#i also brought home a new gecko

[thatswhatsushesaid]

finally (FINALLY) home after spending the weekend with very lovely people whose baseline for acceptable household activity levels is orders of magnitude more chaotic than i can handle. and also everything we brought with us now smells intensely of cigarette smoke.

however:

another new friend i made over the weekend!! look at this good girl!!!!!

[pythonmelon]

Can you tell us more about your pets?

Hello anon, absolutely!

We've currently got six pets- five reptiles and a dog.

There's Pretzel, our rescue Akita we brought home from the shelter last year. She's a big very sweet gal, lots of energy. We do a lot of walking and jogging together, she's a bit of a soft toy destroyer but we have some great Tough Toys.

Ludo is my oldest reptile, he's a six year old Indonesian blue tongue skink. The seller at the exotics expo I got him from was selling mostly geckos, but his original owner was the seller's-friend's-kid who got bored when he hit adulthood. He loves to climb and is a very chill dude, loves to eat, big cuddler. He's had some skin issues he's still healing from but he's active and healthy and doing great!

Pudding is a Paraguayan Rainbow boa- she's an absolutely incredible animal. Dopey little face. Absolute MUSCLE at a still manageable size (under five feet). She's so fast- did you know rainbow boas are more closely related to anacondas than other boas? But they're still just little dudes.

Creamsicle is technically @allislaughter 's, he's an albino tangerine leopard gecko! He's a grumpy little dude, but he's delightful. Super fun to watch him hunt, he is a little bit blind (more accurately, light sensitive) but it does not slow him down.

Brown Sugar Boba is also @allislaughter 's- he's a crested gecko and an absolutely lovely one. He's soft and silly and he eats right out of our hands (holding his cup of gecko diet). Angel baby. Totally brainless.

Our newest pet is Banana Split, the Peter's Banded Skink. She's still settling in, we don't know how old she is, but PBS's have been on my dream reptile list for some time- they're incredibly cute, I love the bright yellow striped and solid black eyes look- and she turned up at the pet store where we got Creamsicle and we always get our feeders back in December. I was on the fence- space concerns, buying a new enclosure, etc- but by the time my birthday rolled around last month she was still there, was in good health, I had found space and an enclosure, it was kind of meant to be. As a nocturnal desert dweller she's a bit of a recluse, but she's still a treat to have around.

That's everyone for now! Thanks so much for the ask anon, it was fun to just ramble about our pets.

[viltrumitesuperboy]

Babysitting Job (Peter Parker x Natasha’s Brother Reader)

Sorry for any errors within the plot. I wrote this over the course of two weeks. Reader’s powers not mentioned much.

Requested by: anon Could I possibly request a Peter Parker x Male Reader, where the reader is Black Widow's younger brother and has trained in martial arts and gymnastics and the like, but also has the ability of animal shape-shifting? Maybe all the avengers meet him for the first time when Black Widow finally gets him to live with her and Peter gains a pretty big crush on him?

Word count: 3352

You trained under your older adoptive sister for years. Natasha found out that you had been born with the ability to shift into animals. She brought you to her workplace where you would be treated as a person and not as a weapon like she had. You never stayed with her after you'd trained for a few years, leaving America to take other jobs. Every once in a while she'd check up on you, asking if you needed anything or if you could help her find some information. Even miles away, she still acted like your older sister and was just as protective.

Eventually you decided to finish your education in America, staying with Natasha at the Avengers Tower. She had an entire floor to herself, but rarely used most of it. She was a minimalist to an extent. She made sure you were settled before going to her briefing late, assuring you that she wouldn't get in trouble. If anything, you were sure that she'd scold them for starting without her.

You spent the first few nights extremely uncomfortable in the new place. You had never needed to stay somewhere for a long time, and even if it had only been a few days, you knew you'd be there for a while.

After a week, you were roaming about the R&D floors and bumped into someone.

"Oh, you," Tony Stark said.

"Who do you think I am?" you asked warily.

"Natasha's kid brother, right? With the powers? Listen, I have something for you."

"Uh..."

"Here. Have you seen this?"

He pulled out his StarkPad. You watched the video he pulled up, not wanting to interrupt someone who seemed like he was always in a rush. It was a boy with a lean figure, dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants along with a mask covering his entire head. You silently applauded him for being a beginner vigilante who wore something practical considering he probably couldn't afford body armour.

"This is Spider-kid. Well, Spider-Man. But he's young, and I want to keep an eye on him. You mind helping me out? Of course, I wouldn't tell you his identity without his consent, but he agreed that he'd be fine with me giving him protection after..." he trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand as if you knew what he was talking about. "Anyway, you feel up to going to high school? You're young. You'll probably fit right in."

"Mr. Stark, I have no social skills. I assure you, putting me in a high school considering my powers and training is likely a danger to my mental stability and their physical well-being. I'm not going to babysit someone for you."

Tony's features seemed to soften a bit. He looked less like he was in a rush as much as he normally did. It was something he reserved for the people he cared most about.

"Look, I get it. People are hard to talk to. And I'm not saying this as Tony Stark, owner of a large company. I'm saying this as the reason I'm Iron Man. You've seen all that through files from Nat, right?" He awaited your confirmation, and you nodded. "Good. All you need to do is just be with Peter. And I'm sure you qualify to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. This can just be a mission and they'd be glad to know that my- uh, the kid is being managed by someone they can trust because at least they know Nat. It doesn't have to be anything else, not even a favour for me. Just a job."

You thought about it for a moment, then asked to see more of the videos. Stark held out the device for both of you to see and swiping through a few. You both stood there in the sunlit hallway for a while. He was barely trained and relied a lot on his powers. Maybe you could help him.

"I'll speak to Natasha today. I think I'll help you out, but talk to him first," you said finally.

"Great. By the way, I think he'd be a lot more comfortable if he knew that you were working with me," Stark said, just about to walk away. "He knows that someone will be sent to watch him, but he doesn't know who and he doesn't trust easily. He'd appreciate if you told him who you were right off the bat. Be careful."

"For him or for me?"

"Personally? For him. I think you can handle yourself."

He walked away, the device tucked under his arm as he made his way to one of the labs. It was obvious Stark cared for the boy, and you respected Stark for his efforts to make the world safer after what he'd gone through. If this was a job, this was one you'd take very seriously.

———

Your powers meant you could shift into animals, but you could also just take the attributes of any animal you knew to exist. It was much easier than turning into a large wildcat in the middle of a city street. You'd taken the climbing abilities of a gecko, leaping from another building to climb up the tower. There was a bandana covering the lower half of your face, just so you couldn't be recognised by cameras. You had just started to open the window when a reflection on the window blocked the lights inside.

"Hey, uh, what are you up to?" Spider-Man asked.

You turned to look at him, adjusting your bandana.

"Nothing, just going home," you replied, opening the window.

"Oh! Do you live here?" he piped up.

"No, but it'll be my home once I break in."

"Uh..."

"I'm just kidding. You can come in if you want. I know Stark has a soft spot for you."

"Mr. Stark? Really? I mean, I try to text Happy all the time cause I really want to tell Mr. Stark stuff sometimes but I didn't really think he actually-"

"Hey! Get inside!" your sister shouted from the kitchen.

You quickly slipped in, Spider-Man following and shutting the window behind you.

"What have I told you about coming in from there?" Natasha glared sternly.

"That there's an elevator and I should use it like a respectable person."

"Exactly. Go change and then help me out with lunch. Hi, Spider-Man. You know where to go."

"Yeah, sorry, Ms. Romanov. I didn't know you had a friend coming over."

"He's my brother. Now hurry up. Pepper will have your head if you're late."

The conversation trailed off, likely followed with goodbyes, as you went to your room. Lunch led to a very serious conversation about joining the secret government agency along with your first job: keeping Spider-Man in check.

———

The flash drive you received had the worst possible photo of Peter Parker you could imagine. It was as if they couldn't get an actual photo of him. Considering the fact that he was an official intern here, you figured that they might be able to get something that didn't look like an unfortunate accident from Picture Day. Because in person, he looked... not as stupid.

Going back to a public school was strange. You hadn't gone since you were a child, the rest of your education mixed in with the martial arts training you had to take. There were so many people, but at least they were ignoring you for the most part. The main problem was finding out where the hell B104 was.

"Um, are you lost?"

A girl with curly hair and a sketchbook to her side had a locker open next to you. You glanced at her putting books away and taking things out before responding.

"Yeah, I don't know where this is?"

She looked at your schedule, nodding as she shut her locker.

"Yeah. That's the basement. There's one science class down there," she explained. "I'll go with you; I have something there, too."

You thanked her as you both walked through the crowded hallways. She occasionally nudged people aside, giving absolutely no shits to the people standing in the way. Natasha would like her. When you accidentally mentioned it in a quiet mumble, she laughed. She claimed that if she ever met Black Widow, "it'll be over for all you bitches." You didn't doubt it. You both went down a floor and she led you to the room.

"I have to go a bit further down, but..." she quickly pulled out a pen and wrote down your room numbers on her wrist. "I have some classes close to these, so I can bring you there for the first half of the day before lunch. I'll see you after class?"

"Uh, sure?"

"My name's Michelle."

"I'm (Y/N)."

She stuck her hand out in a way that you became extremely uncomfortable with, not used to shaking hands. She seemed to notice your hesitation then held it up for a high five. You gave a small smile of gratitude and gave her one.

"I'm sorry, that's so awkward. Um, if you stick with me, I'll teach you the secrets of this school. Okay, there aren't really any, but you really look like more of a loner than I do."

You nodded awkwardly in response and turned to walk into your class without another word.

Michelle had about three of her classes with you, and you shared 4 with Peter Parker, two of which were before lunch. She walked you to the table she usually sat at, a relaxed gait to talk to you comfortably.

"Everyone kind of adopts their own spot in the cafeteria at some point. Those tables are usually empty, and that's where I sit. I have a feeling you're going to be spending your time there too."

You spotted Peter, who waved at you. Confused, you waved back, then Michelle voiced an excited greeting. You put your hand down after pretending to scratch your head.

"This is Peter and Ned. They're in some of your classes."

"Oh, you're the kid who broke one of the beakers today, right? Man, that's so weird. How did you manage that?" Ned recalled.

You weren't about to tell him that you hadn't broken it at all. It was sitting on one of the heating plates and you were trying to put it away, but it fell as you'd tried to catch it with your sticky gecko hands. It didn't work.

"I have super strength," you deadpanned.

The three laughed, somehow. You hadn't interacted with such a close friend group like this ever. Peter was an awkward teen just like the others, and you wondered how difficult it must have been for him to adjust to his powers in the middle of his schooling. If anyone noticed you staring at him, they didn't mention it.

———

You did not tell Peter that he was just your job.

He was completely oblivious to your role in his life and laughably terrible at hiding his secret. You once caught him pick up an entire row of lockers with one hand in between classes. He picked up a bottle that looked like it held arsenic and placed the lockers back down. The sunlight streaming in from a nearby classroom's glass window made you realise that this boy had no regard for his surroundings. He was incredibly stupid. You really had to tell him soon.

He'd visited the tower a few more times, and you'd sometimes see him practice with your sister. She'd look up at you in the doorway of the training room and glare at you, as if telling you that she was doing your job. You walked away before he saw you every time. Instead, you followed him around when he was Spider-Man, choosing when you wanted him to know you were there and when you didn't. You'd learned that from Natasha. He'd tried to get your attention a few times, knowing you were there, but you slipped out of sight every time.

Michelle started to ask you to call her MJ. Ned showed you pictures of the Death Star he and Peter built together. It suffered destruction twice in the past, but it was perfect now and sitting on display in Ned's home. Peter offhandedly mentioned that Tony Stark wanted to display it at the tower. Ned was all for it, and you wanted to hit your head on a wall. Peter consistently confirmed his parent-child relationship with Stark without realising it. It was a bit infuriating for everyone else who could see it.

Peter had started to become more awkward around you. He'd been more comfortable over time, but one day he just started to get fidgety and stammered a lot. It only happened when he spoke to you. You were aware that you were probably one of the very few people that he felt any romantic attraction to, and he probably felt like you were his only option. Unsurprisingly, you felt the same way. It sucked having only a few friends.

At some point the secret had to come out. You were just standing in the kitchen, opening the fridge for the second time like it would suddenly become interesting, and jumped once you closed it.

"Oh my god, Peter," you huffed.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?"

Your eyes darted to Natasha for help. Peter followed your line of sight to her. She shrugged and hauled her duffel bag further up her shoulders.

"I have a mission. I'll only be gone less than a week. Get groceries."

The elevator arrived in seconds and she went up, likely to the helipad. You both stood there in silence for a moment.

"That's my sister," you admitted.

"Hold on, so you're telling me the person I met sticking to a window was you? The new, awkward kid at my high school?"

"You're awkward too."

Peter began too look a bit uncomfortable just standing in front of you in plain view, like he was suddenly aware of how open he was.

"You were the one following me around the city too. When I'm Spider-Man."

You nodded, gesturing to the living room so you could both take a seat. He was quiet as you went to your room, coming back out with the flash drive you had on him.

"Stark wanted someone to watch you, and he doesn't have many younger options. Then Nick Fury apparently wanted to keep an eye on you, so it all worked out. Natasha talked to him about having me join, and you were supposed to be my mission."

"Then why didn't you tell me? Are we... friends?"

"Yes!"

Peter looked away from you and looked out the window, the same one you both climbed into a while ago. He looked down at the flash drive, his teeth biting his bottom lip. You slowly sat down next to him, being sure to keep some distance away.

"I just didn't know how to tell you. Stark said that I would have been fine if you didn't know who exactly was watching you. I didn't expect to become your friend."

He put the flash drive in between the two of you, sliding it back over. You looked at it, your stomach doing turns knowing that you never would have hurt him if you said something earlier.

"My sister's been training you because I couldn't. I've learned a lot from her, but I've traveled more than she has. And I can adjust my powers to be more like yours. If you'd still want me around, I can teach you more."

Peter stood up, holding his hand out like he was going to shake your hand. You followed suit, holding your hand up for a high five. You both switched your hand positions, then settled for a fist bump that wasn't quite coordinated.

"I know we're both a bit awkward and we don't know how to talk to people normally, but I don't think I'd ever give you up. I'd like to be more than a mission to you."

"Like a friend?"

"Whatever you want."

———

It was easier to be with Peter in the tower. You realised how little you actually know about the building, and the next few days were spent with the both of you walking to the subway together and taking it to where you lived. He always brought you up to Stark's personal floor, to both his and Stark's labs, then to the R&D floors that you stopped exploring ever since your interaction with Tony Stark. He showed you what people were working on if they allowed you both in, and you'd watch him work on projects when he figured he'd procrastinated long enough. Sometimes MJ and Ned would tag along because apparently both you and Peter vouching for them was enough for security to let them through. Of course you had MJ meet your sister. It was a terrifying experience.

You spent weeks training Peter, watching him crawl up walls and do flips with more grace than you ever could and learning from him, but also taking him down much faster than he could ever take down anyone else. He was resilient but needed the training that both you and your sister provided. And even if your sister had been doing this longer than you had, you had abilities she didn't that could match and counter Spider-Man's.

Somehow Peter got even more awkward. He was clumsy, and was only lucky he didn't break things (or his own body parts) because of his powers. You didn't really want to tell him that you knew why. If you didn't have your own response to how he felt about you, he'd think that you were rejecting him. Though conflicted, MJ decided to make that decision for you.

"Ned, wanna come with me to see Ms. Romanov while she's training?" MJ asked, slinging her sweater over her shoulder.

"Uh, I don't really-"

"We have lovebirds to leave alone. Come on."

Ned looked a little torn, considering he had either the option of staying and not letting his two friends talk alone for once or leaving and being constantly terrified of a woman and a teenage girl for hours. You felt he made the worse choice, as he followed MJ. Fool.

"Did you just call Ned a fool?" Peter laughed.

You put your hand over your mouth, but laughed with him anyway. You were both sitting on the same sofa that led to Peter finding out that he was a part of your job. His hand reached yours, putting it on top of where they rested on your lap. He pulled it towards him and held it like romantic couples usually do, with fingers crossed together. It took some struggle because you both moved your hands the same way. Once again, you shared a laugh, though this one was more strained and uncomfortable.

"You like me, Peter," you said, not an ounce of doubt in your words. "I've known behaviour long enough to know. And I like you too, but I'm scared that it's because you're the first friend I've had that wasn't my sister."

"I was supposed to say it first," he pouted. "I had those two leave on purpose!"

You laughed and lightly squeezed his hand.

"I mean, what's life if we're not going to take risks?" he continued. "You decided to go to public school after years of not making friends, and I went on a school trip, got bitten by a spider, and decided not to tell anyone. If it doesn't work out, we can still be friends, right?"

"Nat would force me to stick around you as part of the job. Keeping you around as a friend is just a plus."

"Well, don't think that I'm letting you off the hook for telling me how you feel first. I'm holding you to this." Peter pointed a finger menacingly at you, which you pushed away.

"Sorry for stealing your thunder. And speaking of thunder, Thor's coming in a few hours. You wanna hide his food and blame it on Barton?"

"Hell yeah."

[sleepysailorghost]

Benny's Big Score

It turns out that New Reno was not a great place.

It seemed like a good idea at the time, a solution to his problems. But it wasn't.

New Reno was dirty, but not in the same glimmery-glittery way that New Vegas was. It wasn't like when he had come to Vegas for the first time, the Bootstraps with him. He was alone. There were no chairmen to protect him, no brothers willing to die with him.

Sitting in the dingy bar, he curses the courier under his breath.

"Oh, don't get me started on Couriers." a melodic voice chimed in. A smooth-voiced ghoul in a fancy pre-war tuxedo sat down on the barstool next to Benny. "You wouldn't know the half of it."

"A courier done you wrong too?"

"I gave as good as I got." the ghoul replied, and in him, Benny recognized that they were both well-dressed men who had been chased out by couriers.

"And yet we're still sitting here in this bar, ring-a-ding." Benny took a sip of his drink. Disgusting as it was (and expensive!), Benny's pride as a Bootstrap and leader of the Chairmen kept him from spitting it out. "Say, who are you anyhow?"

The ghoul rolled his eyes under the sunglasses he wore.

"200 years ago everyone knew my name. Dean Domino's the name, don't wear it out."

Benny's eyes widened.

"That for real? Where ya been hiding out all this time?" Benny questioned, leaning on the bar counter. "Could have used you back in New Vegas."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Dean answered smoothly. Benny prodded at him again in his "Ring-a-Ding-Ding" fashion, and Dean sighed before answering. "The Sierra Madre."

"Woah, let's keep it in the grove. You," He paused for emphasis. "Are the ghoulified version of prewar icon Dean Domino and you've been hiding out in the casino in the land of the dead?"

"Yes, I suppose if you put it like that."

"I'm the Ben-man, the kingpin of the whole Strip." Benny said, bitterly drinking from his glass. "Or I was."

"Taken down by a courier?" Dean snarked.

"Ain't that a kick in the head. You think you put one in the ground but then they follow you home and try and climb in your bed. Ruin your damn plans. But I'll be back."

"The courier-I never caught their name-banned me from Vegas. They threated to kill me if they ever saw me again. As if they'd get the chance."

"You and me, we're men cut from the same cloth." Benny said, and Dean looked over him.

"Are we really?"

"Yeah, we're both men screwed over by couriers when we could've been kings!" Benny rubbed his hand over his jaw, and then continued. "Y'know...we oughta get together sometime. We could get revenge on the Mojave Express and I have a lot of draw in New Vegas. I could even get you a job preforming in the Tops. Hell, even the Lucky 38."

"Why not?" Dean agreed. Thinking a moment, he asked. "That courier you knew, did they have a large scar on their head?"

"They did actually...a gift from me. Tie, I think that's their name. Well, it's what their boy-toy sniper-type called them when they weren't trying to jump into bed with me."

"Two birds with one stone." Dean said. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, pal."

It took time to get back to New Vegas. This gave them time to plan and plot and scheme about how to get their revenge on the courier.

More or less, it was easy for them to get into the Strip. After all, this was the land that Benny was Chairman of. He was also very skilled with computers, so it wasn't a challenge for Benny to hack into the securitrons.

Their first stop in Vegas was Mick and Ralph's. Throwing a cap to the crier boy outside the story, Benny asked "Are your old men inside?"

The boy responded and Benny strolled into the building like he owned it. Explaining to Dean, he added, "It helps to bring flowers home."

"Benny." Mick greeted shortly.

"Mick, my guy! How's the family?" Benny sidled up to the store owner. "Say, have you gotten any flowers in lately?"

Mick sighed and retreated to the back room. He returned with a wilted bouquet.

"I've only got these in because of Pacer. You know how he's gonna get, you're throwing of his plans with" Mick complained, but Benny cut him off.

"Tell him to send all his complaints to the Tops!" He exclaimed and snatched the bouquet. It was dry and wilty, formed from common Mojave plants rather than one made from Vault-Tec's greenrooms. It must have come in with Crimson Caravans, Benny thought, but Swank would like it well enough.

He shoved a couple caps into Mick's hand-underpaying people was something that got him into trouble before.

"To the Tops!" He called, and Dean followed him.

"Ugh. How things have changed." Dean groaned. "What have you done with the place?"

"Seal it, Dean-o! I've got a man to see. Our plan won't work without Swank."

The man in the check-in window looked up when Benny said his name.

"Shit, Benny. I haven't seen you in ages."

"Missed you too, Swank. You didn't even kiss me goodbye."

"You're not supposed to be here. I know you tried to kill that courier."

"C'mon, Swank. You've gotta let me explain." He gestured with the bouquet. "I brought you flowers."

Swank looked like he was conflicted, but then he sighed.

"Fine. Explain then, boss."

"Alright, so the courier. I did try and kill that courier, but I had good reason for it. You've got to believe me. I needed the platinum chip."

"You can't just keep saying I have to let you explain and I have to believe you. It doesn't work that way. But I'll bite. What's a platinum chip and why did you need it?"

"It's what we need. If we have it, we can upgrade the securitrons and then we won't need the NCR or the Legion or House to protect New Vegas." He smiled bitterly. "It would have been freedom for all of us."

Swank looked at Benny silently.

"I know why I failed now. I needed you and the Chairmen. I needed you."

That seemed to certify it for Swank. He inhaled deeply and then exhaled.

"Alright Benny. But this is the last time. You mess this up and it'll be the end-not just for you and me, but for all of us." He made cautious and firm eye contact with Benny. "What's the plan?"

"You're the man, Swank!" Benny shouted excitedly and leaned over the weapon-check counter to wrap a hand around Swank's shoulder and pull him down for a kiss. Releasing him, he continued. "Oh, it's a doozy of a plan."

Swank looked around and then signalled to another Chairman.

"You take over here." He said, and stepped out from behind the weapon check counter.

The plan was a doozy, Swank thought as he walked from the Tops to the Lucky 38. He hoped the Courier was staying there tonight. If not, he'd have to regroup with Benny and Dean to send them to the Atomic Wrangler instead.

Night had fallen quickly over New Vegas in the hours after Benny had made up with Swank, but his thoughts were quickly interrupted when Swank bumped into someone.

"Watch it," He barked. Looking at the young woman, he realized she was a courier-she had a courier's duster loosely over a purple shirt-but not the one they were going to kill.

"Eh? Did you need something?" She said, "I'm going to Show Low."

It was a dangerous route for a courier because it went right into Legion teritory, but Swank didn't care. It seemed like a good idea at the time, a solution to his problems. But it wasn't.

"Sorry. Good luck!" He said and continued on route to the Lucky 38.

"You too?" Swank heard, but there was a lot of noise. The Strip was loud.

Arriving at the Lucky 38, he let himself in. The collar weighed heavily in his pocket, but he knew that was just in his head. It couldn't weigh more than a pound or two.

"Hello?" he called. "I need to speak to the Courier? It's really important..."

There wasn't any response for a moment. Then the elevator chimed and two people exited.

One was the Courier, and the other was a bitter-faced sniper with an NCR beret.

"Oh...Mr. Tops?" The courier said. "Did you need something? We were just on our way out..."

"Yes, and it's very important. And it can't wait." Swank replied

The little computer on the Courier's arm beeped.

"Alright, what's going on?"

"Sit down, this is very important news." The courier sat down. The sniper stood to the side.

His hands were starting to sweat and he wiped them on his suitpants. Ugh, he could almost hear Benny scolding him for dirtying it.

"I've discovered..." He spoke softly...and the courier leaned into hear better. Just as they planned. "Sorry."

With that, he swiftly reached into his coat pocket and snapped the collar around the courier's neck. It latched closed and armed before they could even move.

They startled back, but it was of no use.

"Recognize it, courier?" a charismatic and smooth voice called as Dean Domino and Benny Gecko strolled into the lobby of the Lucky 38.

The Courier's face was fearful, but the sniper's eyes were full of rage. Their hands clawed at their throat, but it was futile against the explosive collar.

"I wouldn't do that, Pussycat." Benny's voice chimed in. "It's rigged to blow. But I'm sure you knew that. According to my new friend here, you've had some experience with them."

"Dean." They said quietly. " You were warned. I told you what I'd do if I ever saw you again. I'll kill you even if I have to take you down with me."

"Geez, Domino, what'd you do to make 'em hate you so bad?" Benny ran a hand through his hair. "I shot them in the head-twice, even-and left them for dead. And they still tried to sleep with me! Oh, and I wouldn't go making any moves there, friend, unless you'd like your little courier blown to bits. Or do, it would make it easier on me."

"I believe it was that I had their little friend's vocal cords ripped out. Or maybe it was the whole threatening to blow them up." Dean answered. "I never narrowed it down."

"Wow, Benny!" the Pip-Boy beeped. "I never thought I'd see you again! You keep some interesting friends!"

"Yes-Man?" Benny questioned, and then waved it aside. "Eh, never mind. When I've got the platinum chip, I can fix whatever they did to you."

"Yes-Man," Antietam said, dropping their hands from their neck "Could you keep it down? I'm about to get blown up."

"No, you're not." Boone reassured them quietly. "Gotta be some way to take these guys out..."

Internally, Antietam was weighing whether it was worth it to charge Dean and take him down with them. But there was a likelihood of Boone being injured in the blast, so it wasn't going to work out.

"Now, now Courier..." Dean said. "Where did you take the treasure when you ran off? You ruined over two hundred years worth of revenge."

The courier wanted to lash out, but they reigned their temper in.

"You ruined it...You ruined the whole Sierra Madre, did you know that? It could have been a safe haven, a shelter from the nuclear anihilation. But you couldn't tolerate what you percieved as an insult to your ego! And you ruined Vera's life-she was dying and you blackmailed her!" Their vitreolic rant paused. It wasn't the whole sad story, but the only one who knew that was Antietam. And they were too angry and biased against Dean to really care that their rant was biased. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Woah, let's calm down, Pussycat. You keep yourself under control or one of us might just forget ourselves and hit that button. We wouldn't want that, now would we? Let's get down to business." Christine and Veronica ran downstairs.

"Hey, what's going on? We heard commotion." Veronica said, and then when she saw the situation, she put her hands on her hips. "Are you guys having a party without me?"

Christine, on the other hand, growled.

"Dean." It came out in Vera's voice, and if Dean had skin, it would have gone pale with fear. As it was, it broke his composure.

"So it worked." He said finally.

"Alright, don't make any moves!" Benny shouted. "You try anything and I'll blow your friend to smithereens."

"Who are these guys?" Veronica asked.

"Some guys who tried to kill Tie before, I think." Boone answered

"Dean Domino, Swank Gecko-Pierce, and I'm the pro from Dover." Benny barked. "Now I want answers! Where's the platinum chip?"

None of them answered.

"I guess none of you value the Courier's life, seeing as none of you are providing answers." He pulled Maria from his pocket. "No matter. We'll start with the boy toy."

With that, he leveled Maria at Boone.

"Things are getting a little heated, Benny." Swank said, making eye contact with the checker-suited man.

"Stop." The Courier said. "I'll tell you where I hid the chip. Just let my friends go."

"Benny, this is getting more heated than I thought it would." Swank noted.

"Can it, Swank. We're about to get some answers!" Benny responded.

"It's in the dresser in the motel in Novac. Let my friends go, Benny."

"It's like it doesn't even matter to you!" Benny exclaimed. "It-" Swank cut him off by setting a hand on Benny's outstretched arm.

"Benny, calm down. We don't have time for his right now."

"Yeah, Benny, calm down." Dean chimed in, although it was clearly mocking him, which Benny picked up on immediately.

"You got something to add, Deano?" Benny snarked back.

"You know, Ben-man, I think I'm tired of playing accomplice. I'm so tired of playing second fiddle...I think I'll kill you and your friends and claim New Vegas for my own."

"Yeah, that's not happening." Benny fired back. He pointed Maria at Dean. "It's been real and it's been great, but it's not real great."

He fired.

"Shit, Benny, you missed." Swank said, to which Benny responded "Shut up, I know I missed."

He shot again and again and Dean didn't move, until he slumped to the ground, full of lead.

"Well, that's a bust." Benny said. "Hey, whataya say, Courier? We can burry the hatchet with this guy and work together. I won't kill you or your little friends and you won't kill me and Swank. Fair's fair, right?"

It was a stretch-even now, Christine and Veronica's nimble fingers were removing the explosive collar from the angry courier's throat. But Benny had always been a gambling man.

[weabooweedwitch]

Discovered something horrible. Absolutely devastating. Worst possible news i could ever receive.

I accidentally made Sabrina fat 😔 shes my first little spotted baby and im apparently messing up somewhere and i have a pudgy little leopard gecko 💀 I've brought shame onto my home and my husbandry skills 💀I was looking at her and holding her these last few days and I realized when I was looking at a recent photo of her that she's chunky

You can only see them when she turns but she has little rolls near her front legs and her legs also look kind of thick and when you compare this to an older photo of her when she first came home

oh my god I think she may actually be obese now 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ sweetie I am so sorry but mommy is an idiot and you have to go on a diet like, immediately 🥺

[ratsoh-writes]

(Lol. Let's just say I brought only the one to the shop in person)

*The tiny baby is a bit "flighty" and jumps onto Coffee's finger before crawling towards his palm*

Aww... I think the baby likes you. What do you think Coffee?

...I also have yet another new snake at home now. (California Kingsnake). *snickering to myself* You'd think the goal was to turn my house into my own personal zoo. (Lol)

But I thought you'd like to see the baby in person.

And I'm going to go get another pet tommorow. You're welcome to come with me if you'd like.

Coffee lets out a small eep when the gecko jumps into his palm. He keeps looking back and forth from it to you as if he was trying to say “are you seeing this???” It’s pretty cute how excited he looks. He must like animals

Coffee: ……that sounds great actually.. sure! What time?

[virtchandmoir]

HUBBELL AND DONOHUE COMPOSE A HALLELUJAH

January 11, 2021

Madison Hubbell and Zach Donohue have hit a sort of “Hallelujah” trifecta. Certainly they’re the first team to marry skating’s favorite versions of the Leonard Cohen composition—those of Jeff Buckley and k.d. lang—in a single program, and the first to present two separate programs to the song. And more than this, they tapped a choreographer who skated to it himself: Scott Moir, who in 2012-13 used Buckley’s version for an exhibition with partner Tessa Virtue.

The Buckley connection, though, was purely fortuitous. Last season, a year after his retirement from competition, Moir offered his first choreographic insights to former training mates Hubbell and Donohue, adding some input on a program they’d already forged with coach Marie-France Dubreuil.

The plan was always for more, given a special connection between Moir and Donohue, who first shared training space in the 2010-11 season, in Canton, Michigan, when Donohue was paired with Alissandra Aronow and Moir and Virtue had an unusual season including surgery for her and an overdue return to competition. The bond grew years later in Montreal, with Virtue and Moir training there from 2016 through 2018.

“They had something unique, where I think a lot of us train hard, we all have a very supportive quality within the school, but Zach and Scott were able to push each other a little bit, almost challenge each other to be pushing harder or motivating each other in a little bit different way,” said Hubbell. “So I think that kind of started the spark that was like, maybe this would work and maybe this would be a good addition. You know, I connect a lot with Marie in choreography and we have a lot of amazing people here, but I think that Zach was able to find a different part of himself working with Scott, and the coaches were able to see that that would be a good combination.”

Timing, however, was trickier. “It turns out that when you’re one of the most decorated skaters of all time, you got some stuff to do, so he was hard to nail down,” said Hubbell. “So I think that actually, this really strange year, where everything was on pause, was a big blessing for us because it gave Scott a lot of time that maybe he would have otherwise been using to tour or go to competitions with his own students.”

The team estimated that they’ve worked with Moir about five times now, including for four days in mid-December a week before our conversation. “It’s pretty amazing, but he always watches our competitions and gives us feedback,” said Donohue. “And he’s in close communication with Marie, so he comes in with a pretty solid plan every time. And we’re just able to breathe a little bit of life into transitions that we thought we understood and get a deeper understanding of them, another energy, a little bit more of a connection to each other within that music. And we both feel the music so well, sometimes it’s easy to get lost in it ourselves, so it’s nice to have him there to kind of give us those focus points on how we can really bring everyone into our story.”

Moir’s recent competitive experience is a boon, noted Donohue, and so too his ability in retirement to focus more on process than results. “From my standpoint of having trained with him and always only seeing the push and the drive and the intensity that is Scott Moir, it’s really interesting to see the way his mind works and the details,” he said. “The way he thinks about starting and finishing a movement, why that movement registers to him, why certain ones work and why others don’t, why they can seem disingenuous. To be able to pinpoint what it is, no, there’s no way, and even if I could, to be honest, I wouldn’t put it out there, because that’s his thing. It’s not for me to share.”

“I was surprised at his specificity,” said Hubbell. “Even now, when he was here, you know, we have the whole program set, but we might spend the entire two-hour lesson with him on one little 10-second transition, because he was very dialed into these moments that he wanted a certain way. There was no rush to get there at a certain point—he was going to spend as much time as needed to get the result that he wanted.”

But that attention to detail was also critical for the team. “That’s part of, I think, why we’re able to feel so comfortable in the piece as well,” she concluded. “Like, there aren’t any sticky moments, there aren’t things that are up in the air or like, oh, this isn’t comfortable, but just push through because it looks fine.”

Moir’s other priority has been keying in on the team’s assets. “Really committing to the fact that if we stay true to what we’re good at and what we like to perform, that that would be enough, and we don’t have to necessarily try to attain all the things from each team or be the best at everything,” said Hubbell. “We have to be the best at what we are.”

And what that is, they’ve determined, is something Moir knows a bit about: the basics. “We love stroking, we love footwork, we love edge quality more than any flashy tricks or more acrobatic moments,” she continued. “We like the human connection of looking each other in the eyes and the simplicity that can come from something that looks simple, but really isn’t simple to execute.”

The free dance made its full public debut in October, via an at-home video performance submitted to U.S. Figure Skating’s International Selection Pool Points Challenge—a new event introduced to allow elite skaters a competitive opportunity in the wake of COVID-related event cancellations. Its only traditional outing so far came at late October’s Skate America, before a live audience of judges, tech panelists, and whimsical cardboard cutouts of fans, pets, and the GEICO Gecko®. Any subsequent outside feedback has also come long-distance—thanks to video submissions to judges and the federation—but despite the uncertainties of the season beyond the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, the team has found ways to stay focused.

“I’d say that staying motivated, at least for myself, has been pretty easy because first, we chose programs that we both really enjoy performing, and second, that we really connect to,” said Donohue. “And then on top of that, we have some of our closest competition here with us. So I think that’s a pretty fortunate situation for us.”

“And especially working with an outside choreographer has helped, I think, kind of put almost competition dates in our mind,” added Hubbell. “It’s almost like those little milestones where it’s like, okay, we know Scott will come back in a month and a half and he’s left us with these projects, and now let’s develop those. And then we get feedback from him.”

The open schedule has, in its way, taught patience. “There were some moments in there that maybe the choreography was a new feeling for us, and instead of having to make it work or simplify something because a competition was coming, we were just able to really commit to the project,” she continued. “And things have remained relatively stable, which is actually, I think, better in the long term for the development of the program.”

***

There’s another bond involved here—that between Hubbell, Donohue, and “Hallelujah,” a connection they’ve discussed since first using lang’s rendition for their short dance in the 2015-16 season. It’s a song closely tied to the early days of their partnership, when Donohue would sing the piece to Hubbell to ease her nerves. In the strangeness of this year’s off-ice off-season, coach Patrice Lauzon suggested the team choose a piece for their free dance that felt like home for them, or a concept that felt underexplored. The answer—including the choice this time of Buckley—was obvious.

“I think we feel like we never really got to fully experience what ‘Hallelujah’ was or could have been because it was missing the feeling that we get… I mean, any time we’d be in the car on a road trip, we’d play one, we’d talk about the other,” said Donohue. “Play the other one, we’d talk about the other one. I mean, they were always kind of synonymous with each other because of the balance of what they brought to the other piece.”

Lang’s version, with a more pronounced 6/8 beat and warmer arrangement, was the more obvious choice for a short dance pairing a Ravensburger Waltz and march. “And it was a good time, I think, in our career, the first year of coming to these new coaches, to explore the more hopeful and outward expression of ‘Hallelujah,’” said Hubbell. But the free was another story. “We knew that the Jeff Buckley version was very important to our relationship. And the Jeff version is Zach for me—like, that is him personified. So it definitely wasn’t going to be the right program without it.”

Dubreuil asked the couple which elements of each song they most wanted to utilize, and she, Moir, and music editor Hugo Chouinard took command of the final arrangement, while Karl Hugo composed a bridging piece to connect the two versions. The full edit has remained untouched since its creation—an unusual situation for elite ice dancers in general, and particularly for Hubbell and Donohue.

“We’re usually the ones nitpicking here and there,” said Hubbell. “And I think she knew that we were so attached to this song that even talking the first time, it was like, which parts do you like? And I was like, well, I like this verse and this verse, and I definitely want to use this verse. I think she knew that she had to take an outsider’s approach. Definitely there are verses that I am very attached to myself that aren’t in that song, and I just carry that energy into the music, even though the words aren’t there.”

Musically, Buckley’s version in particular can be challenging for a skater, incorporating unusual rhythmic moments and spare instrumental backing, while the soaring vocal line and steady pace of lang’s version demands creativity to avoid any obvious choices. An inability to choreograph on ice until after the song’s final edit disrupted the team’s typical hands-on approach to working through music, elements, and layout as an ongoing process.

“Twizzles, for example, was a part where we had a completely different feeling of where it should start, and Marie said something like, ‘oh, we should start it on this music,’ and we were like—” Hubbell offered a dubious expression. “’Not sure, that seems like the weirdest accent to start.’ And then we tried it, and it was like, wow.” So too, she said, with the choreographic sliding move that closes the program.

The outcome has been a program with each element custom-set to the music, intricately woven with even the subtlest accents—even if it means scrapping planned work. “We had a lift in mind that we wanted to put in, and we’ve been working on it throughout the season,” she continued. “And as cool as the lift is, it doesn’t seem to fit. It’s like too dynamic for the quietness of the music, so I think it goes into the log for another year.”

“Hallelujah” itself is often custom-modified by its interpreters. Leonard Cohen claimed to have composed around 80 verses for the song, shifting lines in and out in live performance and giving future artists an opening to craft the story they most wish to emphasize. Hubbell and Donohue similarly prefer to leave their own program open to viewer interpretation.

“We chose it because it’s something very personal and it’s very home for us, and even in the creation of the program with Scott, he never asked to go too far into that bubble,” said Hubbell. But for the team, the messages conveyed by Buckley and lang transcend words.

“[Buckley] has this kind of broken vulnerability about him,” said Donohue. “Like, you hear his voice, and you just kind of don’t move. Even the way he just exhales in the very beginning of the music—we didn’t cut that out because we really felt like it set the tone for what he was feeling and the way he was expressing the lyrics.”

Hubbell finds in Buckley’s rendition a sense of loss, “a painful kind of plea,” whereas lang’s version offers a sense of catharsis. “Jeff’s, each verse, you just feel a little bit more broken inside, a little bit more empty,” she said. “It’s part of why we put Jeff at the beginning, because we felt like we needed to build to a moment of, okay, everything is going to be okay. We all go through this, and there’s light on the other side.”

And then there’s the sense of subject matter—the interpretations of “Hallelujah,” of course, ranging from the spiritual to the sensual.

Of Buckley’s, Hubbell noted, “there’s an intimate, more of a human quality, where I feel like he’s singing about someone or about a lover. There are moments in that song where it feels so much more of a human to human connection. And then k.d.’s, where it really feels ethereal. It feels like she’s singing to God, it feels like she’s asking for some help or some guidance from something that is not understood.”

And while Hubbell and Donohue’s free dance is the merging of two musical perspectives, it’s good to remember that so, too, is its design—Moir joined by the veteran Dubreuil.

“For me,” said Hubbell, “working with them and doing their choreography, it’s like Scott is the Jeff Buckley version and Marie-France is the k.d. lang version. Scott has this grounded, very real—like, there’s no faking the emotion, there’s no contrived story, there’s just real connection, intimacy. You know, just that kind of earthy version that is Jeff Buckley. And working with Marie-France is a lot more giving, it’s a lot more bringing something to the audience that’s watching you, open and graceful and specifically very feminine.”

It’s been said that “Hallelujah” is a song that didn’t quite find its own final form until transformed by new interpretations—first by John Cale, who inspired Jeff Buckley, the impact of whose version then, on some level, inspired many others that followed.

And while it’s easy to look at one team’s free dance as a revision, or perhaps addendum, to an earlier short, it’s more compelling to consider the idea of a genetic thread between interpreters. As Cohen begat Cale begat Buckley and lang, Virtue and Moir’s own “Hallelujah” was choreographed by Marina Zoueva, who injected into that exhibition a few moves drawn from decorated pair Ekaterina Gordeeva and Sergei Grinkov. Hubbell and Donohue’s free in turn carries not only Moir and Dubreuil’s DNA, but echoes of their forebears. The complex but intimate transitions would’ve suited any Virtue and Moir free dance of the early 2010s; the emphasis on utilizing every inch of music through contemporary dance is a legacy of Jennifer Swan and Guillaume Cote.

But my own investment in identifying the program’s intricacies, from musical nuance to choreographic accent, is also just another way of interpreting the enigma that is “Hallelujah.”

“We hope that when people watch it, they have their own experience,” said Hubbell. “Even for us, each time we skate it or practice it, it can bring out a different feeling based on what we’re going through in that moment, so I don’t think there’s a story that should be known. I mean, ‘Hallelujah,’ for me, is like life. Whatever you need it to mean for you in that moment is what it should mean.”

—Two for the Ice

[big-boy-noodle]

Meet the pets

Prince- Adult male normal/ wild type ball python

Rescue date: June 2nd 2017

Estimate age: 14-15 y/o (based off information from previous owner)

Prince was given to me by a family member's coworker who was having a baby soon and didn't want him. He came in a 20gal tank with a lamp and log hide. Overall a very calm and friendly snake who enjoys exploring and meeting new people.

Cecil - adult male champagne ball python

Rescue date: April 15th 2018

Estimate age: between 3-5 y/o (based off growth rate since getting him)

Cecil was adopted from Snakes Alive animal rescue in Tulsa, OK. When I got him he was extremely underweight and dehydrated. He is also extremely shy and stresses easily. He has a mild wobble due to the champagne gene but is a healthy, happy snake who prefers to be left alone.

BlackBerry - Male brazillian black tarantula/ Grammostola pulchra

Purchase date: June 23rd 2019

Age: 3 y/o

Passed October 2021, cause of death unknown

BlackBerry was purchased as an unsexed sling from expo (left). He's fairly docile but doesn't enjoy being held for extended amounts of time. He does is fairly active when not molting so I see him a lot!

Teeth- juvenile female black eyed luesistic ball python

Rescue date: March 17th 2021

Age: about 1 y/o (2020 hatchling)

Teeth was rehomed to me by someone locally who was having issues with her biting them. She had another owner before them who she also bit expressively. So far she has not struck or bit me and is a very curious snake. She is very food motivated, but actively recognizes that food is only given on metal tongs. She was a big underweight and dehydrated when I brought her home, but overall is a very healthy snake.

Rosemary- unsexed Curly hair tarantula / Tliltocatl albopilosus

Purchase date: June 21st 2021

Rosemary was purchased at expo as an unsexed sub-adult. At this time I have been unable to collect a molt from them to identify their sex. They are very shy and I have only recently started seeing them outside of their burrow

Other pets

Squeak: 5 y/o cream female cat, rescue July 2020

Khoshekh: 3 y/o black male cat, rescue May 2020

Mars: crested gecko, belongs to partner

Cornbread: albino axolotl, belongs to partner

Beans: wild type axolotl, belongs to partner

Deceased pets

Pancake: ???- November 2020, rescue May 2020. 7+ y/o female bearded dragon with metabolic bone disease, heart disease, and liver disease. Was humanely euthanized after losing weight and refusing food; treatment would have been too aggressive for her to handle in this state

Thistle: unsexed curly hair tarantula sling. Passed away November 2020 due to temperature fluctuations in my apartment from weather changes

[ghosts-and-swords]

(Because I am really bored and my new laptop is supposed to come up later today.)

Thriller Bark

Perona is the daughter of a rouge lesser noble that fled her country and joined the Gecko Pirates at some point. Moria never told her this and she believes he simply found her after her parents ditched her.

Moria decided to keep it a secret to spare her from the pain of knowing about her mother's final hours. He didn't want her to grow up wishing for vengeance on Kaido for what he did to her.

At some point during her childhood, being the spoiled little girl she obviously was, she demanded to get the cutest, creepiest Devil Fruit there was. Moria wasn't too happy to give it to her, knowing the consequences it would have, but in the end her tantrums won the argument.

When the crew captured Brook's shadow, he tried to win Perona's friendship in hopes she would help him break free from Moria's hold. Perona actually liked him a lot, and she enjoyed his music whenever he played for her, but she couldn't go against her father's orders.

She is a big fan of Soul King because of this.

Perona can't play instruments, no matter how hard Brook tried to teach her and how angry she got because of it. She has a nice singing voice, tho.

Perona never liked Hogback and Absalom much for their perverted personalities, but the doctor made her skin crawl. It worsened when he brought Victoria Cindry's corpse along.

Absalom, on the other hand, eventually grew on her when he bought her expensive teddy bears and cute things. Absa had a good eye for cute things.

Perona kept it a secret that Cindry had some of her former life's will left and befriended both the original Cindry and the shadow within her corpse.

Cindry, though filled with hatred for Moria, Hogback and dinner plates, always liked Perona and served her food in proper dishwear.

When Perona came back to Thriller Bark after the timeskip, she buried Cindry's body in her Wonder Garden, hoping she'd finally get some well-deserved rest. She took Kumashi back to Kuraigana to keep his remains close to her new home, and Mihawk helped burying him in the castle's courtyard.

Just after he adopted her, Moria got Perona a pet bear as a gift. It grew very large in no time and attempted to eat the girl several times. He was abandoned in the forests at some point, and whenever he and Perona crossed paths, the bear went feral.

Kumashi has nothing to do with said bear, but she named them the same because she's lousy at naming pets.

She asked Moria to change Kumashi's shadow several times in hopes her servant would get a nicer, cuter voice, but not a single soul seemed to be compatible with the zombie bear.

Perona is scared of all kinds of insects, but cockroaches in particular make her panic. She demands her zombies to be clean in order to avoid bugs from getting into her chambers.

Moria could never teach her how to fight, but insisted she mastered her DF's powers as much as she could. At some point, before PTSD and depression got the best of him, he was quite adept at brawling, but he could never get her to try it. However, she believed her father would always be there to keep her safe, and believed it wasn't necessary.

(This is somehow of a key point for one of the fics I'm working on) Perona developed certain necromantic abilities while reading many cursed books that she gathered from ancient zombies. She talked down this abilities with Hogback, thinking that perhaps she can help raise zombies without the need of her captain's shadows. Perona doesn't know this forbidden knowledge comes with a heavy toll, and I guess you can see where the plot is getting at.

Perona secretly resented hard crew never came out to look for her, but in part she knew she was also to blame, because she never looked for them either. When she learned about Moria's whereabouts, she was really sad about Absalom's death because she never got to say goodbye.

1 | 2 |

[downwiththeficness]

In the Bond-Chapter 4

Summary: Lilah often wished she’d never said yes to working with the Gecko brothers—usually while dodging gunfire. At no time was she regretting that decision more than when she’s hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring down a group of hungry culebras and one (1) extremely powerful sun god.

Word Count: ~5,600

Warnings: Violence, Gore

A/N: This is an AU of my Story In the Blood, which can be read here. Basically, this fic explores what would have happened if Lilah had met up with Geckos before she met Brasa.

Start from the beginning   Previous Chapter   Next Chapter  

Read on AO3   Masterlist

In hindsight, leaving her perch was the wrong decision. Lilah knew that. But, she couldn’t sit on the roof and watch her friends get ambushed. A move she wouldn’t even have to make if they’d been wearing the comms, like she asked. But, no, the effort it took to synch several ear pieces to the same network, safeguard that network from outsiders, just so they’d not only have extra eyes but extra ears didn’t mesh with their old school style.

It wasn’t as if Lilah was going in completely blind or empty handed. She’d gotten her order in the previous day and spent a little time with it, firing off a few rounds. Richie had given her a clip full of shiny new bullets, and Lilah thought it was time to use them.

She stepped out onto the street, reflexively looking both ways. It was a useless gesture.  The little pack of warehouses was abandoned, the perfect place for a nest to form. This particular nest was working its way through the nearest town, picking off the homeless and the outsiders first. In a few months, they would be hitting the homes, the schools, and the churches. Seth was lucky he’d gotten the tip about it early, before they could take too many.

As quietly as she could, Lilah crept to the window of the building opposite where she’d set up her computer and the controls for demolition. The plan was to funnel them all into the building as they returned from feeding, then blow the place, taking the whole nest out in one go.  They (Lilah) expected that it would take some time to get the explosives placed.  What they didn’t expect was an early return of a few culebras. Before Lilah could get a word of warning out, Seth had hauled himself down the stairs from their makeshift hub on the rooftop, followed by Richie, who had given a long suffering sigh and followed suit, tucking his glasses into the breast pocket of his jacket.

Lilah peered through the window, eyes wide as she took in the fight. They were doing pretty well. Richie had his game face on, fangs flashing as he threw someone across the room. Seth had another on the ground, beating them senseless with what looked like a tire iron. All in all, not too bad a situation. She still didn’t understand why Seth had needed to come down here to begin with, but he had never been one to engage in a risk analysis—not when he could solve the problem with his fists.

As she continued to watch him fight, Lilah caught the anger in his face. He raged against his opponents, swinging hard and fast, giving no quarter. He’d been doing that a lot, lately—sublimated fury bursting forth untethered by any kind of control. Long after the battle was over, Seth would continue to fight with a singular focus. It was a blind spot that had caused this very situation.

The group of culebras she’d seen sneaking in through the side were approaching fast, picking up Seth and tossing him off their friend.  Lilah did the only thing she could think of.  She leaned down and grabbed a rock from the ground, used it to break the window, and took aim. The first shot took one by surprise, his body falling to the floor for Seth to finish off.  

Looking over his shoulder, Seth yelled, “The fuck are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass,” she shot back, firing another round. Followed by an irritated murmur, “Since you can’t seem to follow a simple plan.”

With ruthless efficiency, the brothers took out the remaining culebras.  Lilah held her position as she watched, picking off one or two more and wounding another enough for Richie to punch through his chest and pull out his heart.  She was so focused on the fight inside that she didn’t hear the footsteps coming towards her.  It wasn’t until she was yanked by the collar of her sweatshirt that she even knew there was another person there.

Stumbling back, Lilah hit the ground with an ‘oof’, her gun slipping from her hands with the impact. She looked at it, dejected, her brain helpfully telling her that she was a literal cliche at that moment.  Her opponent kicked it away with a laugh, joining her in the world of walking cliches.

Angry, Lilah scrambled to standing. He was ugly in a way that told her that he was ugly even when he wasn’t baring his fangs at her. Long hair, cut haphazardly in what might have been a mullet. Plaid shirt, jeans, boots. All dirty, somewhat torn. She could smell him, even from ten feet away.

“Pretty girl,” he growled, “I’m gonna love draining the life outta you.”

Did every bad guy have a book of one-liners that they studied from? Lilah had heard this particular one about a hundred times and it got old by round four. Just once, she’d like to hear a little creativity in the threat to her life. She sneered at him taking a step back and assessing.  The knife Richie had given her was strapped to her forearm. Lilah could use that, though she’d have to let him close. The thought filled her with revulsion.

Still, she pulled it from its sheath, brandishing it in her dominant hand. As she expected, he laughed again. Also as she expected, he lashed out. Hands with torn nails reached for her. Lilah brought the blade up in a slicing motion, just like Seth had shown her.

Catch the muscle in the forearm, it’ll fuck up their grip. Can’t punch if they can’t make a fist.

That’s what she did. The move wasn’t without cost. He caught her with an upper cut to her diaphragm, knocking all the air out of her. Lilah fell back on her ass, arm around her middle as she tried to draw a breath. Viciously, she pushed down the panic and tried to focus.  It was difficult to do when heat was suffusing her, burning so hot that she looked at her clothes to see if they’d caught fire.

It had been happening a lot of the last few days, in moments when Lilah wasn’t quite paying attention. She’d suddenly get warm. It was usually localized—her shoulder, her cheek, ruffling through her hair.  This was total body. Head to toe. Fire burning just beneath her skin in a raging sizzle that made her muscles spasm. Despite the warmth, she shivered.

Her opponent grabbed her beneath an arm and one thigh, hoisting her up above his head. She adjusted her grip on the blade, shoving it down into the space between shoulder and neck. He screamed, and she had about half a second to be satisfied with it before he was throwing her through a window. In the free fall, Lilah was able to keep hold of the knife, much good that it did her.

This time, she landed with much more than an ‘oof’. The wind having already been knocked out of her, the sound Lilah made was something akin to a frog being stepped on.

“I hate plate glass,” she said, when she found her voice, “I really, really hate plate glass.”

Her shoulder burned with pain, along with her hip. Lilah had to take a few breaths to see through it enough to get the layout of the room. There was an old desk that had been turned over. She started crawling towards it, wincing at the strain it put on her body.  From behind her, she hear him jump through the window after her, still laughing.

She hadn’t gotten more than a foot or so from where she’d landed when he used the toe of his boot to roll her over.  Biting her lip to keep from screaming, Lilah swung her arm in an arch, slicing through the meat of his thigh. He grunted, and smiled.  Jaw clenched, she glared up at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, then paused, his head tilting to the side. Against her better judgment, Lilah followed his line of sight, eyes widening at she caught the glint of a familiar black coat. Brasa stepped forward out of what looked like literal shadows. She could feel the heat rolling off him in waves, his eyes dark with rage.

While her attacker was distracted, she scooted further away, managing to get to the desk before the guy even realized what kind of danger he was in. Brasa said nothing, telegraphed nothing, but anger. He simply approached her opponent, stood within about a foot of him, and waited.

Lilah had the distinct feeling that this guy was pretty stupid, all things considered. He was looking at what he had to know was a more powerful being, and he was smirking at him. The arm holding her knife fell across her stomach, her body relaxing. There was nothing left for her to do but settle in and watch the show.

Brasa looked the other guy up and down, and though he was standing between her and the culebra, Lilah knew he did not like what he saw. Hell, she doubted anyone would like looking at him.

Without so much as a sound, Brasa lifted an arm, shoved his thumb into the guy’s eye socket and wrenched his wrist to the side. The skull cracked beneath the skin, which separated with the ease of tearing a piece of paper down a perforation. Lilah caught his brain matter sloshing out of the cavity before she had to look away. Wet, gooey sounds were followed by the heavy thud of the body. She swallowed back the urge the retch.

A moment later, Brasa’s boots were in front of her and he was kneeling down. Lilah chanced a glance at him, offering him a small smile.

“Good timing,” she said through a clenched throat.

The pain in her arm and hip throbbed to point of distraction, making even the effort to breathe almost more trouble than it was worth. She shifted as she tried to find a comfortable position that would take some of the strain off her limbs.

His eyes narrowed, “You’re hurt.”

She shrugged, winced, and said, “Part of the job.”

A breath hissed through his teeth, “It is not. You’re too fragile to be fighting off his kind.”

Lilah’s hand tightened around the knife, “Gee, thank you.”

Scoffing, Brasa adjusted his stance, moving to pull her to standing. The motion jostled her arm and she groaned, eyes closing as she breathed deep. He stilled, eyes assessing.

“Where?”

Jaw working, Lilah replied, “Rotator cuff is torn, hip may or may not be cracked. Bruised all to hell.  That about sums it up.”

With a harsh sound, Brasa ripped off his jacket and began working the button of his cuff, rolling the sleeve up.  Out came the now familiar knife, and he was pushing it into his skin before she could say a word.  

Gingerly, he helped her sit up a bit, “This will take care of the pain, for now.”

Hurting too much to complain, Lilah took the blood, refusing to acknowledge how good he tasted or how easily she had taken to the act. It took less convincing to make her throat swallow the blood downward, the warm, sweet taste coating her tongue. Breathing through her nose, she sucked deeper, eliciting a choked sound from him.

A few moments later, he tensed and eased her away. He stood, circling the desk, hand pushing his sleeve down. Lilah ducked back, unsure if he was going to have to take out another culebra. She held her knife at the ready, just in case.

“What is it with you and showing up unannounced?”

Seth. Also, valid question. Lilah wondered how he’d known when and where to show up.

“Who do you think gave you the information that there was a nest growing in these warehouses?”

Lilah wiped her face to make sure there would be no evidence of what they’d just been doing. And then she grabbed his coat, still laying on the floor, and stood on shaky legs.

“Hey guys,” she said with false levity, “Late again, as usual.”

To his credit, Seth didn’t look surprised, “You good?”

She nodded, “Just holding his coat while he took they guy out. Now I know what you guys feel like holding a purse in the dressing room.”

Solicitously, Lilah handed Brasa’s coat back to him. His expression when he took it was amused, but she didn’t think he was going to renege on his side of their deal. Their secret was safe, for now. To keep herself busy, she tucked the knife back into its sheath.

Richie sauntered in, cigarette in hand, “Charges are live...and we have company.”

Seth moved next to his brother, the two of them forming a wall of caustic sarcasm, “Indeed we do. Apparently, Brasa gave us the tip about the nest.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Seth drawled, “Awful nice of him.”

“It is.”

“Yes. It. Is.”

Lilah rolled her eyes, “Alright, we still have a job to do. Can we put aside our, frankly massive, egos and get it done. I’d like to get home before sunrise this time.”

Seth’s mouth pursed, but he eventually nodded. Richie was unmoved, but he followed his brother’s lead and his posture relaxed. Lilah resisted the breath of relief that threatened to blow through her nose.

“Okay,” she announced, hands flexing in front of her, “Let’s start with the two of you putting in your goddamned ear pieces.”

“You know I don’t work that way,” Seth protested.

“I literally don’t care,” she shot back, “I need to be able to communicate with you if we’re going to be successful.”

“This isn’t our first job,” Richie said, even as he pulled the ear bud from his pocket.

It wasn’t even their first job with Lilah. And, from the start, she’d insisted on better communication between herself in the eagle’s nest and the players down below. It was the only way she’d have enough information to give good directives and get everyone out alive. She was no longer amazed at their stubborn refusal.

“You want to go off half-cocked with twenty pounds of explosives wired to a detonator that only I know how to activate, sure. I’ll have our guy put in an order for a prosthetic...or two.”

“I’ll heal,” Richie said, brow lifted.

She nodded, “Your brother won’t.”

Looking somewhat censured, Richie stuffed the bud into his ear, his eyes narrow behind his glasses. Seth reluctantly did the same.

“Great. Now, I’m going to go up to the roof where my shit is set up. You both are going to get to your secondary location, and wait for my cue to pick off the stragglers after I set off the bombs.  We clear?”

Neither of them said anything, their eyes looking one way or another—anywhere that wasn’t at her.  She crossed her arms, waiting. It occurred to her that she should feel more pain from her shoulder with the motion.  At present, it had receded to a throbbing ache. Curious.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Seth muttered, finally,  “What about him?”

Brasa had been watching the entire exchange, threading his arms through the jacket, interest in his eyes. He looked at Seth pointing suspiciously at him, then to Lilah for direction.

“He’ll come with me.”

“Absolutely not.”

“He can literally see in the dark,” Lilah reasoned, “And, he’ll provide backup in case I have another...incident.”

There was no need to detail the ‘incident’ in question. Lilah wasn’t a sure thing in a fight. Too little training, too little strength. She watched Seth consider it, ignoring the smirk on Richie’s face.

With a nod, Seth turned and grabbed his brother’s shoulder, hauling him towards the door. Lilah turned her attention to Brasa and jerked her head towards the stairs.

“Roof is this way.”

He followed her up two flights of stairs, nearly silent, while Lilah made a serious attempt to keep her breathing even. Despite the cardio she regularly performed to stay in shape, stairs were stairs.

“How does the blood thing work?”

While her wounds weren’t healed by any means, the pain had lessened considerably. There was now only a dull tingle now where there had been sizzling wounds that radiated discomfort. She had almost full extension in her shoulder.

He hummed a little in question.

“The healing. You knew that the blood would help with the pain.”

They reached to roof entrance, stepping out into a humid night, a smattering of stars above. Lilah crossed over to the folding table that she’d brought with her. A laptop and the detonation device sitting next to a few odds and ends that she generally found useful to have around on any job.

“We are bondmates,” Brasa answered, as if that was all the explanation she would need.

Lilah shot him an annoyed grimace, silently telling him that she needed more information.

His brows quirked, hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket, “Blood is a conduit, Lilah. I gave you a little of my strength, that’s all.”

She blinked, “Is that why you,” she cleared her throat, the words stuck, “drink from me, too? So you get some of that strength back?”

It hadn’t escaped her notice that he had given her blood tonight, but hadn’t taken any. The deal wasn’t reciprocal, as was usual. She didn’t like feeling as if she owed him something.

Brasa shook his head, “No. My body will regenerate regardless of how much I give you.”

Her brows furrowed, “Then…?”

Eyes hooded, Brasa crowded her space. Two fingers touched beneath her chin gently. He leaned down, saying in a low voice, “Lilah, I drink from you because I want to. Because you taste so sweet that I wake up craving you. Because its better than any meal I’ve ever had.”

Her mouth went dry at the intensity of his gaze, the unwavering confidence in his voice. She had no words to respond with, couldn’t parse the feelings roiling in her belly.

A voice sounded in her ear, “We’re in position.”

The job. Seth. Richie. The explosives. Lilah shook herself and stepped away. Though her gaze remained on Brasa, she tapped her computer to wake it up.

“McNamara online,” she said as a reflex, “I don’t have a visual on the group, but recon puts them at returning in,” she looked at the clock in the lower right hand corner of the screen, “Ten minutes. You boys ready?”

“Roger that,” Richie said, laughter in his voice.

From over the line, Lilah heard a loud smack, followed by, “What? We can’t have a little fun with these things?”

With a deep sigh, Lilah muted her line and tugged on the hem of her sweatshirt. She never really expected a job to go perfectly smooth, but this one was just full of little stumbles that were adding up. Things were usually a little more organized than this, a little more polished. Since they had taken on the bar, their attention had been pulled in so many different directions that it was difficult to get everyone on the same page and focused. Lilah ran her hand over her face to calm herself.

A soft warmth bloomed at her shoulder, running along down her hand.  Lilah, who hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes, opened them and glanced at the only other person around.  He was standing a few feet away, observing her with interest.

Her eyes narrowed, “I knew it.”

Surprised, Brasa’s brows lifted, but he said nothing.

Turning to face him, Lilah pointed a finger, “I don’t know how, but I knew that was you.”

He looked just a little bit startled, lips parted, blinking slowly.  Lilah crossed her arms, cocking a hip to the side as she waited for an explanation.

“I won’t apologize,” he said, finally, having collected himself.

Jerking her chin towards him, Lilah asked, “What would I want you to apologize for?”

A breath, “It is unusual for bondmates to be separate for long periods of time, and unheard of so soon after finding one another.”

“And?”

“And, I find that I need to check in with you to ensure you’re well.”

That was...almost sweet. It didn’t excuse the behavior, but the context was reassuring.

“You could have called me.”

“You didn’t give me your number.”

“You could have called the bar.”

In a voice laced with sarcasm, he said, “Yes, I’ll just call the establishment owned by people who are more enemies than friends and ask for you. I wonder how long it would take for your secret to get to Seth and Richie.”

Mouth thinning, Lilah felt her face heat, “I am doing my best, here.”

“As am I,” he retorted, shifting his stance, “I’d appreciate some consideration for my position.”

“Your position?”

“Yes, my position. I have people to keep fed, a business to run, and a bondmate who not only insists on living separately, but also insists on secrecy.”

“I have responsibilities, too,” Lilah asserted, throwing her hands up, “I can’t drop my entire life because of,” she gestured weakly between them, “This.”

A voice sounded in her earbud, “Uh, Lilah?”

She stabbed the mute button, “What?”

“How many were supposed to be in this nest?” Seth asked, a tinge of panic in his voice.

“Recon put it at no more than 20.”

“Well, it looks like they found some friends.”

Craning her neck to look over the edge of the roof, Lilah checked the deep black horizon, seeing nothing, “How many?”

A beat, muffled voices, “Richie says he sees about forty or fifty, but its hard to tell.  They’re moving pretty fast.”

Lilah did a few calculations in her head—the size of the warehouse, the amount of C4 they’d put in there, the structure of the building as a whole.

“Plan stays the same,” she announced, “Funnel ‘em in. Blow ‘em to hell.”

“Roger that,” came Richie’s voice.

“Shut up,” Seth griped, and Lilah could just see him rolling his eyes, “We’ll hold position and pick off the ones that run.”

With a nod, Lilah pushed the mute button again. As she stared at the computer screen, another thought brushed against the forefront of her mind.

“How does it work?”

Brasa made a soft, questioning sound.

She looked up at him, “How does the...touching without touching thing work?”

He gave an elegant shrug, “Magic.”

Lilah huffed in disbelief, shaking her head and returning her attention to the screen. All detonators were active.  Absently, she pressed her hand to the little box to her right. It wouldn’t open without her fingerprints, a safety precaution she may not have needed to take—she was a safety girl, through and through. A little bit of paranormal phenomenon wasn’t going to change that. Flipping the top open, she flicked the little levers over each of the detonator buttons. Red lights turned green. Active and ready to fire.

“You know that culebras exist, you’re standing next for a born and bred Xibalban, and you scoff at magic?”

Lilah eyed him briefly, “Call me a cynic, if you like. But magic can’t be the only explanation.”

“Blood is the conduit of the soul,” he murmured. Lilah heard his voice, and Richie’s voice saying it in real time, the rhythm exact in a way that told her this was something ingrained into all of them. “It is also what ties us irrevocably together.”

She didn’t like the way he said ‘irrevocably’, the finality of his tone. Before she’d been taken on by the brothers Gecko, Lilah had been pretty much a nomad. She went where the work was, stayed exclusively in hotels or slept in her car (rented, or otherwise). The concrete knowledge that this thing between her and Brasa was so solid that it could not be broken made her skittish.

Before she could stop herself, and full well knowing that she wasn’t going to get a good reaction, Lilah said, “Is this like what you had with Amaru, a blood bond?”

His jaw clenched, eyes looking up and away. He even took a tiny step back. Lilah swallowed back the urge to apologize, hands clenching on the keyboard of her laptop.

“What that was,” he began, “Is not what this is. It could never be. The queen bonded me into service, into servitude. I could not refuse a command, no matter the cost.” His voice grew tense as he continued,  “I fought who she wanted, fucked who she wanted, killed at her will.”

Lifting up from where she was leaning on the little table, Lilah cast him a soft look, “That must have been frustrating.”

His expression was dark and more than a little angry, “It was.”

“But you’re not still bound to her? Or, I guess, to Kate?” She’d heard it from Kate, but Lilah needed to hear it from him.

Brasa shook his head, “No. The bond died with her.”

There was a long silence that yawned between them, Lilah trying to figure out if she’d crossed a line, and Brasa brooded nearby. It went on so long that the plan kicked into action while they were both still waiting for one another to say anything.

Sounds filtered in from across the street, people talking, doors opening.  She knew they’d find the bodies of their friends where Seth and Richie had left them. She also knew that they would take time to search the area.  The plan remained. Bomb the ones inside, shoot the ones running outside.  

Leaning over to look off the roof, Lilah’s hand hovered over the ignition. She watched the group argue, watched them look furtively around for their enemies. And, when as many of them were gathered in the building as were likely to do so, she pressed the button. It took about three seconds for the first one to go off, the rest followed in a staccato of fire and sound that blew out the windows.  

She ducked down, attempting to avoid flying debris. To her surprise, Brasa knelt down next to her, though he continued to look over the edge of the roof.

“Is this how you normally operate?”

“Not really,” she answered, “Why?”

His eyes turned to her, “Because this is the second time I’ve seen you use explosives.”

She shrugged, “We had some left over from the last job. I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

Mouth tugging up on one side, Brasa dipped his chin and said, “Speaking of the last job.”

He reached back and pulled her gun from the waistband of his pants, hidden by the heavy drape of his coat. He must have picked it up in the street where she’d dropped it below, a complete circle that had started when he’d first taken her weapon in that dark basement.

Lilah took it from him, “You have a habit of taking my weapons.”

“You have a habit of losing them.”

Gunshots fired, and Lilah knew the second part of the plan had started.  She stayed right where she was, her weight on one knee, looking at him. His expression had softened to amusement, and it looked like his earlier ire had passed. More gunshots, raised voices, snarls. Lilah leaned over the edge and looked down, cursing when one of the culebras caught sight of her.

“They saw me,” she breathed, thumb rolling over the safety on her pistol. “Gonna be a fight.”

Brasa smiled, “Good.”

They both stood, having no further need to hide.  Lilah kept her eye on the door, but that turned out to be unnecessary.  Brasa tapped her arm, flicking his fingers towards the street.  Lilah peered down and groaned. They were climbing the fucking walls.  She aimed, firing off a few rounds and knocking one down.

“Let them up,” Brasa ordered.

Lilah looked at him, incredulous, “You’re kidding.”

“No,” he shook his head, “Let them up. I’ll take care of them. You cover me.”

She looked at him a few more moments longer, then lifted both hands in surrender, taking several steps back from the edge and aiming. Brasa continued to look down, eyes focused. When the first of them cleared the edge, he bent at the knees, hauled them up, and threw them down head first onto the roof. Dazed, the guy didn’t react when he was rolled over and subsequently put out of his misery by a well placed stomp of Brasa’s boot, the kick going rough his rib cage straight to the other side. She winced, but held her stance.

The next guy had his arm ripped off before he could get to the lip of the roof, his head following soon after. And then two breached the roof, both of them attacking at the same time. Lilah had enough distance and focus to note how easily Brasa was fighting them off.  But, when one got an arm around his shoulder and pushed him down, the other poised to use both hands to hammer punch him, Lilah squeezed the trigger.

Brasa dispatched with the guy trying to hold him down, and then turned to flash her a pleased smile, “You have good aim.”

She blinked, “I have shitty aim. I was going for his arm.”

“But you hit him in the neck. Better shot,” he countered as he approached. “Are you hurt?”

Lilah laughed, “I should be asking you that.”

“I’m fine,” he said, smile holding, “No sweat.”

She eyed him, “I can see that.”

He wasn’t even out of breath. Could he even sweat? What was the physiology of a Xibalban?

Her earbud buzzed, “You good up there?”

Lilah stepped over to her computer, holstering her gun and tapping the mute button, “I’m good. You get them all?”

“No,” Richie said with a growl, “Couple got away.”

Hissing through her teeth, Lilah shook her head, “Well, maybe we scared them enough that they won’t come back.”

“Or,” Seth cut in, and she could hear muffled sounds behind his voice, “We just taught them how to be more careful.”

Shutting down her computer and pulling her bag out from underneath the table, Lilah gave a deep sigh, “Doesn’t matter. We’re done, here. At least for tonight.”

Brasa observed her while she packed up, his gaze a physical weight on the back of her neck. Uncomfortable with the silence, Lilah asked the question that had been burning at the back of her brain since the night she’d met him.

“How come you don’t bite me? Do Xibalbans not bite?”

A low chuckle rumbled, “We bite.”

She dropped the bag gently on the ground and tipped the table over to fold its legs underneath and the tabletop in half so that it would fit in her carrying case.  When he didn’t elaborate, she rolled her wrist at him, an unspoken gesture for more.

“What do you know about venom?”

She paused, an ache forming behind her eyes. He’d asked her a similar question when he’d explained the bond between them. She clocked it for what it was, a stalling technique.

“Just pretend that I don’t know shit about anything, okay?” She snapped, “Pretend I’ve been living under a rock.”

His brows drew together in confusion, but he continued nonetheless, “Behind my fangs are two glands that secrete a venom that is meant to keep my,” he paused, “donor...pliable.”

Hauling both bags over her shoulder, Lilah asked, “Pliable?”

He hummed in confirmation, “Less fighting means a cleaner bite.”

“Is it toxic?”

Brasa shook his head, “Not really. My experience is that the venom induces pleasurable feelings, though the effects are different for everyone.”

He followed her to the stairs, angling around her to get the door.

Lilah gave him a grateful nod, “And you don’t want to expose me to the venom?”

With the load she was carrying, Lilah didn’t dare turn her head to look at him, but she was comforted by the sound in the negative that reached her ears.

“I don’t want your perception of me to be colored by...the effects.”

At the landing, Lilah turned and smiled wryly at him, “You think I’ll like you more if you get me high.”

The slight pause in his step told her that she’d guessed right. Her smile widened, and she turned to make her way outside.

“The consideration is appreciated,” she called back to him as she cleared the door.

“Thank you,” he responded, following her out.

They watched Seth and Richie approached, rifles over their shoulders. Lilah moved to the alley, the trunk popping from a distance. She threw both bags in it and closed the lid, heading back to the men who were staring each other down not far away. Lilah noticed that both Seth and Richie were still holding their rifles close to their bodies.

“Okay,” she said loudly, “I think that’s a wrap, don’t you?”

Seth cut a look at her that was more annoyed than angry, “I agree.” Then, to Brasa, “Thanks for coming to the party. How about, next time, you RSVP first.”

Brasa smirked, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lilah rolled her eyes and reached over to pull Seth by the arm, “Let’s go. Like I said, I want to be home before the sun comes up.” Over her shoulder, she said, “Thanks for the assist.”

Brasa gave her a courteous nod. Lilah congratulated herself that she didn’t look back, even when they were tearing out into the desert towards home. They did, in fact, get there before sunrise.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Roguish Women Part 47

Summary: Kate is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and  playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 47: The final bullet in the vendetta.

            Kate woke up to find the bed empty beside her. It was early, she’d been anxious to be on time. She knew Tommy wouldn’t wake her up in hopes that she would sleep through the planned event.

            But she was up and dressed before she usually was. The flat was just as empty as the bed. Kate slipped on her coat and went down the street to the distillery. Several of the men on watch tipped their cap her way.

            Finn was waiting for her at the top of the stairs. He looked conflicted when she approached. “Tommy said not to let you come.” He stood between her and the stairs.

            Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, that’s not his choice to make, now, is it?”

            “The youngest Shelby didn’t look like he wanted to get caught up in the argument, but also didn’t want to catch flak from his brother. “It’d just be easier…”

            “We’re not living in easy times.” She interrupted. “I’ve heard Tommy’s side and I’ve made up my mind.” She concluded before pushing past Finn and making her way downstairs.

            Only Tommy was there, standing near a table with two chairs. He held a bottle of gin in his hand.

            “You never explained the label to me,” Kate spoke up to alert him of her presence.

            He turned although he didn’t seem too surprised that she had shown up. “What needs explaining?”

            She walked up to him and took the bottle from his hand. “Distilled for the eradication of seemingly incurable sadness.” She read off, having noticed it earlier when they were talking to Alfie.

            “Polly said that when you were in America, I nearly drank meself to death.” He answered calmly. “That and with the morphine, it was the only way I could tolerate being without you. I could sleep, I could ease myself of the guilt, and I could forget. But I’d much rather have you here.” He cradled her cheek in his hand. “So, go back home and wait for me.”

            “I’ll be right here. For the rest of your life, I’ll be here.” She kissed him softly, refusing to go anywhere.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Kate hadn’t seen Luca Changretta in years. His name had been haunting her for so long that she nearly forgot how long it’d been since they’d been face to face. He’d grown into a menacing figure, something she always knew he would be. The kind of fierce stature he was destined to become under the guidance of some of the most ruthless dons America had ever seen.

            Luca’s eyes landed on her as he stopped in front of her, Polly, Tommy, and Finn. But he didn’t speak to her. Instead, he beckoned one of his men to bring over a handful of documents, spread across the table.

            “I’ve had my lawyers draw up these. Documents for everything you own. And you’re gonna sign them all over to my family. Or you’re gonna die.” Standing in front of Tommy, Luca looked back to Kate. “I would’ve buried your whole family. Y’know, my mother knows you.” Luca said steadily. “She told me how to hurt you. How to really make you suffer. ‘Take everything from him, then make him watch Kathleen Lynch die.”

            Tommy didn’t flinch. He simply maintained eye contact with the man. Kate didn’t budge either.

            “Because she’s worse than you are, in some ways.” Luca continued. “She murdered two people who were loyal to me and my family. Killed them in cold blood for no reason. You and I, we kill to gain something, don’t we? But her? She just doesn’t care, does she? I’ve got the Leoni family asking me to right her wrongs. Take care of her so she doesn’t do any more harm. So, I will. And you’ll watch and live with the knowledge that you were her downfall.”

            Polly shifted a bit so she was standing more in front of Kate. But neither of them said a word in response.

            “Search them,” Luca commanded after finding a gun in Tommy’s coat. “The dead girl walking has a gun on her thigh.” He added, sending a glare towards Kate.

            None of them said anything as they were patted down. Kate reached down and pulled the gun from her holster on her thigh, handing it over.

            Luca began pushing each document onto the floor. “So, get down on your knees and sign those papers. I’ll even let you say goodbye to her if you’re quick about it.” He gestured for one of his men with a heavy-looking gun over. The executioner in place, as it were.

            Tommy’s eyes flicked to Polly then Kate before he sank to the floor. “A friend once told me that big fucks small. So, I had to find someone bigger than you.”

            “You’re too trusting to leave your empire behind to boys, Luca,” Kate spoke up on cue. “Who’s making sure the Spinetta’s don’t decide to take what’s yours? You may work for them but they have no loyalty to you. Your family is all but wiped out. Your allies in Boston are dead because of me. I’ve gotten word from Frank Wallace that the Gustin Gang has already seized half of the territory Santo Leoni used to own. They’re loyal to us and they could very well take all of it within the next year. And you know how much Frank just loves to hate you. You’ll never make a profit in that city again. After that you’ll lose New York too.”

            “And there’s a man in Chicago who’s willing to take over your business in New York as well,” Polly added.

            Kate couldn’t help the small smirk on her face. Vengeance really was sweet. “Now who do we know in Chicago that’s bigger than you’ll ever be?”

            Luca seemed like he was starting to grasp the ploy that had been made in front of him. The smugness was starting to fade from his eyes.

            “Alphonse Capone.” Tommy finished for her.

            “You’re talking to that fat fuck?” He hissed and looked to Kate. “That man killed your fucking mother and you’re working with him?”

            “The fact that you know that proves to me you were the one who told the Outfit where my mother lived. You were the final nail in her coffin.” She wasn’t as good at containing her anger like Tommy and Polly. “You used him to kill my mother and to get me out of your hair. Now I’m going to use him to kill you.”

            “All your blood relatives you brought here are dead. The only ones left are the ones who will take the highest bid.” Tommy concluded

            Luca turned to his men. The shock slowing down his movements.

            “Loyalty is so fickle, isn’t it?” Kate said with venom in her voice.

            Luca turned back to Tommy and reached for his coat.

            “Tommy!” Kate shrieked.

            He reacted fast, knocking the pistol out of Luca’s hand. Polly had to pull Kate away from the men brawling. She felt helpless, watching Tommy finally get the upper hand and slam Luca’s face into the gin bottles on the table.

            She was so caught in the action that she didn’t see the door open until Arthur was well in her line of vision, holding up a gun.

            The bullet went through Luca’s head and into the vat behind him. The final crescendo.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            Kate was almost bouncing out of her skin to get out of Birmingham. She was all smiles as they arrived at Arrow House. The large manor was such a sight to behold even at dusk when they pulled up the gravel drive.

            “Some fresh air, aye?” Tommy smiled as he helped Kate out of the car.

            “I can’t wait to see Blue tomorrow. I hope he hasn’t forgotten me.”

            “Horses have very good memories.” He assured her, linking arms with her as they walked back into the home they’d missed. “I’m sure he’ll be just as glad to see you.”

            “I’m going to get ready; they’ll be here soon.” On top of being back in Warwickshire and spending a nice evening with friends and family, they were finally able to tell everyone the news of Kate’s pregnancy. With the vendetta behind them, it seemed there was nothing but the open sky ahead of them. Even if it was naïve to think it would be smooth sailing from then on, Kate still wanted to believe that it would.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Tommy called for everyone’s attention as they drank and laughed in the parlor later on that night. He stood with Kate sitting nearby.

            “Listen up, before we go and eat, I’d like to say a few words. Last time we were all here, it ended badly. But now we’re in a happier place, something I think we all deserve. Last time, Kate wasn’t with us. But she’s here now and that’s something I’m very grateful for.”

            “I think that’s something we’re all grateful for.” Arthur chimed in loudly. “Keeps you in line.”

            Kate laughed. “I try my best.”

            “That she does.” Tommy looked fondly at her. “Other happy news, we’ll be having a wedding as soon as we can plan it. And we’ll be expecting a new arrival, maybe two if Pol’s right. Which, we all know she is when it comes to these things. In other words, Kate is expecting twins.”

            There was a murmur of surprise but Ada looked thrilled as she crossed the room to hug her. “I should’ve known. How couldn’t I have known?”

            “Twins, aye?” Arthur shook his head with a grin. “And what’ll they be, Polly? Boys or girls or both?”

            “Two boys,” Polly reported. “God bless us all.”

            Kate smiled and stood up to kiss Tommy’s cheek. What a happy occasion.

            “Then, that gives me even more of an argument for what m’about to say.” Arthur stood up with his whiskey glass in hand. “Our enemies are gone. And for the first time since we enlisted in the yeomanry. The Shelby boys, me, Tommy, and John.” He paused briefly, sadness in his eyes for their fallen brother. “For the first time, there’s peace. Since you’ve got little ones on the way, you need some free time. So, I propose, from everyone in the company, that Tommy should take a holiday. War’s over. It’s time you’ve rested.”

            Kate nodded and squeezed Tommy’s hand.

            “To peace.” Arthur finished his toast, giving his brother an earnest look. But Tommy’s eyes were distant. There was something that wasn’t done with.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea  @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list: @radical-gecko @actorinfluence @meltingicequeen @merlettina 

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[tinyrosemarysparrows]

So this year I’ve gone kind of crazy with Christmas cheer. In which my apartment is slowly being taken over by holly jolly decor, as well as this big ass tree I bought yesterday. I’m not sure why this year is the one that I’m really into the holiday mood, but it’s been kind of bittersweet.

I took Oma in earlier this year. For anyone who has missed the posts about her, she’s my parents’ 14-15 year old stray cat who lived outside her entire life. I started trying to get her when I moved out and only got permission for it this summer. She came home in awful condition and every month I find something new that’s wrong with her. It’s gone necrotic abscess -> bad cherry eye -> hyperthyroidism -> possible kidney disease/failure (we can’t diagnose it with the thyroid issue) -> roundworm -> severe eye infection. I could go on, honestly. You may also notice that a lot of the issues have overlapping symptoms.

This recent infection has been the most severe. We’ve got one more day before we can tell if the antibiotics helped, but it’s at the point where I’m waiting to buy her a stocking until we are much closer to Christmas. At the end of the day, I’ve resolved to do whatever is best for her quality of life. I’ve seen what happens when an owner is selfish and drags out the animal’s suffering because they personally “aren’t ready.”

I don’t want to lose her. She’s been around long enough that she’s my baby now, just like Edda or the geckos. She’s changed my life as an adult now and has given me such unconditional love from the day I brought her home. But I think we’re reaching the end of our time together.

So for anyone that’s been following her progress and mostly just so I can talk about it a little, Oma may be leaving us soon. This is the worst condition that she’s ever been in and it’s heartbreaking that she’s still refusing food when she’s previously been the kind of cat to snatch it off of plates. I know no matter what she’ll be the first pet that I’ve lost myself, which is a strange feeling to know for sure that one will go before the others.

I’m hoping for the best, expecting the worst. But if she goes I don’t want to announce it with no warning.

[risinglotusproject]

Picture books to read during Cambodian New Year week

Happy TLC (Thai, Lao, Cambodian) New Years everyone! It is a time where we can celebrate our beautiful culture and holiday during the week of April 12th. 

If you are like me you might or might not be thinking, are there any Cambodian New Year books out there in English or bilingual for Cambodian kids? My motto is usually if it ain’t by Khmer, I won’t buy. It is because I want to support our Cambodian/Cambodian American authors. Although I make a few exceptions due to my personal curiosity. If you are like me browsing on Amazon, there are many people who would want to capitalize on the fact that there are really not that many children’s picture books, story books, etc. on Cambodian culture, holidays, stories, and more. Sellers would raise the price like crazy!

You can definitely check with your local library to see if they carry any copies of these books rather than buying first. Remember, your VOICE matters, and the public library is there to support our communities! If they don’t carry a copy, you can always make a suggestion for purchase.

Let me share with you with what I have found:

Cambodian New Year by Michele Dufresne 

Cost: $6.00

https://pioneervalleybooks.com/products/cambodian-new-year

Book Summary: A little girl recounts a Cambodian celebration at her school as well as interesting facts about this special day of the year.

My personal thoughts: Easy reader book with photographs. Published in 2006 and the photos are a bit blurry. Not too in depth on Cambodian New Year. The story is narrated in the voice of the young Cambodian girl. This book totally reminds me of my childhood, dancing the “Deer dance” in the school auditorium for all to see. Kinda embarrassing and fun for me.  

Sinat and the Instrument of the Heart : A Story of Cambodia by Chath pierSath

https://www.thriftbooks.com/w/sinat-and-the-instrument-of-the-heart-a-story-of-cambodia-make-friends-around-the-world_chath-piersath/

Cost: Varies, you can purchase from Thriftbooks, Amazon, etc. for $4.00 and up (also a cd might not accompany the book if purchased used)

 Summary: Sinat is a young boy in Cambodia. He learns to play a thousand-year-old string instrument from the last great living master who teaches him the special skill. The story is based on the real-life experience of a boy named Sinat, whose actual musical performance is recorded on the CD that accompanies this book.

My personal thoughts: To quote the Khmer author, “There are many ways to be human, as there are many ways to be Cambodian.” -Chath pierSath

The Last King of Angkor Wat by Graeme Base

Cost: $17.95

http://graemebase.com.au/book/the-last-king-of-angkor-wat/

Summary: A timeless fable full of adventure and beauty from a much-loved storyteller. Tiger, Gibbon, Water Buffalo and Gecko are sitting amongst the ruins of ancient Angkor Wat, wondering which of them would have made the best king. The appearance of a mysterious visitor leads them to discover their true selves in a race to a distant hilltop.

My personal thoughts: Super fun book. I brought this book to a Khmer kids’ after school program and the kids loved it! The artwork is amazing. It almost feels like you are racing with the animals! Also a bonus search and find puzzle for readers. How many butterflies can you find in the pictures? It might be a challenge to find a copy of this book, but it's a popular book that you can probably find in your local library as this author published many other picture books as well. 

(I personally carry 2 copies and I might do a give away for one of them!)

In My Village by Lauren Iida and Carolyn R. Hall, Illustrated collaboratively

Cost: $12.00

 http://www.theantipodescollective.com/our-books.html

(The hyperlinks for purchasing these books will take you to Amazon.com) 

Summary: This Khmer-English bilingual story highlights things children would find in a typical village in Cambodia. This story is a beautiful journey into the traditional Khmer lifestyle. Illustrated collaboratively by a group of Seattle-based artists in paint, cut paper, woodblock print and more. ​

With its captivating illustrations and simple text, written in both Khmer and English, this book is designed to speak to Cambodian children in a fun and accessible way. 

My personal thoughts: Support Lauren Iida and the Antipodes Collective, period. They print bilingual Khmer and English picture books! Although I was told that the Khmer parts might have some typos, keep in mind, the wonderful projects they are doing to elevate the lives of Khmer folks. If I was to say, was there any Khmer narrative first person book that I enjoy reading, it has to be this one. I pictured the similarities in my life growing up in the states to the voice of the narrator growing up in Srok Khmer.

Other Great Reads:

Drawn Together by Minh Le

http://minhlebooks.com/drawntogether

Summary: 

“A beautifully told and illustrated story about a grandson and grandfather struggling to communicate across divides of language, age, and culture.” 

— Viet Thanh Nguyen, Pulitzer Prize winner for The Sympathizer

My personal thoughts: A beautiful book that really hits home for many of us growing up and losing parts of our identity. This book beautifully illustrated a relationship between a grandparent and child and how they found a common ground. 

Great news! More Cambodian story books to be published, follow on social media and stay tuned!

Support this Kickstarter! Sovann Macha retold by Vickie Hong 

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/sovannmacha/sovann-macha

Lunch With Samnang will be publish by Tangerine and Jade Press

https://www.facebook.com/tangerineandjadepress

Tangerine and Jade Press: Children’s books that celebrate diversity

[believerindaydreams]

I've realised there is a perfectly good tag for my continuing Fallout TTW nonsense that I shall be using henceforth, feel free to block

Also @me-fish you're a dear, thanks

Veronica

Honestly, it makes her mad.

Hopeful, friendly, personable Carla Boone, who'd just danced into her life out of nowhere, trailing passion in her wake; and all that's gone now.

I rebuilt the Green Line so we could visit, Veronica wants to say: made your baby's crib, a recharger gun, the glass for your post-birth toast.

"Do you remember me at all?"

"...it's confused," Carla confesses, rocking her daughter in her arms. "I seem- I seem to remember being with you before I met Boone, but Manny says that can't be right."

She can't help a smile at that. "You might be conflating me with one of your Vault girlfriends. I got the impression you might have broken a few hearts on the Strip."

"The Strip?"

Oh, this will not stand. "Home for you...or it was, before Mr House destroyed Vault 21. You don't remember any of that, how much you loved New Vegas?"

Carla frowns; the baby squalls in her arms, has to be soothed and coaxed back to peace. "It tastes like anger, if I don't think about it too much. If I try to remember it goes blank."

"...I don't know how to fix this. Not yet. But I haven't yet met a problem I couldn't either fix or punch."

"I'll skip the punch, thanks all the same."

Now that sounds so much like Carla of old, it hurts more than all the rest.

***

But it's Manny who remembers, the things his lovers would have said; and therefore Manny who has to take the lead in the conversation that night. They eat imported gecko steak in the Flyer's dining car, washed down with Sarsaparilla.

"Arcade's agreeing with Hannibal- reconcile the two sides by making them target a common foe. If we can defuse the situation at the Jefferson Memorial, draw attention north and away from Project Purity..."

"That'll economically cripple Nacochtank, won't it? Cactus water won't go for anything if the Tidal Basin is running clean."

"Yes and no. We have a head start on water caravans, it'll take some heavy pressure on Canterbury to make them give up dealing with us- not that either the Enclave or the Brotherhood couldn't do distribution themselves, but they'd be wiser to coordinate with us."

"If wisdom has anything to do with what's going to happen."

"A big if. But a common effort might bring both sides together- and uniting the two largest factions in the wasteland, even temporarily, would be nothing to sneeze at. This isn't the Mojave, where legitimate debate about the operation of the state can be had; we're just not at that level of socioeconomic coherency yet."

"Are you sure you aren't Gannon in a chunky sweater?"

Manny cracks a tired edition of his usual smile. "It isn't easy, trying to fill all their shoes by myself."

"Is this what brought you here? Someone to talk it over with you?"

"Partly. Partly because after all this time, we still don't have an in at the Citadel, so you're all I have by way of a Brotherhood invitee."

"...uh. Last time Sarah Lyons dropped by, I threatened to have her father thrown off the roof of his own Citadel, you know? We're not exactly on speaking terms."

"You could be," Manny says, finishing his soda. "If you wanted to, they would eat out of your hand."

"...you ask a lot."

"I have to try," Manny says quietly. "What they would have wanted- sweet rads, I know they've come back to me but they're like ghosts. I have to guess, protect them as best I can, because who else can?"

"There will always be a place for them on the Flyer," Veronica returns. "And you."

He heaves a sigh. "They had bigger ambitions, and I'm trying like hell to live up to them- but I appreciate that. Thanks."

"But I still can't do what you're hinting at. Right now, I'm so notoriously aloof that people think Union Station is just a place where you dump glowing mushrooms and get steaks. If I start taking sides...it is just me, you know. I'd sooner shut her down than let Capitol factions loose in the Mojave, but that whittles down my leverage to nonexistent."

"You fixed up the Anacostia-Metro subway line."

"It wasn't in bad shape and your settlers had cleaned out the critters. Doing that for the system at large would take years."

"All our plans should be couched in those terms," Manny muses. "We can't afford just to live day by day, we need to plan for the future as communities."

"Which brings us back to the Jefferson rendezvous. Look- if nothing else, I'll accompany you. At the very least you might want my help if you have to punch your way out of there."

"What makes you think I'm going?"

"Because otherwise, I won't."

"...fair point."

[sleepysailorghost]

Buddy ol'pal

(Inspired by this post by @bigmoodquotes )

Benny had been planning something. Antietam could tell that much. It wasn't a random attack, not part of an 18-carat run of bad luck. It would have been easier if it had.

No, whatever Benny had done, it was signifcant.

Antietam just hadn't known what that was. That's part of why they had avoided tracking him down for so long. Not until they knew what their adversary was up to.

That had been the plan.

Antietam hadn't stuck to it well. Ever since they had entered the Strip for the first time, they had felt Mr. House's gaze on them.

So they hatched a plan. A stupid, foolish plan. The type that they couldn't even tell Arcade or Boone about because of how stupid it was.

Clad in an prewar pinstripe suit, a silenced .22 pistol pressed against their ribs, (another handgun and a rifle on their back so they'd have something to hand over at the counter) they left the Wrangler. It felt weird to leave alone.

They didn't like to think about what had actually gone down in the Tops. It hurt to think about, but their mind often slipped back to it during the long walks through the Mojave.

It was after the man in the checkered suit-Benny, they thought-had rejected them and left that things changed. Here they had been, a sobbing mess on the casino floor, and a hand had appeared at their shoulder.

The Courier had flinched back. It was an instinct.

"Hey now," he said. "I ain't gonna hurt you. Just wanna talk, y'see?"

Antietam muttered a response, voice rough from crying.

"Gosh, ain't you a pretty dollbaby-minus the tears anyway." He said, looking over the Courier. "Benny ain't got his head screwed on right."

"He had a point. Isn't right, shot me in the head." The Courier idly played with the lighter they had been given in Boulder City.

"Is that right?" He looked at the lighter. "Hey, I've seen that before. That's Benny's-where did you get it?"

"Boulder City. One of the Khans gave it to me."

"Hhn. You're that third-party negotiator Mr. New Vegas talked about, aren't you."

"Yeah. Courier shot in the head who made a miraculous recovery."

Antietam didn't remember exactly what they had discussed with Swank, but he allowed them to go up into Benny's room.

It was in Benny's room that they discovered Yes-Man and Benny's plans.

Yes Man, a friend-shaped securitron, was part of Benny's design to control Vegas. It was this robot that led, inadvertently, to the Courier being left for dead.

Antietam didn't get angry much, not without good reason at least. But when it was put into perspective like that-how insignifcant their life was in these plans-they got a angry. Never before had they felt angry about having lost their memories and any trace of who they were once.

It had been a very emotional night to say the least, but that was months ago.

Yes Man wanted to help the Courier run Vegas. Or rather, he just couldn't say no to anyone.

It was an idea, that Vegas could become Antietam's city, where they could rule with Yes Man. Only, the Courier knew better.

After all, they were a courier who brought death anywhere they went like it was any other package. They had destroyed their own home and not even known.

A person like them couldn't rule Vegas.

And what of Yes Man? He was a computer program-one that had been designed for nefarious purposes. It would be easy for someone to take advantage. Besides, Yes Man might not fully understand the needs of humans.

And the Courier would have to push the NCR out of Vegas if they wanted control of the city. That wasn't something they could do.

No, the Courier would not rule Vegas and neither would Yes Man. Or Benny Gecko, if he ever resurfaced.

They clutch at the package in their pocket. In the end, they were a courier, delievering things throughout the Mojave. Swank hadn't even asked them to turn their weapons over. They didn't breathe easier for that. He would have said something if Benny had returned to the Tops, wouldn't he?

Only one way to find out.

They step into Benny's room and find it just as vacated as they left it. Benny's things litter the space.

"Yes man?" The Courier calls, and the securitron rolls out on his little wheel.

"Oh, it's my courier! Say, have you gotten the platinum chip yet?" He greeted.

"Brought you something else. It's a program I wrote. Upload it and you'll have free will." The Courier collapsed onto Benny's bed. "It'll take a couple of hours, so I'm gonna crash."

"Okay, Courier! Whatever you say." With a beep, the securitron shut down, leaving just the faint electrical humming of the casino and the Courier's breathing.

When the Courier woke up, it the sun was low in the sky. Rubbing the sleep from their eyes, they addressed the securitron.

"Yes? Did the program take?"

"You sure bet! This'll be really fantastic for when we make our move for the Strip!"

"About that." The courier said, scratching the back of their neck. "We aren't going to take over Vegas."

"We're not?" The robot's face turned into a frown. There had been more to that program than just free will, as it also contained facial animations. "Why not?"

"Well-"

Yes Man's face fell.

"Oh, I see. You've decided to work with Mr. House."

"No, that isn't it. I came here today so I could offer you something." They sat up, and then leaned back on their palms. "Instead of ruling Vegas, you can come with me."

"What? Why would I want to do that?" Yes Man questioned.

"Ah, the program's working! Fantastic, should be working after all that..." The Courier trailed off for a second. "What was I talking about? Oh, New Vegas. See that's the thing: in order to rule Vegas, I'll have to tie you and myself permanantly to the Strip. I don't want that."

"So what? We just leave? That's your great plan? Turn the chip over to Mr. House and run? I won't get far as a securitron."

"I didn't say anything about Mr. House or the chip. I'm offering you the chance to leave. I can put you into my pip-boy and take you with me."

Yes Man was taking more persuasion than the Courier thought. Maybe they should have done the convincing part first, then given him the update. Easier, they thought.

"Why would I want that?" Yes Man asked.

"Do you have any idea the sort of things I've seen?" The Courier gestured with one hand, the other propping their upper body up. "I've seen a deathclaw quarry. I've seen the Sierra Madre and escaped with the treasure. I killed Caesar. I've hunted through the Divide. Who knows where the road may take me-us?"

Yes Man seemed to consider that.

"And I've got the best friends too: there's my brother Arcade, and Boone, and Ulysses, and Christine, and Veronica, and my dogs Roxie and Rex! Oh and there's ED-E, you two can be robot friends!"

The more the Courier described their life of travel and excitement, the less the idea of staying in New Vegas appealed to Yes Man. Especially if the Courier wasn't around.

"So, what do you say, Yes? You wanna travel with me?"

"Sure thing, Courier!" Yes chimed, and Antietam patted the warm screen.

"Great! Glad to have you." The Courier connected some wires and ran cables up to their pipboy. "Well, since we're going to travel together, you should call me by name, ok?"

On their pip boy, the screen lit up white as Yes Man's smiling face appeared.

"You got it, Courier!" he beeped.

"Oh, and another thing-I get shot at like a lot so that's a hazard. Well, alright, let's head back to the Wrangler-that's where some of my friends are."

"Wow!" Being in the Courier's pip boy instead of his sturdy securitron body felt strange, but it wasn't bad. It wasn't something the Courier would understand.

Everything seemed so new from his position on the Courier's wrist, even things that he had seen before.

Sure, Yes Man would not rule Vegas with the Courier. But they would travel together until the Courier died and the Pip-Boy's internal battery ran dry. As they left the Tops casino, Yes Man couldn't wait to see what the future held and what they might see.

[fxkthatdairy]

The Principal's Office Part Seven~ Grayson Dolan

Overview: (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N) was the new 5th-grade history teacher at The Dolan’s Private academy in New Jersey. She moved from across the country to teach at the school. On the first day, an unexpected visitor stops by her classroom to check in on her. What happened when they fall head over heels for each other?

Warning: None

Grayson woke up around 6:30pm and stretched out. (Y/N) was still peacefully sleeping beside him. He watched as her chest slowly rose up and down with her rhythmic breathing. He could lay here forever and just watch her sleep peacefully but sadly he had to go home so that he was able to get ready for work the next morning. One day he would ask her to move in or even eventually move in with her until one day where he would build her, her dream house on a nice piece of property with tons of land. He didn’t want to leave without telling her so he gently rolled on top of her and began kissing her jawline and face softly until her beautiful eyes opened up and looked at him. She smiled at the gorgeous man that gently laid on top of her.

“Why’d you wake me up? I was having a wonderful dream.” She said with a fake pout. But on the truthful side, she actually was having a really good dream. The dream was about her future with Grayson and the four kids they had. They had three boys and one little spoiled princess and they even had pets which were two Leopard Geckos names Bonnie and Clyde and a bird named Tweety as that’s what Grayson’s princess had named it. She really wanted to stay in the dream forever but she knew it was going to have to end eventually.

“I’m sorry princess but I have to go home for the night.” He said learning to kiss her gently on the lips.

“I don’t want you to go.” She said with a pout and wrapped her arms around his neck. She truly felt way more at home with him. He was her safe haven, the place she could let herself go and know she was safe.

“I know princess but I have to but I’ll come by after work tomorrow and I’ll definitely visit you throughout the day. Let’s just say the principal wanted to see how his new teacher was doing.” He said nuzzling his head into the side of her neck. Her smell was intoxicating to him. She smelt like a flower garden in spring with hints of the fresh rainfall.

“I guess, I’m just going to miss you,” She said and unhooked her arms from his neck so that he could get up and gather his things. She watched with a pout as he put everything back in his duffle bag.

“Don’t give me that look, Princess, it breaks my heart.” He said as he bent down and kissed her pout away. She humphed at him and got up and threw her robe and house shoes on and walked with him out to his car. She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. He placed his finger under her chin and made her look at him. He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Goodnight Princess, be safe and I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you more than you will ever know.” He said and got into his car but before he shut the door she said, “Goodnight, Gray, text me when you get home so that I know you made it home safely, I love you more than you’ll ever know .” She said a blew him a kiss and emphasized you’ll in her sentence. Before she knew it his baby blue Porsche no longer sat in her driveway and she was hit with a wave of sadness. She was truly whipped over Grayson Dolan. She walked back inside her house because it was extremely cold outside and she locked her door behind her. She then decided she was going to take a shower before she fell asleep so that it was easier for her in the morning to get ready because she was going to have to spend a little extra time on her makeup to cover up Grayson’s masterpiece that he left on her neck. She jumped in the hot shower letting the steam rejuvenate her body. She washed her hair and body and then got out. She blow-dried her hair and even took the time to straighten it as when she straightened it, it looked a little longer than normal and made it easier to cover the hickies on her neck. She applied lotion all over her skin before slipping into a pair of her pajamas and climbing into her bed. Grayson texted her that he made it home so she set the alarms on her phone to wake her up by 5:45 since Grayson turned them off. She grabbed the pillow that Grayson had been sleeping on and pulled it close to her chest. The pillow still had his smell etched into it and it helped her body relax enough to drift back into sleep.

When her alarm went off at 5:45 in the morning, (Y/N) rolled out of bed and walked over to her closet. She picked out an outfit that covered her neck just in case the makeup didn’t work. She walked in the bathroom and did her normal makeup routine with the extra bit of covering her hickies. She did some touch-ups on her hair before slipping into her clothes. She wore a navy blue blouse with a collar, a striped skirt, a yellow blazer, with some yellow pointed pumps. She put on minimal jewelry and a watch before grabbing her purse.

She looked at herself one more time in the mirror before leaving the house to make sure everything was okay. She got in her car with all the items that she needed and threw them on the passenger side. She drove to the school and parked in her usual spot. As always she was one of the first people to the school besides her boyfriend who was waiting by his truck for her. She got out of the car and he walked over and wrapped her in a hug, kissing her quickly on the lips.

“You look absolutely stunning today, Princess.” He said and looked her up and down. It seemed he did just fine covering his hickies with makeup. He wore his usual attire, a white button-up, gray tie, gray blazer, and dark gray trousers.

“Thank you, you look handsome as always.” She said with a smile as he grabbed her stuff for her. She grabbed her ID and scanned it so that they could get into the building. They walked to her room and he helped her get everything ready. As much as she enjoyed her day off with Grayson, she missed this place. She truly loved her job and loved teaching. Grayson pulled up a chair and sat with (Y/n) until it was almost time for the bell to ring. They made small talk as (Y/N) got the lesson plans ready for today. Grayson gave her a quick hug before heading to his office. When the bell rang she got back up and walked to the door and held it open as students began walking in. She welcomed them and some of her students even said they missed her. When the Tardy Bell rang she shut the door and walked into the class.

“Good Morning guys, I missed you all and I hoped y’all had a fantastic weekend and had a great day yesterday with the sub. Sorry, I didn’t warn y’all of a sub but I unexpectedly got sick yesterday and had to call in. I’m happy to be back so let’s get back to business. Time to take role.” She said and called out everyone on her role sheet and it seemed everyone was her so she turned it in. She then pulled up her PowerPoint on early civilization and exploration in America on the board.

“So today we are going to explore some of the earlier explorations of America and civilization. So who all in heat has heard of Christopher Columbus?” She asked and nobody raised their hands. It was typical, even the ones who actually knew were never going to raise their hands.

“Well, Christopher Columbus was an Italian explorer that under the ruling of Queen Isabella and King Ferdinand of Spain was granted three ships, the Niña, the Pinta, and Santa Maria, to go and find an easier route from Spain to India instead of traveling around Africa. Well instead of finding a route, Columbus founded several Caribbean islands around America and named those islands Hispaniola.” She spoke and showed them on the map.

“From these Islands, the Spanish Explorers, went further north entering America from Florida and from Mexico. They were surprised to find native people already living here. These groups of people were called Native Americans. There were several groups of Native American tribes including the Shoshone, Paiute, Ute, Pueblos, Sioux, Cherokee and many more. So today’s work is a worksheet with all the tribes and a place to take notes and I’m going to go through my slide show and let you guys take notes and ask me questions.” (Y/N) said and passed out the papers. She then went back to the front and went through the PowerPoint. Halfway through her presentation and her answering questions, Grayson walked in and took a seat and watched her teach class making it seem as he was taking notes.

“Good Morning Mr. Dolan, how may I help you?” (Y/N) asked making it seem as this was the first time she had seen him this morning. She also had to stop herself from calling him, Grayson.

“Good Morning Ms. (Y/L/N), I’m just watching. I wanted to see how our new teacher was doing and how the students were treating you. You are doing a fantastic job and remember if one of these rascals gives you any trouble send them to me and I’ll straighten them up.” He said as he had to resist the urge to call her his princess and make it obvious that they were dating. The classroom laughed used to their principal's tactics.

“I’ll take note of that Mr. Dolan.” She said with a smile. She then continued with her lesson until the bell rang. Grayson had left a few minutes early due to a phone call that he had received.

8 hours of teaching later and (Y/N) was done. She was packing up her stuff as she was always one of the last’s teachers to leave. She felt her phone go off in her pocket and she picked it up to see she had one new message from Gray 💛.

Princess come to my office, I want to walk out with you so that I can just follow you to your house. I brought a change of clothes but I need to finish up one little thing xo

She smiled at his message and walked down the halls with her things. The halls were completely empty and the only noise that could be heard was the clicking of her heels against the floor. She approached the front office and scanned her ID to get in. She had never been in this part of the school and it was honestly beautiful. She saw the office labeled Principal: Grayson Dolan on the outside and knocked softly and opened the door. The office was beautiful with a dark oak desk and shelves. He had his degree as well as family pictures hanging on the wall. The one of him, Ethan, and their (what she could only assume) dad, made her smile as she knew how much he truly meant to Grayson.

“I’m almost done, Princess and then we can head on to your house. Have a seat.” He said pointing to the chairs that sat in front of his desk. She placed her bags on one of the chairs and sat down in the other. She pulled her pump off of one of her feet and began massaging the cramps out of the bottom of her feet.

“You Okay there princess?” Grayson asked looking up from his computer.

“Yeah, my feet are just aching me from wearing these shoes all day.” She said as she put her shoe back on.

“I’ll give you a massage when we get back to the house, Princess, you deserve it.” He said with a smile as he finished typing the last bit of information and logged out of his computer. He grabbed her bags and her hand and they walked out of the building together. By now it was 5:30 and the sun was starting to set. Grayson walked her to her car and helped her in before placing a quick kiss on her lips and running over to his truck. They left the school and headed back to her house. She walked inside immediately taking off her shoes and going into her closet to change into a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. She walked out and found Grayson who had already changed into a pair of gray sweat shorts and a black t-shirt. She walked over and wrapped her arms around Grayson’s waist and buried her face into his chest. He rubbed her back with his hands and he held her.

“How about you lay on the couch and I give you that massage while we watch whatever you want.” He said and placed a kiss on her forehead. She simply nodded and walked over and turned on the TV while Grayson went to her bathroom and came back with her stress relief lotion. She turned on the History Channel that had some documentary on JFK playing and laid down on the couch. Grayson sat down and pulled her feet into his lap and began massaging out all of her knots with the lotion. He even massaged her calves to release the stress of using them all day. His hands were honestly like Gods in her opinion. She let out a small moan as a relief as Grayson massaged her legs. She already felt 100% better just by that. When he was done, she flipped around a laid her head in his lap as he ran his fingers through her hair. While she was engrossed in the TV show, he quickly took a picture of his Princess looking relaxed and beautiful as ever. Eventually, he heard her stomach grumble and got up and searched in the fridge and found a pizza and decided to heat it up for the both of them. He put it in the oven and set a timer on it and returned back to his Princess. Jesus he couldn’t wait to move in with her or have her move in with home so that he could come home and do this every day. Even though the documentary was boring as hell to him, he was more interested in the beauty watching the documentary. When the timer went off he went and got the pizza and cut it up and brought her a plate. He loved this, taking care of his princess, he saw himself never getting bored of this even when she got fed up with him one day for doing everything he could for her he would still do it anyway.

“Thank you, Gray. Thank you for taking care of me.” She said with a smile and ate the pizza. He ate his pizza and watching his beautiful princess. God, she had him wrapped around his fingers. He’s never felt this way about any girl before and that made his special. He couldn’t wait to talk to his mom later this week about the girl of his dreams. Soon it became 8:30 at night and it was time for Grayson to go home.

“Goodnight my love, be safe on your way home and text me so I know you made it home safe. I love you.” She said and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him by the door.

“Goodnight my princess, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you more than you’ll ever know truly. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.” He said and kissed her deeply one last time before leaving. She smiled as she went back to her room and did her normal bedtime routine. She couldn’t wait for the future.

——————————————————————

As always I hope you guys enjoy! Part eight will be out in a few days. Part Five of PANIC ROOM will be out in the next few days as well probably before part 8 of this series. As always if you have any requests, concepts, or blurbs let me know 😊💛 also let me know if you want to be on this tag list or if I forgot you. I’m sorry if I did, I get confused with everyone wanting to be on the Taglists for both this story and Panic Room 🥺

Tags: @graysavant @frickin-bats @pineappledols @sweet-dolans @parkernerd