#i think i just like posing with my woodworking stuff so this is once again an art and face combo

[mag200]

made a hammer. its chiseling time.

[lumelii]

BREAKING IN ~|~ FUSHIGURO TOJI X FEM!READER

Summary: Your business partner and you are celebrating the end of a difficult project. Lucky you. 

Content Warning: nsfw, smut, fwb situation, FEM!READER established "relationship", dilf!Toji, face fucking, slight degradation, face slapping (just once) (if I forgot any let me know)

Note: Big thank you to Moni and @shokami for being my guinea pigs on this one. 

Word Count: 5.1k

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There were few things Toji liked about traveling for work. He liked seeing new places. He hated long plane rides. Hotels were nice, but sleeping on the mattresses for too long wreaked havoc on his back. He enjoyed making new business connections. Most importantly, however, he hated leaving his kids for long periods.

They were on his mind now, as he checked his phone periodically through the business party he was attending, celebrating the completion of another building Fushiguro Design Group had planned and engineered, this time in New York City. It was almost time for them to go to school in Tokyo, usually one of them called before they left so he knew they were up. His finger paused over the home phone contact for a moment before he put it away with a sigh. Megumi and Tsumiki were both teenagers now, almost in high school. They didn’t need him hovering all the time.

“Congratulations on another success, Mr. Fushiguro.” One of the executives of the company who contracted the firm came up to shake his hand. “You really outdid yourself this time.”

“It was a group effort.” His eyes searched the room, hoping to find a distraction to get him out of this conversation before he put his foot in his mouth. He didn’t deal with clients, he had employees who did that. He wasn’t great at curtailing his frustrations when in conversation. Especially with this client, who changed their design at least four times, which meant he had to redo all the math. Four times.

Luckily, his distraction came just a few seconds later as his phone began to ring. Looking at the caller ID, he felt a wave of relief seeing his home phone number. At least that meant one of the kids was up. He wasn’t counting on Gojou.

“Please excuse me.” Toji stepped away and walked out onto the balcony just off the ballroom, closing the door securely behind him before answering.

“DAD!” He held the phone away from his ear just slightly when Tsumiki yelled even before he said hello. He brought it back to his ear once he was sure his eardrum wouldn’t be ruptured.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” He answered sarcastically. “How are you? Getting ready for school?”

“Megumi stole my notebook again!”

“I did NOT!” Toji heard Megumi yell in the background.

“It had my homework in it! If I don’t get it back, the teacher is going to dock points!”

“Did you already look in your backpack? Everywhere in your room?”

“No, because Megumi took it!”

“Princess, look in your backpack and your room first. If you can’t find it, have Gojou help you. Now give the phone to Megumi.”

He heard her huff and set the receiver down, yelling for Megumi to get on the phone. A few moments later, the receiver was picked up again. This time, Megumi’s voice. “Hi Dad.”

“I swear to god, Megumi, if you have her notebook and you’re lying about it just to bother her—” Toji warned.

“I’m NOT!” He yelled again. “I was over at Yuuji’s house last night anyway, why would I need her homework when we did ours together?”

“Why weren’t you home last night?” Toji’s eyes narrowed even though his son couldn’t see him. “It’s a school night.”

“Yuuji and I were working on homework. Plus his neighbor made sweets. She sent some home with me. I’ll save you some. Are you coming home soon?” His tone was hopeful. It made Toji’s chest hurt. He missed his family.

“I’m going to be on the first flight back tomorrow morning, I promise.” Toji told him. “Are you ready for school?”

“Not yet. I can’t find my slacks.”

“Look on the right side of your closet, they’re probably in there. Where’s Gojou? Can you put him on the phone?”

“I think he’s still sleeping.” The phone was set down again, and Toji had to wait what felt like forever until he finally heard Gojou grumbling on the other end of the line.

“G’morning sunshine.” He yawned. “What’s up?”

“Are you aware the kids are ready to tear each other’s throats out?” Toji frowned. “And why are you still sleeping? They’re almost ready to leave for school.”

“Kento was on the phone late last night freaking out, I had to calm him down.” Gojou stifled a yawn again. “I made sure they have their breakfast and their school stuff is ready.”

“Tsumiki’s missing her notebook.”

“It was in the living room last I saw, I’ll make sure one of the dogs didn’t take it.”

“I KNEW IT!” Tsumiki screeched in the background.

“Shit, I have to go, Toji. Call later.”

The line went dead before Toji could ask any questions. He looked down at his lock screen with a frown, debating on calling back but ultimately deciding against it while he put his phone away. He would call later once both kids were at school, and keep an eye out for breaking news of fratricide in Tokyo.

He looked to the balcony doors when they opened, relaxing slightly when he saw his preferred distraction walking out with two drinks in hand. 

You closed the door behind you before walking up to him, holding out his favorite, an Old Fashioned. “I thought I’d find you out here.”

He took the proffered drink and downed it in one gulp while you sipped your Gibson carefully. “Am I that predictable?”

“When it comes to these kinds of parties, yes. Either you were about to lose your temper and needed a breather, or you had to take a call.” You answered. “Problems at home?”

Toji shook his head. “Just wish we were back.”

“It’s been a month. I can’t wait to get back to Tokyo. No matter what anyone says, no one can beat Tokyo ramen.” You leaned your elbows on the balcony railing. He leaned next to you, copying your pose while you both looked over the glittering New York skyline in silence.

“Why don’t we focus on projects at home for a while?” You offered. “Or in Japan, at least. That way we wouldn’t have to be gone for too long, you’d still be able to go home at night.”

“We have some pretty big clients lined up in Dubai and Europe. I don’t think they’d want to wait until we felt like traveling again.”

“You’re the boss. If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.” You reminded him with a smile. “I can take someone else with me, then send the specs once we’re done. I’ll even let you pick your stand-in.”

“I’ll pick my stand-in whether you like them or not.” He smirked before continuing. “I’m the boss.”

You rolled your eyes and took another drink. “Just don’t make it fucking Ren. I can’t stand that asswipe.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He promised.

The conversation wasn’t typical between a boss and employee, but you were more than that. You were partners at the firm, Toji was just the one in charge. You’d built the firm together from the ground up, making it the success it was today.

He had come to you, needing an architect for his own firm back when it was only an idea, offering two-hundred million yen out of his personal coffers as an incentive. But it wasn’t the money that had made you say yes. It was the almost maniacal determination in his eyes. He had something to prove, and he would burn the world to the ground to do it.

You learned later his wife had just died a few weeks prior, and it was part of his promise to her on her deathbed that he follow through with his plan of opening his firm. You’d been with him since the beginning, in the early days where you both spent countless sleepless nights completing projects other firms only dared to take on, through the intervention staged by his two closest friends Nanami Kento and Gojou Satoru, as Toji became consumed by his work as a way to suppress his grief, to the point where his son almost didn’t recognize him when he came home. You’d been by his side through the boom of success that befell the firm just a few short years after its founding, along with the money that soon flooded both your pockets, and his second “marriage” to a model he met at a film festival, who promptly disappeared after moving her daughter into his home. He had been surprisingly calm through the whole ordeal, submitting the paperwork to make Tsumiki his own once they were completely certain her mother was never coming back, with a hefty cash incentive and NDA to tie it with a nice bow.

He’d been through a fair amount with you as well, dealing with toxic family that had come out of the woodwork as the company started to increase your wealth, demanding money for so-called “investments” they had made into you by providing basic care until you finally left at fifteen. Through the sudden death of your fiancé, where Toji was the only one who could understand and help you navigate through the unending darkness that consumed your life for almost a year afterwards. He’d ignored some of your questionable choices as you tried to adjust to your new normal, but also was not afraid to step in when necessary if the choices turned destructive. You had thought it was just to protect the interest of the firm, but when he had come to your apartment after a sobbing phone call on the anniversary of your fiancé’s death and held you so you wouldn’t feel so alone, you knew it was because he cared about you.

“Are you ready to go back inside?” You asked after watching the sunset sink below the horizon, breaking you both out of your reflection.

“I’d rather drive an ice pick through my skull.” He admitted. 

You laughed, the sound echoing off the glass windows and empty air around you. “We could always dip.”

“Wouldn’t they be offended, us leaving early?” He turned to face you with one hand on the railing. You ignored the way his suit jacket strained against the hard planes of his chest.

“Mari’s in there, it’ll be fine.” You said, referring to your project manager. “She loves people. She’ll have them eating out of the palm of her hand.”

“If you say so.” He took the empty glass from you, setting it on the railing before taking your hand to thread it through his arm. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”

You made a hasty exit from the party, repeating your excuse of an early flight at least a dozen times so no one would hinder your escape. No one bothered to ask follow-up questions. If they had, they might have found out you were flying private back to Tokyo, and the plane could leave whenever you goddamn pleased, obliterating your excuse.

Luckily, the lie held until you were safely in the cab of an elevator, heading up to the floor that held your two hotel rooms. The company had offered the two massive adjacent suites to you both, taking up an entire floor of the newly constructed hotel. Toji probably could have brought his kids if he had wanted, but he didn’t want to pull them out of school for that long. You were happy to have the entire suite to yourself. It meant you didn’t have to listen to neighbors through all hours of the night, and you didn’t have to worry about keeping anyone up when working late at night. 

“The flight leaves at six tomorrow morning.” Toji told you as you stepped off onto your floor. “There’s going to be a car to pick us up an hour before.”

“Did you already send your bags with the service?” You stopped just outside your door, directly across the hall from Toji’s. 

He nodded. “I saw yours were ready, I had them sent as well.”

“Thank you.” You looked behind your shoulder to your door then back at him, his hands in his pockets, watching you like he was expecting you to say something else. He looked downright sinful in his all-black designer suit, his normally straight hair styled back with hair gel but still looking soft to the touch. The watch that cost more than most people’s houses glinted in the warm light of the hallway as he played with his cufflinks, also worth a small fortune. You would know. You bought them. 

He quirked his eyebrow at your examination, almost like a challenge. Damn him. 

“Do you want to come in for a nightcap?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I thought you would never ask.” 

You smiled back and turned to the door, inserting your keycard to hear the small click of the lock disengaging, slipping inside with him closely following. “We haven’t broken in this one, yet.”

He was on you before you had the chance to slip out of your shoes. Maybe it was the alcohol that gave him a sense of urgency, the sweet bourbon still on his lips as they slid over yours with a practiced ease, or that you had an early flight in the morning and needed as much sleep as possible to prevent jet lag. If it were the latter, this was definitely not the activity to be participating in.

These liaisons only happened on trips, or late nights at the office or your apartment, where there would be no prying eyes. You both didn’t need questions. It was fulfilling a primal desire, one that burned within you even as both your hearts were locked by grief. There was an understanding. You cared for him, and he for you, but not in a romantic way. You were making sure the needs of a friend were met.

The “breaking in” was also a tradition as well, ever since your first major deal had been completed. When the building was finally complete for a major project, you and Toji would sneak off somewhere to do the deed, christening the building like a bottle of champagne before a ship’s maiden voyage. It had started as a joke, a way to release the pent-up stress that resulted from design and construction but eventually became a tradition. As the business grew over the years, you and Toji had christened well over a hundred completed projects with none the wiser. 

You pushed his suit jacket off his shoulders before moving your hands between your fused bodies to start undoing the buttons of his shirt, working quickly in the tight space as Toji didn’t allow you any room to pull away. You struggled to focus while his kisses moved down to your chin and then your neck, licking and sucking the skin with reckless abandon. You let out a breathy moan as he bit your pulse point with a low growl feeling your heartbeat thrum beneath his teeth. Toji pushed your hands away when his shirt was finally on the floor behind him. He grabbed your face between his hands bringing your attention back to him to kiss you. Ever the multitasker, his tongue explored your mouth while he began his task of getting you naked. 

“Don’t rip the dress.” You warned under his kiss while his large hands grappled for the zipper. “I borrowed it, it has to be in perfect condition.”

“I’ll buy Mei Mei a new one.” Gripping the top of the dress with a hand on each size of the zipper, he yanked hard, the fabric splitting like he had just ripped a sheet of paper as it fell off your body. His eyes went wide as the dress pooled at your feet, revealing the matching black lace set you had underneath. The cups barely contained your breasts and did little to cover your most delicate areas, nipples peeking through the sheer fabric.

“Fucking hell.” He breathed.

You grinned and kneeled in front of him, starting to undo the buckle of his pants. “Paris paid off, then?” 

A sigh fell past his lips as you finally pulled his pants and boxers down, wasting no time to wrap your hand around his thick cock, pumping languidly. His breath hitched as you licked his angry red tip slowly, pulling back to prevent him from pushing past your lips when his hips moved forward. His hand went to the crown of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. “Shit. You’ve been saving that since Paris?”

“I’ve worn this plenty before. You’ve just never seen it.” Your smirk was devilish. His grip on your hair tightened as you took him to the base, neatly trimmed hair tickling your nose while you forced your throat to relax. You tried to gather as much spit as you could to make the glide easier as you bobbed your head. Toji was a large man with an equally large and impressive dick, almost too much for you to take in. Through years of practice, both on him and several inferior specimens, you had learned just how to hollow your cheeks, how to move, and how to swallow to have a man cumming in minutes flat. 

“Fuck, you okay?” He panted when he thrust involuntarily, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag slightly. Once you composed yourself, you hummed around his cock and nodded. Grabbing his other free hand, you placed it on the back of your head with his other one before taking him back down your throat. A silent invitation. 

He wasted no time responding, beginning to thrust into your mouth with no reserve. You grabbed his hips to steady yourself as you relaxed and remembered to breathe through your nose. Tears ran down your cheeks while he choked you with his massive cock, mixing with your mascara and staining your skin black. The salty tang of precum hit your tongue, mixing with the saliva that fell from your lips the faster he moved. You smiled around his cock when you cupped his balls, squeezing just enough for him to let out a loud groan. 

“Stop.” He growled, pulling you off him and tilting your chin up. He took in your tear-streaked face, your chin and neck covered with a mix of saliva and pre-cum. When he dragged his thumb over your bottom lip, you caught it between your teeth, sucking him in and lavving the digit with your tongue. He chuckled darkly, hooking his thumb in your mouth and using it as a guide for you to stand up in front of him. 

“Messy doll.” He crooned. You had to admit, you were shocked as he leaned forward and licked up your neck, tasting both of you on your skin. While you were distracted with his sinful lips, you heard another distinct ripping sound before you felt the cool air of the room against your bare ass. You broke away and looked down to see your panties in tatters on the ground. 

“Can you at least leave one piece of my clothing intact tonight?” You frowned at him, your voice slightly hoarse from his antics. “Those were expensive. I know we’re made of money now, but I’d prefer not to spend it all.”

He ignored you and reached around to plant a firm smack on your cheeks. “In the bedroom. On the bed.”

You knew exactly what he meant, but you decided to have a bit of fun as you walked through the massive suite. You could feel his eyes on you, almost predatory when you entered the bedroom and caught sight of the king-sized bed, made with fresh linens and piled high with pillows, accented in the light greys and blacks that matched the rest of the suite. You flopped down on the bed with a giggle, back down, and propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. 

He frowned at your position as he walked forward. “I said on the bed.” He rumbled. 

“I am on the bed.” You played dumb and cocked your head to the side. “What did you mean?”

He shook his head and stopped at the edge, towering over you. “You’re such a brat sometimes, you know that?” 

“It’s a nice break from those girls that call you daddy, isn’t it?” You purred. 

The growl that ripped through his chest made your heart jump and another wave of arousal coat your lips as he surged forward, gripping your hips to flip you onto your stomach and pull them up so you were on your knees, your throbbing center level with his cock. He ground against you, slipping his length along your drenched labia to coat it, the glide easy as your spit mixed with your slick. He was more than ready to pound into you. 

When you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, he put a hand on your neck and pushed you down so your face was pressed into the mattress. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hot breath on your back and trailing up as he bent over you to whisper in your ear. 

“You know, I was going to be nice, maybe take it slow at first so you wouldn’t be absolutely wrecked sitting for fourteen hours on our flight tomorrow.” He hummed. “But now, I think I’m going to like seeing you squirm.”

It wasn’t even a second later before he slammed into your pussy, the stretch almost painful as you wailed at the intrusion and he began a brutal pace that rivaled his speed while he was fucking your face just moments before. You were already sopping wet from sucking his dick earlier, turned on beyond belief as you thought about what lay in store for you after he was done with your mouth being his personal fleshlight. 

“Shit, you’re so tight.” He hissed, spanking your ass to feel you clench around his dick. “No one can stretch this cunt as good as I can, can they? You need a fat cock to satisfy you, those skinny dicks can’t even get you wet.” 

You moaned an affirmative, playing along with his narrative as he pistoned his hips into you. You could feel every vein on him as they dragged along your walls, his tip hitting that soft spot inside you with every thrust. There were plenty of other dicks that had gotten you wet, but it was true his was the most impressive, and the one that had more knowledge of just how to make you scream, monster dick or not. He had that advantage over every other man you slept with. 

The slap of his hips against yours echoed through the cavernous room as Toji grabbed your upper arms, pulling them behind your back and forcing your back in arch, his thrust becoming more shallow but no less punishing. You bit your lip to control the noises you were making, but whines still escaped. 

When the new position didn’t produce his desired response from you, he released your arms without any ceremony causing your upper body to fall limp back to the bed. You gasped as Toji pressed his hips flush to yours, curling his body on top of yours with one powerful arm wrapped around your waist to keep you from pulling away while his tip continually massaged your g-spot with every roll of his hips into you. 

“Tell me how it feels.” He murmured in your ear, his voice steady without any sign of effort. His stamina was something to marvel. 

“You know how it feels.” You moaned back, unable to control yourself. You were so close, just ready to reach that peak if he would only speed up. You reached back with one hand and gripped his hip hoping that would encourage him to resume his previous pace. 

He took your hand from his hip and put it back near your head, delivering a harsh smack to your ass. The sharp sting of pleasure was what you needed for your back to arch, squeezing around him while you fucked yourself back onto his cock to prolong your climax as much as you could. 

Toji pulled out as you finally slowed down, his heavy cock bouncing against his leg as he sat up against the headboard and patted his thigh, signaling for you to climb on. You wasted no time in doing so, raising yourself on shaky legs to straddle his lap. His hands moved to cup your ass as you settled over him, taking his length in hand and sinking down onto it with a sharp exhale through your nose. You could almost feel him in your throat in this position, the stretch still borderline uncomfortable even after he had already stretched you out, coupled with the sensitivity of just having orgasmed. 

His gentle grip turned hard just as you were about to start bouncing to stop your movements. You gave him a confused look but understood when his hands started to guide you in grinding on his lap. The added friction on your clit against his pelvis made you sigh in pleasure, just a tinge of overstimulation creeping through the tightness already building in your stomach again. In this position with the lack of harsh movements he was able to play with your breasts, which he always gave proper worship. 

His large hands made your breasts look small as he covered the left, slipping your nipple between his fingers and rolling it while he cupped the other, pushing it up and licking at the flesh. You sighed at the rough texture of the scar marring his lips against your sensitive skin and wrapped your arms around his head, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him close. He loved to tease, licking and sucking all around your breasts until you were about to beg, arching your back further into his touch. You hated begging him, hated admitting how well he could affect you. But you had known each other for so long, you knew each other better than anyone else. 

You whined as his lips finally closed around the pert bud, laying the flat of his tongue over the sensitive skin. You felt his lips stretch into a smile against your skin at your vocalizations before he moved to your other breast, immediately latching onto the nipple to produce a breathy moan. You knew he was enjoying himself from the way his hips matched each roll of your own, driving deeper as he got lost in the feeling. 

“I got your milkies.” You whispered, part of your sinister trick to bring him back to earth. You were starved for actual friction, grinding not providing the drag on your insides you craved. 

He pulled back with a soft pop and frowned, though his pupils were still blown out. “You did not just say that.”

You shrugged. “I thought it was funny.”

“Way to kill the mood.” He mumbled, pushing your breasts together to bury his face between them, licking through your cleavage and up your chest.

“Then why are you still hard?” You squeezed down on him deliberately. His eyes grew dark as he looked up at you through thick lashes and you knew you were in for it. 

With one quick movement you were under him, back pressed into the pillows while he kneeled between your legs still holding your waist so he could stay buried inside you, your hips tilted so you were at an angle. You struggled to sit up trying to resume your previous position, but his strong hold on you didn’t allow you any room before he continued burying himself in your velvet walls. You could barely breathe from the force of his thrusts, twice as hard as before but just as fast. 

You could have killed him from how composed he looked as he watched you slowly lose control. He watched you with an almost curious expression, studying how your brow drew together and short gasps fell past your lips while he was barely breaking a sweat. You refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing your moans. If he wanted them, he’d have to earn them. 

“I know you like taking it from the back, but I think I like this better.” He mused, voice even like he wasn’t balls deep in your cunt. “I can see the look on your face when you lose control.”

“Fuck you, Toji.” You gasped, your words stuttering with each of his thrusts. 

“No, that’s your job.” He grinned devilishly and bent down over you, resting on his elbows. “Scream for me, little slut. Let the floors around us know how good I fuck.” 

You opened your mouth to retort but a loud scream came out instead as Toji sneaked his hand between you to roll your clit between two fingers. You barely felt his breath on your skin as you shattered beneath him, screaming just like he wanted as your orgasm crashed over you, ten times as intense as the one he had just given you. You gripped the pillow under your head and turned your face into it so he couldn’t see just how much you were enjoying this. 

In an instant, you felt the pillow ripped from beneath your head and his hand come into contact with your cheek. The sting of his slap was dulled by the pleasure still running over your body as he gripped your chin tightly in one of his large hands, forcing you to look in his eyes, your noses almost touching. Your eyebrows knit together and mouth open on a silent moan made him finally push as far in as he could on a final thrust, painting your inner walls white with his cum as he groaned loudly. The roll of his hips didn’t stop until he deposited every last drop within you, until you could feel his cum leaking out the sides of his dick. How could he cum so fucking much?

His hands turned gentle as he pulled out, smoothing your hair off your sweaty forehead and tracing his fingers over the hickeys he’d left on your neck. He bent down to ghost his lips on your hairline before hauling himself off the bed and walking toward the bathroom. You could faintly hear him rummaging around through your post-coital fog, coming back with a warm damp towel and starting the task of cleaning you up. 

While he did, he grabbed the phone from the room and dialed room service, ordering two meals, along with ice cream at your insistence, billing it to his room. Not that it mattered, you were staying here on your host’s dime. When he was done cleaning you, he laid on his side next to you, smiling down fondly as you still tried to catch your breath. 

“You did good.” He whispered, caressing your face. You managed a weak smile and laughed. 

“Don’t get soft on me now, Fushiguro.” You sighed. “I might just lose respect for you.”

He smiled down at you, basking in the afterglow of your liaison. “Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

Tags: @oikawaandkuroostan, @gummy-dummy

[skylights2000]

Switch! (Gundham x Fem! Reader) Part 3

~

All of you unanimously agreed that you shouldn’t tell anyone about what happened unless you absolutely had to.

You owned a small workshop that specialized in woodworking. The place, though fairly popular, didn’t need too many people to run it. You had two employees working with you that you would have to explain the situation to.

Gundham ran the famous Tanaka Breedery with occasional help from his mother who had retired last year. Obviously, he would have to tell her. They may have to tell a few of their close friends if need be, but they would cross that bridge when they came to it.

You and Gundham also agreed that you wanted to stay at your own apartments. It would take some arranging, but you were both more comfortable with that.

~

Normally, when you packed a bag, it was for yourself. You’d never packed a bag filled with your stuff for someone else. Sure, you’d donated stuff before, but you’d packed up half your room. It may be a bit excessive, but you wanted Gundham to have everything he needed to take care of your body.

Thinking about it still felt strange and brought back that spark of anxiety, so you busied yourself with packing instead.

You also knew he preferred darker clothing, so you tried to keep that in mind. Your closet was split down the middle with colored clothes on the left and darker clothes on the right. You put as much of it as you could into the suitcase and zipped it up.

~

When Gundham got to your apartment, you exchanged bags, and you wished him luck, to which he responded with, “Make no mistake, mortal! I am still the great Gundham Tanaka! This is but a small setback in my mission to rule this world!”

The eccentricity of it made a genuine laugh spill past your lips. “Yeah, okay. Go get some sleep.” You smiled, nudging him towards the door. “It’s getting late, and you still need to get up early tomorrow if you’re gonna go to work in my place.”

Gundham waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, I remember. This ‘woodworking’ that you speak of. How difficult can it be?”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly offended by the disregard for what you did, but in the end, you just shrugged. “Eh, no need in arguing. You’ll see tomorrow anyway.”

With that, you stepped back into your apartment and closed the door.

Now it was time to face the next challenge.

Showering.

That was where things got a bit tricky, but you had a plan. You threw the suitcase Gundham had given you onto your bed and started to sift through it.

Gundham didn’t own many colorful things. What was there, you assumed had been gifts from Sonia. You snickered when you came across a pair of joggers with little images of Totoro with various expressions and poses. It was adorable, but definitely not something you would’ve expected from Gundham.

He actually seemed to have put a fair amount of thought into what he packed. Just as you’d done for him, he tried to leave clothing that suited both his taste and yours.

There was a LOT of black, but there were also some whites, reds, different shades of purple. You noticed a bag filled with various accessories, and when you picked it up, a note fluttered onto your bed. You picked it up, squinting slightly before remembering that your horrible eyesight didn’t transfer with your soul. It was strange to be able to see so well without glasses or contacts.

Mortal,

I have left these pentacles and charms to sheild your soul from the darkness that lurks within my body. Affix them to your bodily form each day, and they shall offer you protection from the Other Realm.

You reread the words several times, but each time, they were the same. You emptied the bag onto your bed and gaped at all of it. He expected you to wear ALL of this?

You put everything on your dresser, deciding to deal with them later. You found a pair of pajamas and headed into the bathroom.

You had some semblance of a plan as you turned on the faucet in the shower to let it get warm.

Taking off your clothes was one thing. Doing it with your eyes closed was difficult, but that still wasn’t as hard as blindly navigating your bathroom.

Your bathroom was a good size, not too big and not too small, but the counters were cluttered and you knocked over several things in the process.

Once you finally reached the shower, everything else went fairly smooth. You even managed to dry off without slipping and cracking your skull open, so that was a win in your book.

Getting dressed again was a bit of a challenge with no sight, but once you were done, you opened your eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the burst of light.

Gundham’s hair actually looked fairly normal when it wasn’t defying gravity with all the hair gel. You brushed it out and combed your fingers through it to get it to lay flat. You couldn’t help but notice how soft his hair actually was. It was nice.

You finished up, brushed your teeth, and headed back to your room. It had been a long day, and you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

~

Another obstacle faced you when you woke up.

Gundham’s hair.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get it to look the way it normally did. You sighed loudly and pulled out your phone.

“Hello.”

“How the fuck do I handle your hair?”

You heard an equally loud sigh from the other end of the line before he answered you. “I will transport myself to your abode. I require assistance with your tresses as well.”

“Alright, see ya then.”

“Indeed.”

~

When Gundham got to your apartment, you were almost surprised by how normal he looked. He was still sporting several long necklaces, each one with a different rune or symbol, but considering how he usually dressed, this was as normal as it would get.

What surprised you the most was what he had done to your hair. This time, it wasn’t a good kind of surprise.

“What have you done, mortal?!”

“Me? What the hell did you do to my hair?!”

Your hair was in complete disarray. It was tangled to hell and puffed out like a cat’s tail when it got scared.

“You know what, I don’t wanna know. Just come with me.”

It took you almost ten minutes and a lot of complaints from both of you to get your hair untangled. Once that was done though, you dragged out the straightener you had.

“What is this contraption?”

“A hair straightener? I’m surprised you haven’t used one.” You held it out for him to inspect. “As the name implies, you use it to straighten your hair.”

“How does it work?” He asked curiously.

“Here, I’ll show you.” When he turned his head to watch you, you nudged him to face forward. “You can watch in the mirror, but you have to hold still, okay? I don’t wanna burn you.”

You gathered a section of hair and slipped it into the straightener. “These two metal plates produce heat, and when you close the hair in them, it heats it up and helps flatten it.” You explained as you worked, and once you were done, you let it drop into place. “See?”

He ran his fingers through the section of hair. “Fascinating.” He murmured, and you cracked a smile. You’d never see someone so mystified by a hair straightener. It was cute.

You straightened the rest of your hair and pulled it up into a high ponytail. If he was going to work in your place, he didn’t need any hair getting in his eyes.

You were still a bit nervous about him taking your place, but if people suddenly saw you two switch jobs, they’d ask too many questions. It was already strange enough that you’d swapped personalities. If anyone found out you’d swapped bodies too, it could turn into a serious disaster.

You didn’t have time to worry about it before Gundham turned to you with a frown. He dragged you over to the stool beside your vanity. “Sit.”

He fixed his hair in a surprisingly timely manner. It was quite clear that he’d done this many times, and you briefly wondered how long he’d had this hairstyle.

Once he was done, you looked in the mirror and nodded approvingly. “Thanks, Gundham.”

“There is no need for gratitude. I simply did not want you to leave here looking so atrocious.”

You lips twitched, and you clenched your jaw to keep back a scowl. “If you want a challenge, I could do a lot worse.” The fact that you said it with a smile made it all the more unnerving.

He glared at you. “Fool! What nonsense do you speak to threaten I, the great Gundham Tanaka?”

This was gonna be a long day.

[mysticdragon3md3]

Reacting to last few episodes of Nippu Sentai Hurricanger.

4:07 PM 8/1/2020 Nippu Sentai Hurricanger ep49; last scenes.

Why is this tragic music playing during Shurikenger's battle scene?  

Oh no...I just remembered that Super Sentai Hurricanger is a "ninja story".  We know what's the most common trope in a story about ninja...  Ninja sacrificing themselves.  ;~~;   . . . 4:13 PM 8/1/2020 ep50

Wait.  Is Gozen dead too?  Why did she appear in that flash of remembering Shurikenger being dead?  Is that why Shurikenger sacrificed himself?  Gozen was already dead?  

I think I remember these antagonist ninja girls from Gokaiger.  Ever since I started catching Hurricanger on Tokushoutsu, I've been wondering how these 2 kunoichi end up either surviving or defecting away from the villains' side.  

And of course the villain in a ninja story is the one who betrays their master.  Sandaaru.

Wait.  Why did Ikkou and Isshu's mecha blow up?  Did they do that cliche where you stab through yourself to get the enemy?  Haven't seen that since Jin.  I guess we gotta have more ninja sacrificing themselves before the series ends.  ~.~;  I want to go on about how "cliche" it is, but only to blunt the blow of the tragedy.  Because honestly, these tropes really do hit me in the feels!  ;o;!!!  

Oboro and the Headmaster god killed to?!????  Jeeze, how much tragedy does this story need?!?  ;O;!!!  ...Oh, yeah, I forgot:  This is a "ninja story".  Tragedy and everyone dying is kind of the prerogative.  

Wait.  Why aren't they getting into their mecha to fight?  Oh yeah.  First gotta have the unmasked character introduction kata/mie pose sequence at the start of the series' last battle.  I loved that in Gokaiger!  (I'm going to refer to Gokaiger a lot.  It's the only Super Sentai series I've finished.  I barely started with Shinkenger before my source for episodes dried up.)   . . . 4:30 PM 8/1/2020 ep51 "Final Scroll: Wind, Water, Earth".  

Oh, yeah.  Even though the lead Sentai is red like fire, there is no Fire in the Asian fundamental elements set---noWaitaminute!  Yes thre is!  Wind is the one that's missing!  If anything, Wind is considered Ki.  If Fire is there then why isn't the red Sentai representative of Fire?  Is this a ninja thing?  Ninja and the wind?  Probably.  lol  

Tau Zant is back?!  O.o?!  Well, I guess building him up as the final boss, all season, and not giving him the final battle would've been disappointing.

Oh, wait.  He's a conglomeration of all the villain's evil wills?  I thought that trope was only for yokai stories...  But I guess ninja stories do use a lot of magic and blur the line with the yokai genre.  

I like that they won the mecha battle by pretending to be beaten.  They used both the tropes of "an enemy is the most dangerous when about to be killed with a final blow" and "a ninja's primary weapon is deception", to get to Tau Zant's forehead weak spot.  And I also like the trope of "the villain makes an obvious fatal flaw" during battle tactics, rather than just the plot.  I know all these tropes are cliche in Japan, but I re~ally like them~!  ;u;!  It's so weird that at the hint of a cliche trope from American/Hollywood media, I get kind of bored, but I love all these Japanese pop culture tropes from anime, manga, and tokusatsu.  ^.^;  But I guess some things just speak to you, and some things don't.  lol  

The villains have a combined attack "canon" now?  lol  "Falling back from the exploooooooooooooosions!"  LOL    

WAit.  Ikkou and Isshu are still alive?  Well, it is nice to soften the blow of death for a kid's show.  ^.^  And more importantly, they get to fight in the final final battle.  If a series finale battle lacked in fanservice, like the fanserive of seeing all the main characters fighting together, then I'd be disappointed.  

Now that they're doing their poses with minimal costuming, I can see more clearing that they're doing actual kabuki mie poses.  ^o^  I love it!  ^o^  

Of course, Oboro and her dad turn out to still be alive.  LOL  I'm sorry, but I feel RELIEVED!  ;u;!!!!!!  All those tragic deaths, from the previous episodes, all at once, was too much.  ;o;!  I mean, it was really effective for The Feels at the time, but damnit, I watch fun kid shows to get away from my anxiety/depression!  Later, some jerk always comes out of the fandom woodwork to complain about "undoing character deaths is cheap" or "it cheapens the story".  Blahblahblah.  I'm sorry, but if you can't retain the lessons/emotions/revealations you learned when you *thought* tragedy happened, unless the tragedy stays, then I've got to question your ability to learn from events and not take stuff for granted!  All these crybaby fanboys complaining about the effects of a death not staying unless the death stays...I don't think they even got the important effects of a death.  I don't think they really learned what's important.  When a character dies, it's supposed to bring to mind all regrets left unresolved.  And then, more importantly, the surviving character(s) is supposed to resolve to change themselves to not make those same mistakes.  Not the mistake that specifically got the other character killed in their death scene, but the mistakes of all those everyday things that were left unresolved, out of an assumption that there would always be more time with that killed character.  I personally think that striving everyday to guard against making those same mistakes is a whole other, brand new battle, that needs to be taken on everyday.  To me, that's a whole new world of tension and drama that doesn't get erased when the "killed" character returns from the dead.  When the "killed" character gets resurrected, that's the START of a brand new battle, a battle that the surviving character has already proven to have LOST BEFORE.  That's why it became a regret---Though a regret unnoticed until the "killed" character died.  The "killed" character's resurrection inherently has drama because the surviving character might fail again, might prove that they either learned nothing or more tragically, are unable to overcome their everyday flaws, to avoid repeating that same regret.  That's a whole lot more tragic to me than a character staying dead.  (When [spoiler] returned from the dead at the end of Kamen Rider W, I ranted so much against those fanboys complaining that his resurrection "ruined" everything.  Urrrrgh!!!  https://mysticdragon3md3.tumblr.com/post/111356254057/spoilertastic-rant-warning-for-kamen-rider-w)  

But yeah, Gozen and Shurikenger remaining dead works.  I didn't watch many episodes of this season, but there was a lot less connection between the audience and those 2, compared to with the other Hurricanger.  

Is that a persimmon?  He better be eating a persimmon!  ^O^  Can't have a ninja story without eating persimmon!  LOL  

Wait.  Did PlutoTV just cut off the last scene of the last episode?!?!?!  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Oh, good.  Tokushoutsu came back.  I wonder what all that back to back loading was all about?  

I just realized "Ikkou" and "Isshu"...  Doesn't that mean "Let's go together"?  ;U;!  

Aaaaahhhh!  Another trope I love!  Catch something from the master to complete your training!  ^o^  

Are they seriously intercutting between this graduation fight and their future careers?  lol  I guess it makes more sense

Big Shurikenger cameo at the end.  lol  Nice to get all the actors together.  I did like that joke about never really know what Shurikenger's real face was.  

Ah~  I didn't watch the full season, but Super Sentai finale episodes are always satisfying.  ;u;   . . . 5:02 PM 8/1/2020 I guess PlutoTV/Tokushoutsu is starting again with episode 1.  

It was a persimmon in the final episode!  ^o^

Wait.  So the only reason this trio became Hurricanger was because they were the slackers playing hookie while everyone else was attacked?!  LOL  I love that trope.  lol  

But wait...  So did all the other students DIE??????????????  ;O;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!  O~O!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Omg.  They just rushed into battle, all at the same time, with no cover, and all obvious moves...  They really are idiots.  lol  I love them.  ;u;  Well, I love knowing how much they're going to grow from this low level. . . . 5:28 PM 8/1/2020 So I went on YouTube to try to find Power Rangers Ninja Storm episode 1, just to compare how they handled their character introductions.  And OMG.  I'm sorry, I hate them.  ~_____~;;;;;;;;;;;;  Everyone is snarky, disrespectful in ways that imply a lack of common compassion, and they're too much dialogue like "dude, I don't get this because I'm totally stupid".  Uuuuuuuuuggh~  ~o~;;;;;;;;;;;;;;  See, this is what I mean by how astonished I am that get sick of American fiction tropes so easily, but inexplicably just eat up those J-pop culture tropes.  ~_~;   . . . 5:31 PM 8/1/2020 Hurricanger ep2

Oh, these are the jobs that tied into the final episode's montage.  I like the lesson about not forgetting the "important Fight in your heart" even while you're doing everyday mundane life.  

Sorry, I'm not paying attention, but I've got stuff to do.  ^^;  Well, looks like Tokushoutsu is ending their Hurricanger marathon block, so I'm going to switch to some studying concentration ASMR.  

Wait.  Gotta listen to Kamen Rider Ichigo's opening theme!  ^O^!!!  "Rider jump!  Rider kick!  Kamen Rider, Kamen Rider!  Rider!  Rider!"  ^U^!!!  

[distant-rose-archive-blog]

No Leg to Stand On (1/2)

Note: Well, I can’t believe I finish this thing in a day. This writing streak has been absurd. Like I have just felt an intense need to write all week and hopefully I won’t get burned out over the weekend. Anyway, this was...this one was tough. Though Killian and Emma aren’t be factors into this one, they are constantly brought up and discussed because issues. I think I’ve made some of my feelings about the how Neal Cassidy thing known in this own. So, yeah, some anti-Swanfire thoughts here. I’m really curious to see what you all think of the ending of this one. As usual, thank you @welllpthisishappening for reading a shit ton of text from me. I owe you a shit ton. Summary: At sixteen, Beth Jones is Killian’s pride and joy. She’s gorgeous, intelligent, clever, witty and possibly the most talented swordsman of her generation. She might also be pregnant Rating: T Word Count: 6,900+

It started with a phone call from his stepfather.

Henry Mills was sitting a Starbucks on his laptop after a lengthy conversation with his agent about starting a new book series. His latte (not well made and completely overpriced) had long since been finished, but he was looking to have a moment to himself before he went back home and packed up his and his daughter’s things for when their upcoming weekend visit with his parents. His phone lit up as Killian’s name flashed upon the screen. Henry glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer and frowned. It was Friday afternoon in late July and according to the forecast, it was sunny. Typically, Killian took the Jones crew out on the Jolly and wasn’t necessarily reachable by phone.

A hard feeling formed in Henry’s gut. Something was wrong. Where his mother could detect lies, Henry’s superpower was that he could predict trouble and some strange storm was brewing.

Tapping his fingers against the table, Henry picked up the call while ignoring the dirty looks he gets from the patrons around him. If they wanted peace and quiet, they should have gone to a real coffee shop. There were plenty in Portland.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Hello lad. I’m well. Yourself?” Killian greeted. His voice was a bit on the gruff side, but Henry attributed that more to his stepfather’s advancing age than any real stress.

Henry could not help but smile. He hadn’t been a ‘lad’ in years, but then again, at his age, everyone was probably a child to Killian. (Henry tried very hard not to think of the implications of that.)

“Just finished a Saturday meeting with my agent. She wants me to focus on something else aside from my Once series. I’ve been thinking about doing something in the same universe though. Might call this one Ever After, you know, to keep the fairytale theme to it,” Henry replied conversationally, leaning back in his seat.

“Thinking of writing about yourself rather than your mother?” Killian asked. If someone else had posed the question, Henry would have thought they were subtly accusing him of being an egotist, but this was Killian and he knew him better than that.

“No,” Henry said with a chuckled. “I’m rather boring. I think there are far more interesting protagonists in the world than Henry Mills. I’m still working out the kinks though. My material is a bit on the young side.”

“Speaking of the young,” Killian said. And there it was - the real reason Killian was calling him. “Have you spoken to your sister lately?”

“Beth?” Henry asked as if he somehow had another sister in the woodwork. Considering his life, it wouldn’t necessarily surprise him that much. “Over the phone? Not recently. I mean we text. She sent me a list of cat pirate puns yesterday but that’s about it. Why? What’s going on?”

“Well, officially? Nothing, but she’s been acting real strange lately. Very shut in and quiet,” Killian said with a sigh. “Your mother thinks it’s a phase. Teenage hormones and all that, but I know my daughter, lad and so do you. She’s a firecracker. Vibrant and full of fire. Now she’s just muted. Doesn’t talk. Doesn’t eat. That…that isn’t my daughter. It’s like she’s been replaced by some zombie creation.”

Henry frowned, leaning forward and shutting his laptop.

“Is she sick?”

“She insists she isn’t, but I don’t know. She’s sixteen and I’m now persona-non-grata,” Killian sighed. “I figured if anyone knew, it might be you. You’re her brother and she looks up to you. You don’t have parental authority over her so I figured if she was really in trouble, she would turn to you.”

A part of Henry wanted to tell Killian he was barking up the wrong tree out of some strange sense of loyalty to the younger Joneses, but he was absolutely right. Whenever his younger siblings stepped into something bigger than they should have, they had a tendency of calling him before anyone else as if he were some magical “Get Out of Jail Free” card. He had always helped them and had kept their screw ups under wraps from their parents with the strong understanding that they would pick up babysitting hours if Henry needed them. He wasn’t aware that Emma and Killian had an inkling of this.

“I wouldn’t say Beth looks up to me that much, but I can talk to her if you like,” Henry said after a moment.

“That’s all I ask, Henry,” Killian replied gently. His gratitude was evident in voice.

“I’ll let you if anything comes of it,” Henry sighed. “I will see you tomorrow though.”

“You’re coming around noon with the little one, right?” Killian asked. Henry didn’t have to see him to know that his stepfather was rubbing the back of his ear as he spoke. It was already funny how well he could picture him even when he was miles away.

“Aye, Captain.” Henry couldn’t help but grin.

“Smartass,” Killian said affectionately. “I blame you for the constant sass I put up with. They learned it all from you.”

“I think you and Mom gave more than enough examples for them to follow in that department,” Henry laughed. “But if it makes you feel better, sure, blame me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Killian. Have a good one.”

“You as well, lad. I will see you then.”

Upon ending his phone call with Killian, Henry scrolled through his contact list. He frowned as he went through the ‘B’ section without seeing his sister’s name. He definitely had her number. She sent him random texts constantly. He immediately went back to his messages application and nearly smacked himself. He had forgotten that Beth had changed her name in his phone to ‘HRH Queen Beth of the Seven Seas.’ He snorted, thumbing the name and pressing the call button.

The phone rang twice before it went to voicemail.

“Hey it’s Beth! I’m either busy or ignoring you. You can leave a message, but I’m probably not going to listen to it. Just being up front. Bye,” his sister’s mischievous voice rang out.

Henry snorted again. Firecracker was certainly an optimal term for his sister.

“Hey Queenie Bee, it’s your favorite brother,” Henry started. “I cannot wait to see you tomorrow; however, you haven’t messaged me if you wanted me to sneak any contraband into the Swan-Jones Federal Prison. I’m packing tonight and would rather have it folded away nicely so Mom doesn’t see anything. You know how she snoops. Anyway, call me back.”

Not even a few minutes passed before Henry’s phone dinged in rapid session, heralding a series of text messages. Henry wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t. There was something about teenagers that made them prefer text messages to phone calls. He couldn’t necessarily judge. He had been the same at that age. He tapped in his passcode to look at messages.

Beth: Hey. I need a huge favor.

Beth: Major favor.

Beth: And you can’t tell Mom or Dad.

Beth: Bro Code, Henry. I’m invoking the Bro Code.

Henry sighed, debating in his head out he wanted to respond to the messages. He would flat out ask her what was up, play protective older brother and get serious with her or he could play it cool and give her a more humorous response. He bit his lip before typing.

Henry: I’m kinda wounded you think I’m a snitch. Bro Code invocation granted.

Henry: As for the favor, it depends on what you’re asking.

Henry: I’m not buying you beer or shit until you’re 18. That pact is sacred and before your time. Don’t like it? Take it up with the Dread Pirate Roberts

Henry watched as dots appeared on his screen, signaling that his sister was typing back a reply. It took five minutes. The dots disappeared twice before reappearing. He idly wondered if he was going to get a reply with a word count that was worthy of a novel publication. It wouldn’t surprise him. Beth was absurdly fast at typing on her phone. She had the Guinness World Record in the bag if she ever went for it.

However, when Henry finally got her reply, it wasn’t novel length at all. It was only nine words. Nine words that made all the color drain from his face.

Beth: I need you to buy me a pregnancy test

Henry didn’t bother writing back a text. He pounded his thumb down on her name and pressed the call option.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Henry chanted under his breath. His fingers were tapping more violently against the table, loud enough to almost cover the sound of his heartbeat thudding in his ears.

She picked up just before the final ring.

“Hey…” Her voice was above a whisper.

“Please tell me this is an elaborate and very cruel joke,” Henry said. His desperation was clearly evident in his tone.

There was a long unsteady silence that followed his demand. Henry strained his ear to make sure he wasn’t missing a sound, but he wasn’t even sure he could hear her breathing. His fingers stopped tapping and he clenched his hand into a fist as his anxiety took hold.

“It’s not,” she said quietly.

“I’m driving over right now,” he stated firmly and began to back his stuff up.

He cursed as his laptop banged against the side of the table. It was a miracle the thing still worked. It was covered in scratches and dents from all the times he and his siblings had dropped it. He remembered quite vividly a time it fell off his lap while he and his sister had been watching the old Batman cartoons when she was eleven – only five years ago. Christ.

“You are not coming here today,” she hissed. “If you show up here, Mom and Dad are going to think something is wrong.”

“Something is wrong,” he bit back. “And they should know. Goddamn it, Elizabeth, what were you thinking?”

“Look, yell at me tomorrow,” Beth snapped. “This isn’t something that can get better or worse overnight. Either I am or not. But Bro Code has been invoked, Henry. You cannot tell Mom and Dad. Are you going to get me a test or not?”

“I will get you the test,” Henry sighed, rubbing his temple. “But we’re having a long chat tomorrow. A long chat. We are talking some Killian Jones length lectures involved.”

“Thanks, padre número dos.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how Spanish works and I’m sure as hell not your father but we’ll save that for the lecture tomorrow,” Henry said, squeezing his eyes shut. Coffee wouldn’t do. He needed vodka. Some serious vodka. And at least a tank of water because he wasn’t young enough where he could deal with hangovers anymore.

The rest of Henry’s evening went in a daze. He couldn’t focus on anything, even listening to his daughter talk about her day at school. All he could think about was the fact that Beth had asked him to buy her a pregnancy test. His sixteen-year old sister was possibly pregnant. He still remembered when she was born. Hell, he remembered changing her diapers. The concept of that baby potentially having a baby made him nauseous.

Before he went to bed, his phone went off one last time, another text message.

Beth: Mom & Dad are on patrol tomorrow morning since they aren’t expecting you until noon. Drop by the house early? I’ll make Bean a cupcake.

Henry bit his lip before typing his response. His heart seemed to ache more when Beth had invoked her nickname for Lucy. She had given his daughter that name before she was even born. Beth had been six and incredibly excited to be someone’s aunt. When he and Jacinda had shown her their first ultrasound picture, she had called the baby “the Little Bean,” which had slowly evolved into just “Bean.” It was just another reminder that Beth wasn’t that much older than Lucy.

Henry: Sounds like a plan. No cupcakes though. Luce doesn’t need more sugar. She’s sweet enough as it is.

Beth: You’re lame. :P

Henry: And you’re possibly pregnant. Now sleep. Big day tomorrow.

The next morning, Henry nearly had to drag Lucy out of bed to get her in the car. She was only ten, but liked to sleep in like her teenaged aunt and uncles. The only thing that seemed to arouse her from her slumber was the promise of two doughnuts and a strawberry coolatta from Dunkin Donuts. He made a pit stop to at his local CVS to buy a pregnancy test and cranberry juice before heading on his way to Storybrooke, blushing violently when the cashier granted him a cheery “good luck.”

When he arrived at his parents’ house an hour later, he found his younger brother Wes sitting on the couch watching a women’s fitness program in his underwear while eating directly from a box of cheerios. He looked incredibly hungover and stared bleary eyed as Henry walked through the door with Lucy, who was still slurping contently on her coollatta.

“Mom and Dad aren’t here, Hank. I thought you weren’t coming until noon,” Wes said, blinking rapidly.

“Yeah, well, duty called. Where’s Beth?” Henry asked, feeling a little impatient.

“Probably still asleep upstairs. Why? Are you giving her something?” Wes asked, eying the plastic bag in Henry’s hand.

“Nothing you would be interested in,” Henry sighed. “Would you mind putting on some clothes and watching Lucy for me?”

“Depends on what’s in it for me,” Wes replied, drumming his hands against his stomach and giving him a grin that would have looked mischievous if Wes didn’t look half dead. Henry had seen him down an entire bottle of Captain Morgan and look ship shape the next day. He didn’t even want to know how much alcohol he had consumed last night.

He also wasn’t in the mood to play this game this morning.

“How about this? You have my old room. I know there’s a loose floorboard in there that’s perfect for hiding things. You’re clever and I know you found it. You might even have some unsavory stuff in there. How about I don’t tell Mom and Killian about it and you watch Lucy.”

“That’s evil.” Wes was staring at Henry like he had never seen him before.

“Oh, sweet summer child,” Henry smirked. “You don’t even know what evil is.”

Wes opened his mouth to say something but as he was about to, the front door opened and a sweat-drenched Harrison walked through. He had music blasting in his ears so loud that Henry could actually hear the lyrics and promptly identified the current song as something from the Jimi Hendrix collection.

“Uncle Harry!” Lucy smiled, putting her drink down on a side table and opening her arms to give Harrison a hug.

Henry’s other brother gave Lucy a small smile as he took out his earphones. He looked like he was ready to fall on his knees and hug her back but was also becoming aware that he was creating a puddle of sweat around him and smelled like a locker room.

“You don’t want to touch me right now, Bean. Uncle Harry is pretty gross since he just ran seven miles without his running buddy,” Harrison replied gently, giving Wes a mild side eye.

Wes scoffed.

“It’s a weekend. Saturday is a day of rest. I don’t need to run circles around you every day, Har,” Wes replied with a roll of his eyes.

“You know what,” Henry said, coming to a decision. “This is perfect. There’s finally someone responsible here who isn’t at work or asleep. Forget what I said, Wes. Harrison, can you watch Lucy while I go talk to Beth about something personal?”

“Did you just suggest I wasn’t responsible?” Wes asked, offended.

“Yeah,” Henry said casually. “That and I don’t trust you with my kid. Knowing you, you would teach her how to make a bomb or something.”

Harrison snorted in a amusement both at Henry’s comment and Wes’s following look of outrage. He wiped at his brow while working out the kinks in his earphones. Henry made a mental note to get him some Bluetooth headphones for Christmas.

“Sure. I can watch Lucy. What’s going on with Beth?” Harrison asked as he placed his headphones down on the side table next to Lucy’s Dunkin Donuts confection.

“None of your business,” Henry replied shortly.

“Apparently they’re having a pow-wow that we’re not invited to,” Wes remarked before shoving an entire handful of cheerios into his mouth.

Henry and Harrison both made a face at the display.

“Hey Bean,” Harrison said, dropping a hand on Lucy’s head and giving her hair a firm ruffle. “How about we go upstairs and wake Neddy up, then I’ll take a shower and we get a Rockband tournament going?”

Lucy nodded enthusiastically, grabbing Harrison’s hand and gripping it tightly. Harrison laughed as she started to “drag” him up the stairs. It was comical for Henry to watch as his gigantic younger brother was being led around by his tiny daughter. Harrison was great with her though; always patient and gentle.

“I have a feeling she prefers the Bear to me,” Wes commented as he turned his attention back to the fitness program.

“Well, “the Bear�� isn’t hungover half the time she sees him,” Henry said pointedly.

Henry didn’t bother waiting for a reply. He made his way up the stairs, stopping only when he got to Beth’s door. It was closed and he gave it a tentative knock. After yesterday’s conversation, he highly doubted she was asleep.

After a moment, there was movement on the other side of the door. Beth opened it just a crack. Henry could barely see anything inside the room, but what he could see was his sister’s tired green eyes looking out at him.

“Did you bring it?” Beth’s voice was but a whisper as she opened the door wider.

Henry almost shook his head when he saw his sister because he didn’t want to believe it was her. Regardless of what time it was or how she was feeling, Beth was lively and full of spirit. Killian had said it best - Beth was a firecracker; exciting, explosive, loud and stunning. She was full of energy; always ready to slash someone down whether with a clever quip or her practice sword.

The person in front of him wasn’t lively, bawdy and boisterous at all; nothing like the Beth he knew. What Henry was looking at was a shadow of his sister. Beth, who had always been slender, looked now pale and positively gaunt. Dark bruises had formed under her eyes and there were long dried streaks of make up that trailed down her cheeks, indicating to Henry that she had been crying for quite awhile before he showed up. She looked like a paradoxical picture of youth and death; a pretty animated corpse. He didn’t want to believe this was his sister, but it was. All the anger and annoyance he had been harboring since last night seemed to deflate in an instant.

Henry offered her a weak smile and lifted the plastic bag in his grasp up for her to see. He gave it an unnecessary shake, the contents inside dully thudding against their packaging.

“I bought test and some juice in Portland on my way up. I didn’t think it would do us any good if I got it from Dark Star’s. The whole town would know about it two seconds after it was bought and I think the last thing you need right now is gossip,” he said gently.

Despite the softness of his tone, his words seemed to have broken this brittle and sad version of his sister. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she threw herself at him, clinging to him as if he was the only thing keeping her up. As her arms wrapped around him, Henry’s mind wandered idly back to a documentary he had watched on pythons. He recalled the amount of emphasis that been given on their kill methods and the amount of pressure per cubic inch they could enforce upon their prey. Python muscles had nothing on Beth Jones. Henry was almost certain that his internal organs would be squeezed out by the force of her embrace.

“Thank you,” Beth choked out in a faint whisper that broke  Henry’s heart. He ran his fingers through her hair in hopes of soothing her.

Every part of him hurt for her. She was so incredibly young; a child stuck in a precarious situation. Beth had never seemed so fragile and small before, but she did so now. She was looking at him with large green eyes that were pleading with him to be her lifeline.

“No need to thank me,” he murmured against her hair. “That’s what big brothers are for. It’s going to be okay.”

Beth seemed to break a bit more when he said the word ‘okay.’ Her body shook and Henry did his best to comfort her by rocking her gently from side to side.

He didn’t know what he was doing. He was a complete fish out of water. There wasn’t a manual out there for impossibly older brothers and how to handle their possibly pregnant teenager sisters. He kept thinking back on the mere six years difference between his sister and his daughter. He tried incredibly hard not to let that thought continue to freak him out.

“I’m pretty sure that big brothers aren’t supposed to buy pregnancy tests for their sisters, but okay,” Beth wetly laughed.

Henry cringed at the sound. Her laugh was a hollow and empty sound that bordered on hysteria.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Henry murmured, still rocking her gently and rubbing her back. “None of that, okay? Regardless of everything going on, I got your back. We all have your back. You got family, Beth, baby or not.”

“How can you say that?” Beth cried, tears falling off her face and dribbling down Henry’s leather jacket.

Her eyes bulged for a moment and a look of pure horror formed on her face as some dark thought flashed across her mind. Henry could only imagine how awful it was.

“Dad is going to kill me,” she said in a broken whisper. She looked ready to crumble.

Henry’s lips pulled into a tight smile. He has no illusions as to how his stepfather was going to react. Henry knew him well enough to know that Killian Jones was going to blow an absolute gasket if he discovered Beth, his unabashed pride and joy, was pregnant. He would be furious, incredibly upset and disappointed in his daughter, but he certainly wouldn’t kill her. The same could not be said for the currently unknown possible father, however. Henry couldn’t imagine a scenario where Killian didn’t try to run his hook through the unfortunate bastard that impregnated his only and beloved daughter.

“He will not kill you,” Henry murmured, placing a kiss on her head. “He and Mom might be upset and disappointed but they love you and will love you no matter what. It’s not like Mom has a leg to stand on when it comes to teenage pregnancies. At least you’re not in jail.”

As soon as he said it, Henry was hit with the sobering realization that his sister was roughly the same age as his mother when she had fallen pregnant with him. He had never truly thought on it before, but his mother had been like Beth, little more than a child. Not only that, she had been alone. Beth had him and though she didn’t believe it, she had an entire army of family that was willing to do anything to help her out if need be. Emma hadn’t had that. She had been locked in a prison cell with no one to turn to.

This revelation made him swallow roughly as a variety of emotions made themselves known. He felt a strong wave of admiration and sympathy for his mother. Seeing how broken Beth was at the moment made him realize the magnitude of Emma’s strength that went beyond just being the Savior. She had survived prison and given birth to a baby while being only a baby herself. And she had been alone.

That fact seemed to repeat itself on and on in Henry’s head. His mother had been alone. She had been pregnant and alone in jail. And his father had left her there. Henry sometimes thought about Neal and wondered what it would have been like if he had lived, but now all he felt towards him was anger. He had left his mother, the girl who had no one, left alone in jail. The fact she had been pregnant only made it worse. What sort of man did that?

A violent push from his sister cut him away from these thoughts and he was brought back to the present when Beth untangled herself from his grasp with an angry hiss.

“That was not remotely comforting!” she snapped.

Though she was angry, Henry was somewhat glad to see it. She looked more like his sister than the weeping zombie that clung to him. The fact she still had some steel in her bones made him more at ease. Beth was not a weeper. She was a fighter. An angry Beth, Henry could handle, but crying Beth had up him more off than the possibly of her being pregnant did.

“Sorry,” he replied apologetically. “I don’t have a basis for a situation like this. If you don’t mind me asking, who is the father? Well, possible father?”

Beth was quiet for a long moment and Henry was almost certain she wasn’t going to tell him.

“Benny Booth,” Beth sighed, running her hands through her hair and looking positively drained.

A flicker of anger returned to life in Henry’s stomach. This time wasn’t aimed at his sister and her carelessness, but rather at the asshole who had decided to mess around with his little sister. Benjamin Booth was three years older than Beth and though Henry no longer lived in Storybrooke, he was aware of his reputation as a lothario. He had once even tried to steal Henry’s motorcycle. Benny was handsome and charismatic, but was also manipulative and self-serving; the last person Henry wanted being with Beth.

“Ah, Beth, he’s nineteen. He has no business being around you. He’s an adult. You’re a kid. That’s statutory rape right there!” Henry exclaimed, trying to keep his anger out of his voice.

“It wasn’t rape,” Beth sighed, burying her face in her hands. “It was…we…we’re seeing each other…well, we had been. He hasn’t spoken to me since I told him about possible spawn.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Henry was just as surprised as Beth was by the amount of venom in his voice, but he meant every word.

“Henry, no. He’s not worth it,” Beth huffed, looking up from her hands.

“You seemed to think he was,” Henry snipped without thinking.

Beth looked pained at the remark and Henry immediately felt bad.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he said apologetically.

Beth put her palm up for a moment as if to make him stop talking before brining it back to her temple and sighing.

“No, no,” she said, fingers traveling down her face to pinch the bridge of her nose. “You’re right. I did and I was wrong. Look, it happened. Just give me the pee stick.”

Henry almost smiled at the abrupt command. It was signature Beth Jones to be blunt and crass whenever she could manage. Glimmers of his sister were rising from the surface and it reassured him that this situation hadn’t completely shaken her.

He handed her the plastic bag and she immediately rummaged through it, taking out the cranberry juice and the test. She carelessly tossed the remaining bag on the floor and Henry could hear his stepfather in the back of his mind throwing a fit over lack of proper disposal.

She eyed the cranberry juice dubiously for a moment before looking up at Henry.

“What? Did you think I had a UTI on top of possibly being pregnant?” Beth asked with a quirk of her brow as she uncapped the juice bottle and took a heavy swig.

“I thought you liked cranberry juice,” Henry replied hesitantly. “Was I wrong?”

“Yeah, I like cranberry juice. With vodka. But drinking it straight is kinda ‘meh.’ Ah well. I mean, at least it isn’t orange juice. That shit is nasty,” she replied as she took another sip.

“Only you would say orange juice is nasty,” Henry said with a shake of his head, sitting down on Beth’s bed and watching as she chugged the bottle. “Think you can pee on command?”

“That is a ridiculous question so I’m not even going to answer,” Beth responded with a snort, smacking her lips together as she finished the small bottle of cranberry juice.

Silence fell between them. Beth stared at the ceiling, tapping her fingers restlessly against the empty plastic bottle. Henry spent this time studying his sister. The more he looked at her, the more he thought on about their mother.

Beth strongly resembled Emma; she had the same slender built and similar facial features, though Beth’s cheeks were more pronounced and her lips a bit thinner than Emma’s. The major differences lay in Beth’s dark hair, pointed ears and tanner skin. Though if Henry ignored the hair and squinted a bit, he was certain he could see what his mother looked like at that age; the age were she had been pregnant with him.

Had Emma cried like Beth did when she realized she might be pregnant? How long had she been in prison before she started to suspect? Did she feel as resigned as Beth did when she realized that his father wasn’t going to be in the picture? He couldn’t ask Emma these questions, but something told him that she had been a bit like Beth - shocked, hysterical and panicked but trying to keep it all under wraps with small barbs and little jokes.

“How long do you think it will take before I feel the need to pee?” Beth asked, still looking at the ceiling.

“No idea, but I think I know a way to kick start it. I do it with Lucy every time I take her to the pediatrician,” Henry said, getting up from his spot on Beth’s bed.

He opened the door to the tiny little bathroom attached to Beth’s room and turned on the sink. Beth watched him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Think of rivers and waterfalls,” Henry instructed.

“Does that ever work?” Beth asked, not looking impressed in the slightest.

“It does for Luce.”

Beth rolled her eyes and resumed tapping against the bottle. Henry sat back down on the bed and resumed watching her.

If she ended up pregnant, there would a smaller age gap between his sister and her child than there would be between himself and his sister. That realization left an acrid taste in his mouth. Beth was too young and he hoped against everything in existence that she wasn’t.

Emma had been too young as well. The thought kept bouncing in the back of his mind. It was as if everything led back to the fact that his mother had given birth to him when she was only seventeen.

Beth got up abruptly and picked up the test. She looked nervous and lost again. When she realized he was looking at her, she gave him a tentative smile.

“Duty calls,” she said.

He gave her a strained smile.

“Good luck and be brave,” he replied, watching as she tiptoed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

As he watched her walk, he came to the decision that if she was pregnant, he would teach that kid how to walk properly. It wasn’t always noticeable, but Beth talked on her toes constantly to make herself look taller. It was an odd little thing that she did to look on par with the rest of them, but Henry was certain that she was going to fall over and break something someday. No, Beth’s kid would walk properly.

And Beth would not be Emma. That was the firm conclusion that Henry had come to. As he had said before, she had more family than she knew what to do with and they would always help her out. However, even if they did somehow cast her out (and they would have to be brainwashed, cursed or on drugs to even consider it), Henry would be there for her and the kid no matter what. He wasn’t going to allow her to go through this experience alone. He would move her and the kid in with him, Jacinda and Lucy if he needed to.

After what felt like ages, Henry got up from the bed, went up to Beth’s en-suite and knocked on the bathroom door.

“You okay in there, Queenie Bee?” he asked tentatively.

“Just waiting.” Her voice was a bit muffled, but still audible through the door.

“Need me to come in there?”

There was a loud scoff from the other side. Henry could picture her rolling her eyes at him.

“I can handle a pee stick. Thank you.”

More silence followed and Henry waited anxiously outside the door. After a few more moments, there was hysterical laughter and Henry jumped at the sound.

“Beth? You okay?”

Beth opened the door abruptedly and gave him the biggest grin.

“I’m not pregnant!” she laughed before waltzed around Henry back into the room. She began spinning around like she was Linda Carter, arms stretched out and waving in the air and dark hair flying everywhere. She looked manic. “Who’s not pregnant? I’m not pregnant! No Booth spawn in me! Fuck yes!”

Despite his relief, Henry couldn’t find it in himself to share in her excitement.

“Good,” he said firmly. “You’re telling Mom and Killian about this.”

The spinning stopped. Beth looked over her shoulder at him with an incredulous expression. She adjusted herself so she was completely facing him. All euphoric cheering was gone and placed with confusion and annoyance.

“Why would I tell them? I’m not pregnant, Henry. There’s nothing to tell,” Beth said in a hard tone.

“Nothing to tell? Beth, you were subhuman this morning. Barely alive and full of anxiety over just the idea of being pregnant. I don’t know how you would be mentally if that result went the other way. You may be feeling good right now, but I’m not convinced you’re okay. I’m pretty certain you need to talk to someone about this and they need to know,” Henry said, crossing his arms in front of his chest and looking at her sternly.

“Don’t go Dad Mode on me, Henry Mills. I’m your sister, not your daughter!” Beth glared.

“What happened to be me being padre número dos?” Henry asked, raising his eyebrows. “Look, this was a big deal, Beth. I bought you a fucking fifteen-dollar pregnancy test and held you while you had a complete meltdown. You owe me this because I don’t feel comfortable keeping this from them.”

“Bro Code was invoked, Henry!” Beth hissed. “You cannot tell them!”

“Okay, Beth, Bro Code was originally made between Harrison, Wes and myself. You were not a party to it, so technically you can’t even invoke it. You have no leg to stand on, kid. Also the Bro Code was made with the purpose of keeping Wes from doing completely stupid shit and so that I could somewhat control him. Bro Code has nothing to do with accidental and potential pregnancies,” Henry replied, completely serious. “This…this could have gone south so fast, Beth. And if you don’t tell them, I will.”

Beth’s face was completely red and she looked like she wanted to punch Henry’s lights out. Her jaw was clenched and her fists were balled at her sides. Henry glanced around the room, taking in how many swords were just carelessly lying around it. He pitied anyone who tried to navigate this disaster in the dark. It was a dismemberment waiting to happen.

“I’ll tell Dad,” she said after a moment. “But let me do it on my terms.”

“No. Beth, you’re not doing it on your terms. You’re doing it on my terms,” Henry stated, holding firm. “You’re going to tell your father about this sometime before dinner or I’m going to tell him. And I’m going to be honest with you, if he hears it from me, he’s going to blow a gasket. And it’s going to be worse for you.”

“Fine,” she spat. “I’ll tell him before dinner, but if you tell him before the deadline, I will never forgive you. Now get out of my room.”

“I honestly wouldn’t expect anything else. But remember, tick tock goes the clock, Elizabeth,” Henry said with a sigh as he made his exit.

Henry went back downstairs where Harrison was showing Lucy and Neddy how to play better on Rockband. Neddy looked positively bored with it while Lucy’s cute face was screwed in concentration as she tried to follow her uncle’s meticulous instructions. Wes was laid out on the couch with a pillow over his head and Henry wouldn’t be surprised he was plotting everyone’s death underneath it. He watched them for a moment, waiting for Harrison’s lesson to end before approaching his daughter and placing a kiss on her head.

“What was that for?” she asked, looking a bit confused.

“No reason,” Henry smiled at her. “Just don’t be quick to grow up, okay?”

“Okay…”

It was a few more moments before Beth joined them, her lips still pursued in an angry frown and glaring at Henry every chance she got. Henry promptly did his best to ignore this behavior. If she wanted to act like a brat, then she could act like a brat. It just made him grateful she wasn’t going to be someone’s mother.

The glowering continued throughout the day and every time Henry caught her staring him down, he mouthed ‘tick tock’ at her. When they finally met up with their parents, Emma gave him a confused look when she saw him mouthing it at her.

“Do I even want to know what is going on?” she asked over dinner, watching as Killian and Beth walked outside of Granny’s to have their conversation.

Henry sighed.

“You’ll know soon enough,” he said, following Emma’s gaze and watching his stepfather and sister through the window.

Killian and Beth talked outside for long while. Henry observed as Beth wrung her hands and looked at her feet, fidgeting profusely while Killian looked more and more pained with each word. At the end of their conversation, they hugged tightly and Killian kissed the top of his daughter’s head. Henry was slightly surprised with his reaction. He was expecting a little more anger out of Killian over the situation, but was glad that he wasn’t the one who had to break the news of the pregnancy scare fiasco.

After dinner and when they returned back to the house to watch a film before bed, Killian pulled Henry aside and clapped him on the back.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Killian said quietly. “Thank you for helping Beth out. I’m grateful that she was able to talk to you and get some help. Though I won’t lie, I’m a bit upset that she didn’t choose to come to me.”

“She loves you and she really doesn’t want to disappoint you,” Henry replied. “Don’t beat yourself up. It was a tough situation and I think she was afraid you would disown her.”

Killian scoffed.

“I’m not going to disown her because of some ridiculous boy. That’s absurd.”

Henry frowned. That didn’t sound right. There should be a lot more anger there regardless of the fact that Beth wasn’t actually pregnant.

“Killian, if you don’t mind me asking…what did Beth tell you?”

“She told me how she was having boy trouble with some kid who was trying to blackmail her into doing some repulsive things even by my standards,” Killian responded with a frown. He looked at Henry with a perplexed expression, eyes intensely searching his face. “Why is there more to the story that I need know?”

The corner of Henry’s mouth twitched as rage roared inside of him. He was furious at Beth for lying and putting him in this situation. She had said she was going to tell her father and had deceived them all. More than that, she hafd called him out on his bluff and put him in a hard situation. Henry firmly believed that Killian deserved to know what was going with Beth and that Beth really needed to talk to someone, preferably a professional, about the experience. At the same time, he understood why Beth didn’t tell Killian and knew if he told Killian the truth right now, Beth would never forgive him. He would lose the trust of his little sister.

Henry sighed and a ran through his hair, silently cursing his sister in the back of his head.

“Nothing,” Henry lied. “There’s nothing else to it at all.”