MY HOME COUNTRIES! Pakistan and palestine. Lol

A last paragraph is... I don't care about black or mexican latrashtinos anymore... in fact they disgust me now for the most part except, my fam in europe and some people that I know that are kind and good people.... understanding people who don't put their ego in front of other people just coz they want "to be free to do wtv they wants" like if having common sense was lack of freedom or lack of freedom of speach and expression... yah... so don't even try to inspire me with yo stupid shit that i've seen 1000 times coz it's my culture lol

AND DON TELL ME "I DIDN'T KNOWWWWW" I EAS HERE AND ON TWITTER FOR 1 YEAR AND A HALF! LOST JOB OPPORTINITIES WAS FRAMED AS A BOMBIST ON THE PRESS!! ABUSED ONLINE MULTIPLE TIMES/ CALLED CRAZY AND SHIT... tell me something do you think any country publicizes or exposes their poorest areas??? That doesn't mean they don't exist... do y'all think everybody would be rich in europe? Really??? REALLY? listen if you have all of that and you be that dumb then it's you just stay with no popstars representing you coz nobody be needing that level of ignorance.

Don't forget to come here and work remotly pls.. the rents are so cheap you will not spend much money on this country and the barracas thank you for that also don't forget to cry about those 10 zionated kids ... so so sooo triste sniff

[81scorp]

Constructive criticism: Steel (1997)

Ah yes, Steel. It was back in the early nineties, a show based on Superman called "Lois and Clark" was on TV. In the comic that the show was based on the writers were planning for Clark and Lois to get married, but this idea was postponed to coincide with Lois and Clark`s marriage in the show. While pitching possible replacements, Jerry Ordway jokingly suggested that they should kill Superman. As Superman comic sales had declined in recent years, the writing teams felt the character had been taken for granted and decided to temporarily kill him to emphasize his importance. They wanted the crossover to surprise readers and show Superman is not invincible. And so, Superman was (temporarily) killed, and in his absence four new Superman-like characters showed up, each representing a different moniker or trait he is associated with taken to the extreme. There was Cyborg Superman "The man of tomorrow", Superboy "The Metropolis kid", Eradicator "The last son of Krypton" and last but not least... Steel "The man of steel." Steel, real name John Henry Irons, is a genius engineer who built a mechanized suit of armor that mirrors Superman`s powers and is (so far) the only one of the four Supermen who has gotten his own live-action movie. The film, written and directed by Kenneth Johnson, takes place in it`s own universe without any of the other Superheroes from the DC universe and stars Shaquille O'Neal as the titular character. It bombed at the box office and was panned by critics, who complained about the film's "cheesiness" and bad acting. Now, before I tell how I would do it, I would like to ask the question: Can you make a good Steel movie without bringing the reign of the Supermen storyline into it? Can a Steel movie be it`s own thing and still work? I think that yes, yes it could. With that in mind, I`m gonna come up with two ideas for a Steel movie. One that takes place in it`s own universe and one that takes place in my version of the DCEU. So, if I could run so fast that I could screw the laws of physics, travel backwards in time and change this movie, What would I have done?

Steel as it`s own movie

Shaquille O'Neal as John Henry Irons Usually my CCs are an excuse for me to play script doctor, I very rarely spend time on the casting, but for this movie I feel that it`s a big enough factor for me to talk about. In the comics John Henry is a tall guy, and Shaq certainly is tall, but he is not a very good actor. I`d recast John Henry Irons with a more experienced actor.

All right, time for some scriptdoctoring.

The plot It`s the middle east: John Henry arrives at a town where the local people have been killed by a terrible weapon, a weapon that he has created. He feels like Robert Oppenheimer did when he created the atomic bomb. "I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds." Irons wakes up. It was a dream, but it was also a memory. Irons (now calling himself Henry Johnson) works as a construction worker, and sometimes he teaches basketball and valuable lifelessons to kids he trying to to be a good rolemodel. One day he tells them the folk tale of John Henry - a working class steel driver who made history by drilling a hole in the side of a mountain faster than a competing steam engine.  As the tale concludes, the children turn to leave. Suddenly, a car screams around the corner as rival gang members trade shots with one another. One of the gangs uses a really powerful gun, one that Irons recognizes. The kids are fortunately unharmed. The gang member, not wanting any witnesses, aims his gun at the kids, Irons protects them as the powerful gun misses him by a hair. He gives chase and dives onto the car, but they manage to shake him off. He ends up in the hospital, gets visited by his familymembers and remembers his time working as a ballistics expert designing hi-tech weapons for a contractor with government ties. He had created a series of weapon prototypes, the BG-60s, that were leaked to a terrorist cell. Horrified at what his work had led to, Irons He destroyed all the remaining prototypes and attempted to delete all information of a more powerful model, the BG-80, before going into hiding. He got a job as a steelworker under the assumed name Henry Johnson. Out of the hospital Irons runs into Nathaniel Burke, an old acquaintance from his days in the military. Burke has been looking for him, he`s just made a deal with some people with lots of power and money. He wants Irons to help him build some new weapons, just like in the old days. Irons is not interested. Burke is disappointed but hopes that Irons will change his mind later. Knowing that his weapons are being used by gangs on the streets, Irons decides that he must take action and forges himself a suit of armor with a wrist-mounted rivet gun, flight boots and a big sledgehammer. He tracks down the gang and learns who supplied them with the weapons. Later, after some more searching, he learns that the guy who supplied the gang with the big guns got them from, you guessed it, Nathaniel Burke. Irons and Burke has a big fight in the third act and in the end Irons wins. There are still plenty of Iron`s weapons out on the streets however, so he still has some work left to do. It`s not as easy as defeating one badguy after all.

And that`s how I would do it.

Steel in my version of the DCEU

Man of Steel 3: Doomsday Irons works as a construction worker. When Doomsday rampages through the city he destroys a construction site that Irons is working on. Irons falls but is saved by Superman who then dies in the fight against Doomsday. Irons shows up at Superman`s funeral.

Justice League 3 To honor Superman Irons builds his armor, puts a big Superman "S" on it and dons a red a red cape. He then helps the other superheroes in the fight against the invasion from Apokolips.

Steel Pretty much the same plot that I described to you earlier. But with a few tweaks. He`s already built his armor in Justice League 3, so he doesn`t need to build it from scratch in this one. Characters from the DCEU could show up in cameos. Maybe Lois Lane could show up in a few scenes? Since Irons feels responsible for the deaths that his weapons have created, he tries to solve this without involving any of the other heroes.

Aand that`s how I would do it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Written stuff: 49

Started writing this: 2023-03-04

Other movies on my Constructive Criticism list that you can look forward to

Burton`s Batman Schumacher`s Batman Supergirl (1984) Jonah Hex (2010) Dragonball evolution The Spirit (2008) The Dark Knight trilogy

And as usual: English is not my first language, so if my writing doesn`t seem to flow naturally, you know why.

Steel was created by Louise Simonson and Jon Bogdanove and belongs to DC Comics

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

To build off of this post, but also seperate it from my au a little bit: here’s what i mean for each individual elf belonging to the House of Edireth (Oropher, Thranduil, Legolas, etc)

Oropher: this guy gives the biggest impression of being a more stationary elf, due to his 4000 solar year residence in Doriath with the sindar. Truthfully, this guy would be out of it’s borders more often than in it. He was always on expeditions of one kind or another, though he did spend enough time in his Manor in Doriath, presiding over the group of elves that lived under his banner. He, in particular, was in charge of the north of Beleriand back before the Noldo came and took over, and he still went about as he pleased after the Noldo came (though he aboided them like the plague bc like hell he’s gonna let some greenhorn valinor born elf tell him what to do)as a result, he was notoriously absent from court more often than not, and was only there when there were genuinly important decisions to be made that impacted him and his people.

Cloudryad: the only reason she’s the leader of the silvans up untill Thranduil took over (read: she chucked the “crown” at him and fucked off to who know’s where for 200 years) was because it was between her and two other elves, who’s families have been fueding with each other since almost the dawn of time, and she was considered the neutral and competent option bc she (and her family) don’t have any tight alliances with any other clans/families/whatever you want to call them, and thus could be trusted to rule fairly. But yeah, before and after her reign you’d be hard pressed to find her in the same place for more than a few years, often only days.

Thranduil, before he became the leader, traveled a lot. And i mean a lot. He went all the way east, all the way south, all the way north, and even all the way west during the age of the trees. He picked up so many different cultures in his travels that he’s genuinely a thorough mix between all of them. It was only towards the second age that he started slowing down a little, and that’s mostly for his kids (who he also frequently took on trips). Make no mistake, he loves his people and would die for them, but he did not actually want to be their leader bc he hated staying in one placd for too long.

Miriel traveled all over the place before she came to valinor, challenging all swords elves in order to become the best. Then she traveled all the way to valinor, which in itself isn’t bad, but then she was essentially trapped there and became antsy. Then she died. And is being held in the halls against her will.

Lasgen on the surface also looks more like an elf who is more stationary, and her wife, Oasis, travels more than her. But also, Lasgen led a 100 year campaign, when she was co-empresses of the Arctic Empire, in order to conquer the whole of middle earth. Which she succeeded in and proceeded to rule over for 500 years before she got bored and gave it all back. That’s also why she’s banned from Doriath after the fact. Came back to Greenwood anout 1000 years before the first age bc she is biologically a wood elf, and not an Atric elf (which is what the Arctic empire mostly consists of) and took up the role of the head of the Black Ops department for lack of better words. Between that and having a lot of acquaintance throughout all the Avari nations means she travels between nations a lot.

Inwe’s story is similar to Miriel’s. He traveled a lot when he was younger, but when he became king of the vanya, the valar (particularly manwe) literally trapped him and chained him to his position.

Lirion has his home lab in Greenwood (i really need a name for the capital city of Greenwood), where he does spend a lot of time (bc he’s our favorite aroace introvert), but he also goes out regularly in order to learn sciences from other people and places. This one has a thirst for knowledge that eclipses most others. Ironically enough, despite not being the biggest fan of other elves, he somehow set up a penpal system between elven (and later human/dwarven/whatever other mythical races that exist) inventors, where they swap and argue over theories and discoveries.

Kleoyia is pretty much never in Greenwood, always out gathering information and distributing it between the silvan’s allies. She also regularly keeps track of and hunts down criminal organizations that partake in things like slavery, so she’s always on the go. Occasionally she comes home fore a few decades, but she’s been in the winds pretty much since she was a young adult. She does keep in regular contact woth the rest of her family though, in one form of or another, so it’s not like she’s missing.

Legolas gives off the impression to the other elves (namely the noldo/sinda descendents) as someone who stays in mirkwood bc he’s almost always there whenever other elves come to mirkwood, and he visits Elrohir and Elladan and Arwen often, but his work as a fixer requires him to go from one place to the next at the drop of a hat all to often. And the jobs he does are always on a wide range, one assignment might have him as a teacher, another as an ambassador, other times as infiltration. It’s truelly never boring. He is the only one to have a family of his own for the longest time, and as a result he does stick to Greenwood more often for his spouses and kids, but his spouses and kids are also often out and about and doing their own thing, and he’s just as likely to meet them when he’s away as when he’s home.

Now, you might be wondering why this flighty family is the one chosen to rule over the Silvans considered they’re almost never there? A combination of connections, competence, loyalty, and neutrality. Yeah, they might not live there all the time, but they all ultimately come back (which, in the silvans’ eyes is a much more important trait than keeping someone trapped in one place). Also, they are really good at their jobs, both in regards to their own people and their relationship with other elven nations.

The thing about Thranduil and Legolas and their family is that, if it weren’t for their royal obligations, they would be in the wind 80% of the time, they’d wonder so far and wide it’d make Gandalf’s title of the gray pilgrim look like child’s play.

The only reason any of them stay in one place for more than a millennia at all is if they have people to take care off.

Many people and elves are under the impression that silvans are isolate and stationary, but the truth is that they are a largely free spirited group of elves that will come and go as they please, it’s just that Greenwood (later known as Mirkwood) happens to be their home base, and they later needed to put most of their effort into defending it.

[forasgaard]

Love your work!😍Can i have the will to request a Roxto X reader where he feels like he isn’t good enough, kinda like comparing himself to the other guys in the village esspecily Aonung. The muscle mass, their hunting skills, riding ilus. You didnt know at first, because you found him perfect in every way, his smile, his comforting words and touch, his eyes, hes also very good making braclets out off sheels, so he often makes you cute gifts you love so much. One day you find him crying on the other side of the island when you were out picking some fruits to him and yourself, you rush over to him and comfort him, hugging him and stroke his back. You ask what is wrong but he stays quiet clinging himself on you.

Suddenly he asks you if hes good enough, if hes a good mate, if you truly love him and dont fake it, EVERYTHING! Poor Roxto😭😭🫶🫶

~ First of all, thank you so much, this request was so fun! And such a good idea!

And I am truly sorry - my titles are always so bad. If you have a better title idea, pls comment ~

pairing: Roxto x Y/N

warnings: fluff, angst

words: 1.4k

Masterlist

Not Enough

Happily, you jumped over the woven pathway towards the marui, where your boyfriend Roxto lived with his parents. It was almost the middle of the day and you hadn't seen him even once today.

All the metkayina people were doing their work, cooking, fishing, or all the other duties that were necessary to keep the village running.

Your best friend Tsireya was probably swimming with that new forest boy. They spend a lot of time together lately and you wondered if they were maybe more than just friends. She and her brother Ao'nung tried to teach the Sully kids how to swim and how to live in this maritime world. It must've been a huge culture shock for them to move from the woods there to the ocean.

You arrived at Roxto's marui and went in without a word. His parents knew you since you were little and they weren't even surprised anymore of you'd come to their home whenever you wanted. But the marui was empty, Roxto wasn't home. You frowned and tried to think of a place he could be. Maybe he joined Ao'nung and the Sullys? Roxto and Ao'nung were best friends since childhood, there wasn't a single where they didn't hang out.

So you went to the beach, covered your eyes agains the sun and tried to find them somewhere out the in the waves.

"Hi", a voice startled you. "Eywa", you gasped and turned around. The little Sully girl stood in front of you. What was her name again? Tuk. Weird name. But she was cute.

"What are you looking for?", she asked. "Have you seen Roxto today?"

She shook her head. "No, just Ao'nung."

"Hm" Your shoulders dropped in disappointment. Where could he be?

Then you two heard a movement in the waved behind you and the other Sully girl appeared. Kiri. She was different from the other Omatikaya, but she always seemed very nice.

"Hi Kiri", you greeted. She gave you a small smile. "Hi guys"

"Have you seen Roxto?" you asked.

"Yeah I saw him going that way" Kiri reached out her arm towards the east and pointed in the area where the lagoons lied.

"Thank you!", excited you followed her direction. What did Roxto want in to lagoons? You guys weren't there for years. When you were children, the lagoons were your and Roxto's secret hideout. Every time your parents annoyed you, you would flee into the lagoons and spend your days there, forgetting all the responsibilities and duties. Buy since you guys where grown up, you didn't come there anymore. You never admitted it in front of your boyfriend, but you missed the careless days in the lagoons.

The sun sparkled on the calm sea, some waves splashed upon the rocky cliffs. A soft breeze untangled your curly hair. You gazed upon the scenery. No one was there, only a few ilus swam though the waves. Then you saw a movement on one of the cliffs. Roxto! You started running, the sand squashing beneath your bare feet. He sat on one of the lower cliffs, his legs dangled from the edge. You wanted to call him from afar but stopped immediately. He seemed odd. His eyes gazed emotionless into the distance and his tail, that usually swirled around all the time, lay still next to him.

You furrowed your brow bone. What was wrong with him? Carefully, you climbed up the cliffs and went closer. "Roxto?" Softly you crunched down next to him. He looked up, turned his head towards you, as if his mind had wandered far away. He gave you a small smile but it was lined with worry. "Hey", you said and sat down close to him. You took his hand, let your legs dangle off the cliff, just like his. "Hey, what's wrong yawne?"

Roxto's fell down to your entangled fingers. "It's nothing"

You gave him a look that screamed 'Yeah sure!' He had to laugh. "No its.." He sighed and his eyes wandered back to the ocean. "I sometimes feel like...", he started but shook his head. You slightly squeezed his hand. "What? Hey, you can tell me everything. You know that." You placed a small peck on his curly hair. A smile crawled on his lips. He shrugged and let out a sigh. "It's the others. Ao'nung and my friends."

Your ears twitched back in surprise. "Your friends? What happened? Did they do something?"

Roxto bit his lip. "No, it's just..." He sniffed and looked away. His shoulder started shaking.

"Hey..." Your heart started acing, seeing him like that. "Are you crying?", you asked softly.

"No" he sniffled. You had to chuckle. "Oh yawne", you pulled him into a tight embrace and now his facade fell. He let out a quiet sob and pressed his face on your shoulder. Caring, you stoke over his back, assuring him that you were there.

"Shh it's okay. You're okay", you whispered in his hears. For a few minutes you just held him, comforting him, until his sobs were gone.

"Do you wanna talk about it?", you asked after a while. Without an answer, he moved his head, his forehead pressing against your neck. Your hands gently stroke up to his hairline.

You guys stayed like that and you almost forgot about your question. But suddenly, he blurted out: "He is my best friend!" You saw down to him. "What?"

"Ao'nung. He is just so good in everything he does!" His shoulders humped together. "He is more muscular than me and much better in hunting. And I mean - he was even the first one to ride an ilu, that's not fair! He is always better than me."

Roxto wiped his hand over his face and you gently squeezed his shoulder. "Ne he's not, you're also good at hunting."

He scoffed. "And then the new guys!", he pulled away from your hug and threw his hand into the air. "Ao'nung is always hanging out with them now. As if I don't exist anymore. I am always not good enough for him" He closed his eyes and his face muscles tensed.

"Roxto", you whispered caring. "I didn't know you feel like this, what have you never told me?" He lowered his gaze. The wind ruffled through his curly hair. "I didn't told you because I was afraid you would think the same. That I am not good enough for you" He spoke so quietly that you almost didn't understand him. Your heart ached when he said it. How could he ever think like that!?

You cupped his face with my hands, forced him to look up into your eyes. "Roxto that's stupid.", you began. His eyes flickered back and forth between yours. "You're perfect in every way. How could you ever think that? I don't care what Ao'nung says or the new guys. You're perfect!" You stroke with your thumb over his cheekbone to comfort him.

"I love you. I see you. Don't ever think that will change! Don't ever think less of yourself. You are the most perfect person I know", you whispered. A slight shimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.

"And you're so good at many things! You're a good fisher, and you're brave and you care for the people." Now that you thought about it, all the good things about him blurted out of you. All these little things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. Excitement sparkled in your eyes.

"And you can build things and make things. I love all those shell bracelets that you make me."

A smile crawled onto his lips and he chuckled.

"I could not imagine my life without you, Roxto.", you said. "And I don't want that. And I want you to know what you're not alone. No matter what happens, I will stand by you." Roxto closed his eyes.

His fingers stroke over your shoulders up to your neck. "I love you", he whispered. You closed the distance and gave him a long kiss. He tasted salty like the ocean. When you guys pulled back, you could see the sun sparkling in his eyes.

"All good?" I asked. A warm smile appeared on his face. "I am so glad I have you", he whispered and placed a heartwarming kiss on your lips again. You leaned your forehead against his. The warm wind covered you like a blanket and the sound of the waves adapted to the beats of your hearts.

"And I am so happy I have you"

[heyiwrotesomethings]

BEST DAY EVEEERRRR. ANYWAY

Aoi kanzaki x she/her pillar reader with the prompt: you dumb fucking bitch I'm gonna fucking kill you. The reader witnesses the scene of uzui slapping Aoi and breaks many of his bones. –i guess being best friends and living with the mistress of the butterfly estate has some perks in situations like this one –. Aoi needs some comfort after that. Later on she makes a kakushi take him to his house and pays him a visit the next day to talk to his wives. Before she leaves she tells them.

{2nd prompt} Ladies the next time your husband touches my girlfriend he won't have hands,just a warning.Ah and thank you for the tea it was lovely.Now,bye bye~ thank u

Retribution

Aoi Kanzaki x She/ Her Reader

A/N: It’s beating up on Uzui Tengen hours again. ✨💪🏻 Always a fun time. Thanks for the request! Word Count: 2,738

(Y/n) was tired to say the least. She had to stay up all night in order to find the weasel-y demons that had been terrorizing a small village to the east. It was a tiring game of whack-a-mole that she hoped she would not have to play again anytime soon.

Currently she was making her way back to the Butterfly Estate as was tradition when she finished any mission because Aoi liked to be able to see for herself that she had made it back in one piece. Though her body was demanding her to shovel a hearty amount of food into her stomach before promptly passing out, she always looked forward to seeing Aoi the most, so she could hold off on giving in to her needs as an organic life form for just a little while longer.

What she did not expect to hear as she approached the gate of the usually serene estate was a loud cry and a stressful sounding struggle. She could recognize the distressed voices of the young girls somewhere just beyond.

“What the hell?”

She easily leapt up onto the fence and took in the scene before her, half convinced that she had fallen asleep somehow and was in the middle of a idiotic stress-fueled dream.

Kanao was hovering over the youngest girls, sweating lightly from the stress of the situation, watching Aoi struggle over one of Uzui Tengen’s stupidly bulked up arms. Around him, Tanjirou, Zenitsu and Inosuke, attempted to free Aoi from his grip, but he dodged them all easily, insulting them all the while.

(Y/n) was already poised to yell, to demand an explanation and return Aoi safely to the ground, but Uzui’s next action drastically changed her plan of action.

“Wow, you kids are weak. I can’t spend one more second entertaining you bland nobodies, got it? Now,” he slapped Aoi in the rear, making her yelp, “we’ll be on our way.”

No need for explanations, (Y/n) didn’t think it mattered anymore. She demanded blood.

“You dumb fucking bitch! I'm gonna fucking kill you!” She bellowed, flying to Uzui at full force.

“Eh?” He didn’t even have enough time to look up before a powerful kick struck him so hard in the stomach, the whole foot looked like it absorbed into his body.

There was definitely some internal damage after a blow like that.

Uzui fell to his knees, both hands cradling his stomach. Both hands.

He forced himself to look up and saw the girl he had been holding now resided in the arms of one of his fellow Hashira, surprisingly not Kochou given that this was her home.

He watched in stunned disbelief as Aoi was gingerly put down and surrounded by the other girls, eyes filled with tears. The trio of boys also came to surround them, making sure all would be well.

All most certainly would not be well. Not for Tengen.

“Don’t worry, Aoi,” she brushed Aoi’s askew bangs back into place, “I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget.”

“Hey, (L/n), what the hell was that f—!”

“You fucking idiot! Disgusting shithead! You tarnish the rank of Hashira! You dare lay your hands on a girl like that, huh?!”

(Y/n) was on him again in a heartbeat, absolutely wailing the shit out of the unsuspecting man. He hadn’t known (Y/n) to be particularly violent. She always seemed like a good-mannered and personable kid during meetings, which was why he was too shocked to fight back. It didn’t help that (Y/n) was putting all of her strength into every blow until it was literally impossible for him to do so.

“I’m gonna force you into an early retirement, asshole! Fuck the Kizuki! Like hell I’m gonna let you walk around thinking it’s okay to hit women! What would your wives think about that? I’m sure they’d be right here beating the shit out of you with me! We’d play double Dutch with your intestines you sick fuck!”

Three pairs of hands were placed on the younger girls’ ears by Kanao, Aoi and Tanjirou. The girls looked like they were covering their eyes with their own hands, but they were peaking through their fingers to watch the gruesome beat down.

Everyone was unable to look away. It was like seeing an awful automobile accident in the city, only no one dared rush in to help. Even Inosuke shuddered at the very audible sound of bones breaking.

“(L/n),” Uzui sputtered, “I’m— I’m sorry, okay? I just needed girl slayers for a mission— to get my wives back— they’re not responding!”

(Y/n) was too busy dislocating his shoulder to listen.

“I think we need to stop her.” Tanjirou said uneasily.

“Are you kidding?! I’m not getting inbetween that!” Zenitsu shrieked.

“Aoi…” Kanao tapered off, causing Aoi’s lips to purse.

Did she approve of the lengths (Y/n) was going to teach Uzui a lesson? Not particularly. Was there a part of her that was kind of enjoying it anyway? …yes.

But before she could attempt to intervene, Shinobu came back from the forest. She had wanted to clear her head and do some mindless herb picking as a way to relax. As soon as she saw the bloody brawl taking place on her lawn, the attempt to relax herself felt moot.

“Can someone please explain to me why (L/n)-san is beating Uzui-san into a bloody pulp on my doorstep?” She asked as evenly as she could.

Kiyo was quick to explain, sniffling and hiccuping as she told Shinobu of Uzui’s attempt to kidnap Naho and Aoi.

“I see…” Shinobu had half a mind to tap (Y/n) on the shoulder to ask if she could cut in and take a turn in beating the man, but it was clear to her that any more, and Uzui would be but a grease-y red stain in the dirt.

Despite being the fastest Hashira, Shinobu took her time walking up to (Y/n) before grasping her wrist, stopping yet another punch aimed for Uzui’s face. (Y/n) turned back to look at her, shocked, as if awoken from a trance.

“(Y/n)-san, I think you’ve made your point. That’s enough for now.” She said.

(Y/n) turned back to look at Uzui and felt her stomach drop a bit.

“Holy shit.”

“That’s my line,” Uzui wheezed, somehow still able to speak, “what the fuck, (L/n)?”

“If you can talk, I expect to be hearing different words coming out of your mouth, Uzui-san.” Shinobu smiled darkly. “Words like sorry and please forgive me and I will never even think of doing such disgusting things again.”

“I, I am sorry. So so so sorry. I just— I‘ll never touch another person without their permission again. I just wanted to save my wives. I needed female slayers to help find my wives…”

“Hmm, looks like you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.” Shinobu informed. “Several broken bones, a heavy amount of blood loss, dislocations, a concussion too I wager… and that’s all just what I see at a cursory glance.”

(Y/n) felt just the tiniest bit bad. If she hadn’t been so tired, her judgment wouldn’t have been so severe. Still, that really really pissed her off. She could sympathize that his wives were missing, but to kidnap girls who were not fit to fight whatever demon was strong enough to disable three highly skilled Kunoichi, was inexcusable in her eyes.

“I’ll find them then.” (Y/n) volunteered. “I’ll set off tomorrow after you tell me all the details you know.”

“We’ll go with you, (Y/n)-san!” Tanjirou boldly offered.

(Y/n) nodded, “See to it that you are ready to go by then.”

A group of Kakushi followed Shinobu’s orders and whisked Tengen away to be treated. For many of them, it was the worst patient they’d seen all year.

(Y/n) watched them carry him off into the mansion then went to stand in front of Aoi with a sheepish look.

“Do you mind if we go somewhere private?”

“After the morning I’ve had? Let’s go.” Aoi took (Y/n)’s hand and pulled her away from the rest of the group.

They kept walking around the perimeter of the mansion until they reached an entrance close to the permanent residents quarters and they closed themselves in Aoi’s room.

“Are you okay?” (Y/n) asked taking both of Aoi’s hands in hers. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“You don’t need to be sorry for me.” Aoi huffed, still feeling fear at how close she came to being taken away and anger for not being able to protect herself and Naho.

“I didn’t mean it like that—“

“I know you didn’t I just— I felt powerless. I still feel powerless. If you and the boys hadn’t intervened, Naho and I would be gone. Now you have to go out on another mission because he can’t anymore, and if it has him acting like this then it will surely be something awful.”

“You can’t blame yourself for that. I chose to beat up Uzui has badly as I did. No one told me to do that. No one told me to take his mission either. You have no reason to feel guilty. Uzui made his choices and I made mine.”

(Y/n) noticed Aoi trembling and hugged her tight.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be back before you know I’m gone. You just focus on keeping Uzui alive so I’m not a murderer, okay?”

Aoi managed a dry laugh, burying her face in (Y/n)’s haori, “If you think I’m going anywhere near that man you are sorely mistaken.”

“I won’t hold it against you.”

Aoi sighed and pulled back, one hand still grasping (Y/n)’s sleeve, “You’ve been out all night, and now you have another big mission tomorrow. You need to eat and go to bed right away.”

“I can stay up a couple more hours. I’ll help you with your chores.”

“No way.” Aoi scoffed. “Why would you want to do that? It makes no sense.”

“So we can hang out more! I missed you.”

Aoi blushed and turned her head away.

“I will eat with you, but then you are going straight to bed so you can get up bright and early to hear the details of your mission, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” (Y/n) deflated a bit, but perked back up when Aoi pulled her out of the room, but not without a very quick kiss.

***

(Y/n) felt the desire to slap Uzui but refrained. A good night’s sleep helped in clearing her mind and kept her from impulsively choking the man with his IV drip.

His mission was in the Red Light District. He was going to “sell” Naho and Aoi to different houses in order to retrieve information about the whereabouts of his wives and the demon they had been hunting.

Now she and the rowdy trio, along with Nezuko of course, would be going in their stead. The residents of the mansion saw them off, wishing them good luck. (Y/n) caught Aoi in the crowd, they had a private moment earlier in the morning for a proper goodbye, but she made sure to blow her a quick kiss. Aoi rolled her eyes, cheeks tinged pink and (Y/n) grinned before turning towards the path ahead.

***

An Upper Moon. An Upper Moon that was two demons in one. It had not been an easy fight to say the least, but somehow they came out on top. Aoi was going to kill her for how beat up she was, but she was alive at the moment. The whole team was miraculously. Tengen’s wives were grateful for the assistance, but one question persisted.

Where was their husband?

(Y/n) knew it would be better to tell them the truth now rather than dance around it. They were understandably pissed at (Y/n), but she had restrained herself from killing their husband and saved their lives so they counted the score as even. It may have also helped to hear the reason for the vicious attack as it seemed because on they way back home, (Y/n) could hear them whispering harshly about teaching their husband some manners.

Everyone back at the Butterfly Estate was ecstatic over their return. They were immediately whisked away to the infirmary.

Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru piled onto Uzui who had healed remarkably well while they were gone. Make no mistake he was still kind of fucked up, but considering where he started he looked good.

Aoi chewed (Y/n) out relentlessly as she tended to her wounds. She had been so worried! She stayed by her side for hours, monitoring her recovery with a close eye.

Uzui and his wives went home a few days later, but not before Uzui gave a proper, fully conscious apology to Aoi and Naho. He really felt bad about what he had done and what bringing them to the Red Light District would have lead to.

After a couple months of rest and recovery training, (Y/n) and boys were back in tip top shape and ready to get back to duty. But before (Y/n) felt things could truly go back to some form of normalcy, she needed to talk to Uzui just once more.

Although Aoi acted like she was fine, (Y/n) could still tell that the encounter weighed heavily on her. Especially when her eyes would linger on (Y/n)’s new scars. If she hadn’t been grabbed by Uzui, (Y/n) wouldn’t have beaten him up. If (Y/n) hadn’t beaten Uzui up, she wouldn’t have gone on that mission. (Y/n) spent a lot of time trying to dissuade that line of thinking, but Aoi could be stubborn. It would take time for her to believe (Y/n)’s assurances.

So in an attempt to make sure nothing like that ever happened again, (Y/n) caught a ride with a Kakushi who knew the path to Uzui’s Estate to offer one last warning.

Her welcome was more well received than she thought it would be. Suma was actually happy to see her and gave her a hug. Hinatsuru was polite, greeting her kindly before going off to make tea. Makio forgave but she was not going to forget. She offered a stiff nod of recognition and watched (Y/n) with an air of caution.

When Hinatsuru had told Uzui that (Y/n) was visiting, he broke out into a sweat. His bones had only just healed. His skin no longer littered with purple and yellow bruises. The only lingering issue was the slight limp in his step, and even that was supposed to go away with a little more time and physical therapy. He was afraid of seeing all of that progress crumble at the hands of his fellow Hashira.

“Why is she here?” He hissed, peaking into the room where Suma was animatedly talking to (Y/n), “Did someone pin the blame me for something?”

“She isn’t staying long. She just wants to… make something clear? I think those were the words she used. Just don’t say anything stupid and you should be fine.” Hinatsuru said, readying the tea tray.

They entered the room together, Tengen behind Hina, and joined the group at the table. Hinatsuru poured (Y/n) a cup and she thanked her, taking a sip soon after.

“This is very good, thank you for letting me stop by. I won’t take too much of your time.”

“Of course. May we ask what prompted your visit?”

(Y/n)’s eyes rose to meet Uzui’s over the rim of her cup and smirked when he visibly flinched. Something told her she really wouldn’t have to worry about Uzui making the same mistake twice. Word spread fast, and the rest of the Hashira gave him an earful once Shinobu spilled the tea about how he had come to be so badly beaten.

“Ladies, if your husband ever tries to touch my girlfriend again, he won’t have hands. Just a warning to really make sure my point hits home.”

(Y/n) downed the rest of her tea, followed by a pleasant sigh. Oblivious to the four faces that had paled considerably at her words.

“Ah,” she added as she stood and walked towards the door, “and thank you again for the tea. It really was lovely. Bye-bye now!”

(Y/n) left them in petrified silence and began her walk back to the Butterfly Estate. She intended to drag Aoi away from her work for a nice afternoon out.

[honeycombstrawberry]

Is it too much of me to ask for Bruce Wayne x Reader x Adrian Chase?

gotham's triptych

pairing: bruce wayne x adrian chase x reader (gn pronouns)

rating: e+

word count: 5,168

one-sentence synopsis: the three defenders of gotham knock off a little early tonight to take care of themselves.

author's note: i tried to keep my descriptions of the reader's genitalia as gender neutral as possible as well!!! i hope everyone enjoys the brainworms that are currently FEASTING on me!!!!!!!! i NEED bruce and adrian to both take care of me!!!!!!!!!

read on ao3!

Batman works alone.

Except— Not really. Not anymore, anyway.

Maybe that used to be true, that Batman would prowl the streets of Gotham, lurking alone in every shadow, an ever-present spirit in all senses of the word. It’s been some time since Batman truly worked alone, however. Not since you and Adrian relocated to the East Coast; not since (Y/S/N) and Vigilante started pitching in to help Batman battle Gotham’s rogues.

Not since the three of you did more than fall into fighting together; you fell into bed together, too. You fell into step with one another, becoming one seamless unit.

Though technically you and Adrian have your own apartment in the heart of the city, you spend most of your time on the outskirts, in the fringes of Gotham where Wayne Manor sprawls, palatial, cascading and sweeping grounds of lost buildings and overgrown wood-growth.

It’s through these trees that the three of you now rocket. Bruce navigates the Batmobile seamlessly, weaving between thick trunks that you’re sure you would collide with if you were the one behind the wheel.

Beside you, Adrian is talking a mile a minute, his voice slightly muffled by his mask, still tugged down over his face. “We showed him his whole ass! We really fucking nailed him, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, we did,” you agree, and Adrian whoops, practically throwing himself up out of his seat. You wrestle him back down, laughing, and Adrian reaches across you to smack at Bruce’s arm.

“When you threw that guy at me and I stabbed him in the fucking shoulder?” he exclaims. “Oh, the fucking coolest—”

You have to admit, when the three of you had first gotten together, you weren’t sure how this was going to work. Bruce is so strictly against killing people, whereas Adrian is more than willing to kill someone if he catches them stealing so much as a lollipop from a child. Through you, they were able to find a middle ground, and then a balance. Though it took time, they not only loved you, but loved each other, until the three of you loved and supported each other regardless of your differing views and approaches.

You do have to compromise when you work together, though. The agreement is that you and Vigilante don’t kill in Gotham, and Batman doesn’t ask or get involved when you two have to return to the 11th Street Kids for a mission that might involve more than minor loss of life.

Adrian whoops again, banging his hands down rhythmically on the dashboard in front of him. “Fuuuuuck,” he draws out loudly, then leans back, flinging his arm across your shoulders where you sit between him and Bruce in the front of the Batmobile. His fingers trail along Bruce’s bare cheek until they meet his cowl, tapping up into the space under his eye. You can see his fingertip get smudged with black in the process. “We’re the fucking coolest.”

Bruce’s lips twitch, and he says, “You just like to show off.”

“So?” Adrian demands. You laugh; Bruce actually smiles this time. “Who wouldn’t want to show off? I’m one of the most badass heroes in the entire country— and I’m coast-to-coast— and I’m kicking ass and licking dick with two of the greatest people who have ever lived.”

“Jesus Christ,” you laugh. Adrian squeezes Bruce’s shoulder through the heavy armor of the suit. You’re sure he can’t feel it, but he reaches up and puts his hand over Adrian’s for just a moment, glove over glove.

“Not inaccurate,” Bruce comments, and you nudge his thigh. He flickers a smile again.

You’re about to reply, but then the ground is rising up above your heads, the tunnel in the earth that leads to the subterranean Batcave opening up to accept the three of you. Bruce steers the Batmobile with expert precision, navigating like a bullet, until you’re coming to a silent, slamming halt in the darkened Cave.

Adrian’s already pushing the top open, hoisting himself up and out before turning to offer you a hand to do the same. Bruce puts his hands on your waist to lift you up to him, passing you from his arms to Adrian’s.

“Careful,” Bruce murmurs, taking care with the ankle you rolled earlier. You know it’s not broken, and probably barely even sprained, but he and Adrian had both overreacted, and were continuing to do so.

“I got ‘em,” Adrian assures him. Once you’re out of the Batmobile, he takes your weight, pulling your arm around his shoulders, letting you lean into his side.

“It’s really not that bad,” you tell them. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“If you don’t take care of it now,” Bruce says, following the two of you out, “it will only get worse.” He stops you both once you’re in the proper central part of the Batcave so he can scoop you up, sitting you on top of one of the work tables. Adrian hurriedly clears papers and tiny bits of gadgetry off so you can sit more comfortably. Bruce looks you in the eye, bright blue meeting you firmly from the other side of his cowl. “Then we’ll have something to worry about.”

“He’s got a point,” Adrian agrees, and you scowl at him, too. He finally tugs his mask off, freeing his red face and his crushed-flat curls, breathless as he smiles at you. “Now, don’t make that face. There’s nothing wrong with us wanting to keep all your joints attached to you.”

Bruce kneels to unlace your boot and work it carefully off. Your ankle may not be broken, but it does hurt, and you bite back a hiss as the motion jostles you, sending a bolt of pain up your leg.

Adrian squeezes your shoulder, says, “You’re taking it like a champ, champ. Grin and bear it. I’ll get you some ice.”

He darts off to Bruce’s storage freezer specifically for his multiple industrial ice packs. Bruce keeps his focus downwards, removing your sock so he can examine your ankle himself. After a beat, he reaches up and tugs his cowl off, letting it hang off down his back instead so he can get a better look.

“This’ll hurt,” Bruce apologizes to you, eyes flickering up. He’s got such ridiculously long eyelashes, you can’t help but notice. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him. He nods, then returns his attention to your ankle. You can already see the bruising where you landed when you twisted it, when the joint gave and fell under you when you were tackled sideways. You’d honestly expected your ankle to snap, so you’re pretty happy with this much milder turn of events.

The way Bruce and Adrian had both shouted when they saw you go down, though, lingers in the back of your mind, a fire that burns in the bone marrow of your spine.

“Here we go,” Adrian says, sliding back to take a knee beside Bruce. He passes off one of their several first aid kits to Bruce. He keeps himself busy pushing the ice pack to your ankle, asking, “How’s that feel, babe? Better?”

You nod, tell him, “Yeah, thank you,” and he kisses the inside of your knee. You lean forward, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair, and he twists up into your touch like a particularly affectionate cat, pushing his head further into your hand.

“Hold on,” Bruce says. “I’m going to wrap this.”

You nod, and your grip tightens slightly in Adrian’s hair as Bruce takes your ankle again and starts evenly, tightly wrapping it with bandages to keep the muscles supported and help them recover. He makes quick work of it, and you breathe evenly, keeping a steady head until it’s done. It really doesn’t hurt that bad, especially when you compare it to some of the worse injuries the three of you have managed to collect. On a night like this, when the worst of it is a rolled ankle— and not even on one of the men you care about, but on you, which is vastly preferable to you— you can’t help but feel lucky.

“There,” Bruce says, his hands lingering as he fastens the end of the bandage with a small metal clasp, hooked into the fabric. When he’s finished, he hesitates, then leans in, drawing your leg just a bit closer with a hand around your calf to kiss the inside of your leg, just below your knee.

“Thank you,” you tell him, and he nods before standing. He offers you a hand at the same time Adrian does, so you take both of them, letting them support your weight between them, even if it isn’t strictly necessary.

“What time is it?” Adrian asks.

Bruce seems to check nothing at all before he informs you both, “Just after two o’clock.”

“Dope!” Adrian squeezes your waist where his hand is supporting you. “We have plenty of time before sunrise.”

The three of you are not necessarily functional during the day, but you do at least try to get some sleep before the sun rises, if you get a chance. When you turn to Adrian to ask him what, exactly, he’s planning on you doing if not sleeping, he seizes the chance to steal a kiss, turning just enough to claim your lips with his.

Bruce’s arm is still around you, and you lean into Adrian, letting him deepen the kiss for a moment before you separate. When you withdraw, eyes flickering up to meet his, your heart quickens a bit.

“He’s right,” Bruce agrees behind you. You shift a bit to look back at him, but you don’t get there before Bruce is ducking down to press his lips to the space just behind your ear, warm breath over thin skin.

Breathless, you say, “Well—” but your words cut off again when Adrian drops his own head to kiss your throat on the other side. Caught between the two of them, unable to move, your heart rabbits in your throat. “I suppose if— If you insist.”

Bruce huffs a low chuckle over your skin.

“If we insist,” Adrian comments to him, and you feel the twist of his own smile against your skin. “Do we insist, B?” Bruce nods, his head brushing yours as he does. “And there you have it, babe. Now, c’mere—”

Adrian abruptly drops and knocks your knees out from under you, sweeping you up into his arms in a too-fast rush. Your breath rushes from your lungs, and then you’re steady again against Adrian’s chest.

He navigates Wayne Manor like he’s never been here before, despite the fact that the both of you know the place pretty well. He is fairly distracted, still trying to kiss you while he’s carrying you. It ends up being left to Bruce to actually lead you to his bedroom.

Well— Technically, it’s only his bedroom. You and Adrian don’t actually live here, not technically, not really. You want to— You think you might soon— But you don’t know how to make that next step. Even if it is only Bruce’s bedroom, though— technically— it feels like it belongs to all three of you. Bruce’s heavy curtains across the windows, his rich covers on the overlarge bed, his journals and papers spread across the sprawling dark wood of his desk. Adrian’s books collected on shelves against the wall, his sweaters abandoned on the chair in the corner, his basket of embroidery beside the bed. Your clothes scattered by the laundry, your computer stored on the side table, your shoes by the door.

A room for the three of you to just be. Here, you don’t have to protect anybody but yourselves; you don’t have to be anybody but yourselves. You don’t have to be Batman, and Vigilante, and (Y/S/N). You barely have to be Bruce, and Adrian, and (Y/N). Instead, you become one unit together, you-and-you-and-me, inseparable.

Adrian deposits you in the center of Bruce’s bed. While Adrian had left it a mess that morning, Bruce had taken the time to halfway make it. It looks like Alfred still did what he always does, though, and came in at some point to make it more neatly, tightly-tucked hospital corners.

Those corners come loosely undone as Adrian starts unfastening your pants and tugging them down and off. Bruce helps him so he doesn’t jostle your ankle too much in the process, and, between the two of them, they make quick work of what remains of your costume.

Now, when you’re bare, you feel like it’s a little unfair that they’re both in their full armor. When Adrian starts to climb back up into bed, you reach out, pushing him away.

“Everything off first,” you instruct him. Looking from him to Bruce, you firmly say, “You, too. No suits in bed tonight.”

Bruce reaches up to start removing his armor, but Adrian beats him to it. Rather than taking off his own suit first, Adrian starts working on Bruce’s. He takes it apart piece by piece, depositing them aside less carefully than Bruce might, but more carefully than he would with his own things, which you consider a win.

You watch Bruce watching Adrian while he does it, feeling an indescribable feeling shivering through you. Through Bruce doesn’t often vocalize what life was like before the two of you showed up, you know enough of it to know that he was not only horribly, unspeakably lonely, but also believed himself to be— repressed, in many ways. Afraid to feel and afraid to reach out and afraid to let himself love.

Now, that doesn’t seem further from the truth. You can see love and feeling and closeness in Bruce’s expression as his eyes track Adrian while he undresses him. It’s a specific kind of intimacy, an unspoken sort.

Bruce utilizes it in turn, flipping Adrian back when he’s undressed so he can do the same to him. Vigilante’s armor ends up in the same pile as yours and Batman’s, a heap of bulletproof fabric and Kevlar and leather that still vaguely smells like rain and blood. The three of you are already sweat-sticky; you resolve to shower later, knowing it would only be useless now.

“C’mere,” you finally allow, reaching out with one hand. Adrian climbs up onto the bed without hesitating, sliding up over you until he’s straddling your waist, dipping down to kiss you.

The bed dips behind you, Bruce’s weight sinking the mattress just slightly by your head. You let your eyes drift open in the split second before Bruce is slotting himself along your side and Adrian’s, his hand winding around your chest between you, his lips finding your throat. Adrian bruises your lips while Bruce does the same thing to your skin.

“Please,” you say, and Adrian sighs against your mouth, his lips turning up into a smile you can feel.

“Please what?” he asks. He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Please touch you? Please kiss you? Please fuck you—”

“Please,” you repeat, “All of that, yes, please—”

Bruce huffs a laugh, breath spreading down your skin, ghosting over the wet patch he’s left. You can feel the slight sting of a welcome bruise there.

“Your fucking mouth,” Adrian groans. His hand drops, his bright eyes focused on you, jade that shines like the jewels they are when his thumb pushes into the center of your bottom lip, drawing it down. “I want to fuck it. Can I?”

You nod, a spark shooting down to explode in your stomach, desire and lust that slither through you like pulsing waves of flame. Beside you, Bruce makes a low, desperate sound in response.

“You can, too, if you ask,” Adrian reminds him. “But you’ll have to ask nicely.”

You’re already laughing, and Bruce’s hand threads up to cup your face, turning you in so he can drag his nose along yours. He pauses just before he kisses you, his lips brushing yours when he tells you both, “I want—” then stops again.

“C’mon,” Adrian coaxes him. He sits back on your lap, his cock already most of the way hard and flushed. He takes himself in hand almost absently, stroking himself once, twice as he watches Bruce. “We won’t know if you don’t say, c’mon.”

“Can I fuck you?” Bruce asks, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

Adrian’s hand smooths down the broad planes of Bruce’s back, soaring over scars and hard muscle. You nod jerkily, welcoming the touch when Adrian’s fingers move from Bruce to you, unhesitant as he shifts from body to body.

“Yeah,” you tell Bruce. You swallow thickly, and he drops his head in, his eyes fluttering shut so he can dive into a kiss with you.

His kiss is deep, then deeper, licking behind your teeth with a smoldering heat that builds steadily into a blaze, burning and growing and burning and growing until you’re practically writhing between the two of them. Bruce at your side, holding you in place, and Adrian above you, pinning you to the bed, keep you from going anywhere, and you couldn’t feel more secure here, more turned on, more held.

“Okay, here we go,” Adrian says, and hauls himself up and off of you. You’re eager to get in between them, a familiar position and a favorite for the three of you.

You get onto your hands and knees with rapid speed, and Adrian draws up in front of you, taking your chin in his hand. His thumb strokes along the skin under your eye, holding you there as Bruce climbs up behind you in bed. You can feel the heat of him just before he drapes over your back, leaning over your head to kiss Adrian.

You can hear the slick sound of their kiss, a hot, wet exchange before Adrian makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. It sends a rocket of lust through you, and your thighs clench, body wanting to be filled with nothing in it yet. Bruce exhales into the kiss, and you make an involuntary sound, wriggling between them.

Bruce separates from the kiss. You see Adrian’s already grinning, and he draws your face back up as Bruce repositions behind you. His fingers slip between your thighs, trailing from the inside of your knee up until he’s almost touching your core. Every single tiny bit of skin he touches lights up, and your head starts to fall forward when you can’t hold it up anymore.

Adrian catches your face for you. He climbs onto his knees, his cock in one hand and your face in the other, stroking your cheek. You let him part your lips, but then you inhale sharply, feeling Bruce’s fingertip as it slides through to your slick entrance.

You groan out, “Fuck, please—” and Bruce gives you what you’re asking for, if only in small increments. His finger slowly pushes into you, your body relaxing in fractions, soft, wet warmth that envelops him.

It’s not until you’re writhing, unable to hold still as Bruce fucks you with one finger— then two, then three— that Adrian slips his thumb into your mouth.

You make an automatic noise, overjoyed to have something in your mouth, even if you’d prefer his cock. Your blood is on fire now; you want nothing more than to be filled, everywhere, in all ways. You’re starving for it, and you can’t take it if the two of them deny you any longer.

Adrian doesn’t seem like he can take it anymore, either, because he doesn’t linger at your mouth. His fingers come away, and then he’s returning with his cock, hard and flushed, the tip glistening. You see a drip roll down the length of his cock as you watch. You lick out instinctively, wanting to taste, and Adrian shudders when you do. You lap up the salty taste of him, sweat and pre-cum, heavy on the back of your tongue.

Adrian shifts again, and you’re finally able to get the head of his cock into your mouth. He holds the base of it, guiding it between your lips, feeding it to you until you’re swallowing around him. You’re an expert at this by now, taking him to the back of your throat.

Above you, Adrian’s trembling, his hands holding either side of your face as tenderly as if you were made of glass, a fragile, precious thing between his palms. His thumbs sweep down your cheeks, over the stretch of your lips, spread around his cock.

Behind you, Bruce moves again. He’d been giving you space to stop you from getting too overwhelmed, but now that Adrian is filling your mouth and you’ve settled on him, letting him start a slow rhythm fucking into your mouth, Bruce is starting to search again. His hot, hard cock brushes the back of your thigh when he shifts up onto his knees behind you.

“I’ve got you,” Bruce says, his hand coming up to rest between your shoulders, stroking down the center of your back. “Shh.”

You nod just slightly, eyes fixed upwards on Adrian’s face. It’s not easy to focus on sucking his dick while you’re getting fucked in both directions, but it’s not really on you to be fucking either of them right now. They’re fucking you, and you’re more than ready to give yourself over to them completely.

Bruce’s hand strokes down to grip one of your hips. His other hand comes up to guide his own cock to your slick entrance, pushing in just a bit, at first, then all at once. Your breath punches out of you, harsh through your nose, and your eyes flutter shut at the sensation.

For a moment, none of you move at all. Bruce is still, and Adrian is even silent, the both of them giving you a second to adjust to the feelings. It’s not bad— it’s good, so good, too good. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating in the best way, and you breathe evenly, feeling your eyes burn. It’s pure pleasure, coursing through you; you feel safe, held, desired, and want to push that all back out in return.

You let your eyes drift back open. They flicker upwards so you can look to Adrian through your lashes, unable to do much else in this position. Your fingers clench down in the sheets, your arms holding you up as Adrian finally starts to move.

“I can’t even fucking tell you how much I love doing this,” Adrian says, words spilling from his throat now that he’s letting himself go again. “Oh, fuck, I swear to God, it’s like every fucking wet dream I’ve ever had, holy fucking shit—”

He breaks off with a high noise, his head falling backwards, exposing the lean line of his throat as he fucks into your mouth. His hands frame your face still, filling your mouth and down into your throat as Bruce starts to fuck you, too.

Bruce’s cock is sheathed entirely inside of you, and he draws back only slightly, at first. His hands bruise your hips, his grip is so tight, and he starts fucking you in earnest. His slow, rolling, rhythmic grinds are the perfect complement to Adrian’s dirty deep-throat thrusts. The both of them are rough in their own gentle ways, aggressive in a comforting way, claiming you without taking anything from you.

Your eyes burn again, and you can feel tears in them. Adrian’s thumb sweeps under one eye, and he asks, “You’re okay?” in a wrecked voice.

You blink once, your way of answering yes when you’re like this, with no other way to respond. Adrian brings his thumb up to his mouth and kisses it before he reaches down to push the pad into the space between your eyebrows, transferring the kiss between you, and you can’t help the slight laugh that comes up.

He’s gut-punched, a breathless laugh of his own coming out in response to however that feels. In turn, you clench around Bruce, and he groans, deep in his throat. His body shifts forward, heat and weight blanketing you, his hands gliding up to keep you held fast to him as his speed and force increase.

One of Bruce’s hands briefly leaves you, lifting up. You’re not sure where he’s going before you realize he’s reaching for Adrian. He grapples for him above you, the two of them drawing each other into a kiss right above your heads. You can hear the sound of it, their cocks forced deeper into you by the new angles. It has you near hysterics, chasing an edge you can’t reach without them, your thighs pulling together, desperate for just one last bit of friction.

When Bruce and Adrian separate, Bruce seems to realize just how fucked up you are, just how badly you need to cum. He reaches down around you, gets his hand at your core where you want it most, and you gasp out, shuddering, sweat rolling down your face to drip off your chin to the covers below.

Adrian’s hand skims down your shoulder, grips it tight, sweat sweeping up in pools under his fingers. Everywhere he touches is electricity, made even more explosive by Bruce’s hand working on your center. The sensations are pulling, and growing, and blazing, hotter and stronger and all-consuming until you’re shuddering apart between them.

Speared on Bruce’s cock inside your entrance and Adrian’s cock sheathed in your mouth, you can do nothing but tremble between them as you find your release. You soak Bruce, and your walls clench around him, and he gasps out, too.

Bruce’s head drops down, face burying between your shoulder blades. He pushes his hips in once, twice, and then stills, stiffening, as he floods you with his orgasm. His mouth works without conscious direction, teeth scraping over your skin.

“Oh, fuck,” Adrian gasps out above you both. You’ve got tears streaming down your face, and Adrian’s cupping your face in his hands and cumming, cursing, “Oh, fucking— Motherfucker, this is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my entire fucking life— Fuck— Fuck— I fucking love you so fucking much, what the fuck—”

His words cut off as his breath goes, panting gasps that whistle in and out of his throat. You’re starting to grow exhausted, warm pleasure melting through you, your body finally satiated. Your rolled ankle is smarting a bit, but it feels like nothing in comparison to the overwhelming contentment and satisfaction you feel.

You swallow what you can from Adrian, his release spilling from your mouth when you can’t take it all in time. You relish the feeling of it, the both of them filling you from both sides, kept so neatly between them.

Your chest is heaving; when Adrian finally withdraws, pulling his cock from your mouth, your sore jaw falls loose, and you suck in great breaths, filling your lungs in gasps. He takes your shoulders, holding you up while Bruce slips out.

You cry out at the feeling of emptiness, missing them inside you, and they gentle you down onto the mattress. Bruce climbs up and out of bed to retrieve a washcloth for the three of you while Adrian strips off the top cover, tossing it over with your uniform pieces, a fluid-stained mess that could only be uncomfortable to sleep with.

When Bruce returns, warm washcloth in hand, you surrender to their tender ministrations. Bruce carefully cleans every inch of you, bit by bit, taking special care near your mouth, between your thighs.

You feel sore and bruised; you’re sure you look it, too, by the way their eyes linger, by the way Adrian strokes his fingers along your jaw and says, “Fuck, you’re fucking hot like this.”

You can’t help remembering what he said earlier. ‘I fucking love you so fucking much,’ he’d said, and you’re supposed to know better than to believe people who say things like that while you’re having sex, but— you can’t help but feel that this is— different.

Your racing heart is in your throat, only just now starting to slow and calm. You let Bruce settle you in Adrian’s arms, now that the three of you are clean, and you finally venture to ask, “So—”

“We can pretend that didn’t happen,” Adrian rushes to cut you off, already knowing exactly where you’re going. “It just slipped out, we don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you stop him. Hope surges in your chest, and you tilt your head up, cheek smushed to Adrian’s shoulder. “I love you, too.”

He grins, happier than you think you’ve ever seen him in his life. He ducks his head to kiss you again, a smiling press. You’re lost in the joy of it, for a moment, before you feel Bruce climbing into bed beside the two of you.

While you and Adrian had already known each other, Bruce is newer to this relationship. Not new, but newer, and you’re not sure if he’s going to feel comfortable saying anything in return. You’re not expecting anything, even if you do love him, too, love him in the same way you love Adrian, in the same way you hope they love you.

Even though you don’t expect Bruce to speak, he tucks himself behind you. The three of you share his massive bed, you tucked in between them, and Bruce’s hand slides over your hip, holding you close. His fingertips drift to brush over Adrian’s belly, with how close you all are.

“I love you, too, big guy,” Adrian says to Bruce over your head. You tilt up to watch them, seeing Adrian’s eyes meet Bruce’s. There’s amusement in Adrian’s tone, still, but he’s more grounded and serious, direct, when he tells Bruce firmly, “I mean it. You don’t have to say it back, but I want you to hear it. I love you.”

Adrian’s face is all red, flushed to the tips of his ears. Bruce studies him in silence, for a moment; you can practically see the wheels turning in his clever head.

After a beat, Bruce’s cheeks pink just slightly, emotion coloring him only a bit. He leans in, and Adrian meets him for a soft, short kiss.

When they pull apart, Bruce says, “I love you,” and your heart jumps up again, your throat tight. Bruce’s head turns down, and he says, “And you— I love you.” He gathers you both closer, tucked in tightly. Adrian laughs, throwing his arm around you both to curl in.

“I love you,” you tell Bruce, too, even though your face is pushed into his now and you can’t see his eyes properly. Adrian kisses you on the forehead, then Bruce, unwilling to let either of you go.

“This is the best day of my life,” Adrian declares grandly, and he loses the battle to sleep within five minutes, just after you and right before Bruce.

-

adrian chase taglist:

@violetrainbow412-blog @bigassbisaster @amysuemc @sunflowerfive @papitas-con-sal @saturnngal @neptuneswritingwork @jewishdelis @myguiltypleasures21 @pinkygunslingy @violinchick @r3tr0sp3ct @chaseadrian @breathing-in-waves @rishlurh @x-milf-hunter-x @goblynnrockz @theowritesstuff @jaysfav

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

A Light in the Darkness {Part 03 of 07}

Pairing: Eddie Munson X Hargrove!twinsister Reader

Chapter word count: 2 K

Summary: After Billy died, you got stuck in a dark place, where you didn't have to deal with your feelings. Your friends don't know what to do but to drag you away from the many fights you pick. And life was dragging itself, an agonizing day after the other... Until Eddie Munson broke through the very high walls you built around yourself.

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Light

There's peace in the darkness. If you could, you'd spend hours underwater, despite the cold clinging to your bones. With time, you learned to hold your breath for a minute, maybe a bit more, but you never really cared enough to count.

You only swim up, slowly, when your lungs are empty of oxygen, burning for it. Eyes open, you see the faint grey light of the moon on the surface getting closer and closer, until you finally break through, breathing in and out several times. Leaning on your back, you make yourself float, looking at the white moon among the stars. It's always beautiful here, and many times, when you spend too many hours in the lake, you thought about dying here. A peaceful, calm death. Maybe drowning, in the middle of the night when sleep overcomes you. Or hypothermia. Robin warned you about that some time ago.

But still, you come here, several times a week to clear your head.

Sometime later, you're not sure how long, when you swim to the surface again, you see the sky in the East starting to light up, thin clouds painted a dark orange. Sighing, you ignore how heavy your eyelids are after two sleepless nights. Looking towards the shore you came from, you're thankful you ended up close enough for an easy swim, so that's what you do.

Once your feet hit the sand, you walk the rest of the way, bracing yourself against the wind. It doesn't help much since your clothes are soaked. You can't get inside the car now, so you lean against the hood, waiting for the wind to dry you off a little. There's some muttering coming from the walkie you keep in the glove compartment, but you ignore it. They're asking where you are, and by the multiple voices, they woke each other up. “Stupid...” You mutter, because they don't have to treat you like a child. You're eighteen, you can go around as much as you like. Not even Neil can tell you what do to now, since he decided to leave - probably with another woman -. So they can chill.

It's a Sunday, so you don't have to rush to get to school. The sky is all painted blue when you finally move to get inside the car. But when you do, you don't move.

When you were kids, you and Billy used to walk through the streets after Neil did something. It was always a mess. He would be mad, walking three feet ahead, as you would follow, crossed arms and mumbling, cursing Neil under your breath. When you came here, that habit had died down, but things got much worse, so Santa Monica's streets were replaced by the many tracks in the woods around Hawkins. That's how you found Lover's Lake. And that's how you fought with him every time he warned you not to come here because he'd bring a girl here.

You'd give everything to have the chance to argue with Billy again. About anything, really.

He was your best friend, and throughout your lives, you only had each other to rely on when it came to the nightmare you lived in. And when your mother left... You became each other's heroes.

Many times you faced Neil when he was beating Billy, and Billy did the same when you were the target of Neil's anger.

Now you're alone.

Some months after Billy's death, you opened up to everyone about Neil. But after that, you never spoke of it again, and neither did them.

Taking a deep breath, you notice the tears rolling down and wipe them off with the back of your hand, starting the car. You're just about to put the gear on reverse when you hear a car getting close. Checking the review mirror, you don't have time to wonder who would be here this early when you see the van. Takes two seconds for you to recognize it. “Shit.”

Throwing your hands up in frustration, you reach for the glove compartment and takes the walkie. “Hey. Better answer me. What the hell is E-” A knock on the window makes you jump on your seat, shooting Eddie an angry stare. “What the hell is Eddie Munson doing here?” You finish the question as you push the door open. “What are you doing here?”

“(Y/N)?” Dustin's voice comes through the radio. “Are you okay? Over.”

Rolling your eyes, you bring the radio near your mouth. “Of course I'm okay. Why is Eddie here?”

“We were worried!”

“(Y/N), please.” Is Maxine who speaks now. “Where were you all night?”

“Went for a swim.” You reply, raising your eyes to meet Eddie's stare. He doesn't say anything, crossing his arms over his chest. “Lover's Lake.”

She takes a deep breath. “Can you please go back home? I've been looking for you since 4 in the morning. You didn't sleep yesterday, you didn't sleep today...” She trails off, and you can hear the hurt in her voice. “Do this for me, if you don't want to do this for yourself.”

Eddie's eyes narrow at the dialogue, and you try to read what's going on in his mind. “You guys need to know that I'm fine. A lot of people-”

“Don't bullshit us.” Steve's voice comes through. As usual, probably everyone was on the hunt for you.

“Yeah. You know what happens to your body after 48 hours of sleep deprivation?” Robin says, too fast for you to understand. “Well, I do. You'll pass out. Probably behind the wheel. And since you always drive sooooo slow, right, (Y/N)? You'll hit a tree or something and then, boom, next thing we know we're having a funeral.” You can hear her catching her breath on the other side. “Is that what you want? Huh? To leave us? To leave Max?”

“Of course I don't want that!” You shout back, gripping the walkie a bit too hard. “I don't-” It gets caught in your throat, a bitter lump that keeps you from saying anything else.

“Hey.” Eddie's voice is barely a whisper as he moves, slow and carefully, to take the radio from your hand. “Guys? I've got her, okay? I'll make her eat something and take her home. Someone come pick up her car.”

That makes you gasp, raising both eyebrows. You don't like people taking over your life like that. Never have. And you're about to say something when Maxine's voice makes you shut up. “Please, just... Make sure she's alright.”

“I will.” He says and pushes the button to cut the connection. “I know you want to get into your car and just drive away again, probably yell at me in the process, but do as she just said. Do it from them since you clearly don't care much for your own wellbeing.”

It hits you. It really does. Biting your lip, you give him the smallest of nods, that you don't even know what mean. “Okay. Mmm...” He gestures at a house half a mile away, by the lake. “A friend of mine lives there. I could grab something and we can eat by his deck over there.”

“No.” You're quick to say.

“I was expecting that,” Eddie mutters, searching in his pocket. “I... I have enough for some cheap breakfast by the road.” He looks up at you with an apologetic smile. “If I knew we'd have a breakfast date, I'd bring some money with me.”

“Just some advice, you're not funny.” Walking past him, you get into the passenger seat of his van, much to your dismay, watching as he mumbles something to himself and gets inside the car as well.

“I know just the place... But it's out of town.”

“You have to-” You begin, but force yourself to stop. Is he... Trying to be nice? Why would he, after you did nothing but be mean to him? Probably because of your friends. “Drop the act, Munson. You don't have to pretend to be nice just because of a bunch of kids.” Crossing your arms, you lean against the window as he starts to drive off.

“If I was in it just because of your friends, I'd just drop you home and be done with it.” He says, his tone more serious now. Glancing at him, your eyes meet his. “Don't act as if you got me all figured out.”

“I don't. That's exactly what I dislike about you.” You say, averting your eyes and looking at the road ahead. “Among other things.”

“Like what?”

“You really wanna know?”

“Yeah.”

“First of all, D&D is stupid, I don't know why you make it such a big part of your life. Second, you have this whole oh, look at how I'm weird vibe going on, which is also stupid.”

“You're breaking my heart, darling.”

“Yeah. And also, this van is ridiculous!”

“Now you're talking about my car, not me.” He speaks, taking a turn right and taking the chance to look at you. “Is it because you can't find anything else to complain about?”

“Your attitude right now is stupid too.” With that, you reach over to turn on the radio, putting on a music station that you like. Turning the volume up, you lean back against your seat, closing your eyes.

You're awakened by a soft hand shaking your shoulder. Rubbing your eyes, you look up at Eddie before looking around. “Where are we?”

“A couple of miles East of Hawkins.” He says, pulling the door open. “This 24-hour dinner has a nice breakfast menu so I got you some of the best.” When you get out of the car, Eddie jerks his head to the side. “There. Let's go.”

There's a set of wooden tables across from the dinner, near a fence. Looking over it, you see that this road is high, leading to the mountains, and down there, you can see the pine trees. It's a beautiful view under the morning sun.

“I have no idea what you like so I went for the obvious.“ Eddie says. “Vanilla cake, amazing by the way. And... Coffee?“

“I don't like coffee.“ You mutter after thinking twice. You don't want to come out rude after what he did.

“Me neither. I got myself a hot cocoa, you can have it.“

“No, it's okay.“ Sitting down, you pull the slice of cake as Eddie hands you a plastic fork. “How much do I owe you for this?“

“Guys usually pay when it's a date, right?“ He says with a shy smile.

“This is not a date, Munson. Do you really think this is how I show up for a date? “ Gesturing at yourself with the free hand, you bring the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “In a simple shirt and worn our jeans?“ You say once you swallow.

“Well, you look good like this to me so.“ He shrugs.

You know you do. Guys have complimented you before, even when you didn't put much effort into your looks. But this feels different. Eddie feels... Honest. Truly, no games are being played here. “Hm. Thanks.“

“You know what you need?“ He pauses, only to speak again when you shrug. “A party.“

“A party?“

“Yeah. I mean, I didn't get invited, obviously, but I'm sure you were. Kate's birthday or something?“

Nodding, you decide to steal a sip from his hot cocoa. “Yeah. Next Saturday.“

“You should go.“

“But you won't.“

“Wasn't invited.“

“Well, I can bring anyone I want.“

Eddie smiles. “Are you inviting me?“

“Only if you wipe that smile off your face.“

He raises both his hands in defeat, forcing his smile to die. “It's gone.“

“Good.“ You say, focusing on your cake.

The smile does come back to his lips, but you pretend you don't see it. And just like that, too fast for your taste, you decided to go to a party with Eddie... What's happening to you?

@lovesanimals0000

[firefly-in-darkness]

Maybe, Definitely

Pairing → Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Characters → Captain Syverson

Warnings → a bit of flirting, a bit of jealousy... swearing.

Betas → @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.

Prompts → Christmas Baking for @winter2112rose Christmas Event

A/N → I couldn't help but continue their story after writing Home and I may have gone along with some of the other prompts to share more of their history and their future...

PREVIOUSLY // A Captain’s Christmas Series List

Firefly’s Masterlist

The canvas bags in the shopping cart were filled to the brim with packs of flour, icing sugar, chocolates, and candy. The cart had almost rolled away and Syverson caught it before realising it was your runaway. He took in your flustered face, while you balanced a cake mixer on your hip and tried not to drop the bag.

“Thanks, Sy,” you placed the mixer into the trunk and tried to grab the rest, but he instantly shooed you away, making light work of the task.

“That’s a lot of-,” he inspected the packet at the top and smirked, “sprinkles and whipped cream, can I join if being naked is involved?”

You laughed and covered your mouth at his crassness, Syverson thought his heart was going to explode from how much it thrummed in his chest from the lilting sound.

“I’m helping the kids at the community centre out with some festive treats for the bake sale. Clothes are mandatory though, still fancy tagging along?” Your smile was enough to make Syverson agree to anything you wanted him to do. When did he get so whipped?

Syverson didn’t get nervous. Or shy. He oozed confidence, even if there was a teeny tiny bit of doubt in his capabilities, he’d never let it show. But right now, he wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up or pass out. Why not both?

Butterflies were churning in his stomach and sweat was beading at his brow. Thousands of questions were flying his way, fired at him. All filled with the why’s and how’s of his occupation, questions about the parts of the world he’d seen, and even some random ones too.

He preferred being fired at by actual bullets, they were easier to dodge. Well, not exactly, but at least he knew how to react to them. He didn't exactly miss the Middle East, he'd been out there for so long and on many tours, it was like another home, except it wasn't.

Even though the grilling makes him uncomfortable, Syverson is sure that he's going to make it through unscathed, and it’s worth it because he’s with you today and that’s all that matters. He hopes because surely you wouldn’t have invited him along to this event if it didn’t mean something. Bringing him to a place that you are clearly very fond of, amongst those that adore you, had to have a deeper meaning. Getting him involved with the community after being away for so long wasn’t just for his benefit, you wanted to spend the time with him. Right?

You’ve caught his eye as he looks over the small crowd gathered around him, and they all follow his line of sight and start giggling. One of the young girl’s hands shoots in the air, he can’t remember her name and it’s making him feel that nervousness sensation in the pit of his stomach again. How did you do this?

“Yeah sweetheart,” he gestures for her to ask the question that had her almost bursting out of the chair.

“Are you and Y/N boyfriend and girlfriend?” The resounding ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ from the rest of the group of kids would have been comical if Syverson hadn’t been dreading that question.

Syverson had been wondering the same if there was a chance that you could be once again. He worried since the moment he’d left you on your doorstep a few nights ago after meeting for another drink at The Grill, that he was reading too much into nothing. But his grin didn’t leave him on his stroll home, nor did the feel of your palms softly pressing against his chest while giving him a small peck on the cheek.

Of course, the topic of your previous break-up hadn’t been addressed. It’s not like it wasn’t a painful time in your lives but it had been an amicable parting. Maybe there wasn’t a need to talk about it just yet but surely soon it would come up in conversation. He knew that you couldn’t avoid it forever, especially with the way he was feeling, still feeling about you.

He'd only been home a week and he was getting all worked up over a woman. Yet, Syverson had thought of nobody else since you separated all those years ago, you weren't just any woman. You were his woman. And maybe, he hopes, he was your man, or could be again.

The small hole in his heart was slowly weaving back together, each moment spent in your company and the slight brush of your lips against his face, placed another stitch on his mending heart. But then again, he didn’t know everything about you, that much was evident with the volunteering you’d been doing, and you hardly spoke of your old friends. A lot had changed in the years you’d spent apart, and he’d avoided the places you used to hang out in favour of visiting his mother’s ranch or the dive bar just outside of town with his old buddies.

“Afraid not, we’re just old friends.” Syverson shrugged at the echoed groans.

The children began to chatter amongst themselves and that’s when he caught sight of a man hanging onto your every word, touching you. In a flash, he’d raced to your side, chest puffed out and asserting his presence in the conversation. He was being a fucking idiot and a typical testosterone filled man, but he couldn’t help it. He watched you like a hawk when you patted the man’s forearm.

“Jerry, this is Sy, I mentioned that he’d be helping us out today.” You introduced them and placed your other hand onto Sy’s bicep, the warmth seeping through the band t-shirt and stroking his ego.

“Nice to meet you, Gary.” Syverson gritted out, offering his hand in reluctance.

“It’s Jerry,” the man responded, clasping Syverson’s large hand before giving a slight wince at the tight grip.

Syverson smirked at the weaker man, but he didn’t see the sparkle in your eyes or the warm smile that he’d hoped for. He shrugged with a smirk but decided to make an effort with Graham, offering a hand with setting up the tables and chairs.

You clapped your hands together, bringing the men and children’s attention, “who’s ready to do some baking then?”

The kitchen was complete and utter chaos, flour floated in the air and clung to clothes, the icing was smeared across cheeks. Syverson was certain the kids had eaten more of the snowcaps and mini chocolates than they had put into decorating the gingerbread men and their houses.

He continued to clear up the mess as each of the kids was collected by older siblings or parents with enthusiastic waves that caused a warmth to bloom in his chest. Is this what you felt when you worked? Because he completely understood why you’d want to hold onto this feeling.

“Nice work Captain,” You grinned at him, leaning against the door frame.

Hearing his title from your lips made him almost stop breathing. “Not so bad yourself darlin’, what you smirkin’ at?” he wiped his hands on the towel and threw it onto the counter, and you just shook your head, a sheepish look on your features. “Need a ride home?”

You nodded and he followed you out into the hall where you said your goodbyes to Jim. Syverson couldn’t help the growl that rumbled in his chest when the hug lingered for a second too long for his liking. This guy needed to back off.

“G’night Sy,” the man smirked over your shoulder.

“Come on honey, let’s get home,” He ushered you toward the door, “Night Jeremy.”

“You know his name,” you shook your head, smiling, and continued walking out to the parking lot.

“And you know that he likes you.” Sy raised his brow and opened the passenger door to his truck and helped you climb in. Muttering as he jogged across the front, “Can’t blame him.”

“Not interested.” You breathed while he took his seat.

Syverson’s heart shot up to his throat, a lump he couldn’t dislodge as he took in your words. You weren’t interested in Jerry, but could you be interested in him? Again? He turned towards you, watching you click your seatbelt in place and shuffle to get comfortable. You looked good, really good and he would do anything to have you sit in the passenger seat of the truck, by his side, for now, and forever.

“Everything okay?” Your smile faltered slightly and that’s when he noticed the slight fleck of icing on your cheek.

Syverson leaned forward, hand cupping your face and he almost faltered at the soft intake of breath and the way your eyes flicked down to his lips. His thumb swiped at the icing against the apple of your cheek.

“Icing.” He explained and sat back, a grin forming as he started the engine.

“Oh,” You whispered and wiggled in your seat.

Syverson turned out of the parking lot, a knowing smirk fixed to his mouth, you were definitely attracted to him still. He could work with that.

CONTINUE HERE...

Everything Tag List

@impala1967dwinchester @justagirlinafandomworld @miraclesoflove @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @old-enough-to-know-better73 @queenoftheunderdark @supraveng @thefridgeismybestie @valsworldofcreativity @wiccanmetallicrose @wonder-cole @rainbowkisses31 @little-diable

[artemiseamoon]

The Longest Ride 4

Devyn x Jax Teller | Devyn x Vince

Fic info || Ch 1 || ch 2 || ch 3 || Next

Words: 3,751

⚠️warnings: it’s an angsty fic as you know

An: I cannot write accents. You can imagine the person's accent :) We meet Devyns best friend Sabine and spend some time with them in this chapter. I have a moodboard at the end, if you want to see what she looks like and the vibe of the shop. I’ll be completing this fic within a week, there are three more updates to come. 

The Next Day 

Locking the door behind her, Devyn heads to her car in the driveway. Glancing up at the sky, she watched the storm clouds roll in. It was drizzling on and off since she woke up, but the downpour would start any second now. By the look of the sky, it would be a nasty one.

Quickly getting into the car, she starts it up and turns the Bluetooth on for some music. With her hands on the steering wheel, she takes a moment to prepare for the day. She had two clients this afternoon and didn’t want to bring her own shit into the sessions.

Devyn was running out of space between Jax and Vincent. His words stuck with her like glue since the moment he said them,

If you were my girl, I would never treat you like that. I’d put you on the pedestal you deserve! You would be my first priority, not my second, not my third, not the bottom of my fucking list

But Jax met you first. Guess I got to charming a little late

It isn’t easy but after a few breaths, she finds enough calm to get moving. Devyn backs out of the driveway, en route to Luxe Luna.

Luxe Luna was the brainchild of her childhood best friend Sabine Underwood. Devyn had one blood sister who lived out East, but Sabine was like the little sister she never had but always wanted.

Alyse was older than Devyn by 4 years and followed her call for travel pretty early on. She was never home, always visiting somewhere or someone. Though they were sort of close, Devyn felt like an only child until she met Sabine. The two have been attached at the hip ever since.

Like a few other kids who needed a break from Charming, Devyn went out of state for college. During that time, Sabine stayed local, so did Jax, who ended up marrying a girl named Wendy for a brief amount of time.

After college, Devyn found herself visiting more, and extending her stay. There wasn’t anything practically magical about Charming, in fact living there came with some serious cons. But it was nice having some family around, Sabine, and reuniting with Jax.

Over the first year after graduation, she flirted with the idea of moving back. When Sabine asked Devyn if she could help when in town, Devyn said yes.

Soon enough, the move back to Charming was official and she eventually became partners with Sabine. The shop was Devyn's favorite place on Main Street. It felt like being transported into an old school magic shop full of books, candles, incense. Attached to the back was a series of rooms, one of them became Devyn's massage studio.

Over the last four years, one of Devyn's hobbies became a small business. She enjoyed making small-batch natural candles. Now she sold them online and had a few lines created exclusively for Luxe Luna.

On a regular week, between shop things and clients, Devyn was here about 3-4 times a week. It used to be more, but Sabine was pretty hands-on, and her partner was often working at the shop these days.

…

The short drive talks a little longer in the heavy rain, but the trip down memory lane was welcomed company. She spent so much time lately thinking about all this shit with Jax, it was easy to forget the other things that drew her back here.

Exiting and locking the car, Devyn opens her umbrella and heads up the street, occasionally glancing down to avoid stepping in any puddles.

Reaching the middle of the block, the beautiful brownstone is a welcomed sight. Devyn catches a glimpse of Sabine in the left window as she restocks a self.

Many people commented on how good the place smelled, the aroma often hitting their nose before they stepped fully into the threshold. Upon entering, Devyn knew exactly which candle Sabine was burning; she made it special for her birthday.

“I love that you love this one so much!” Devyn closes the door behind her, the little bell stops jiggling.

“I mean it is perfect, so of course.”

Sabine puts the last book in her arms on the shelf and walks over to her friend. The candle was called Autumn Rose, and Sabine appeared like a beautiful manifestation of it. Her rose-colored lipstick, dark brown top, and long flowy dark orange skirt embodied the vibe perfectly.

“How are you feeling today?” She asks compassionately.

“I’m okay,” they hold hands. Sabine studied Devyn's face, “I’m okay. I just needed yesterday to … I don’t even know. But, since Lia is a regular, I figured she would understand better than a new client would.”

“Oh, she was cool about it. Stopped by anyway to get some things for friends. Sure you’re up for working today?”

“Yeah, I think so. I need to get back into it.”

“Well, you should have an easy time. Both are a little older, and asked for gentle work.” Sabine goes over to the small bar and turns the kettle on, “Want to talk about any of it?” She raises her brows, “Jax issues?”

“No,” Devyn waves away the question, “this is my peaceful place. No Jax talk here today. I’m going to get the room ready and then I’ll join you.”

“Sure, I made a new incense, put some in there. See what you think,” Sabine’s eyes are focused on the shelf of jars behind her as she picks a tea for them. “I think you’ll like it.”

“You know me better than anyone, so of course, I will.”

Though her first client of the day wasn’t for another 2 hours, it was nice to sit in this room and connect with it again. No matter what was going on in her life, Devyn took her work and obligations seriously. She tried her best to not let things interfere with her time here. But it was becoming harder and harder over the years.

No, she wasn’t an MC member, but being involved with a member-turned-president was enough to suffer the effects. Depending on what was going on, they ranged from mild to severe.

At the worst time, Sabine asked Devyn to just take care of business and not worry about the place. It was understandable, who would want MC shit dragged into their business.

After setting up and enjoying the room for a moment, Devyn hears a knock at the door. She knows from the rhythm it’s Sabine.

“I was just on my way over to you.”

“I know,” Sabine pauses, “you have a visitor.”

From the way she says it, Devyn knows it’s club-related. Overall, the guys only came by to say hi if nearby or book a massage. The other masseuse was a sweet woman named Deena who came in on weekends and when Devyn couldn’t.

“Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was coming.” Devyn apologizes and heads into the hall. Sabine knew the guys, so it was okay, but she didn't love them being in the shop. They were aware of this and tried to respect her wishes.

Sometimes it felt like having your punk friends come over, and your parents tolerate them but would prefer if they didn't come over at all.

Reaching the front room, Devyn spots Chibs sitting on the bench. The sight of him creates an instant sinking feeling in her gut.

“I went by the house, figured you were here.”

Chibs had this stern wiseness about him, like a guardian Owl. The Scotsman had a soft spot for her and treated Devyn like a daughter. So seeing him was usually a nice sight, but after yesterday and still being in the dark about what they called Vince back for, she felt more worry than pleasure.

“Hey Chibs,” she smiles and hopes her voice sounds cheerful.

“Can I talk to you, it’ll just take a moment,” he stands up. She sees his gaze shift to behind her, where Sabine must be standing.

“I have a client soon, but sure-” she starts thinking of a place they could meet. The rain continues to pound loudly against the pavement.

Sabine catches her eye and points to the second floor. Aside from a second larger office, there was a smaller room they used as an apartment. It came in handy a lot during the early days when pulling all-nighters and becoming too tired to make it home.

It was a small clean room with the basics, but it did its job. The friends share a nod and Devyn leads Chibs upstairs. Once inside the room, he sits in one chair, his eyes following her as she sits across from him on the corner of the bed.

“You know why I’m here?” He asks.

“No. Not really.”

Chibs raises his brows, “ I like you kid. I care about you. But what you’re playing with right now, it’s not smart.”

There it is.

That sinking feeling again. Devyn presses her palms into her thighs and breaks eye contact.

So much for a drama-free day.

“Devvy, what were you thinking?”

“Nothing happened. We’re friends.”

“Friends,” Chibs huffs, “that's what you kids are calling it now.”

“Chibs.” she gets up kneels beside him, looking him in the eyes, “you know me. Am I lying? Nothing has happened.”

He’s quiet as he studies her face. Finally, after a long moment, he says, “nothing yet.”

When she lowers her head again, he gently touches her cheek, “that boy is in - -crazy about you and just as explosive as Jax when set off. He’s a good kid, solid. But this is a disaster waiting to happen.”

“And Jax, do we honestly think he’s making the best decisions. You tell me, you’re at the clubhouse with him. What’s he up to?” She asks with a little more sting than intended.

Chib's dark brown eyes stay steady, he gives away nothing. Feeling annoyed, Devyn stands and returns to her spot on the bed, this time crossing her arms across her body.

“You and Jacky boy, that's what matters. Give him time.”

“I’ve given him nothing but time, Chibs. You know that. And no, please don’t tell me how much he loves me or any of that. I love you guys, but it's like the default script ya’ll give me and I just can’t hear it right now.”

Chibs stands with a sigh and walks over to her. He touches the top of her head and plants a kiss there, “ I didn't come to upset you, just talk some sense into you. Now,” he smoothes his hair out of his face, “Vincent.”

Devyn looks up at him, her eyes growing wider at the sound of his name. Chibs shakes his head, like a parent who hit a wall. He places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes, “he’s fine.”

Devyn watches as Chibs heads for the door. He stops then turns back, “I’m looking out for you Devy. We know Jax. Jax would kill him.”

Emotion wells up in her chest as she lowers her gaze, unable to look at the warning in Chib's eyes any longer. She only raises her gaze when the door closes, then the anger comes.

Sure, she didn’t have proof yet, but Jax was likely out there doing whatever the fuck he wanted, and deciding to put a mountain between them whenever it was convenient for him.

But she makes one connection while trying her damn hardest to resist temptation, and she is the one who gets warned. It was fucked up. It felt like some kind of cruel joke. For all the ways she appreciated and respected Chibs, at this moment she felt only anger and annoyance.

When she returned back to her room, she briefly glanced at her phone to see a text from Vince. Sliding the screen open, she reads it,

Sorry I went MIA. Club shit last night. Chibs has me running around all over the damn place. You okay?

She can’t help the small smile dancing on her lips, even with Chibs' voice in the back of her mind. She writes back and presses send before turning the lights off. She needed to decompress and come down from the conversation with Chibs before she could help anyone relax.

At work, but I’m okay. Glad you are too.

...

After closing the shop down, with the rain outside finally starting to settle down, Devyn and Sabine hang out on the couch eating chocolate and continuing their conversation.

“The east coast shop is going really well. We’re checking out a Southwest location too.”

“I’m so happy for you, that’s exciting.”

“If you ever end up in the East again, you know you could take the reins there. It would be nice to take a little off my plate.”

“Thank you for the offer Sabine, I’ll keep that in the back of my mind. I don’t know if I’ll go back out that way though…so much is in the air.”

“You know what we haven’t done in a while, just for us?” Sabine asks as she gets up. She vanishes behind the desk and reappears with a card deck, “come, reading room! Grab wine.”

“Oh god, the last thing I need to see is my cards. Trust me, I am very aware of my mistakes and….risks.”

Sabine is already down the hall. Devyn grabs a bottle of wine, the one they started the other day and two glasses.

By the time she enters, Sabine is already sitting at the table, cards spread over the red velvet cloth, a lit candle to the left, and an incense cone burning to the right. Devyn sits.

“Go ahead, shuffle them.” She hands Devyn the cards.

After a moment of hesitation, Devyn takes them. She already got reprimanded by Chibs today, Jax kept texting her even though she didn’t read them, and now, the cherry on top, it was the card's turn to yell at her. Plus, she never got a text back from Vince, who always wrote her back. It was safe to assume Chibs got in his head too.

Slowly releasing a breath, Devyn stops shuffling and gives the cards to Sabine. With her free hand, she takes a sip of wine from the glass Devyn placed beside her then starts laying cards out on the table.

Devyn wasn’t as good with these as Sabine, but over the years she gained a better understanding and could already see where this was going. Chugging some wine, she sinks deeper into the chair.

“I have to ask love,” Sabine looks at the cards then at her friend, “are you holding on because you want it to work? Or are you holding on because the alternative is scary, unfamiliar?”

When Devyn doesn’t respond, Sabine keeps going, still pulling cards, “I know you love him, and he loves you. If he wasn't so occupied with the Tara girl in high school, I know for sure you two would have been a thing even earlier. But…you might have to let go, as much as that sucks to hear... “ she taps a card, “ even with all the love here Hunny, I don’t see the cycle breaking anytime soon.”

Sabine frowns.

“Not all past life ties are good or meant to last. Maybe you and Jax, you served your purpose,” Sabine speaks as softly as possible, fully aware of how tender this topic is for her best friend.

Devyn speaks up, “He’s a good guy, with a good heart…that guy is still in there, I think."

“And Vincent? What is he?”

The two friends stare at each other, communicating with their eyes. For a while, Devyn kept Vincent to herself.  She only opened up to Sabine when the girl pretty much confronted her about it, knowing Devyn was keeping a secret.

Devyn shrugs and knocks back the rest of her wine. She thinks about how the talk with Chibs could have gone. Chibs was gentle with her because he adored her. And though he liked Vincent too, she was sure that interaction may have been more ….aggressive.

“Don’t do that, the wall coming up, I feel it -” Sabine shakes her head and pulls more cards. She stops to review them, “look at this. The left is Jax, the right is Vince.”

Devyn sits up straight and puts her hand on the edge of the table. She scans the Jax side, then the Vincent side.

“I know you know enough tarot to get that.”

Sabine sits back, bringing the wine to her lips.

…

Meet me at the clubhouse

Devyn reads the text again as the cab pulls up to the entrance. This was the last place she wanted to be, and the thought of seeing Chibs disapproving stare and whatever state he left Vince in only made her feel more anxious. But Jax kept asking, and after two more glasses of wine with Sabine, she left her car there and came here.

Jax even paid for the cab in advance. Devyn tries to play it cool as she nears the clubhouse entrance. She can hear classic rock playing and lively conversion. Maybe that was a good sign, better than silence or the place is a no man's land.

Before reaching the door, the first person she sees is Chucky, he’s carrying a case of beer. His face lights up at the sight of her as he says hello in French. It must be his new hobby.

“Bonsoir Chucky, here let me help.” She opens the door, holding it for him as he enters.

“Merci. Mademoiselle.”

This little interaction with Chucky takes the edge off. Causing her to enter with a smile instead of anxiously biting the inside of her cheek. Tig, Bobby, and Juice are at the bar with some girls, Chibs behind it.

As she walks over to greet them, she realizes she doesn't see Vince anywhere. Did Chibs have him on some other random mission to make sure they didn’t cross paths?

“Look who it is! We missed you around here!” Tig beams, pulling her into a hug.

“Yeah, I missed you guys too.”

She makes her rounds, eventually leaving Chibs for last. He greets her as normal, with a warm ‘hey Devy’ and a kiss on the cheek. She turns back around and chats with Juice a little.

He was like an excited puppy and genuinely interested in the stuff in the shop. He would ask about all of it, how things like tarot and crystals worked. It was kind of adorable. He was like a little kid.

Bobby rests a hand on her shoulder, “Jax should be back any minute. He was waiting for you before the errand.”

“Yeah, I was finishing stuff up at the shop.” She replies. She did take her sweet time getting here. Tig passes her a drink, she takes it, and sits on one of the stools.

It was a mix of memories at the Clubhouse; good ones, and bad ones. Overall, the place did feel like a piece of home, and it was nice, at this moment, to be back.

But that feeling is short-lived when the door swings open, it’s Jax followed by Vince, both carrying big boxes.

Jax winks at her and places the box down. Devyn quickly catches the look of surprise on Vince's face before he sets his eye on something else, anything else but her.

How quickly he looked away leaves a hollow feeling in her chest. Though her back is turned to him now, she just knows Chibs is watching too.

Vince heads off to the right, busying himself with the boxes. Jax cups her face and kisses her lips.

“Thank you for coming," He says sweetly, “can we talk?”

She knocks the rest of the drink back and stands, “ sure.”

Wearing a smile, Jax wraps his arm around her shoulders and leads her toward the back. They enter the apartment and Jax sits on the bed. She perches on the edge of the desk.

“I am not sitting on that. Who knows what has been happening on those sheets."

It was true, Devyn never sat on that thing unless the sheets were changed. In her mind, all these guys and one bedroom; it was safer to stand.

Jax chuckles, “I changed them this morning. Besides, “ he studies her face, “it's just been me in here.”

She nods, her eyes traveling around the room. She almost forgot, on his own, Jax lived like a high school kid or college freshman. The room was a mess.

“I know you’re pissed at me Devyn. I’ve given you plenty of reason to be. I want to come home, our house, our bed.”

A strange feeling moved through her body in response to his words. Was she happy about this? Sad? Devyn fidgeted with the hem of her shirt as his eyes burned into hers, waiting for a response.

“I never kicked you out, Jax. You left on your own. That was your call.”

“I know,” he stands and walks over to her. Bringing his warm hands back to her face, he stares deeply into her eyes, “the club shit, the stress, life after Opie...it's been killing me. I was taking that shit out on you, pushing you away. I’m sorry.”

Devyn nibbled her bottom lip. On one hand, she was processing his words; on the other, she was wondering about Vince and what exactly Chibs said to him. He wouldn't even look at her, not really, and that hurt.

“Devyn,” Jax caresses her face, “let me make it up to you. Let’s go home.”

Jax holds her close to his chest and wraps his arms around her. Not knowing what else to do, or how to respond, Devyn lets herself rest against him. She can feel tears in the corner of her eyes, but they never fall.

And when Jax leads the way out of the clubhouse, and to his bike, she lets him. On the way out, she can see Vince at the pool table with Juice and makes sure to exchange a glance with Chibs before leaving.

She had questions, and he knew exactly what she would ask him about.

Next

@drabbles-mc​ @andacrylikebreakingglass​

[russeliarat]

Part 3 of the Hylia’s Heroines idea because I just had to finish the scenario as a trilogy lol. Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Ring the bells and whistles, it’s finally happened!

With the camp now set away for the combined Chain and Court’s next outing, the clearing had become completely emptied, save for the ashes and charred branches left from the previous night’s fire and the several logs scattered about. It was currently midday, as it seemed that even after months of travelling, some still couldn’t wake at an early time.

Sun led Sky into the middle of the clearing, her hand interlocked with his, insisting that he keeps his eyes closed so he couldn’t see the item she held back her back. She looked up. The Sun was still shining bright in the East, and the clouds littered in a way that sent a gentle glow across the small field. It felt warm and comforting.

Sun turned to look directly at Sky, halting her movements and tapping his hand with her thumb to signal opening his eyes. It felt silly to say but she could stare at the way his eyelashes fluttered all day if she could help it. But unfortunately, she couldn’t - she had an important task after all. Even if it did take several seconds of her staring before Sky softly chuckled to urge her to speak.

“I... Um...” she sighed, fiddling with the fibres of the object in her fist. Sky rubbed his thumb against the back of Sun’s knuckles. She started again.

“Ever since we were kids, I’ve always felt like you’ve been the closest person I’ve ever really connected with. I never had any real friends growing up because I lived in the Knights Academy, but when you moved in because of your parents’ passing - and it seems cruel to say, but - I felt glad we got to meet. Well, I suppose we would have met eventually, but I’m just so happy I got to spend those extra few years with you, Link.”

Sky’s gentle smile seemed to lengthen into a grin as his free hand fiddled with the edges of his sailcloth. “I remember how I slipped down the stairs and fell right into you. I was so embarrassed, I refused to speak to you for a whole week.”

Sun giggled at the memory, “I had to tell you it was okay before you even tried to introduce yourself. It was almost like something out of a storybook.”

“Our lives always felt like a storybook, didn’t it?” Sky hummed. “I suppose we’re going to leave more of an impression than we thought, eh?”

Sun rested her head on Sky’s shoulder, sighing silently. “I hate to admit that you’re right about something so cliché, but you are.”

“Link... I... Uh...” Sun looked to her side as if eyeing the hand held behind her back. “Uhm... You know what,” she raised her head from Sky’s shoulder, “It’s fine.”

Sun attempted to release herself from Sky’s grasp, but he somehow managed to keep a gentle grasp through such a firm hold. His free hand rose to Sun’s hip. “No, no, what’s wrong? Clearly it’s important if you want to give me a speech about our past in an empty field. I won’t judge you, dear.”

“I know you won’t. It’s just that...” Her brows knitted together. She gripped the soft item in her hand just a little tighter.

“That?”

“Gods above, Link. Catch on, will you?” she pleaded. Finally, she gained the courage to free her hand from his grasp, and form a cup from his hands, shoving the object inside and closing his hands with her own. “I’ve been waiting to give you this for what feels like a millennia!”

Gently, she let go of his clasped hands, allowing them to slowly release the object from its cage. What lay in his palms was a small, periwinkle blue feather, only about the size of Sky’s thumb.

His eyes widened in disbelief, “What?” he whispered airily. He turned his eyes to Sun’s. “Did you just...?”

Sun giggled, “Still half-asleep, dove?” She nudged some of Sky’s fringe from his emerald eyes, an old habit of hers to suade away her anxieties. “I did.” She was matching his volume now - a gentle, sweet hush.

“No way,” he gasped, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “No way... Zelda, you- But I- I-”

“You what?” she bounced on her toes.

“I don’t think I could ever be happier to accept.”

[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4106 Warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: My first Chris Beck fic! Rather than a really long one shot I’m splitting it into two parts. A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

“Hey.”

The soft resonance of Chris’ voice brings tears to your eyes, ones you couldn’t help from slipping out. They fall down the curve of your cheeks past the uneasy smile you wore.

“I kept my promise,” he said. Chris flashed the top row of his bright white teeth, his mouth curving into a boyish smile that reached his eyes, the fine lines crinkling around them. He tilted his head as he looked at you through the screen, a comforting gaze that made you feel as if he was there with you. 

The quality of the video chat is near perfect making you almost forget Chris was millions of miles away. He looked the same, not that you expected him to look different. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other. 

His hair looks darker than usual but you suppose it’s the low lighting of the small room he’s in. He’s bundled up in a thick NASA sweatshirt and you can see several more layers he has on beneath the collar. Chris looks tired but that’s expected, what he’s doing right now is not a walk in the park. You know it’s the reason why it’s taken so long for him to contact you but you wish he did it sooner. 

More tears flood your eyes, burning their way out as you wished he never left at all. You can barely hear Chris over the sound of your own sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.

You lifted your head towards the screen and seeing the concern on his face only made you miss him more, wishing he was there to console you in person.

Your hand swept away tears from your cheek as your voice cracked saying his name. “Chris…” 

The streets are simmering with the heat of a summer that couldn’t wait to officially start. Calendars be damned, it was hot. You indulged in a cool shower when you got home from work but time didn’t allow for a languid evening of staying in your towel as you applied serums and moisturizers, lotions and creams and every other post-shower pampering you normally do. Tonight was dinner with a friend and you needed to get ready.

Chatter filled the air of the patio, a small secluded outdoor space at the back of an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It had an Old World Tuscan feel, from the stucco walls that looked purposely imperfect. Green patina shutters hung beside a wrought iron lantern that glowed in the early evening. Lush greens and bright flowers sat atop the half wall that surrounded the dining area making you forget you were in the city.

Chris looked the same, not that you expected him to be different. It had only been about two years since you’ve seen each other, right before he began training for his mission and now you can’t believe it was about to happen. Never would you have expected that the little boy down the block who became your best friend would actually be going to Mars.

For most of your lives you were in the same school, starting in Mrs. Kramer’s kindergarten class where you stuck together; two kids that were nervous about making friends and finding comfort in each other. As the years went on you weren’t always in the same classes but your friendship continued to grow. Chris was picked on for having a girl as a best friend and the girls always teased that he was your “boyfriend.” It never felt that way with Chris. He was your friend first and you never saw him as anything more. 

By the time you were in middle school Chris was already taking advanced classes in math and science and the only class you had together was art which he was famously terrible at. It was there you asked him a huge favor, whispering to him at the sink as you rinsed off your paint brushes. “Could you kiss me?” Chris turned as red as a boiling lobster, immediately sweating as if he was being roasted alive himself. It was later that day walking home from school that you clarified what you meant.

There was a boy, Justin Kaufman, who was the coolest kid in your grade. You had a crush on him like everyone else and you were shocked when he asked if you would go with him to the dance on Friday. You were worried he might try to kiss you and being inexperienced made you nervous. Justin was really popular and if you were a bad kisser then the whole school would know it. Chris was your friend, someone you trusted, someone you could practice with just to make sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself. 

You had no frame of reference for kissing back then apart from one sided smooches to pictures of movie stars that you had a crush on. But feeling Chris’ lips press back against yours was… nice. The best part about it was that things didn’t feel awkward after. Chris was still your best friend and nothing changed. 

A server hands you a menu and you thank him, scanning through it to see what you might be interested in. Chris looks up at the same time you do, wondering if you wanted an appetizer.  You nodded letting him choose, considering the limited food options he’ll have for over the next year. 

“Can you drink?”

Chris’ nose crinkled as he smiled. “In space? No. Tonight? Yes,” he chuckled softly. 

Two glasses of red wine were set on the table as you indulged in delicious food, catching up as much as you could before Chris’ mission. 

“So you’d love what happened today,” you began, leaning closer, “We filmed a restoration video and yours truly was in it.”

Chris’ eyes lit up as he gasped. “I love those! You have to send it to me. Hopefully I can see it before I go. What was it?”

“A sixteenth century European oil painting.” You went into detail and Chris loved listening to your knowledge of art history. It was no wonder that was your major, taking your studies further to work as a conservator at the Met.

Chris swallowed his food quickly to speak. “You were always good at that– art, attention to detail. Remember when we had to sculpt our own faces?” he chuckled.

There was a short burst of laughter as you remembered that day from so long ago. “Yes! Thankfully the real you doesn’t look anything like that abomination you made.” 

Chris drops his head down to hide a bashful smile that mixed in with laughter. He’s enjoying himself, catching up with you, eating. This was so good. He couldn’t help but scoop up another forkful of pasta, not expecting you to ask him a question. “So, how are you feeling?”

He paused to reflect and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous… excited.” Taking a sip of wine, he sets the glass down carefully on the table. Chris’ face has grown more serious. “My mom’s worried.”

“Of course she is, I don’t blame her. I’m worried. Mars is… well it’s Mars! It’s not around the block.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s definitely not.” 

Chris is heading home to Connecticut tomorrow to spend the next few days with his parents. Chloe, his younger sister is coming in as well so they can all spend some time together before he has to fly down to Florida.

“Then it’s go for launch!” he said with a beaming smile, though Chris had to correct himself for the sake of accuracy. Once he’s down there the crew has to quarantine for at least ten days and go through a bunch of pre-flight checkups and procedures first. “Are you gonna watch?”

The incredulous look you gave him answered his question. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’m going to watch the launch.” 

His eyes twinkled as he smiled back at you. “Oh and don’t worry I put you on my contact list so you can send me emails. Not sure how quickly I'll get them since CAPCOM directs it back to us. And as long as we have the right satellite coverage we can even do video calls.”

“Like Facetime?”

“In theory yeah, more like space Skype,” he laughed. “It’ll be nice to stay in touch.”

Your smile was bright in the dimness of the evening. You can’t imagine not staying in touch with Chris. The longest you had ever gone was during his Air Force training. He checked in with his parents when he first arrived and from then on it was sporadic. You were able to send him letters though and tried to write him every week though your own schooling and an apprenticeship at the Louvre had taken up a lot of time but that was how your relationship was. 

No matter where you were in life, across the world or hovering above it in the International Space Station, you always kept in touch. It’ll be harder now considering he’s going farther than ever before but you’ll make it work. 

Chris would be back by next November and his mom was already planning a big party for his return, one he’s certain you’ll be invited to. Though you haven’t seen his parents in a while you still kept in touch with them from time to time seeing as they were still friends with your own parents.

“It’s crazy to think you’re about to go to Mars.” 

Chris swipes a palm down his mouth, leaning his elbows against the table as he muses, “I know. Feels like I got the call yesterday.”

It was a night similar to this one, where Chris was in New York celebrating with you and other friends on his selection to be part of the Ares III mission. He had been working at NASA for a few years, doing biomedical research in their center in Virginia and now he was about a month out from spending two years training for his long term mission to Mars. 

He stayed at your apartment that night, continuing the celebration in your own private way. You had come a long way from learning to kiss with Chris. It wasn’t a big deal, neither was it the first time you had sex with each other. It was a special dynamic that worked for the two of you, one you don’t think you could have pulled off with anyone else. With Chris you had trust that was built up over the years. He was safe, he was your friend and this was nothing more than just sex. 

It didn’t happen too often, a couple of times here and there. You both dated a few people over the years and even though you were single at the moment you thought about the promise you made to each other as teens. “If we’re not married to other people by the time we’re thirty let’s promise we’ll marry each other.” Such a silly promise but thirty seemed so far away at the time. 

Chris couldn’t make it to celebrate for your thirtieth birthday but you did get a card from him where he joked that the wedding was off. You were in a long term relationship, one that Chris thought would lead to marriage but you ended things a year later. It wasn’t there; that natural spark that made your heart skip a beat every time they smiled brighter than the sun, or when their eyes sparkled like stars in the night every time they looked at you. 

You walked through the streets with Chris after dinner, casually strolling back towards your apartment and stretching out the inevitable goodbye that you didn’t want to say. It was so good to be with him in person again, not realizing how badly you missed it until the hours started ticking closer towards him leaving. By the time you get to your apartment Chris decided to come up stairs, wanting to spend as much of his time with you as he could. 

Chris sits comfortably on your couch, cozied up beside a large pillow. He places his wine glass down on your coffee table, needing to gesticulate with both hands as he starts getting into talking about his research. He’s been published before in numerous academic journals and now he’s going on about how excited he is for his latest topic, musculoskeletal alterations and the effects of deep space travel. 

He’s cute when he really gets into it, crinkles pulling around the corner of his eyes as his whole face lights up. You let out a shaky breath, smiling even wider yourself as you watched the passion he had for science and learning, one that matched the level you had for art and preserving their history. 

Chris apologized for rambling on, taking a sip of wine to clear the dryness from his throat. 

“So, give me the lowdown… can you jerk off in space?” 

He covered his mouth to prevent the wine he was choking on from spitting out. You couldn’t help the sly smile on your face that cracked wider the redder he became. 

“Well?”

Chris cleared his throat again. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looked down into his glass, chuckling a bit as he said, “The official stance from NASA is no comment so I’m going to stick with that.” 

“That’s not an answer!” You could barely hold a faux sneer before you broke into a smile. Teasing Chris was all in good fun, something that went both ways from the time you were young. 

You adjusted the way your legs were folded underneath you, brushing your knee against his leg. Chris lifted his arm up, a silent invitation for you to get closer and so you did, resting your head against him as his arm came around you.

Things had quieted down and you listened to the steady beat of his heart. This would be the last time you would see Chris for a long time. Your arm reached around to hold him for as long as you could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered against him. 

Chris’ chest sunk as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.” His arm squeezed a little tighter around you as he pressed his lips gently against your forehead. “Just look to the stars and I’ll be there.” 

His words brought a comforting smile to your face, one you shared with him as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you want to stay?”

The corner of his mouth tugs a little as Chris thinks about it. There’s nothing he really misses at his hotel more than he does you. The only reason he came to New York was to see you first before going home. 

“Yeah, I’d love to stay.”

You shifted yourself on top to straddle Chris, carding your fingers through his hair and taking in the gaze of his eyes that became pools of deep blue. You closed the distance between your lips, feeling his hands come around your back. Soft moans bubbled in your throat and soon you found yourself being carried to the bedroom. 

Clothes were discarded, lips were on skin that burned hotter than the stars. You writhe against him, thighs quivering around his head, reaching out to grip him by the hair, holding Chris in place as he coaxed out your release. His lips taste like you and he licks them again, savoring your sweetness as he crawls up your body. 

He tears open the condom, gathering your wetness on him as he slowly pushed in. A sinful moan falls from your lips as you feel the stretch of him inside you, inch by inch until he was fully seated. An experimental roll of his hips sets the pace for pleasure. 

Your hands graze up the curve of his arms, reaching his back and digging in half moon shapes into his skin with your nails as he thrusts into you.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, moaning as his hips snapped forward. His name fell from your lips, a sweet sound that he couldn’t deny he loved hearing. 

He changed his angle, hitting you with deeper, longer strokes. His mouth found your nipple, sucking at your peak as his hips gained speed; groaning and squeezing his eyes tightly as he fucked you, ready to explode.

“Shit!” Chris hissed, backing off quickly. You’re confused and concerned, sitting up and turning the light on beside your bed to see what was wrong. “The condom broke,” he said, still catching his breath.

Chris got up to discard it in the bathroom as you sat on the bed, crossing an arm over your chest, waiting nervously. When Chris walked back in the room he apologized for that, the stiffness of his length giving you relief that he hadn’t finished so you continued. Using your hands on him as he let out soft moans, distractedly opening another condom that you rolled down on him. You straddled him, leaning forward to capture his lips for a sweet kiss first before you lined yourself up and sank down on him. 

Soon enough you were riding waves of bliss together, gripping Chris as you clenched around him, burning white hot behind your eyes. He’s right behind you, on the edge of pleasure, exploding inside you like a supernova.

Dropping your head onto his chest, it felt like your body was made of overcooked noodles that splayed loosely against him as you were desperate to catch your breath, coming down from the heights you soared to. Chris’ arms hold you close against him, his lips languidly peppering kisses to your sheen covered skin. 

When his heartbeat returned to a steady pace Chris went to the bathroom to once again discard the condom and you followed behind him to use it. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, bringing back an ice cold glass of water for you. 

Back in bed you cuddled together, with goosebumps breaking out on your skin as Chris’ fingertips graze gently up and down your arm. Your eyes feel heavy but you don’t want to give in because when you wake up you know you’ll have to say goodbye and that’s not something you want to do. 

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” you murmured against him, as worry took root within your stomach. His quick and emphatic reply should have been enough but you couldn’t help yourself from needing to make sure you would still hear from him during the mission. “And call me? With the space Skype?”

“I promise,” he said, as a smile spread across his face. Chris’ hand stopped moving, settling on your arm and holding you close. 

“Promise me one more thing?” He hummed in response and you continued, “Stay safe up there.”

Chris tilted his head down and feeling him shift you looked up as he said, “I promise.”

In the moonlight his eyes sparkled like clear tropical waters. Slowly, a soft smile spread across your face as you stared at him. “I love you, Chris.” There was no romanticism behind it even after being together, just pure love for your friend. 

Chris exhaled, planting a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

Despite wanting to spend your remaining hours together awake you reluctantly fell asleep in his arms, tearfully parting in the morning. Two weeks later you watched as the space shuttle launched, with proud tears filling your eyes as Chris’ picture flashed on your screen along with the rest of the crew. Seeing that made you feel hopeful and overjoyed at the prospect of hearing from him soon.

“Chris… I’m pregnant.” It was a relief to finally tell him but you didn’t feel any better, uncertainty weighed heavy on your shoulders, crushing the space for your lungs to expand. Chris knows but now what?

He’s silent, his lips parted slightly and you don’t know if there’s a delay in the feed. Maybe you should have emailed it to him. You were going to at first and instead chose to word the importance of needing to speak to him in such a clandestine way that you were contacted by someone from NASA. Upon speaking to them they allowed your email to be dispatched and then you waited. 

Chris’ eyebrows knit together, his shoulders slumping down as he stared at your face through the screen. He didn’t have any doubts, you were always truthful with each other, but he still wondered how.

“We put on a new one, I thought…” 

“I thought we were good too,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. 

You weren’t just pregnant, you were pregnant with his child and based off of some quick calculations in his head you were nearing the end of your first trimester. “H-how are you? I mean, how are you feeling?”

“Physically or…” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your throat. 

This was hard on you, the physical symptoms weren’t fun but you could manage. What was more difficult was not telling anyone. It was early enough in your pregnancy that you could hide it from your family. They still lived in Hartford and hadn’t been down to visit yet but you couldn’t avoid them forever. Work was a different story. You had to let your boss know you would have to modify your duties as working around solvents and other chemicals would not be safe.

There was never a doubt in your mind about keeping the baby. When you were younger you imagined having children by now but it didn’t work out that way. It was something you were okay with, finding life fulfilling in different ways. Work was incredible, you were able to travel and though your relationships hadn’t worked out in the past you didn’t hold on to any resentments. Life was always complete and now things were going to be different. 

You wanted to speak to Chris first before telling your family because you needed to know your expectations. Chris had a life of his own and you didn’t want your choice of having a baby to make him feel obligated in any way. You were an adult; a smart, independent woman and could do this on your own.

“I know this isn’t something we planned but…” Chris exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting upward, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with than you... I promise.” 

Chris’ eyes glisten with tears as his smile grows and you find yourself brushing away your own from the corner of your eyes. It was comforting to know Chris will be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully it would have been weird if he wasn’t in some capacity considering how close you were. For now you have a lot of time on how you’re going to figure things out for the future.

After the call Chris reflected in silence, staring out of the giant triangular windows of one of the Hermes’ common areas into the vastness of space. He was lost in thought, startled by his name being called by a crewmate. He turned to see Mark whose bright smile fell with concern upon seeing Chris’ face, asking if he was alright.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Chris responded, his tone mournful in the realization he’ll be missing the birth. He accepted the congratulatory hug Mark gave him, sighing heavily as they separated. “I always thought I’d be there for that.” 

You were due in March and Chris hated the fact that he won't be there for the first nine months of his child’s life, moments and milestones he’ll never get back. He doesn’t like leaving this all on you. He knows you can do it but you shouldn’t have to. 

“I can’t pretend this isn’t hard but don’t think of it in terms of what you’re missing, look at what you’re gaining, what you have to look forward to when you come home.” Chris nodded, his smile trying to come back. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend,” Mark teased. 

“I don’t. Y/N, she’s…” Chris’ face lights up as he thinks about you, which does not go unnoticed by Mark. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s always meant so much to me and now…” 

Mark gave Chris an honest smile as he spoke plainly, “And now you’re having a baby.” 

With a proud smile that stretched from ear to ear he affirmed, “Yeah… we are.” 

PART 2