#i mean the bookkeeper just said a few helpful things on the phone to the boss like she should hire a senior accountant

[fazcinatingblog]

2022 is the year my boss is all no nonsense and say the wrong thing and you're out

[atlafan]

Costumes Galore - One Shot

a/n: this one was based off a few asked for my Halloween themed one shot requests. A lot of you wanted to something around a costume rental store, so I just made Harry the owner of that store! Feedback and reblogs are helpful, hope you enjoy! (not proofread) 

Warnings: pining, smut, friends to lovers

Words: 8.7K

Don’t ask him how, but Harry is the owner of a costume rental shop. He was a business major in university, and with some luck and patience, he was able to take over the very shop he worked in as a teenager. Halloween was his busiest season, of course, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t doing well year round. He would give deals to the local schools and community theaters, and people who dressed as characters for parties would come see him. So, needless to say, business was steady. He often had big sales right after Halloween, and people would come in and clean him out.

Preparing for Halloween was his favorite thing to do. As soon as it was September 1st, he would transform his shop, pulling out tons of decorations, and putting out different bowls of candy. He liked making his customers happy, and everyone usually left satisfied. His changing rooms were comfortable and spotless, and he even set up backdrops in the lounge area for people to take Halloween pictures of their kids. People would come in to do that all year to save time and money. He was a smart business man. Harry did most of the work himself, he had a couple of teenagers that worked for him after school, but other than that it was all him. He didn’t mind, it gave him the control he needed over his shop, and he just didn’t have the money to pay someone for full-time help. He was only entering the fourth year of owning the place, after all.

Harry enjoyed the small traditions the downtown area had. Every year on October 30th, all of the shops would open their doors so kids could come trick or treat. It was a great way to give out pamphlets and coupons, while also getting to know the people that lived in the area. He loved kids, so when Harry was told about the tradition by his shop neighbor he got right on it, splurging for the king sized candy bars.

It was getting to be that time of year again, just about the end of September, his shop was looking good, and the Halloween crowds had slowly been trickling in and out. He was at the register when he heard the chime of the bell he keeps above the door to signal someone was coming in. It was a beautiful young woman, and she made Harry’s mouth run dry.

“Hello.” She says shyly as she walks up to the counter.

“Hi.” He swallows, and then smiles. “May I help you find something? Picking a costume up?” He moves to walk into the back door to see what reservations he had left for the day, but she stops him.

“No, um, I was wondering, actually, if you were hiring seasonally? I’m a grad student at the local university, and I could really use the extra cash before the holidays approach.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting such a blunt and honest answer. “Well, I usually only hire high school students…it’s a bit easier to pay them under the table.”

“I don’t mind! I have another job at the university I get a pay stub for and all that, I really just need the extra money for the season. If you’re not hiring it’s okay, I can check with the other shops, I just figured since this is a costume shop you’d be getting really busy soon.”

“You figured correctly.” He sighs. “Do you have much experience in retail?”

“Oh, sure, tons! I worked in a grocery store when I was a teenager, so I know how to work a register, and then in undergrad I worked at an Old Navy, so I know how to fold clothes properly and check inventory.” She pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. “Here’s my resume, not the most professional way of showing it, but I brought it nonetheless.” She unfolds it and slides it on the counter towards him.

Harry takes it and furrows his brows as he reads it over. Seems like she was in her first year of grad school, but had graduated from her undergrad a couple of years ago. Her undergraduate degree was in social work, and it looks like she had been working in an office for a couple of years. Now she was going for a graduate degree in school counseling. She had plenty of experience, that wasn’t his worry, he just wasn’t sure he would be able to properly compensate her.

“My busiest hours during the season tend to be between 3 and 7PM, and then I’m swamped on Saturdays. How many hours a week do you think you could work?”

Her features soften as she perks up from his question.

“I’m honestly free by four most days, and Saturdays are no problem. Well, as long as I don’t have to be up at the crack of dawn.” She chuckles. “I’m no good early in the morning. I could do Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday if that works for you?”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay you more than ten dollars an hour, and you’d need to keep track of things on your own. I expect the honor system too, no trying to stiff me.”

“That’s perfect!” She was doing the math in her head. “Do you close right at seven? Would I stay after to close up?”

“Probably would need you here until eight. Saturday I’m open eleven to five, would need you here ten to six for that.”

She furrows her brows as she thinks about it. That would roughly come to about twenty hours a week, which was exactly what she was looking for. Then that would be $200 extra in her pocket a week, or $400 if he decides to pay her bi-weekly, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a dime of it coming out for taxes.

“Well, uh…”, she squints at his nametag, “Harry, I think we have a deal.” She smiles and extends her hand for him to shake. He takes it gently and smiles at her. “When can I start?”

“Why don’t you come in this Saturday around 9:30? I can go over everything with you without have to rush. There’s a little kitchen in the back and all that so feel free to leave food here if you feel like packing a lunch or snacks. I also keep a lot of snacks around.”

“Works for me.” She shrugs. “If you’re here until eight most days, what time do you usually open?”

“Around ten, I get here for nine.”

“Those are long days.”

“I don’t mind it, there’s always a lot to do.��� It’s quiet between them for a moment.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. See you Saturday!” She beams.

“Wait, uh, the door will be locked when you get here, and I can’t just give you a key, barely know you.” He chuckles. “But here.” He grabs a business card and writes his cell phone number on it. “Just text me when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”

“Perfect.” She looks at the card. “Thanks, Mr. Styles.”

“Stick with Harry, we don’t need to be so formal.”

“Alright, thanks, Harry.”

Out the door she goes feeling way better than when she walked in. He wondered how close in age they might be, she had to be around the same age as him, if not only a year or so younger. It would be nice working with someone he could actually talk to. He likes the teenagers, but sometimes he just had no idea what they were talking about.

//

Saturday morning Y/N isn’t sure what to wear. Harry hadn’t said anything about a uniform, so she decides on a pair of khakis and a black polo to at least look the part of a retail worker. She tucks the shirt in to look professional, and to make sure she looked cute. She puts her hair up in a ponytail, and out the door she goes. She grabs a coffee from the shop across from Harry’s, and takes out her phone to text him.

Y/N: Good morning, Harry! It’s Y/N, I’m outside the shop 😊

She sips her warm drink as she waits for him to appear in the windows. She smiles as she sees him walking up, and he opens the door for her.

“Morning, Y/N.” He smiles, voice still a little gravelly from sleep. It makes her blush.

“Morning.” She nods as she walks in. “Oh…I should have asked you if you wanted a coffee.” She frowns at herself. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries, had mine a little while ago. I should’ve asked you if you wanted anything.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways…”, he looks her up and down, “don’t feel like you need to dress so…well, I should have texted you about attire. Um, you can wear pretty much whatever you want. I just ask if you wear jeans that they’re not ripped, and if you wear leggings make sure you’re bum is covered. You never know what kind of old creeps might be coming in here to steal glances.” She nods at him and follows him behind the register and into the back room. “So this is where I keep reserved costumes. People will call ahead sometimes with their measurements and what they need.” He opens another door that leads into a breakroom. It was small kitchen with a slop sink, decent sized fridge, microwave, blender, toaster, and hot plate on the counters.

“I think you have every appliance known to man.” She laughs.

“Well, I can’t exactly have an oven in here, so I stalked up on other things. There’s some small pots if you feel like having pasta, that’s why I have the hot plate, you just need to remember to unplug it when you’re done. Turns out a lot of clothes are flammable, go figure.” His jokes makes her giggle, and he likes the sound of it. “And then through this door is the office. I have some lockers in here so you can hang your coat up, or put a bag away. Bring a lock if you feel like it, but I promise not to steal your things if you promise not to steal mine.”

“Promise.” She nods. “Where are the bathrooms?”

“In the back of the store along with the dressing rooms. We’ll get there in a moment. Every night I have a cleaning crew come in to make sure everything is spick and span, but accidents happen during the day sometimes so it’s on us to clean that up when it occurs.”

“No problem there. I used to clean the bathrooms at the grocery store all the time. Not my favorite thing to do, but I’m no stranger to it.”

He nods and then leads her back out to the register. He explains how he bookkeeps, and how important it is to save every receipt. Then he takes out what looks like a magazine that explains all of the types of costumes and accessories he keeps. He essentially had the shop on a grid system so everything was easy to find. She would need to learn this so she could properly help the customers. Then he leads her to the back of the store, shows her the dressings rooms and bathrooms, and then to the very back room where all of the storage was.

“Holy shit.” She says to herself. “You could get lost in here.” She swallows.

“You shouldn’t need to come back here too much. I usually have what people need out front, but sometimes you may need to snag some things from here. Mostly shoes.” He takes her back into the main area and into the office so they can sit. “I have cameras just about everywhere. Kids can sometimes pocket the costume jewelry. I have security codes for the doors as well, but I’ll always be here before you, so you won’t ever have to open, or close for that matter.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your class schedule like?”

“I have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and then on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays I go to a middle school for my practicum hours. I’m hoping to become an adjustment counselor, you know, helping students with more serious issues.”

“At the middle school level no less, wow.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.” She smiles.

“You said you had a job at the university too, how do you have the time for that?”

“Oh, I get a stipend as a TA.” She shrugs. “The classes I actually take are online, so I have plenty of time. This is just for the season anyways, so it’s fine.”

“Right.” He opens his desk drawer and slides a nametag towards her. “There you are, no you’re a proper employee.”

“Thank you.” She takes it and puts it on, her tongue slightly peeking out as she does so. “So, how do I get paid? Are you gonna sneak me an envelope every week?” She chuckles.

“That’s the plan, yeah. The pay period will be like Saturday to Saturday, so I’ll pay you on Fridays, sound good?”

“Sounds great! Thank you again. I’ve been budgeting just fine and making things work, but things add up during the holidays: dinners, gifts, parties, all that stuff, and I just wanted to have some extra cushion.”

“I think that’s really smart. It’s nice to see you don’t mind working hard.”

“How did you come to own a costume shop?”

“Worked here as a teenager, so after uni the old man was selling it and he took a chance on me. Been running it for four years now.”

“Shit, you’re really young to be doing all of this.” She looks at him wide eyed. “I still have to call my mom to ask her if I should separate my delicates from the rest of my wash, and here you are…owning and running a business.”  

Harry swallows, and nods at her.

“Um, let me show you how the register works, and then we can open up.”

They get up and go back out front. He shows her the prices for everything that he keeps on a laminated sheet of paper. She listens to him intently, nodding along and taking mental notes.

//

It was a little slow in the beginning, so Harry has Y/N put away some costumes that people left in the dressing rooms. A small rush comes in right at noon, and they work together to get everyone settled.

“No, I wanna be Batman!” Y/N hears a small girl whale out at her father.

“But you’d look so pretty as Cinderella, honey.” He pleads with his daughter.

“Pardon me.” Y/N says. “We have tons of Batman costumes in girls sizes.” She smiles.

“You do?” He asks her.

“Sure! Lots of girls like dressing up like super heroes, and their costumes cover up a lot more, so it’s much more practical. She’ll stay warm and won’t trip over a long dress.” She leads them over to the area. “And she’ll still look plenty cute.”

“Alright.” He sighs with defeat. “Batman it is.”

“Yay!” The little girl exclaims as she snatches a costume off the rack.

Y/N looks over and sees that Harry was watching the interaction. He gives her a thumbs up, and goes back to the register. They take their lunch breaks at different times, and when the end of the day comes she lingers while he checks everything over at his desk.

“You can go, Y/N. Good first day.”

“I…well, this is sort of embarrassing, but I walked here because I live close by, but it’s raining…”

“Oh…you need a ride?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Her face flushes. “I can order an uber if you-“

“I don’t mind.” He gives her a soft smile. “Sit on the couch if you like, I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.”

She nods and does as he says. She scrolls through her apps on her phone while she waits for him. She hears him sigh, and he knuckles at his eyes before standing up.

“Alright, let’s go. Where do you live?”

“Just over at The Ledges.”

“No shit? I live there too.”

“Seriously?!” She stands. “Okay, now I don’t feel bad.” She chuckles.

“No need to feel bad regardless.” He puts his coat on, grabs his keys, and they head out. He double checks that the doors are locked, and they make their way to his car. He even opens the door for her. “What building are you in?”

“Five, you?”

“Three. Got a roommate or anything?”

“Yeah, I live with a girl in the same program as me. She’s nice enough, we’re still getting to know each other, but we like a lot of the same movies and music, so it’s been easy to hang out when we have time. What about you?” She tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Got a roommate?”

“Nope.” He says proudly. “Can finally afford to live on my own, which has been nice.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely, though?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “Most of my time is spent at the shop talking to people all day, so I don’t really mind the quiet once I’m home.”

“Not even a pet to keep you company?”

“I’ve just learned to take care of myself properly, I don’t think I’m quite ready to keep another thing alive.” She laughs at that and it makes him smile.

“You’re really funny, you know that?” He pulls up to her building once he’s turned into the complex. “Thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it. I definitely would have caught a cold if I walked in that rain.”

“Anytime, seriously, don’t be afraid to ask.”

She nods and gets out. He makes sure she’s inside before making the turn to his own building.

//

Harry drove Y/N home most evenings. Her help was the best he’s had in a long time, maybe he could afford to hire her on like a regular employee…only if she wanted. She was personable with the customers, and he noticed she’d pick an accessory to wear during all of her shifts to get into the Halloween spirit. One day it was a tiara and a sash, another day it was cat ears, and another it was devil’s horns. Harry would mostly wear graphic tees with old movie posters on them. She thought it was cute. Y/N noticed how well Harry was with the customers too. The kids adored him, so it seemed.

It really didn’t take much for Y/N to develop a crush on Harry. From the moment she walked into his shop she thought he was handsome, but as she got to know him she realized his personality was just her type. She tried to be sneaky decipher whether he was seeing someone or not. There were no pictures of girls on his desk, other than a family photo of him, his mother, and sister. Harry wore a lot of rings, but nothing that screamed he was in a relationship or married. Surely he would mentioned it by now if he was, right? She even got a glimpse at his lock screen on his phone, and all it was, was a picture of a sunflower.

“Just ask him out, Y/N.” Her roommate, Ronnie, says to her one evening over wine and popcorn as they watch The Addams Family. “What do you have to lose?”

“My job.”

“You’re a seasonal employee. As soon as Halloween hits, you’re done there.”

“Not true, he asked me to stay through November. He has sales throughout November so people can buy costumes at a discount. Also, a ton of people come to get fitted for Santa costumes, so I’ll be there a bit longer than anticipated.” She takes a sip from her glass. “I think that if he liked me he would have made a move.”

“He could be thinking the exact same thing about you! And from what you’ve told me, he seems either too shy or too respectful to do something like that. I mean, you work for him, he wouldn’t want you to think he was harassing you.”

“Hm, I never thought of it like that.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe…maybe I could ask him to dinner one night after work. That wouldn’t be totally weird, would it? He drives me home anyways…”

“I think that’s a great idea. Totally casual, off the cuff.”

“Exactly, like, smooth…cool.” She takes a bite of some popcorn. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Y/N, you wrangle middle school kids for half the week, asking a guy out should be a cakewalk.”

//

Saturday Y/N decides to wear a sweater dress over some leggings, and goes with a small witch’s hat that’s on a headband to add some flare to her look. Harry had given her a key since he trusted her, so she lets herself in. She goes right to the back to go say hello. Harry was in the kitchen finishing up his coffee.

“Morning.” He says to her.

“Morning.” She takes a deep breath. “Um, do you have plans tonight, like, after work?”

He furrows his brows as he thinks about it, taking one final sip of his coffee before rinsing his mug in the sink.

“Don’t think so, why?” He almost wished he had made something up. It was sort of lame to not have plans on a Saturday night, wasn’t it?

“Well, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner…” His eyes grow wide at her, so she back-peddles. “You know, as a thank you for being so great to me, and driving me home and stuff.”

“You…you don’t have to thank me for anything, Y/N. You’ve been the best temp I’ve ever hired.” He watches as she looks down at her feet. “But, um, dinner sounds good either way.”

“Really?” She perks up as she makes eye contact once again.

“Yeah, where were you thinking?”

“Nowhere special…do you like Mexican? We could go to Chipotle…” It sounded awful leaving her lips, but it was all she could really afford at the moment.

“I love it there, that sounds good.”

“Great.” She smiles and walks over to the coffee maker to pour herself some. She slips around him to get the creamer out of the fridge. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Harry was distracted all day. Y/N rarely wore dresses to work. Had she dressed up in hopes they’d be going out together later that evening. He looks down at himself, and he’s thankful he decided on a black jumper. Was this a date, or was this to be a casual dinner between two people who work together? He really couldn’t be sure. He thought Y/N was insanely attractive, she was lovely inside and out, but he was her boss so that made things a little…sticky for him. She was around the same age as him, so it wouldn’t be weird if they went out, and she was the one to initiate dinner. So it’s not like he was using any sort of position of power over her.

Around lunch time a boy that works at the coffee shop from across the street comes in. Harry greets him, and he says he’s looking for Y/N.

“She’s in the back on her break.” Harry says. “Do you want me to get her?”

“That’d be great.” The boy smiles.

“Hey, Y/N? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh?” She swallows the bite of veggie wrap and stands up to see who it is. “Hey, Charlie.” She smiles.

“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “I…I snagged you some of those chocolate chip cookie squares you like so much.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” She comes from around the counter to hug him. “That is so sweet, thank you.”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he tries not to pay attention. He was looking over receipts at the register, but he couldn’t help but be a little nosey.

“No problem.” He hands her the small bag. “Um, I know it’s last minute, but would you wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you to ask, but I actually already have dinner plans tonight, so I can’t.” She gives him a soft smile.

“Alright, another time, maybe?”

“Sure.” She nods, and then he makes his way out. She goes back behind the counter. “Harry, you have to try one of these, they’re so good, nice and chewy. I get them all the time.”

“Clearly.” He reaches into the bag to take one out. “You know, if you wanted to go out with him…you could have…”

“Why would I break our date that I literally just asked you to this morning to go out with someone else?” Ah, so it was a date, he thinks to himself as he bites off a piece of the cookie. “Good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Charlie’s nice enough, but I don’t like him like that.”

Harry leaves the conversation as that when she goes back to finish her lunch. Did she like him like that? Was that it? Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.

//

The ride to Chipotle is comfortably quiet, the radio could be heard just over the rumble of the streets. Y/N bumps Harry with her hip when he tries to pay for their food, shoving her card into the chip insert. She told him to go grab a table in a snappy way that made him smirk, but he listened to her regardless. He finds a quieter table for two and sets their things down. She comes over with some napkins and sits down.

“You really didn’t have to pay for me.” He says.

“Try again.”

“Thank you.” He sighs.

“Much better.” She smirks and dives into her burrito bowl. “I see you went with the tacos, those are my second favorite.”

“I love tacos, obsessed with them really. I must make them for dinner twice a week.”

“Really?” She asks with a giggle.

“Only because I usually have leftovers. I try to meal prep and stuff like that.”

“Same here! Every Sunday I go to the market, and cook up a storm when I get back. Then it’s all done, and you don’t have to worry.”

“Exactly.” He smiles and takes a bite of his food. It was a little messy, but she didn’t seem to mind. “So, what made you wanna grab a bite tonight?”

She nearly chokes on her food, and she takes a sip of her water.

“Um…I…well…” She stops talking and just looks at him. “I just thought it might be nice to do something outside of work for a change. It’s nice sharing a meal with someone, you know?”

He nods at her and takes another bite of his food. He asks her questions about school, and how things were going balancing working at a middle school and being a TA. She explains that she’s very organized, so she hasn’t been terribly stressed. She was looking forward to her school’s winter break so she could just work at the middle school and not teach at the same time. They had lost track of time, sitting there for over an hour talking. He drives her to her building, and she lingers in his car for a moment.

“That was fun.” She says to him.

“Yeah…thanks again for paying.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Do…do you have plans on Halloween?”

“Aren’t we doing that trick or treat thing at the shop?”

“That’s the evening before.”

“Oh, right! Here I am telling you I’m organized and I can’t get my days straight.” She takes her phone out to look at her calendar. “I think Ronnie and I were planning to put a bowl of candy out in the hallway and watch movies…why?”

“Well, I have a party to go to…my mate Niall throws a Halloween party every year…would you like to come with me?”

Her eyes widen, and he feels like he’s made a mistake. Had he misinterpreted everything?

“That’s only a week away, where on earth am I going to get a costume on such short notice?” She looks at him seriously, and then she laughs.

“Good fucking thing I own a costume shop, or you’d be shit out of luck.” He laughs. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and leans over the console to give him a peck on the cheek. “See you Monday.” She gets out of the car, tummy full of butterflies, and goes inside her building.

//

Ronnie was thrilled for Y/N’s upcoming date, and didn’t mind her breaking her roommate date at all. When Monday rolls around, Y/N can’t wait to see Harry. He was running around when she got in, and he basically yelled at her to get busy. He texted her Sunday night to warn her that the week of Halloween was usually wild with last minute costume buyers. The two of them run around, and don’t close up until nearly nine.

“I can come in tomorrow and Thursday if you need me to.” She tells him as they walk to his car.

“I don’t want you to be stressed out.”

“I won’t be! I’ll be stressed knowing you’re doing all of that alone. Please, you don’t even need to pay me.”

“Y/N.” He chuckles as he drives her home. “Don’t be silly, I’ll pay you. You can come in if you need the extra hours.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Have you already decided on your costume?”

“I think while we’re at the store it would be fun to dress up as a witches?”

“Definitely, and for the party?”

“You…you wanna dress as a pair for that?”

“Well, we’re going as a pair, so I thought that would be fun…but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.” He pulls up to her building and he turns to face her. “Niall’s dressing like Barney from the Flintstone’s and his girlfriend is gonna dress up like Betty, so I was wondering how you’d feel if we dressed like Fred and Wilma…”

“Do you have those costumes at the shop?”

“Yeah, in the back.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Really? Not too cliché?”

“Not at all, I think it could be fun.”

“Great, I can pull everything out for you tomorrow, and you can tell me how it all fits.”

//

It was a busy week, but worth it to see all of the little kids come by the shop. Y/N and Harry made quite the pair of witches. He had invited her back to his place for a movie after everything was all said and done. Tomorrow would be another busy day with the really last minute people, but he wasn’t worried about it.

“Right, so, make yourself at home. I’m just gonna get us some snacks. Can I get you anything to drink?” He says to her as he leads her inside his flat. “I’ve got water, soda, seltzer water…”

“Anything with alcohol in it?” She chuckles. “Long week, you know?”

“Oh, sure! I’ve got these pumpkin ciders you might like, they’re really good.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, go sit.” He smiles, and she goes to make herself comfortable on his couch.

Her eyes scan over his living area, it was nicely decorated. He had some decals in the windows for Halloween, little black cats and pumpkins, it was cute. He comes in shortly with some cheese and crackers, and a couple of ciders.

“I threw some pizza rolls into the oven, thought this could hold us over for now.” He says as he sits.

“Good thinking, thank you. This is a nice place, just a one bedroom?”

“Mhm.” He smiles. “I like living here a lot, it’s the perfect location if I need to get to the shop quick.” They each take a sip of the cider as he grabs the TV remote. “You like it?”

“Yeah! It’s delicious. So, what are we watching?”

“How do you feel about Beetlejoice?”

“It’s one of my all-time favorites.”

“Thank god.” He says with relief. “It’s one of my favorites too. I don’t love super scary movies, but ones like these are fun.”

“I’m the same way. I don’t get that thrill other people do from being scared.”

He queues up the movie and presses play. She takes her sneakers off so she can sit with her feet under her, and he likes that she’s able to get so comfortable. He hears the ding from his oven timer and goes to retrieve the pizza rolls.

“They’re really hot, gotta let them sit. I don’t want you to bun yourself.” He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch. “Here, you look cold.” She smiles and takes the blanket from him, draping it over her legs. “Let me know when you want a refill too.”

“I will, thank you, Harry.”

He sits back on the couch and pops a cracker into his mouth. This was normal behavior him. He often doted on her in the shop. If she fell asleep at the table during her lunch break she’d miraculously wake up on the couch in the office, or with a blanket draped over her shoulders and the lights dimmed. He knew how tired she had to be, working so much. She didn’t mind it one bit. She was used to taking care of herself, it was sort of nice to let someone else take a turn.

“We can share if you want.” She speaks up as she sees him cross his arms over his body. “If you’re cold too.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s your blanket.” She chuckles, and places some of it over his legs. “There, all cozy.”

They devour the pizza rolls, and drink three cider’s each during the movie. They laugh at the funny parts, and are quiet during the more serious parts. She looks away a couple of times, and even squeezes his hand during one of the scarier scenes. They didn’t touch other than that, though. He didn’t want to make things awkward before the party.

“Oh, I love this part at the end with the football team.” She giggles and finishes her last drink. “I’m really glad we did this tonight.” She turns her body to look at him.

“Me too.” He stands up, and starts cleaning everything up. She follows him into the kitchen with the empty cans. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” She tosses them in the recycling bin he has next to the trash.

“I can walk you home if you want.”

“That’s okay, I think I can make it.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry.”

“Will you…at least text me when you get back?”

“Sure.” She nods and gets her shoes and jacket on. He walks her to his door with his hands in his pockets.

“I can pick you up before work tomorrow if you like.”

“That I’ll definitely take you up on. It’s gonna be cold tomorrow, I think.” She throws her arms around him and kisses his cheek quickly. “Thanks for a nice night.”

“Bye.”

He sighs as she leaves, and sighs heavier as she makes her way out of the building. She gets inside her own flat and tells Ronnie everything.

“Shit! I forgot to text him!”

Y/N: so sorry, I got in like 10 min ago

Harry: no worries, glad you got in safe

Y/N: thanks again for a really nice night…you’re fun to watch movies with

Harry: you’re welcome, and so are you

“God, why does he have to be so sweet?”

“So, he really didn’t make any moves?”

“No.” She sighs. “We shared a blanket, but that was about it, and I was too nervous to do more than to touch his hand a couple of times.” She groans and sits down on the couch with a huff. “Like…are we dating? Just friends? I’d love to know.”

“You should ask him.”

“You can’t just ask that sort of thing!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s awkward. Ugh, I just had to go work for someone like him. Why couldn’t it have been some old lady?”

//

The work day goes by like normal. Y/N uses ladies room to get into her Wilma costume. Harry had given her an orange wig for the hair, and she got it up into a decent enough bun. The dress was really cute on her figure, and she felt good about it. She’d be cold, but only for the couple of minutes she’d be outside. Harry was waiting for her in the main area with his Fred costume. He was not wearing a wig.

“I’m pretty sure Fred Flinstone has black hair.” She runs a hand through his curls and his face flushes. “But I suppose this will do.”

“You look great, Y/N.”

“You think so?” She does an innocent twirl. “Not too skimpy?”

“Not at all.” He smiles.

They drive to Niall’s, and Y/N is welcome with open arms from the second they walk in. Everyone at the party had great costumes, and she was happy her and Harry went all out. There was music playing, plenty of snacks and drinks, and even a few games. People were playing beer-pong in the kitchen, others were playing some card games. There were some people dancing in the living area. Y/N wondered if some other grad students were mixed into the bunch.

“Want something to drink?” Harry asks her and she nods yes. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the drink cart in the kitchen. He looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“Vodka tonic, please.”

“Coming right up.” He makes two drinks, and hands her one. “Let me know if It’s too strong.”

“Mm.” She takes a sip. “It’s perfect.”

Much to her surprise, Harry keeps an arm around her shoulders for most of the night as they mingled with his friends. It was loose around her, but he was making it pretty clear to anyone else looking at them that she was spoken for. They didn’t drink too much, enough to have a healthy buzz, but not so much that Harry wouldn’t be able to drive later.

“Are you having fun?” He says into her ear. She looks up at him and nods yes. He smiles and goes back to the conversation he was having with Niall.

Y/N liked Harry’s friends. They were all really nice, and did their best to include her in the chit chat. It was a fun night. A little after midnight they decide to call it quits, and head out. Y/N takes the wig off and shakes her hair out the second they’re in the car.

“Man, that thing was itchy.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks at him. “What?” He was already looking at her.

“You’re…you’re just so…” He reaches for her and cups her cheeks in his large hands. They were barely an inch apart, and she could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Please.” She nods slightly, and then he does it.

His lips slot between hers, and her eyes flutter closed. His lips were soft, and he tasted like the mint from the gum he was chewing. Her hands move to the collar of his costume and she tugs him closer to her. He pulls away just as she was opening her mouth a little more, her lips moving towards him. His forehead presses to her.

“Fuck, I…I’ve wanted to do that since the day you walked into the shop, but-“

“Do you wanna go back to my place?”

He nods yes, and throws the car in drive, speeding to their complex. His hand rests on her thigh, squeezing it occasionally, reminding her that he was there and this was happening. He parks in one of the free spaces in front of her building, and gets out of the car. He jogs around the other side and opens her door for her. The air was cold, but the heat radiating between the two of them was scorching. He helps her out of the car, and his lips are on hers again. They shuffle to the main entrance, and she keys in. He’s about to push her up against the wall, but she pushes on his chest.

“Cameras.” She says against his lips, and she tugs him down the hall, and to the elevator.

He keeps his hands to himself while in the elevator, unsure of more cameras, but when she gets them to her door he puts his hands on her shoulders as he stands behind her.

“Is Ronnie home?” He whispers in her ear and goosebumps raise on her skin.

“N-no, she decided to visit some friends for the weekend.”

She keys into the apartment, and she just barely gets the door closed when she’s being pushed up against the wall. If she had the strength to pick him up and carry him to her room she would, but she can’t, so she just tugs on him to move further into the flat. His lips felt so good on hers, and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, causing him to groan against her. She finally gets him in her room, and she pushes him back onto her bed. She straddles him immediately, and his hands squeeze at her hips.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks as he looks up at her. “It’s not too fast?”

“Consider it third date sex, I’m good with it if you are.” She reaches for the hem of her dress and lifts it off herself, revealing a white lace set of underwear. His hands slide up and down her sides.

“Third date, huh?” He smirks.

She leans down to kiss him.

“Chipotle.” Her teeth tug at his bottom lip and she lets it snap back. “The movie last night.” She sucks a mark into his neck, just under his earlobe. “And tonight.” She sits back up. “So, no, I don’t think this is too fast, do you?”

“No.”

He flips her over onto her back, and she giggles as he works to get his costume off. He hovers over her, and kisses down her neck. He mouths over her covered nipples and sucks on her through the fabric. Her hips buck up towards him as he continues working his way down her body. Her heart was about ready to beat out of her chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks just as his lips go right below her belly button.

“Uh…I was going to take your underwear off, if that’s alright.”

“And then what?”

“I’d love to have a taste of you, if you let me.”

“You really wanna do that? It…it doesn’t gross you out?”

“What’s gross about it?” He smirks. “This right here?” He cups her mound and she whimpers. “One of the greatest wonders of the world. So, can I?”

“Yes.”

He hooks his fingers into her panties, and he tugs them down her legs. He kisses on her hips as he opens her legs. He sucks on each of her lips before licking up her slit. He swirls his tongue around her clit, which was positively throbbing for him. He wraps her lips around the small bud and sucks. Her mouth falls open and her hands fly to his hair.

“Oh, fuck.” She moans.

He moans against her, and it just makes her pool between her legs even more him. He was really enjoying this, which was making her enjoy it even more than usual. It was usually a force with guys her age, but Harry had no problem with it. If she didn’t want to suck his dick before, she definitely did now.

Harry removes his mouth from, only for a moment, to suck his middle and ring fingers into his mouth. He slides them through her folds, and then carefully slips them inside her center. She gasps from the stretch at first, and then she feels like she’s melting into the bed. His mouth goes back to her clit while his fingers curl up inside her to pet against her front wall. Her hips start moving along with the rhythm of his fingers, chasing her release.

“Shit, Harry, ngh.” She was panting now.

Her legs move over his shoulders and her heels dig into his back. He groans against her as she falls apart underneath him. He works her through it, giving her clit slow licks as he pulls his fingers from her. He sucks his fingers into his mouth. They make eye contact, briefly, before she’s pinning him down, and she’s yanking his boxers off. Her eyes widen when she sees his length slap back against his lower tummy. She pecks his lips before getting situated between his legs.

Y/N licks up the underside of his hard length, and his head falls back. Her mouth wraps around his tip and she suckles on it before popping off. She spits into her hand and wraps it around him to pump him slowly. She cradles his balls and moves to suck and lick gently on them.

“Oh, dear god.” He moans. “Y/N, I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Do you wanna just fuck now? Wanna fuck me, Harry?” She pouts at him.

He was surprised by her. He nods at her, and she smirks at him. She gets up and takes her bra off while she walks into her bathroom to grab a condom. She tosses it to him as she knees back onto the bed. He rips it open and rolls it on, and he gets back on top of her. He rolls the head of his cock between her folds and around her clit before pushing inside her.

“Still sure? I can stop.”

“No, please, I want it, Harry.”

He smiles and continues to push inside her. She grits her teeth at the feeling. Once he’s all the way in he gives her a moment before slowly pulling back out. He sinks back inside her, and that’s when it starts to feel good. She was nice and tight around him, not that he really cared. He knew it would feel good because he liked her so much. He did wonder, though, when the last time someone had the privilege to stretch her out like this.

“You feel so fucking good.” He says and leans down to suck on her bottom lip. His hands move to knead her breasts, and she moans.

She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. She just want him to smother her. She moves her hips up to rock along with his, and she gasps when she feels him hit her g-spot.

“Fuck, just like that, don’t stop.”

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Fuck, Harry, yeah, keep going.”

He had per panting again, and her nails were scratching down his back. It felt good, though, to feel her just about breaking his skin because he’s making her feel so good. Her back arches off the bed as she comes undone again, and he presses hard inside her so she can really feel it. She thought maybe he had come too since he was pulling out, but he grips her hips and flips her onto her stomach. He pulls her back, spreads her apart, and pushes back inside her.

“Oh!” She gasps.

“This okay?” He grunts.

“More than okay, fuck.” She pushes back against him and he nearly chuckles.

Quick, deep strokes were entering her. Her bed was shaking, and her cheeks were straight up getting clapped. It was such a breath of fresh air to be with man who knew what to do with it. He grips the back of her neck to steady himself as his thrusts get sloppy.

“I’m gonna come.” He groans. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ He moans out as he spills into the condom.

He was so vocal, and she really liked that. He pulls out of her slowly, and takes the condom off.

“Trash is over there.” She breathes and points towards her desk. He nods and gets up to dispose of it. She gets up and waddles into her bathroom to use her toilet. When she comes back out he’s getting his boxers back on. “You, um, don’t need to leave if you don’t want to.”

“Normally I’d stay, but…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Sort of embarrassing to walk back tomorrow morning as Fred Flinstone.” He smirks.

“Right.” She nods as she throws on a bed shirt, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“But I could stay a little longer, lay with you a bit.”

“I don’t want you to be upset if you fall asleep.”

“I won’t be…suppose it would be funny.” He comes over to her and gives her a kiss on the forehead before going into her bathroom.

He gets into bed with once he’s done, and she snuggles up to his side, laying her head on his chest. Her fingers trace around his various tattoos. He rubs her back, and it lulls her to sleep.

//

The next morning she wakes up to an empty bed. Where he was laying wasn’t even warm so he must have left soon after she fell asleep. She sighs and takes a shower, washing her night away. She checks her phone, and smiles, all worry leaving her body.

Harry: slipped out after you fell asleep, hope you don’t think I’m one of those guys…I had a lot of fun, talk at work Monday?

Y/N: definitely don’t think you’re one of those guys…now lol yeah, let’s talk Monday

She sighs and sits at her desk to get some grading done. Or she was hopeful to get work done. The ache between her legs was proving to be pretty distracting.

//

Y/N takes a deep breath before walking into the shop Monday afternoon. There were plenty of customers buying discounted costumes, so Harry’s only able to smile at her as she slips into the backroom to hang her coat up.

“I guess…do you think he’ll still like this in a year?” The woman asks Harry.

“I’m not gonna like to you, he easily couldn’t, but if I know kids, they like to have options. If he ends up having a couple of parties to go to, he won’t want to wear the same costume to each event.”

“That’s true…alright, you’ve sold me, Harry.”

“Excellent! I’ll you ring you up.”

Y/N brushes behind Harry as he works the register. The whole evening was busy, so when he’s finally able to put the closed sign up, he’s relieved to see her sitting standing in the office.

“Hey.” He says to her.

“Hi.” She blushes.

His hands grip her hips and he effortlessly lifts her up onto the desk. He presses his forehead to hers.

“Y/N, I know we’ve become close, but I’ve been feeling conflicted because I’m also your boss, and the last thing I wanna do is take advantage of the situation.”

“Hey.” She says, cupping his cheeks so he’ll look at her. “We weren’t even at work…everything we’ve done has been outside of this place. You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you regret the other night?”

“No, not at all.” His hands rest on her thighs as he stands between her legs. He tucks some hair behind her ear. “I just don’t really know what to do here.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be working here much longer, just until the end of November, right?”

“Right.”

“So…do you wanna, like, keep dating? Going out and stuff?”

“I’d really like that. I want us to keep getting to know each other. I wish I had stayed the whole night the other night. I felt like such a dick for leaving.”

“Don’t, it’s fine. I would have done the same thing.” She smiles and then bites her bottom lip. “Besides, you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to sleepover.”

“I will?” He smiles.

She nods and he leans in to kiss her. Harry was a simple guy who owned a costume shop, and thanks to the girl in grad school he hired for the season, he made it through Halloween yet again. This time, instead of celebrating his profits with Niall down at the pub, he was kissing the very same girl that took his breath away when she walked in.

[missscarletta7]

The Broken Crown- Chapter 4

Enjoy chapter 4!

Summary: All Margaret Shelby ever wanted, was the opportunity to write her own story. Only now is she beginning to realize that her brother may have already written it for her...

OoOoOo

"When your dreams all fail,

And the ones we hail, Are the worst of all,

And the blood runs stale"

~Demons~

OoOoOo

1919

Maggie was so excited. She dragged Cara toward the pub the moment their school day was finished.

"Why are we going into the Garrison?" The blonde asked curiously.

"You have to meet the barmaid who works here," Maggie explained.

"I've seen her," Cara informed her. "What's so special about her?"

"We've become good friends." It was true, after such a long period of time had passed without seeing her older sister, Grace inevitably filled the gaping space that Ada had left behind.

"Should I be jealous?" The blonde teased.

Maggie flashed a loving smile, "No one could ever replace you."

When the dark-haired girl opened the pub door, the first thing they heard was Grace's melodic voice singing. "-As I've never loved before..."

Maggie spotted Grace serving drinks to the regular customers. Unfortunately, one of those customers was Ross, who was sitting with a group of men who would hang around the betting shop. Cara was quick to notice him too, her body immediately tensed.

"Since first I saw you on the village green..."

"Sorry Mags, I forgot my mum wanted me to fix stitching on some dresses," This was one of the few times Maggie had ever seen Cara looking embarrassed, "Maybe next time, yeah?"

"Come to me ere my dream of love is o'er..."

The dark-haired girl nodded, not wanting to refute the her friends claim, and watched Cara hurriedly exit through the doors.

"I love you as I loved you when you were sweet..." Maggie moved herself over to the row of empty barstools and took a seat as Grace was finishing her song. "When you were sweet sixteen."

Grace then walked behind the bar while Maggie applauded at the performance. "Hello Maggie," Grace greeted happily, grabbing a dirty pint glass off the bar. "Don't look behind you,but a handsome young man is staring at you."

Maggie felt her stomach turn, responding, "Let's change the subject."

Grace smirked, "How was school?"

"Dull," The girl said truthfully, "Harry out again?"

Grace nodded, "It's been slow."

"What have you been doing today?"

"I had a meeting with the gentleman who will be installing the pub's brand new phone."

"Neat." Maggie beamed at the thought of the new technology.

"Your brother is trying to go legitimate." Grace informed her, "He wants to make this place seem a bit more respectable."

"Which one?" The dark-haired girl asked.

"Arthur." She answered back unenthusiastically, "Though he doesn't seem too interested in fixing anything. I mean, look at the state of these." The barmaid picked up a carton of cigarettes that was ripping apart. "Where do these even come from?" She asked, hoping this question would lead to where the guns may be hidden.

Maggie just shrugged at her question. "How should I know? I think they have a few warehouses in town."

Grace nodded, taking in the information, before noticing a customer beckon her over, "I'll be back." She told the girl.

Maggie sat by herself for a few moments before she felt a presence inch closer to stand beside her. She knew there would be a confrontation at some point, she had done so well in avoiding him. She didn't have a chance to say anything before Ross spoke first, "I had instructions to give this to you."

Reaching into the pocket inside of his coat he pulled out a folded piece of parchment, placing it on the bar he slid it towards her. She was surprised but nevertheless relieved when he said nothing else and walked back to his table. Taking the note, she unfolded it to read the message that was scribbled out. As she read a smile crept onto her face. The message was from Ada.

OoOoOo

In the parlor, Maggie had been writing in her journal when Polly descended the down the stairs. "Put your shoes on," The older woman ordered, "Johns called a family meeting."

Watching Polly walk across the room, Maggie raised her eyebrow, "Thought I wasn't allowed at family meetings."

"John says it's not that kind of a meeting," Polly said, exiting into the tiny kitchen. Maggie happily closed her book and slipped on her black boots which were resting right underneath the old coffee table, before following her aunt into the kitchen.

"Pol?" Maggie asked worriedly when she noticed the woman standing rigidly by the table. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." Polly said after a moment, "C'mon, we don't want to be late." Polly moved to enter the betting shop with her niece in tow.

"Where's John?" Tommy asked his aunt, agitated his brother was not at his post.

"John's in the Garrison, says he wants a meeting about a family matter," Polly informed him, placing her hat on her head. "After he's said his piece he'll come back and take his place with Scudboat."

Maggie tried to follow her aunt, but was stopped by Tommy's outstretched arm, "Where are you going?"

"To the meeting. John told Polly I could come," Maggie explained to him.

Though Tommy didn't look completely persuaded, Polly called on the large man taking bets. "John will be here in ten minutes"

"Five," Tommy corrected before the family walked out of the shop onto the cobblestone pavement.

"What does John want to talk about?" Tommy asked his aunt.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Always been one for dramatics, our John" Polly replied jokingly causing Maggie to chuckle out.

"You're in a good mood," Tommy noted to the smiling girl as he pulled out a cigarette to smoke.

"I like going to the Garrison," Maggie responded.

"She likes talking to that barmaid." Polly translated her nieces' words.

"You and Grace seem to chat a lot," Tommy spoke, exhaling a breath of smoke.

The girl shrugged. "I like Grace, she likes my writing," quickly adding, "We're friends."

"You trust her enough to share your work," Tommy said, impressed by the sudden growth of his sister. "I'm thinking of asking her to be my secretary," Tommy suddenly informed the ladies.

"Only a secretary?" Maggie asked, raising her eyebrows cheekily.

He flashed her a ghost of a smile, "Never you mind."

"Secretary, eh?" Polly finally spoke up as the Garrison came into their view.

"We're going, legitimate Pol." Tommy reasoned, "What's more legitimate than a secretary? Or maybe I’ll make her a bookkeeper. Arthur mentioned she’s good with numbers and helped him fix the books." Polly said nothing and this seemed to spark something in the gangster, "Got something to say?"

"Just don't let your cock do your thinking for you Thomas," Polly warned. He remained silent, but a small smirk was fixed on his face causing the aunt to roll her eyes.

When they entered the pub, it was empty, except for Harry, who stood behind the bar drying some glasses with a white rag. They saw Finn leaning against the outer wall of the private room, which Maggie assumed John and Arthur were already in.

"Stay out here Finn," Polly ordered the eleven-year-old who tried to enter with them.

"But Mags gets to go in!" The boy protested, yet his words went unheard. This made him look jealousy at his sister, who had stuck her tongue out at her little brother as she walked into the snug with the rest of the family. Both John and Arthur were already seated, and she took a place right next to Polly.

"All right John, there's only one man-," Tommy spoke, before declining the drink Arthur poured for him continuing, "There's only one man guarding the house. What's troubling you?"

"Aunt Polly, Maggie, you two know what it's been like since Martha died." John began.

Maggie gave her brother a sad smile as Polly took his hand and said, "God takes the best first."

John looked to his sister, "Mags, you've been a big help with them, but the truth is my kids have been running bloody rings around me." With hopelessness in his voice, he continued, "Running barefoot with the dogs until all hours."

Maggie's heart ached for him, but Tommy was not having it, "Pol, give him ten bob for some new shoes. Is that it, John?" He asked his brother impatiently.

"Tommy it would be better to do this without you," Polly scolded before turning her attention back to John. "Now what's your point?"

"What the kids need is a mother." John spoke again slowly, "So that's why I'm getting married."

Everyone in the room exchanged glances of surprise. Polly was the first to speak, "Does this poor girl know you're going to marry her? Or are you just going to spring it on her all of a sudden?"

John replied matter-of-factly, "I've already proposed, and she said 'yes'."

"I think that's great John," a smiling Maggie announced. Finally! She was officially off babysitting duty.

"I think there's a shell about to land and go bang," Tommy stated mockingly, before lighting the cigarette hanging in his mouth.

Hesitantly John spoke again, "It's um- its Lizzie Stark."

"Oh, eww," Maggie breathed out, crossing her arms as her family cackled at her expression.

Polly managed to compose herself, "John, Lizzie Stark is a strong woman and I am sure she provides a fine service for her customers-"

"I won't hear the word! Understand? Do not use that word." He told them angrily.

Tommy sighed out, "What word is that, John?"

"You know what word that is," John growled out.

"Everybody bloody knows" Arthur finally spoke out and pointed at his sister, "Shit, even Mags here knows."

John gritted out, "Everybody can go to Hell."

"Whore. That word?" Tommy finally supplied. "Or prostitute? How about that one?"

Fury flashed in Johns' eyes, "Right I want it known, if anyone calls her a whore again, I will push the barrel of my revolver down their throats and blow the word back down into their hearts."

"Well, that's not dramatic at all," Maggie mumbled out her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Men and their cocks never cease to amaze me." Polly berated, "John, Lizzie Stark never did a day's work vertical- "

"She's changed!" John insisted, "All right?! People change! Like- Like with religion-"

"Lizzie Stark has got religion, eh?" Tommy interrupted.

"No! No, she doesn't have religion, but- well she loves me." John asserted, "Now listen Tommy, I won't do it without your blessing. But of all the people in the world- I want you to see it as brave."

"Oh, it's brave all right," Arthur muttered before taking a swig of his drink.

"Brave is going where no man has gone before. And with Lizzie Stark, John, that really is not what you'll be doing" She told him, unable to hold back the laughter.

But he ignored her, looking back at his older brother, "Listen, Tommy, welcome her to the family, as someone whose had a hard life. All right because I need someone. The kids need someone."

Tommy looked as if he was about to give his reply before Finn pushed open the door forcefully panting out, "Tommy, we've been done over!"

"What?" Arthur asked in disbelief.

Quickly Maggie followed her siblings and Polly, who all practically ran out of the Garrison. Not stopping until they all were back in front of number seventeen, Watery Lane. "You and Finn stay outside," Polly ordered once they were outside the entrance of the betting shop.

Maggie was about to object until Tommy echoed their aunts' instructions and followed the rest of his family inside. The pair of Shelby's eventually moved from the noisy street to the alley where the car was parked. Finn carefully crawled onto the hood and contorted his way over the front window. Maggie followed her brother, stepping up to sit on top of the hood, letting her feet lightly kick the metal of the vehicle that protected the thin wheels.

"Look, Maggie," Finn giggled and the girl twisted her upper body to see her brother playing with the steering wheel, "I'm Tommy!"

The girl smiled, "If you're trying to be Tommy, you should work more on your scowl." She told him jokingly. Overdramatically Finn made a scowl but immediately broke character by breaking out in even more giggles, triggering Maggie to laugh as well.

Suddenly Tommy was at the entrance of the alleyway in front of them, he looked instantly distressed. "Maggie, Finn." He began slowly, "Both of you stay exactly where you are."

"What's wrong?" she asked him worriedly. Did something happen inside?

Raising his arm out to her spoke out cautiously, "Mags, as careful as ya can, I need you to slowly slide off the hood."

She did as she was told, while Finn kept snickering, "I was pretending I was you." The child told his brother, but Tommy ignored him instead he directed Maggie to move against the dingy brick wall.

Once he felt like his sister was out of danger he went back to the child in the car, "Which door did you open to come in Finn?"

"I didn't," He told his big brother proudly. "I climbed in."

"I want you to climb out exactly the same way you climbed in, okay?" Tommy instructed, but Finn disobeyed and opened the driver's door.

Maggie watched as Tommy ran to grab an object that had been on the side of the door, yelling out, "Clear!" before flinging it to hit the brick wall on the opposite side of the street. Maggie yelped out at the sound of the explosion, which caused working men to drop to the ground. "That's why you should never pretend to be me, okay?" Tommy told Finn, visibly shaken by this incident. Tommy then took a deep breath and pulled both of his younger siblings close to him.

OoOoOo

Polly and Maggie had just entered the washhouse Ada had informed them she would be visiting. It was a large space, but luckily there were not very many people who decided to do their laundry at the establishment that afternoon. Alone in the corner of the washroom, sitting on a stool, was a woman with a long brown coat, wide black hat, folding trousers onto the small table beside her.

"Need help?" Polly asked the woman eagerly.

The woman looked up to see her family members and smiled, "You got my letter." Ada grinned and stood up with a bit of difficulty, Polly was the first one to embrace her.

Once the aunt and niece pulled apart it was Maggie's turn. Though the hug was more on the awkward side, due to the sizable stomach that was in the way. She muttered into her sisters' ear, "Fuck, you're huge!"

"Oh, shut up." Ada happily retorted, smacking her sister's arm lightly.

"What's with the glasses?" Maggie laughed and pointed at the large spectacles on her sister's face.

"Freddie wants me in disguise when I go out now." She spoke with a bored tone and pointed to the strange-looking eyeglasses. "Can't bloody see anything with these."

Maggie grabbed a pair of socks, which she assumed was Freddie's, from Ada's hand, "Here let me help you." She told her sister and began to fold the newly laundered clothing.

"Has Freddie got you hiding somewhere near?" Polly asked hostilely.

"It's fucking rat hole," Ada spit out, "the entire flat is about the size of your room, Mags."

Maggie felt sad for her sister. Sure, the Shelby family didn't have much to their name, but they were better off compared to most of the population in Small Heath. "Is that Copper still looking for Freddie?" Ada inquired to which Polly nodded.

Ada cursed and placed a hand on her large stomach, "I just want to live in peace with my family. But instead of thinking of me or the baby, all he cares about is the bloody cause. Freddie even gave someone two hundred bloody pounds."

Polly leaned in closer to the pregnant girl, and with a hushed tone asked, "Who?"

OoOoOo

Maggie walked down the hall from her room to Tommy's, she was hoping she could borrow a pen since hers ran out of ink. Before she opened the closed door, she could have sworn she heard noises. Had her brother come home early?

"Tom?" She asked, opening the door, but that wasn't who was in the room, "John?"

Being caught, the third oldest Shelby stopped his rifling through their brothers' things, though seemed relieved it was only her, "Mags-"

"What are you doing here?" She asked before she noticed that his eyes were watery, "Has something happened?"

"The weddings off," He informed her with an irritated tone and moved to the dresser drawers.

"Oh." Was all she could manage to say awkwardly, "I'm sorry."

"Don't," he told her bitterly, shaking his head then went back to rifling through the dresser flipping over Tommy's clothes. "It ain't your fault I'm a fucking idiot!"

"You're no idiot, John," she assured him yet he just scoffed at her words.

"Never fall in love Maggie, leads to nothing but fucking agony."

“What does falling in love even feel like anyway?” She surprised herself when she asked.

John stopped and turned his red eyes to her for a moment before continuing his search, “You know it… it's like this feeling in your gut.” He told her somewhat uncomfortably, “Your heart beats a little faster, your mind always wanders back to thinking about them, no matter what you're doing; when you eat, when you sleep, when you work… Why the fuck are you asking me this?”

“No reason”, Maggie said quickly. "What are you even looking for, anyway?"

He didn't respond to her question, causing her to become frustrated. "Fine, don't tell me." Maggie walked over to the nightstand, picked up the first writing device she saw and left the room.

OoOoOo

The next evening Maggie had fallen asleep on the sofa in the tiny parlor of their home, at least until she was shaken awake by her aunt. "What's the matter?" she muttered out, quickly sitting herself up. Was something wrong? Had the Lees come back?

"Nothing, love" Polly reassured her, "I left a new dress on your bed, go put it on."

"We're going out?" The girl asked, confused, no one had told her they had prior arrangements.

"Yes," Polly nodded, "Now c'mon, we don't have that much time."

Maggie rose from her spot, "Where are we going, Pol?"

"To a wedding," The older woman huffed impatiently and made her way up the stairs to the bedrooms.

This confused Maggie even more, "Whose?"

Not two hours later Maggie had gotten her answer. She and Polly met Ada near the Lees campground and walked into their enemy's territory with no trouble at all. They approach the crowd of witnesses just as Johnny Dogs begins the ceremony. Ada stopped to stand beside Tommy.

"Let's stand over here, love," Polly said, guiding Maggie past her siblings to get a better view of the union. She watched on as Johnny officiated, taking notice that her brother actually looked happy to be up there. Her attention was taken off the bride and groom when she spotted Ross standing about ten feet away with the rest of the Peaky Blinders. Smiling softly at his familiar face, she waved, her stress alleviated when he did the same.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," Johnny said happily as all the witnesses cheered at the new couple's first kiss.

As the night went on the partygoers were all in a festive mood. Sitting on a wooden barrel, Maggie watched as everyone mingled and danced. Tommy was sitting and chatting with the matriarch of the Lee family, Arthur was in the middle of what looked like a drinking contest, and John danced to the music with his beautiful new wife, Esme. Even she had started to sway to the music as the firecrackers sounded off over the happy noises.

"Mags," Ross greeted her, walking up next to stand next to her seating place.

"Hello," she replied, followed by an awkward pause, "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you." She told him after a few moments.

"Understandable." He responded instantly, "I've been a wanker and not just to you." Taking another puff of his cigarette, he exhaled, "I'll talk to Cara."

Maggie was surprised by this proclamation, "Really?"

"I'll sort it out." He nodded looking at the others dancing, and with a smile continued, "I miss walking with you two."

Maggie returned the smile, "We miss you too."

Ross stuck his hand out, "Care to dance?"

Maggie felt her face flush, and waved her hands in protest, "Oh, no I couldn't."

"C'mon, it's a party." He urged, with his hand still outstretched. Smiling, the girl cautiously took it and was led to the crowd.

Feeling like an idiot, she tried to keep up with the fast-paced music, but it seemed like her feet couldn't move fast enough. She felt someone clumsily bump into her backside nearly knocking her over. "Oi! Watch- Oh sorry love." Ada slurred out.

"It's alright," Maggie assured her sister, regaining her balance.

Ada then awkwardly cupped her little sister's face with both hands, and with a very stern tone warned, "Don't you ever let a man call you a 'Fucking Shelby' you hear me." She then rounded on the man next to her and jabbed a finger close to Ross’s face. "You hear me."

"Don't you worry, Ada," Ross guaranteed her, which seemed to be good enough for the older Shelby girl whose demeanor quickly changed back to her delighted drunkenness, dancing away from them.

As Ross spun her around, she caught a glimpse of John and Esme, sitting together and happily getting to know one another, "Seems like love at first sight." She heard Ross say.

"Seems so," Maggie replied happily. Very soon her attention was drawn to Tommy and Arthur trying to get a drunken Ada under control, "Oh no." She breathed out, walking closer to her feuding family members.

"Come and look, Esme!" Ada shouted, "Come and look at the family you joined!" The music ceased and now everyone's attention was on the intoxicated woman. "Come and look at the man who runs it! He chooses his brother's wives for them!" Ada shouted out for everyone to hear. She wasn't finished though, the woman then pointed at her younger sister, "Have you got some old perverted man lined up for Maggie?!"

Maggie felt her stomach drop at the thought, she felt everyone's gaze turn to her as she remained frozen in place. The only comfort that she felt was when Ross put her arm around her waist, as if to protect her. Tommy just stood in front of Ada looking at her stoically, but the mother-to-be wasn't done yet. "He hunts his own sister down like a rat, and he tries to kill his own brother-in-law!"

"Ada, that's enough!" Arthur tried to intervene.

"And now he won't even let me have a fucking dance! Not even at a fucking wedding!"

"Sit her down!" John barked out.

"Calm down Ada," Polly kept repeating, trying to soothe her. "Holy Shit. Water, right."

"Not now Ada," Arthur whined, obviously devastated the party was now unavoidably cut short. "Bloody hell, you do pick your times."

Tommy rushed over to Ada placing his coat over her and assisted Pol with leading her out of the vicinity and into the family car.

Maggie turned to her friend, "I have to-"

"Go." Ross finished for her.

Maggie rushed towards her family, who all made their way to the car. "It's too early!" she heard Ada cry out as she was ushered into the vehicle. Maggie too jumped into the front seat next to her brother.

"It'll be ok, love." Polly soothed sliding in next to her, before turning to the driver, "Step on it, Tommy."

OoOoOo

"Freddie," Ada kept repeating as she laid down on the sofa in the small parlor. "I want Freddie!"

"I know," Maggie sighed out uncomfortably, moving a sweaty piece of hair out of her sister's face.

"I can't do it, Mags. I can't do it on my own." Ada whimpered.

The younger girl's heart ached, "Hey, look at me, you can do this," She assured her, "You are so strong, if anyone can do this it'll be you."

Luckily for them, Esme had finally arrived moments later.

"Ada!" They heard Polly scream before she re-entered the home. "They're getting the word out to Freddie. He'll be here, love." She assured her niece, who grunted out as yet another contraction commenced.

"I think it might be the wrong way 'round," Esme told them, "I attended three sisters."

"Yeah, I think you're right," Polly agreed.

Maggie squirmed in place nervously, "What does that mean?"

"We should lean her forward," Esme suggested and Polly nodded, helping Ada up.

"C'mon, it's not that long to go, darling," The aunt encouraged the screaming woman. "Push, two, three!"

"Holy shit," Maggie muttered out, as she watched a new life was making its way out of her sister.

"Keep going, that's it!" Polly cheered before pulling out the baby completely. "It's a boy, Ada," Polly told the exhausted woman over the newborn's cries as Esme cut the cord connecting the mother and son with some old scissors.

Polly cleaned the new baby boy off tenderly with a small rag before returning him to Ada, who was beaming at the small life in her arms. Maggie heard banging from the front entrance and if she had not gotten out of the way fast enough Freddie may have run over her. Maggie smiled at the sight of the little family. The feeling didn't last long though, because the front door opened once again, and she felt herself being pushed aside the wall by a copper. Esme could be heard yelling, the baby boy began to shriek, and Ada sobbed, clinging to her newborn to her chest.

"Freddie!" Ada cried out as the group of officers dragged the new father out of the home.

"Tommy," Polly said darkly before letting out a string of curses in Romany before storming out of the house.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Omertà👄4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (sexual intercourse); tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: You guys are awesome. Just thought you should know! Thanks for reading and following along. :D I am always so thankful for everything y’all do.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Aside from the colour, you were not a fan of the dress. The black number was little much for you; the long sleeves couldn’t make up for the length of the skirt or the strappy back. You were still unaccustomed to your new wardrobe and you doubted you ever would be. When you arrived that morning at The Attic, you’d felt like an idiot. 

After noon, you excused yourself if only to escape Loki for an hour. He hadn’t failed to remind you of the day’s meeting. Over a week and a half since the last. Just as long spent in dread. It was bad enough facing Loki each day but another to know you’d be book-ended between him and Bucky.

You went to a restaurant not far from the shop. You passed it now and then but never thought of stepping inside the ultra sleek bar. You did that day; a reluctant retreat. You sat by the window and ordered an organic juice and a salad. 

You rarely ate anything more than microwaves dinners and non-perishables. You often found yourself forgetting to stop and eat when you were at work and you gave little thought to what awaited you after.

You poked at the baby spinach and glanced out the window. The strawberry juice was a little too sweet and made your jaw twitch. You looked back to your bowl as you tried to hide your recognition. The man across the street; you’d seen him before.

It would be easy enough to shrug off his brief glance as coincidence as he walked casually along the pavement, but you hadn’t missed him as you emerged from The Attic. Or a few days back on your way home. His golden hair shone above his chiseled jaw and his bright eyes made him a beacon on the streets. He was following you and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

You left the last few leaves in the bottom of the bowl to drown in dressing. You took your last sip from the glass and folded the bills in the little leather folder. You stood and nodded at your waitress on your way out. The blond man was gone. For now.

You returned to the shop and slipped into the office. Loki wasn’t there and you were thankful. You sat and pulled out your phone. You pulled down the skirt which had a tendency to slip to your thigh. 

As you wiggled in your chair, the door opened and Loki appeared. He didn’t miss the little shimmy and smiled as he neared your desk. His eyes sparkled at you as his fingers rubbed along the edge of the wood.

“We should go soon.” He said. “But we should talk first.”

“Right,” You kept your phone propped up but spared him a brief peek.

“First, listen,” He reached over and tapped your phone. “Important. I tell you to do something, you do it. No back talk. It would be as bad for you as for me should you choose to undermine me in the presence of those men.”

You nodded and lowered your phone. You looked at him and squished your lips together.

“Play along. I know you’re not stupid so I know you can play your part well.” He grinned. “This man is simple; even you can rile him.”

You shook your head and swayed your leg as you crossed your arms.

“Is that all?” You asked.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you of what this world means; of the consequences of such repugnance.” He frowned. “Remember your father, perhaps that will keep you in line.”

“Perhaps,” You sneered.

“Well,” He drew away. “I’d rather this over with. I am not a fan of these places. Sad, really.”

You stood and tucked your phone in your purse. You slung it on your shoulder and sighed.

“Well, at least we can agree on expedience,” You said.

👄

The She-Wolf looked grim in the daylight. The neon sign flashed although the flicker was hard to notice so early. You followed Loki to the doors but he swiftly sidestepped a patron stumbling out. You watched the man, already drunk, as he wobbled away. 

You swallowed your discomfort and entered as Loki opened the door for you, the bouncers eyed both of you. He was greeted by a woman in a crop top and booty shorts. He looked at her as if she were a leper.

“Laufeyson for Barnes,” He announced. “Is there a man who I should--”

“Over here,” She interrupted him and his brows drew together. “Just by Tiffani.”

Loki hesitated but followed, his arm curled around you as he swept you along with him. There were only two stages in use and the bar was almost empty. Still the music buzzed and the dark room was swathed with coloured arcs of light. You sat along the half-moon stage as the woman offered you drinks. 

Loki sniffed as he peered around and refused. You thanked her but forewent the offer as well. Loki sat back and draped his arm behind you. He looked over at you and you didn’t miss his gaze as his hand flitted down to your dress. His hand snaked over and he caressed your leg just beneath the hem.

“Well…” He kept his voice low. “I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Stop,” You grabbed his hand.

“Stop? Ah, you know, I never expected to share tastes with Barnes but I might see a little of what he does.” He purred. “This might be more fun than I expected.”

“Loki,” You hissed as he flipped his hand and twisted yours back. “Enough.”

“We should’ve taken our time back at the office.” He slithered.

“I mean it.” You wrestled with him. “It’s not funny.”

“I am not joking, darling,” He rolled his R coyly. “And seeing as…” His eyes went to the woman spinning up on the pole. “He has such low standards… you’ve made this pleasantly easy.”

He shook you away and pushed his hand between your knees. He gripped your leg as he took a breath. He cleared his throat and rescinded his touch as he stood. Bucky appeared from a doorway along the back of the club and you rose too. He was flanked by two other men and they followed him to the stage as he smirked at you. He barely acknowledged Loki as he offered you his hand.

“Sweetheart,” He looked you up and down. “Mmm, you look wonderful.”

You thanked him softly and stiffened as you shook his hand.

“Loki,” He released you and extended his hand to the other man. “Early. As always.”

“We take our time seriously in Manhattan,” Loki gripped Bucky’s hand firmly. “It is, as they say, money.”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky withdrew and sat. His men stayed behind him, like statues. 

Bucky leaned his elbow on the table that lined the stage and gazed up at the now topless Tiffani as she hung upside down from the pole. He smirked and his eyes slowly fell to you.

“So, you thirsty?” He asked.

“It’s early,” Loki answered for you.

“Not that early,” Bucky insisted as he raised his hand. “What do you like? You seem like a scotch man.” 

His eyes never left you as the woman who greeted you returned. 

“Or whiskey,” Loki replied, annoyed that he was all but being ignored.

“And the lady?” He wondered. “Champagne?”

“That’s a bit much,” You sat straight. 

“Rose? Chardonnay?” He continued. “I have a rather extensive cellar. I could let you have a look if you wish.”

“We didn’t come here to peruse your wine collection,” Loki intoned.

“No,” Bucky slapped his hand on the table. “You came here to give me my money and to accept my hospitality. It would be rude to bite the hand, wouldn’t it?”

Loki’s jaw jutted out in anger and he nodded, a snarl slowly left his nostrils.

“Gin,” You said sternly. “Gin is fine.”

“Gin,” Bucky repeated as his expression softened and he turned to the waitress. “Scotch for my friend,” He waved to Loki, “And two gins. Top shelf.”

“Yes, sir,” She recited and her smile betrayed her attraction for the man. Bucky, despite his person, could not be called hideous.

“You know,” Bucky turned to Loki, his eyes strayed to you for a moment, “I was thinking of this new arrangement and while I appreciate that your men are working so hard, I would prefer a few of mine help out.”

“Help out?” Loki squinted.

“Allies, you said.” Bucky leaned back and pulled his thin lapels straight. “So we should work together. If I sent a few of my hands down to our warehouses, they wouldn’t be hassled, would they? Especially not if they were helping with our business.”

Loki swallowed. It was one thing to split up the take, but another to allow others onto territory he still felt was rightfully his. The compromise was temporary in his mind; a means to an end. A patient plot.

“Surely not,” Loki forced out. “I would make sure of it.”

“Very good,” Bucky smiled as he watched the waitress set down the drinks. “I will send them down tomorrow then.”

“I’ll make sure mine are aware,” Loki inhaled deeply and took his scotch. His other hand wandered over your thigh and he rested it there as he sipped. 

You grabbed your drink and swigged down a bitter mouthful before you could chide him. Bucky didn’t miss the movement and his eyes followed Loki’s arm to his hand. Loki’s long fingers squeezed and you winced. Bucky took a drink as he looked you over.

“I’ll take my money now,” He gritted out. “Drinks are on me though.”

Loki set down his glass and dragged his hand from your leg. He shifted your skirt as he did, enough to expose your upper thigh. You fixed it and Bucky hummed. You looked up as he shifted in his chair. He was focused on your lap and you pushed your legs together tightly.

Loki reached into his jacket and pulled out the bundle. He planted it on the table before Bucky who quickly took it and began to count. When he finished, he smacked the stack on his palm and then handed it over to one of his men.

“You like her?” Bucky pointed to Tiffani and Loki frowned. “The night shift is better. The girls are… skilled.”

“I’ve never been one for dancers. Or escorts.” Loki sneered.

“My girls are clean and I’d not call them escorts, they’re good company. Especially for men like us.”

“Men like us?” Loki huffed. “I don’t pay for my company.”

“So you must be lonely,” Bucky countered.

A tense silence followed as they stared each other down. Loki chuckled and finished his drink.

“Not that lonely,” He stretched his arm behind you. 

Bucky scratched his chin and nodded.

“It’s not always money you pay with,” Bucky mused. “Is it?”

“I have been told I am charming,” Loki’s fingers tickled your shoulder. “I’ve never wanted for much.”

“Is it charm or hot air?” Bucky challenged. “You talk a lot.”

“I won’t deny that,” Loki smirked. “But you know, a sharp tongue is truly a gift. Isn’t it, darling?”

Both men looked at you. You tapped your fingernail on your glass and chewed on your irritation.

“Truly,” You answered rigidly. “It must be.”

You lifted your glass and drank. Bucky watched you intently. Loki stared at him until he looked away and their gaze met. There was a moment of understanding; an unspoken challenge. You felt as if you were suffocating in your dress. You wanted another drink desperately.

👄

You left shortly after the pissing contest. You were glad to be away and didn’t stick around much longer at the antique shop. Loki was agitated and barely noticed when you left. Despite his well-honed veneer, he hadn’t been able to withhold his chagrin once free of the strip club.

The next day, you sensed little difference. He was silent, grumbly. He sat behind his desk and made the occasional call. He was impatient and bossy. He had Bucky’s men in his warehouses and he was talking his own down from igniting another war. Each call ended with a scribbled list of numbers for you to add to your ledger.

Your work was disturbed in the late afternoon. You heard Lopez in the showroom, his voice panicked as he neared the other side of the door. There was no knock as the squat man’s voice was left unmatched. The door opened as Loki reached under his jacket. He gripped his gun and watched the man who entered.

“No need for that,” The blonde man said coolly. He held a box and smiled as he looked around the room. “Just got a delivery.”

Loki scowled and reluctantly lowered his hand. “Delivery? Did Barnes forget something?”

The blonde’s jaw squared as he turned to you. He placed the box atop your open ledger. 

“Boss sends his regards,” He smirked. You said nothing as he nodded and glanced at Loki one last time. “To both of you.”

As quickly as he’d come, he was gone. You watched him go and frowned as Loki bid Lopez shut the door. You were silent as you shook your head at the box.

“Who was--”

“Rogers.” Loki snorted. “Barnes’ little lap dog.”

You were quiet. You wouldn’t let on that Barnes’ man had been tailing you. You didn’t think that would help with either of them. Or you.

“Well, open it.” He demanded.

You glanced at him and he lifted a brow. His eyes pierced you as you slid the box closer and let out a long breath. You rubbed your thumbs over the cardboard and carefully shook the lid free. The box fell to the desk and you set aside the top. You brushed aside the tissue paper and gaped at the swath of sparkling diamonds.

Loki sighed and tapped his fingers as he leaned forward.

“Do go on,” He said dryly.

You cringed and reached into the box. You hooked your fingers under the diamonds and lifted the glittering pair of panties. Your eyes met Loki’s over the top and his face paled with anger. Fuck.

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr | Also on AO3

Epilogue: Martin Prime

“…see it into a new era. Please join me in welcoming to the podium the Head of the Magnus Institute of London, Dr. Walter…Kos-ki-e-wicz.”

“Fifteen months and he still can’t pronounce it properly,” Jon whispered under the cover of the applause that followed the introduction.

“He’s better than he used to be,” Martin whispered back, squeezing Jon’s hand gently. “Go make nice.”

Jon lifted Martin’s fingers to his lips and pressed a soft, gentle kiss to the knuckles before pushing back from the long table and getting to his feet. Martin turned his head towards where the podium ought to be, thankful they’d been able to come in early and get the layout of the room so he didn’t look like a complete tit staring off into the wrong direction, as the clapping gradually tapered off into an expectant silence.

“Thank you, Mr. Campbell.” Jon popped the normally silent P with a dry, pointed humor Martin knew well. When the laughter had died down, he continued in the deep, rolling affectation he had begun adopting when he needed to act as the face of the Institute. “Friends, colleagues, distinguished guests. I stand before you tonight with the awesome and humbling privilege of thanking you all for coming to celebrate two hundred years of the Magnus Institute.”

Martin, who had listened to Jon practice this speech in the comfort of their living room at least twenty times in the last two weeks, let it fade into the background and settled back into his seat. Not being able to scan the assembled gathering was annoying, but while this might have been the largest event they had attended in the past year, it was by no means the first. He was used to having to fold his hands over his stomach, or the end of his cane, and imagine what everyone’s faces were doing.

A familiar whirring started up from the space Jon had vacated, and Martin smiled and laid his fingers on the tape recorder as it buzzed away. Somehow, it was comforting to know she was still listening, even now.

It hadn’t been easy getting to this point. Martin had never really actually expected killing Jonah Magnus to instantly make everything sunshine and roses again, but he definitely hadn’t expected the attempt to drain Jon so badly that he collapsed in his arms. Nor had he expected that it would take three days for him to open his eyes again. (Melanie had teased Jon a bit about “taking this whole Messiah Complex to extremes”, but even she’d been strained.) And the news from Great Yarmouth hadn’t helped matters. Martin was still kind of thankful that he hadn’t been able to see Sasha’s face when she got off the phone with Basira and reported what little she knew. Or the look on his counterpart’s face when he called and filled in the gaps thirty-six hours later. Martin had hoped they’d get out of the building before blowing it up, but at least they hadn’t gone into the Unknowing itself.

It had still been touch and go, though, and Tim was still adjusting to his new reality, but thankfully he had plenty of support. Martin could hear in their voices when they spoke that they were happy, in a way he was only just learning himself that he could be.

Jon made a surprisingly good Institute Head. It hadn’t necessarily been something he’d planned on, but when they got back from taking Charlie to see Present Jon and Present Martin—who refused to leave the hospital until Tim was awake and ready to come home himself—and Melanie informed him about the new temporary head, Jon had almost literally hit the roof and stormed the Institute himself. It had taken him two days to manage to get an audience with Peter Lukas, but in the end, he’d stood before him and informed him that he had a choice: Vacate his position and leave the Institute alone, or be destroyed utterly.

Peter Lukas, unsurprisingly, had chosen poorly.

For Jon to subsequently take control of the Institute had been Sasha’s idea, and her points—that Jon was bound to the Institute and would need a reason to stay close to it, that he was the only person who knew enough to keep it running and keep it safe, that anyone else would either make things worse or become corrupted by the Beholder—had been valid. She’d crafted an entire identity for both Jon and Martin and somehow managed to have Dr. Walter Koskiewicz declared Elias Bouchard’s sole heir. Publicly, that was who he was and who he remained, but on the day he’d assumed the position of Institute Head, he had called a meeting of all the department heads and bluntly, concisely, and completely told them the entire truth. He had left it up to each head whether or not to tell their staff everything—although he was emphatic that they be told about the Eye, at least to some extent—and had made it clear that anyone who wanted to quit would be more than welcome to do so, with full severance; he wouldn’t hold it against anyone who chose to leave. But, as he had told Martin that night when he got back from the Institute, he didn’t want anyone else feeling trapped, or to not know they were working for, essentially, a fear god. He’d been far more surprised than Martin when, out of eighty-seven employees, only three had chosen to leave and one had asked for their job back a week later.

Getting the rest of Elias’s estate had taken longer. Obviously there was no body, so what they technically had was a missing person. Surprisingly, it was Daisy who’d pushed that forward by manufacturing proof that he’d been killed in the explosion at Great Yarmouth, claiming she’d followed him there as part of her hunt for Gertrude Robinson’s murderer. When Tim, freshly back in the Archives, looked over the assortment of tapes that had previously been in the tunnels and unerringly plucked the one with Gertrude’s death on it, Daisy’s superiors decided that he was responsible for the House of Wax as well, closed both files, and declared him officially dead.

Jon told Martin that Jonah Magnus had terrible taste in interior decorating. Martin told him he would just have to take his word for it.

Martin tuned back into Jon’s speech as he caught the words that meant he was winding down. He’d been reluctant to agree to this event, especially given what today was, but it was expected, so he’d caved, with a few stipulations. The speech, unfortunately for Jon, was non-negotiable, but at least he was able to keep it fairly short.

“And so, as we move into our third century, I leave you with a few carefully chosen words,” Jon said. “To our Institute donors, I give these words: Thank you for your support of the Magnus Institute over the years, and I hope that you will continue to support us throughout the changes to come. To those who come to the Institute to study and learn, I give these words: Your work furthers ours as much as ours furthers yours, and we look forward to working with you and developing that relationship, now and well into the future. And to you, the Institute employees, those who make this Institute what it is, I give these words…” He paused for a moment, letting the suspense build, and Martin licked the corner of his mouth to hide his smirk. It was obvious from Jon’s voice, though, that he wasn’t bothering to hide his own. “Three-day weekend. See you all on Monday.”

The cheers, applause, and laughter nearly drowned out Jon’s “Thank you”, and Martin let his grin escape as he joined in the applause. He heard the rustling of fabric and guessed what was happening a split-second before Wade’s tap to his elbow told him for sure they were giving Jon a standing ovation.

It went on for nearly a minute solid before it started to die down, and as Martin slowly sank back into his seat, he felt Jon’s gloved fingers tangle in his.

“Almost done,” Martin murmured, knowing Jon was close to his breaking point but would never admit it.

There were a few closing remarks, and then footsteps came over to them. “All right, if you’ll just stand over this way and greet a few people…”

“No more than half an hour. I mean it, Harrison,” Jon warned.

“I know, Mr.—I mean Dr.—uh, sir,” Harrison stammered. “I promise.”

“Mister Doctor Sir?” Martin teased Jon as Harrison walked away. “Sounds like something you’d name a character in Spire.”

“That’s Mister Doctor Director Sir to you.”

They shared a laugh before Martin took a half-step back, cane folded up in one hand and his other resting discreetly against the small of Jon’s back. Jon took a deep breath and straightened himself up, but didn’t move away from the point of contact. They’d learned their lesson one of the first times Jon had had to do an official event. Martin did some of the bookkeeping and budgeting for the Institute—God knew he’d picked up enough being Peter Lukas’s assistant, and Jon knew bugger all about the business side of things—but for the most part, he wasn’t an employee and certainly wasn’t who the more important guests at these events wanted to talk to, so he’d stepped back and stayed quietly in the background. Unfortunately, the Lukases were still Institute donors, and even if they avoided Jon beyond the bare minimum that politeness dictated, the presence of even one was still enough for Martin to slip back into old habits. Thank God the bond Annabelle had put on them was still extant and he’d been able to pull himself back, but it had still been a scary few minutes for both of them.

Most of the donors who spoke to Jon—briefly, Harrison was being as good as his word about limiting the official greetings—either ignored Martin or only acknowledged him with a silent nod, which amounted to the same thing. For the most part, Martin didn’t mind, but he could tell it was getting to Jon long before the fifteen-minute mark.

“Last one, sir, I promise,” Harrison whispered at last.

“Harrison, I have told you about the ‘sir’ thing,” Jon muttered. Martin hastily turned his laugh into a cough.

“Dr. Koskiewicz, so good to see you again.” Martin couldn’t place the speaker’s voice except that it was posh, which meant it was an Institute donor, and loud. Probably belonged to a large man, almost certainly an older one.

“It’s an honor to have you here, Sir Henry,” Jon replied, his voice slightly strained. Martin guessed that the man had a very firm handshake; an ordinary hand would be swollen and sore after half an hour of shaking, but the scarring on Jon’s made it far worse. “And you as well, Lady Vane-Tempest.”

“Lovely party, darling, so kind of you to invite us,” Lady Vane-Tempest said. Her voice, at least, Martin couldn’t forget—well-bred, but harsh and grating at the same time. He’d met the Vane-Tempests at the Christmas “party” he’d been forced to run on behalf of Peter Lukas and had not enjoyed the experience. “Congratulations on two hundred years. Obviously you haven’t been here the whole time, of course!” She trilled with laughter.

Martin felt Jon stiffen, and then he said with forced politeness, “Thank whatever gods you believe in that I haven’t, madam.”

“Looking forward to touring the building,” Sir Henry said. “Understand you’ve got some new interesting new acquisitions in your Artifact Storage. Love to see them.”

“We’re not doing tours this evening, I’m afraid,” Jon said. “That was the end of the gala, but it’s good of you to come. If you’ll get in touch with Ms. Zampano, I’m sure we can arrange a suitable time for you to see the building.”

“Oh, come now, darling, surely you can spare some time now,” Lady Vane-Tempest coaxed. If Martin was any judge, she’d been imbibing freely of the champagne, enough to get at least slightly tipsy. “We’re so looking forward to it.”

“I do apologize, but I have another commitment this evening.” Martin was a bit startled when Jon’s arm slid around his waist, but he willingly shifted his own position to return the gesture. The smile in Jon’s voice was obvious; he’d never been very good at hiding his pride and delight in anything to do with their relationship. “It’s our first wedding anniversary, you see.”

The Vane-Tempests mumbled polite congratulations, wished Jon a good night, and moved away. Jon let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his toes and sagged against Martin. “Thank God that’s over with.”

“That’s the last one,” Harrison promised. “I’ll just go say a few words to the press. Have a good weekend and—um—happy anniversary?”

“Thank you,” Jon and Martin said in unison. Martin unfolded his cane, and they walked out of the Institute the same way they had since escaping Peter Lukas in their own time—arm in arm.

Ninety minutes later and Martin, wearing his most comfortable sweater and a soft, threadbare pair of jeans, walked into the room they had designated as the “living room” with two mugs of tea and set them on the heavy, solid coffee table. “How’s the hand?”

“Still a bit sore, but I’ll recover.” Jon’s voice sounded slightly muffled. Martin wasn’t sure why until he heard the soft crackle of burning wood, and then Jon was right next to him and pulling him down for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Martin murmured, brushing his nose against Jon’s. As he pulled back, he added, “By the way, there was a message from the agency. They’re coming by for another assessment tomorrow, around noon.”

“Good thing I gave everyone the day off, then. Did she say anything about how the application is looking?”

“I don’t know that they’d tell us that on a message. We can ask when she gets here.”

The doorbell rang with the deep, sonorous tones Martin still privately felt belonged in a Gothic soap opera, and Jon sighed and slid out of Martin’s arms. “Bets on who got here first?”

“Not against you,” Martin informed him. Jon’s snickers followed him out of the room.

After more than a year of living in the house, Martin knew his way around by heart, especially after they redid the flooring so that he could tell by the texture beneath his feet which way he was heading. He made it to the front door without bumping into anything, made sure the chain was still secure, and pulled the door open to the length of the chain. “Who goes there?”

“Just the usual suspects,” Tim’s voice said. “We even found a Sasha rattling around in the gutters.”

“Shut up, Tim,” Sasha said, a bit grouchily.

Martin chuckled and closed the door enough that he could undo the chain, then pulled the door open. “Come on in. There’s a fire going.”

Each one of them gave him a hug as they came in, prefaced by a greeting so he’d know who he was hugging. He was pleasantly surprised when, after a fierce hug from Melanie, he heard a higher voice say, “It’s Georgie. Will you accept one from me?”

“Oh, sure, of course.” Martin hadn’t worried about any of Jon’s exes, or anyone who might possibly catch his interest and remind him that he could do better, since—well, actually, since they’d been reunited after traveling back in time, but the weight of the ring on his left hand and the memory of the tremble in Jon’s voice as he’d promised ‘til death comes for us both had finally quieted the last of his doubts. And Georgie did give good hugs. “Glad you could make it, Georgie. Anyone else?”

“No, Basira pulled a night shift tonight, I think. Here, let me get that.” Georgie—or someone, anyway—pulled the heavy door shut and slid the chain into place. “Hope we’re not too early.”

Martin shook his head. “You’re fine. Not like we’re doing anything particularly exciting.”

It took a few minutes of arranging, playful debates, and mostly-joking grumblings about getting those disgusting socks away from the food, Timothy Stoker, but soon everyone was settled down with something to drink and a baked good from the basket the others had brought with them. Jon sighed with obvious pleasure and curled up against Martin’s side; Martin wrapped an arm around him and held him close.

“Where’s Charlie tonight?” he asked.

“Late rehearsal, and Sasha’s uncle offered to pick him up and watch him after,” Present Jon answered. “We’d have brought him along, but he’s got a maths exam tomorrow and I know he’s not ready for it.”

Tim laughed. “Come on, Jon, cut him some slack. He’s doing much better this term than he did in the spring.”

“To be fair,” Melanie pointed out, “there was kind of a lot going on in the spring.”

There was a hum of agreement before Georgie added, “From everything you lot told me, I didn’t expect that grandmother of his to fight you so hard on custody.”

Present Martin sighed heavily. “I did. I mean, the last thing she wanted was for people to think she was a terrible guardian, you know? Even if Children’s Services didn’t get involved and take him away, the very fact that someone else dared ask to take him—and the fact that Charlie wanted to go…”

“And the fact that you kept insisting on referring to him as him, despite the fact that she has consistently and for his entire life refused to accept that he’s a boy,” Sasha put in. “She’s a poisonous old witch and he’s lucky to be shed of her. But yeah, between that and the fact that he got anxious and panicky and afraid to let any of you out of his sight—you know, at the beginning of April—it’s no wonder he came close to failing the spring term.”

There was a short pause before Present Martin asked carefully, “Did he tell you that, or…?”

“Oh, goddammit,” Sasha sighed. “He didn’t say anything to any of you about that, did he?”

“No, but we should have noticed,” Present Jon said quietly.

Melanie snorted. “I’m not sure how you would have, considering how clingy the three of you were being.”

Martin tightened his arms around Jon as the Archives crew began bickering, mostly lightheartedly but with an undercurrent of seriousness. During their first time experiencing…well, everything they had experienced…he and Jon had never really had a chance to stop and consider anniversaries. The one-year anniversary of Jane Prentiss attacking the Institute had fallen while they were trying to get ready for the Unknowing; the one-year anniversary of that had been while Martin was still having to avoid Jon, but he remembered staring at his reflection in the mirror and wondering if he would be better off calling out of work or if he should go in and lurk in the shadows of the Archives to reassure himself that Jon was actually still there. Passing the anniversaries—or, for that matter, the dates themselves—in a timeline where they didn’t technically happen hadn’t made things significantly better, so he could definitely understand why the present crew had been reluctant to be far from each other a year after so nearly losing one another, and more particularly nearly losing Tim.

Jon sank against him, also clinging tightly, and let the banter go on for a bit before he broke in. “Have you told Charlie about the trip?”

“We’re going to surprise him after school tomorrow,” Tim said, and Martin was pretty sure he could hear the relief in it. “Hope he likes the plan. He’s been asking to come with us the next time we go out of town since Jon got back from Jonah’s little hell-quest, and I don’t think he’s ever been out of London.”

“Well…you weren’t conscious at the time, but they did bring him to visit while you were…” Present Jon’s voice trailed off.

Martin was about to say something when something solid and heavy hit his leg on four tiny pressure points and screamed. Only six months of practice enabled him not to jump completely out of his skin. “Hello, Duchess.”

“Oh, damn, I didn’t feed them before the gala.” Jon carefully disentangled himself from Martin and removed the solid iron weight masquerading as a ball of fur from his lap. “Come along, Your Grace. What have you done with your sister?”

Martin couldn’t help the soft smile that touched his lips as he stared off in the direction Jon had gone. Hearing him talk to the cats in that tone of voice always did something funny to his insides.

The smirk in Melanie’s voice was obvious. “I genuinely can’t decide which one of you is going to be the bigger pushover when you get approved to adopt.”

“Have you heard anything yet?” Present Martin asked.

“There’s another visit scheduled tomorrow. We’re almost four months into this part of the process. I’m hoping we’ll have an answer soon.” Martin picked up his mug of tea and took a sip. It had started to cool a bit, but it was still drinkable. “Not that we’re in a hurry or anything, but it’d be nice to know, you know?”

“I could probably poke at your social worker’s mind and see if they have an answer,” Sasha offered. “It’d be easy.”

“Sasha, we’ve talked about this,” Present Jon said with an audible frown.

“Yeah, if I can manage to keep myself under control…” Tim trailed off. “Sorry, Georgie. I know you’d rather we didn’t talk about it.”

“It’s fine,” Georgie said with a sigh. “I’m getting used to it. It’s not like any of you can just…stop being what you are. Did—um—did your Georgie have a problem with it?”

It was the first time she’d asked about her past self since being introduced to Jon and Martin over a year ago, and Martin couldn’t explain why it felt so weird. “She did. At first, anyway. But I think it was less the whole…supernatural fear thing and more the fact that we—and particularly Jon—kept acting like nothing was wrong.”

“Yeah. At least you lot admit this is messed up.”

“Not so much the admitting it’s messed up as trying from the get-go not to play into it,” Jon’s voice said from the direction of the kitchen. The loveseat bounced slightly—very slightly—as he sat down, leaned into Martin’s side, and kissed his cheek. “Your cat is a menace.”

“Why is she only my cat when she’s misbehaving?” Martin teased, turning his head to capture Jon’s lips with his own before they moved away. “What’s Cosmic done now?”

“Just the fact that you know it was Cosmic Creepers—”

“The Duchess has made it very clear that she’s your cat.”

Sasha gave a mock-groan. “You two as actual parents are going to be insufferable.”

Melanie’s snort was practically elephantine. “Like you don’t have the three of these with Charlie as evidence for that.”

Martin sensed the remark calculated to cause maximum chaos coming before Tim opened his mouth, but there was nothing he could do to head him off. “So, Melanie, when are you and Georgie going to add a bundle of joy to your family?”

The resultant storm of profanity and invective directed at Tim sent Jon into paroxysms of laughter, and from the sound of it, Present Jon as well. Martin could imagine Tim’s triumphant, shit-eating grin. Even Sasha was giggling.

“Seriously. I don’t even want more than one cat,” Georgie finally said when the chaos wound down. “Children have never been in my plans. Not even remotely.”

“Have you ever thought about fostering?” Present Martin asked. “Teens, maybe? I bet you’d be good at it.”

A short silence followed the question, and when Melanie answered, there was a note of surprise in her voice. “Maybe. Not right now, though.”

“I guess my question is—and please, none of you take this the wrong way—why would you want to involve a child in the…life you’re all leading?” Georgie asked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

“No more than being a child is dangerous anyway,” Jon said. “Most of the fears don’t…a child’s fear isn’t fully formed, so it’s not as satisfying, but that doesn’t mean they don’t pay attention. I was marked young. So was Annabelle Cane. Callum Brodie was on the Dark’s radar long before Rayner chose him as a vessel. A-apparently the End was paying attention to all of us before my father died. A child being taken care of by someone who knows what’s out there, and isn’t…enamored with it, I suppose, stands a better chance than a child wholly unprepared.”

Martin rubbed Jon’s arm. “Besides. The more connections you have outside the Archives, the harder it is for the Fears to…use you. I guess. Even besides the Lonely, the more isolated you are, the easier you are to hurt.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Present Jon said, sounding like he was talking half to himself. “But it does make sense why Jonah tried so hard to pit us against one another. A person with no support is far more vulnerable. Far easier to use and manipulate.”

“And that’s what beat him in the end,” Melanie said. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Hear, hear.” Martin raised his mug in salute. Someone clinked a mug or glass against it, and the conversation drifted to other, less volatile topics.

They’d done this a lot over the last year. Ever since Jon, or his alter ego, had officially inherited the estate, they spent more evenings and weekends here than they did in Tim, Present Martin, and Present Jon’s house. First there’d been the intense repainting and redecorating period, during which Martin had offered deadpan commentary on color choices until Jon threatened to paint his mouth shut and Tim had unearthed more than a few artifacts belonging to other entities in various nooks and crannies. Once they were settled in, there had been pizza and pasta-making parties, movie marathons, drinks after hard weeks, and game nights. They’d come over to wrestle the garden into submission in the spring, helped decorate the house for Christmas, and watched fireworks on New Year’s from the widow’s walk on the roof. Jon had even organized an Easter Egg hunt for the neighborhood children, which had been when Martin had finally broached the idea of reaching out to the local authority about beginning the adoption process.

And exactly one year ago tonight, they had stood in the drawing room they never otherwise used and finally, finally made the bond between them a legal one.

“I can’t believe you two are spending your anniversary like this,” Sasha said, and if Martin didn’t know for a fact that she couldn’t read his mind beyond finding a back door into his dreams when Jon’s lay alongside her, he’d have told her off for it. “You’re such hopeless romantics, I expected you to go out for a candlelit dinner somewhere. Moonlit stroll in the park. Kissing under the stars.”

“It’s Thursday,” Martin reminded her.

“We’re going to Scotland for the weekend,” Jon said. “That’s part of the reason I gave everyone a three-day weekend, so we could get an early start and make the most of it.”

“I accuse you of abusing your position for your own gain,” Georgie said, but she was laughing as she did so.

“I’ll confess to that,” Jon replied immediately. Martin couldn’t help but laugh. “But seriously, we—it’s going to be a nice, relaxing weekend, but we thought spending the evening with our family would be a good start.”

Something thumped down on the coffee table. Martin guessed it was Melanie’s glass. “You know what I can’t believe? That you picked the eighteenth of October to get married. I mean, you know literally everything in the world, and certainly everything about the Institute. You had to know that was the day the Institute was founded. And then you had to spend your first anniversary making nice with the donors. Why would you do that?”

Martin looked in Jon’s direction. “You want to tell them, or shall I?”

Jon sighed heavily and dropped his head to Martin’s shoulder. “You go ahead. I’d rather not say it out loud.”

“Uh-oh.” Tim sounded worried. “This is…what happened on the eighteenth of October, 2017 in your timeline?”

“Bugger all,” Martin replied. “It was today. In our original timeline, this was when Jonah slipped his ritual into a statement and fed it to Jon against his will. Eighteenth October, 2018.” He ran his hand through Jon’s hair, which had fallen out of its braid. “We didn’t want to wait until this year to get married, but we’d already agreed that we wanted it to be the eighteenth. We wanted to take back the day Jonah Magnus tried to ruin and make it ours.”

“To replace the memories,” Present Martin said softly.

“Exactly. He’s taken too damn much from us already. We’re not letting him have everything.” Martin pressed a kiss to the top of Jon’s head.

“So where in Scotland are you going?” Present Jon asked.

“John O’Groats. It’s—Daisy used to have a safehouse up there,” Jon explained. “Well, she still has the house, but she’s just renting it out to vacationers these days. She told us we could use it for free a couple times a year as a thank-you for helping her get the Hunt under control.”

“Yeah, Basira says she’s a lot more relaxed than she was when she was a cop,” Sasha said. “If you can believe it. Is that where you two stayed…um, up until the eighteenth of October?”

“Yep.” Martin popped the P in a method that, he hoped, would indicate the subject is closed and you should not push further, Sasha James.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. Georgie was the next to speak up. “What about you three? Do you have plans for your trip to America or is it just more of a ramble?”

“We were planning to visit Boston,” Present Martin answered. “Lots of history, lots of walking trails, lots of potentially haunted stuff. But…well, Jon changed things around a couple weeks ago and he’s been vague about what we’re doing now.”

“Oh.” Present Jon sounded both embarrassed and excited. “I—ah—I’m sorry, I got so…I completely forgot I hadn’t told you. I managed to track down my cousin. You know, the one I stayed with for a bit before starting uni? He moved to a new town about the time I started at the Institute, actually. Apparently he’s married now. His husband sounds…um, interesting. And he wants to meet you two—and Charlie, too. I actually managed to get us tickets out there. I—I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind getting the chance to meet a relative that not only doesn’t hate you, but doesn’t care you’re in a relationship with two other men and is excited about the idea of meeting us? Of course we do, it sounds horrific, why would you do something like that,” Tim said flatly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Jon, we’d love to meet your cousin.”

“It’ll be fun,” Present Martin agreed. “Did you ever…I mean, have you met him?”

It took Martin a second to realize the question was directed at him. “Honestly, until you all started talking about him, I didn’t even know Jon had a cousin.”

“I’d love to see him again,” Jon said, a bit wistfully. “I do miss him. I suppose asking you to pass on my best wishes would be a little much, but…”

“I’m going to tell him,” Present Jon said softly. “About all of this. I think he deserves to know, and…I think he can handle it.”

“Well. Give me a call if you get the chance. I’d love to talk to him.”

“Of course.” Present Jon hesitated. “I—um, I think he might have a couple…statements. Something about the way he said ‘scientifically interesting’ when talking about the town. I’m going to tell him about…this, and us, and what we can do. Let him decide if he wants to share.”

Jon made a slightly pained noise, but Martin rubbed his arm soothingly and said, “You’ll probably need something. At least Tim will. That’s—you’ll be too far from the Institute for too long not to take a statement or two. Better if it’s someone willing, wouldn’t you say?”

Tim took a deep breath. “Does it ever get any easier? Needing to—sensing in your case, or seeing in mine, that someone has a statement, and needing it so badly?”

“Not really,” Jon admitted. “It’s why I don’t go out alone so often. The trouble is that sometimes it helps them and sometimes it…doesn’t, and you can never tell before they tell their stories whether it will or not. The Eye likes it better when it’s…forced, but the Eye can honestly get stuffed. We’re doing this on our terms.”

“Hell yeah,” Tim said with a laugh. Jon leaned forward at Martin’s side, and from the sounds, he guessed they were bumping their fists together.

They spent about another hour together, talking and laughing and generally relaxing. Finally, though, Present Martin asked, “How early were you two planning to head out?”

“Not until early afternoon. The social worker is coming, remember?” Martin shrugged. “But if you lot want to get going…”

“Yes, we—we should probably make sure Charlie’s in bed, and I’m sure Wade is ready to be released,” Present Jon said. There were a number of rustles and creaks as everyone got to their feet, and Martin stood, too, stretching out his spine. “Call us when you get there.”

“We will. Let us know when you get to America,” Jon replied.

“Are you taking the cats, or do you want us to stop by and look after them?” Melanie asked.

Martin paused and looked in Jon’s direction. He could practically feel his thoughts flowing between them, running through the bond Annabelle had put on them like a telegraph wire. “Well, we were going to take them, but…actually, would you mind?”

“Of course not. We’d be delighted,” Georgie said.

Jon squeezed Martin’s waist, then slid away. “Come here, then, let me show you where we keep the food.”

Martin saw the others to the door and handed out another round of hugs. Jon arrived with Georgie just before they pulled away, so was at least able to wave, and he hugged both Georgie and Melanie and thanked them again. And then it was just the two of them, alone in their house, and together.

Jon shut and latched the door, then took Martin’s hand. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“Mm-hmm. Close your eyes and follow me.”

Martin smiled more broadly, but he did as Jon asked. Jon led him through the house and up three flights of stairs. It somehow didn’t surprise Martin when Jon pushed open a final door and he heard the soft sounds of an autumn evening.

“Stargazing?” he teased.

“It is a good night for it,” Jon said, not rising to the bait. “But no, not what I had in mind.” He tugged Martin forward a few feet, then added, “You can open your eyes now.”

Martin didn’t point out that it wouldn’t do any good; he simply opened his eyes. He could smell roses and peonies, he thought—the same flowers they’d decorated the drawing room with for their wedding. There was a soft click, and a tape recorder began playing—which made him smile—and then Jon was there and holding his hands. “Can I have this dance?”

Martin’s smile broadened as he recognized the song. “For the rest of your life.”

Martin let Jon lead him, singing quietly along with the music as he did so. He was still barefoot and it was a bit cold on the widow’s walk for that, but he didn’t care. It was the song they’d chosen as their first dance at their wedding, something of a fast waltz, but the lyrics had struck both of them as being so very them. As soon as Martin realized that, he also realized that this was probably the tape Tim had made for them to play at their wedding. It had been their way of ensuring that Annabelle, if she was still listening, would be able to be a part of things, too.

They still made a point of shooing out spiders and cleaning out cobwebs, but the tapes? Those could stay.

When the first song was over, rather than let Jon go, Martin simply shifted his grip and took the lead for the second song on the tape—the first song they had ever danced to, in Tim and Present Martin and Present Jon’s kitchen the night they’d moved in. He pulled Jon closer, letting their foreheads touch, and sang along to that one as well. He could feel Jon shiver in his arms and knew, knew, it wasn’t the cold that was doing it.

They slowed to a stop just before the song ended. Jon slid his arms around Martin’s neck and simply held him; Martin wrapped his around Jon’s waist and pulled him even closer until their bodies were flush, until they were practically fused into a single person.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” Jon whispered back. “Happy anniversary, Martin.”

“Happy anniversary.” Martin leaned forward and kissed him thoroughly.

Jon kissed him back, deeply and intensely and with all the emotions they had built up between them over the years: loneliness and desperation and fear, love and tenderness and hope. They had fought their damnedest for a moment they thought would never come, and now that it had, Martin was going to savor it. This and every other moment that ever could be.

At last, the need for air forced them to separate, and Jon laughed quietly. “You know what I didn’t think through about this?”

“We’re still barefoot?” Martin guessed.

“We are still barefoot,” Jon agreed. “And I’m still rather…worn out from the day. What do you say we go inside, shut the cats in their room for the night, and make use of that oversized tub in the downstairs bath?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” Martin said. He kissed Jon again, very softly, and then stepped back. “Lead on, Mr. Blackwood-Sims.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Blackwood-Sims,” Jon drawled. He stopped the tape with a gentle click, then laced his fingers through Martin’s, the metal of his wedding band smooth and cool against his fingers as it rolled over the webbing between them. “Come on, my love.”

Hand-in-hand, Martin and Jon, the man he’d loved for years, the man he’d fought for, fought with, the reason he had survived apocalypse after apocalypse, his anchor—his husband—turned away from the world they had somehow managed to save and into their home, into the future they had made.

Together.

[atelier-dayz]

The Conception and History of AtaLao

This is just a post for me to ramble on about how Ata and Lao (and Asha but he’s like 1/2 not an OC) got started as OCs and recount some of their history leading up to their roles in Under the Desert Sky. So for the one or two of you interested in reading this: 

(GIF from awhiteshirt)

It’s long and convoluted so everything is under the ‘read more’ link.

Otherwise, just carry on scrolling through your dash! 8D

The Beginning

To talk about the start of AtaLao, I first need to talk (briefly) about Rogue One and The Lost Bladesman. 

So I watched Rogue One and fell deep into Chirrut/Baze. That of course meant watching movies that Donnie Yen (DY) and Jiang Wen (JW) were in, which included The Lost Bladesman. 

The Lost Bladesman was set during China’s Three Kingdoms period and starred DY as Guan Yu (GY) and JW as Cao Cao (CC). And lemme just say, in this movie (and in several other Romance of the Three Kingdoms adaptations, including at least one of the Dynasty Warriors games), CC is HELLA THIRSTY for GY. Which kicked off an interest in CC/GY and led me and two friends to evocates’ phenomenal Romance of the Three Kingdoms/The Lost Bladesman series a guide to (dis)honouring your deities which had an interesting approach to A/B/O. 

Between that fic series and the many Hong Kong triad films and old “classic” HK films we watched, my friends and I ended up writing an A/B/O HK Triad AU in which CC was the head of a recently resurrected triad trying to protect/build up their home-city, while GY was one of the few good cops in a (obviously) corrupt system. 

Anyways, getting to the AtaLao part... 

On the left is General Zhang Liao, who acts as CC’s right-hand man in The Lost Bladesman. So naturally, he became CC’s second-in-command in our Triad AU! And look! He is, in fact, Asha! 8D Hence why I say Asha technically is and isn’t an OC LOL

As our Triad AU grew bigger, we added three “elders” to CC’s triad, people who had been important members of the triad before its collapse (due to the police) and were pulled back out of hiding when CC resurrected the triad. One of them, we decided, would be Elder (Ata) Zhang, Asha’s father. (Which was how CC also met Asha.) Elder Zhang had been The Accountant for the triad pre-collapse, knew where all the money in the triad was and went, highly trusted and held in high esteem. He was never arrested by the police, though they did pull him into interrogation once with...not great results for them. (Keeping this PG with minimal violence LOL I can talk about this another time if anyone is interested.)

I, on a whim, decided Elder Zhang’s facecast would be...

Tony Leung because it’s Tony Leung. 

CC had his work cut out convincing Elder Zhang and Asha to support his bid for lead of the triad. *nods*

But what happened to Elder Zhang’s mate? Asha’s other parent? (Lao?) 

(Aside: Andy Lau as his facecast because I LOVE HIM. And he and Tony Leung have SUCH AMAZING CHEMISTRY and ALL THE FODDER for me to use for inspiration, but I’ll stop myself here before I pic spam.)

WELL. 

He died when Asha was about 5 or 6. He was shot and killed by the police while he and Ata were out on a date under suspicion of being a triad member. (”He has the face of a gangster,” they said.) The irony is, he is actually a normal civilian, a low-level architect, and has nothing to do with the triad other than being Ata’s husband.

Thus, by the time our AU took place, Lao hadn’t been present for...over 30 years and was only rarely referenced as a near mythical figure. (;﹏;)

So there we have the beginnings of AtaLao. 

Their backstory makes me incredibly sad all the time. Especially when I think about their childhood/courtship and their dreams and plans for their future. I have lots of art drawn, content made, and thousands of words written for them so just say the word and I’ll share LOL

Proper AtaLao

What do I mean by ‘proper’ AtaLao? Well, when we were working on the Triad AU, none of the characters outside of the canon characters GY, CC, etc had names; we just abbreviated actors’ names. (Asha was just called Zhang. Ata was Elder Zhang. Lao was AL.)

Sooo that brings me back to Rogue One and....

The Ascension of the Lord of Imwe *jazz hands*

With so much inspiration material thanks to the movies DY and JW were in (and because I’m a martial arts nut), I started writing a Chirrut/Baze epic wuxia AU titled the above. It involved Chirrut inheriting the title of Lord (Baze as his right-hand / retainer), a power struggle between households to gain/hold the favor of the Emperor, and the Imwe household working to prove the murder of Chirrut’s father. (It is not posted anywhere. Don’t think it’ll ever see the light of day, but it exists. LOL) 

Since the story involved such a huge cast, I thought, why not pull in Zhang to help Baze with security. And if I’m gonna bring in Zhang, I should bring in Ata and Lao! And give them a happy ending. ;u;

And as it turned out, Ata worked perfectly to serve as a parallel for Chirrut (and AtaLao for Chirrut/Baze). 

(And this part, you’ll notice, I took to fill in his backstory in Under the Desert Sky.) Ata Zhang was the firstborn son of a prominent family, but he was born mute (a reference to an...incident in Triad AU) and treated poorly because of it. He would have been selected to inherit the family title, but was passed over for his “normal” younger brother. He took over the family’s bookkeeping (a reference to his role as The Accountant), and later, bowed to their wishes to an arranged marriage, from which he got Asha. 

(Chirrut is the firstborn son of the Imwe family, fully expected not to inherit the title because of his originally sickly constitution and failing eyesight. To the surprise and consternation of many, he did in fact inherit the title.)

As for Lao, he was an orphan taken in by the Zhang family and initially raised to be a servant, before they switched him to security. He met Ata when they were tiny children, and he accidentally found Ata crying over the way people were treating him. Lao ended up promising to always protect Ata, and eventually becomes Ata’s personal bodyguard. 

Please know there’s a LOT of PINING, and longing looks, and knowing they have feelings for each other but never acting on them, and then there’s Ata’s marriage, and baby Asha imprinting like a duckling on Lao, and-- aaaaaaaaah (　ﾟДﾟ)＜!!!!!!!!!!!

Eventually though, as I reference in Under the Desert Sky, Ata’s wife leaves, causing a scandal, and the family takes their displeasure out on Asha, which is the last straw for Ata. He takes Asha and leaves, but of course Lao goes with him. They finally work things out, and when we see them in the fic, they’re an old(ish) married couple who joined the Imwe household along with Asha to protect Ata from his younger brother, who is trying to assasinate him to secure his leadership in the family. 

That is AtaLao. 

(Please look at this picture of them that my dear friend Kei / kannibal on here and twitter drew for me and that has been my phone wallpaper ever since. ♡ฅ(ᐤˊ꒳ฅˋᐤ♪))

And since they already were in a fic with Chirrut and Baze, I figured, why not include them in Under the Desert Sky, an actual SW divergent AU and not just something wildly AU LOL And it works out perfectly as a pseud-parallel(?) with Ata as a Guardian, Lao as a Mando vs Obi as a Jedi, Jango the Mando. d(￣◇￣)b

Other Existing Iterations of AtaLao

I will keep this brief in the form of bullet points:

Infernal Affairs AU - After watching Infernal Affairs, I had to, had to write a mash up of it and our Triad AU. In it, Ata is still an accountant for the Triad, but was planted by the police. Lao is the mole the triad places among the police. Ata and Lao have a sort of missed connection history when they meet in the fic. I do want to finish it someday because I love what I have written so far. Maybe for the zine I’m hypothetically making one day...

In addition to Triad AU, we also ended up creating an epic high fantasy/Three Kingdoms AU and made two additional variations on top of it. The Main AU involved Lao as a High Priest and healer who ends up mentoring one of the Emperors’ daughters in the healing arts, while Ata is a major in the Emperor’s army who ends up leading a lot of supernatural investigations alongside Lao. 

Modern AU is a urban fantasy version of the high fantasy AUs, with everyone in similar roles, just updated for the modern age. 

AAAAND THAT’S IT. I’ll do a post on AtaLao in Under the Desert Sky sometimes since I know their backstory won’t be much of a focus in the fic. :)

PS I ended up making a little diagram to make sense of the AUs that ended up popping up in what order and from what influence. Not sure it’s actually helpful to anyone but here is it: 

[cryoculus]

More love for Semi please? Anything will do, your writing is exquisite in any form anyway :D

» Word Count: 1,857 wordsCross-posted on AO3

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE :(( I actually wrote three chapters’ worth of content for him already and you can read the whole thing on the ao3 link.(NOTE: This is based on the current events of the final arc of the Haikyuu manga. I tagged it as a spoiler but I won’t really go into the specifics of what’s going on. Semi is our main focus here ^__^)

—

“Please?”

“No,” was your flat reply.

Semi heaved a long sigh, mouth twitching into an irritated grimace. You returned his reaction with a sassy look of your own—one, finely penciled brow quirked as bright, red lips rivalled the adamance that Semi brought about. While you were in no position to tell him to just go back to his cubicle and get today’s work done (you, sadly, held the same position in office), you at least had the right to turn him down. Your department had a monthly financial report coming up. Why on Earth did he want your help writing a song?

“Come on,” he groaned. “You know I’d eat my fist first before asking for your help, but our manager really digs your old pieces from college.”

Your eye twitched.

“Way to beg for someone’s aid in a time of dire need,” you bit back sarcastically. “Go do it then.”

“What?”

“Eat your whole fist.�� You gave him a pointed look, even making a show of paying attention by putting your pen down.

Your co-worker let out a frustrated groan, fingers carding through his messy, ashen hair. The gesture made the tattoos on his chest visible for a second, before disappearing again behind his barely done button-up. It was a mystery, how a man like him made it as a public servant—with his flamboyant piercings and tip-dyed hair—but you supposed you should learn to look past physical appearances. The agency allowed it, so why should you make a fuss?

Ah, right. Semi Eita was the most hot-headed man in your department, and he had a knack for picking fights with you.

“If you get the balance sheet done by five o'clock, I might reconsider,” you told him, not really meaning the words, as you directed your attention back at the paperwork on your desk. Balance sheets are the toughest to fill out, since the data needed had to be collated from different sectors of the city. You highly doubted that Semi, with his thinner-than-a-strand-of-hair patience, could finish it in one sitting.

“Deal.”

Your gaze hardened as you looked back up at him. “Come again?”

“Are you deaf?” he asked, folding lean arms across his chest. “I said it’s a deal.”

You couldn’t help the snort that made its way past your lips. Whatever his reasons may be, it was painfully obvious that he was desperate. But still. You knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry out the deed in your given deadline, but instead of talking him out of his own agreement, you merely shook your head in acceptance.

Semi eventually stalked off to his cubicle; the one just in front of yours. There was a divider that separated each employee’s workspace from the others, and it at least granted some semblance of privacy from outside gazes. You’ve been to Semi’s cubicle a couple of times—more to coordinate paperwork than engage in conversation, really—and he decorated his personal space exactly how a part-time rock band vocalist would. Though he didn’t exactly put up posters and painted the walls black, he added his own flair to his desk with guitar figurines, neon stickers on his desktop, and a photo of his bandmates enclosed in a sparkly picture frame.

The only reason you bothered looking so closely was the fact that you also went to the same university together (under the same degree, too!) You’ve always been keen around him, with his loud way of living, as opposed to you, who’s always chosen to live simply and without pretentiousness. Sure, the disparity between your lifestyles had caused you to be at each other’s throats since freshman year, but it was still a surprise that your synergy was top notch. You would, as Semi put it so delicately, eat your fist first before admitting to the fact, but it’s a given that you preferred to work with him instead of other, unfamiliar people.

You sighed, brandishing a bored look at the bleak document in front of you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to help him out…

But when you recalled every time he’s talked over you during board meetings, sneered at you when he got a higher score during exams, and his distateful behavior in general, you steeled your resolve.

Either he’s going to get that balance sheet over with or he’ll keel over. If he wanted your help, he’s going to have to work for it.

—

You were in the middle of fixing your belongings when the sound of a stack of papers hitting your desk rang in your ears.

“There,” Semi said breathlessly, making you look up at him in surprise. He even tossed a flash drive on top of the papers he deposited, where you saw the city hall’s heading printed in full color. You reluctantly checked your phone for the time. 16:57, it said, in a mockingly bold typeface before shoving it in your pocket.

The damn guy really did get it done before five.

“The electronic document is saved in there, in case you lose the print.” He was panting at this point, and you had a vague idea as to why he looked like he just ran a marathon. The one printer in your department (this year’s budget was cut) broke down a few days ago, and the nearest functional one was at the Logistics office three floors down.

Still refusing to believe it, you peered at the documents he just brought in. You scanned each of the entries printed on each page. That’s when you realized that Sendai City’s expenses have skyrocketed since the new year because the list of expenses occupied a whole page alone. A worried sigh made its way past your lips, but at least the liabilities were cut down to a minimum. You heard that the governor of Miyagi was going to pledge a few hundred thousand yen for the city’s founding anniversary, too.

You paused. Blinking, you rearranged the papers neatly back into its pile—biting back the urge to clutch your wounded pride. Semi was looking at you expectantly, like he wanted you to praise his flawless bookkeeping.

In actuality, his determination was beginning to freak you out.

“Why do you want me to help you so badly?” you asked, voice almost trembling. “Seriously, dude. I thought we hated each other. Quit acting out of character.”

“I told you, our manager really liked the songs you composed back in senior year,” he drawled, tired of having to repeat himself.

Your face twisted in confusion. “Who even is this manager of yours?”

There was a half-second delay in his response, but before you could paint a reason for his hesitation, he immediately replied with, “Saito. Saito Makoto.”

You stiffened, gaze going rigid at the mention of that name. “Oh.”

“Yeah. If I manage to give him a piece by the end of the month, he’ll help us sign a contract with a big-shot record label,” Semi explained, oblivious to your discomfort.

“But haven’t you been writing songs since high school?” you wondered aloud. “That’s what you said during our Pol-Gov class ice breaker.”

He frowned. “You still remember that?”

Okay. You kept forgetting that your sharp memory wasn’t always a praiseworthy thing. You gulped, feeling the heat creep up your face. “Um, anyway, the point still stands. You’ve been writing songs for God-knows-how-long, and while I’m not one to dish out compliments especially to you, I’m pretty sure they’re okay if you managed to gather a decent fanbase.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning against the divider of your cubicle. “We’re a rock band. I write rock songs, but Saito wants me to write a goddamn love song.”

Typical Saito. Though he looked like a rugged high school delinquent, he was awfully sentimental when it came to music. He was the one who inspired you to write the songs Semi was pestering you about all day after all…

“Fine,” you relented. “I never go back on my word and since you did a…good job with this, I’ll help you out.”

His light brown eyes lit up for a moment, but Semi managed to mask his relief in a split second—containing his excitement in a single nod. “Are you free this Saturday? You can come by my place and we could start getting to work.”

Well, that was forward of him. You expected to work on the song in a coffee shop or something, but he went on ahead and invited you to his own humble abode anyway. You parsed through your weekend plans in your mind, and once you confirmed that you were free, you scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note. Almost five years of acquaintance and you’d never bothered giving it to him. Huh.

“Just text me the time and place,” you told him, pocketing the flash drive as you slipped the balance sheet in one of the empty folders in your organizer. “You better not pull anything funny and lead me to a secluded alley or something.”

Semi scoffed, folding the piece of paper and sticking it inside his trousers. “As if.”

You then slung your bag across your shoulders, grinning insincerely. “Glad we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

With that, Semi exited your cubicle, leaving you no room to wonder why he didn’t even spare a quick ‘thank you’.

Just as you were smoothing out the creases on your pencil skirt, your phone began buzzing in the pocket of your blazer. Brows raised, you fished it out and unlocked it.

From: Makohey, wanna grab some dinner? its on me :3

Speak of the devil. You swallowed the lump in your throat, fingers shakily managing to type a coherent reply.

To: MakoYeah sure. Where to tho

From: Makocan we get some italian? ik u love the udon place across the street but akane’s having dinner w her friends there

From: Makocant have her seeing us together now do we

The way he put that so casually made your chest constrict with a too-familiar sensation. You heaved a deep breath, pursing your lips into a thin line as you sent a quick “Ok” text to end your conversation. Saito replied with those iffy heart-eyed emojis that he only ever used when he wanted something from you, and you had to compose yourself so you wouldn’t burst into tears right there.

“Oi.”

You almost jumped at the sound of Semi’s voice as he peered inside your cubicle once more. He clutched his suitcase in one hand, eyeing you curiously.

“What do you want?”

“You’re headed uptown, too, right?” he asked, and you nodded reluctantly. “Thought you’d want a lift.”

“Semi, just because I’m helping you achieve your dreams, doesn’t mean you have to be nice to me.” You laughed softly, tension easing from his uncalled for kindness.

He, however, looked unconvinced. “Do you want a ride or not?”

You raised your hands in defeat, managing a genuine smile. “Alright, fine. It’ll be a hellish commute anyway.”

You liked to think that that’s how you started becoming friends with your odd, hot-headed co-worker.

[dreams-in-mist]

Hey, everybody. Who wants to see some super vintage, really low-quality footage of an incredibly hot guy?

Ok, so I am dating myself with this post BIG TIME.

Anyone who views this page on the reg knows that I enjoy sharing images of beautiful people I admire here, but usually without much jibber-jabber about them (and it's probably better that way). But I came across something today that jogged special feelings, and maybe some of you out there may appreciate it.

Come with me, gentle reader, to the summer/fall of 1996. I, along with my little sister, had given up summer break to stay far away from home to help my mother to take care of my ailing grandparents Monday through Friday every week (my aunt cared for them Sat & Sun, mostly since she did their bookkeeping, otherwise we would've lived there 24/7). I loved them with all my heart, and though I enjoyed spending so much time with them, I'm sure you can understand that, with failing health, it was not always quality time. I had also brought along a summer course to try to get a leg up for the next school year, because I assumed I would have plenty of downtime when they were resting (sis & I were home-schooled at the time anyway). The summer turned out to be much more stressful than any of us could have anticipated.

Between homecare (which I totally thought I was prepared for -- and I SO wasn't), seeing people you adore in a terrible state, and the added burden of trying to do schoolwork at the same time, I felt hollow. We would come back home late on Friday nights drained physically, mentally, and completely. My step-father would pick us up, take us back home, and usually cook supper, or pick up some special take-out, or treats to try to soothe some of the stress. If you've never been through it, let me tell you, one of the hardest things in the world to do is watch as someone you love is dying, and you know there's nothing you can do to stop the pain; all you can do is lessen it for a short period of time.

Dad knew this, so he tried the best he could to make the weekends as much of an escape from the preceding week as we could have at home, until eventually, the weekends were gone, and we 3 would only come home intermittently. Things got very difficult.

We got home late one night, and basically all collapsed with exhaustion. The next day, on his way out the door for work (Dad worked 3 jobs), he makes a comment or asks a question or something about me leaving a videotape in the player. I have no idea what he's talking about, so I play the tape anyway. It was the video I'm sharing with you today. It seems silly, I'm sure.

My Dad is a kinda tough guy, biker-type. At the time, I was 99.999999999% sure that he had only the vaguest idea of what my crush looked like (and honestly, circa 1992-1997, the guy had barely been a blip on most of North America's radar - pictures and media were very hard to come by), and had possibly heard me mention his name maaayyybe twice (it was generally an argument for me to bring up boys -- let alone MEN, as the case may be).

So, imagine my surprise when I play this tape. I don't know how he did it. I mean, I know how the process is done, but seriously...did he look in the TV Guide? Was he surfing channels and heard my crush's name, and then waited for, I dunno, a butt-hundred minutes for him to finally appear?

The point is, this guy watched probably ALL Siempre en Domingo AND Sabado Gigante to record the interview and musical segments of my (at the time, kind of obscure) crush -- and, uh... we don't speak Spanish, guys. Nada . And it was so nice to find this when I was unpacking, and relive that feeling of knowing that Dad could've watched some football, watched some rasslin', gone out for a chicken dinner, idk, done ANYTHING ELSE, but he, on at least 2 separate occasions, took time out to make something just for me that he knew I would enjoy, even if he didn't like it/couldn't understand it (he had surprises for my mother and sister, too, but I couldn't tell you what they were). This gesture, though requiring very little in the way of physical or even emotional effort, was just the pick-me-up I needed to reset, at least for a couple hours, and it was so nice to be back there, in that moment for a short while today. It really is about the little things.

As for the clip itself, the quality is poor, you don't have to tell me this. The videotape itself was already used (he had taped over one of his shows...bless), and by now it's over 20 years old. Add to that the fact that it got a lot of love back in the day. Like I said, this crush was not really that well-known at the time, so this video was really all I had outside of photos, clippings, and watching soap operas. Further add to that the fact that it's not your standard upload. It's my poor ass recording a television set with my cheap phone while holding it as still as I can in my hands. I think I did ok.

Time changes all things. My Dad and I never really got along once adulthood hit, and we still don't get along now.

And, once I had decided I would never be able to speak Spanish well enough to woo my crush, I was movin' on by mid-1997. While I was always kind of the "boy crazy" type, there are very few that I maintained a serious interest in or attraction to for more than about a minute. The subject of this post is one of them, and 2 others, and both of those guys are dead.

And lemme just tell you, I am so glad the subject of this discussion is living his best life, because I wanted him to have the world, and in the summer of 1999, he got it. Everyone knew his name, his face, his voice (his ass, "jajaja" ). But I feel like the world didn't all know the guy I was so ~encantado~ with during a large portion of my misspent youth.

So, allow me to acquaint you with "my mans" 1993-1997:

Ricky Martin - Te Extraño, Te Olvido, Te Amo (Siempre en Domingo 1996)

(Google Translate says: "I Missed You, I Forget You, I Love You"...Indeed)

If you read all of that, you are a blessing, and I thank you. I really wish I had a better reward for your time than this video, but I felt true, pure joy when I found it, and I wanted to share it.

P.S. If you want a little more, let me know. I have 2 more songs (both upbeat, so he ~dances~), and 2 short interviews. If there is any positive response, I will get some equipment to transfer them to digital properly (been intending to for other things anyhow).

Have a lovely day, bbs!

[iphoenixrising]

I can't stop thinking about your Dr!Tim verse (This isnt a prompt btw, I just wanted you to know that Ive been thinking about your writing and how much its inspired me. Sorry for how long this is). I keep imagining the man on the bridge being the hot topic on every news station and paper, even more than Batman and Robin. Everyone wants to know who he is. Is he ok? Did he give his life saving his fellow Gotham citizens? There are a lot of questions

(2)and few answers. Those in the loop are more than content to leave it that way,but somehow it gets leaked that Gothams new hero is a young prodigy doctor atGotham General. Tim is not made aware of this until he gets mobbed by reportersas he’s leaving his 36 hour shift and getting asked a lot of innapropriatepersonal questions. And it’s not nearly as funny as you seem to think it is,Jason.

(3)Of course his boyfriends quickly stop finding the situation funny once the joboffers from all over the world start rolling in. Dozens of them, all offeringthings like millions of dollars in salary, positions like chief of surgery, allin state of the art hospitals that are properly funded and don’t reside incities with crazy clown attacks. And it hurts because, how could they ask himto stay? How could they ask their genius sugar to tie himself down to a city

(4)that chews everyone in it up and spits them out, to be a doctor in a hospitalbarely scraping by, how could they ask their genius boy to refuse a once in alifetime opportunity to escape this shithole of a city and make something bigof himself, all to stay with two vigilantes who cant guarantee they’ll make ithome each night. They couldn’t do it, they want whats best for their boy, evenif it means he leaves them. They can’t ask him to stay.

(5)Damian of course has no such qualms about blackmailing, er requesting Drakestay in the city, and subsequently with his older brothers (Because if he hurtsthem, Damian will hurt Tim twice as bad). Which leads to a very awkwardconversation in which Damian threatens Tim not to leave, Tim is confusedbecause “who said anything about leaving?” And then they have a heartto heart about how Tim isn’t stuck at Gotham general, he chose that hospital.And that he’s not going anywhere anytime soon.

**

So, hi babe :D  Iknow this has been sitting in my inbox for a minute, sorry >.

Brilliant, babe. Justbrilliant.

I also get to play withanother back-and-forth I haven’t really gotten to yet in these little things,so I’m super excited for B and Tony Stark to just have a little snark-fest,yeah?  

**

Tony showed up a fewweeks early for his quarterly “visit” to Gotham.

It’s disconcertingbecause Tony Stark goes between creating new innovations to privatelyconsulting around the US on the most dire of cases in need of a precise handand large enough ego to make miracles happen. He might have to do somebookkeeping even though Pepper is his CEO and runs his company with iron heels. When he’s not working, he has a nice relationship waiting for himat home.

All of it didn’t leaveTony much time to be running to Gotham before schedule to do someridiculous amount of pouting.

And yet?

Here they are.

When Tim actually getsto turn away from the stack of charts he’s updating, he has an oh shitmoment because Tony…isn’t immediately talking. No white coat, just asnazzy three-piece, arms crossed over his chest, and utterly

Silent.

Tim automaticallystands, taking in his old mentor from head to foot, looking for clues toadd to the inevitable diagnosis hovering in his brain pan.

(Because, you know, thattime when he was still a lowly bachelor and could take a month off of Mercy topretty much live in Tony’s facility while things like brain tumors threatenedhis Tony Stark’s life. His hands didn’t shake the whole time he was rootingaround that famous mound of grey matter–that’s when he knew he’d hit the bigleagues.)

“If you even think,”Tony starts, low and angry, “of taking the offer from UCLA over mine, Iwill be an even bigger asshole about your terrible life choices.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Word has apparently gottenaround.

It started out with aquick blurb on the news, blurry camera phone picture of emergency workers andplain clothes civilians jumping to action in the middle of a crisis, a humaninterest story and all that. A glimmer of goodness among the chaos.

More picture with betterquality once the shock and aftermath died down, started to flood Social Media,even various videos of cables snapping and people running, trying not to gettrampled. One the media latched onto just happened to be of him carrying thelittle girl from the car and helping her mother up in the back of a truck tosend them to safety.

The one with himbreaking through the fallen debris made Dick gasp from the table where he waspatching his suit and Jay wrap a big hand around his ankle to squeeze.

The one where he almostlost his grip climbing the wall of broken shit and flaming car remains isprobably where someone saw the connection because the class of kids went on thenews, holding up colorful signs with Thank-You, Dr. Drake!

He was happy they allseemed fine and after an uncomfortable call from Channel 11 Gotham (howthey found out his name is still a mystery even though he suspects B is an evenbigger troll than he’d already surmised), in which he stipulated nocameras this time, went by the elementary school for a visit. They gripped hisnerd shirt with excited hands, and his arms are long enough for a lot ofhugs.

But while Channel 11agreed to his term of no cameras, no interviews, that didn’t really panout when it came to the story later on that night.

His picture flashed allover the damn place, the resident angel on the bridge as one Dr. Drakefrom Mercy General trying to save as many lives as he could. More video clipsand interviews after the fact (he’s so glad to see that Karmen and her mom areokay), and dammit, he’s being literally attacked outside thedouble doors to his ER after a very long shift without Steph. He mighthave been a little mean when he told them in no specific terms that he was onlytrying to make sure people didn’t, you know, die horribly, as is hisnormal, every-day job, and please let him go home where he can pass outfor a day or he’s going to lie down on someone’s shoes and take a nap.

Jay was predictablyentertained at the whole of it. Dick merely told him his kick-ass doctorinstincts deserved appropriate accolades.

Both of them areassholes, but still, they’re his assholes.

But eventually, likeeverything in Gotham, those videos became old news and the next wave ofinevitable oh shit became front and center. Which, should have meant hisfifteen seconds of fame was pretty much over (thankfully)–if he hadn’tstarted getting other interest.

Several offers startedcoming first by mail to the Penthouse, more by phone and email. Unassumingproper stationary with silver and gold lettering, bright voicemails about his“heroism” and obvious skill in emergency situations, emails from high-rankingdoctors or board members extending an invitation to visit their campus and seeif his career might be going in a new direction.

(Gag)

It was pretty easy atfirst, chucking those finely detailed introduction letters in the trashdiscreetly, sending back appreciative declines without Dick or Jason gettingwise as to how many there actually were.

(John Hopkinsthough…that one he had to think about)

A month later and thingsslacked off (or might be routed through Drake Industries so they stop coming tothe Penthouse). Apparently, though, the attention had been somewhat noticeable.

“I don’t know what youmay have heard, Tony, but–” he starts out calmly, putting the penpointedly down.

“Let me start with the shortlist,” it’s the usual sarcasm laying the mood, mimicking an imaginarychecklist, “John Hopkins, Department Head of Emergency Medicine. Mayo, General Surgery Residency Program Director. MassachusettsGeneral, Chief of Surgery. UCSF, Chief of Residents. UCLA, Chief of Staff.Cedars-Sinai, Neuroscience research grants out the ass. Sound morefamiliar?”

Well, there’s only oneway to get this conversation started.

Bonding over coffee.

Gathering up hischarts with a sigh, Tim shakes his head a little and grabs the cane he’s beenusing since his leg is finally starting to get with it (and no Steph,the House MD jokes were funny a week ago, now you need new material). Heshoos Tony out of the room and down the corridor to the chaos that is his ER.

“Notice I didn’tmention the very generous and consistent offer from StarkMedical, Tim,” because Tony really has nothing to be mad about per sayand falls in step beside him anyway, slowing down his unusually fast strides toaccount for the limp. “Because I’m not here to smooze.”

He pauses at the maindesk to arrange the charts in order, gets the approving nod from his favoriteHead Nurse.

“There’s story behindthis,” he fills in casually, “it’s more complicated than just–”

“You almost died,”Tony interrupts smoothly, “on a bridge. You ran around on a crumbling bridgeinstead of getting people the hell off while you got the hell off. Halfthe nation saw that guy with the crazy bat fetish catch someone out in openwater wearing purple scrubs, Tim.”

Well, none of that isa lie really.

Hands free, Tim gripsTony’s elbow and steers them pointedly into the break room, closes the door.With Dr. Stark roaming around Mercy, most everyone would stay clear unless somecatastrophe hits anyway.

He lets Tony stew fora few minutes while he makes a fresh pot of coffee and thinks very, very hardabout how this is going to go.

“You were worriedabout me,” Tim finally gives a half-grin in the face of Tony’s nope, andputs a fresh paper cup in his hand, “you can bluster all you want, but you wereworried, and I appreciate it.”

“That is absolute crapand you know it. I’m here to make sure no other hospitals or researchfacilities snatch you up, Drake. Not after all the effort I put into you overthe last few years.”

Sure, Tony. “The bridge. I survived. A lot of otherpeople survived, so you can ignore whatever crap the news stations aresaying–”

“All of it is true.You stupidly risked your life when the structural integrity was compromised,and since it just happened to involve that wing-nut in the cape, thenation is going to pay the fuck attention.”

Which is probably whyhe’s suddenly Mr. Popular in his field. Well, that does answer some questions.

“You’re taking thisout of proportion,” even if it’s fruitless, he’s still going to try,“there really haven’t been that many–”

“Twenty of the topfacilities in the world have made offers that would put this place to shame.Three of your last publications have shown up in recent journals. The nextsymposium you’re supposed to be at is already sold out.”

And well, shit.He…he didn’t know all of that.

“Besides, if I wasblowing it out of proportion, we wouldn’t be talking about it in thedeserted break room, Drake.”

Tim groans out loud,rubbing a tired hand down his face. How is he going to explain without soundinglike a complete moron?

“Tony, the offersare…nice, okay? I’m not going to say it isn’t cool to be wanted by someof these places. I mean Cedars… they have equipment and research facilitiesmost places couldn’t even dream of. Just the possibilities–”

A very pointedclearing of the throat makes him take a pause to breathe, count to ten becausehe has to get in the mindset to deal with Tony like this again (it’s been aminute) when he’s being incredibly stubborn.

Neither of them noticethe dark blue against black right at the side of the building, but the presenceunder the open window narrows white eyes and stays hidden in the Gotham shadow. Who even knew how long he’d been there.

“Excuse me,Cedars has equipment most facilities–aside from Stark Medical of course–couldn’teven dream of.”

The look he gets backis unimpressed at most, but Tim can see past the usual Tony Stark mask. Theexuding confidence is there like the nice, expensive suits he wears, but underneaththe brilliance and the snark, Tony’s eyes are bloodshot and the dark circlesunderneath look like bruises. He keeps his dominant hand in the pocket of hispants, probably to hide the slight tremble (which is why he isn’t wearing acoat, right? If Tony’s riding the sleep dep train, he won’t operate if hishands are starting to shake).

Tim eases back alittle, sips on his terrible sludge while idly thumbing his phone open.

“I’m very well awareof the opportunities right in front of you, Tim,” Tony starts moving, a shortwhirlwind of movement, activity, and energy. “I’m just saying–”

“What I told you ayear ago is still true,” Tim comes back, finishing up the quick text to one ofTony’s significant others, (just a little knowledge drop on how exhausted hismentor really is). He puts his phone away and crosses his arms over his chestin a firm sign of ‘this is how the discussion is going to go.’

“You can’t be serious.”And yes, that’s Tony Stark without all the touchy-feely, I care if you diekind of thing. “I’m outraged. I’m outraged on your behalf, Tim.”

“You can’t be,” hedeadpans.

“The hell I can’t.You’re going to stay here, in this death trap of a city and practicemedicine in this ill-equipped, dilapidated chop-shop hold-over from the secondWorld War–”

“Tony, c’mon.”

“While half thegoddamned world is out for you?! Do you have any idea what kindof direction your career could go if you accepted even one of thoseoffers?”

“I–”

“Anything else isliterally going to be professional suicide.”

“When you put it like that–”he snarks back, getting a little closer to his patience. It had taken longerthan usual because Tony, like Layla, needed to adults to lay it out for themonce and awhile.

“It’s time to listento reason, Tim. You’ve had plenty of time to try, I don’t know, winningthe Nobel for putting up with terrible conditions and homicidal maniacs withbomb fetishes. Isn’t it time you started challenging yourself again, and notby trying to die in this trash-dump city?”

And the shadowsoundlessly slides away in the night, leaving the conversation to finish up anecessary patrol. The rushing wind doesn’t take away anything he’s alreadylearned.

Dr. Drake, blissfullyunaware of the company, narrows his eyes dangerously, straightens up because dammit,he thought he handled this.

“I. Am. Not.Interested.” He tries, wondering if the emphasis counts. “As appealing as theresearch capabilities are, I’m not taking any of the offers. At all, atall. I’m staying right the fuck here where I choose to be.”

And he sees Tony startto open his mouth to start-up with another fast and furious argument on whyGotham is a cesspool of death and more death, but Tim walks right overanything he might have started in on by just getting right up in Tony’s faceand laying it all out.

“I appreciate the fuckout of the interest, Dr. Stark. Thanks but no thanks.”

“I need someone tocheck you out obviously.”

“I like ithere.”

“Oh? And what’s hername Mister I-Like-It-Here?”

“His name,Tony, and their names for your information.”

That has the intendedeffect and makes his old mentor pretty much pause on the next syllable.   

“But just so you know,they aren’t the only reasons why I’m staying in Gotham City. It’s more thanbeing close to my parents’ graves or close to my best friend and my niece. It’smore than just finally coming home, Tony. I belong here. I’m neededhere. It’s dirty and dangerous and so fucking what if there’s a guy in aBat suit running around kicking the shit out of criminals? It’s my city,so no. I’m not going anywhere.”

And Tony just blinksdown at him for long moments, this scene so painfully familiar from their daysof arguing back and forth during his “internship” with Stark Medical. It hadn’ttaken him long to understand what needed to be done to make someone like TonyStark change his mind.

Get all up in his faceand drop some truth bombs.

“I really, really hatethis,” Tony finally replies flatly, but his eyes are scrunched in amusement.

“I know. If I ever dowant to leave it behind, then you know the first place I’m going to go,” Timcomes back more gently, giving Tony a smirk.

Even though he’sobvious not happy about it, some of the pissed off fades out of Tony’sstiff posture. “Promise me, Drake. No one gets to kill you before I pick yourbrain about the neuro-stimulation device we’re working on.”

And with the obviouspun, he leans over laughing until his damn leg starts to ache and Tony has tohold him up by the arm so he doesn’t fall over.

**

The very impressiveRolls Royce greets Dr. Stark when he finally makes his way out the front doorsto attempt finding some palatable coffee.

The older man waitingby the passenger-side door is familiar enough that a smile cuts across Tony’sface.

“Alfred! Long time, nosee.” He smirks at the irony since his “visits” to Gotham didn’t alwayscoordinate with Pepper’s insistence he at least be in the city for SMbusiness.

“Master Stark, apleasure to see you again, Sir.”

“Always. Let me guess.You have some incredible coffee in there waiting for me?”

“Of course, Sir. Flavoredjust how you prefer.”

“You are a master ofall things, Alfred. Don’t even let Bruce tell you any differently.”

“I shall remind him atevery opportunity. However, you may do me a service and tell him yourself,”Alfred opened the back door with a slight flourish to show the billionairehimself sitting in the back, drinking from a thick, glass tumbler.

“Aw, Bruce, is that autility belt under your shirt or are you just happy to see me?”

The surgeon foldshimself down to get in, eyes sparkling for the slight scowl on his old friend’sface. He pays little attention to Alfred getting back in the driver’s seat andstarting the car. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t trust me inyour city.”

Tony stick up hispointer fingers at the side of his head, wiggling them to mimic the ears on theside of the cowl.

He’s smiling likecrazy when B just rolls his eyes and takes a deep pull from the tumbler.“You’re early, even after you’ve been running the gambit at your facility andStark Industries for the past few weeks. Forgive me for being curious.”

“I had to see anotherdoctor about a job prospect.”

“The doctor we have amutual interest in?”

“That would be theone. Next time he needs to be saved, leave the tights at home. Don’t you have aWE helicopter for a reason?”

“And exactly how wouldI explain that one away?”

“You have PR people,Bruce, let them have a field day with ‘rich socialite accidentally savespeople on a crumbling bridge.’”

“That would make morework for me as Bruce Wayne. Batman is a better figurehead for that kind ofthing.”

“Figurehead? Oh,you mean the persona you’ve gone to great lengths to hide as some kindof myth or urban legend all these years? That guy just suddenly shows up in thedaytime?”

“He’s beenphotographed before, Tony. Sometimes even with other superheroes, likeSuperman and Wonder Woman. All drawback of being on a team.”

“Teams are wonderfulthings, Bruce.

“Says you.”

And from a pocket inthe door, Bruce finally has a little bit of mercy on the overworked genius bypulling out a warm travel mug with the Batman logo on the front.

Tony laughs maniacallyfor long, painful moments, earning another eye-roll. The contents, however, arejust as Alfred promised: full of caffeine and just as tasty.

After a long moment ofsatisfaction, Tony lays his head back on the cushy seat and just sighs.

“You’re pushingyourself too hard,” Bruce admonishes gently. “I’m going to send the WE chopperto pick up Jim and Steve instead.”

That wakes him up.

“Don’t you even dare,B. I’ll never forgive you.”

“I’ve made worseenemies.”

Tony doesn’t snortcoffee up his nose, but really, it’s a close thing.

“You obviously can’ttake care of yourself,” Bruce is his usual brusk, no-nonsense about it, butTony can see there’s already some kind of plan in the making. “I can seewhy the two of them have such a hard time with you.”

“Says the guy thatneeded an emergency arthroscopy for meniscus tears.”

“Then I guess I’m verylucky you were in town.”

Tony hums, but hiseyes are sparkling. “How is the knee doing by the way?”

“It hurts when I breaksomeone’s jaw. Other than that, it’s fine.” And because it’s Bruce, he wavesit away without a second thought.

Tony hums again, buthis eyes go down to the knee in question.

Bruce sips his drinkagain while Alfred continues driving and Tony makes him wait for it.

Finally, once they’repassing the old Mylar building, B looks at him head-on, “all right. What did hehave to say?”

Trying not to grin,Tony shrugs a shoulder, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. Drake is staying inGotham, even with the more-than-generous offer I’ve made him. Believe me, B,I’m not happy about it, but he doesn’t seem too keen on leaving Mercy General.”

And as Tony is well-awarein their long and industrious friendship, the real Bruce Wayne is like a closedbook, doesn’t let even the smallest twitch break his facade (well, except infront of his boys, which is when BatDad makes an appearance), but thesigns of relief are really hard to miss for someone that literally kept B’sright arm moving after that rotator cuff injury.

“Dick and Jay will behappy to hear that, I suppose.” Tony observes with false cheer becausehonestly, who wouldn’t put two and two together at this juncture.

(Bruce isn’t the onlydetective. As a surgeon, Tony has to deduce with little evidence, so it’s notreally a shocker to find out the vigilantes have a doctor for a sweetie. Smartmove all around.)

“…yes, they will.Tim…?”

“He didn’t have to.You just told me yourself, Mr. Wayne.”

At the frown, Tonygives himself a mental point. The day he can get one up on the Batman is reallya day he needs to remember.

“All right, fine. Jayand Dick might have mentioned he’s been getting attention outside Gotham. I’vealready taken some steps to try making it seem like staying in the city mightbe a better deal.”

And Tony’s jaw drops,“you’ve been trying to get Mercy to partner with WE! That’s why they aren’tplaying nice with Pepper! Bruce, you devil.”

“Demon, actually, ifyou believe the stories,” and now it’s Bruce smirking into his tumbler. “We’lltalk more about it over dinner. Besides, the Batcomputer is on the fritz again.You can dazzle me over filet mignon.”

“Flatterer. How can Ipossibly say no?”

Bruce taps theintercom to tell Alfred they’re ready to go back to the Manor and Dr. Starkwill be joining them for the evening. Alfred gives him an affirmative and the planis set into motion. If there just happens to be a comfortable surfacefor Tony to pass out on during the visit, well, the pictures for Jim and Stevewould be well-worth the effort.

**

The conversation withTony didn’t end well, leaving him with a mental hangover by the time his shiftis finally over.

Night hadn’t startedbreaking away into dawn yet, so he’s still walking by dark alleys where thestreet lights are flickering.

He gets out a, “whatthe fuck–!?” before he’s just suddenly swept up off his feet by a strongarm holding him up hundreds of feet in the air.

Really, he should beused to things like this by now.

Robin undoubtedly givesno shits about how tight he’s holding onto the doctor or, the obviousdifferences in their height as punctuated by the botched landing, putting himliterally on his ass.

“Wow, thanks for the warning,Rob. I really didn’t need legs anyway.”

In some way that mightactually show he’s sorry, Robin bends down to pick up the cane and handsit over so Tim can get back on his feet.

“Alright, what’s goingon? Where are you hurt?” He doesn’t bother with niceties, just grips Robin bythe bicep and turns him, uses the cane to hold the cape out of the way. “Pleasetell me no one stabbed you because wouldn’t that just be ironic?”

He sees no blood ortorn suit. Takes a second look just to make sure.

Robin, in a creepyparody of his conversation with Tony earlier in the evening, is silent.

“Rob? Robin, what isit?”

A litany of oh shitruns through his brain pain in the form of toxins, mind control, and bloodborne pathogens (oh my).

“I have beeninformed,” the youngest vigilante starts slowly, “you are considering other opportunitiesoutside of Gotham, Drake.”

He blinks once. Doesit again while staring down at the whiteouts.

“Opportunities? Rob–Dami,what are you talking about?”

“Facilities are vyingfor you, offering you more advantages than any in Gotham possibly could.I understand the temptation of such offers–”

“Whoa, what? Wait aminute. Just. Wait.”

“However,” Robin goeson, his tone low in the night, “I am here to offer you a bargain.”

And that in no waywhatsoever sound anything less than ominous. Like, ‘I’ll promise not to takeout your spleen’ kind ominous.

He leans down a littleso the crime fighter doesn’t have to look up at him, “First: yes, I’ve gottensome job offers. It’s nice they’re thinking of me, really, but those offers arebased off a one-time emergency incident, not because they’ve seen me inaction or know anything about my…hobbies. They’re not offering a jobto me, Dami. Do you get that?”

The ensuing silenceand Bat-stillness are signs of the younger processing.

“Besides, I choseto come back to Gotham when I could have gone pretty much anywhere after myinternship with Stark Medical. You have no idea how many places wantedme on staff after I survived Tony Stark. If I wanted a job outside of the city,I could have had it in spades. The point is I chose to be here. I wantedto stay, and that? Isn’t going to change, okay? No bargains, no threats,nothing. I’m not leaving–”

He stops himselfbefore saying I’m not leaving Dick and Jay because really, he isnot, repeat Not talking to Dami about his relationship. Poor kid mightbe traumatized for life, so nope, not happening.

(Their last littleconvo to the vibe of ‘harm my brother and I shall eviscerate you per one ofyour textbooks. I shall do it slowly and methodically. Your screams would nottrouble me’ turned into a pretty good discussion on the best possiblescenario in effectively ripping someone’s spine out. His argument against thelogistics of it had spurned Robin out of the killing mood).

The obvious relief inthe small crime fighter is right there in how his shoulders sag just slightly.

“So, you’re going tohave to put up with me saving your ass when you do stupid shit like take on anarmy of zombified Jokers without backup.”

“Then…I shall haveno other option but to deal with your meddling when necessary,” the youngerwaves off his concern, but a corner of his mouth is tilted up just enough tonotice.

**

It’s really nice ofDami to drop him off on his fire escape. Walking would have been fine, but whenyou can travel Air-Robin, well, why not?

He pushes his windowup and gingerly eases in, maneuvering the cane to steady his leg. Hands are onhim before his head is inside and he wacks himself a good one in surprise.

Dick is smiling gentlydown at him, still gripping his elbow to steady him.

“That sounded like ithurt,” is a failed attempt at a joke because the mirth doesn’t reach the darkblue of Dick’s eyes.

Oh. OH. Welp, that’swhere Dami got this nonsense from, is it?

His stern lecture isgoing to have to wait for at least one cup of half-way decent coffee because hereally need to wind it up so the message hits home.

Jay is already there,his chair pulled out from the kitchen table and the pot filled with somethingdarker than the night.

“Hi honey,” he tiredlycalls, “did my boys have a good time kicking the shit out of bad guys tonight?”

Making grabby hand athim, Dick is one of his hugging moods, and pretty much lifts him off hisfeet to nuzzle/carry him to the table where blessed coffee awaited. Fine.Lecture pending.

He gets a last goodnuzzle to the face before the smell of pizza hits and a plate appears in frontof him. Jason leans down to blow a breath across his jugular before his mouthpresses just enough to be a kiss, the usual effect takes his nerve endings up anotch or two before the tease pulls away.

The three of them eatin sluggish silence, the strain of their night jobs hitting a little close tohome. The call of a communal shower and their large, comfortable bed a siren’ssong to the over-worked, sleep-deprived do-gooders.

But Tim knows them bynow, knows what’s already running them further down.

Through the last yearof their relationship, they’d already been through the whole we’re puttingyou in danger just by being with you argument.

Yes, yes it possiblywas.

Yes, he is fullyaware.

Yes, he can make hisown choices fuck you very much.  Apparently, his no, not changing mymind is going to come out for a second time tonight.

“Robin picked me up onthe way home,” he starts out while the two of them are finishing up and lookingless likely to start up arguing before he’s made his point.

“Dami was still out?”

“What? Baby Bat ain’tget enough in that warehouse down on 23rd?”

Tim finishes off hiscoffee and finally sets his eyes on first Jason and then Dick. “Going to ask mewhat he wanted?”

Both crime fighters gostill, doing that eye slide thing they can still pull off with a domino andhelmet.

“Lay it on us,Timmers.”

“He pretty much askedwhat offer I was accepting for some mystery job half a continent away,”and now he’s glaring, eyes narrowing when Dick looks quickly away and Jasonsits back with a tense jaw jutting out.

“Which is absolutelyfucking ridiculous considering I like right where the hell I am.Where could he have heard such a thing, I wonder?”

Oh yeah, that’s Dick’sguilty expression.

“It’s fine if theywant to offer me a position, but the nice thing about it is that I can politelydecline, you know.”

“Top twenty facilitiesin the world, Timmy?” Dick’s voice is softer than he’d like, shakingly unsurefor a vigilante that literally risks his life every night to keep peoplehe doesn’t even know safe. “That’s not something to take…lightly.”

His mouth drops openwith an are you even kidding me?

“‘Sides,” Jayintejects without really looking at him, “ain’t like this is the fucking centero’ the world fer a fella like you, Sweets. Smart, sassy, moves like yerass is on fucking fire when someone’s on the line. Ya got moreguts than anyone outta the cape I ever met.”

“Gotham doesn’t haveto be the hill you die on,” Dick picks up, looking down into the sludge left atthe bottom of his coffee mug, “we would absolutely understand andsupport you if you even wanted to look into any of these places–”

“Even go ta seewhatcha might be lookin’ at,” Jay shrugs indifferently, “make sure ya’d findsomewhere safe ta build a nest.”

“The kind oftechnology they could offer you would be, like, ground-breaking stuff and…andGotham just can’t give you that, Tim.”

“No motherfuckersgonna break inta yer shit, I guaran-fucking-tee ya on that.”

“It’s not just beingin the ER or in surgery, it’s moving up to management or teaching or being afull-time researcher with grants and–and everything.”

“Make a safe routethere n’ back, you feel me? Me n’ Dickie’ll scope it out a few days, check the scene.”

“We would never wantto hold you back, baby. Not when the only thing Gotham has to offer you isexploding bridges and insane mad men that kidnap you and ninjas that are readyto attack at any second, and…and Timmy, you could never be safe, notreally, not here. Not even with us and B and Dami and everyone else,it’ll never be completely safe for you.”

“But fucking believeit, Timmers, we’ll make any place ya wanna lay yer head down as safe as wecan, yeah?”

“We…we love you, andwe want the best for you.”

“If leavin’ is what’sbest, Sweets, then we’ll make it fucking happen.”

It’s DIck’s voicecracking and Jay’s shiny, averted eyes that end it for him right then andthere.

He shoves himself upfrom the table abruptly, a jarring motion. The sound of the chair fallingbackwards a loud clatter against the softness of their voices. He keeps a handon the table top to walk around the damn thing and almost strangle Jason bylooping an arm around the base of his throat and pull the Red Hood into hischest. He holds out his other hand to Dick, glaring with the best of hisabilities.

It’s a tremulous thingwhen Dick rises tiredly out of his seat and takes that hand, lets Tim pull himover and secure the both of them to him.

“I’m going to say thisbecause it’s obvious the two of you are too tired to use your detective skillsfor anything more than superficial clues.”

Slowly, Jay’s face isin his stomach, arms wrapping around his waist while Dick secures his chest,the two of them almost holding him up.

“After all thefighting I’ve had to do to get here, to get this far, I’m not giving up jackshit. I run the gauntlet because that exactly where I want to be. I staywith my people because that’s my fucking team and no, I don’t wantor need another. I can watch Layla grow up into this kick ass little person andmake sure Steph has someone to Netflix and chill with while we kill a pint ofBen & Jerry’s. But what matters the most, what I can’t fucking give upis being here with the two of you in whatever capacity I can. Asyour boyfriend, as your surgeon, as the guy that is totally, you know, inlove with you. As someone that can share your lives like this. All of it isexactly what I want and what I get to choose. You two? Don’t get to tellme what’s best for me. I decide that. Got it?”

The quiet, still menattached to him give half-shuffling nods where they’re buried in him.

“I don’t want to hearanything else about leaving Gotham, like at all, okay? The answer is no.I’m not going anywhere to tour the facilities or listen to stupid speechesabout what they have to offer or how good the benefits package is. None of thatshit. They can’t offer me my ER, they can’t offer me time doing research in theBatCave, they can’t let me play around with alien DNA for a minute, and theycan’t give me you two. So? No. Case closed.”

Dick lets up justenough for him to tilt Jay’s head back and lean down to slide their lipstogether, giving the Red Hood a little something to seal the deal. Those eyesare bluer when he pulls back, making him smirk before he straightens up to giveDick the same treatment.

(Because they’re bothtall, he has to pull them down to effectively fuck his tongue in their mouths.Such a pain in the ass.)

When he pulls back,Dick gasps in a little, tightens his hold around Tim’s chest.

But the reliefpervades the air between them, giving him a reason to go a little more lax,just to feel them pretty much ready to hold him up completely.

“So the plan is,”he continues easily, one hand on the back of Jay’s neck to rub the tensionaway, and the other gripping Dick’s wrist tight enough to bruise tomorrow, “weget a nice, hot shower with plenty of scrubbing and maybe a little play time.Then, we climb in bed and pass the fuck out. You can fix your suits tomorrow,and we’ll all feel up to having dangerous acrobatic vigilante sex after about eight hours. If you’re both good,I’ll…I’ll wear that thing you got me for my birthday. Deal?”

He knows he’s alreadygot their acquiescence when both his boyfriends noticeably perk.

“That sounds like adeal to me,” Dick tries to be mock-grave, but he’s laughing in the back ofTim’s neck, running his nose over the knob of bone.

“Fucking righteous,Sweetheart. I been waiting ta see that.” Jay is grinning up at him with thatlook– all kinds of anticipation without any of the previous hesitation.

“Good. Peel yourselvesoff of me and lets get naked. For mostly clean purposes. Or not. Really, I’mpretty beyond compromised, so I’d probably like to make you both come at leastonce before I’m unconscious.”

“Sweet-talker,” Dickteases and steps to the side so he can be the first to lift their civilianboyfriend up in a princess hold that has become way too reminiscent in the pasttwo months.

“He’s just talkin’ my language, ‘at’s all, Baby Boy,” Jaystands to give him a fast n’ dirty before he gets their mugs to the sink andfills them with water to wash tomorrow. He hits the lights and follows his boysdown the hallway where slippery skin and things like I’m not giving upare waiting.

[aspen-arts]

Price of Freedom Ch 17

Hey guys! Here we have Chapter 17 of “Price of Freedom”. Sadly, I must announce that this fanfic is almost at the end. But don’t you fret! I’m still planning on a few things. ;)

Until then, enjoy this chapter!

Ch 17

The whistle blew early at dawn the next morning awakening T-bone. As usual he got up from his bed, got his usual cup of coffee from the nearby table, checked to make sure there were no lumps in the coffee before going outside to his usual spot to watch the sun rise.

“Hey T…”

T-bone glanced up in time to see the Blaze Brothers slithering towards him.

“We’re about to arrive at Inkwell Isle One in about thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes…”

“Are you gonna wake them up?”

T-bone sipped his coffee. “Give them some more time for them to be alone with each other. I’ll wake them up when we’re close.”

One of the Blaze Brothers nodded and slithered off while the other merely frowned. “What’s up with ya’, T?”

“What do you mean?”

“I would have expected ya’ to scream and rave at Specs for making a deal with that Devil. Yet you didn’t say anything.”

“I think losing Cagney was enough punishment, don’t you think?”

“I guess.” The piston shrugged.

T-bones sighed. “Look, no offense but I doubt you’ll understand why Specs did what he did. I ain’t happy about it, that’s for sure, but I can understand it.”

“Similar events in your life?”

“Huh?”

“Have you’ve done what he’s done?”

T-bone stiffened before taking another sip of his coffee. “Perhaps…”

The piston gave a huge grin. “Ha! Never took you as some sort of lady’s man, T!”

T-bone pointed a thin finger towards the brother. “And you’d better not spread it around, got it?”

“Sure, sure!” Still snickering, the Blaze Brother went off to find his twin.

Sighing T-bone leaned against the railing and took another sip of his coffee. Memories of his past love came to his mind and he sighed sadly. Perhaps if he had wised up and realized that Janelle would never love him then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess. That’s the problem with love. Makes you do stupid things.

But then again, Cagney was not like Janelle at all. Not if he was willing to risk his own freedom to save Specter from the fate of being enslaved by the Devil. T-bone still wasn’t sure whether to admire this or snort with cynicism. Well one thing he did know,  love caused nothing but trouble.

 Specter was the first one to come awake. His eyes groggily looked around and then settled on the flower that was curled up in his arms. He closed his eyes again and snuggled closer to Cagney. Maybe the deal with the Devil was just a nightmare and he was just waking up. Everything was going well. There was no deal, no devil searching for them, just him and Cagney together.

He heard footsteps coming up to his section of the caboose and the door slowly opened. Specter turned his head to see T-bone peeking in.

“Oh, were you awake already?”

“I just woke up…” Specter sighed.

“Well, I just came in to inform you that we’re nearly there.”

Specter’s heart sank at these words. So it wasn’t a nightmare. It was real.

“Okay…” He whispered miserably. “I’ll…I’ll wake him up.”

T-bone gave a nod and closed the door.

Specter stroked Cagney’s petals and pressed his lips against his forehead. “Hey…Cagney, wake up…”

Cagney’s eyes slowly opened and he looked up at the ghost, smiling softly. “Hey…”

“Good morning.”

“‘morning…” The flower’s expression fell when he saw Specter’s. “Are we…are we here now?”

“Just about.”

Cagney raised himself up and wrapped his vine arms around Specter, resting his head on his chest. “I don’t want to leave you Specs…”

“I know,” Specter stroked his petals. “I don’t want to either.”

Cagney placed his leaf hands on Specter’s cheeks. “We’ll find a way out of this. I promise that things will turn out all right.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Specter smiled. He then sighed sadly. “But…I’m going to miss you.”

“I will too.”

The train then began to slow down and soon came to a stop in front of a train depot that said “INKWELL ISLE ONE.”

Cagney sighed. “Well…that’s my stop…”

Specter leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Cagney’s. “I love you…”

“I love you too.” Cagney whispered back.

Specter placed a hand underneath Cagney’s chin and lifted his face up and kissed him deeply. Cagney closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into one last final kiss. Afterwards Specter broke the kiss and floated up, holding out his hand which Cagney took. Both flower and ghost went down where T-bone was waiting for them at the train exit. When Cagney went past him he tipped his conductor hat towards the flower.

“Cagney Carnation…it’s been an honor to know ya’.”

“Thanks, T-bone.” Cagney gave a small smile.

“Hey Cagney…”

Cagney looked back to see the Blaze Brothers giving him encouraging smiles.

“Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Yeah, take care.”

Cagney nodded and gave Specter one last look. Specter was trying to keep a brave façade but Cagney could see tears welling up in the ghost’s eyeballs. Cagney gave a reassuring smile at the ghost. It’ll be all right. He just knew it. Specter smiled back as Cagney stepped out onto the platform where he saw a familiar carrot, potato and onion waiting for him. Once they spotted him they began to wave towards him.

Cagney started walking towards them when a deep voice interrupted him.

“Hey Cagney…”

Cagney turned and headed towards the front of the train where the Head of the Train glanced sideways towards him. “Keep out of trouble, will ya’?”

“Sure…and…take care of Specs, will you?”

“Can do.”

“All aboard!”

Cagney stepped back from the train as the whistle wailed in the air and the train started to surge forward. The carnation merely stood watching as the train cars passed by and then finally the caboose went past. Specter was standing near the railing and to Cagney’s surprise Specter grabbed onto the rail and flipped over until he was just holding on to the railway and the rest of his body was just floating like a flag.

Specter turned his head to look at Cagney and smiled. Cagney couldn’t help himself. The tears immediately started flowing but he was laughing. He broke into a run and went after the caboose, reaching out towards Specter. The ghost released one hand and reached out towards Cagney. Their hands were nearly touching when the train went faster and the platform ended.

Cagney came to a stop as the train left the Inkwell Isle One train depot and he watched the train grow smaller and smaller along with Specter who was slowly waving goodbye towards him. Cagney raised a leaf and waved back. He remained like that until finally the train disappeared from view taking Specter along with it.

 “Three...MONTHS!”

Some of the casino bosses flinched at King Dice’s tone of voice. The manager was not happy. Then again he wasn’t happy ever since the flower had escaped.

“It’s been three months and we still haven’t found out who let him escape!”

“But boss,” Mr. Wheezy spoke up, “it was that nightshade who let him escape. He let a weed beat him to a pulp!”

“True,” King Dice narrowed his eyes. “But someone let it slip about the contracts in the west hallway! Nobody except for all nine of you knows about that room…so obviously one of you did it.”

The bosses looked at each other in bewilderment and also nervousness. Everyone that is except Phear Lap. He just looked puzzled. King Dice remained standing there, his hands behind his back and his eyes slowly going from boss to boss to find a guilty looking suspect.

“Mark my words,” He spoke slowly, “we’ll find out who the turncoat is…and when we do, oh you’ll be screaming for mercy when the boss gets his hands on you.” King Dice whirled around and walked off. “You’re all dismissed. Back to your duties!”

There was a quiet sigh of relief as the bosses departed to head back to their stations while gossiping about the recent events.

“You think they’ll find out who let the weed escape?”

“I sure hope so! I ain’t taking the fall for something someone else did!”

“How’s that nightshade guy doing?”

“Still at the hospital but slowly getting better.”

“Hmph, never liked that guy anyway. Let’s hope he stays there for all I care.”

Phear Lap was the last one standing. His ears twitched in bewilderment when he thought about the events that took place after his talk with Cagney. He hadn’t expected such a violent reaction from the flower. He knew there was some sort of hostility between him and the nightshade but never in his wildest dreams did he expect the carnation to go ballistic.

He wondered if it had been a good idea to tell the carnation about the room of contracts. To his great surprise, he realized that he didn’t feel guilt by letting the carnation know nor did he feel any anger towards him for escaping. In fact he felt a bit of relief. Sure being bookkeeper and announcer for the Inwell Hell’s races had it’s great moments, but it was still hell after all and he was still trapped along with the others who had signed their souls away in the contracts.

Maybe he came to genuinely like the carnation despite him being so silent and grim. Maybe he was just relieved that nobody else would be trapped in a place of gloom and despair. Or maybe he’ll just never know.

Phear Lap started to head back towards his station and winced as pain shot up through his legs. Damn these crippled legs of his. With a sigh he limped back towards the race tracks. At least that flower had a chance at a new beginning in his life…not like him.

King Dice stepped into the office just as the Devil slammed the phone down and slumped back in his throne, growling with frustration.

“Don’t tell me,” King Dice frowned. “Belladonna again?”

“If I hear that bitch rant and rave about suing this place again,” The Devil snarled, “I’m gonna tear her apart myself! How was I supposed to know that weed was gonna erupt and attack?! Ain’t my fault that moron let himself be beaten up!”

King Dice couldn’t help but smirk at this. He had never liked Nathan himself due to the nightshade trying to kiss up to the Devil. Hearing the Devil blame Nathan for is injuries was very satisfying.

“So,” The Devil lit up a cigar and took a puff. “No luck in finding out who ran his mouth?”

“Not yet,” King Dice shook his head. “They don’t seem to know who did it. I doubt they’ll be of any help.”

“Well what about that Mangosteen?”

“Nah. He’s an idiot but he ain’t stupid enough to be disloyal.”

“What about the rabbit?”

“He’s crazed, but still not disloyal.”

“Phear Lap?”

“Not a chance. He’s one of the most loyal employees I’ve got.”

The Devil growled in annoyance and stood up. He walked over to the large windows and glared out at the desolate landscape. “We’ll find the traitor soon…and when we do…” He cigar in his mouth lit up in flames as the Devil’s eyes blazed in red anger. “And the worst part…the WORST part…the nightshade only had fifteen more contracts to obtain! Seventeen now that those two contracts are lost to us!”

“You know boss,” King Dice spoke up, “maybe you need someone more capable to get those other contracts…”

“Yeah?” The Devil snorted. “Like who?”

“Well…what about me?”

“I’ve told ya’ before, you’re needed right here in the casino. We need someone with spunk…someone…younger…”

The Devil took a few more puffs on his cigar then something caught his eye. He looked down and saw two young boys entering into hell with expressions of awe as they stared at the casino. The Devil stared at the two cup boys for a minute. “Hey Dice, c’mere!”

King Dice went over to the Devil’s side and frowned at the sight of the two boys running towards the casino. “Should I kick them out?”

“No…” The Devil grinned. “Invite them in…I’ve got a good feeling about these two.”

[remelitalia]

Astute Plans For Which Business Is Best At Home - Uncovered Ideas

Presented here underneath you can discover lots of great advice regarding a Which Business To Start At Home.

How I Started My Home Based Business

It can be difficult to have a home based business. How can you get started? You may also wonder how you will make it all work. There are many things to consider when starting a home business, making the journey somewhat intimidating at its outset. This article has many suggestions to help you move in the right direction.

Make a plan for your home business before you just go jumping in. If you know what you're going to do and when you're going to do it, you'll be much more likely to meet your goals. Starting a business without a plan is like trying to drive to an unknown location without a map - even if you know where you'd like to end up, you probably won't get there in any reasonable timeframe.

Pay estimated taxes. For a home business owner, it is preferable to pay your taxes four times a year. Unless you want a shock when it's tax time, contact the IRS and set up a payment process. Not only are you responsible for regular tax, you will have to pay self-employment tax. If you are good with crafts, you can start a home business by selling the things that you make. Not only will you make extra money, but you will be having fun in the meantime. Many people like to give unique, handmade items as gifts, which means this can be a good market for you to target.

In order to be successful with your home business, you will need to have various skills and be able to fulfill many roles. Some of the areas you are going to be involved with are management, bookkeeping, customer support, and marketing. However, it is not necessary to be great in every single one of these areas. For example, if you are not the best at giving friendly customer support, you can freelance a virtual assistant to help you. There are also many resources such as books to help you improve in an area you might be lacking, and as your business grows, you can hire consultants to take over entire sections of your business.

Most people who start a home business have dreams of huge success and wealth. This is great, but when running a home business it is a good idea to learn to celebrate and get excited about the small milestones, not just the big ones. Small milestones happen a lot more often than large ones. Being able to get excited over little achievements will keep you motivated and prevent you from giving up.

Be professional in advance. Get everything you need to show that you are a professional business person in advance, This includes business cards, a business phone and business email address. Make sure that all the pertinent information is printed on your business card, and when you hand one out, try to take the name of the person that you have handed it to.

When you are ready to write a business plan for your new business, get some help from experts. This does not mean that you have to spend hundreds of dollars to hire a business consultant. You can find many books in the library, containing sample business plans for every type of business imaginable. You can also find samples from online resources. If you are ready to form your business, think about what legal steps you are required to take. You will need to decide if you want to form your business as a sole proprietorship, partnership or corporation. Your business will need a license or permit, in order to operate. Depending on the type of business, you might need to get special insurance. Making sure that you address all the legal issues, will protect you and your clients from any legal misunderstanding.

When you are planning to start your own home business, be sure to choose a product that matches something in which you are already interested. When you run your own business, you will eat, sleep, and breathe that work. Picking something that you already really love will help to ward off burn out and ensure your success.

To maintain a professional image for your business, be really careful what information about you can be seen on social networks. Remember that these days social networks are a popular way for potential customers to check up on you! If you are going to let clients see your Facebook or Twitter accounts, then make sure that everything that you post - from your profile picture to daily updates - reflects positively on your professional persona.

As the beginning of the article stated, so many people are looking into starting a home business of their own. Starting your home business may be hard if you don't understand how to succeed with it.

    Business must invest in cyber for remote work: Theta Global advisors

Since lockdown was imposed in March last year, all shops in IT park have stayed closed

  THIRUVANANTHAPURAM: With IT companies in Technopark here entertaining work-from-home culture since the pandemic hit, the past 10 months have been a nightmare for people running non-IT businesses inside the park. Since the lockdown was imposed in March last year, all the shops, including restaurants, in Technopark have stayed closed. The work-from-home policy adopted by the government and IT firms has hit around 50 vendors who depend on the techies for revenue.

While the government intervened and provided the vendors a three-month rent waiver from April to June last year, the Technopark authorities later asked them to either pay the pending rent or quit.“Around 50 shops, including restaurants, in Technopark depended on techies. Now, our future looks bleak,” said Tigy Tankachan, secretary, Technopark Vendors Association (TVA). “Even IT companies are promoting work from home as they are making profits and the productivity of employees is good. None is concerned about our plight,” he said. 

The Group of Technology Companies (GTech), the industry body of IT and Business Process Management organisations in Kerala, has said employees can come to office after getting vaccinated. While the decision would benefit the vendors, they are unsure about an immediate turnaround in their situation.Most of the vendors are engineers and other professionals providing support services like restaurants, automatic car wash, laundromats and tailoring shops. 

“We cater to several techies and our services are exclusively offered to employees in Technopark. We are fully dependent on them. We invested substantially in our ventures and are employing over 1,000 people in all the units, besides indirectly employing more than 3000 people. Though we reopened some restaurants in January, we could not make decent revenue,” Tigy said. Vineeth Sankar, a laundry shop owner in Technopark, said all the shops closed in March last year, immediately after the state government announced the lockdown.

“We immediately sent our employees home and paid them salaries for a few months. Now, we have no resources to pay them. Since our shops are inside Technopark, there is a standing instruction from authorities that we cannot cater to people outside. We are fully dependent on employees here,” said Vineeth. 

The TVA filed a memorandum in January before Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan, ministers Kadakampally Surendran and T M Thomas Isaac, the IT secretary and the Technopark CEO seeking exemption from rent till March. However, it is yet to get a response. IT secretary Mohammed Y Safirulla told TNIE that the requests of non-IT establishments are under the government’s consideration. 

“We already gave them a six-month waiver from April 2020. They have submitted a petition now and it is under the government’s consideration,” he said. Vendors said they got only a three-month waiver.

https://www.captiveinternational.com/news/businesses-must-invest-more-in-cyber-security-for-remote-workers-theta-global-advisors-3925

    I'm just very excited about Home Business Startup Ideas and I'm hoping you liked the entire blog post. Appreciated our posting? Please share it. Let other people check it out. Thanks for going through it.

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Catching up -- Dec 19th

Dean x Reader, with Sam; Dean’s POV; One shot

A/N: This was written for @webcricket advent challenge.  Complete fluff. Prompt was Cozy Coffee Shop. I’m a little behind the challenge but I’ll catch up.  I know I can.  Life is crazy at Christmas.  Somehow with all the running I managed to actually write something that I think is cute.

Word count: 1.2K

My fingers dialed her number as soon as Sammy reminded me that we were going to drive through her town in a few hours.  (Y/N) had gone civilian almost a year ago, we spoke and text but I hadn’t seen her since she left.

“Hey Sweetheart.” I greeted her with a smile.

“Dean!” (Y/N) practically squealed on the phone hearing my voice.

“We are passing through New Mexico.” I told her.

She gasped, that little breath of excitement always got me, “Does that mean I get to see you?”

“Only if you want to.” I licked my lips praying she didn’t say she was busy.

“Yeah, Yeah!” (Y/N) agreed.  “There’s this little coffee shop off of Fifth, meet you at 2:30.”

“I’ll be there.”

I was so nervous, my palms were sweaty as I gripped the steering wheel just sitting in the parking lot. “How about I give you two some time?” Sam suggested clearly seeing how crazy I was going.

“Yeah, thanks.” I looked him in the eye. “Maybe come check on us in an hour or so.”  

I ran my hands down my face before I walked up to the garland clad door.  Oh! There she is, man, she’s even more beautiful than I remember, her hair was half up and her natural curls were soft.  Christmas light strands hung around the dark shop as the coffee scent filled my nose comforting my anxiety.  She stood up with a bright grin plastered across her face as she gestured to the two coffees and pastries sitting in front of her.  I sped up my walk, if there weren’t a few people in my way, I would have ran to her.  My arms embraced her, while I place a gentle kiss on her cheek, “Wow! This life looks good on you.”

(Y/N) pushed back a non-existent strand of hair behind her ear, as she looked down, “Don’t you mean, I look fat.”

“I was going to say healthy.  You were always too skinny.” I chuckled, damn those extra pounds filled out those jeans just perfectly.  My hands slipped down her waist, wanting so badly to touch her in all the ways that I was too chicken to do before.

I sat down across from her, the heat from the fireplace cut through the slight chill in the air.  The amber flames back lit her face making (Y/N) look like an old painted portrait. Her cheerful voice brought me back from my daydream, “I got you an apple turnover, it’s the closest thing they had to pie.  I hope you like it.”

“Oh yeah, it looks good.” I responded being honest, she always knew the way to heart.

I couldn’t help but get distracted by the twinkle in her eyes as she got excited about her job as a bookkeeper.  We talked about hunts and she told me about her last hunt in Arizona, about a month ago and how a vamp had her pinned but she used her legs to wrap around him forcing him to choke out.  She may had gone straight but she hadn’t completely gotten out of the life.

“You know I had a dreams about you.” (Y/N) admitted, “Well I mean, you and Sam.” She backtracked as a small nervous laugh passed over her lips.

“Yeah, me and Sam.” I said with a chuckle.  The amount of dreams I had about her was probably obscene.

“Come on you know what I mean, Dean.” She swatted my arm, as her mind went straight into the gutter after my comment.

“Yeah, I really do.” My voice was slow, I didn’t want her to think I was joking. “The amount of times I walked into your room, or looked back in the rear view and you weren’t there are too many to count.”

“Awwww, Dean.” (Y/N) sat forward touching my hand.  “I missed you too.”

I was lost. Lost in her (Y/C/E) eyes, as I watched those plump glossy lips speak, why didn’t I kiss those lips years ago.  I should have been kissing her all along, maybe she would have stayed. I nervously, ran my hand over my thighs feeling the rough denim.

“Sam!” Her head darted from my gaze and her fingers left my hand. She stood waiting for my lumbering ogre of a brother to walk over to her. “Hey handsome!” She was giddy as Sammy pulled her into a hug.  

Sam sat in the chair next to me. “Dude, I thought you were going to give me an hour.” I whispered.  

“Really dude, look at your watch.  I gave you over two.” Sam came closer to my ear. “It’s not like an extra hour will help you seal the deal that 4 years couldn’t do.”

“Shut your face.” I muttered just loud enough for him to hear.

Sam snorted, “Dean, we probably have to hit the road, soon unless you want to stay.”

“Yeah, yeah! I understand, guys.  It was just nice to see you guys again.” She tried to keep a smile but I could tell she didn’t want us to go.

“You could always join us.” Sam suggested.

“Look at her Sammy! She’s happy.  She wouldn’t want lumpy motel mattresses and cheap fast food all the time.  Hell, I wouldn’t be able to go back to that.” I argued on her behalf.

“Thanks Dean for understanding!” (Y/N) eyes were sad still forcing a smile.

I received one last firm loving hug from her before we left each other one more time.  She drove off, and we got in Baby, “Ok so what cha want to do?” Sam asked.

“I guess we head home.” I said defeated.

“Or we stay the night.” Sam offered, “You want to. Don’t lie. There is a motel down the road.”

After I checked Sam in, I drove the short distance to (Y/N)’s apartment, where I found myself pounding on her front door.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming!” She yelled through the door.  Her eyes were clearly surprised when she saw me, “Dean, I thought you and Sam were leaving town.” She rubbed her arms, wrapping her cardigan tight around her, she was always so shy.

“We were but…” Oh shit, just do it.  I reached for her, drawing her close to me, I tilted my head and closed my eyes while my lips went on auto pilot kissing her the way I had only dreamt about hundreds of thousands of times over.

My lungs burned as it felt like we kissed for hours, “Dean,” she spoke breathless, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come back with us.  I know you built a life here but I’ve missed you so much more than you know.” I kissed her again and again.  I didn’t want to let her go and I really didn’t want her to say no.

“Dean!” she giggled thinking about her answer. “I missed you too.  I want to but I don’t know.”

Her lips grazed over mine, “You don’t have to answer tonight. I know I should have done this a long time ago.” She nodded agreeing that I had been fool for not kissing her before now, “I just need to be with you. I just want to have a Merry Christmas with you.”

Hands wandered over my back as lips were firmly pressed against mine, she was giving me her answer, and she didn’t have to say a word. 

I love all the likes and reblogs but I really do want your feedback. Please leave me a comment; let me know what worked or what didn’t. If you hated it let me know what I could do different. It may determine how I write my next fic.

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[shadows-taller]

Shield Farms

Okay so here’s a little something I dug up just recently and thought I’d share with you all. Beats me if I’ll ever finish it but I figured it was pretty good and you all might want to see it. It’s a Stucky AU (what else lmao) about horses and the desert, both of which are things I have personal experience in.

Let me know what you think! Also if you have any ideas for where this should go lol I need all the help I can get.

Steve wakes up in a cold sweat on top of his duvet, again, and resolutely can not go back to sleep. A glance at the clock tells him it’s 2:45 in the morning, a good two hours before anyone else is going to be conscious. He huffs, resigned to a fate of laying in bed until the sun’s light peeks over the desert horizon out his window.

The nightmare had been no different than it was every other night. Bright pinpricks of light flashed behind his eyelids, the heavy roar of gunfire and screaming echoing in his ears. Monty, Morita, Jones, Falsworth, and Dum-Dum. His team, his unit, his brothers-in-arms. Their faces, twisted up in agony, each shot somewhere bad, each losing blood faster than Steve can stop it. He rushes to dress their wounds, along with a field nurse in her own fatigues, and they even get the men out of the enemy's’ line of fire. But the grenade flies in and Steve sees it too late, too late to do anything but turn his back and cover his head with his elbows. That’s always where the dream ends, either with his screaming or silent, terrified shaking.

He usually lies there a while simply to regain control over his emotions.

It’s an hour later when he begins to think about his day ahead. Tony said he’d go check out the new trailer company today, a higher-end service recommended to Steve after their previous driver was pulled over for driving drunk on his way back from Kentucky. The whole mess had been horrible, a PR shitshow if they’d ever seen one. Tony also said he’d check up on Revenant, the stallion Shield Farms was going to breed with Macy’s Day, their best mare. Revenant is a behemoth from a farm across the county, a black thoroughbred with a mean streak in him but the sire of some of the fastest horses in Del Mar. If Steve can land this collaboration with Asgard it’ll be a win on both sides, as more owners will line up to mix genes with both Macy’s and Revenant.

There’s also the whole water situation. Due to the fact that the drought and forest fires have baked the land and soaked up all the water, the State of California has begun regulating how much water places like Shield Farms can use. There can’t be any more dripping hoses, unattended spigots, or dumping of perfectly good washing water. Nat’s handling that one, emailing the State to get special permits during race season when water is needed most. But the government is being very strict about the water usage, which means more headaches for Steve because he’ll have to keep reminding everyone not to waste any water whatsoever, thank you very much. He’ll have to put laminated signs up. He hates laminating things, makes him feel like a third-grade teacher.

Steve’s not too focused on the upcoming dressage show in Escondido, as he knows Wanda and Sharon are working their asses off as always. They’ve won regional titles the last five years, and Wanda even made it to second in Nationals a few years back. They’re aiming even higher this summer, for not only Nationals but International competitions as well.

Steve runs through his list of things to do. Balance accounts, pay bills, check up on the boarders’ payments, hire new trainer…

Hire new trainer. Fuck, that’s right, Hodge walked out last week. Steve was almost glad when that happened, even as dramatic as it had seemed. The guy was a bully to horses and people. It’d been Tony’s idea in the first place to hire him. He’d had a resume a mile long, ranging from working as a mustang wrangler to training at farms like Calumet and Gainesway in Kentucky. But just last week he’d had a tantrum about the construction of the arena (as if there was any way in high heaven to change that), and Steve had very bluntly told him to either suck it up or leave. Gilmore Hodge had chosen the latter.

But now they need a new trainer. A specialty trainer, to boot. Someone willing to work with the worst of the worst.

Thoroughbreds are notoriously moody. They’re bred to be fast, to race, which comes along with it high energy and a larger chance for genetics to go wrong. Breed a gentle mare with a hot-headed sire, you could get one disposition or the other, and vice versa. There’s always foals who grow up to be too excitable and/or dangerous to be used in a prestigious setting, but Steve’s never believed in giving up on anything. Hence the reason why he’s always got a trainer on hand to deal with the reject pile, make them into something someone could potentially buy as a project horse. Or, when Shield periodically invests in a mustang, someone to smooth out the first few weeks before a trainer more suited to the horse’s intended purpose would come in. Get the horse friendly and halter trained, as well as make note of the tics and buttons one shouldn’t push.

In other words, they need a very specific skill set. And nerves of steel.

Natasha probably knows someone, he thinks. She brought in Sam, Clint, America, and Wanda, some of their best people. Steve would still be in some studio apartment in Carlsbad, making just enough on commissions to scrape by, if it weren’t for her. If she hadn’t pulled him up by the bootstraps and forced him to see his own true potential, and that he didn’t have to refuse what was his out of spite. That it was fucking idiotic to refuse what was lawfully his out of spite. He owes Natasha his entire life, and trusts her to know where to go.

Steve looks over at the clock again. It reads 4:00 A.M. and he can just see the beginnings of color in the sky. He sits up and stretches, fully awake now.

His clothing of choice this morning is Adidas soccer pants (a gift from Nat on his birthday last year), a gray tank that fits tightly over his chest, and his running shoes. A morning run is essential to his routine, it gets him going and ready to face the day. Besides, how else will he stay in shape if all he ever does is sit cooped up in his office doing bills? Steve decides to see if Tony knows anyone that could help out with bookkeeping. That could be very useful.

His breakfast consists of granola and strawberries in plain yogurt with some orange juice. No one else seems to be up as he moves around the kitchen, which isn’t surprising. Tony usually gets up next after Steve, around five. Steve’ll already be on his run by then.

His route goes along the entire circumference of the farm, doubling back behind the stables and winding off into the orange and lemon grove. It follows a trail along the irrigation system, then out of the trees and up into the foothills. Steve usually follows the dirt trails back to the main road and arrives back at Shield in time to help out with morning feeding and water-checks.

He sets off from the main house as soon as he’s done rinsing out his breakfast dishes, and jogs down the front steps with his earbuds in and phone strapped safely to his bicep. The peaceful tenor of Jim Croce’s voice sets the mood of the morning; surrounded by glowing mountains and the sharp aroma of sage, Steve is all alone in his thoughts.

Ever since he was a kid, Steve has always loved the desert he grew up in. Southern California isn’t exactly a forgiving place, what with the temperatures that soar above 110 in summer and wildfires that rage for days on end. But Steve finds comfort in the heat, a constant force surrounding him, reminding him like the mountains do of his potential. Pushing him to do more than he thinks he can. Growing up poor meant no pool, no air conditioning, and little more than ice cubes and a box fan to keep cool. Stark claims Steve’s more comfortable in the sweltering midday sun than he is in a cool office for this reason, and he’s not incorrect. Steve prefers manual labor to desk work, and sports an impressive tan across his whole body because of it. He’s always believed in doing things himself and knows it’s the best way to get things done.

He comes to the spot where the trail curves off into the trees, and makes the turn as the song changes to something Hozier.

Steve breathes in the scent of lemon and orange. This grove is, along with the boarding stables and bets from races, one of Shield’s primary sources of income. They sell the fruit to local businesses, from bars to restaurants and cafes, as well as at various farmers’ markets. Banner runs the whole operation, as the guy’s got a thumb greener than the Green Giant’s and is scared shitless of horses. If he weren’t Steve’d offer the guy a position in the general offices, but that involves actually seeing the animals, which Bruce avoids at all costs. He’s in charge of paying the workers they hire to keep up the trees and fruit, as well as coordinating who they sell to. It gives Steve peace of mind, knowing he can go on his run through here and not worry about who’s working on what and whether or not things are going smoothly.

The grove comes right up to the base of some hills, not quite big enough to be called mountains, but still a challenge when it comes to running or biking on them. Steve likes to wind his way through, finding meandering paths that only fit one vehicle or a pair of horseback riders in the rare off-chance that someone comes up this way.

His head is full of music, his favorite Beatles song just beginning, as he rounds a curve and slows down at the sight in front of him.

A rusted blue pickup sits idle off on the shoulder, a faint trail of smoke leading from the engine just barely visible in the early morning sunlight.

Doesn’t have a point of view

Knows not where he’s going to

Isn’t he a bit like you and me?

Steve tugs the earbuds out of his ears and lets them hang over the collar of his shirt as he approaches the truck. Just barely he can hear someone moving around on the gravel, still out of his line of sight but footsteps eerily loud in the otherwise silent area. It’s almost unnerving, this unfamiliar truck on such an unused road at this time of day. Steve braces himself, tensing, ready to fight off some guy with a cleaver or similar.

He comes around the side of the truck to see something he wasn’t expecting.

A man, not much older than him, is muttering to himself something intelligible and running a hand through his long, black-brown hair. He’s pacing, cold eyes fixed on the engine which by now Steve can see is steadily releasing smoke. The guy seems utterly distraught, scared, even, so much so that he hasn’t noticed Steve yet.

Steve clears his throat. “Need any help, there?”

The man stops dead in his tracks and his head whips up, hand retreating lightning-fast from his brown locks. He looks like a deer caught in headlights, blue eyes almost glowing.

Steve nods to the engine. “That doesn’t look too good. I know a mechanic, I can get ‘ya a discount too. Just gotta throw ‘er in neutral and push a couple miles.”

The man swallows audibly, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. Steve can see defined muscle under his white t-shirt, from his abdomen to his chest to his arms and shoulders. He’s wearing blue jeans as well, work-worn Levis by the looks of it. Steve raises an eyebrow expectantly.

“Uh, yes. That would - that would be nice, thank you.” A Russian accent rolls off the man’s tongue, thick and silky and deep. Steve nods, hoping the dim morning light hides the heat on his face at the sound of the man’s voice. The man closes the hood, then climbs into the cab to shift the truck into neutral. He hops out with catlike grace, more agile than anyone has any right to be at five thirty in the morning. Together they move to the rear bumper, one on either side of the trailer hitch. Before they begin pushing, Steve holds out his hand to the stranger.

“I’m Steve, good to meet you.”

The man takes his hand and shakes, even if it is tentative. “Likewise. You can call me Bucky.”

Bucky. An undeniably American name, for someone so obviously foreign. Steve wonders if it’s a nickname, or if it’s even his name at all; maybe it’s just the first thing that popped into his head.

He doesn’t miss the uncertain gleam in Bucky’s eyes, or the way he’s the first one to let go of the handshake.

-

The truck is heavy, as trucks usually are, so by the time they’ve made it to Peggy’s shop both men are glistening with sweat. Bucky’s breath is labored next to him, and Steve imagines his own is much the same.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of two fine men this early in the morning?” Peggy’s British accent floated through the garage, and Steve huffed a grin. Trust Peggy to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed no matter the time of day. He’d known her ever since he got home from Afghanistan, from the moment he’d walked in looking for a repairman for his convertible. He’d been in town with Nat, looking at the old Rogers place (a run-down farmhouse and barn at the time, within eleven months it had become Shield Farms), when his beloved VW had sputtered to a halt right outside Peggy’s door. The rest was, as they say, history.

“We’ve got a pickup problem, Pegs. Was on my morning run and came across Bucky here, who was looking pretty worse for wear. Decided to help ‘im out and bring his truck here. It was smoking like this -” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, at the engine in question “- when I got there.”

Peggy hums, emerging from behind a tractor with a crease between her brows. She’s got grease on her hands and coveralls, but somehow her face and makeup are as flawless as always. Steve’ll never understand how she manages it.

Bucky’s been silent the whole time. He stands slightly off to the side, arms crossed over his chest.

Peggy looks at him. “What exactly happened, and when?”

Bucky shrugs. “I was driving along the road Steve found me on, and the engine started sp - spewing this white smoke. The engine overheating symbol came on, too. I pulled over immediately and opened the hood. All I could see was the smoke and some liquid leaking, but I’m not experienced enough to know from where.”

Steve noticed Peggy’s brows bounce up at hearing Bucky’s accent. He wants to hear it forever, wants to record Bucky singing Hey Jude or Carolina In My Mind and listen to it for hours on end. It reminds him of fancy hotels in LA, all bright lights and red wine and jazz music. He could drown in Bucky’s voice, lose himself in it. Steve pictures sitting in his living room at home and listening to Bucky read anything, fuck, he could read the dictionary and Steve would listen with rapt attention. He wonders what it’d sound like in the morning, or late at night, or in the middle of -

Steve is pulled from his imaginings by the sound of Peggy’s voice. “- be two or three days before I can get the correct parts, and another after that to get your truck fixed. Is that alright?”

He sees Bucky nod once. Peggy must have diagnosed the problem and gotten Bucky to agree to a price, because they separate, Bucky to the front desk and Peggy to the truck. Steve trails after Bucky.

He’s sitting in a cushioned chair, filling out a form on his thigh. Steve drops down across from him. Bucky doesn’t look up, just keeps scribbling away. Steve wonders, not for the first time, where exactly Bucky is from, and where he’s going that he can afford to stop for four days before arriving. His truck has a New York license plate, but somehow Steve gets a feeling that’s not where Bucky comes from. Maybe his intuition is wrong. It rarely is, though, and this fact is what got him promoted to Captain within his first four years in the Army.

He decides to take a risk, just because he can.

“Hey, Bucky, so, uh, I was wondering if you’ve got a place to stay? The motels around here are nice, as far as motels go, but I’ve got an extra room at my place if you want.”

Bucky looks up from his writing, ice blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if questioning Steve’s intent. He takes a few long moments to reply.

“How much must I pay you?”

Steve immediately shakes his head. “No, no, pal. No need to pay me. This isn’t charity, just thought you might like a place nicer than a motel.”

Bucky contemplates that, obviously weighing his options in his mind. “You are sure?”

Steve nods, crossing his arms. “Of course. You can stay as long as you need.”

At that, Bucky gives him a look, something direct and it makes Steve shift nervously. Does Bucky think he’s taking advantage of him? Steve really hopes not, because not only does he know how dirty motels around here are, but because this could be an opportunity to get to know someone new. A friend.

Just then, Bucky nods sharply. “Alright. I’ll stay with you until Miss Carter has fixed my truck.”

Peggy walks in, almost as if on cue. “You nearly finished, Bucky?”

He goes back to the papers, signing here and there, and Steve watches with a small smile on his face.

[bloggerbro]

Free online jobs for students without investment

Official Site

Welcome back to my Article today we're going to be Read about seven online jobs that you can do it home that pay at least one hundred dollars per day.

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 I'm really excited to be sharing this list with you today, guys, because i know that you always love when i've share ideas for how you could make money at home,and i've done a few different Article like this in the past.

One of them was some of the highest paying work at home jobs and then another one was some of the easiest or get home jobs, but today i just wanted to break it down really simply share seven jobs that pay at least one hundred dollars, her day, because i know that that is kind of a minimum out that a lot of people would want to earn to make working at home a truly viable option for supporting themselves full time now, the only things that these jobs really have in common are you khun do them from home and they will pay you at least one hundred dollars per day.

                                   

 Aside from that, this is a really eclectic list that includes a lot of different options that would appeal to really different types of people, so if the first couple of jobs don't appeal to you, just keep on watching because i'm sure that you will find one that will be great fit for you and one last thing before reed eminent the list of jobs if you'v been around here it all, then you probably know that every month i teach on online workshop and one of my most popular workshops ever has been my how to get started making money online workshop and this month i decided to do something really special and actually offering a slightly condensed version of that workshop completely for free. 

Now normally i charge any where between thirty and two hundred dollars for these workshops just depending on what the topic is and how extensive they're going to be. But this workshop has been so popular and it seems to be topic that you guys were so interested in that i decided to offer,like i said, a condensed version of it for free. So if that's something you're interested in, then just keep Read until the end of the video and i will be sure to share all the details of that with you all right, so let's jump on in and talk about the seven jobs that you can do from home that will pay you at least one hundred dollars per day the first job on my list is bookkeeper now a bookkeeper is just someone who helps a business or an individual keep their finances organized. 

                        

Basically, there are many different ways that you can learn how to become a book keeper you can actually get a two or a four year degree that will teach you everything you need to know, or there are lots of shorter term training programs that teach you how to be a bookkeeper and as little as three or six months, and there's also the option to actually just learn on the job booking burst typically earned about twenty dollars per hour and it's something that you cannot do from home, either for local clients or you can do from home, working with remote clients and communicating with the monline. 

                         

And just so you're aware there are different types of financial professions,such as an accountant or bookkeeper or financial advisor, and many of them do require some type of certification or other prerequisite, but there actually isn't any such restrictionson being a bookkeeper. 

Anyone can be a book keeper as long as they know what they're doing.Job number two is something that i love to include, because i think it pays a lot more than a lot of people realize and that's to be a Article. Now, clearly, i have a Article and it's, one of my sources of income, my Article right now, with about seventy five thousand subscribers, is paying me a bit over three thousand dollars per month,and i think that seventy five thousand subscribers is a number that really, anyone can attain if they put in the work and they learn what it takes to become successful on Article.

                         

The reason that i mentioned that my channel makes three thousand dollars a month is because that is equivalent to one hundred dollars a day. 

However, just for reference, i'll share that when my channel on lee had about twenty thousand subscribers, i wass making about fifteen hundred or so dollars every single month, which is a quite decent wage for someone who has a very small you t j also, i can't not mention that even though is one hundred dollars per day it's a lot more per hour than a lot of these other jobs, because i only put about two hours per day into running my Article, so that means that i'm turning around fifty dollars an hour. 

                                   

If you want to learn more about how to start a Article and make money from it, then i'll leave a link there in the corner and probably couple down below. Also, i have a few different videos. One is all about the behind the scenes of my Article analytics, and i share exactly how much i make each month, and then in another Article, i share tips on starting you to channel that actually makes money. The third job on my list is that of transcriber now transcriber is someone who listens to audio. This could be audio from a speaker at a conference or simply someone reciting something that they want to be Subscribe. 

There's definitely a lot of different applications of this and there's also a whole lot of websites that helped to facilitate people who work as transcribers,finding work of transcribers with people who want to hire a transcriber. Now, typically,a transcriber earns an average of about thirty dollars per hour. It depends on which website you go with. Some pay as little as nine dollars per hour, and some pay as much as about fifty dollars per hour, but i'll leave links to several of those Article. 

                         

Job number four is chat customer service now a lot of people don't like answering thephone, and even though they're aware that there are a lot of jobs they could do from home, answering the phone for different cos they don't really want to go that route, buta great alternative is to be a chat customer service representative. The main difference is you don't actually have to talk to the people on the phone instead, you're just chatting with them over the internet, and you're probably used this service many times.

 If you've triedto contact a company such as most any clothing or technology company on the internet these days, many companies hire people to work from home and provide these services to their customers,and they typically pay around fifteen dollars per hour. And again, oliva, linked to a fewre source, is that you can check out to learn more about these chat customer service job opportunities down in the description. 

                        

The fifth job on my list is something very specific,but i think it might appeal to a lot of people it's to be ah home stylist for stitch fixor for some similar service. Now what the services dio is they offer custom selected pieces of clothing to customers and the home stylists take a look at the customers, profile it aside, what piece is the person who might be interested in buying and wearing and then stitch fix actually sends them out to the customer. 

Now the reason i mentioning stitch fix in particular is because they've actually publicly shared information about the fact that they hire people like this and the fact that they pay them about fifteen dollars an hour to do this work from home and, of course, only the link down below where you can find out more information about stitch fix is well.

 Job number six on my list is to be an online course creator now all the jobs on my list this one probably has the most wildly vary in income most of these other jobs i can say you know you'll get paid about fifteen dollar san hour or about thirty dollars an hour but as an online course creator there is so much opportunity for growth and you can make an enormous amount of money i mean we're talkin gtens of thousands of dollars every month if you're really good at it but if you are good at it then you might make no money however that being said if you use a proven strategy for building your brand and getting yourself out there and you make it decently good courses.

                        

Then you can easily expect to earn about five to ten thousand dollars per month if you want to learn more about how to become an online course creator and the strategy is to use to actually become successful at it on the best resource i can probably recommend to you is for you to join the free workshop that i'm doing soon so just stick around till the end of the video so that i can share with you exactly what's going on that and how you can join it all right and the seventh and final job on my list is that a virtual assistant now what a virtual assistant does is they help someone too basic tasks, such as answeringe mail will our proof reading or may be working on managing a small project, and they do soremotely, of course, there's loss of executives and other types of professionals that have assistants who work in the office. 

But these days, with a lot of people working from home,there is a big job opportunity for people to do virtual assistant now, a common objection that i've gotten when i have shared his people. 

The opportunity of being a virtual assistant is that there is a lot of competition, and lots of people basically are trying to be virtual assistance, even if they're not very qualified, and that that can really drive down the possibility for making money in this way. However, based on the experience of many of my clients, i would say it all depends on how your marketing yourself and where,if you're just listing yourselves on a site like freelancer dot com or up work dot com,then you probably can't expect to make more than about seven or twelve dollars per hour,which probably would not be enough for most people, however, there are other sites that helped to connect more skilled virtual assistance with people who are looking for virtual assistants who they can really count on. 

And if you sign up with one of these services and they helped to place you with a good client, then you can earn a whole lot more at least fifteen dollars per hour, if not twenty or twenty five or thirty dollars per hour. And of course,there's always the other option of building up your own network and finding clients that way.

And typically virtual assistants who go about their marketing in that way earned between twenty and thirty dollars per hour. All right, so that brings us to the end of my list of seven, jobs that you can do working for home that pay you at least one hundred dollars. Now first off in one of those jobs stood out to you. We're seemed interesting

Then make sure you leave me calm it down below just to share and then beyond that, if you have any questions about how to get started with one of those jobs. Also, i'd love to see it com in from you down there. I answer as many comments as i possibly can some days that is every comment i get other days, i can't get to them, but i answer as many as i can, so if you have a question, please leave it down below.

 And if i can help you, quite possibly someone else can. Also, of course, if you like this video, please hit the thumbs up button to let me know if that will help me know that she want to see more videos like this in the future, and it also helps other people find this video to all right. And then finally, i just want to share with you about the free workshop that i am doing very soon.As i mentioned, i teach these live workshops online every single month, and the most popular one that i've ever died is called how to get started making money online.

In this workshop,i really teach the entire system that i use with my clients to help them first build an audience and then monetize that audience and then scaled their business it's, a seven steps structure that really makes the process of building an online business quite black and white so that anyone can do it now. 

The bestselling version of this workshop is almost two hours long, and i really go into the nuts and bolts of it. But because this workshop has been so popular and it seems like you guys are enjoying it so much, i wanted to bring you kind of a condensed version to really walk you through the framework and help you understand the big picture of making money online.

                            

 So on a thursday, june fourteenth, i am going to be doing a lot one hour version of my house to get started making money. Online workshop this one hour work fat will be completely free, and i'm gonna put a link down below where you can sign up.

The workshop will be held on thursday, june fourteenth, at elevena m pacific standard time. And if you want even more details than just make sure you click that link down below, and i'll share some of the details of exactly what will be going over and exactly how you conjoined. If you're interested in learning how to get started making money online and finally be able to really take control of your life and take control of your schedule, then i invite you to join us for the workshop. Thank youso much for joining us for today's video. My name is gillian perkins, and i look forward seeing you again next time

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[kae-karo]

Demons and Diners: Nightmare Before Christmas

Nightmare Before Christmas 

Read Demons and Diners first! This is part 1.5 in the series.

5.4k word count

Summary: Dan's helping Phil get set up for the annual Christmas-ish party by decorating the mansion, but something about the way Phil's been treating him lately has started to grate on his nerves. TW descriptions of panic attack

“Phil? No, no, Phil what are you doing?” I laugh at him - he’s about four feet above the top of my head, trying to hang an incredibly ornate wreath in the grand ballroom. “No, it’s too low! The other one is much higher!” I step back a few more paces, trying to determine how level the other decorations are in comparison.

“You just said it was too high!” Phil protests, wings beating gently to keep him afloat. I’m distracted for a moment by the bright red pattern painted across the leathery membrane before I realize he’s lowering himself to the ground. “There, that’s good, right?”

I return my attention to the wreaths, which are actually pretty even now.

“Okay, yeah, those look fine,” I smile at him, and he disappears through the nearby portal - I’m told it leads to some huge storage warehouse (of course there’s one of those in this giant labyrinth). Phil emerges a moment later with what looks to be an enormous version of a Christmas tree base, and I furrow my brows in confusion.

Before their honeymoon, PJ had explained to me that this celebration was something like the human Christmas - a little less gift-giving, a little more focused on the ‘traditional’ aspects: family, festivities, and well-wishing. The newlyweds are due back at the end of the week, only two days away now, just before the party Phil’s throwing. I snort at the thought - for a guy who claimed to hate parties not but two months ago, he’s spent most of my time here searching for any excuse to gather everyone together and celebrate; I think we’ve had four events in the span of the last month, easily.

“Okay, we need the tree before we can finish decorating. I’ll go get that, maybe tomorrow?” Phil’s thinking aloud as he sets the heavy metal contraption in the center of the room - a space has been cleared, a very large one, and I try to imagine a tree that would actually fill it. Jesus, that’d be enormous. But if the rest of the decorations are any clue, I shouldn’t be surprised - the wreaths alone are larger than I am tall.

“Do you need my help with that as well?” I offer, since he’s been dragging me around for the past three days to decorate every corner of the mansion and diner. I cross over to him as he folds his wings, but they dematerialize the moment before I wrap arms around his waist. Though I’ve already seen him in full demon mode, he seems pretty unwilling to display that side of him around me unless it’s necessary.

His hands find mine across his stomach, and he twists in my loose grip until we’re face to face. Though I’m intent on watching his bright blue eyes, I can’t help but notice when a twinge of doubt crosses his features; I don’t comment. A smile quickly replaces it, followed by an annoyingly patronizing kiss. Okay, maybe I’m just assuming it’s patronizing.

“No, this is something I’ll probably need to do on my own, but thanks for offering,” he gives me a quick squeeze then shuts down the portal behind him. A gentle tug of his arm at my back prompts me into movement, and we’re both heading toward the stairwell.

“Are you sure? I don’t have to do anything, if it’s not safe or whatever,” for all the help he’s been asking of me, he keeps me far and away from the actual task at hand - like giving him directions for how to hang decorations while he hauls them into place. I can feel the way he’s babying me, as if I’m going to snap in two just from helping lift a heavy object or something.

And it’s infuriating. I get that I’m human, but Chris has been just fine here for hundreds of years, why am I any different?

“No, this will require a bit of a trip,” he smiles over his shoulder before descending the stairs in front of me, and I suppress a huff of annoyance. I’m not going to break, alright? You have no idea what I’ve been through, I’m tougher than you’re giving me credit for.

I want to say all those words, and maybe some more, but I just follow in frustrated silence.

“I’ve got some bookkeeping to take care of,” Phil begins as he stops in front of my room - though we’ve sort of been sharing his room, and he’s expanded it a bit to fit us both more comfortably, he insists I keep my own space just in case.

“That’s fine, I work in-” I pause beside him, checking my phone. “Shit, ten minutes, okay I’ll see you later!” I press a quick kiss to his cheek, and he chuckles at me before continuing down the corridor.

I quickly change into my uniform and take off down the hall. Despite working a fairly busy shift, my mind keeps flowing back to Phil and the way he’s been treating me. The moment I made the connection between his protectiveness and my being human, things keep popping up - the time he insisted I stay in my room while he investigated a potential attack on the diner (turned out to just be a drunk patron), when he refused to let me help Louise with a particularly challenging dish (there were live...creatures involved), not to mention the fact that he still never shows off his demon form in my presence.

Phil’s treating me like some breakable china doll. I set the bused plates down in the kitchen with a loud clang, rattling the metal table.

“Honey, what has got you so wound up?” Louise calls from across the kitchen, and I spin in a huff.

“It’s Phil,” I groan, and she throws her head back with a laugh. Bright white flashes in a way I wasn’t expecting, and I catch a glimpse of the long fangs hiding inside her mouth.

“Of course it is, nothing else would get you so hot and bothered,” she responds when she’s finished laughing. She waves her sous chef over - James, the cat-eyed man I had met several weeks ago - and he takes her place at the stovetop. Freed for a minute, she walks over; only once she’s stood in front of me, arms crossed against her chest and an eyebrow cocked, does she speak again.

“Alright, what’s going on? He being secretive? Done something mean? Stole your cereal?” She gasps at me, then leans in conspiratorially. “Did he do something in bed you didn’t fancy?” I was about to explain things until she said that last bit, now I’m just blushing furiously.

“No, no, nothing like that,” I mumble, suddenly incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, he’s...no, he’s fine in bed, I just…” I bury my hands in my face, mostly to shut myself up. Why on earth would I say that? Get it together, Dan, jesus.

“Well, out with it then, hon, I ain’t got all day!” She almost shouts it, and I’m wishing I had some magical ability to curl into a ball and disappear. Or a portal, to escape. Anything to keep the curious eyes of the kitchen staff from staring at us.

“I, uh…” I pause, about to tell her - but would she understand? She’s not human, either… I go for it anyway. “He’s treating me like I’m fragile, I think. Just because I’m human!” I try to sound indignant, but it comes across as whiny, and I curl my lip in annoyance.

“Well, you are human, and you have to remember how little time we all spend among humanity. Can’t really blame him for not knowing what all you can and can’t handle,” she reasons, fixing a hard gaze on me. I sigh, rolling my eyes. Of course she’s going to be all logical about it.

“Fine, fine, but how am I supposed to show him I’m not going to break the moment something slightly bad happens? I can’t very well just throw myself into some dangerous situation and hope I survive,” I say it aloud, but I’m suddenly wondering if I can’t do exactly that. If I show him I can handle something he’s deemed unsafe for humans, maybe he’ll reconsider?

“Oh no, I know that look,” Louise pouts at me, narrowing her eyes. “Whatever it is, do not expect me to help! I want no part in putting you straight into danger, love,” she spins on a heel, returning to her station and sending James back to his work.

I spend the rest of my shift rolling that idea over in my head, formulating a plan.

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

Though I went to bed alone, immediately after my shift - and fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow - I wake in Phil’s arms. I burrow into his chest, dreading actually getting up and hoping he’ll just stay asleep a bit longer. He’s not one to spend too long in bed, no matter how much I play the needy boyfriend; there’s always work to be done, and he’s always the one who has to do it.

“Morning, sleepy-head,” Phil’s gruff sleep-affected voice is amazingly seductive, though I know he doesn’t mean it that way. I let my thoughts wander, tracing a hand across his stomach. “None of that, now, I’ve got a lot to get done today,” he’s smiling down at me, eyes flashing red as he peeks into my head, and he catches my hand at the waistband of his sweatpants. And laces his fingers through mine. And pulls us both up to the safer territory of his chest.

“Mmmm come on, you can stay in bed another five minutes,” I grumble, nuzzling into his neck and sucking at it softly.

“Come on, yourself, babe,” he jokes, freeing my hand and lifting my chin so our lips are almost touching. “Besides,” his voice - if possible - has taken on an even huskier tone. “You know it’d take a bit longer than that.” A shiver shoots up my spine, and I try to close the gap between us; of course, he pulls away and presses a kiss to my nose instead.

Which is exactly what I needed, because I’m suddenly reminded of the masterful plan I came up with last night.

“You’re right!” I rush to say, and he looks at me with a cocked brow - and blue eyes, so I can safely continue the lie. “I mean,” I calm my tone a bit, “you still have to get the tree, and I told Louise I’d help her with a few things to prepare for the feast tomorrow,” I blink a few times, hoping I’ve hidden my real motives convincingly. And hoping he won’t actually go fact-checking with Louise. He furrows his brows, now, looking concerned as his eyes drift off to a spot on the wall behind me. Shit, I hope he’s not trying to figure out what exactly I’m helping with...given I literally have no clue what’s on the menu.

“Okay,” he nods after a minute of deliberation, and I realize he must’ve been actually considering whether he’d allow me to help her. Still treating me like a fragile little human, I push down the groan of frustration and force my face into an overly-cheery smile instead.

“Go on, I’ll be heading off to my room for a bit first,” I gesture at him to shower first, needing him out of the way and distracted so I can put my plan into action.

He plants another kiss on my cheek, then disappears into the bathroom. The moment I hear the water turn on, I stop by my room and grab some necessities before taking the fastest shower of my life and quickly dressing. The hallway is, inconveniently, very long and straight - nothing to hide behind. I open my door a crack and peek down toward Phil’s room. I hope he hasn’t left yet…

But he follows my expectations perfectly, not emerging for another five minutes. I try not to stare at his ass too much as he makes his way down the corridor, then sneak out behind him and close my door softly. He doesn’t seem to have heard me, so I follow cautiously. Once out the door, he heads right - toward the diner? Or the kitchen...he’d better not be checking with Louise…I rush out after him, breathing a sigh of relief when I notice the slight swing of the door leading to the diner.

As I pass the kitchen, though, I give it a quick once-over - good, no sign of him in here. The diner door swings open toward me, and I back away, ready to hide. Fortunately, it’s just one of the waitresses, and her entrance has allowed me a convenient way to slip in without drawing more attention to myself.

The door swings wide, outward, and I slip through and behind the counter. I pretend to focus very intently on a spot in front of me, hoping Phil’s not in a position to notice my presence. I wait for a few moments, under the guise of reorganizing some napkin holders and condiments, before I feel confident enough to check the room around me.

It’s bustling, right in the middle of the breakfast shift, and it takes me a solid three scans of the room to conclude that Phil isn’t here.

“Hey,” I nudge Jemma, who’s stood behind the counter and actually working. “Have you seen Phil this morning?” I hope my tone is casual enough, not too suspicious.

“Hey Dan, morning to you too!” She chirps. Far too chipper, all the time, I don’t know how she does it. I’m even having a bit of trouble looking at her too closely, with the way the lights are reflecting off her scales. “Yep, he was here just a bit ago, did you need something?” She’s fixed concerned eyes on me, and I want to scream. Why does everyone think I’m helpless?

“No,” I grind out, teeth gritted. Then inhale slowly. She’s being polite, there’s no reason to be mean to her. Not to mention she’s still my superior. And, if what Chris told me is true, she could kill me pretty quickly. I realize I’m staring at her mouth, which I’ve been told is hiding rows of shark-like teeth under a glamour. “No, no,” I hope I sound a bit calmer, kinder. “Uh, but which way did he go?” I definitely didn’t pass him in the hall, and if he went through a portal, I’m royally screwed. Shit, that didn’t even occur to me.

“Out the front door, of course!” She grins, and I try not to wince. It isn’t fair to her, that I’m actually a little nervous - especially given there’s no sign of her teeth. She’s been nothing but immensely kind to me, so I return the smile and rush off with a quick ‘thanks’ thrown over my shoulder.

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

It takes me all of three steps outside the front door to realize what I’m walking into. The aether. I haven’t seen it since the moment I tried to escape, right when I first arrived - the windows of the diner don’t give much view of the outside, aside from blackness. It could easily be midnight in a dark city, and that’s exactly how I’ve seen it up til now.

But now...now the blackness is overwhelming, and...well, it isn’t quite black. It’s dark, sure, but I can see swirling tendrils and fog and mysterious shapes, just far enough out of my view that I can’t get a good grasp on what they might be.

But that...that I’d recognize anywhere. Far off to my left, I spot a blob of black shot through with threads of red and orange and gold. Phil. I take another step, then turn back toward the diner. It’s a beacon of light in the terrifying darkness, and I’m sure I can find my way back if I get lost. So I take more confident steps toward Phil, allowing his wings to guide me.

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

I’ve been walking for a few minutes now, but the wings don’t seem to be getting any closer. If anything, the fog has only made them blurrier. Or perhaps I’ve been staring too hard. I can’t tell, I can barely see anything now - just the faintest hint of red a distance away. I think I’m going the right way, keeping the red in front of me, but I stop for a moment to try to piece together my surroundings.

Far off to my right, nothing but darkness. All around me, I think I can make out the spindly branches and thick trunks of some trees - though none look like the pines I imagined Phil would be searching for. After a brief check that the glowing wings haven’t disappeared, I check behind me.

My heart stops in my chest. The diner...it’s gone...At first, I can’t breathe. Then, all at once, I’m gasping and I can’t seem to exhale properly and my eyes are watering and I’m desperately searching for some kind of indication, just the faintest glow, that the diner is still back the way I came.

I stumble forward - rather, backward, toward where I thought the diner had been - but my feet get caught on some undergrowth, and I fall to the ground. When I manage to lift my head, which has begun spinning, my hazy vision searches for anything even remotely familiar. I turn back, clinging to the dirt beneath me as I collapse back on my ass in the middle of this hell-forest, hoping against all hope that the red glow of Phil’s wings will appear out of the darkness and rescue me.

Jesus christ, I am a fucking fragile human, look at me, I’m stuck in this mess and I can’t find my way back and I have no idea what to do and nobody knows I’m out here and I’m going to die and...I can’t stop the running narration in my head from pushing me further and further into a state of panic, and my dirt-covered hands lift from the ground to wrap around my knees. I can’t breathe properly, only short gasps, as I huddle into myself.

Within moments, I swear I can hear creaking around me - I don’t dare look up, but I know the trees - with their spiked and spindly branches - are reaching down for me, waiting to rip me apart. I deserve it, for thinking I could go out here by myself and survive. My breathing slows, though the pounding in my ears - must be my heartbeat - doesn’t; I squeeze my eyes shut, then collapse onto my side, still curled into a ball. The earth is dry but cool against my cheek, and I can feel the puffs of dust that hit my face each time a tear finds its way from the corner of my eye to the ground below.

I think I’m sobbing, now, but I can’t hear anything through the thunderous sound of my heart in my ears; it’s all-encompassing, and I try to focus on it instead of the coarse grip of the branches inevitably creaking their way down to grab me. Or worse, some...creature could be out here, waiting for a tasty little snack…

I bite my lip, hoping the pain will distract me, but now all I can hear is the heavy breathing of whatever terrifying being is surely approaching me now.

When something grabs my arm, I scream.

But the hand is soft, not clawed in a way that would have cut deep into my flesh, nor is it the scraping rough bark of a sentient tree trying to pull me limb from limb.

I blink my eyes open, frightened when red swims in my vision. Red, jesus, am I dead already?

But a gentle voice reaches through the pounding of my eardrums, and the tears manage to clear away from my eyes, and suddenly Phil is coming into focus; his hand is on my arm, and I can tell he’s speaking, but I shake my head and try to take a breath.

When I exhale, it’s another sob, and I squeeze my eyes shut and lean into him. His voice is clearer, now inside my head; he mutters soothing words and it relaxes me just a little. I barely notice when his arms wrap around me, lifting me easily.

It takes me longer than I’d like to admit - to be fair, though, I just had some kind of panic attack - to realize that Phil’s method of transportation is flight. My sobs have stopped, enough that they’ve just become small hiccups, and I open an eye experimentally. I’m being held like a baby  - so much for that attempt to show I’m not a fragile human - and we’re soaring high above the forested darkness below us.

I open my other eye, somewhere between exhilarated and terrified, and watch the growing light of the diner in the distance. I focus on it, as if it’s a lighthouse drawing us safely into harbor; I swear I don’t blink until we’ve settled on the ground at the front door. Phil doesn’t let me down, though, pushing the door open with an extended wing and pulling us both inside.

I shut my eyes once we’re inside, partly against the sudden brightness and partly against the shocked stares directed our way.

“Dan! Are you-” Louise bursts out into the diner, and I peek an eye open sheepishly. “Daniel James Howell, what on earth have you done?” Though her wrath is terrifying, and I’ll indubitably have a lot of explaining to do later, I’m far more nervous for the talk that Phil seems intent on us having right now.

He marches right past her, heading toward the living quarters, and doesn’t stop until he’s sat me down on his bed. I keep my gaze on the floor between us, arms wrapping around myself anxiously.

“Are you okay?” Phil’s voice is tight, like he’s holding back his anger. I don’t trust my own words, so I whisper a confirmation into my head. I certainly can’t meet his gaze. Which is why I’m so shocked when he tackles me back to the bed in a hug.

“Oh my god, oh my god I was so worried! When I heard you, out there, I thought you were…” he pauses, and I finally allow myself to look in his eyes - they’re bright red, like fire, but slowly threading through with rivulets of blue as he pulls back from my mind.

“Phil, I…” I start, though my voice is hoarse. Probably all the crying and screaming. My face flushes - not only have I failed completely in my attempt to show Phil how tough I am, I’ve probably set myself back so far that he’ll never let me out of his sight again. Not that I’d complain, but....I can already see him sealing me into a protective bubble just so I won’t accidentally scrape a knee or hit my elbow on something.

“I was so worried,” his eyes are glassy, now, like he’s about to start crying, and I take a deep breath to fight off my own tears. I put myself in danger, and scared him so much...he thought I might be dead…

“I’m so sorry,” I start, but he doesn’t let me say anything else - his lips are on mine in a desperate kiss, and I kiss back just as forcefully. I could’ve died, I could’ve died out there if he hadn’t found me. When I feel wetness on my cheek, it takes me a full ten seconds to realize it isn’t my own tears, though those have started to flow as well.

“I thought I lost you,” Phil’s whispering against my lips, mostly nonsense between kisses, but those words send a pang through me, a tear in my heart. I’m such an idiot.

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

PJ and Chris have just returned, which I find out not because anyone tells me, but because of a very obnoxious knocking on Phil’s door at some ungodly hour of the morning.

I groan when Phil leaves my side, pawing at his chest, but he just gives me a quick kiss and swings the door open. To a very angry-looking Chris, and a somewhat less angry-looking PJ. Although, for PJ, even that much expression is a bit frightening. I sit bolt upright in the bed, worried something horrible has happened. Or is happening.

Phil must have the same idea.

“What’s going on?” He asks, immediately shifting into business mode. PJ looks at me through the gap in the doorway, black eyes engulfing his usual bright green, and I grimace. Peej, look, I was just...I try to explain into my head, but he’s pulled out and focused on Phil before I get the chance. I guess he knows, anyway, if he saw what happened…

Chris, however, is not nearly as stoic as PJ. He actually pushes past Phil and into the room, standing in front of me with crossed arms.

“How dare you go out there, and scare the shit out of all of us?” He’s shouting, and I drop my eyes. Here’s the verbal lashing I was expecting from Phil...Chris chastises me for another full minute before PJ steps past Phil and wraps an arm around Chris’ shoulder. His movement makes me glance up, at which point I notice the angry tears in Chris’ eyes. He was that worried as well?

A small nod from PJ confirms it, and I feel a fresh wave of shame wash through me.

“I’m so sorry, Chris, I’m a complete twat for doing that to all of you,” I drop my head into my hands, then startle when I feel a soft squeeze at my shoulder. Before I can look back up, PJ is guiding Chris from the room, and Phil closes the door gently behind them. “I really didn’t-” I start, but Phil cuts me off.

“He’s right,” I look over to the intimidating presence at the doorway, still a little surprised Chris had managed to push past him. “That was idiotic of you, to put yourself in danger like that. Hell, I told you on the first day that the aether was dangerous,” he pauses, running a hand through his hair distractedly.

“I know, and I’m sorry, I just-” Phil cuts me off again, and I cross my arms in a huff.

“Yes, yes, I know, you were trying to prove a point. I understand I know nothing about your past…” Phil trails off, but this time it’s full of something unsaid.

“And?” I prompt. “I can’t read your mind, you know,” I know it’s a bit of a low blow, given that he actively tries not to read my mind too often, but I also know it’ll work.

“And you won’t talk about it!” I’m shocked by the words, enough that I don’t move when he sits down beside me. “I promised I wouldn’t look through your memories from before, but god I feel like I barely know anything about you!” He’s incredibly flustered, but I can’t focus on his concerns.

Instead, I burst out laughing. Which earns me a very confused look from Phil - a look that only prompts another bout of laughter, and I flop back onto the bed behind me. He continues staring, though I can barely see it through my squinted eyes. By the time I manage to get myself under control and sit up, my abs are burning. Phil waits for me to speak, and I have to take a few deep breaths before I can be sure I won’t lose it again.

“You...you know nothing about my past?” I get it out, though I feel the giggles bubbling up at the back of my throat. “This, coming from the immortal being who’s been alive for, how long?” I ask, partly for effect and partly out of curiosity. No matter how old, he’s at least been around for over half a century - he’s robbing the goddamn cradle. The thought starts another fit of giggles, ones I can’t seem to stop.

Phil stares at me for a moment before his mouth starts opening and closing like a fish out of water. Which causes me to collapse back onto the bed, full-on laughter wracking my body again. Before I can question the change in pressure, I feel Phil’s arm next to mine, and he’s laughing as well. It takes us a good three minutes to get ourselves under control, at least enough to speak.

“That,” Phil grins, still laying back on the bed but turned to face me now, “is a very good point,” I smile at him, trying to process the rollercoaster of emotions from the past twenty-four hours. Hell, I think I’ve experienced every single emotion that exists since I woke up in Phil’s arms yesterday.

“How about,” he suggests, and I blink at him, “we play a game,” I squint, then, intrigued but slightly on edge. “We can exchange stories from our past. I’ll tell you something about myself, then you tell me something about you,” There are some parts of my past...some I’m not sure I can talk about.

“It’s okay, I have some like that, too,” Phil must’ve been reading my mind, and I catch a hint of red as he turns his gaze away. “But we can start small, and work our way up to those things,” he rolls so he’s staring right into my eyes, and I do the same.

“Okay,” I say it softly, as if agreeing might open some kind of floodgate to every horrible, terrible piece of my past. “But,” I amend quickly, “please, if we do get into some of...that stuff, promise you won’t read my mind unless I say you can?” I don’t want him sifting through my memories unless I really can’t manage to tell them out loud. He’ll have to tell me his difficult memories out loud, it only seems fair. And I don’t want him to find anything I’m not quite ready to talk about.

“Agreed,” his smile puts the sun to shame, and I lean forward to press our lips together.

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

Phil leads me from the table out onto the dance floor - the floor that’s in exactly the spot the tree would’ve been, had Phil actually found one instead of having to drag my ass back to the diner. A twinge of guilt flickers through me, but I quickly bury it.

The feast was unreal, absolutely delicious - Louise had truly outdone herself, and I made sure to tell her so. As we reach the center of the floor, I realize nobody else has left their tables, despite the soft music now playing in the background.

“Phil, why are we the only ones dancing?” I mumble to him as we sway. He’s grinning, though, and before I can figure out why, his wings have unfurled and he’s lifting us both into the air. I cling to his neck tightly, suddenly a worried about falling.

“I would never let you fall, you don’t have to worry,” his eyes are red shot through with blue, and it’s incredible - I almost forget we’re hovering in the air, until my sights snag on something green at the edge of the ballroom. Trees.

They’re materializing in every corner of the room, dark green pines that rival every majestic Christmas tree farm I’ve ever seen. They aren’t decorated, though, which I chalk up to the differences between our Christmas and whatever they celebrate down here. They’re beautiful, I know Phil can conjure things, but this is...

“Amazing,” I breathe the word out, meeting Phil’s gaze again, and he smiles back at me.

“I could say the same of you,” he presses a chaste kiss to my lips, though he pulls me flush against him and it sends my thoughts spinning.

Just wait til later, he whispers into my head. My cheeks heat up, turning red to match his eyes, and he lets out a soft chuckle at my reaction.

I duck into his chest, leaning against his shoulder. We’re spinning slowly, and I notice the people on the dance floor below us. At first, I worry we’re making such a spectacle of ourselves, floating in the air like this, but we turn just enough that I see Ollie pulling Wendell into the air gracefully - though Wendell looks a bit flustered at being dragged away from coordinating the event for a dance.

In minutes, others have joined us in the air - those with abilities that allow it - and the tables are almost empty as the others dance below us. I can hear Phil’s heart beating against my ear, and I sigh contentedly.

This is something I could get used to.

[idorkish]

Little Munson - Chap 10 - Finale

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The past year had been hard for Angel and David. She understood his desire to get out of Charming. It had been something they had both talked about since she was 15. If anything, Angel was proud that David had joined the Marines. She wrote to him as much as she could and always looked forward to his letters back. Soon, he would be visiting again and Angel could barely contain her excitement.

The days where she would get a phone call were few and far between but Angel looked forward to the few minutes they could talk. Angel spent most of her summer at the clubhouse, waiting for David’s calls to come through. They would talk of their plans for when Angel and him could both finally get away from Charming, away from the stigma that the club brought on them both. David still wanted to go to college after he was done with the Marines. Both he and Angel had their eyes set on somewhere in Arizona. It was close enough that they could visit when they wanted, and there were Sons in Arizona if anything happened. But it was far enough that their last names meant nothing.

When David told her that he would be coming home for a bit, she was ecstatic! David would finally be back in Charming and she could wrap her arms around him once more. Bobby smiled when he saw Angel buzzing around the house and the clubhouse, tidying up and rearranging to keep herself busy. Work at Luanne’s had been busy, as there were so many new girls that Luanne had also asked Angel to help with making sure all the paperwork was filled out, that everything had a copy, and that everything was where it needed to be. Angel had been working with Luanne for so long that she also helped with bookkeeping, another thing that made Bobby smile with pride.

The day David arrived back in Charming, Precious accompanied Angel to the airport to welcome him home. When Angel and Precious arrived, Angel was the first to spot the Hale family, even Jacob was there. Angel had kept in touch with David’s mother and father but had refused to ever acknowledge Jacob. Every time she saw him, she always felt awkward and creeped out.

Precious nudged Angel toward the family and they all exchanged pleasantries. Angel gave Mr. & Mrs. Hale a hug, and just waved to Jacob, refusing to get within his reach. The five of them waited and when David was finally in sight, Angel could barely contain herself and ran to meet him, calling out his name. David was talking to another man as they walked toward all the waiting families but when he looked up and caught sight of Angel, the biggest smile formed on his face and he dropped his bag, running toward Angel and wrapping his arms around her as he lifted her off the ground. David clutched her tightly against his body and pressed kisses to any part of her face that he could. “I missed you so much!” Angel sobbed into his neck, her hands gripping at his jacket. The man beside them smiled and lifted David’s bag for him, “I got this man, seems your hands are full.” David laughed and kept his hold on Angel as they continued walking toward their families.

He would be home for a week before he had to report back. They had already spent the majority of the week together. David refused to let Angel stray to far from him. He had been without her hugs and kisses for too long and he wanted to make up for that lost time. The club had agreed he could spend a night or two at the clubhouse so he could see everyone and catch up. Almost all congratulated him on joining and welcomed him back. Gemma had welcomed him back and gave his cheek and affectionate slap as she lectured him about leaving her baby girl all alone. Clay proclaimed that they needed a party to welcome him back and refused to back down even with protests from Angel and David, who just wanted time alone. The first night at the clubhouse, Angel had agreed to stay.

They laid in bed that night and just talked. David couldn’t believe that she was back in his arms. They talked of their plans for the rest of the year. Angel finally agreed she would be talking to Precious and Bobby about leaving for school. She would be able to start during the winter semester, that way she could find her own place. Angel had been smart with her money and had enough saved up. They stayed up late talking, trying to catch each other up on everything that they couldn’t through their letters or phone calls. They fell asleep that way and Clay found them tangled up the next morning, thankfully with all their clothes on.

The party was a full day event. Many of the major families in Charming had actually come out. It was town gossip that a Hale actually joined the service and was now back for some time before being deployed. David did his best to smile and be friendly but it was harder the more he noticed that Angel was always being pulled away by some random kid, who continued to wrap his arms around her. Jax and Opie had laughed, letting him know that the kid, “Kyle” was his name, was just a prospect like them and had tasked with babysitting the Munson family since Bobby was away so much.

David sat at the picnic table, clutching the can in his hand. He was doing his best to ignore the new prospect talking about Angel but every word out of his mouth drove David closer and closer to losing his temper.

“Yea. Angel is a great chick. We spent all night together,  ya know what I mean. It was just her and I all night. The kiddo was asleep the whole time for us.”

The cocky grin on the prospect’s face as he talked to the crow eaters ate away at David. He trusted Angel. They had been apart for some time but she would never cheat on him, right? He tried to push those thoughts out of his head. He was sure Jax and Opie would tell him if anything happened. Then again, those were HER brothers. They would do anything to keep her safe and happy, even if it meant withholding the truth from David. The longer Angel was away and Kyle was attached to her, the more David couldn’t contain his anger.

David stood up from his seat and stormed into the club house. He knew she would probably be in the kitchen helping out so that was the first place he looked.

“Hey, have you seen Angel?”

Jodi, one of the newer girls, was the first to speak up. “Yeah. I saw her and Kyle heading to the dorms. Said something about needing privacy or whatever.”

David cursed under his breath and made his way back out to the main room. He felt his chest tighten as he made his way back toward the dorms. Could it be true? Was Angel actually seeing Kyle as well? Did everyone know and they just didn’t want to tell him? David stopped in his tracks as he looked down the hall. Angel was leaning back against the wall, laughing at something that prick was telling her. David clenched his fists as he watched Kyle lean in and whisper something into her ear. Angel blushed and smiled up at him, biting her lip. David was seething and his fist were clenched.

Angel looked up and saw David storming down the hall. Before she could say anything, he had Kyle by the shirt and was tossing him on the ground. Soon his fists were connecting with Kyle’s face. “What the fuck David!” Angel screamed as she tried to pull David off of Kyle. She wasn’t sure what caused him to freak out and punch him. “Davey! David! Stop!” She screamed louder, drawing the attention of everyone else. David pushed her hands away and stayed on top of Kyle, his fist smashing against the other’s face. Angel looked up and saw her dad and Clay running toward them and pulled David off him.

“What the hell is going on back here? Why is my Prospect bleeding out on the floor?”

David shrugged both men off of him and glared at Angel. “Ask these two. I’m out of here.”

Angel stood there, staring as David made his way out the clubhouse, “I don’t know. Kyle was telling me a joke and saying he overheard that David has a surprise for me...He knows I’ve been feeling anxious about David coming home and then leaving and he wanted me to calm down. A-an-and then David just comes storming over…” Bobby pulled his daughter into his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead.“Shh pumpkin, it’s ok.”

Angel pushed away from her father and wiped her face, “No, it’s not.” Angel was determined to find out what was going on. Before either Bobby or Clay could stop her, Angel was running out of the clubhouse and after David. “Stop! Hey! David, what the fuck!” She grabbed his arm and spun him to face her. David looked at her face and he broke on the inside. He hated being the reason she cried but this was as much as he could take: the rumors, the snide comments from everyone. It was all getting to him and it seemed they were all in on a secret against him.

“I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. You want to stay in this life, you want to stay stuck in this town and get sucked up into that club, fine! You keep on the road you’ve started. I’m not going to rescue you Angel!”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know what’s going on. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of your so called “family” always testing me, as if I haven’t been around longer than the whores and that fucking prospect! I have long ago proved that I was in this for the long run but I get shit on. Constantly! No matter what I have done to help or what I do, I get shit on by these fuckers. EVERY FUCKING TIME! I am fucking done. I know where you stand. I know who you now stand with. The whole “us against the world”... I can tell that was bullshit to you. It was never going to be us Angel! It was always going to be THEM and you. Not ME and you. I. Can’t. Do. This! I am done. They can all go FUCK THEMSELVES! And when you finally get your head out your ass and realize that all they’re going to do is hold you back, then come find me. Just know this, I refuse to wait for you any longer. I guess this is great though! I leave in a couple days anyway, just got assigned a mission. So you’re free now Angel. Fly away. Do what you want without me tying you down. Not like that has been stopping you anyway.”

Angel stood in silence as David walked off to his car. He was leaving. That was the only thing running through her mind. She had just got him back and he was leaving. And there was a possibility that he would not be returning, especially to her. “I need you…please...” she whispered to nothing and to no one.

Bobby and Clay stood behind Angel, having overheard the whole conversation. Bobby watched his daughter stare off into the distance, the two had been near inseparable over the past few days. To hear David talk to his little girl like that, to hear his little girl get berated by the boy she was head over heals in love with…Bobby didn’t know how to deal with this.

“That motherfucker never sets foot here again. He does, he will regret it.” It was Clay who spoke and all Bobby could do was nod.

When Bobby took a step toward his daughter, all he could hear was her mumbling, “Please no...this can’t be.” Bobby wrapped his arms around his little girl and guided her back to the lot, where everyone had gathered and heard everything David had said. Jax was first to speak up, “What the fuck is everyone looking at? Go back to whatever you were doing!” Jax and Opie stood on either side of Angel and took her from Bobby before ushering her inside to have her privacy. Angel walked by the dorms and stood, staring into the room she and David had just shared the night before. Jax rushed over and pulled her away and Opie slammed the door closed. “Use my room Sis, take a nap. No one will bother you in here.”

Angel collapsed on Jax’s bed and curled up; she grabbed at his blanket and pulled it over her. She refused to cry until she knew they were out of the room. Jax clenched his jaw as he watched Angel curl up. He had no clue what had went on or what got to David. Shit, they seemed just fine a couple hours ago. Making his way over to the bed, Jax tucked Angel in more, just like he did when they were younger. “Don’t worry sis. We’ll be here for you. Sleep for now.” With that he walked out the room. Once Angel heared the door click, she let herself cry. She had just lost her love, her partner, her best friend and she was still so confused as to why.

That night, Jax felt it best that they had a night just for the “Samcro Siblings” at the clubhouse. Jax and Opie took the time and cleared one of the dorms. They gathered every blanket and pillow they could, even getting Gemma to bring them more from home. They recruited Bambi to help set up the pillow fort they were making and then to go with Donna to pick out all the snacks and food. Although she wouldn’t be joining them that night, Donna was happy that the four of them would be spending time together. Donna also loved the chance to take Bambi out with her, even if it was just a grocery run.

Once Donna and Bambi were back, with bags full of snacks and drinks, they made their way to the designated dorm room and Donna put all the bags on the ground. “Alright you guys, have fun tonight!” Opie pressed a quick kiss to Donna’s lips and wished her a good night. Now that the room was complete, the next part of the plan needed to be put into place. The trio walked out to toward the garage, where they knew Angel was talking to Clay. Opie grabbed Angel and threw her over his shoulder after bidding Clay a thank you for distracting her. Bambi had jumped on Jax’s back and the four made their way back inside. Angel laughed and playfully smacked at Opie’s back. When they finally got to the room, he tossed her on the ground, “GAh, damnit Angel you’ve gotten heavy!”

Angel threw a pillow at him and laughed. Bambi jumped off Jax’s back and flew into Angel’s arm, knocking her all the way over before tickling her. Angel screeched and tried to fight off her little sister but was soon completely overpowered as Opie and Jax joined in. A few times, their laughter and screeching was so loud that one of the Sons would run in with their gun drawn and find the four of them either biting, punching, or slapping the others. Bobby and Tig had finally threw the door open at one point and stared at the four of them tangled up. Bambi had Jax in a headlock as he held onto Angel, who was trying her best to knock Opie over. Bobby and Tig stared at them and slowly backed out of the room. Yea their kids were fucked up, but at least they were having fun and smiling once more.

By the next morning, it was Gemma who went to check on her babies. Clay had told her what happened the evening before and as much as she wanted to rush over to Angel, Clay told her what the other three had planned. Gemma paced for most of the night and that morning. When she opened the door, she stopped in her tracks and held her hand up to her mouth. It had been so long since she had all her babies in one place and looking so peaceful. Jax and Angel had the worst time lately and to see them curled up and looking so peaceful, as if without a care in the world, hit Gemma in the heart. Bambi and Angel were tangled up as they always were when having a sleepover, their arms clinging to one another as if their lives depended on it, and some days Gemma really believed it did. Jax was on his stomach, his hair over his face, but his arm thrown over the girls. Opie was sprawled out on his back, half of Bambi’s body draped across him and the girls trapping his arm between them.