#i think its just the adult brain setting in and making me unable to watch the later seasons without instantly recognizing the merch ploys

[spooky-narwhal]

Im oddly jealous of modern MLP fans. Not gen 5 fans specifically but modern MLP fans who are able to watch Season 5 and onwards and enjoy the series. My nostalgia for the classic MLP fandom and the Seasons before then just refuse to let me get invested T~T

[dracotheocracy]

Bond. James Bond.

Plz give me all the info you've got on hand!

i am so glad you asked. fair warning: i will have nothing good to say about james bond.

now this wouldn't be a mars ask if i didn't set up dubiously necessary context before getting into it: i have a relatively well-documented history of being hooked into medias that are like watching car crashes (e.g., the irregular at magic high school, white collar). as it tends to happen in trash fire fiction i have seen some really problematic shit- irregular's main ship, for example, is an incest ship that's pushed by the narrative to the point where i think it isn't inaccurate to call its narrative somewhat pro-incest, and white collar is a police drama produced in 2010 which i think tells you most of what you need to know about the narrative it pushes about justice. all this, especially when compounded by some legitimately terrible writing, scratches a certain itch in the part of my brain that likes to tear shit apart.

the james bond novels will quickly become my latest victim, as i have to read From Russia, with Love for a course on spy fiction i'm taking this semester. i will likely have this tumblr post pulled up during the discussion we have about it in about 9 hours as what's under the cut is essentially a close-ish reading of the first 10 chapters of the novel.

tw misogyny, queerphobia, racism, sexual violence, demonization of mental illness

i have watched my fair share of james bond movies. they do not fucking prepare you for how bad the novels are. i am 10 out of 38 chapters into this novel (one of 14 novels!) and i have developed something of a hatred for ian fleming.

in 10 chapters the plot is only just beginning to get rolling, so in terms of actual writing quality i can give no judgements beyond "well i can sort of tell that by the end i am going to think 'hm this was not that good.'" now the bond franchise was never meant to be a literary masterpiece so it doesn't actually have to be all that good, it just has to be entertaining, and because my idea of entertainment is looking on in horror as some aspect of the writing finds a way to get worse somehow, by god has it been delivering thus far

what i CAN tell you is that ian fleming is teaching a masterclass on how to write with the male gaze. three female characters have been introduced in these first 10 chapters- a nameless masseuse who's really just there to make sure the opening of the novel is suitably erotic, rosa klebb, and tatiana romanov.

he has made a point of mentioning all of their breasts within give or take 3 paragraphs of their introductions, dear lord i might even be giving him too much credit. the nameless masseuse took her shirt off and was just tits out for most of the scene she was in actually, but that didn't really matter as much relative to the other glaring issue with that scene that i will be getting to later. he's also referred to his female characters as women as opposed to calling them girls maybe, once per character, so far. maybe that's a quirk of british english in the 1950s that nobody would think anything of, but it's something that adds up to the point that it's very much worth noticing to me- all of these women are grown adults and while i find myself unable to articulate exactly why it feels wrong to me that they're repeatedly called girls. it could be because i find it infantilizing, maybe, i feel like the word usage here diminishes their agency

the nameless masseuse doesn't really get a lot dedicated to her appearance relative to the named women, and the opening scene happens mostly in her point of view. there is also a man in this scene who i will be getting to in full later, but for now i will point your attention towards two quotes:

"[S]he wondered why she loathed this splendid body, and once again she vaguely tried to analyse her revulsion. Perhaps this time she would get rid of feelings which she felt guiltily certain were much more unprofessional than the sexual desire some of her patients awoke in her." "Now was the time when many of her patients, particularly the young ones on the football team, would start joking with her. Then, if she was not very careful, the suggestions would come. Sometimes she could silence these by digging sharply down towards the sciatic nerve. At other times, and particularly if she found the man attractive, there would be giggling arguments, a brief wrestling-match and a quick, delicious surrender."

this scene is written from her perspective and it's here to introduce the male character in it. but who cares about that, what is it telling us about the masseuse? well. she thinks her patients are hot and has sex with them sometimes. that's really about it, i think her portrayal in the scene as a whole would indicate that she's plain or a little dumb but there isn't much character to discern because ian is far more concerned with talking about the man in this scene in a way that's pretty sexually charged while also establishing the first bits of information you get about him as the reader. the only purpose of a female POV in this scene is to make it more erotic, i think it's pretty clear he doesn't really care about this character's anything beyond the inherent sex appeal she gets by being female and the ability to write a somewhat erotic description of a male character without it coming off as weird and homosexual.

our next female character is rosa klebb. i will be getting back to something more important about her later, for now i'd like to focus on how fleming, from a male character's perspective, describes her.

"She was short, about five foot four, and squat, and her dumpy arms and short neck, and the calves of the thick legs in the drab khaki stockings, were very strong for a woman. The devil knows, thought Kronsteen, what her breasts were like, but the bulge of uniform that rested on the table-top looked like a badly packed sandbag, and in general her figure, with its big pear-shaped hips, could only be likened to a 'cello."

i'll be honest this is an excuse to show off one of the titty quotes and rosa klebb is a pretty big offender. a lot of the impression we get of her in the beginning is done less to give us an impression of her and more to establish the kind of character our current POV man, kronsteen, has. kronsteen is an emotionally detached, manipulative, and insightful (in the dnd insight skill way) chess master who works for the MGB. he's the criminal mastermind smart guy who makes all the plans. now i suspect the purpose of rosa's physical description doesn't have much to do with showing anything particularly notable about kronsteen's character, there's a paragraph dedicated to the rules he uses to read/judge people that tells you far more about him than this does even if you try to analyze it, mostly because this is also how ian talks about women in the absence of a POV character

which brings us to tatiana romanov! who has her physical appearance described in a scene that is set in her POV:

"One of her early boy-friends had said she looked like the young Greta Garbo. What nonsense! And yet tonight she did look rather well. ... She smiled at herself in the mirror. Yes, it was wide; but then so had Garbo's been. At least the lips were full and finely etched. There was the hint of a smile at the corners. No one could say it was a cold mouth! And the oval of her face. Was that too long? Was her chin a shade too sharp? She swung her head sideways to see it in profile. The heavy curtain of hair swung forward and across her right eye so that she had to brush it back. Well, the chin was pointed, but at least it wasn't sharp."

"In fact Corporal Tatiana Romanova was a very beautiful girl indeed. Apart from her face, the tall, firm body moved particularly well. ... Her arms and breasts were faultless. A purist would have disapproved of her behind. Its muscles were so hardened with exercise that it had lost the smooth downward feminine sweep, and now, round at the back and flat and hard at the sides, it jutted like a man's."

wild guess. shot in the dark. she's this novel's bond girl. ian gives a glowing description of her features during which he establishes that she thinks a lot about her appearance and is perhaps somewhat insecure about it, but still believes herself to be beautiful. the stuff i took out and replaced with the ellipsis is really much of the same as what follows the ellipsis. the second quote is switching briefly from romanova's POV to that of the narrator, and of course it ends on a description of her tits and ass because, well, why not. now i will give some amount of grace in that romanova does have, like, a personality, but much like the masseuse she's, bland might not be the correct way to describe it, but she has this very gentle, [in a sarcastic tone of voice] divine feminine quality to her. to quote the next chapter, "This was a beautiful, guileless, innocent girl." i admit reluctantly that ian did a decent job of showing us this before telling us- her demeanor when she gets a call from a superior officer in the MGB betrays as much with her immediate panic over what she might've done to get a call at unusual hours from her superiors and pretty meek acceptance of what she probably sees as certain death, and her concern with her appearance in the parts i quote might come across as a bit superficial but the insecurity, the way she appraises herself, paints her less as vain and more as a shy beauty (to be conquered by bond later of course)

we return back to the scene with the masseuse, this time to talk about donovan grant, or granitsky. he is a major villain.

"Donovan Grant was the result of a midnight union between a German professional weight-lifter and a Southern Irish waitress. The union lasted for a quarter of an hour on the damp grass behind a circus tent outside Belfast."

i am genuinely curious why ian thought it necessary to mention that his parents fucked for 15 minutes in the sex that conceived him. we must note the nationalities of his parents because with the prior james bond knowledge that dr. no, a major villain from earlier in the bond timeline, has a german father and a chinese mother, makes me suspect there might be a pattern in what heritages ian likes to give his antagonists. (READ: GERMAN AND [INSERT OPPRESSED NATIONALITY HERE]). it should be noted that granitsky's father immediately fucks right off and he's raised in southern ireland. dr. no, i'm fairly certain, was also raised in china as his father was a german missionary if memory serves. ian throughout the first couple chapters establishes that communist spies are pretty culturally and racially diverse, which would be cool i guess if the communists weren't evil in this setting. later in his exposition about granitsky's backstory he describes the spy school he attended in leningrad, specifically its makeup: "Germans, Czechs, Poles, Balts, Chinese and Negroes..." (about the use of the word Negro, the bond novels were written in the 50s. for clarity). there's a mention in a later chapter of a particularly accomplished black soviet agent. i will update this post if there's any racial diversity on the MI6 side of things but... somehow i doubt it...... anyway, i point this out just to make a note that the side we're rooting for here is the side of the white englishman where his villains tend to come from less privileged cultural backgrounds

i'm not done with donovan. he gets worse. his character says a lot about society and particularly how little ian fleming thinks about like, anything. donovan grant is a high ranking assassin in the MGB. he's a boxer that defected from british armed forces oh also he's a serial killer

"It was about this time that his body began to feel strange and violent compulsions around the time of the full moon. When, in October of his sixteenth year, he first got 'The Feelings' as he called them to himself, he went out and strangled a cat. This made him 'feel better' for a whole month. ... Often he had to go very far to find what he wanted and, after two months of having to satisfy himself with geese and chickens, he took a chance and cut the throat of a sleeping tramp."

grant is diagnosed 2 chapters later with manic depression that flares up once a month. he has to go out and kill people or drink his urges away once a month because he has manic depression that is explicitly stated. it's almost 1am so i'm not going to dignify this with an especially winded explanation of what's wrong with this scene. that's a wildly inaccurate portrayal of what we now understand as bipolar depressive disorder and a demonizing one at that, because, you know, evidently manic episodes make you go out and kill people right that's definitely accurate and based in verifiable fact right. he was diagnosed as a narcissist also while we're on the topic of demonizing portrayals of already very stigmatized mental illnesses

"When he killed the occasional girl he did not 'interfere' with her in any way. That side of things, which he had heard talked about, was quite incomprehensible to him. It was only the wonderful act of killing that made him 'feel better'. Nothing else."

so as an aro/ace myself i dig into this one particularly hard. there is one hell of an implication here about an asexual's capacity for love, compassion, you know, emotions, the things many people argue make us human. it's just incredible to me, really, that ian decides to introduce this character's asexuality by saying "he doesn't rape the women he kills because he does not experience sexual desire." it's very, very clearly not something that's supposed to reflect positively on donovan, which is just insane because you'd figure this would be a "well at least he doesn't rape women he only kills them :|" but instead it's "he doesn't rape the women he kills how awful and weird!"

the train of logic there is relatively easy for me to piece together i think. if someone is okay with murder, that is, on the sliding scale of evil actions, generally placed above being ok with sexual violence. at least i suspect this is reliably true in the 50s when this novel was written. the intended takeaway from this as a result is probably something along the lines of, "well, this person already has something deeply wrong with him. someone who would commit such a grave sin as killing another human being shouldn't have any qualms with crimes that are of a lesser magnitude, ergo if he's killing the woman why does he not rape her as well? it must be because he has no sexuality!" which is going to be treated as a bad thing. this is james bond. this is a series that deals heavily with sexuality, the bond girl is a known staple of the series for a reason, right, and the stance ian takes is that sexual desire is part of what makes us in some respects human, and that something is wrong with you if you don't experience it.

grant is not the only queer character in From Russia, with Love, check this out:

"It was said that Rosa Klebb would let no torturing take place without her." "For, or so they whispered, she would take the camp-stool and draw it up close below the face of the man or woman that hung down over the edge of the interrogation table. Then she would squat down on the stool and look into the face and quietly say 'No1' or 'No10' or 'No25' and the inquisitors would know what she meant and they would begin. And she would watch the eyes in the face a few inches away from hers and breathe in the screams as if they were perfume."

"Rosa Klebb undoubtedly belonged to the rarest of all sexual types. She was a neuter. ... The stories of men and, yes, of women, were too circumstantial to be doubted. She might enjoy the act physically, but the instrument was of no importance. For her, sex was nothing more than an itch. And this psychological and physiological neutrality of hers at once relieved her of so many human emotions and sentiments and desires... She was a lone operator, but never a lonely one, because the warmth of company was unnecessary to her."

there is so much wrong with this. she's rumored to be a neuter i.e having non-functional sex organs in this context, i think. i do believe ian is trying to indicate that she might be intersex here. she fucks both men and women, maybe she's bisexual, and she does not get any emotional fulfillment out of relationships and sex to her is "nothing more than an itch." sex is often described as the ultimate form of intimacy and i do think there's an argument to be made for an aro/ace reading of this if what we're being told here is, essentially, that she gets no emotional fulfillment from sex and it's merely a pleasurable act. regardless there's something to be said about the only two characters thus far with unusual sexual identities being a serial killer and a torturer. they're both portrayed as incredibly cruel and incapable of forming meaningful relationships with other people and the fact it happens twice in the same book i think is indicative of a pattern in how ian (and his time period more broadly) views queer identities.

um yeah so that's my review of the first 10 chapters of From Russia, with Love by ian fleming like and subscribe for more

[thewritetofreespeech]

MC + Cursed Toddler-fied Boys

prompt: All the boys suffer the same fate as Satan by reading ‘The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization’

Lucifer

You have to wonder why they kept so many cursed books around, just out like this. You would think, like any normal person, with this continuing to happen, that they would keep them locked up or something. But no. They just leave them out for anyone to find….

“I’m going to the meeting!” Lucifer yelled, stamping his foot. His face twist in a petulant frown. It would be rather adorable, if you hadn’t been arguing with him for the past 20 minutes

“Lucifer, we talked about this. You can’t go to the meeting. You need to stay here.”

“No! I wanna go to the meeting! It’s very important and everyone is counting on me!” His arms are wailing now as he stamped his foot more.

Of course, you couldn’t let him go to the first of the month meeting like this. His pride would be wounded beyond compare if anyone else saw him like this. But reasoning with him wasn’t working. You had to resort to more, unsavory tactic to win. “But the meeting was cancelled. Lord Diavolo called earlier to let me know.”

Lucifer stopped stamping his feet and waving his arms to look at you with a vacant expression you didn’t know he could muster. “Really?”

Gods help you. “Yes, really.”

He seemed to think about this for a moment before he beamed, “ok!” His mood instantly brightening. “I believe you, because [Y/N] would never lie to me.” ‘Forgive me Lucifer’ You think to yourself. “What are we gonna do instead then?”

“Why don’t we play a game instead to pass the time? Would you like that?”

“I know chess!” He exclaimed loudly. “Let’s play that.”

Of course, knowing and being good at it were two different things. In this state you were actually able to beat Lucifer several times. When he retuned to normal the day was ‘conveniently’ put away for sometime after.

Mammon

“Mammon. Please. I’ll just be gone for a minute.”

“Nooooooo!” Mammon wailed when you tried to get up again. Clinging to your waist tightly to keep you on the couch. “Onii-chan said you had to stay with me! Stay with me! Stay with me!”

After reading The Forbidden Book of Toddlerization, Mammon had, of course, reverted to the personality of a small child. His brother made fun of him, say ‘what’s the difference’, but Lucifer knew that this could be a disaster if he was set to wander free in this state across the Devildom. So he sat you to babysit him.

“Mammon, I promise I’ll be right back. I’m just going to get us some snacks for our movie.”

“Then let me come with you!” He whined, still clinging to you. In this state it seemed he had also taken on the personality of a baby duck. Imprinting on you and following you around everywhere you went in his room. He hadn’t left you alone for 5 seconds since he got this way. “I promise I’ll be good!”

“It’s not a question of you being good or bad Mammon-chan.” He liked to be called Mammon-chan right now. “It’s that you need to stay here. If someone sees you like this well…they could use it to tease you.”

“No…I don’t want to be teased anymore….” His voice was low, and sad. His bright eyes looking on the verge of tears, like kids do when they’re said, before he buried his face into your side. “Mammon-chan doesn’t want to be made fun of anymore. Mammon-chan also doesn’t want to be alone anymore.”

You sigh. Unable to argue with him when he was like this. Your hand lifted to pet his head, which he seemed to appreciate, before you text Satan to bring you some snacks. He was always reliable and would do it for you.

Once the affects of the book had worn off, Mammon denied any of this happening. The mere mention would cause his face to turn red and yell about how, “that didn’t happen!” You almost wish you had taken a video of it to show him. Guess you would just have to keep Mammon-chan forever in your heart.

Levi

You went to Levi’s room after class to check on him in his….condition.

Since he did remote learning a lot of the time, being an otaku, it was pretty easy to keep him away from people so they did see him in the current state he was in. Apparently as a toddler he didn’t like being around people either.

So, you had set him up comfortably in his room before heading to class. Promising to come back that afternoon to be with him.

“Levi! I’m back! How are you—what are you doing?!?!”

“Playing with my toys.” Levi replied, with an obvious expression, as a sea of toys stretch out in front of him where he laid on his belly on the floor.

Your brain stopped. Completely at a loss for words. Levi was going to kill you when he returned to normal, because toddler-Levi, left unattended, had unboxed nearly all of his figurines from their packaging. Some of which were incredibly rare, and unable to get anymore.

“I just…I mean…Why?? Why would you do this??”

“They’re my toys.” Levi replied with a pout. Sitting up. “I can do what I want with them. What’s the point in having neat toys if you aren’t going to play with them??”

He did have a point there. But adult-Levi was going to be so mad!

“Do you want to play with me?” The demon asked with a hopeful expression. “You can even be blue Ruri-chan.” The limited edition, color swap Ruri-chan from 1999. He was gonna blow a gasket!

“Yeah. Ok.” But then again, when were you ever going to be able to touch them again.

As expected, Levi totally lost it when he came to his senses. Of course, there was no one to blame but himself, in the end, so he just had to be upset and mope alone. Thankfully, none of them were broken or beyond just out of their originally packaging. He bought them all clear showcase boxes for his ‘ruined’ figurines. Some of them he could rebuy to replace; which seemed to make him happy to have two.

Satan

It had been hours since the affects of the book had taken ahold of Satan. You were starting to wonder if they would ever wear off.

Lucifer had left in search of another book, one that might help speed the process along, and left his younger brother in your care. Of course you were happy to help, but you were getting nervous you would never see the old Satan again.

“[Y/N]-chan?” You look up from your phone, waiting for Lucifer to text you back, to see the blonde demon looking timidly at you from around the corner. 

“What is it Satan?”

“Would you….read to me?” His hands holding out the small children’s book he had some how found in the piles of books covering his room.

You smile softly at him. Your heart warmed by his request. “Of course,” you tell him, and the demon scampered over to sit on the bed beside you. His long legs and body tucked neatly into you as he waited for you to tell him the story of a little lost chicken and it’s journey back home. “[Y/N] tells the best stories!”

After 3 stories, he had fallen asleep. When he woke up, Satan was back to normal. He doesn’t answer your questions on where the children’s books had come from, but you spot the red & gold spines on his book shelves sometimes.

Asmo

There was no denying that Asmo was fascinated by art and all things beautiful. He went on and on about it any chance he got. So you shouldn’t have really been surprised when his toddlerfied self just wanted to draw all day.

“Look, look [Y/N]-chan! I finished another one!”

“That’s great Asmo.” You praise. Just like you had done with all the other ones he had handed to you. “Wow! This is really great! Is that a….chicken?”

“No, silly! That’s the white horse for our carriage when we get married!” The demon beamed, then shuffled over on his knees to instruct you on his picture properly. “That’s you, and that’s me. That’s the princess carriage that’s going to ride us off into the sunset. That’s Solomon and Simeon throwing flowers at us. That’s my brothers crying because I got to marry [Y/N]-chan and they didn’t.”

“You certainly seem to have all the parts here.” You praise. Giggling at his enthusiasm and picture.

“I want to have a perfect picture of when we get married. Because I love [Y/N]-chan! And we’re gonna get married and live happily ever after.” He replied, with certainty, with a smile.

“Well, I’ll be glad for that. Why don’t you draw me our perfect house for after we get married?” Asmo scampered off and did just that.

When Asmo came to, and back to his normal self, he took all the pictures he had drawn and framed them. Forcing his brothers and Solomon to take a tour of his mini-art gallery. The piece ‘Marriage of Two Bonded Souls’ was met with some controversy.

Beel

Beel, in his younger days, seemed to have boundless energy. Or you at least had to assume he did, because ever since he had read that stupid book he had been running around.

Lucifer had told you to take him outside. Irritated at hearing his large feet clump around the house, but trying not to show it since it wasn’t his fault. He even let you both take Cerberus outside to help run Beel out. It would be good for the pup too. Get some exercise, he said.

That had been sometime ago, and it seemed baby-Beel and Cerberus were an even match in energy. They had been running around, chasing each other, and play fighting in the back yard all afternoon. You were tired just watching them.

“Beel! Do you want to come in? I think it’s time for a break.”

Both Beel and Cerberus pop their heads up, in a comical and adorable unison head tilt, before jogging over to you. “Break time means snack time right?!”

You chuckle a little. Somethings never changed. “I brought some apple slices & peanut butter for you, for now. We can get you something bigger when we go inside.”

Beel grinned and sat in the grass with the container. “I like apple slices!”

“You do hn?” You don’t think you’ve seen Beel eat an actual fruit on its own. It was usually attached to, baked in, or covered in something, to get him to eat it.

“Yep! They’re crunchy and sweet. Just like you! Though, I guess you aren’t crunchy. Do you want one of my apple slices [Y/N]?”

You blush a little at Beel’s bright, unwavering expression. How could he look so innocent while still looking like that?

He finished his apple slices, minus one, before asking if he could go play again. You let him, but then all of a sudden he spotted playing with Cerberus and stood straight up. Seeming confused on how he got out here and what was going on. “Did I eat an apple? I haven’t had one since….do you think we have more in the kitchen?”

Belphie

It was honestly hard to tell if Belphie was under the spell of the forbidden book or not. He’d been asleep for most of the time; which was not uncommon for him. Then he would wake up and whine a little about something; again, not uncommon for him. Then he would take another nap.

You had figure out that he was still under it’s spell by the requests he was making when he woke up. Juice boxes. More plushies. His ‘blankie’. Eventually it would run its course though, and Belphie would be back to his own sleepy eyed, grown up self. “[Y/N]?”

You walk over to the bed when the demon called your name. The boy half sitting up, but still tucked under his covers. “What is it Belphie?”

“I can’t sleep.” He stated. Which seemed ridiculous since he had been sleeping most of the day. “I miss Lilli. And Be-be. Can you sleep with me?”

You blink at little at the request. You supposed it made since. Kids often wanted someone to sleep with them, so they didn’t have bad dreams or could keep them safe. Maybe that’s why he had been sleeping so much. Because he hadn’t been sleeping well, just sleep.

“Sure Belphie. I’ll lay down with you.” The demon smiled softly, sleepy, before he scooted over to give you some space to lay next to him.

He slept for a while this last time. Clinging onto you in his sleep, with a soft smile on his face. When he woke up, it seemed he was back to normal. “Gosh [Y/N]. If you wanted to sleep with me, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to trick me with that lame book.”

[96dys]

hydrangea ; johnny seo

money makes the world turn. there was so much of it, and yet so few people ever saw it. maybe if it weren’t for the money, johnny might have acted differently. maybe his family’s badgering wouldn’t have weighed on him as much as it did. maybe he wouldn’t have taken you, because finding a wife this way wouldn’t have mattered. he didn’t like the circumstance, but he couldn’t keep himself from liking you—the dirt-poor girl who worried more about helping others than feeding herself.

ceo au

taglist: @tyongpoetry @xianxian95 @aaaaalex05

masterlist

02 | little prince

eating breakfast alone wasn't something that was very new to you, though it wasn't often that you were able to eat breakfast, let alone something this size. your stomach had begun to ache just looking at the size of the plate in front of you, but your eyes lit up in awe of the colorful array of fruits. of course, they were accompanied by an alarming amount of vitamins and supplements, just as you'd been asked to take the previous day. a glass of water was provided to help you wash it all down, which you gladly sipped on between bites.

for the sake of getting out of your bedroom, you'd asked to have your meal in the common area, though you did your best to keep yourself just as isolated. you sat with your legs crossed in front of the coffee table, mindful of the way the skirt of your pale pink dress fell upon your lap. despite being alone, you couldn't help but feel as though you were being watched at all times. the door was open but a crack, just enough for you to see staff members pass through the narrow hallway. the curtains had been pulled open, allowing the bright sunshine to wash over your figure. a peaceful silence filled the air, something you were especially fond of. jisung was very kind, but you weren't sure you'd be able to handle any more of his mindless chatter after this morning.

of course, he had offered to keep you company while you dined, but you were very quick to decline. as hard as you tried, you were unable to hide your haste, for he had just spent almost an hour talking your ear off about the most random details of the wedding to come in just two days. it had gotten to the point where you stopped trying to decide which information was important and what was not in favor of blocking it all out entirely. even as you stood under the warm stream of water flowing from the showerhead above, you could hear him muttering things to himself as he tidied up your bedroom. you most imagined this behavior was due to growing up without the presence of others his age--if anyone at all. while you did feel sympathetic toward the boy, you weren't used to the constant noise.

your previous life was fairly quiet, even at the tiny, makeshift school where you had spent all of your free time. there was always the odd occasion where a child or two would be exceptionally talkative, though most of the time the children were too malnourished to have the energy. it was a struggle to get the group to participate much at all, let alone speak amongst themselves. you tried your best to encourage your pupils to make friends with one another, but this wasn't something that was accepted with open arms. you couldn't even find it in yourself to be upset at them for this, given that your brother had been your only friend growing up; it was this way for most people you knew.

after a long day at the school, you would go home to an empty home. it was tiny and everything seemed to be falling apart, but it gave you a private space to unwind as much as you possibly could. you never cared to invite anyone over, nor did you have anyone to visit. it was lonely at first, but after a while the silence became very calming. perhaps this was because it was the only constant in your life; the only thing that would be waiting for you at home without fail. a meal was not always promised, nor was a new book to read, but there would always be a heavy silence ready to envelope you as you drifted off each night.

looking down at your plate, you noticed that it was nearly empty. oh how you wished your brother was there to fight you over what remained, like he used to when he was too young to understand how little your family truly had to go around. unless you finished your food with incredible speed, he would begin whining about how hungry he was, about how you needed to share with him. you would always shoot him a glare and questioned why he deserved to eat more than you did, which would only result in the little boy pinching the tender skin around your ankles. as you cried out in pain, he would quickly grab at the food resting atop your lap., smiling to himself as he bit into your food. this wasn't something you ever imagined yourself missing, although the change in circumstance caused the memory to become very fond.

after having your entire life uprooted against your will, you've found that many of the things you used to find so unpleasant have been on your mind. this was especially conflicting, as none of these were things you had to deal with within recent years. it almost made you sad to realize that there was nothing to your life that was worth missing; everything you cared for had been ripped from your fingers the moment all of your family members were gone. you longed not for the days you spent as an adult, but the miserable nights you spent as a child begging your father to stop yelling at you over whichever minor inconvenience had stressed him out that time.

perhaps the anger you felt toward your current situation was purely out of spite, though this only caused your heart to sink a little further down into your chest. was your life of so little meaning that you couldn't find a good reason to continue to be hateful? did you have so little back home that this new setting seemed only a little less than pleasant? the change was beyond unfair, yet you could only sigh knowing that you were likely better off here anyway. you wanted to do more--to lash out in anger, fear, or something--but you just couldn't.

a light knock floated through the air, causing you to dart your head toward the door. it had been pushed open, allowing johnny to lean against the frame. he was smiling down at you, like he was genuinely happy to see you a second time. your eyes widened ever so slightly, just enough to make him chuckle. you had been doubting his promise to make time for you everyday, so his presence came as a bit of a surprise. in all honesty, you figured that work would come first, making you an afterthought for him to tend to at the end of the day, but he was as early as he possibly could be without having interrupted your meal. it was as though he couldn't wait.

"i'm really glad to see that you've eaten," he spoke happily, glancing at your plate for a moment before returning his gaze toward your face. he could tell that you'd taken all of your vitamins as well, which made his smile widen just a bit. a wave of joy washed over him momentarily, knowing that you felt comfortable enough to do so without any resistance. he made a mental note to send someone to clean up the remains of your meal, though it wasn't like you had left much of a mess at all. "we don't have to leave now, but i'm ready whenever you are. i don't mind waiting in here for a little while if that's what you want to do."

you set your fork down on the edge of your plate and shook your head. there was nothing left for you to do here and therefore no reason to stay. standing up was a very slow process, as you had to be very cautious in your dress, but it felt nice to stretch your legs once you were able to do so. it was no surprise that you were fatigued already, but you hoped it wasn't very obvious to the man in front of you. he seemed unfazed, so you assumed he was unable to tell.

"please tell me there's less walking this time," you muttered, mostly to yourself.

johnny laughed in response as he took a step to the side, allowing you to pass through the doorway. it wasn't hard to fall in time with your lazy footsteps, yet continuing to keep your pace posed a bit of a challenge for someone with such long legs. he did his best, though he wound up a few steps ahead within a minute flat.

he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white plastic card. he waved it around for a moment before returning it to its spot, smirking down at you.

"it's your lucky day; being with me means you get to use the elevator and not the stairs."

an elevator. you were unable to form a proper response. of course, you'd read about such a thing in a few of your old books, though you had yet to use one yourself. it wasn't very often you ever entered a building with two stories, let alone enough to warrant the installation of an elevator. you wondered why the little card was relevant, only to conclude a few moments later that it must be some sort of a key. then, you wondered why it would be restricted. if you were able to use the stairs without issue, what was the purpose of deeming the elevator off limits? if they accomplished the same thing, you would get to your intended destination regardless. maybe he felt that blocking off the stairs wasn't needed, given the likeliness of you getting lost before making it anywhere important.

for a brief minute or so, you found yourself feeling less than adequate. it wasn't that you felt an overwhelming need to impress anyone here, but it was quickly becoming evident that you truly knew so much less than he did. the rational part of your brain knew that there was no one to blame for this, and yet you couldn't help but think that you should've taken it upon yourself to learn more. just knowing how to read as fluently as you did was a feat in and of itself, but the accomplishment seemed meaningless in comparison to all the things you did not know. you didn't even want to think about how poor your math skills had to be next to his.

much to your surprise, it didn't take very long to reach the elevator either. you both stopped in front of two metal doors, causing you to stare curiously as he swiped the little card. you bit back a gasp as they pulled apart. when you were rushed down to the garden yesterday, you had assumed that these doors were different solely for decoration. remembering that johnny works in technology, you didn't feel that it would be very off to assume that he would have more of a futuristic sense of style. stepping into the little room though, you realized that this made much more sense.

each wall was mirrored, causing you to become lost in your reflection as the doors came to a close. you could see johnny press a button on the large panel to his right, though you failed to focus your attention on the action itself. you didn't bother to wrack your brain trying to figure out how the elevator began to move on its own just a few seconds later, as you were so entranced by the couple that stood before you. you were already well aware of the height difference, since it was so hard to ignore during a conversation with the man, but it was so much more interesting to see the both of you side by side. he looked like a giant standing next to your small frame.

his eyes met yours through the mirror, causing you to quickly look away. he only smiled at your response, waiting but a second more for the elevator to come to a stop at the correct floor. as the large doors slid open, he gestured for you to step out first. he wasn't worried about there being any trouble finding the library, as it was located directly across the hall. this in mind, he allowed you to lead the way, which you seemed more than happy to do.

he thought it was cute how your steps became so much lighter once the open doorway was in sight, how your eyes seemed to light up upon entering the large room. he watched as you stopped a few steps into the library, examining your features as you looked around. while he had been expecting a positive response, you surely didn't disappoint. your jaw was nearly on the floor as eyes the size of saucers scanned the maze of bookshelves.

just past the entrance was an area that resembled the common area; a large sofa sat opposite the door, which was paralleled by a coffee table of equal length. there was a chair positioned on either side, though the fourth side was left open. the furniture sat atop a beautiful floral rug, which distracted from the dull navy carpeting the rest of the room had been floored with. there were rows upon rows of shelves on the three sides in question, rows that seemed to go on for miles.

"a's start just to the right over there, i think," his voice rung in your ear, snapping you out of the book-induced trance you'd fallen into. he pointed in the general direction you needed to go, which was all the permission you needed to begin walking. you were too excited to respond, so you simply allowed him to follow your fast paced footsteps as you began searching for the book you wished to read.

you'd never seen so many books in your life, let alone all at once. your heart did jumping jacks in your chest at the realization that you could never possibly be bored here. maybe every storm cloud does have a silver lining. no matter how unhappy you might become in the future, you were certain that you would never run out of books to take your mind away from the world. you couldn't wait to get lost in each and every one.

"are you looking for anything specific?"

you could easily make out the curiosity woven into every word. his fancy shoes made a dull click clack noise against the thin carpet, the sound trailing behind you. it didn't sound like he was making an effort to match your swift pace, but then again, he didn't have to. his legs were so long, you knew he could easily match your fastest sprint with a brisk walk if he ever decided to try.

"no."

yes.

once you finally reached the aisle you were looking for, your eyes lit up. the section marked 's' was very large, but you were quick to find what you were looking for. given the letter combination, saint-exupéry happened to be toward the beginning of the section. however, it was out of your reach. even standing on the very tips of your toes, every book on the top shelf was just out of reach. sighing to yourself, you fell back on your heels.

"which one?" johnny asked, causing you to quickly turn your head.

you had been so lost in thought that the sound of his voice startled you, but his close proximity was even more surprising. there was maybe two inches between the both of you. his steady breaths felt warm against your neck even after you turned away. flustered, it took you a moment to respond. regardless of your feelings toward him, no man had ever been so close to you before; you weren't sure how to react.

"uh, it's on the top right there—the little prince," you answered finally. your voice came out a soft mumble.

he reached over your head and easily pulled your book away from the others. you assumed this was why he'd gotten so close, and you were correct. the moment he passed the book on to you was the moment he took two steps back. regardless, this did nothing to stifle the heat burning in your cheeks.

in an attempt to ignore it, you turned on your heels and began to make your way back to the lounge. he walked beside you now, most likely because he had a very good idea of where you were going. there was no reason to follow you around like a lost puppy otherwise.

"why that book?" he wondered aloud.

there was a part of his brain that worried that the question was a bit too personal, but he couldn't help himself. after watching you move through the library at such a fast pace, he had to ask. you were nearly jogging; that book had to be extremely significant to you for one reason or another. glancing down at you, he noticed that you couldn't take you eyes off of the cover.

"um..."

you allowed the sentence to fizzle out, unsure of how to begin, or if you even wanted to at all. having been pulled away from your past life, you hadn't decided whether you wanted to talk about it with anyone. you didn't have much of a story to tell, yet it still felt like something you should lock away entirely. though you didn't truly understand why, you dreaded the thought of letting anyone here get to know you. whether this was because they were undeserving or because acknowledging your past life made this one real, you didn't know.

weaving through the seemingly endless aisles, you allowed you gaze to fall upon the book again.

your brother was a bright young boy, almost too smart for his own good. he never tried to be a troublemaker—not the kind you felt the need to raise your guard around anyway—but he would risk anything to stimulate his mind. if he didn't have a book to stick his head into or a math subject to teach himself he fell into a painful state of boredom. he couldn't stand being bored; you remembered him declaring once before that not doing anything productive made him feel like his brain was rotting from the inside out.

"it's only a matter of time before it starts dripping out of my ears," he used to say.

to this day, you were able to recall in great detail the first time he got himself into trouble with your parents. he managed to drag you down with him without even trying to; your parents found you guilty before you even opened your mouth. all over a stupid book.

"it's not like he can even read it!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

while his intellect surpassed even the adults in your life, his age was really showing. just like any thirteen year old boy, he felt that your parents were just overreacting; that what he'd done surely didn't warrant this kind of response. after all, it wasn't like he'd truly hurt anyone. even if he really did want to, you knew he didn't have it in him. much like yours, his attacks were never physical, only verbal.

to an extent, you agreed with him. the law wasn't really enforced unless you had the money to make people care about your problems, so you doubted he would get into any real trouble. the most that could happen outside of the home would be some kind of beating from the people he'd stolen from, but you doubted they would even notice its absence. however, watching this situation unfold had begun to give you a headache and for that reason alone you felt he deserved to be punished. "you still stole it," your father shot back.

he stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest. your father was a short man, but he still managed to make himself look intimidating when he saw fit. his actions helped greatly; he had the tendency to raise his voice when things didn't go his way, or allow his eyes to narrow into a glare that would tear through anyone in his path. sometimes you hated him for being this way, but deep down you knew it wasn't his fault. working such long days with almost nothing in return was enough to drive any man crazy.

your mother though... you looked to your mother and saw nothing but disappointment painted across her face as she held the book in her hands. you frowned. for the first time in a very long time, you witnessed her express something other than exhaustion. she was so kind and caring, but she was empty. everyday was a constant fight to keep her family afloat through high tides and thunderstorms, but over the years the tiny raft she'd woven for those she loved most broke apart piece by piece. everyday you watched a tiny piece of her float far far away right along with it.

"how could you let this happen?"

you quickly averted your attention toward your father, your eyes widening as a wave of shock wracked your body. he glared down at you, but you didn't really understand why; you hadn't done anything wrong. and so you said nothing. instead, you nervously pulled at the hem of your shirt, wishing this would all go away. but this wasn't good enough. when you failed to respond, he only rose his voice even more. he pointed his finger at you accusingly, like you'd gone out and committed the crime yourself.

"you were supposed to be watching him! it's not like you have anything else to do. you don't work, can't go to school—what could you possibly have been doing that was more important than making sure your brother stayed safe at home?"

it was then that you began to cry. tears flowed down your cheeks in rivers as you tried so hard not to start hyperventilating. you never took criticism well—not when it was far from constructive. it felt like he had lunged at your throat and your windpipe was beginning to crack under the pressure. if he kept at it, you were certain you wouldn't be able to handle it at any capacity.

you refused to respond. what was the point in trying if your father wasn't even going to try to understand? how were you going to tell him that your idiot brother had managed to sneak out because you spent the day asleep on the cold, hard floor? how were you going to explain that you were so tired, that your body was so physically exhausted that there were periods of time where you were unable to stay awake during the day?

you couldn't, not when everyone else struggled just as hard as you did. you could already imagine his response, something about how he works himself to the bone and still manages to stay awake.

it was pointless.

you thought you were never going to be able to forgive your brother for that day. that night, when you were certain the rest of your family had fallen asleep, you picked the book up off of the floor where your mother had left it. it shouldn't be there; your brother shouldn't get the pleasure of reading it.

so you hid it. you remembered having to be so careful as you moved the heavy water pot, struggling to keep quiet as the lid began to gently crash into the rim. you then lifted up the broken floorboard beneath it and placed the book inside of the small opening before repositioning everything. that night, you laid next to your brother feeling content with your actions, yet no more happy overall.

for so many years, you avoided that book just as much as you did the negative memory associated with it, but after your family passed, something changed. it didn't feel like something you wanted to distance yourself from anymore, but rather something you wanted to hold close to your heart.

the first thing you did once the body collection team cleared your home was rush to the water pot. you were so hasty in trying to move it that it tipped over in the process, spilling what tiny bit of water was left all over your thighs. but holding that book in your hands, it didn't matter. there was a tiny piece of your brother you had yet to familiarize yourself with and you so desperately needed to. it felt like it was all you had left of him. for almost a month you read the book time and time again until the tears stopped; by then you had memorized the entire story word for word.

the little prince.

"someone that i used to know was really interested in it, that's all," you said finally.

you were too stuck inside your own head to notice how much time had passed, but by that point you'd reached the lounge already. the couch closest to you suddenly seemed very inviting, so much that you quickly sat down in the middle. your mind was still a bit too far away to realize what you'd done, but by that point it was too late.

johnny was left to seat himself on your right. much like before, this left very little space between the two of you. this got your attention immediately. your cheeks burned red hot as he rested his arm atop the edge of the couch behind you.

"would you mind if i read it?"

too stunned to form a proper sentence, you merely nodded and placed the book on his lap. when you took the quickest look up at him, you saw that he was smiling. it was a genuine smile, not one of those smug smirks you'd seen once or twice before. staring toward your lap now, you could see him using his free hand to quickly flip to page one.

oh. he was going to read it to you.

"you don't have to do all that," you quickly spoke up.

you did your best not to come across as rude. in reality though, you weren't sure whether or not you should've said anything at all. you had yet to decide if you were uncomfortable with someone like johnny making himself part of something so sacred, or if you were angry at yourself for letting his close proximity make you so flustered. no matter how much you tried though, you couldn't help it. it would've been this way with any boy, you told yourself, but the fact that it had to be him was so, so irritating.

the brunette scoffed lightly.

"you think i don't care enough to get to know you?" he quirked an eyebrow at you, only resulting in your gaze being averted elsewhere. a moment went by as he awaited a response that never came. "i don't want to be strangers; i want to know things about you. i think it's premature to say that things are most definitely going to be real between the two of us, but i would like to try, if you'd let me. at the very least i want to get to know you as a person. if this book is something you're into, i want to read it."

he watched as your eyes fell upon the open page. as hard as he tried, he couldn't make out the expression contorting your features. somewhere deep in his being he was hopeful you were considering what he said, though he knew not to get his hopes up. while he understood why you would do so, the idea of being wed to someone who refused to keep him any closer than arms length made him sad. while he despised it, it happened to be the normalcy and there was nothing he was able to do about it.

almost pleading with you, he quietly added, "for me? you can sleep for all i care; just entertain me for the rest of the hour, please."

very hesitantly, you nodded and allowed him to wrap his arm around your shoulders. he then pulled you close, causing your breath to catch in your throat for a moment. never before had you been held this way, nor had you witnessed your mother in such a position; this type of intimacy was something you'd only ever encountered in the few fairytales you'd been able to read in your youth.

as he began to read in that oh so soft tone, you found yourself lost in thought. the more you tried to think of an occurrence where this scenario had been normalized during your childhood, the less you were able to come up with. it would be humorous to call what you were required to have with johnny love, and yet it was likely the closest you would ever come to such a thing in your life time. marriage was more out of necessity than anything, you had come to realize--especially for women. each person was allowed to interpret societal norms however they so chose, though you felt that marriage offered women a degree of safety that living alone was unable to, while men were given sex and children in exchange. in all your years, you had yet to come across a couple that seemed to truly love one another beyond this platonic agreement.

having been a woman that had grown used to living alone, you understood the need for a man in the house. it wasn't that you were very strong on ancient gender roles, but that you had been forced to live with such extreme anxiety at all times. what few policemen there were didn't care about any crime that didn't have the potential to pad their pockets, so young women were often assaulted late at night on the lookout for whatever scraps of food they might be able to find and eat. even going out during the day made you nervous at times, depending on who was in sight. you'd even made a mental catalogue of which neighbors seemed especially sketchy and why, as you had learned not to trust anyone. living seemed to become extremely dangerous after your father passed away.

your eyes began to flutter closed as his low voice hung in your ear. being endlessly tired was not something that was new to you, for each and every day you felt as though you could sleep for hours and wake up feeling like your limbs were packed full of sand. the man beside you wasn't helping either; the steady sound of his heartbeat was the perfect backdrop to your thoughts. perhaps he noticed, though you couldn't be bothered to open your eyes in order to check. instead, you allowed him to slowly brush his palm over your head, almost as if he was petting you. it was endearing in a way, though you would never say so out loud.

counting down the days, you realized there weren't too many left until the wedding to come. jisung had brought it up earlier, but the subject matter made you uneasy, so you did your best to tune it out, just as you did the rest of his blather. normally you soak up information like a sponge, but the young boy had begun to babble about who all he thought was attending, which wasn't something you cared to know. the thought of being trapped in a room with at least half of the world's most wealthy made a knot tie itself oh so tight within your stomach. not because you felt the need to impress any of these people, but because you had spent your entire life drowning in poverty while these people had very little to worry about. your main concern was finding a way to keep from choking one of them to death on your way down the aisle.

on top of that, it sounded as if the majority of the relatives that were to be in attendance didn't like the idea of your marriage in general. jisung had recalled chatting with a young servant named yeri over lunch, who apparently dealt with all of the invitations. he relayed that she was tasked with calling each household personally, so she was able to get a feel of how they had received the news. as he ran the brush through your wild locks, he snickered and told you not to worry about johnny's family, as she told him that over half of those she spoke with sounded very irritated.

"i think it's about the money, honestly," he'd laughed. his slender fingers then wove themselves through your hair, parting it in three at the nape of your neck. "that's really weird to think about, isn't it? maybe i've just been poor for so long that money doesn't really seem like something to pine over, but i think it's kind of ridiculous when people that have more money than i'll ever know what to do with are so upset that they're not able to come into more of it.'

in a way, you thought the boy was right. while you felt that greed was almost amusing coming from those who already have a great deal of money, you understood the need to pine over it. you couldn't even count the amount of times you had gone to bed hungry, as well as had to function starving the next day. even just a few dollars would've been able to keep you fed, even if only for the smallest period of time. maybe the issue wasn't that jisung had been poor for so long, but that he had all of his needs met for such a long while. in all honesty, you understood the want to fight tooth and nail for every dollar that came your way, as much as it pained you to admit.

suddenly, you felt johnny's chest move beneath you, quickly rising and falling as a gentle chuckle escaped his lips. even still, you pretended to be asleep.

"what's wrong?" he questioned, nudging you slightly. "you're gonna give yourself wrinkles or something."

you swore under your breathe. your features relaxed then. every crease in your forehead slowly evened out, then the rest of your face fell in line too. it wasn't something that you'd done consciously, though you did understand why he would question such a thing. you weren't entirely sure what it must've looked like, but judging from his reaction, you were likely pouting like a child.

"how long until we have to get married?" you asked, peeling both of your eyes open.

"two days," he responded simply.

looking at the book in his lap, you noticed that he had gotten through a handful of pages. telling time had never been something you were very good at, but you guessed it had been at least ten or fifteen minutes since he had began. that was the beauty of being lost inside your head, you thought. you were free from the confinement of time, as it mattered very little when you had other things popping out of every little nook and cranny your brain had to offer. there was always something new to dissect and pick apart without having to worry about how much time you were wasting. it was nice, especially when wasting your time with him meant he was unable to bother you for very long.

instead of awaiting a response he knew would never come, he simply joked, "why, are you excited?"

"i'm thinking," you said, turning to look up at him.

you weren't sure if you wanted to continue. you weren't sure if you wanted to let him in, to let him know what was on your mind. there was a lot on your mind. the thought of being kept here forever with no one to talk to on a deeper level than the gossip jisung liked to bring to your vanity made you sad, though it wasn't like you were having very deep conversations with the kindergarteners you taught back home. however, the brunette's actions irritated you to no end. you were afraid that letting him in would mean to let go of what he had done, which wasn't something that you were ready to do yet. you weren't sure it would ever be something you were going to do.

the hardest part to grasp was that jisung had been right; as much as you wanted to hate the man for his means of getting you there, you would never be able to hate him for putting clothes on your body and food in your mouth. thinking back to the large breakfast you had woken up to that morning, you frowned. you tried and tried, but you couldn't be upset about that. sighing to yourself, you finally came to terms with the fact that finding comfort in another person wouldn't be so terrible, since you were unable to go anywhere else. it was a given that you would be exceptionally picky with what information you felt he was worthy of having access to, but baby steps wouldn't hurt.

however, you really did like his nervousness, at least in the sense that he knew better than to pry. he waited silently for you to continue, still absentmindedly petting the top of your head. he had been timid about such an action at first, but once he realized you weren't going to bite his hand off, he became more confident about continuing. he had a very soft smile tugging at his plump lips, though you could see the angst hiding in those chocolate brown eyes. it was as if he wasn't sure of what you were going to say, like that scared him.

truthfully, it did. johnny's biggest fear was that you would never get over any kind of resentment toward him you may have. this was a feeling he understood, and he very much understood why you would be feeling this way toward him, but he at least hoped the both of you would be able to find some kind of middle ground. he was just as fond of the arrangement as you were; maybe even more so, since he had grown up watching it play out before his eyes.

his mother never really did overcome her hatred for his father. perhaps this was because times were different when she was younger. she had the pleasure of experiencing life before the war; she knew freedom without having poverty cripple the entirety of her family. even in the midst of the violence and war, she still found a way to be happy without having to rely on money to do so. because of this, being pulled away from her parents crushed her. she wasn't like you; she didn't find comfort in a full belly, nor did she see it as a reason to excuse what had happened to her. she loved her son very much, though she never even made an attempt to hide the fact that she cared for her husband very little. in fact, johnny often suspected that she only agreed to have a child as a form of escapism. he always wondered if that was why she insisted on spending all of her free time with him, even while he was being pestered by countless tutors.

maybe it was selfish to wish for you to get over a traumatic experience in order to be happy with him, but he didn't know any other way of living. what he wanted more than anything was for you to be happy, though he didn't think this was something he would be able to communicate correctly without making a pig of himself. he understood the severity of the culture difference between the both of you and didn't want to come across as arrogant, especially because he knew that he was. he didn't intend to be, but he wasn't naïve.

"i want to hate you so badly," you admitted finally. for once, you locked eyes with him. you wanted him to see you, to know that you weren't exaggerating in order to toy with his nerves. perhaps you didn't know the first thing about talking to boys, but you knew a great deal about communicating your feelings to the emotionally ignorant. you often had conversations of this nature with you brother when he grew old enough, as you found that talking took far less energy than fighting did. the man stopped petting you then, his hand simply resting at the nape of your neck. you rolled your eyes, watching him squirm a little in his seat. "you can keep doing that thing if you want, it doesn't really bother me one way or another. even if it did, i think i could punch you in the face and you probably wouldn't do anything violent to retaliate; i probably would've done that by now."

he wanted to argue, but he knew he couldn't. you were right. even if he hated you with every fiber of his being, he could never bring himself to raise a hand to a woman. just the mere thought of what he had to do to you already made him sick to his stomach. instead, he simply began his hand motions once more.

"i want to hate you so badly," you repeated, huffing a bit. your eyes drifted off, directing your glare at whichever bookshelf you spotted first. "i've been thinking about it a lot and i don't think you have any idea how much it hurts that for the life of me i haven't been able to find a way to make you into more than just a minor annoyance. i'm irritated at the circumstances of our meeting, but the more i think about it, the less i'm able to find you terrible. you should repulse me, but really, what did i have waiting for me back home? loneliness and starvation? i try to remember that i was making something of myself by educating children that weren't able to bathe most days, let alone pick up a book on their own, but it seems a little bittersweet when the skeleton i see in the mirror is all i have to show for it. i want to hate your guts for what you did, but how can i when you've given me everything i never had?"

this time, he pulled away completely. he recognized your hurt, yet he was unsure about what to do in response. he knew that honesty was in order, but these were not the kinds of conversations he was accustomed to. johnny was taught to suppress his feelings as opposed to expressing them, as his father thought that to share one's inner feelings was a very feminine thing to do. even i love you's were assumed and not spoken. an attempt was made in explaining his point of view on your journey to his home, but even then, he had barely scratched the surface of what was buried deep in his heart.

"i'm sorry for that," he began, his features slowly contorting with the first wave of distress that wracked his brain. "i'm not really sure what to say aside from that. i understand that you're upset and i understand why, honestly. i figured you would be, which i guess is why i've been trying to overcompensate with material items. i don't know if that makes me even more of a shitty person, but i figured that the least i can do is make sure you have what you need... i'm not going to sit here and pretend like i'm your savior for doing that, nor am i going to force you to like me. do i want you to? of course i do. i hope we can be friends at the very least, but i'm always going to respect your wants and-"

"don't you have a job to be getting back to?"

you wanted to scream. he was making it so hard by being a decent person, so much that you had half a mind to punch him square in the nose. you knew it was terrible to wish he were a worse person, but it would make your frustration so much more valid. it was very clear that his intention wasn't to confuse you even further, but that was the result regardless. you weren't sure where you stood, only that the ground you wished to be upon was very far out of reach.

he shook his head, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. while he was sure your irritation was very genuine, he was relieved to see that it wasn't likely to grow into something more. the last thing he wanted to do was dig himself a deeper hole to fall into.

"i don't have to do anything; it's more that i choose to get up and go to work everyday. if i really wanted to, i could easily appoint someone to take on my workload without losing any personal profit," he explained, closing the book in his lap and placing it on the coffee table. not only did he want to cut your date short before your annoyance really began to blossom, he could see how tired you'd become. keeping this in mind, he was slow to stand up and extend a hand toward you. there was a fleeting look of hesitance that washed over the irises of your eyes, but you took it nonetheless. while helping you to your feet, he continued. "i like my job--the techy stuff, anyway. having to be the bad guy all the time is honestly really stressful, but i guess that's just part of the package, right?"

though it felt like the question was directed more toward himself than anything, you took it upon yourself to answer anyway. your hand still resting in his, you allowed him to guide you back to the elevator.

"not necessarily," you responded, watching as he swiped his keycard once more. following him into the elevator, you took a few seconds to piece together the rest of your thoughts. it wasn't very easy given how little you knew about what it was he did at work, but you felt that his mindset was very flawed regardless of his job title. "if you're really as in charge as you claim to be, i don't understand why it has to be so terrible for the people that work for you, if that's what you're trying to say."

"you don't get it," he muttered softly.

he used his index finger to press another one of the shiny metal buttons on the panel before him. while doing so, he did his best to avoid your gaze. he didn't even want to think about how he must've sounded complaining about such problems, as they seemed so silly in retrospect. he felt so guilty complaining about the way he happened to make his money knowing you came from the situation you did. in a way, he felt like he had slapped you across the face, though he would never even dream of doing such a thing.

"no, i don't," you quipped. your voice was very level, yet you couldn't help but let go of his hand. it seemed like he wasn't really in the mood to hold yours any more than you were his. "i don't know anything about science, or engineering, or even how to count without using my fingers, but i know what it's like to be poor. my father worked for someone like you. one days worth of your earnings could probably feed a family like mine for at least a week, but instead big companies throw pennies at their workers and demand that we make it stretch far enough. maybe other decisions wouldn't feel so weighted if you knew your employees were going home to more than scraps from the garbage, but you're choosing not to find that out."

johnny remained silent. there was nothing he could say to refute your argument; you were right. this was an issue that was far easier to avoid before your arrival, especially now that you were choosing to voice your concerns. the money his business produced made it very easy to ignore the conditions certain staff members were likely living in. in all honesty, he'd never even given it much thought. his father had always preached that they were not responsible for anything that went on outside of the workplace, though he was neglecting to take into account that the things they provided during work hours directly contributed to everything that took place before and after. he felt ashamed now, having this thrown back in his face.

"you're right. i'm sorry."

the elevator opened up after what felt like forever, much to your relief. after taking two steps forward, it felt like the man had wrapped his hands around both of your ankles and dragged you back ten. you were well aware that the difference in upbringings might make conversation a bit difficult at times, but you weren't expecting him to be so ignorant to the state of the world beyond the little bubble he existed in. all it served to do was dull what little sparkle had managed to find you today.

"i think i remember how to get back to my room from here," you promptly informed him.

"you're sure?" he asked softly, to which you merely nodded.

you didn't know if there was really anything left to say. you were far too exhausted to entertain him any longer; all you wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep until you no longer felt the tiny pinprick of sadness in your chest. 

perhaps tomorrow he would manage to redeem himself, you told yourself. after all, he'd already made it very clear that he had more than enough money to do so.

author’s note: i’m so sorry this took so long ): i’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately, but i’m going to do my best to be more consistent with my uploads. please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist (:

[pollenat]

“Changing lanes” | chs.

➛ SEVENTEEN’s Vernon. Angst. This is meant to hurt. Drake’s “Passionfruit” was a huge inspiration for the setting of this short.

➛ Word count: 1448.

The redness of streetlights. It bounces off of the front window and peeks inside. Josh’s face is sunken in it. Shadows twist and pull at his face, barely keeping up with his movement. Stark red doesn’t match his smile while laughing. Together, they’re sinister. Together, they’re pointing at a person in the passenger’s seat, a person you’d rather forget all about. But well, you’re unable to.

The familiar smell reaches behind. It’s like nightmarish serpents, crawling inside every single one of your head’s openings to take over. You can’t hear, taste or smell anything other than the serpents’ guardian. For some reason, only your eyes are strong enough to choose their direction. Maybe because Vernon is hidden behind the seat, and though you catch a few moments his body appears in your vision, you can’t really see him.

Josh shifts gears. The light has changed to green, unnoticed. A car speeds past yours, the passing moment of loud music scaring you away from the cold window.

“Shit. Fucker-” Vernon laughs at Josh’s curse words, but without strength to his voice.

He’s in the front, so he doesn’t have to see you; so, along with the lack of your voice, he may forget you’re in the car at all.

You think that when he looks at you, he sees a weed. Something unpretty, something for just a sliding glance, not a proper stare. Something not worth of too much attention, so he can tune your words out when listening isn’t necessary. Something he laughs at or with, but more out of obligation than pure feelings. Something that he doesn’t need, but has to coexist with. It hurts, knowing that you’re just something. Not even Something or SOMETHING. You’re just being, but there’s nothing more to you for Vernon.

A nuisance to his good conscience is what you are. How selfish of you to ever dare a thought that, perhaps, he may look at you and see as much as you do in him. That he may feel serpents crawling inside his own head when you’re no gorgon like him - you can’t freeze him in place with a glance.

The car repeatedly changes lanes, Josh’s doing his best to liven the party up by zigzagging on the empty street. He looks behind, but you turn away to look at houses hidden behind streetlights. Vernon’s house is close. You’re eager to exit his personal space, though you know you will feel the opposite as soon as he disappears.

Rumbling engine has you wondering whether there’s a way to change things. To prove yourself a hero everybody lusts after. The main character of a story where you win the heart of your beloved. But of course, there’s none. You’re no protagonist. You’re the background. A story nobody brings up, because it’s a sad one.

Joshua nods his head along to a quiet beat from his broken radio. It’s been a while since it first started hissing, but being a young adult means learning to live with inconvenience, and so he has never repaired it.

The car stops behind another one you recognize to be Vernon’s parents’. You’ve reached the primary destination. Hands clap and grasp each other in front of you. The tip of Vernon’s nose peeks from behind the seat.

“See you soon, dude.” Josh tells him. Vernon mumbles something back. “(y/n), come on to the front. I’m not your taxi driver!”

It’s a reminder. Vernon freezes for a moment, suddenly realizing there’s someone else. You’re given a quick bye, a true sign of pretense you want to spit on from despise.

Both of you scramble out of the car, quick to pass the other one. The entire time you’re looking down, at the pavement. Vernon’s trainers come into your view. There’s a patch of dirt on the rubber tip you don’t comment. Not even a bye back, you fall on his seat, sighing. Josh waves at Vernon, but the man doesn’t see it. Having you out of sight means having you out of mind. You’re a weed he needs to pull out, but struggles with, so he gives up.

Radio speaker says something. You’re watching the silhouette distancing itself from you. Vernon’s steps towards house seem hurried, but his slouched back and hands hidden in pockets are meant to make you believe otherwise. For a moment he stops to pull keys out.

“So,” Josh’s voice pushes you out of your brain. Vernon’s back disappears in the darkness of his house. The front door closes. “what happened between you and Vernon?”

The car starts. Josh doesn’t look at you, busy checking the road for other vehicles. The gear shifts and you wish you were the first one for the drop-off. 

“Nothing?” Surprised huff of humor speaks volumes, though you said just a word.

He doesn’t look at you and, for some reason, you’re even more scared of admitting the truth. As long as Josh doesn’t know of your humiliation, you can pretend there’s no reason for it. As long as he doesn’t see the terror on your face, he isn’t aware of the expanse of your personal tortures.

“Yeah, right.”

Coincidentally, he turns right, instead of left, towards your neighborhood. It’s enough to let you know - the guy wants answers. If he gets answers, he’ll feel pity and the possibility of being its object is even worse. You don’t want this heart-wrenching show to go on. When will the credits roll? The darkness outside surely calls for them.

“You stayed silent and thought I wouldn’t notice...”

The car doesn’t speed. Josh is collecting his thoughts, forming a monologue to coax you out of shell. It’s not an if question, rather when. With guilt clawing its way up your throat, you’re sure the breaking point is close, no matter how much you want to stop it from happening. Possible words of refutal fly around your head. Which one shall you use today?

It goes on for a few minutes. There’s no point in going much farther. Josh parks the car by a sidewalk. You don’t know anyone from the street he chose, but it doesn’t matter.

“Listen, I know there’s something more to that silence. Vernon - he won’t talk. I know. He’d tell me already. But you-” His index finger points at you from the steering wheel. “You need some talking to. You’re not as stubborn as him. Not with me.” He doesn’t speak more for a moment, clearly waiting an answer. “We’re friends. I won’t judge you. It’s- I can see you’re struggling with something and I think a talk with a friend could help.”

You’re too taken by his monologue and the bubbling feelings inside of you, to pay attention to flies under the nearby streetlight. Radio hisses quietly, more to itself than to bother others. For a moment you miss its speaker’s words. They could work as an anchor, a phenomenon you could focus on to keep your head away from Joshua and Vernon.

“I’m not driving you home until you tell me.” He leans more against the seat. “Otherwise you will torture yourself into a bad state. So don’t be mad at me. I’m just trying to be a good friend.”

Friend would take a step back and let you do your thing, or so you hope. But he’s not wrong. You will most likely do that - stay in your house moping around, avoiding everyone and missing Vernon like crazy. It’s sad that he won’t miss you back. He’ll be thankful you’re no longer bothering him.

“Did you... beef?”

“Beef?” Somehow amused by the thought you could not agree with Vernon on something, you look at Joshua. He’s already staring back, studying your features.

“I don’t know what else could be the case, other than-” Josh cuts off, aware you understand his course.

You forget yourself and drop your head. It’s a sign your companion instantly gets. You can feel a headache coming.

“Oh, so it is?” Josh doesn’t sound surprised. “You told him, didn’t you? I guess it makes sense-” It does, because Vernon could never like you back, right?

Silence fills the car. It’s heavy like smoke, making you open the window, to allow noise inside. Buzzing of AC, screeching of some bird, humming of life. They’re all much better than Josh’s silence. Nice to listen to. Silence, no matter where it comes from, reminds you of Vernon, seeing his features peeking from behind the seat, the dirt on his shoe as you were passing him by the car. You decide to hate the silence from now on, because you can’t hate Vernon.

“I’m sorry.” Truthfully, pity is even worse than silence.

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[tchallasbabymama]

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 10 (Finale)

Thanks for bearing with me on this journey, it’s been a good one. Here’s the last chapter, I hope y’all like it! Normally I would post on M’Baku Mondays, but I just couldn’t wait to share this ending with the like 5 people who read my stories. 

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist HERE to read my other stories. M’Baku fans, don’t fret, I have another M’Baku fic starting next week...well its an M’Baku x OC x T’Challa fic. That’s right, we’re going for a throuple. Check out the preview HERE. As always, let me know what y’all think and if you want to be tagged in any of my other stories.

CW: smut

Word count: 10,630

Monae fiddled with JJ’s collar as they stood on the tarmac waiting for the Talon to touch down. He loved seeing Uncle Challa’s “spaceship” and they regularly got to see him off and welcome him back. This time would be a little different though since he would be bringing M’Baku to meet his son for the first time. Monae’s nerves were shot and she vibrated with anticipation.

As the ship came into view a lump caught in Monae’s throat. She was about to see him again for the first time in years...he was about to meet their son. She could still barely process the fact that he was alive and almost needed to see it to believe it, but he was just a few moments away.

The Talon floated closer and closer to the ground and her palms grew sweaty when it finally made contact. 

JJ jumped up and down as the doors opened and he saw Okoye and Ayo exit the craft. He immediately went to go hug his aunties as he waited for his favorite uncle to come out. Pretty soon he emerged, alone, and JJ ran to him and jumped in his arms.

“Uncle Challa!”

“Igorila encinci, I’ve missed you! Are you being good for your mama?”

“Yes!” T’Challa raised an eyebrow and looked back to Monae who was steadily creeping closer. She nodded with a smile and T’Challa started tickling JJ, making him let loose the boisterous laugh he no doubt got from his father. 

Monae’s eyes travelled to the open door behind T’Challa and he noticed, giving her a soft smile. “He needs a minute.”

She nodded and looked down, twiddling her thumbs when JJ’s voice brought her out of her daze.

“Uncle Challa, who’s that?” he looked over the king’s shoulder and saw a large man hesitantly stepping through the Talon door and into the light. T’Challa set JJ down and turned to look at Monae, but her eyes were already raining tears down her face.

“That is my friend, M’Baku. Why don’t you say hi?”

M’Baku walked down the ramp and met the king on the ground, unable to take his eyes off the little boy in front of him. He looked just like a miniature version of him with a head full of locs. The pictures didn’t do him justice. 

JJ waved at the stranger and introduced himself, “Hi! I’m Jabari, but everyone calls me JJ. What’s your name?”

M’Baku’s eyes grew misty as his child smiled up at him. He cleared his throat and got down on one knee so he could be eye-level with JJ.

“My name is M’Baku, and I am-” he cut himself off, as he looked up and made eye contact with a crying Monae behind T’Challa. The king moved out of the way and gave the little family some privacy, joining his Dora near the car and trying not to be nosy and watch too intently. Monae took a step forward and that was all the permission he needed. He stood from the ground, and just as he did she threw her arms around him, crying into his chest. His head rested on top of hers as he cried and rocked her from side to side. 

“Mommy? What’s wrong?” M’Baku wiped Monae’s tears before she turned to their son and squatted down to his height.

“JJ, baby...remember how mommy told you your daddy died before you were born?”

He nodded his head silently with his brows furrowed.

“Well I was wrong...and Uncle Challa was nice enough to bring him here to us,” she looked to M’Baku and smiled, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his son. 

“You’re my dad?”

“Yes, you can call me ‘baba’ if you like.”

“Baba? What’s that mean?”

“It means ‘father’ in my language.”

“What language is that?”

“Xhosa.”

“Oh, like Umalume Challa.”

M’Baku smiled up at Monae, “He knows Xhosa?”

“T’Challa taught him some, he’s pretty good. He’s even teaching me a little bit.”

“Yeah, she’s a fast learner like me!”

“That’s right,” she tickled his sides and his infectious laughter rang out again, the most beautiful song M’Baku had ever heard. When he came down from his tickle high his eyes settled back on M’Baku.

“So if you weren’t dead where were you?”

“I do not know…”

“Baby, you remember the other day when people started appearing out of nowhere?” he nodded again, “That’s what happened to your baba.” 

He still didn’t really understand just what actually happened with those people, but knowing his baba had been one of them and wasn’t dead or just gone for no reason eased his mind. 

Both adults stood and Monae grabbed JJ’s hand as they walked back towards T’Challa, who was trying really hard to not seem like he was eavesdropping. JJ reached up and grabbed M’Baku’s hand and all the adults present struggled to keep their composure.

--------

 Every time the Wakandans came to town, they stopped by Monae’s house for dinner at least once, so the group split in two as they got in their cars to drive to Monae’s. Monae could hardly speak, so she was thankful that JJ was full of questions on the ride home.

“So do I have grandparents?”

“Yes, and my mama would love to meet you.”

“How is Ada?”

“Shaken up...she was also one of the Dusted.”

“The Dusted?” JJ asked.

“Yes, that is what we Jabari call the people who disappeared and reappeared.”

“I thought your name was M’Baku, not Jabari.”

M’Baku chuckled.

“It is, but I come from the Jabari people. In fact, I am the-”

Monae cleared her throat and subtly shook her head.

“-I am...excited for you to meet them.”

“What are they like?”

M’Baku and JJ went back and forth the entire ride home as Monae drove in a daze, her brain still trying to process being so close to M’Baku again. The drive only took about ten minutes and as they pulled up to the house M’Baku’s eyes scanned the neighborhood, taking it all in. He saw the colonizers walking their dogs by the old drunks outside the corner store, and he noticed the expensive cookie cutter townhouses right next to the smaller, old homes that had been there for decades. This was definitely not the Nashville Monae had told him about.

M’Baku couldn't help but smile as they walked into her house and he felt the same warmth and openness he felt in her apartment all those years ago. Monae headed straight for the kitchen to check on the vegetable gumbo she had going in the slow cooker all day while JJ pulled M’Baku into the living room with everyone else. Monae watched with a smile as JJ talked his baba’s ear off and showed him around, pointing out the pictures on the wall. M’Baku’s eyes wandered over the photos, but he was distracted by a loud “meow” and a paw on his pants leg.

“Juju, old friend.” He reached down to pet her and she moved away from his hand, choosing instead to go back the way she came.

“Don’t be sad, she does that sometimes,” JJ comforted his dad, whose jaw was hanging open in disbelief until he heard the tinkling of a bell. Sure enough, Juju trotted back in and dropped her favorite feather toy at M’Baku’s feet. “Hey, she likes you!”

The three of them played together for a couple minutes, all the while M’Baku kept an eye on Monae slowly pacing back and forth in the kitchen. JJ chased Juju off through the house and M’Baku took the moment to try to talk to Monae while everyone was preoccupied setting the table and securing the perimeter of the house. 

Monae stirred the gumbo and tried her best to calm her nerves, but the butterflies in her stomach weren’t going away any time soon. They weren’t helped by the heat that crept up against her back as a large shadow loomed over her. She turned around to face him and he tipped her chin up.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“I...um, it’s already done.”

“You are nervous...why?”

“M’Baku,” she sighed, “I need you to understand that you died, or I thought you were dead. I mourned you. I buried you in my mind and visit on your deathiversary every year...but you crawled back out of that grave and it’s just hard for me to wrap my mind around.”

He nodded and placed a kiss on her forehead before moving back and giving her space. Monae cleared her throat and shook herself from her daze. She needed to get a handle on herself and fast.

“JJ, come wash your hands.”

The little boy came sprinting from the back room.

“No running inside,” Monae and T’Challa echoed each other and JJ slowed down, sheepishly walking the rest of the way to the stepstool at the kitchen sink. M’Baku helped him wash his hands as Monae filled their bowls with rice and gumbo. She grabbed a bottle of hot sauce from the counter and placed it in the middle of the table before sitting down at the head. 

“So, T, how’s Nakia?”

“She’s doing well. This pregnancy has been much easier on her than the first. In fact, she and the twins will be coming back with me next time.”

“Really?!” JJ was excited to see his play cousins, it had been months since the last time Hasina and Hasani visited. They were only a few months older than him, and the three of them were inseparable whenever they got together.

M’Baku sat back and watched their interactions, feeling slightly left out. He had missed so much of their lives. What was her pregnancy like? What were his first words? He just had to know. Right as he worked up the nerve to interrupt the ongoing conversation, JJ did it for him.

“Baba?” 

M’Baku was still so unused to hearing that name, however he already loved how it sounded. 

“Yes, JJ?”

“So what did it feel like when you got Dusted?”

Monae almost choked on her gumbo.

“JJ, let’s not-”

“I did not even know I had gone anywhere...it felt like no time had passed.”

“So you...you really think it’s been two months since we last saw each other?” Monae asked him.

“Yes, although I know now that is not the case,” he smiled at JJ who gave him a snaggletoothed smile right back. He turned to T’Challa, his face turning serious. “Thank you for looking after them, brother.”

“Any time, they are family. Isn’t that right igorila encinci?”

“Yes!”

Monae chuckled as she got up to bring out his favorite pineapple upside down cake she made late the night before. She disappeared into the kitchen as the others continued to talk amongst themselves.

“You call him ‘little gorilla’, eh?”

“Well yes, he is your son.”

“Do they call you the ‘Big Gorilla’ or something?”

“No, I am the Great Gorilla, ruler of the Jabari-”

“You’re a king, too?!”

“What?!” Monae yelled from the kitchen.

Okoye, Ayo, and T’Challa all made eye contact and decided it was a good time to leave.

“Well, we do not want to intrude so we will see you tomorrow,” Okoye rushed out.

“Monae, do you need any help cleaning up or anything before we leave?” Ayo added. 

“No thank you. Y’all get to the hotel safe, see you tomorrow.” She and JJ hugged the three of them and they took their leave. As soon as Monae closed the door behind them, JJ went right back to the previous conversation.

“So if you’re a king, that makes me a prince!”

“JJ, go upstairs and start getting ready for bed, I’ll be up soon.”

He sighed, but did what his mom told him, but before he made it all the way up the stairs he turned around and asked, “Is baba staying?”

Monae turned to look at M’Baku questioningly.

“If your mother will have me.”

“Please mommy!”

“No need for all that, I want him to stay too,” she laughed as her son ran back down the stairs to hug them both before going up to his room.

“So you want me to stay?”

Monae rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t have told him he’s a prince, M’Baku.”

“Why not? He is a prince, he should know.”

The two of them cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher as they went back and forth.

“He’s too young, that’s why. I want him to have a normal life.”

“He is not a ‘normal’ boy, Monae, he is royalty. He is my heir.”

She knew he was right, but she just didn’t want to let go of the life she and JJ had that she knew now was about to  be turned on its head. She didn’t want to have the conversation that she knew they needed to have.

“Let’s put JJ to bed and then come back to this.”

M’Baku agreed and the two of them went upstairs to do just that. After JJ’s bath, M’Baku told him the story of how the Jabari found the mountains, and he was hanging on every word until sleep overtook him and he passed out around 8:30. 

Monae was almost moved to tears by their interaction, and she kept from sniffling as both adults crept out the room and back downstairs. She went straight to the wine rack and cracked open a merlot, pouring two generous glasses for the two of them. He grabbed her hand and led her to the couch, sitting down next to her and pulling her legs across his lap. She didn’t know what to do, her mind still hadn’t caught up with her body yet, but her body melted right into him.

“I know it has not been as long for me as it has for you...but I have missed you, Babygirl.”

M’Baku heard a sniffle and looked down at her as her body shook and tears escaped her eyes. He grabbed the wine glass from her and set both glasses on the coffee table in front of them before placing his arm around her and pulling her in tight. 

The next hour or so consisted of M’Baku consoling Monae as she released five years of grief she had been holding onto. After a while, she calmed down and they sat in silence before she tore herself away from his lap and took a deep breath. She looked into his eyes and he moved in for a kiss, but she pulled away at the last second. 

“So what now?” She asked and his eyebrows furrowed as she spoke. 

“What do you mean?”

“JJ...since he’s a prince and all.”

M’Baku took a sip of his previously untouched wine, prompting Monae to do the same. 

“He will need to come be with his people, Monae.”

“He has people here too, M’Baku. He has friends and a community here.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Coparenting.”

“Coparenting?”

“Yes. I don’t want him to lose his home here or keep him from his home there...so lets let him have both.”

“I do not want you two halfway around the world-”

“And I don’t want him so far away from me, but parenthood involves sacrifice. Welcome to the club.”

“Then come with him.”

--------

“She is being unreasonable!” M’Baku sat on the couch in T’Challa’s office, complaining to the king and queen. He had stayed with Monae for only a weekend since he needed to get back to ruling his kingdom that was still restructuring after the return of the Dusted, but in that short time he was unable to convince her to let JJ live with his people. 

“I think she was being more than generous. I don’t even like when T’Challa takes the twins with him to America without me , I can’t imagine being without them for any longer than that.”

“Yes, but she could just move here! And at first she said we would split our time 50/50, now she wants to keep him during the school year and I get summers.”

“You’d prefer to disrupt the boy’s education?” the king chimed in.

“Oh please, we both know he would have a much better education here anyway.”

“True, but you’re asking Monae to uproot her whole life,” T’Challa added.

“M’Baku, you need to look at this like a parent, not like a chief. He’s just a little boy, he’s her little boy-”

“Our little boy.”

“For like five minutes. She’s been there for five years. She’s kissed his wounds and weathered temper tantrums. She pushed that boy out in the middle of her living room, she caught her own baby despite the fact that the midwife was right there. It’s just been the two of them since her aunt died...you can’t just expect her to give in so easily. You’re asking a lot of her.”

“Maybe if they both came to visit it would ease her mind a little,” T’Challa suggested.

“Could the two of you try to talk to her?”

“Absolutely not,” Nakia said as T’Challa shook his head.

“This is between the two of you, my friend.”

“Uncle Challa and Aunt Kiki are sitting this one out, sorry.” Nakia’s hands raised in surrender.

“Aunt Kiki?”

“I couldn’t let him be the only one with a nickname.”

M’Baku nodded as he mulled over their conversation in his head. He felt they were probably right, but he needed one more opinion.

When M’Baku made it back to Jabari land he went straight to his mother’s quarters to seek her advice. He found her in the middle of braiding her hair, and sat across from her as she worked.

“So how is my grandson? Did you bring me pictures?”

“Of course, mama,” he pulled up pictures of JJ on his beads, swiping through and smiling like a fool as he looked at his son. “He is well. He is so inquisitive and joyous...Monae has done a good job on her own.”

“Of course she has, I always liked that one.”

“I know,” M’Baku chuckled before his face fell.

“What is it?”

“It is Monae...she wants to coparent. She would have him during the school year and I would have him during their summer break.”

“That sounds pretty good to me.”

M’Baku sighed and hung his head.

“That is what the queen said.”

“Smart woman, our queen.”

“That she is...mama, I do not want to be apart from him so much, but Monae refuses to move here. I do not know what to do.”

“It sounds to me like you will be making a lot more trips to America then. She never said you could not see him, just that he stays in America with her. That does not have to exclude you.”

“I have duties here-”

“M’Baku we were gone for five years and the council ran things just fine, and before that you were gone for three months. I am not saying you should move there, just that your job is much more flexible than you realize.” 

Meanwhile, on the other side of Wakanda, the king decided to go back on his word just a little and texted Monae and asked her to call him when she had the chance. Later that night, his phone rang and he looked to see it was Monae calling. He checked to make sure he was alone in his quarters before answering. Thankfully, Nakia was down the hall putting the twins to bed while he worked on some last minute paperwork, or she’d have his head for this.

“Monae, I’m glad you called. How are you today?”

“I’d be much better if the city wasn’t breathing down our necks about this block party.”

“I’ll handle them, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks T.”

“No problem.”

“So what’s up? It sounded important.”

“Yes, well, it is. I spent the earlier half of today listening to a certain chief bemoan his new custody arrangement.”

“You can’t talk me out of it. I don’t even want him gone during the summer, that was hard enough.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I would dare, however, to formally invite you to Wakanda. Come see it for yourself for a couple weeks, you might like it. If nothing else, it will ease your mind for when Jabari comes here by himself.”

“Me...come to Wakanda? What about my job?”

“Don’t worry about that, just worry about when you want to leave. We can have a jet there immediately if you wish.”

“Jazz is moving in on Saturday, how about next weekend?”

“Next weekend it is.”

“Can we keep this between us? I want to surprise him.”

T’Challa chuckled just as Nakia walked in the room, “It won’t be easy to keep from him.”

“Try your best.” She knew there was a good chance T’Challa would let it slip to M’Baku. Everyone knew the king was notoriously bad at keeping secrets.

He looked up and saw Nakia standing in front of him with her eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip, her belly protruding in her nightgown. He mouthed “Monae” and pointed to his phone. 

“You just couldn't help but meddle, eh?” She rolled her eyes.

“Is that Nakia? Hey Kiki girl, I miss you!” T’Challa moved the phone away from his ear before she blew his eardrums out. 

“Hey Nae! Is my husband meddling in your business?”

“Only a little, but it’s good. Thanks to him, I’ll be seeing you soon.”

“You're coming to Wakanda?! Oh thank Bast, now I don’t have to hear M’Baku-”

“It’s just for a couple weeks, sis,” Monae chuckled as Nakia deflated.

“Well that’s better than nothing.”

“Keep it between us though.”

“So you tell him?” Nakia laughed as her husband looked at her in faux offense. 

“It was his idea!” The ladies continued to laugh and talk as T’Challa’s grimace grew.

“Ok, well I know it’s late there, so see y'all in a couple weeks?”

“We’ll be here,” They ended the call and T’Challa looked to the queen, shrugging.

“I couldn’t help myself.”

Nakia laughed and crawled in bed next to her husband, both of them swiftly falling asleep after a long day of ruling a whole country. 

--------

JJ was super excited to ride in the Talon, never having seen the inside before, and even though Monae worked around Wakandan technology, she was just as much in awe of the futuristic aircraft as her son. Okoye made sure they were comfortable on their trip, but Monae’s anxiety almost got the best of her. There were times when she almost started hyperventilating, but then JJ’s bright smiling face brought her back out of it. She was leaving the country for the first time in her life and flying in a human spaceship to a formerly hidden African country with technology way more advanced than the rest of the world. If someone had told her ten years ago that this would be her life, she would’ve laughed in their face, yet here she was.

When Okoye called them to the front of the ship to watch them enter the dome, Monae’s heart almost beat out of her chest as they glided through the trees and into Wakanda. The city she saw before her blew her away, it was bigger and more beautiful than New York or Tokyo or any of those other big cities she’d seen or read about. The real life afrofuturism stunned her to silence, and it was only broken when JJ noticed the people waiting for them to land.

“Look, it’s Uncle Challa and Auntie Kiki and Auntie Shuri and Uncle Daka and Hasina and Hasani. Where’s baba? And who's that?”

“Baba isn't here, baby. We’re here to surprise him...and I think that’s T’Challa and Shuri’s mom.”

When the ship touched down and the doors opened, JJ ran out and tackled his play family in hugs and kisses. Monae carefully made her way down the stairs and joined the group, giving hugs all around.

“Long time no see, Nae!” The prince 

“How’s Oakland treating you?”

“Much worse now that I have left,” Shuri interjected, making N’Jadaka roll his eyes and mush her face. “Hey!”

“Oakland’s great, running just like before. You should come visit.”

“Only if you visit the Nashville Center.”

“Deal.”

Monae turned to see JJ walk up the one person there she didn’t know.

“Are you Uncle Challa and Auntie Shuri’s mom?”

Queen Mother chuckled and bent down closer to his level, “That I am. And you must be Jabari.”

“Or JJ!”

“Nice to meet you, JJ. My name is Ramonda.”

“Can I call you Auntie too?”

“Of course, you wouldn’t be the first,” she winked at the older prince and he smirked back. 

“Monae, dear, I’ve heard so much about you. All good things, of course. How are you?”

“Honestly, Queen Mother, I’m a little nervous to be here.”

��Trust me, you will love Wakanda. And you are family, call me Auntie.”

The group relocated to the domestic wing of the palace as the kids ran ahead and Queen Mother chatted with Monae. T’Challa showed them to their rooms, and allowed them time to get settled in before dinner in an hour.

Monae was nervous, she knew she would see M’Baku at dinner, and since T’Challa has a flair for the dramatic he had planned for her to get there a little late and make an entrance. Well, not a huge entrance, since it would be a small family dinner, but still. She fixed the collar on JJ’s shirt and then smoothed out the front of her purple dress that contrasted beautifully with her pink fade. She took a final breath before reaching for the door handle and being led down the hallway by the palace guards. They arrived at the double doors and Monae froze.

“Mommy?”

“Y-yes baby?”

“Are you ok?”

“I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.”

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just baba.”

His words echoed in her head as she thought back to their time together. It’s just M’Baku, she thought to herself before taking one last breath and opening the doors.

When M’Baku arrived he was confused to see the two extra place settings, and as the food was brought out his confusion only grew. When the doors opened and his eyes met Monae’s he felt his heart drop into his stomach. JJ ran to him and threw his arms around his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi baba!”

“Hello,” M’Baku chuckled. “What are you two doing here?” He got up and went over to Monae, enclosing her in a hug.

“Someone had the idea that I should surprise you and come see Wakanda for myself. Maybe that way I’ll be less nervous about him coming out here.” Monae took in his traditional attire and tried not to make her infatuation so obvious, but she failed. He looked damn good in his chief furs.

“How long are you here for?”

“Just two weeks.”

“That is all the time I need.”

“For what?”

“To convince you to stay,” he winked and walked her to her seat, pulling it out for her as she fussed at him.

“I never said I was staying, I said we’re here to visit.”

“Tomato, potato,” M’Baku said as Monae almost spit out her drink and half of the table fell out in laughter. 

“I think you mean ‘tomayto, tomahto’ my G,” N’Jadaka corrected him with tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

Monae grabbed M’Baku’s hand and squeezed it before he brought it to his lips for a kiss. She allowed it since she was slowly getting used to him again and he couldn’t be happier.

“So, Monae, how do you like your rooms?”

“They’re so nice! Mine alone is the size of my first floor at home, add in JJ’s and we have the whole house.”

“Wait until you sleep on the bed-”

“Wait, are you not staying with me?”

“Well I didn’t want to assume…”

“You two will always have a place with me. I can have your things moved while we eat, unless you would rather stay here.

Monae was apprehensive about the cold, but she had to remind herself why she was here. Everything was for JJ.

“Ok, we’ll stay with you.”

“Yay!” JJ cheered as a huge gap toothed smile appeared on M’Baku’s face.

--------

“I can’t believe you did this…”

Monae looked around JJ’s room and almost shed a tear. 

“I had it set up as soon as I learned I had a child. We can personalize it and change it however he wants, I have interior decorators lined up-”

“M’Baku, it’s perfect. I mean, look at him...look how happy he looks.”

JJ picked up a pretend sword and M’Baku beamed at the future warrior. Monae playfully rolled her eyes as they watched him play-fight with an imaginary assailant. 

“I will have to teach him how to fight for real one day, you know?”

Monae sighed, reminding herself yet again that this was all for JJ. “I know.”

“But you do not like it?”

“No, I don’t like the idea of my son running into battle,” Monae snipped before taking a second and centering herself. “I’m sorry, I’m just...I’m trying, ok?”

“I know. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome...so my room?”

“Yes, right next door here.”

He showed her the room and the view from her window stunned her speechless. She could see all of Wakanda.

“This view…”

“The best in all of Wakanda.”

She felt him close behind her and turned around, coming face to face with the Jabari chief.

“Better than yours?”

“No,” he smirked. “Let me show you.”

They checked in on JJ, who had already curled up with a storybook ready for bedtime.

M’Baku read to his son as his eyelids fell and he eventually drifted off to dreamland. The two adults snuck out of the room quietly and closed the door behind them, saying good night to the guards, before walking just a few doors down and entering the largest room Monae had ever seen. It sat on the corner of the palace, with a large balcony swooping around the side, looking out onto all of Wakanda. She could see even more of the beautiful country and maybe even past it to neighboring countries as well. 

“This is...wow.” 

“Sometimes I cannot believe it myself. Can I get you anything? Water, whiskey, tea?”

“Tea would be great actually,” she sat down on the couch as her eyes continued to wander around the space before they landed on his bookshelf.

“See anything you recognize?”

She got up to take a closer look and saw the books she gave him all those years ago, and a shy smile took over her face. She continued to browse his space, much like he did the first time she brought him to her place five years ago. 

“Is this you? You look just like him!” Monae stopped on a picture of a young M’Baku with his parents. JJ held a striking resemblance to young M’Baku just like how older M’Baku looked just like his father in the picture. “The Jabari must have strong genes...I thought my family all looked alike, y’all are something else. Let me guess, you look like your granddaddy, too?”

“I do, actually,” he chuckled as he handed her a cup of jasmine tea. “Have a seat, make yourself comfortable.” M’Baku disappeared into what Monae assumed was a closet and reemerged in a brown hoodie and sweatpants.

She kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs under her as she sat on the couch, sipping her tea.

“So…” she started.

“So?”

“So, I guess we should talk about JJ.”

“JJ is fine for now, let us talk about something else. Like why you are so nervous around me.”

“I’m not nervous-” he cut her off with a look. “Ok, fine, I’m nervous, but I don’t know why.”

“Monae,” he turned her jaw towards him so they could look into each other’s eyes, “I know this is hard for you, I do. And I am not asking for you to completely uproot your life for me, but I want to be with you again...even if we have to make it work across the world.”

“M’Baku, I-” her head dropped.

“Do not have to make a decision right now.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…”

“Is there someone else?”

“Wh- no! I barely have time for myself, much less anyone else. I mean, I’ve gone on dates, had a few hookups-”

“Please, spare me the details.”

“Right, sorry,” she cleared her throat. “Don’t you have some royal suitors lined up or something?”

He chuckled, “I did, until I met you. They had been trying to find a chieftess for me for years.”

“Chieftess?”

“Yes, my wife would be my chieftess.”

“And if we get back together…?”

“I told you I could give you a kingdom, Monae.”

She hadn’t noticed he’d moved closer until she felt his breath on her cheek. She turned to meet his face and their lips connected, making fireworks shoot all over Monae’s body. She pulled back and looked at him before she straddled his body and dove back in for more. Their tongues danced against each other as the kiss turned passionate and his hands explored her body. He let out a moan as his hands gripped her ass that had gotten bigger over time. Her waist was thicker and her breasts hung a little lower, and he loved every inch of her. She grinded into his lap as she sucked on his bottom lip and he let out another moan that sounded closer to a growl before pulling back.

“If you want me to stop-”

“Don’t stop.”

A fire burned behind his eyes as she pulled her dress over her head, revealing her body to him. His fingers traced over the stretch marks on her stomach and she shivered at his touch as his eyes raked up and down her naked form. When she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him again, he stood with her in his hands and walked her to the bed, lightly placing her down in the middle.

“I have missed you so much Babygirl,” he said between kisses as she squeezed her legs tighter around him. She could feel his  dick hardening between his legs as she opened her legs wider to let him in. 

He kissed down her body until he reached her center, his lips ghosting over hers as he thanked Hanuman for bringing this woman back into his life before digging in like it was his last meal. Monae writhed on the bed as his tongue alternated between exploring her insides and licking her clit into submission. When his lips closed around her as he sloppily tongue kissed her entire pussy, she let out a deep moan that overwhelmed her emotionally and tears sprang from her eyes.

“Cum in my mouth.”

“Mm, yes.” her tears continued to pour out of her eyes as her body shook and tensed up before releasing a deluge onto his tongue. He didn’t stop either, he kept pushing her to her breaking point over and over again until he finally got tired and kissed his way back up her body.

“Are you ok?” he asked as he wiped her tears away.

“I’m ok,” she nodded.

“You are crying more than usual.”

“I just really missed you. It’s hard to explain how all this feels and the feelings are overwhelming as fuck...but I know I want this. I know I want you.”

He pecked her lips.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Monae, I am not just talking about sex-”

Her hands cupped his face and she pulled him into her so their foreheads rested against each other. “Neither am I.”

His thumb traced her bottom lip as he stared into her big brown eyes. Her hand made its way down his body and rested between his legs, rubbing along his thick, juicy dick that she missed oh so much. She grabbed the head and rubbed her thumb over his tip before running her fingernails up the leg of his sweatpants. She caught the bottom of his sweatshirt and pulled it up, prompting him to break their kiss and pull the hoodie over his head. His pants went next and she was met with the sight of his beautiful naked body.

He came back in for a kiss and she pulled his body over hers, opening herself to him again. He rested his forearm on the pillow next to her head and his other hand found its home under her knee, pulling her leg back even more as he leaned in to kiss her deeply.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear as he slowly pushed inside her, working his way in one inch at a time then pulling out and pushing in deeper with each thrust. Her relatively short nails marked up his back as he filled her in a way she hadn’t been filled in years. She felt emotions swirl in her chest and escape from her eyes and he kissed her tears away one by one.

Once he was fully seated inside her he stilled to compose himself, allowing her to feel all of him inside her. Her pussy squeezed him tight and she grinded up into him.

“Move, baby.”

His hips pulled back before rolling forward, pushing deep into her wetness as she cried out to the heavens. Every thrust brought their already intertwined bodies closer together and he looked down at her with love in his eyes as he played her body like a drum. Monae couldn’t handle all the feelings and eventually they boiled over and she snapped, cumming all over him and rolling them over so that she was on top. Her hips worked him like it was her job, and her hands clawed at his shoulders. She corkscrewed her hips as she leaned her body back away from him, exposing her breasts for him to play with. And that he did, taking them into his mouth and teasing her pebbled buds before covering her entire neck and chest in kisses and light nibbles as she got up on her tiptoes and pounded her hips down onto his pelvis. 

She felt the pressure rising in her lower abdomen and circled her hips, dragging her clit along his body and letting out a moan from deep within her soul as the pressure released. 

“Let me see that arch in your back,” he said with a slap to her asscheek. Monae hopped up and kneeled down next to him before leaning forward and dropping her top half to the bed, leaving her voluptuous ass in the air for him to do as he pleased.

“Good girl.” He came up behind her and entered her in one swift motion, grabbing her hips and thrusting into her with rhythmic abandon. 

“Yes! Yes!” was all she could say as she gripped the sheets in front of her and did her best to hold her ass up for him. He could tell she was struggling, so his hands came up under her hips and lifted them for her, making sure he got the correct angle to hit her spot. His grunts of passion mixed with her high pitched moans as he tore her apart to create a symphony in the large room, their voices echoing off the walls and out into the mountains. 

His hands slipped and her body slid to the bed, prompting him to lean over her body and pull her neck back for a sloppy kiss, tongues meeting each other before their lips did. He used his other hand to grip her ass tight after slapping it. 

“I feel you getting ready to cum again,” he whispered in her ear, “I am right there with you, Babygirl. Just tell me where you want it.”

“I-inside me. Please, Daddy.”

He flipped her over and plunged back inside, kissing her deeply as he dug into her. Monae’s nails found the same indents as before as he gave her all he had to give. Their foreheads connected as her walls contracted around him and his strokes faltered. 

“M’Baku!” she cried out as she exploded all over him again, kicking his orgasm into gear as he stared deep into her eyes and emptied himself into her. The two of them fought to catch their breath as they untangled and laid next to each other. As they came down she was finally able to find the words she had buried for so long.

“M’Baku?”

“Hm?” He turned to look at her with his arm folded behind his head and she curled up at his side.

“I love you too.”

He chuckled and kissed her nose, “I know, Babygirl.”

--------

The next day, M’Baku showed his family around to the other tribes, but of course he saved the best for last. The Jabari people welcomed Monae and JJ with open arms and a week later, they held a celebration in honor of the little prince. He loved the attention, but mostly he just liked getting to play with his Panther tribe cousins and the other Jabari kids. Several elders came up to Monae to ask questions about marriage, all of which she managed to dance around like an expert, but the questions about JJ’s crowning were a little harder for her to dodge. She had hoped they would be able to put it off some, but it didn’t seem as though the elders were too keen on waiting. After the feast was over and the two parents put JJ to bed, Monae finally spoke up.

“So...the elders…”

“Yes, they seem to like you

“Oh I know they like me, each one of them asked me at least twice when I’m marrying you.”

“When are you marrying me?”

 “M’Baku I-”

“No I am serious, Monae,” he cooed as he walked towards her. “Stay with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

“That is not a good enough reason.”

“I have Jazz, and my job, and my friends.”

He grabbed her hands in his.

“Monae, Nakia did your job at the Oakland Center while living in Wakanda part time...travelling to see Jazz and your friends, or bringing them here even, would not be a problem. You are best friends with the king and queen, not to mention you yourself would be a chieftess...these problems are easily fixed, my love.”

Monae removed her hands from his and walked to the balcony, pulling the collar of her fur coat up to shield her from the elements. He followed after her and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his head on hers. 

“M’Baku, I’m not saying no...I’m saying I can’t just up and follow a man I was with for just two months to the other side of the world because he magically reappears in my life.”

“I am not just some man, Monae,” he turned her around to look at him, “I am Lord M’Baku the Great Gorilla, Chief of the Jabari. I am the father of your son. I am the man that you fell madly in love with in just two months. I do not want you to follow me, I want you to be with me...even on the other side of the world, if that is where your heart desires to be.”

“What would I even do here?” she asked, barely above a whisper.

“You could teach dance classes, or plan events, or whatever else might play to your skillset. You can even do nothing for the rest of your life if you want to-”

He was cut off by a nigga please glare from Monae.

“So basically, I can do whatever I want.”

“Yes.”

“And JJ? What will he do?”

“He will do everything Jabari children do. He will go to school, learn to fight, and when he is in his teens I will start preparing him to take over one day.”

“Teens?! Isn’t that too young still?”

“He will not be in charge then, think of it more as an apprenticeship.”

“Ok...this is a lot to take in, M’Baku. I’ll talk to JJ and see what he thinks.”

“But he is just a child.”

“And as his mom I want him to know that even though I have the final say, his voice gets to be heard.”

“You are a good mother.”

A tear came to her eye and she looked down, “Thank you.”

“If I absolutely had to accidentally abandon a child with anybody, I am glad it was you.”

They broke into laughter and he kissed her forehead.

“We will figure it out.”

The two of them fell asleep in each other’s arms, and when the next morning came Monae decided breakfast would be as good a time as any to gauge JJ’s reaction to their possible move.

M’Baku flipped the pancakes on the griddle as Monae sat at the table with JJ, both coloring away in his Blue’s Clues coloring book. They were so engrossed in their artwork that they barely even noticed him set the food down in front of them until he cleared his throat. They both looked at him and gave a sheepish grin, making M’Baku wonder how JJ could look so much like him yet so much like his mother at the same time. 

Monae made JJ’s plate and cut up his pancakes for him before digging into her own. The pancakes melted in her mouth and the eggs were perfect fluffy clouds. She had forgotten how good he was in the kitchen. “Mmm this is delicious.”

“Baba, you can really cook. You’re as good as mommy!”

The adults chuckled as M’Baku sat down and dug in, enjoying the fruits of his labor. After a few minutes of just scraping utensils silling the silence, Monae cleared her throat.

“So...JJ. How do you like it here?”

“It’s really cold, but it’s fun. I like the snowball fights.”

“You are very good at them,” M’Baku added.

“You are. So do you like it more than home?”

“No they’re both good, especially with Auntie Jazz there now.”

Monae had hoped for a clear cut answer, but it didn’t seem like she’d be getting one.

“Well what do you like about both places?” she asked.

“Here there’s baba and umakhulu and Hasani and Hasina and my aunts and uncles and rhinos and snow. Auntie Jazz is at home though, and so are my friends and Juju and the Center.”

Monae contemplated his words, still not coming to a concrete solution.

“JJ, how about you help me clean up the kitchen?” M’Baku asked after noticing the perplexed look stuck on Monae’s face.

“Ok!” JJ hopped down from his chair as M’Baku collected the plates from the table and brought them to the sink. Monae watched how the two of them interacted while they washed and dried the dishes. JJ and M’Baku had grown close in the time they had spent in Jabari land. She loved watching them laugh and goof off together, and every time she watched him read JJ a story at night, her heart felt full. When they finished washing dishes M’Baku sat back down at the table with Monae and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

“Did that help with your decision making?”

“Not at all, he’s so diplomatic.” she groaned and put her head against the table.

M’Baku stifled a smile as he rubbed her back.

“Mommy, what’s wrong?”

“Just a little headache, baby.”

“JJ, what do you say I take you to a gorilla nest?”

Monae’s head popped up immediately, “Is that safe?!”

“Yes, the ones we will visit are used to being around humans.”

“I don’t know, M’Baku-”

“Come with us, it will ease your mind.”

Monae took a deep breath then nodded before the kimoyo beads she had been gifted upon arrival started to make noise. “It’s Jazz, I’m gonna take this in my room.” 

He nodded, knowing she needed to talk things out with her sister before she could make a decision. 

When Monae made it to her room, she answered the call and Jazz’s voice filled the room.

“Heyyyyyy!”

“Why are you awake? It’s like midnight.”

“You know I’m a night owl. So what’s up? Your text sounded like you were freaking out.”

“I am freaking out.”

“Why? The sex not as good as you remember or something?”

“No it’s definitely not that...he wants us to stay.”

“Ok...and the problem is?”

“My life is in Nashville, you’re there, my job is there, my friends are there. JJ’s friends are there.”

“He’ll make new friends. And didn’t you tell me you worked with the queen? In Oakland...on the other side of the world from her kingdom...that she ruled...while working in Oakland?”

“Ugh yes, you sound like M’Baku.”

“You got a smart babydaddy. One that I’m sure wouldn’t mind me coming to visit. It’ll be just like when I was at NYU.”

“I know, but you just moved in and now I’m abandoning you-”

“Sis, you’re not abandoning me. I. Will. Be. Fine.”

Monae took a deep breath.

“So what’s with all the excuses?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Why all the excuses, Nae?”

“I just want to do what’s right for JJ, but I don’t know what that is. He likes both places equally. I don’t want to uproot him, but I also don’t want to keep him from M’Baku and his side of the family.”

“All I’m hearing is that you’re too scared to make the decision you want to make. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you hiding behind JJ as an excuse knowing damn well he’s going to be more than fine wherever y’all go?”

“I...damn. You’re right.” Monae had exhausted all her excuses and felt defeated. She really was the only thing standing in their way. 

“Duh, so what are you gonna do about it?”

--------

The night before their departure, M’Baku and Monae did their usual routine of getting JJ ready for bed then retiring to his quarters for tea or something stronger. 

This time was a little different though, despite the red wine poured into two glasses. Monae was usually much more talkative, but this time she seemed to be in another world.

“Is everything ok, my love?”

“Hm? Oh yeah, just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About a lot of things, really. About JJ, work, my future...us.”

“What about us?”

“I know that being with you, I'd have certain responsibilities,” she paused as M’Baku nodded. “Like what?”

“Well I am not entirely sure. We are restructuring the way we run things here. I was gone for five years and the council had no problems stepping in and ruling in my absence. The flexibility will allow me to come to America more often to visit...I don’t think I can handle just seeing him for a couple months a year, but I can come to you.”

“Isn’t that against tradition?”

“Yes, but so is having a child out of wedlock and I do not see anyone complaining about that. In fact, the people love JJ...and you,” he grabbed her hand in his and intertwined their fingers.

“I’ve noticed,” Monae deadpanned, thinking back to all the questions about marriage the council threw her way. M’Baku chuckled as he read the frustration on her face.

“Tradition got thrown out the window as soon as the aliens arrived.”

“I bet,” Monae laughed before her face turned serious. “What was it like fighting aliens?”

“Terrifying. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw that day in battle,” he kissed her hand, “but the whole time I was praying to Hanuman that I could see your face again. When T’Challa told me how much time had passed, I was heartbroken. I just knew you had found somebody else...when you told me I had a son, my whole world changed. Now I have to raise my little boy in a world with terrifying aliens that I don’t understand and cannot explain to him.”

“I still can’t explain The Snap to him, maybe when he’s older I’ll have the words, but as for now I don't even understand it enough to answer him. He asked me the other day if you would get Dusted again...he’s worried about losing you and I can’t give him an answer because I’m worried about the same thing.”

“Is that what all this is about? Your hesitance?”

Monae burst into tears and he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in closer.

“It-it’s just that it could happen again at any moment. What if you’re gone for another five years? What if you never come back if there’s a next time?”

“Monae, it is over. The Titan is dead, the stones are gone, the gauntlet is gone...there will be no more Snaps. I cannot promise that something else equally preposterous will not happen instead, but that worry is gone now.”

She crawled into his lap and curled up into a ball as he stroked her back.

“So...no more aliens?”

“I cannot promise that...just no more Snaps.”

She nodded and rested her head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in and relaxing more with each inhale of his scent. 

She let out a sigh.

“Is something wrong, my love?”

“I just remembered we leave tomorrow.”

“Yes, I have been trying not to think about it.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know...but I won’t miss you long.”

M’Baku deflated.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she sat up and looked him in his sad eyes, “that it’s not fair for JJ to bounce between us. He needs a home that’s not split in half, and there’s more for him here than back in Nashville.”

“You are saying-”

“That we’re gonna go home tomorrow, pack our things, then come back in a week.”

A slow smile spread across M’Baku’s face as a tear came to his eye. Monae wiped it away as he kissed her all over her face before pulling back and staring into her eyes.

“I know you are coming back for JJ’s sake, but what does this mean for us?”

“It means that although JJ comes first, and is the main reason for this move...I can’t say that being closer to you had nothing to do with it. I’ve been alone for five years, I don’t want to be without you again.”

“I am sorry that I left you, Monae.”

“You had no choice, don’t be sorry.”

“I just hate that I missed out on so much. Pictures aren’t enough.”

“You’re here now. Yes you missed his birth and his first steps, but you’ll teach him how to shave and how to be a Jabari warrior. There will still be plenty of wounds to kiss and make better, baby. Plenty more ‘firsts’.”

“Mm. Would you ever consider having another child?”

“My answer used to be ‘hell no’, but that was before you came back. I could consider it...I think JJ would make a great big brother...maybe in another year or two?”

M’Baku’s smile was wider than ever and his eyes twinkled in the light as he looked at her, studying her features. Her big doe eyes always gave her emotions away, even behind her thick tortoiseshell frames. She had laid her heart out on the table for him and he almost couldn’t believe how quickly she seemed to change her mind. He wasn’t sure exactly how their conversation went, but he knew he had Jazz to thank for this. 

“That sounds perfect.”

The two of them stayed up all night discussing their future, emptying the bottle of wine around midnight, and falling asleep on the couch shortly after. The next morning, Monae was awakened by the sound of JJ knocking on the door. She opened her eyes to see they had somehow made it to the bed and smiled picturing him carrying her while she slept peacefully in his arms. M’Baku stirred next to her and stretched as she got up to answer the door.

“What’s up baby?” she asked him, still groggy and voice cracking as she adjusted M’Baku’s t-shirt she was sleeping in...that she also did not have on when she fell asleep.

“I’m hungry, it’s late.”

Monae looked at the time and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, “How is it already 10:30?!”

M’Baku made breakfast again while Monae rushed to get herself and their son ready for their trip. When JJ started folding his clothes to pack in his suitcase, Monae stopped him, having forgotten that he didn’t know the plan yet. She noticed he was moving slow and looked a little sad.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’m gonna miss it here.”

“You like being with your baba?”

He sniffled and a tear rolled down his cheek. It was at that moment that she knew she had made the right decision. 

“JJ...honey...mommy and baba have something to tell you,” she looked to M’Baku right as he walked in the door, filling the entire frame with his body. He sat on the bed on the other side of JJ and pulled him into his lap while Monae grabbed his little hands in hers.

“What is it?” he sniffled again as M’Baku wiped his tears.

“We’re going home today, but we’re coming back...we’re gonna move here to be with baba.”

JJ’s face lit up and he stopped crying. “Really?!”

“Yes, really,” M’Baku chuckled as he tickled his son, making his infectious laughter ring out once again.

“But what about Auntie Jazz?”

“It’ll be just like before, we can go visit her or she can come visit here.”

“But I thought you didn’t like the cold?”

Monae sighed as M’Baku stifled a laugh. “I don’t, but a Jabari man stole my heart and we made a little Jabari that belongs in the mountains with his people. I’ll adjust.”

“So...we’re really moving?” The hopeful look on his face made both his parents smile.

“Yes,” she laughed, “we’re really moving.”

“I have to tell Hasina and Hasani!” he jetted off to find his beads. They were programmed without most of the normal features so that he and his cousins could talk anytime they wanted to, and sure enough he immediately spilled the beans to the twins despite the fact that they would be seeing each other in an hour’s time. As they chatted, Monae and M’Baku grabbed the few things they would actually need for the week they would be gone and in no time flat, they were ready to go.

“Is that everything?” M’Baku asked as the family of three travelled to the small jet that would take them down to the palace. It was a gloomy, overcast day and the two parents tried to not let it affect their moods as JJ said goodbye to his grandma. Neither wanted to say goodbye, even though they both knew it was temporary. Any time apart felt like a lifetime.

“I think so, but we’ll be back so it’s fine.”

“I love hearing you say that,” he leaned in and kissed her.

They arrived at the palace and they were greeted by the royal family again, minus N’Jadaka who had gone back to Oakland a few days ago. 

The cousins immediately gravitated towards each other and started chatting away as the adults did the same.

“We heard from a couple little birdies that you’re moving here. What changed?” Nakia asked.

“I had to be sure...but I’m sure now.”

“Well dear, it seems you have made the right choice,” Ramonda motioned behind them and the two of them turned around to see the three kids play fighting. “I know M’Baku must be happier than a hippo in the Nile.”

“He is,” she beamed, “and honestly I am too. I was scared, but it’s like as soon as I said ‘I’ll stay’ my worries just disappeared. I knew it was the right thing to do.”

M’Baku, Shuri, and T’Challa joined them and the two men put their arms around their loves.

“Are you ready?” M’Baku whispered to her.

“Yes,” she giggled at his breath tickling her ear.

“Enough of that, she’ll be back in a week,” Shuri playfully ribbed them and everyone laughed.

“But that is so long-“

“Five years, M’Baku.”

He conceded with a kiss and the group meandered towards the jet where Okoye and Ayo already awaited them.

Monae and JJ turned and said their goodbyes, leaving M’Baku for last.

He knelt down to JJ’s level and pulled something from his pocket before placing it around JJ’s neck. It was a wood bead necklace with a small hand-carved  gorilla pendant.

“It’s just like yours!”

“That is right, igorila encinci.” 

JJ threw his arms around M’Baku’s neck and M’Baku hugged him tight. 

“I love you, baba.”

“I love you too, Jabari.” he held him close and a tear almost came to his eye at hearing those words for the very first time. 

“Do you love mommy?”

Both parents smiled as M’Baku stood to his full height, carrying a giggling JJ with him. 

“I love you and your mommy more than anything else in this world,” he said, looking into her eyes. He leaned in for a chaste kiss and she obliged, making JJ giggle at their display before Monae reached out and started tickling him, really giving him something to laugh about.

“We’ll see you in a week?”

“I will be here,” he kissed both of their foreheads before they walked up the stairs and onto the ship. 

T’Challa and Shuri came up on either side of M’Baku as he waved at them before the Talon shimmered out of view as it went through the dome. He let out a sigh and everyone could see the dopey smile lingering on his face.

“Someone’s happy,” Shuri nudged him in his side and it broke him from his daze.

“Very.” He turned to the king, “Thank you.”

“For the ship? It is no problem, really-”

“No, for sending me to Oakland. I hated the idea of going, but I never would have met Monae otherwise...so thank you for not letting me talk you out of it.”

“You were never going to talk me out of it...but you’re welcome.”

T’Challa clapped M’Baku on the shoulder as he turned to go inside with the rest of the family.

“You coming?” Shuri asked M’Baku.

“In just a moment.”

She nodded and followed behind her brother, leaving M’Baku alone, staring up at the sky.

“Hanuman, Ancestors,” he started, “thank you for blessing me with the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. Thank you for allowing me to be in my child’s life. Thank you for leading me to Monae, and thank you for her choosing me over Damon. I have no words to express the depths of my gratitude, thank you just does not seem like enough...but that is all I have right now, so thank you, thank you, thank you. Please, keep them safe on this journey and bring them back to me.”

Just then, the clouds moved out of the way and the sun poked through for the first time all day.

“Glory to Hanuman,” M’Baku praised before he turned and walked back into the palace with a huge, goofy smile on his face, content in knowing his family would return to him soon.

The end.  

Taglist: @devnicolee, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife

[cosmiclatte28]

Tenalice #smut (Ten(alice) x you) 🔞

When your boyfriend decides to try on his Halloween costume again, he never expects you to come in from that door and mutters a curse before seeing your eyes changed. He saw the fire in your eyes and Ten knows, tonight will be a long ass ride for him, or maybe you ?

Warning : basically a pw(ith(out))plot. Naughty!Tenalice, you taking control, him teasing you too, steamy photographic session, more teasing and flirting... and a lot of sweet naughty talks. A plot twist too! Smut do not proceed if you're not old enough.... this is my messy brain doing its job to disturb me

Here's a naughty!Tenalice because my wild imagination cannot stop thinking about Tenalice. (Istg i am in my final weeks and this plot is stuck in my head)

You never expect this day to come, a day where you are super tired from work. Your boss has been shitty about your work, she has you redone all the proposals for a photoshoot, and you can't hold yourself back when you saw the notification from YouTube about your boyfriend's group costume party. To be precise princess costume party. You caught a glimpse of Ten dressing up as Alice and fuck he's hot. For the sake of your wellbeing, you do not watch the video in the office and choose to watch it later at home. But things are way better. You got home at night super drained and annoyed that all you want to do is jump into the hot shower and sleep. You can already feel the fluffy feeling of the big bed when you take the elevator to your house.

Once the door opens, you're greeted with a pair of shoes. You smile when you know Ten is already homed. Slowly you step into the kitchen to wash your hands, but he is not there. You check the living room and still there's no sign of him. You hear a soft giggle from your room and your ears perk. Without noise, you turn the knob to your room and what a beautiful scene lays before your eyes.

“Fuck-“

Ten gasps and turns his body around from facing the big body mirror you installed in your room to see you. His hands cover his face when he caught your jaw hanging upon seeing him fully dressed in his Alice costume. The tiredness in your body disappeared (as if it's never there) when you see just how perfect Ten looks like in that tiny costume. His long legs are covered in a thigh high black and white striped stocking, the typical blue and white dress hugs his waist perfectly and his golden wig completes his pretty character. You gulp feeling heat rushing over your body and a smirk come to your face when Ten acts all shy being busted.

"Oh sorry didn't know you're here," you pretended to look around. Ten pulls his hands away from his face and cross his hands over his chest.

"No problem, I didn't hear you coming in." He shyly stares into the ground.

You step into the room and close the door, taking your body to stand in front of him. "You look pretty! Super pretty," you bite your lips as you force his body to spin so you can eye him from all angle. Ten blushes for he secretly likes it, but pretends he is annoyed. "Aish what are you saying," he pouts, and you shoot him a look "look at you," you force him to face the mirror. "Just look... can Alice look this pretty and tempting?" You whisper next to his ears.

Ten shudders at your words. "I was just trying it back because the fans are wilding over the video... and i just want to see if I really look like the video." He tries to make an alibi. Your eyes scan the room and you caught your lights for taking pictures on, you also see a tiny bit of mess there he has on your make up table and you try your best to hide your laugh.

"I think you're doing more than that honey, you're planning to... take a photo I guess?" You walk to your cabinet and take out your camera. It's been a while, you enjoy photography (duhh it's your job) and Ten has been a great model for your clothing blog, but maybe just this one time you can try to take cute pictures of him in this tempting little Alice dress.

Ten was about to peel off the costume if not for your scream of "Wait!" He pauses and shoots you a questioning look. "Since you're in that already, why don't you be good for me and be my muse for tonight?" You already set up your camera and lights. He stutters, wow Ten lee stutters before you is something rare, "If that's what you want, then I guess I cannot object." You kiss him quick appreciating how cooperative he is.

"May I?" You ask before polishing his face with some powder and a blush. He nods and just closes his eyes, allowing you to paint faint colors on his glass skin. And with the last stroke of lip gloss, and him smacking his lips... you really need to hold yourself back before wrecking him.

"How do you want me to pose?" He asks but rather in a shy way like this is his first photo session with you. You smirk, "Oh Ten you do know how to tease me don't you?" He just ignores you and once you bring up your camera to your eye, he's no longer Ten. He's the shy but playful yet daring Tenalice.

You really have to hold yourself back when he poses professionally on his knees and his acting is not kidding. "Oh gosh Ten you look so..." you bite your lips unable to continue speaking when he changes his pose again and even to a more daring position. He smirks over his golden hair and bites his lips when your camera happens to focus on his upper body only and damn you will print these pictures and make an album out of it.

This photo session starts with an innocent pose and as your clicks go on, Ten becomes more bolder. He's almost making you scream stop because you can feel the pool in your panties. You lost your cool when he suggests you to be bolder in taking the pics.

"Honey what about we make this a catalogue for your side blog," he suddenly sounds naughty and challenging.

"What side blog?"

"Oh you know the one for adults," he shrugs his shoulder.

You shake your head "I don't have any side blogs. What do you mean?" He stands up from the floor, walks to the bed and with one spin that causes a sliver of his thigh comes into light, he plops himself down on the fluffy mattress. He sits down on the bed, on his knees and suddenly opens them just enough for you to see his lace underwear covering his hardness.

Your grip tightens on your camera and you shake your head "Am I hearing things?" He takes your arm and pulls you to sit on the edge of the bed, carefully he runs a hand over your back, "No you hear me right. You can just not include my face in my pics right? A back picture or just from the torso downward?"

You close your eyes and cup his face "Are you trying to tell me you're into semi-exhibitionism now?" He shyly runs his finger on your arm, "Whatever you call it, I just don't want my effort in wearing this costume ends in vain." You put your camera on the side and think for a while, well you can always take the pictures and never post them, right? You don't really like sharing the view of your boyfriend to random horny internet users, moreover what will his career be if the world finds out he has a catalogue of that naughty Alice pictures posted by his girlfriend?!

"Honey" his voice lures you in, "we don't have to post them... take a picture for me?" He asks in that sweet pleading voice you can never say no to. With that, your smirk reappears on your face and your hand runs along his stocking up to his thigh and with one whack on his ass you peck him "You asked for it, don't be shy when I ask you to do more, I am taking control of you tonight." Ten hides a smirk, deep inside his heart he knows you won’t ever win a game in taking control and he’ll proof it again tonight.

He almost squeal like a happy teenage girl, but his excitement doesn't allow him. You tie your hair up and change first into a comfortable shorts and tees, your working outfit was drenched in sweat too gosh you cannot handle the heat he radiates. "Have you ever worked with a project like this?" Ten asks after you get your cameras ready again. You shake your head, "I did an underwear photoshoot once for Lay and gosh I cannot take any job like that again..." you blush when you remember how it affects your concentration for weeks since you also have to do the editing.

Ten bounces on his knees "Ehem your boyfriend is here can we just finish this faster," he whines and you nod "Okay okay.. impatient, aren't we? Now pose and act like I’m not here."

With each naughty pose he strikes you can see him also struggling to keep his face straight and you're starting to squirm too. "Um Ten," you take out your camera from your neck and turn it off then keep it away on the table. You can no longer take his game, no he's toying on you and shouldn't you be the one toying him?!

"Oh you're done?" He suddenly turns his head to look at you from his shoulder. Well for the last one he was showing his back and posing for you, that's when you decided you cannot do more. You dip into the mattress and straddle Tenalice under you. He brushes his bangs away from his eyes and holds your waist in place. Gently your finger traces his arms down to his stone abs and to his thigh, carefully you pull up his skirt aside and without breaking eye contact, your fingers found the texture of the lace panties and Ten gasps a low moan.

You snigger, “Oops,” and slip your palm to grab his member. He whimpers when you tease him.

“Oh don’t tease me,” he exhales when you’re just touching his tip.

You shrug your shoulder, did not minister him at all just loosely grab them, feel yourself on his thigh and Tenalice brings himself to kiss you. He grasps your hand and takes it away from his aching member, “Baby if you’re only going to tease me, you better stop. You wake up the beast.”

In a second, Ten flips you on your back and latches his lips into yours. This time, he’s the one who takes control, “You’ve teased me now It’s my time to teach you a lesson honey.” His voice is still his honey Tenalice voice, but you know better not to talk back at him, not when the fire in his eyes is the same glint you got on the other hard nights.

“For your information Tenalice, you are the one teasing me. Don’t you have a great time posing for me for the cam and oh you’re going wild when you saw me squirm,” you talked back, though you know you shouldn’t.

Ten laughs, “That is the whole point honey, to make you think you’re teasing me but actually I am the one playing you. Look at you,” his palm ghost over your cheek, down to your chest over the valley to the aching wet pleasure bundle in you. You stifle your moan and bite your lips, your eyes close automatically when he gently flicks over the swollen bud. Ten giggles and kisses your neck, he bites and sucks on you. “You’re so pliant for me, so wet, so ready.”

You shake your head; this isn’t supposed to happen. You were thinking of taking control but look at you already devastated by seeing him in his Alice character and you’re once again under him. You toss your mind aside, winning can come next time, now the only thing you need is pleasure.

“You’re losing little bunny,” he smirks when he slips one of his long fingers into you and you’re already stuffing your hand over your lips. “Look at my white rabbit losing to Alice, just let go honey. I want to hear your voice.” He adds one more and thrusts into you quickly.

You pull his head for a deep kiss and with that, Ten knows he successfully tease you, makes you lose your mind and he knows you will find a way to win over him, but that is the whole point of doing this. He planned to tease you and make you lose.

“Ten,” you plead when he takes out his fingers when you’re super close to your ecstasy. Your pretty boyfriend gently rubs your back, “Why?” he pulls you up into his lap and you’re already whimpering when his hardness touches you. He wants you to say the word, to admit you lose but you’re finding it hard to say the word, not when he’s teasing you and staring you with his innocent eyes.

“Say it honey, I cannot read minds. Alice needs you to use your words.” He brushes your hair away from your face and your eyes are already teary. Your gaze was hazy and your head cannot think of anything else.

You take a deep breathe and gaps when Ten’s cold hand reaches your nape, you close your eyes and finally admit it.

“I lost, please just finish what you started,” you open your eyes to meet his dark eyes and a very small smirk comes from his mouth, “As you wish honey, just enjoy your ride. Tenalice is here to satisfy your fantasy.”

You blush, did he actually find out you like seeing him cross dressing, you swear if this is what you get and how he looks every time he wears a costume, you’ll buy him more dresses and number one list will be a maid dress. No question.

“Tell me do you love Ten or Tenalice more?” he asks once the two of you have finished a long ride. In the dark room, filled with sweat and reeks of love shots, you cuddle into your boyfriend’s chest. His costume is already gone on the floor along with yours and his wigs. He kept it on for a while, but ends up getting out of it in the end.

You hum for a while and while tracing random circles over his body you whisper, “I might need to see the other personalities too, but Tenalice is on my favorite list after Ten Lee,”

He chuckles ang hugs you closer, “Did I make too much bites?”

You shake your head, “I don’t mind, isn’t that a good thing people knows I belong to you? I’m quite surprised Alice likes to bite. Is she a vampire now?”

Ten laughs and just pulls you into another deeper kiss, “I love you, thank you for making this possible.”

You smile, “So, do we print out your pictures and sell them online?”

He smacks your ass and you whine “Were you trying to make use of the property that only you can see?”

You hit him back, “You were the one asking for it first.”

He ruffles your hair, “It was the air.”

You snicker, “Don’t be surprised if one day they are on the web.”

“I won’t be surprised. Besides I have a lot of your pics too, might even expose you honey. Eye for an eye” he winks and pulls the sheet to cover your two entangled bare bodies.

“I’m sleepy but I want to shower,” you yawn. Ten kisses you nose, “Sleep first, I’ll wake you up for shower later.”

“Love you Ten and Tenalice,” you mumble.

Good night, I am sorry if this sucks, but I cannot keep this in my head. I have to write it down and might as well share it ;)

Thank you for reaching this part, please tell me if you like this or if I am just being weird for having this in my head. 

  credits to the owner of the collage and the text those are not mine 

story does belong to me :p 

head up to masterlist and check out more Ten steamy smut scenarios, all of my Ten imagine are somehow steamy :) 

  thank you and enjoy your time with tenalice!

[howtosingit]

Fic: Ice in My Veins, Fire in My Heart

An unexpected, once-in-a-lifetime ice storm in Austin leads to a chaotic day for Carlos and the 126. 

*

Written for @911giftexchange | For @charlie-bradburyss

6K | Also on AO3

A/N: Happy Holidays, Holly! I hope this fulfills all of your “tarlos + fire fam/found family + hurt/comfort (emphasis on the hurt)” wishes. May the New Year bring you all the love and light that you deserve! 

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

The thing is, no one’s really expecting Austin to be pummeled by a once-in-a-lifetime freak ice storm.

Though rare, it’s not unheard of for the Texas panhandle to get hit by the southern tip of major storm systems that move across the Midwest, but Austin is typically too far south to really experience that kind of intense winter weather. Sometimes, they’ll have icy nights that lead to dangerous morning commutes, but that’s mostly because the majority of Austinites aren’t experienced with driving on ice-covered roads. There’s always a surplus of vehicular accidents to respond to on those mornings.

But, this is way more than that.

When TK first looks out the kitchen window, he has to do a double-take to confirm what he’s seeing, his coffee burning the back of his throat as he swallows quickly in shock. Every single inch of the world outside is covered in a shimmering layer of ice - every tree branch and leaf, every fence post and door handle; individual blades of grass find themselves trapped inside a shell of frozen water, and the back patio has turned into a miniature ice skating rink, complete with furniture coated in long, thin icicles.

He takes a moment to admire the ethereal beauty of a rare, wintery Austin, how the early morning sunlight dances across the rooftops of the neighboring houses. Then, realizing what all this ice is going to mean for the rest of his day, he glances down at his watch, cursing when he realizes what time it is.

“Babe!” he calls, grabbing two thermoses from the cupboard. He transfers his coffee into one, then fills the other. “Move faster, we’ve gotta get to work!” He quickly preps Carlos’s coffee the way he knows he likes it, then grabs a few protein bars for each of them to eat on the way to work. “Babe!” he calls again when he doesn’t hear anything from the bedroom.

“What the hell are you yelling for, TK? We still have an hour before our shifts,” Carlos gripes as he comes around the corner, uniform already on and shoes in hand. He gives TK a look of mild annoyance, his signature sass on display, and TK honestly adores him even if he is being obtuse at the moment.

Instead of answering, TK just points out the window, watching as Carlos takes in the icy spectacle, his eyes widening as his jaw drops. “Wow,” his husband breathes out, clearly in awe. Then, having the same realization that TK did, he glances down at his own watch. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, I thought you might say that,” TK laughs, moving towards the hall closet to grab their coats. He reaches towards the back, finding the ice scraper that Carlos kind of made fun of him for buying a few years ago. 

“You made me coffee?” Carlos asks when he reappears, holding his green thermos.

“Of course I did.”

“Have I mentioned that I really love you?” his husband questions, pulling on his coat.

“If this is your way of apologizing for getting sassy with me, I’m going to need you to work a little harder, babe,” TK jokes, sliding up next to him and raising his chin. Carlos rolls his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips as he ducks down to press their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

“How about I give you a ride to work?” Carlos suggests, still close enough that his lips drag against TK’s as he speaks.

“That’s a very sweet offer,” TK says, staring into his husband’s twinkling brown eyes, “but you were going to do that anyway.” Carlos’s police cruiser drives better on ice, so he always drives TK to work if there are hazardous conditions. “Try again.”

“How about,” Carlos starts, his voice going deeper as he trails his lips along TK’s jaw and up to his ear, “I drive you to work now, and then when we get home later, I run you a bath to help warm you up?”

TK hums, his heart rate picking up. “Make it a bath for two, and I’ll consider all of your indiscretions forgiven.”

Carlos huffs out a laugh, moving to press another kiss to his lips. “You are quite the negotiator,” he says, stepping away and grabbing two protein bars off the counter. “I accept your terms.”

The drive to work takes twice as long as usual, Carlos driving as carefully as possible through Austin towards the fire station. The roads seem somewhat deserted, and TK wonders if most people got stuck in their driveways before they could get far enough to cause mayhem in the streets. For the most part, the ice seems to be sticking around longer than it usually does. Carlos pulls to a stop outside Ladder 126. 

“See you later?” TK asks, leaning over the console to give him another kiss.

“Probably sooner than that, I’d guess,” Carlos says, knocking their foreheads together gently, the way he always does when they’re saying goodbye at the start of a workday. TK smiles, reaching for the door and climbing out onto the slick pavement. “Be careful out there.”

“You too, officer,” TK responds, giving him a wink before closing the door. He turns, heading into the station to being what will no doubt be a non-stop day.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Carlos is right. 

Almost immediately after his husband texts him that he made it safely to the police station, they’re called out to an accident on Lakewood Drive. When they arrive, TK spots Carlos in the distance, directing cars to use an alternate route.

A large semi-truck takes up the middle of the bridge, the trailer sitting nearly perpendicular to the tractor section. It still seems to be standing upright, so TK doesn’t immediately understand what accident they’re responding to.

“Officer,” his dad calls when Carlos spots them and starts moving their way, careful on the patches of ice that still remain on the bridge. “What’ve we got here?”

“Semi swerved a bit on the ice into the lane of oncoming traffic. Passenger car coming from the north then swerved to avoid it, completely lost control on the ice, and hit the guardrail on the passenger side,” Carlos reports, pointing in the direction of a mangled section of the barrier. “Car flipped and slid down the embankment.”

“How many passengers?” his dad clarifies, and TK can tell the way he tenses, his brain already working on a plan of action.

“Just the driver, an adult woman,” Carlos answers, his breath visible in the cold morning air. “My partner made it down to her and she’s responsive, but definitely stuck.”

“Okay,” Owen says, turning to face his team, jaw tight. “Jaws of life, everyone down. Medical will be here in a minute, let’s try to have her out for them.”

There’s a near-collective nod from all of them, but before they can move, they hear a crash in the distance. Turning, TK watches as the line of traffic becomes a danger zone of its own when an approaching car is unable to stop before it runs into the car ahead of it. Like, dominoes, the line begins to splay, cars trying to move to avoid being hit. 

“Damn,” his dad sighs, shaking his head. “Change of plan. Ryder, Strickland, Strand-Reyes, you’re down with the jaws of life. Marwani and Chavez, let’s see if we can keep things from getting worse up here.”

TK follows Judd and Paul to the truck, grabbing everything that they might need. As they head towards the damaged guardrail, he passes close to Carlos, nudging him in the side. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love to watch you work?” he says, giving his husband a wink as he moves past him. Carlos follows after him, laughing softly.

“TK, for God’s sake, will you stop flirting with your husband for one day,” Judd cries, and TK looks over to find him smiling at him, his eyes dancing with mirth. 

“Now, come on, Judd,” Paul adds, his tone teasing. “They’re just being newlyweds.”

“Newlyweds?” Judd scoffs, rolling his eyes. “They’ve been married for two years!”

“Oh, wait, you’re right,” Paul says exaggeratedly, like he’s just remembered. He turns back to TK and Carlos, now walking side-by-side, his face morphing into a look of disgust. “Stop being so in-love, it’s getting weird now.”

TK huffs out a fake laugh, his breath swirling through the air as he sticks his tongue out at his friends. They reach the top of the embankment, looking down at the wreckage. The car still seems to be pretty intact, so TK is hoping this won’t be too bad. He feels a solid hand on his back, turning to find Carlos looking at him, his face serious.

“Don’t do anything reckless down there, or I will arrest you,” he jokes, beginning to walk away.

“On what grounds?” TK gasps, his jaw dropping.

Carlos pauses, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks about it. “Trying to give me a heart attack before I’m 35,” he finally decides, shooting TK a wink before leaving them to go help with the traffic pile-up.

It’s slow-going, but TK, Paul, and Judd finally make it down the hill to the overturned car. Paul moves over to the window, speaking to the woman, while TK and Judd set down their bags. From what he can see, it looks like it’ll be a pretty straightforward removal.

They’re just prying the door open when his dad radios that medical has arrived. TK moves back to one of his bags over by the bridge, looking for more gauze to press to their patient’s shallow head wound, when there’s a loud crack to the right. He looks over, watching as a somewhat large icicle drops from the bridge and shatters onto the frozen creek below. Looking up, he watches another icicle detach itself and rapidly fall to the ground. 

“Shit,” he says, jerking to the side to avoid another one. He feels his feet slide out from under him, unable to gain traction on the ice, and before he knows it, he’s falling flat on his back, his head slamming hard against the solid ground beneath him.

His vision swims, pain coursing through him. His stomach turns, and he feels like he’s going to be sick. He closes his eyes, trying to breath. He thinks he hears a voice in the distance, maybe Paul or Judd calling to him, but he can’t make it out. There’s another loud crack from above, and he opens his eyes just in time to watch a rather large icicle grow larger as it flies towards him.

Pain bursts from his abdomen as he lets out a gasp, his vision swimming once more as his body tries to handle all of the trauma it’s currently experiencing. He clenches his jaw tightly, refusing to let out a yell. He can handle this, he’s done pain before. Between a gunshot and falling through the floor of a house and then falling off the roof of a house just last year, he can handle this. It’s no big deal, so he’s not going to make it one.

He lifts his head, blinking to clear his vision. There are voices around him, fuzzy shapes moving in his peripherals, coming closer. He ignores them, instead looking down towards his stomach. The sight causes him to gasp again, the pain coming back full force now that he has eyes on the source.

There’s an icicle buried inside of his abdomen.

From what he can see, it looks to be as round as his fist and about two feet long, the top of it gleaming threateningly in the sunlight, almost as if it’s proud of itself for the damage it’s just done.

“Fuck,” TK moans, lowering his head as Paul and Judd finally reach his side. He still can’t hear what they’re saying, so he just looks up at the clear blue sky instead. A thought pops into his head, almost making him laugh.

Carlos is totally going to kill him for this.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Sometimes, Carlos really hates living in Texas.

Well, that’s an oversimplification. It’s more that he hates the kind of stereotypical attitude that many straight men from Texas possess. The kind of “I’m built Texas tough” mentality that leads to reckless, dangerous, and truly annoying behavior. The kind of attitude that causes a fully-grown man responsible for a six-car pile-up to scream in his father-in-law’s face about how stupid and moronic everyone else is, including the firefighters currently fixing the mess he’s made, forcing Carlos to handcuff him and stick him in the back of his cruiser just so that they can all get a moment of peace. 

“Did you see the size of that vein in his neck?” Mateo asks as they move from car to car, making sure that everyone’s okay. “I thought he was going to collapse or something, his face was so red.”

“TK’s gonna be so upset that he missed you wrestling him to the ground,” Marjan pipes in from his other side, elbowing him in the ribs. Carlos just rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“You know that’s not a turn-on for him, right?” 

Marjan scoffs. “Sure, okay, I definitely believe that.”

Captain Strand approaches the three of them, effectively ending the conversation. “No one’s injured in those three cars, so I told them all to sit tight until the tow truck gets here. We may be able to help them once we’ve got the driver down there stabilized.” They all nod in agreement. “Marjan, Mateo, why don’t you keep making the rounds, keep people from trying to get out of their cars. We don’t need any unexpected accidents or falls.” The two firefighters accept their orders, moving away. “You’ve got someone directing traffic further down the road?” Owen asks Carlos.

“Yeah, at Lakewood and Carpenter,” Carlos says, pointing in that direction. “We shouldn’t have any traffic through here from now on.”

Before Owen can respond, they hear a sound from the bridge. They both turn to see the ambulance arrive and begin to walk towards it, eager to fill Michelle and her team in on what’s happening. At his side, Owen radios to his team that medical has arrived and will be down soon. 

They’ve just made it onto the bridge, Michelle already making her way towards them, when they hear a shout from down below. They both freeze, trying to listen, but then can’t make out the words. Then, Owen’s radio crackles to life, Judd’s voice coming through, his words rushed.

“We need medical down here ASAP, I’ve got a firefighter down.”

Carlos feels the blood rush from his face, his heart slamming into his ribcage. He shares a look with his father-in-law, and it’s clear that they both know who Judd’s talking about.

“Talk to me, Judd. What’s going on?” Owen says, already heading to the edge of the bridge, Carlos following right behind him. 

He stops short when his eyes land on the scene below. He doesn’t even need Judd's report to confirm what he’s seeing. At the bottom of the embankment, almost under the bridge itself, he sees TK laying on the ground, unmoving, a giant shard of ice sticking out of his midsection.

He doesn’t even think before he takes off down the slope, moving as quickly as he can without falling.

“TK!” he shouts, not even sure if the other man can hear him. He finally gets to the bottom, rushing over to his side. “TK!”

Paul moves aside, allowing him to kneel down by his head. He takes his face gently in his hands, watching as TK’s eyes blink dazily, his pupils unfocused and his mouth slack. 

“Nobody jostle him,” Michelle yells, and Carlos looks up to find her and her team closing in. “We don’t want that thing to shift an inch. Paul, hold it steady for me if you can.”

Carlos stares down at the two-foot icicle currently buried in his husband’s gut. Every time TK breathes, it pulses, almost threatening to fall over. Paul reaches out and wraps his hands around the top, keeping it vertical.

“What happened?” Michelle asks, kneeling on TK’s other side as she assesses the situation.

“He slipped on the ice and fell, then the icicle came down on him before he could move out of the way,” Judd explains. 

“He might have a concussion from the fall,” Michelle mutters, moving to shine a light in TK’s drooping eyes. “Seems likely. Rosewater, take over for Paul, Gillian, see if you can stabilize our patient in the car over there. Carlos,” she says, and his eyes snap up to look at her. “I need you to talk to him okay, try to keep him awake and responding. He could go into shock at any minute, and that’s not going to help us.”

He nods, ducking down to press his face closer to the one that he gets to wake up to every day. “Hey, baby,” he says softly, stroking TK’s forehead. “Hey, it’s me. Can you open your eyes for me? Just open your eyes for a minute, okay?”

TK moans, his eyes blinking rapidly a few times before he opens them enough for Carlos to see those green irises that he loves so much. “Carlos?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, hey, it’s me, I’m right here,” Carlos says, his voice a little unsteady as he tries to stay calm. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold,” TK mutters, his breath creating wisps of steam in the air above him. 

“Any pain?” Carlos asks, his eyes shifting down to glare at the icicle for a moment. 

“My head hurts,” TK admits, letting out a small gasp. 

“Anywhere else?”

TK shakes his head, his eyes darting everywhere.

“That’s probably the adrenaline,” Michelle interjects. She stands up, surveying the bridge above them. “I’m worried his body heat’s going to start melting that icicle faster than we want it to. We’ve gotta get him up there.”

“I don’t think we can get him up the slope without jostling him too much, there’s too much ice,” Tim says. 

Michelle turns to Owen, her face grave. “Get the ladder ready, Captain, we’re gonna have to lift him.”

With only a quick, wide-eyed glance down at his son, Owen shoots back up the hill, Judd following him. Off to the side, Carlos sees that Paul and Nancy have managed to remove the driver from the vehicle.

“Carlos?” TK says, and he quickly looks back down at his husband, running his thumbs along his cheek. 

“Yeah, Ty, I’m right here,” Carlos assures him, his bottom lip wavering. 

“I’m a little scared,” TK admits, his eyes glassy as he stares up at him. “It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

“You’re gonna be okay, cariño,” he says, his voice hard and clear. 

“You look scared,” TK tells him, raising a hand to touch Carlos’s mouth.

“I’m not scared, I promise,” Carlos lies, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m never scared when I’m with you.”

TK doesn’t respond. He just stares up at Carlos, eyes still unfocused, a wide smile taking over his face. 

Minutes later, the team loads TK up on a stretcher with no major problems, and for one shining moment, Carlos thinks everything’s going to be fine. 

He climbs up the embankment as fast as he can to meet him at the top, Michelle at his side. She’s telling him that she’s called for another medical team to come for the driver, who thankfully doesn’t appear to be in critical condition, when they hear a shout from Tim.

“Damn it,” Michelle says, running towards where TK’s stretcher is now laying on the pavement. Carlos follows, his heart back in his throat, and the sight that greets them nearly causes him to collapse. 

“Tim, apply as much pressure as you can,” Michelle says, throwing her hands on TK’s abdomen, blood rushing from where the icicle has shifted. “We have to get him in the van, we’ll have a better chance of stabilizing him there.” 

Carlos watches as TK’s head lists to the side, his eyes dropping closed.

“He’s crashing, let’s move people!” Michelle shouts.

There’s a mad rush all around him, but Carlos barely comprehends it. All he can do is stare at his husband, his unmoving body, the blood draining from his face while simultaneously gushing from the wound in his stomach. 

He doesn’t feel the way his knees hit the pavement, or Marjan’s arms around him. He doesn’t feel the tears falling on his cheeks, or the way he starts to shake. He doesn’t even feel the cold, unfamiliar Austin air. 

As TK is pulled away from him, he doesn’t feel anything at all. 

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

TK wakes up in the hospital.

At this point, it all feels very familiar. Every hospital room seems to smell the same, sterile and uninviting. The sheets are scratchy, which coordinates nicely with the scratchy hospital gown they have him wearing. He can hear the gentle beeping from the monitor next to him, and feel the pinch of an IV in his left arm. 

TK opens his eyes slowly, staring up at the ceiling as he assesses his current state. The lights are low, but it still takes him a minute to adjust, his head faintly throbbing. He recalls how much his head hurt on the scene, how his vision went blurry, and assumes he got a concussion from his fall.

He shifts slightly, gasping as the movement pulls at his midsection and an intense pain radiates throughout his entire body. The sound causes a weight against his right arm to shift, and he looks down, his eyes immediately softening at the sight before him.

Carlos is seated next to the bed, his body bent so that he can rest his head against TK’s arm, which he’s also gripping with one of his hands. His other hand is awkwardly linked with TK’s own, their fingers threaded tightly together. Carlos’s face is turned towards him, his eyes closed as he rests. TK notices how puffy his eyes are, and how his skin is more pale than usual. His heart sinks in his chest, an intense guilt masking his own pain as he stares down at the man he loves more than anything.

Before he can even think about how much pain it might cause, he lifts his left arm across his body to run his fingers through Carlos’s dark brown curls. It’s his favorite thing to do on the rare occasions where he’s the first one to wake up in the morning, and he knows his husband absolutely loves it. Sure enough, Carlos lets out a soft moan, unconsciously tilting his head towards TK’s fingers.

He can tell the minute that Carlos realizes what’s happening by the way his whole body tenses. His eyes fly open, his brown eyes wide as he sits up straight. His gaze finds TK, drinking him in, and TK can’t do anything but smile back at him, squeezing their hands together.

“Ty,” Carlos breathes, his eyes filling with tears.

“Hey, baby,” TK says, pulling gently on Carlos’s hand until he gets the hint.

His husband stands, shifting closer to the head of the bed, before bending down to press a soft kiss to his waiting lips. Carlos tries to make the kiss quick, but TK reaches up to grip the back of his neck, keeping him close.

“How long has it been?” TK asks when they separate, rubbing their noses together. At this point, it’s their traditional question when one of them is in the hospital. 

“They rushed you to surgery when you first got here, which took about four hours,” Carlos explains, his voice shaking as he runs his fingers soothingly through TK’s hair. “You’ve been sleeping for about five.”

“So, still the same day?” TK confirms. It’s an odd question, but after going through one multi-day coma in his life, he’s hoping to never have to do another. Besides, he knows Carlos wouldn’t handle it well.

“Still the same day,” his husband confirms, the first sign of a smile pulling at his lips. 

“That’s good.”

“Very good,” Carlos agrees, leaning in to kiss him. This one feels a little more heated than the last one. “You know how I get when I don’t get to kiss you goodnight.”

“You become the equivalent of a child who’s told he can’t have ice cream right before bed,” TK supplies, enjoying the shocked look that appears on Carlos’s face. “Or so I’m told.”

“Told?” Carlos cries. “Who told you that? Give me the traitors’ names, Tyler!”

“Just for that, I’m not going to,” he laughs, gasping for air when the movement sends a flare of pain through him. 

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks, worry written clearly on his face. He reaches out, his hands fluttering around him but too afraid to touch. 

“Yeah, I just,” TK grits out, holding his side. “Fuck, that does not feel good.”

It takes a few minutes of deep breathing for him to finally settle back down, reaching for Carlos’s hand when he’s sure that his grip won’t break his fingers. Carlos gingerly takes a seat next to him on the bed, running his free hand through his hair to soothe him.

TK’s just about to ask exactly what the damage is when there’s a knock on the door. They both turn to find his dad poking his head through, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Hey boys, sorry to interrupt,” he says, glancing behind him at something they can’t see. “There’s just some people here who wanted to say a quick hello.”

TK rolls his eyes, sharing a smile with Carlos. This happens every time someone from the firehouse ends up in the hospital - though to be fair, it’s usually him.

“You know you can always let them in, Dad,” he says, his fondness clear in his tone. Carlos just scoots a little closer, pressing one last kiss to his lips. 

“I love you,” he mutters, his eyes shining.

“I love you, too,” TK whispers back as the door is thrown wide open and the equivalent of a clown car files into his room.

Judd and Grace lead the way, followed by Paul, Marjan, and Mateo, then Michelle, Tim, and Nancy. His dad, the last one, closes the door behind him. Strictly speaking, this is way too many visitors to have in a single room at a time, but there are nurses at every hospital who are willing to bend the rules a bit for familiar first responders, as long as they’re discreet about it.

TK looks around at them all - Grace, with her hand on Carlos’s shoulder, and Michelle at the foot of his bed, her eyes glinting with happiness; his dad standing next to her; Mateo, Marjan, and Paul all standing to his left, Paul reaching out to punch him lightly on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. 

They’re his family, all of them. And they all saved his life today.

“I, um,” he starts, his voice thick with emotion as he looks around at them all. He feels Carlos’s hand slide up his arm, his thumb gently caressing his bicep in support. He turns to look at him, noticing how Carlos still has his back to most of the room as he faces him on the bed. They share a look, just between the two of them, and Carlos nods, a tear falling down his cheek as he squeezes TK’s arm.

“I, um, I wanted to thank you all,” TK says, looking around the room again, his eyes hovering over every face that makes him feel safe and loved and whole, “for saving me today. I - we - will never be able to tell you how much it means to know that we have all of you by our side, looking out for us.”

He feels a tear fall onto his cheek, but before he can reach up to brush it away, Michelle shifts from the end of his bed, coming around the side to stand next to him. She reaches out for him and Carlos, drying his face and gripping his husband’s arm tightly.

“Don’t be silly. You boys are our family,” Michelle says, “so we’re always going to be here for you. No matter what. It’s as simple as that.”

“She’s right,” Judd pipes in, his arm around Grace. “Though, full disclosure, we are gifting you a bulk-size roll of bubble wrap this Christmas.”

“Hey now, c’mon Judd,” Paul says, his hands buried in his pockets. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.”

“Ignore Judd, y’all,” Grace adds, rolling her eyes as she pats her husband’s chest. “He doesn’t do Christmas shopping, and I have much better taste, trust me on that.”

TK huffs out a laugh, wincing at the way it pulls at his injury. No one else catches it, too busy laughing at Grace’s comment and Judd’s offended expression. He glances over at Carlos, seeing a tightness behind his eyes, and knows that his pain didn’t go completely unnoticed. TK reaches over, squeezing his thigh where it’s pressed against his own. Carlos gives him a small smile, grabbing his hand to press a kiss to his fingertips.

The tightness in his eyes doesn’t go anywhere, though, and TK’s heart caves.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

The team stays until visiting hours are over, laughing and joking as they fill TK and Carlos in about the rest of the work day. It seems that much of the ice started to melt by the middle of the afternoon, making the end of the day much easier than the beginning. Finally, a nurse comes in, shocked to find so many people in one room, and tells them that visiting hours are over. One-by-one, they come over to hug TK and Carlos, Grace even pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. 

When only Carlos and his dad remain, the nurse checks his vitals, telling him that everything appears to be normal. Carlos stands by his side, hand on his shoulder, as TK honestly answers her questions about his pain levels. She helps him to adjust his position on the bed, showing Carlos how to help him so he’ll feel the least amount of pain. His husband listens closely, his face set and serious.

She leaves, and Carlos excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving him alone with his dad.

“How’re you feeling, kid?” his dad asks, sitting next to him. 

“A little tender,” he admits, running his hand lightly over the thick bandage on his stomach. They’re quiet for a moment, TK biting his bottom lip. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” he finally asks.

His dad looks at him, his eyes softening, before reaching out and taking his hand. “You crashed right before they got you in the ambulance. The icicle hit a pretty major blood vessel near your liver, and you lost a lot of blood when it shifted unexpectedly.”

TK is quiet, thoughts rolling through his mind. “He saw, didn’t he?” he confirms, his voice barely more than a hushed whisper. 

“Yeah,” his dad admits, his tone heavy. “He wasn’t in a good place when you left, so his partner drove him here and Michelle stayed with him until I could come.” TK nods, his eyes filling with tears. “He’s gonna be okay, though, TK. You both are.”

His dad stands again, looking around the room. “I’m going to head home,” he says, reaching out to run his fingers through TK’s hair. “I know you’re in good hands for the night. I’ll come back first thing in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah,” TK says. Then, he gets an idea. “Can you help me shift a little?”

His dad smiles knowingly before reaching out again to help move him to the left side of the bed, TK breathing deeply through the pain. 

Carlos finally comes out of the bathroom and his dad gives them both a hug, TK watching as he whispers something in his husband’s ear before pressing a kiss to his temple. Then, with a final wave, they’re alone again.

“Hey,” TK says, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” Carlos parrots back, his voice thin and uneven.

“Come here,” TK says, patting the now open space beside him. Carlos moves across the room, glancing down at the spot doubtfully.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ty,” he says, his eyes full of so much pain.

“Well, I don’t want to go another minute without you laying by my side, so get your ass up here.” The hard tone of his voice leaves no room for questions, so his husband sighs, sliding next to him as gently as possible.

They lay there for a moment, just breathing together. Then, like a dam breaking, Carlos turns onto his side, placing an arm over his chest as he tucks his face into TK’s neck. In no time at all, TK feels tears soaking the collar of his gown, and his own tears finally fall at the evidence of Carlos’s silent pain.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you today, baby,” he sobs, bringing his hand up to press against the dark curls near his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Carlos doesn’t respond except to shake his head, his sobs continuing. TK holds him through it, his heart shattering into a million pieces in his chest. Throughout the past four year, Carlos has had a few nightmares of TK bleeding out in front of him - caused by him getting shot before they even started dating - so he knows that today had to be especially brutal for his husband.

“I know it was an accident, and that you’re going to be okay now,” Carlos finally mumbles into his neck, “but I was so fucking scared that I had lost you there for a minute. I’ve never seen Michelle so intense before, and I really thought this was it.”

“I know, baby, I know,” TK says, trailing his fingers along the back of Carlos’s neck. He digs his nails in just a bit, knowing that the feeling will help ground Carlos. Sure enough, his husband shivers against him, letting out a shaky breath. “You didn’t lose me, though. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” Carlos asks weakly.

“Babe, look at me,” TK says, pulling his head back to look down at him. Carlos’s eyes are red-rimmed, his face puffy from crying so much today. He looks so small, so cut open and raw, that TK wishes he could take all of his pain away. “I promise that I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you in one piece at the end of every day, okay?”

Carlos nods, his eyes falling closed. TK stares at his long, gorgeous eyelashes now soaked with tears. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to each eyelid, feeling the way that Carlos relaxes further into his side. 

“I’m sorry that our bath plans got ruined for this evening,” he says after a few minutes, recalling their conversation from this morning. 

“That’s okay,” Carlos says, his fingers lightly tracing TK’s collarbone through his hospital gown. “Once I get you home, I’m probably never going to let you leave again, so there will be plenty of time for baths.”

TK laughs, ignoring the pain when Carlos joins him. “I like the sound of that,” he admits.

Their gazes lock for a moment before Carlos presses up until their lips meet, the kiss igniting a fire inside of him from head to toe. It doesn’t matter how many times he gets to kiss Carlos, TK thinks that each one feels new and different and life-affirming, his body and soul practically singing at the chance to connect with his husband in a way that no one else can. That no one else ever will.

It’s something that he knows he’ll never get tired of for as long as he lives.

Which will be a very, very long time.

He’s sure of it.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

[bisexual-horror-fan]

bex im watching dream warriors rn which has been my fav anoes movie since i was a kid and i need to know what your fav is??

Ayyyy Joah! Love this question! So!

ALSO DREAM WARRIORS!

I love the setting, the kids, the kills, the true start of his one liners. Freddy using the kids mental health issues and attempting to make it look like they are killing themselves to throw doubt on him and further isolate the kids, adding on to their fear, helplessness and having the adults in their lives further not believe what is really happening or trust them.

This is the movie we really start to see Freddy becoming Freddy to me, I think his character really finds his feet in this one.

Also the return of our QUEEN Nancy Thompson, may she rest in peace, like the movie is just great and to me gives everything you want out of a good ANOES movie.

Good kids you actually actively wanna root for, a cool setting, awesome deaths, some deeper meaning, good dream fuckery and manipulation and Freddy being a massive dick and a funny dude. Really its got it all.

My personal favorite part/kill is when Phillip looks like he is going to kill himself by jumping off the roof, in actuality Freddy is using his ligements like puppet strings to control him in the dream and force him to do this. And Joey and Will spot him making the attempt, Will is confined to his wheelchair and wouldn't be quick enough and Joey is too traumatized to talk so this kid does one of the biggest brained moves I've ever seen. He runs out of the room, grabs this tray the nurse at a desk is having her dinner on and uses that to bang on everyone's doors to get their attention and lead them back to the window where Will is.

I love this moment so much. It's one of my faves in the series just the kill with the emotion and Joey's quick thinking and the helplessness and anguish of the kids unable to do anything but watch Phillip's demise.

Amazing movie truly.

And also I have a massive love of Feddy VS Jason but that is whole other post tbh.

[madd-information]

Have you watched Kati Morton's new video about Maladaptive Daydreaming? What do you think about it?

[intro]

For years, I believed maladaptive daydreaming to be a form of dissociation, but it could also be added to the DSM as its own diagnosis, since it does have its own set of unique symptoms. Either way, at this time maladaptive daydreaming is not listed in the DSM as a diagnosable mental illness.

I was concerned because her last couple videos on the topic were very confusing to watch and seemed to conflate MD with the inner-worlds of DID.  It looks like she has done some more research on it and is going to make a more informed video. This is great and I deeply appreciate that she’s taking the time to do a proper dive into this. 

The closest diagnosis would be DPDR, or depersonalization derealization disorder. And this is the diagnosis given to those of us who struggle with dissociation. [explanation of DPDR]

Gonna need you to source that Katie, I’ve never heard an MD researcher say something like this.  When they talk about MD they call it a behavioral addiction with OCD features which is related to dissociative absorption (different from derealization and depersonalization, these two dissociative experiences are not particularly significant in MD, though they can happen.)

These experiences are extremely common. It's estimated that half of all adults have had at least one episode of DPDR. 50% of people. That is a huge amount of people.

Cool but not sure it’s at all relevant to the video topic. 

Also, it's important to mention that in 2016, four researchers put together the Maladaptive Daydreaming Scale, or MDS. This is a 14-item self-reported scale, meaning that you as the patient answers 14 questions based on your own maladaptive daydreaming experience.

It’s a 16 item scale now, it was changed very early on and has been 16 for years.  This is a very small and forgivable knitpick, just fyi. 

The MDS focuses on the content of our daydreams, how intense the urge to continue daydreaming is, and how much it impairs our ability to function in our lives, and the benefits and costs of our daydreaming. I am not personally familiar with this scale, nor have I used it in my practice, but I've linked the research article in the description if you wanna learn more about it.

A good description, and here’s that link again for anyone who wants to read about the finer details of this scale. 

When it comes to maladaptive daydreaming, it isn't just feeling out of body or environment. We can create very intense and detailed daydreams with plots, characters, and very lifelike issues and storylines. Some people will get the plots for their daydreams from their real lives, while others can create a utopian place unlike their current experience.

Yep, decent overview of content, though content doesn’t matter that much.  Also, use of “we”.  Is Katie Morton an MDer or was this a creative choice?  I don’t know, just a passing thought. 

We can find ourselves staying in these daydreams for various amounts of time. And some of my patients have reported staying in them for hours. And many of you have let me know that you struggle to get out of them at all, spending days in this other life that we've created.

Yep, good overview, but more importantly she’s listening to her patients and the feedback of MDers in her audience.

...there are many causes for this, and the first I wanna address is trauma triggers. If we've experienced a trauma in our life, things that remind us of that time or situation can pull us into a flashback, cause us to dissociate, or in many cases push us into our maladaptive daydreams.

When our brain and the rest of our nervous system feels overwhelmed and unable to deal with what's going on in the moment, it can pull us out of our current situation through dissociation. I always talk about that, like our brain pulling the ripcord. And it can also utilize maladaptive daydreaming. It's a way to cope or get through an overwhelming situation when we don't have other skills to help calm our nervous system down. So we just rely on what we know, and that can be daydreaming or dissociating. It's almost like this coping skill protects us from having to feel traumatized again and so it takes us away, you know, drops us into a much safer and happier place.

Trauma is always talked about first when people do overviews of MD.  She’s not wrong but just to add more information;  about a quarter of MDers report trauma, the other 75(ish)% don’t.  It’s a significant number but trauma is not the only pathway to MD.  Sometimes people walk away from these videos feeling like “well, I don’t have any trauma, maybe I don’t really have MD”.  That’s not a comment on what Katie has presented, she does go into other things below, just adding on.

Another cause or trigger can be high levels of stress or anxiety. We can slowly feel ourselves become more and more overwhelmed until our brain pulls us out of our reality and into a new one, aka our maladaptive daydreams. In short, we can want to stay in these daydreams to feel better and safer, but it can get in the way of us functioning in our life.

Yep

[audience anecdotes]

...Which is why even the term maladaptive daydreaming is used. Maladaptive means it's not providing adequate or appropriate adjustment to the environment or situation. So the daydreaming is only holding off the bad things. It's not actually making anything better or helping us process any of the upset. It's really just a temporary check-out, which can be helpful sometimes, but if it's happening all the time or making it hard for us to focus at work, school, or with our friends and family, we should find other, better ways to cope.

Exactly.

Which moves us into how we can better cope so that we don't get sucked into our daydreams for hours, days, or even weeks. And first up is mindfulness. Now, I know that term is overused now and super annoying but in order for us to know when we even need to use other coping skills, we have to know when the daydreaming urges are happening. So often we aren't aware of what we were feeling or thinking until it's too late and we're already pulled into our daydream. And at that point it's more difficult or even impossible for us to pull ourselves out. Therefore, we have to start being more aware of what we're going through.

[continues explanation]

Perfection.

And so next is figuring out ways to calm our system down. This can take the form of a distraction technique like going for a walk or organizing a part of our home, coloring, watching a show, playing a video game, you name it. These calming things could also be more process-based, things like journaling or talking to your therapist or a friend about it, or even using an impulse log. [Continues with calming things]

Good examples, MD researchers specifically recommend keeping a log.

We're also going to have to find some coping skills that we can use when we're starting to feel overwhelmed and wanting to go back into the daydream. Maybe we hold an ice cube in our hands, clap our hands, count the number of things in the room that are blue, brown, black… whatever works for you, do it.

Good stuff. 

And it's okay for something not to work. We just have to try it to know and then move on to something else.

Important point to make, happy to see this. 

Once we have a few things that work, write them down in your phone or on a post-it note so that you can see it and be reminded when you need it. We will also need to come up with some ways to pull ourselves out of the daydream. And I know this is gonna be harder and we may even wanna call upon helpful and supportive people in our lives to assist us.

Good advise. 

We could, because it's our daydream, right, we could put a big door in our daydream and we can choose to go through it and pull ourselves out, or have people in the daydream that remind us of our real life and tell us to go back.

A good suggestion.  Q, on the Parallel Lives Podcast (I can’t remember which episode off the top of my head), did something like this by turning to his characters and saying “ok, take 5 guys, we’ll pick it up at xtime”, and many people have found that to be a clever and helpful method. 

Now, I know this is really, really hard… which rolls into my final tip, which is to work with a therapist to heal from the trauma or to learn how to better cope with the anxiety or stress we're feeling. Working to heal or process through the reason our maladaptive daydreaming exists in the first place will ensure that we don't need it anymore.

Absolutely seek professional support if you can. 

... if we heal the issue we're struggling to cope with, the urge to use those unhelpful coping skills will go away altogether.

[outro]

I think this last point will frighten a lot of MDers.  It’s probably the brevity of the video that didn’t allow her to really expand on this, and I certainly don’t want to put words into her mouth that she may not have intended.  Don’t be afraid of losing your MD.  “Curing” Maladaptive Daydreaming does not mean “I’ll never see my world again.”  You’ll always have the capacity to daydream like this, you were born this way, but it *doesn’t* have to be maladaptive. Like overeating, you will never not eat, you will fix your relationship with food. 

Good video overall, brief but accurate and includes the standard helpful advise. 

[pipedream-parrish]

Happy 34th birthday, Twinyards

read on AO3

i

It is Aaron’s 14th birthday and he has just found out that he has a brother - a twin brother, an identical twin brother, who looks exactly like him and might just understand him, too. His mom didn’t do anything for his birthday - she hasn’t since he was little, or maybe those long-forgotten memories were really just dreams that have managed to worm their way so deep into his psyche that he’s accepted them as truth. The kids at school sang to him, which was fine, but Aaron can’t help but think maybe now it will be different. Maybe once he meets this brother of his, then they can celebrate their birthdays together. Maybe they can give each other presents, and eat cake, and blow out the candles using the combined forces of their breath. Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

(Andrew spends this birthday choking down cake that Cas got him, trying to hide the fresh marks on his arm, and thinking about the best way to keep his mysterious brother as far away from him as possible)

((one month later, Aaron receives a letter in the mail. He couldn’t tell you everything it said - he just knows that all of these maybes have just been thrown into the middle of a busy highway to be crushed under uncaring tires.))

ii

Its Aaron’s 15th birthday and his mother has celebrated by beating the shit out of him and then throwing a random assortment of pills from the bottom of her purse in his direction as an apology, and Aaron cannot help but think that maybe it won’t have to be like this anymore. He thinks about what Andrew said (Andrew, who really does look just like him, and who seemed so angry about Tilda, and seemed to believe that Aaron didn’t deserve, that he deserved good things--) had said to him, thinks about how maybe when Andrew moves his mom will stop it, maybe it’ll be alright, maybe nothing will hurt anymore and everything will be okay and he’ll have a brother. It’ll be the two of them against the world, and Aaron may not know this other boy all that well, but he promised to protect him, so that must mean something, right? Even if before that he said he didn’t want anything to do with Aaron, he changed his mind, and thats what matters, right? Right? And so when Aaron blows out the birthday candles that he bought for himself at eh convenience store the night before, he wishes for his brother to come home soon, and for them to be a family like they were supposed to be. Like he deserves.

((Six months later, Tilda is dead and Aaron has stopped believing in family.))

iii

It is Andrews’s 16th birthday and he has not spoken more than two words to his brother for most of the year, but Nicky tries to force them to do something, to celebrate, to be normal teenagers for once. Andrew leaves halfway through the elaborate dinner that Nicky has prepared, and pretends not to see the sad look he aims at his retreating back. Pretends that he doesn’t care what Nicky thinks of him, what Aarons thinks of him. Pretends that he stopped caring about Cass, that actually he didn’t care about that, either. Pretends and pretends and pretends, and convinces everyone but himself. 

((He’s not so great at lying to himself yet. He’ll get better with age.)) 

Late that night, after he’s heard everyone else going to bed, he sneaks downstairs and steals a slice of the double-chocolate cake that Nicky got them. There are already a couple of slices out from where Nicky and Aaron had some, so hopefully, this moment of weakness will go unnoticed. 

(Aaron spends his 16th birthday sad and mourning, refusing to look his brother in the eye. When he blows out the birthday candles with no help from a magical brother, he wishes that he never met Andrew in the first place. Not that he believes in magic or wishes or anything good at all, anymore. He barely has a bite of his cake before leaving the table. He, too, pretends not to see Nicky’s teary eyes as he leaves him standing alone in the kitchen, the remnants of a wasted attempt at love scattered all around him)

((he, too, is not so great at lying to himself yet. He, too, will get better with age))

(Nevertheless, when he hears Andrew come downstairs in the dead of night, he creeps into the hallway to watch his petty theft)

((He never mentions it.))

iv

It is Andrew’s 17th birthday and he is so high off the ground that he never even realizes the date.

Or maybe he does and just forgets.

The meds are still new, and he’s not used to them yet. Not used to the loudness, and brightness, and plastered on a smile. His cheeks hurt all the time now - he is constantly working muscles that have not had much use, the last couple of years 

(the last couple of lifetimes)

Needless to say, it is Andrew’s 17th birthday and he does not even realize it, and instead, he spends it in his room, his precious room that has a lock that works, coming apart at all his frying edges. Boys like him were never meant to grow old. Boys like him were never meant to last. And so he lays there and shakes uncontrollably, and laughs, too, tells himself this is fine, he’s fine it’s all fine and knows better than to believes it. Perhaps it is a mercy, that he eventually gets used to the meds. 

Perhaps it is not.

(Aaron doesn’t celebrate his birthday, either. Instead, he picks up extra shifts at Edens and goes to bed early. 

He cannot wait to leave this fucking house)

v

It is Aaron’s 18th birthday, meaning that he is a legal adult. He finds this funny. He has always been an adult; he was an adult when he was four and creeping across the house on silent feet to steal crackers from the pantry because mom forgot to feed him; he was an adult when he was 10 and forging his mothers signature on school papers, and making excuses for why she couldn’t come into parent-teacher conference night; he was an adult when he was sitting across from his reflection in a juvenile detention facility, and promised protection. One more birthday doesn’t mean shit.

(Andrew agrees. He, too, has been an adult for as long as he can remember.)

((Still, when Nicky slips cards under each of their doors wishing them a happy birthday and telling them he’s proud of them, and that he hopes that adulthood treats them right, well. If Aaron squeezes his eyes shut as hard as he can to prevent the tears from escaping, and if Andrew tares it up into a million pieces because it almost makes him feel something, then no one needs to know))

vi

It is November 4th, and the newly-coined monsters are in Columbia, just like they are most weekends. They make the same stops as always, go to the same club, the same restaurant. 

Never once is the word birthday mentioned.

vii

It is Andrew’s 20th birthday and he is about to make one of the worst mistakes of his life. For now, he sits against the windowsill, watching his smoke dissipate into the afternoon air, absently listening to the sounds of Nicky and Aaron’s video game wash over him. He’s grinning, as is usually is these days, and if he was capable of having a long-lasting coherent thought, he would want to carve that grin off his face.

Alas, he is not capable of long-lasting coherent thought. Oh well. Perhaps it’s for the best.

Renee got him a gift. Silly Renee. Always so nice, so kind, even to monsters like him. Hasn’t she learned better than that by now? It seems not.

When Nicky receives a phone call that leaves him in a panic, it is almost enough to garner Andrew’s attention. 

Almost.

When he leaves the room in a rush only to come beach with Neil, the enigma, the hallucination, the rabbit, in tow behind him, Andrew actually does start to pay attention. Only a little though. 

When Neil pulls him aside, and asks for the unimaginable, and then manages to make it seem like a good idea, well. Andrew’s interest has been peaked, and he agrees. Why not? It might be fun. Might be, might be, might be.

(It’s not. It’s not fun at all, and if nothing else then Andrew is finally allowed to leave that smile behind for good. Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Andrew, happy birthday to me!)

((Aaron spends his birthday playing video games and wondering why the new kid holds such sway over his brother. When he looks back on that day, he will not remember any of that. He will only remember that that was the day everything went wrong, and he was unable to fix it.))

viii

It is Andrew’s 21st birthday, and it might just be a good one. No alarm wakes him up in the morning, even though he’s sure he set it last night, meaning he gets to sleep in. When he wakes up it’s to Neil bustling about the dorm room, clearly searching for something.

“Practice?” Andrew asks and is told in no uncertain terms that they will be blowing it off for the day. Yes, today is shaping up to be a good one.

Instead, they go out driving, blazing down empty roads as fast as the mas will take them, eating up millage and gas money and caring at all. Neil rolls down the window and lets out victorious whoops into the still afternoon, the wind flushing his cheeks and tousling his hair. Andrew almost thinks something disgustingly sappy about that but is able to rain in his own brain just in time. 

They got greasy diner food for lunch, and Andrew orders a massive ice cream Sunday that Neil doesn’t comment on. They go back to Fox Tower and lounge around their dorm, kissing and smoking and playing video games. They have pancakes for dinner, and Kevin doesn’t bother them once about going to tonight’s practice. Andrew goes to bed full and sated, and almost, almost, happy. It’s a good birthday.

((the next day at therapy, Aaron complains that he didn’t get to skip practice yesterday. Andrew shrugs and says that he should take notes for next year. It’s almost an invitation. Almost, but not quite.))

ix

It is Aarons’s 22nd birthday, and he takes a leaf out of Andrew’s book and skips practice. He and Katelyn drive into town, and walk up and down the streets, popping into stores at random and picking out delightfully ugly things for the other to buy. In one shop, Katelyn shows Aaron a shirt made from a disgusting green fabric with the gaudiest floral pattern he’s ever seen. In another, Aaron finds shimmering, sparkle filled pink and purple shoes with a six-inch heel. They both nearly get sick from laughing. That night, they go out to the fanciest restaurant they can afford and get wine drunk. Aaron tells Katelyn that he loves her, which is something that he’s told her a million times before, but that doesn’t stop it from mattering. This will always matter. She will always matter. He looks at her, just looks at her, and thinks about how lucky he is to have this. And he thinks about Andrew, just for a second, curses him for keeping her from Aaron. But then, for an even shorter second, the thought occurs to him. I hope he’s as happy right now with Neil as I am with her. 

((Andrew may not show it the same way, but he is. He is.))

x

It is their 25 birthday now (which it longer than either of them thought they would live), and after years of therapy and working through their issues, Aaron has decided once again that he wants a brother. And so he books a flight to Boston, and buys a ticket to Andrews game, and watches his brother play exy on their birthday. Their birthday. Sometimes he still forgets that they are a “they” now. He'll still say my birthday, my mom, my cousin, my family. But it's not just his, and so he meets Andrew at the player’s exit after the game and forces him to go to dinner with him. And they spend their birthday together, just the two of them, for the first time since they were born. And its-

Well, it’s not bad. It's kind of nice, actually. Stilted, at first, and undoubtedly awkward, but. 

But they’re still brothers, even after everything. They share family and history and most of their DNA, so it seems right that they also share a dinner. And they talk, about Andrew’s pro team and Aarons residency, and about halfway through Aaron realizes that even though he was the one who forced this, Andrew isn’t trying to stop it. He came with him to dinner, and he’s talked more in the last hour then Aaron thinks he ever has before, and Aaron realizes that he wants this too. Andrew wants a brother too. They part ways outside - Andrew doesn’t offer to drive him back to his hotel or to let him stay at his apartment, but that’s ok.

Because Andrew wants this too. 

Andrew wants this too.

epilogue 

It is the Minyard twins’ 34th birthday, and as has become a tradition they are each awoken by a phone call from Nicky. Aaron only grumbles for a moment before Katelyn is handing his phone to him and he’s picking up. Andrew takes longer, turning over and burying his face in Neil’s neck for a second or a minute or a year, before finally grabbing his phone. To be fair, it’s about 2 hours earlier for him than for his brother. When he was younger he would hang up, and Nicky would call back, and he’d hang up again, until around the third call when he would finally give in and answer and phone. He doesn’t hang up anymore. He supposes that he’s grown. It’s a facetime call, so he’s greeted with Nicky’s over-enthusiastic smile and Aarons bedhead that looks so much like his own. He props himself up on some pillows so that he’s nearly in a sitting position, and gives a halfhearted wave. Beside him, Neil stays lying down, curling himself into Andrew’s side. Andrew absently starts carding his fingers through his hair. Nicky starts to talk, telling them about the business, and the adoption process, and the cute thing that his and Erik’s dog did. King jumps up onto Andrew’s chest, and then there’s a lot of cooing over how cute she is. She starts to lick at Andrew’s temple, which makes everyone laugh and Andrew rolls his eyes. It’s ok. He doesn’t really mind. Aaron talks about the hospital, and then his toddler (who is really more of a kid now, she’s getting so big holy shit) bursts into the room, climbing up onto the bed. She says hi to her Uncle Andy (Neil taught her to say that when she was a baby, and it tuck. Again, Andrew doesn’t really mind) and Uncle Neil, and her cousins Nicky and Erik. they talk more, Andrew waking up and partaking in the conversion, occasionally mouthing things to Neil in Russian to make him laugh. He loves it when Neil laughs (he’s not so concerned with not thinking sappy things anymore).

It’s a good start to a good day. They order take out and eat it on the floor, just like they do every year. Neil gets him a cake, and he sings happy birthday, just like they do every year. 

A plane ride away, Aaron and Katelyn hire a babysitter and go out to dinner, just like they do every year. Katelyn gets him a loudly collared tie, just like she does every year.

It’s a good day for both boys (who are now much closer to men), but more than that, it is a good day for both brothers. For that is undoubtedly what they are now. Brothers. 

That night, they both get a text from Betsy. It says Happy birthday, my lovely boys. I hope this year treats you well. 

And then it does.

It does.

thanks for reading! if you reblog i’ll love you forever :)

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/29/21

i read part of a book, the reading section is no longer fallow, we have planted and sown some sort of crop

listening venus fly trap by MARINA. a dear mutual whose post i cannot find and i do not want to tag in case i am misquoting her called her latest lyrics “preachy” and i gotta agree? this one is almost but not quite a fun throwback to electra heart era. whereas that album was very much about watching “weaponized femininity” and a persona crumble around you, this is more of a mean-girl single designed to get your attention on the rest of the album. “why be a wallflower/when you can be/a venus fly trap” is an inherently delightful line.

because i take a week off from this project every december, one week’s listening gets doubled up. glass animals’ mama’s gun gets on here bc it is perfectly engineered to stick in the back of my brain. i love a layered, kind of cluttered instrumental backdrop. the chimey-chimes! the sad woodwind! i don’t know that i particularly care for the lyrics or the people in the internet arguing about whether this song is about drugs or schizophrenia (the band said it’s about drugs, don’t be terrible to people with schizophrenia)

reading here is a stab at the beginning of a post, bc i fully intended to finish this book sunday night and then. didn’t.

i’m trying to walk a fine line between pointing out things i find irritating and taking an older work for what it was at the time but tumblr is not known for its reading comprehension so i am belaboring some points and being more diplomatic with my word choice than if i were jawing about this book with friends. i read The Drowned World by JG Ballard as one of my first forays into the adult (shut up) fiction section at the library. there are some lines that have stuck in my brain for more than ten years, such as (describing sailing over a city under sixty feet of water) “...like a reflection in a lake that has somehow lost its original.” i’m a sucker for “sad man on the bleeding edge of civilization holes up in a once-grand building with looted bits and bobs”. i think it’s good set dressing and i love a poor little meow meow. 

@morrak​ kindly offered me a pretty vintage hardcover that came in the mail a few weeks ago and i finally had time to crack it open. i draft these posts on sunday, and this sunday it comes to you from my phone in my landlord’s backyard, where a hammock really isn’t helping with the ninety-two degree heat and fifty-eight percent humidity. a good backdrop for reading about the earth remembering it used to mostly be a big swamp.

i typed a very long draft that ended up being mostly “wow kay you’re saying a novel written in the 60s is worried about the destruction of the world but in a dreamy and kind of sexist way with a tenuous relationship with reality at best?” yes. that’s just how old sci fi is sometimes and we can point out how parts of it don’t hold up for a modern audience while talking about the parts we do like.

for example, it takes a lot of its flavor and style from late-1800s harder scifi about hidden worlds/a changing world due to industrialization (think Journey to the Center of the Earth, or any novel about a secret paradise at the South Pole, or Erewhon). it is, instead, a softer scifi mostly concerned about the effects of living through a disaster that isn’t your fault and couldn’t be prevented, and what staring at constant ruin (no matter how beautiful!) and isolation does to a guy’s brain (as opposed to “harder” scifi like a lot of Verne’s work or Liu Cixin’s The Three-Body Problem that are really interested in how future technology might realistically work). i personally don’t think it’s a meaningful remix of these early altered-world novels, or at least i personally don’t find it terribly compelling in this particular aspect. women in late-1800s scifi either don’t exist at all or exist to be rescued from primitive humans so the author could write about some cool guns killing people. Beatrice thedrownedworld is in fact a catalyst for part of the book, but she does not feel like a real person, whereas Robert thedrownedworld feels like most of the professors ive had. poor bea, trapped in a sixties novel only to look pretty, be negged, and serve as a psychosexual metaphor. i have a pet theory that if you fuck in an older dystopia (like older horror) you die, but i don’t really have enough data points to separate it from standard misogyny just yet.

but at the same time, it’s such an interesting example of an apocalypse that isn’t humans’ fault. the earth is just doing some fucked-up shit for a while, and we might as well go see what’s up. in a lot of earlier scifi, the earth is just doing some fucked-up shit in the polar regions and we might as well go see what’s up.

sidebar, bc i’m me: in late-1800s scifi there’s some fun brotherly love/camraderie among the protagonists that you could put an interesting queer reading on (ask me about my Professor Arronax-twentythousandleaguesunderthesea-is-trans-theory) but Robert thedrownedworld is extremely straight. also like most of the professors ive had.

this is a book i’m fond of for its place in my life at a particular time and some really good imagery. sometimes on a sunday afternoon you read a short novel that does an excellent job of telling the story it set out to tell, and that’s enough.

watching the L0ki show. d/isney for once did not queerbait me, i do find their budget and attention to detail in costuming and set dressing excellent, and i do love an unapologetically not very nice woman. from previous experience with this particular flavor of #content this particular company puts out, i do not think it will hold my interest for a full season. also i am unable to read TVA as anything but Tennessee Valley Authority but that’s a different post

playing fallow week due to NDA

making lots of cleaning and packing and move-prepping. bought a fuckton of future textile crimes at various yard sales, which need to be frozen bc im inherently suspicious of old yarn and i’ll be fucking damned if i bring carpet beetles or moths into a new place. bug-free zone in the new place goddamnit

[slashthedice]

I’m not sure if you would count this as a request (just ignore it if you do) but how old do you think all the dead by daylight killers are?

Not at all! This is a really good question! I hope it’s alright if I only do the original killers since most of the licensed ones have established canon ages. These are just my thoughts based on what I got out of the character’s lore and the lore of their associated maps.

Evan MacMillan - The Trapper: 30-35 years old

The first age we hear discussed for Evan is 14 in the Archives (yes, I know I dislike and mostly ignore the horrible retconning the Archives do, but sometimes they offer a good baseline). Based on the lore and the appearance of his unmasked character model, I would place him in his early to mid thirties.

Philip Ojomo - The Wraith: 24-27 years old

I believe that Philip was probably young when he moved to Canada, maybe between the ages on 19-23. It seems like he worked for Autohaven Wreckers for quite some time before he found out the awful things that were going on and he had unwittingly been apart of, but I would still guess that he was fairly young.

Max Thompson Jr. - The Hillbilly: 20-25 years old

Max is absolutely still relatively young. I would say he’s probably similar in age to Philip. I headcanon that the Entity “spoke” to Max for a long time before he finally killed his parents, easily influencing his thoughts and feelings since his parents had never nurtured him in any meaningful way. The Entity would want him in his prime, but I’m not sure if his physical condition affects his health in any way, and if it would affect his lifespan, so the Entity may have taken him while he was still young.

Sally Smithson - The Nurse: 40-48 years old

So, we know that Sally was married before she went to Crotus Prenn. We also know that based on the style of her nursing uniform she was likely working sometime between the years of 1895 and about 1910, so I would guess that (based on trends of the time) that she was married in her twenties, likely early to mid. Her lore states that she worked at Crotus Prenn for two decades, which would put her somewhere in her forties.

Lisa Sherwood - The Hag: 25-35 years old

Because of the connotations of her title as “hag” and the Grandma’s Cookbook offering, I always thought of Lisa as being older. However, as I take a closer look at her lore, it seems to me that she may be much younger than I originally would have guessed. The cookbook belonged to the family of cannibals that kidnapped her, it was not her own. Her lore also mentions “the elders” who taught her the symbols, on which basis I would guess Lisa is not apart of those considered to be elders, meaning she’s at the very least not elderly. There is also no mention of Lisa having any family. She’s a difficult one, and if I knew from where she was heading home when she was kidnapped I might have better insight, but I would say that she could be anywhere from mid-twenties to thirties.

Herman Carter - The Doctor: 31-40 years old

So the first thing we are told about Herman in his lore is that he was published in high school and then fast tracked into the advanced neuroscience program at Yale within the year, likely making him 18 or 19 at the time. He was then transferred to Léry's Memorial Institute where he was trained and mentored by Stamper, which I’m guessing took place over a span of time that was likely a few years. Based on this I’m guessing that he was between the ages of 24-27 when he was given his own office/experiment space and Project Awakening was approved. It’s stated that over the years he became known as The Doctor. I’m not sure for how long Herman worked within the bounds of the MK Ultra project, but since I’m assuming his use of ECT and Project Awakening are based on the Montreal Experiments which took place between 1957 and 1964 I think it would be safe to posit a timeline of 7 years which would place Herman somewhere between 31 and 34, although I believe he may be as old as 40 based upon renderings of his character model without the headgear and the real life ages at the time of those heading projects within the CIA funded MK Ultra.

Anna - The Huntress: 23-25 years old

So, I had hoped to find more information about Anna from the origins of her lullaby, but unfortunately I could find little information about its origin. We know that she was very young when her mother was killed, I’m guessing between the ages of 7 and 10. It’s stated that she “got older and stronger and practised her hunt”. By that time I would have to guess she was between 16 and 18. Once she began to hunt humans, she had to have time to collect multiple little girls and unfortunately watch them die, putting her (by my best guess) between 21 and 23. Her lore then describes German soldiers coming into her territory which I believe would have been in 1916 and that she disappeared by the end of the war which was 1918 (unless we’re talking Russia’s exit from WW1 which I believe was in 1917). That means that by the time the Entity took her, she was 25 at the oldest.

Kenneth Chase - The Clown: 58-61 years old

For some reason my brain is telling me that Kenneth is 61, but I can’t find anything concrete to support that. So here’s what we know definitively: Kenneth was born in 1932, and he left home in 1954 when his father found his collection and he was 22. He then integrated himself into a traveling circus where he stayed for the next decade, putting him at 32 years old. After that he roamed and acted as a parasite until the Entity took him. However, a clue comes in the form of his VHS add on. The distribution of pornography on VHS tapes was popularized in the 1980′s, which means he was at least 48 when he acquired said tape, though its description as “an all time classic” leads me to believe that he had it for a decent stretch of time. So I would probably place him between the ages of 58 and my original guess of 61.

Rin Yamaoka - The Spirit: 20-22 years old

Rin is stated to be attending a private university at the time of her father’s mental break and attack on both her and her mother. There had to have been time for the bills to pile up between her university costs and her mother’s health expenses, which leads me to believe that she had been attending classes for at least a couple years. This would place her between the ages of 20 and 22.

Frank, Julie, Susie, Joey - The Legion: 19 (Frank) & 18 (Julie, Susie, and Joey)

I’ve discussed this one before, but I base my HC for the ages of the Legion based on Frank’s canonically established aged, and the devs stating that all of their characters are over the age of 18.

Adiris - The Plague: 19-22 years old

I could talk about Adiris for hours, but I’ll try to keep this one short. Adiris’s lore states that when she came of age she attended to the priests that were performing rituals and services to worship the Sea-Goat. Chronological age was not of particular importance to Babylonians so on the basis that “coming of age” is used in reference to a time when a young woman is ready to be married, I referred to Martha T. Roth’s paper Age at Marriage and the Household: A Study of Neo-BabyIonian and Neo-Assyrian Form and concluded that Adiris would likely have been between the ages of 15-18. After this, Adiris assisted in many rituals and cleansings as plague spread through the city of Babylon. I’m guessing that it was a couple years before all of the priests at the Temple of Purgation were unable to continue their duties leaving Adiris as the only one able to carry on. She would have needed time to amass her devoted followers and treat them before she herself began to show signs of infection. She then went to great lengths in an attempt to purge the plague from her body, which would have taken time. By the time of her self-imposed exile and subsequent death, I would place her between 19 and 22.

Kazan Yamaoka - The Oni: Thirties

I admittedly have not had as much time to do research and develop a concrete headcanon for Kazan’s age, but there are a few bits of his lore that can help to formulate a basic age range. We know for a fact that Kazan was married and had a son, and that his son was old enough to climb and play in order for him to have his accident. Based upon this and renderings of the Oni without his mask, I would guess that he’s in his thirties.

Caleb Quinn - The Deathslinger: 44-48 years old

Caleb is another character that I have not spent very much time with. In his lore, the only set amount of time that we are made aware of is the 15 years in which he was imprisoned, and then the six years in which he led the Hellshire gang. That’s at least 21 years of his adult life. I’m assuming that Caleb was a young adult when he first began working for Bayshore (probably between the ages of 18 and 21). It would have taken time for Caleb to create his inventions, and then for Bayshore to sell the designs and for those designs to be put into production. I’d guess sometime between 5 and 6 years, which would put him at 23 at the youngest when he attempted to kill Bayshore. He then spent 15 years in prison, and then 6 years heading the Hellshire gang. Therefore, I believe that he is at youngest 44 and at oldest 48.

Again, these are just my opinions and interpretations of the lore with which we have been presented, and I would be thrilled to hear any other ideas and headcanons!

[just-otter-thoughts]

I posted 8,848 times in 2021

1679 posts created (19%)

7169 posts reblogged (81%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.3 posts.

I added 243 tags in 2021

#important - 44 posts

#billie eilish - 32 posts

#music - 28 posts

#happier than ever - 26 posts

#yes - 23 posts

#half life - 21 posts

#writing - 20 posts

#mason takes meds - 18 posts

#gay - 16 posts

#guitar hero - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#completely not a a professional and also don't have as much gramatical knowledge of the english language as i do of the portuguese language

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

@dopaminerjic here <3

40 notes • Posted 2021-10-31 20:54:39 GMT

#4

Everyone that says "omg I wish my parents had forced me to become a child star" gets 10 minutes in the time-out corner.

You do not want the life of a child star. Do they make money? Yes, but that becomes their doom. These child stars are overworked to all hell and engage in activities (especially "in character") that are very much unhealthy for them both physically and mentally. Most big children's studios are borderline with child labor laws and some outright break them.

Trigger Warning here for rape, child abuse, eating disorders, violence/gore and substance abuse.

The Toddler-to-Trainwreck pipeline is something very real that happens to most if not all child stars because they sacrifice their childhood to support their family in trying times, or simply because their parents want to make money out of them. In one scene, they're playing and singing and dancing. In the other scene? Their characters are being severely abused, raped, and saying unspeakable things for naturally "shocking" projects. An example is Jennette McCurdy, who before doing her playful iCarly character, was playing one of the most complex (and accurately portrayed) child abuse cases in SVU History: Holly Purcell in S6 E11 "Contagious".

That episode was severely gut-wrenching. She was crying, saying "he touched me!" testifying in court, and you're telling me a child was involved in the creation of that monstrousness? And then only two years later, she'd portray Sam Puckett? What the hell?!

If children are advised against consuming that type of content, do you really think it's any better for them to be involved in its creation? To cry like that and say horrible things take after take after take? It can't be healthy for a child to portray all those things. A child's brain can't separate the real from the fake, and even though there are techniques or whatever, they're still saying those things. And kids know, you might not think they do but they know. Jennette knew what it meant to "have been touched" and she didn't have to.

And don't get me started on the evil kid characters. According to the producers of "Orphan", Isabelle Fuhrman was "playing around" on set, but outright stabbing people? Breaking her own arm? Setting the treehouse on fire? Wearing those clothes as a nine year old? Yeah, I don't think that was "playing".

And the music ones, oh God. Demi Lovato had serious cocaine issues and multiple ODs. All of One Direction had serious mental health issues and two of them had serious (I mean serious) eating disorders. Jennette McCurdy also had an eating disorder. The cast of all DanWarp shows from the early 2010s was abused by Dan himself, either by "showing their feet" on camera or just creepy actions by Dan.

It's a reality that is dangerous and not worth losing your childhood for. So please, be thankful that your parents didn't force you to work like a mid-20s adult when you were 7. Because you may not even make it to your 20s.

89 notes • Posted 2021-05-19 11:11:23 GMT

#3

😳

285 notes • Posted 2021-11-08 10:25:45 GMT

#2

Portal 2 was released 10 years ago today!

510 notes • Posted 2021-04-18 17:34:11 GMT

#1

i am physically unable to stop watching the montero music video. just... the sexualization, it's something I've wanted to see for men for so god damn long. in that music video lil nas isn't being "a hot guy", he isn't just posing to the camera. he's activelly being sexy and dancing and doing sexy things and talking about those sexy things, just like women have been doing for so long. oh AND it's gay which makes it 10x better.

802 notes • Posted 2021-03-31 01:32:21 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[sp00kworm]

Home in Your Heart (Saint-14 x Female Reader)

Pairing: Saint-14 x Female Reader 

Warnings: Adult Content beneath the cut, Robot Romance, Robot x Human Romance and made up Exo anatomy. 

A/N: Thanks to a special friend for reading this through for me. I would be lost without that help for these giant pieces I end up getting myself into. I hope this is fun for people to read!

---

Saint watched from the tower wall as the pigeons fluttered up into the rafters above him. The Hangar was quiet this time of night, even with the last dregs of the Vanguard returning from missions out beyond the safety of the Last City and its walls. The Exo watched the pigeons huddle closer, cooing softly as they readied to bed down for the night, and smiled up at the birds. They were one of the things he loved about the city. They ignored him as he cocked his gun and set to unscrewing panels and readying pieces of cloth for cleaning. The Perfect Paradox. A weapon made from light and the will for him to live. It was a fine piece of craftmanship. The Titan stripped back pieces of the shotgun with practiced ease and took the lubricating oil in hand, making sure to get it into the small cracks. He took the cleaning pole and gently started cleaning the barrel, watching to see when the cloth came out clean of carbon and residual gunpowder. Saint-14 hummed a song as he worked. The children had sung him when he took his round around the city. It was about a thorny rose in a secret garden. It didn’t let a man pick it for his wife and learned later about her death. The man returned to the garden and the rose and the man grew close before it allowed him to take its beauty, enamoured with his devotion and love for his wife who had long since passed. The pressed rose was placed on the man’s grave when he passed away and the rose was honoured to mark where such a great man had been laid to rest.

 Saint hummed the sad song as he worked and sighed when he finished it, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth at the sadness. It was not a day for such a feeling. There was nothing but joy to be had.

“Hmm. The Guardian made you well.” He joked at the shotgun in his hands as he took the small screws in hand and started to fit the panels back into place, lubricated and clean, ready for action again. He didn’t see a lot of action anymore. Patrols and catching thieves were common outside of ferrying guardians too and from Osiris’ trials. With a warm feeling, he placed the shotgun aside and looked at the nights sky. The Traveller was on the other side of the tower, where Zavala and Shaxx stood during the day. Saint hummed as he looked down at the buildings again, amazed at the sheer size and scale of the buildings. Hundreds of thousands of people lived here now, under the restored safety of the Traveller.

“Saint?” You asked from behind the goliath of an Exo, “You can’t sleep either, huh?” You moved towards him, across the lines of the football field with your Ghost trailing behind you, peaking over your shoulder as you approached the legendary Titan.

“Guardian! It is good to see you!” Saint hollered from where he was sat, armoured head turning to watch you as you walked over.

You had come for a walk, unable to sleep in your small apartment below the Tower, in hopes of tiring yourself out. Guardians didn’t sleep much anyway, but sometimes you wished you could at least have the few hours that you wanted. Either way, it was better than the starving to death Guardians used to have to do. Thinking about the Dark Age made you shudder in your bed at night, the Drifter’s haunting words about the famine and death making you hope it would never come to be again. His plans made you worried that perhaps it would return, but, as you smiled, looking at the cheerful titan who was reaching to remove his helmet to match you, you couldn’t find the sadness that was keeping you up at night.

“Its good to see you as well, Saint.” You chuckled as you sat by the Titan, yawning as you flopped onto the mat next to him, taking a look at the helmet.

The Exo’s grey metal face flexed to reflect a smile as he rubbed a shine back into the plating of the Perfect Paradox, “Sleeping is sometimes difficult, yes. I find mending things to be helpful. Makes the brain sleepy.” He laughed, optics closing as he bellowed over the side of the tower, “You can help me, if you would like, Guardian?” Saint reached for another shining cloth and handed it to you along with one of his great, spiked shoulder pauldrons, “Be careful of the spikes.”

 Gently, you took the armour piece and watched Saint-14 reach to unclip the rest of the plating. The armour on his legs came off easy, along with his gauntlets, but the Exo reached for the back straps of his chest piece and grunted.

“You need some help with that, Saint?” You asked gently as you laid the pauldron he had passed you on the mat.

The titan grumbled, “It would seem so, friend.” Gracefully he took a knee before you, back exposed so you could easily reach the buckles and air locks of the armour from where you were sat.

Skilfully, you started to unlock the armour piece, “You really love clasps, huh, Saint?” You joked as you finally pulled the buckles free and heaved the heavy armour over his head, careful not to hit the metal of his head.

“It is for safety! All armour should be like this, not like that puny amount Hunters wear, and do not get me started about robes! Who in the Vanguard for Warlocks believes that fabric can stop bullets? Pah, stupid. Book smart, all of them, but stupid. The only way to survive bullets is to wear this armour.” He gestured to the heavy plating and stretched in the thick undershirt, the long sleeves being rolled up to reveal the circuitry and grey plating of his arms.

 Laughing, you took hold of his pointy pauldron again and started to clean in between the dangerous points, metal lubricant and cleaner bringing a gleaming shine to the fine armour in your hands, “Its such a task to look after!” You sighed, exasperated, “But I guess I understand why Titans are so fond of huge shoulder armour.” With a finger you eased the cloth between the spikes and began to shine them individually.

“Yet you have such care for mine…” Saint exclaimed before being cut off by the familiar noise of a yowling cat. The Exo turned his head to see a young kitten, yowling underneath the roosting pigeons, paws clenching as it looked up sadly, “Ah, damn cat. Away with you.” He moved to shoo the cat away but stopped as you grabbed his hand, tugging him back towards the mat before you got up and moved towards the thin looking kitten slowly. The cat’s back arched as you came close, hissing as the fur of its back rippled. It was a small thing, barely getting by with whatever tiny amount of food it could scrounge from the locals.

“Shh. Come on. You don’t have to be like that!” You joked as you knelt and offered your fingers gently to the kitten, “Here.” You pulled open your small bag to see if you had any leftover rations from your last mission. With a stick of beef jerky in hand you wiggled it in front of the kitten and watched it’s eyes grow wide and wild.

 Laughing, you tore some pieces free and started backing towards where Saint-14 was sat, a knee propped up, one leg hanging over the edge of the tower.

“Do not bring that rat to me!” He huffed, “It will upset the birds!”

“Its just a kitten, Saint.” You whispered back at him as the cat followed your trail, hungrily devouring the pieces of meat. When you reached the mat, it peered up at your hands and waited, watching you tear off a piece of meat, “Go on.” You offered the food between your fingers and smiled when the kitten pulled the meat free and continued to take food from your hands. With a gentle hand you stroked along its back and smiled as it purred softly, still unsure of the attention and whether to trust you.

“It is a cunning beast.” Saint mumbled as he continued to fix up some loose plating on his gauntlets, “Yet it likes you. It shows that kindness can get you a long way.” Saint-14 eyed the creature as he fixed the finger on his gauntlet, “Even if the object of such kindness delights in killing pigeons.” His face plates shifted into a scowl as the kitten pawed at your lap and climbed into the space in between your legs, purring and rumbling with delight as your fingers weaved into its fur.

 Saint-14 felt a burning jealousy begin to boil within his chest as he watched your fingers run through the animals beautiful ginger fur. It was great and fuzzy, the fur long and in desperate need of brushing and washing. A street cat. He was jealous of a stick thin street cat.

“Will you be keeping it?” Saint asked as he watched the beast stare up at him with lidded eyes. A cat that had gotten the cream.

You hummed and rubbed the kitten’s ear, “Maybe. I think I’m allowed pets, right? I don’t think the Vanguard apartments have rules against it…” Taking hold of the cat you gently reached to place it in the Exo’s lap, “Here. You should have a hold.” You cooed at the kitten as it curled up on one of the Titan’s large thighs, purring, claws nicking at the under-armour Saint was wearing.

Saint peered at the cat and sighed warmly, looking at the soft ball of fluff, “It is very fond of people, for a street cat.” He observed as he touched cool robotic fingers to the creature’s head, “I find myself liking this cat.”

With a chuckle you plucked the kitten back and smiled at Saint’s grey-scale face, “I’ll make sure he has a good home then.”

Saint’s plates moved as he laughed, “Good! Perhaps he will be less inclined to kill things with a nice owner?” He snarked as the kitten rolled onto its back, purring in delight when you tore open another piece of jerky rations to feed it with.

Saint smiled at your own smiling face, feeling the jealousy subside as you wished him a goodnight and took the kitten back to your apartment.

 “He is so large! Now he does not suit the name Peanut.” Saint-14 cooed from the doorway of your apartment, peering inside with his glowing purple helm. The Titan looked on in awe at the Maine Coon sprawled over the small couch in your room. The ginger tom looked over towards Saint, having heard his booming Russian accent in the doorway. Glancing over the Exo one, he soon reclosed his eyes and went back to dozing in the sunlight. It was winter, and the heat in the apartment was more from your radiators and the space heater facing the cushions rather than the cold, weak sun.

“Pah, and so arrogant.” Saint felt his helmet get transported away by Geppetto and frowned up at the giggling Ghost before it disappeared into the apartment with your own, “They are like children.” He complained as you let him inside, “Always giggling and doing the singing of annoying songs.” Saint felt the rest of his armour disappear and growled as Geppetto snickered again and rushed away into the small kitchenette to scan some large lemons. With a sigh he reached and plucked your adolescent cat from the couch, flopping down onto it with a large creak before placing Peanut back in his lap. The Maine Coon rumbled but stretched himself back over the Exo’s warm thighs quite happily.

 “Would you like tea?” You offered, “I have some ramen too if you want some?”

Saint chuckled, “That would be nice. I have not eaten ramen…well it has been a long time since that nuisance hunter was at my door.” He turned his head back to Peanut and scratched at the cats ears as you dished two bowls of the fresh ramen and poured tea. You returned with the tray and smiled at the Titan, placing it on the coffee table before you handed him his own, as not to disturb your grumpy, sleeping cat.

“You both look right at home.” You laughed after a mouthful of noodles as Saint tried to eat around the dozing cat in his lap, “Even if you still don’t like cats.”

Saint swallowed his noodles in his odd Exo fashion before he replied, “I like your cat. Peanut and I see eye to eye now.” He joked as he took hold of the tea and carefully poured some into his mouth, silicon tongue trying its best to help in place of his non-existent lips.

“I think he likes you because you’re a heater.” You listened to Saint’s fans whirr in embarrassment, “He’s forgotten all those mean comments last time you met.” You joked as Saint began to laugh, the noise gentle and deep.

 The titan shrugged his shoulders and watched as Peanut grumbled, removing himself from the room to go and occupy your bed, where it was a lot quieter, “He is temperamental, like all cats.” He shook his head and turned back to you, “But I came to see my favourite guardian!” He cheered, “So, how is the campaign against the darkness going?” He asked ask you slurped your ramen.

You shrugged, “About as well as everyone else. Eris has been getting me to do more and more recently. Its tiring.” You hummed as you placed your empty bowl on the tray, “Hopefully it doesn’t separate us all like last time…” You stated sadly, looking into your tea.

A heavy hand took your shoulder in a soft grip, “Do not be sad. We will fight together to protect our home and our family.”

You felt your throat tighten as Saint squeezed your shoulder softly, “I…I don’t know if I can do it, Saint. Not again.” You felt your eyes burn as you were tipped into the Titan’s lap, “We already lost so much.” Tears dripped over your cheeks as you choked on a sob.

Saint-14 was gentle as he held you, a hero of recent times, in his arms, rubbing soft circles into your back as he let you cry, “We will stand strong. We will not let what happened to the city before ever happen again. This I swear.” The Exo reached to wipe your cheeks with his thumbs, trying to smile and cheer you up as you sniffled at him. You laughed at the odd shifting of his face plates and pushed yourself from the Exo’s lap.

“Thank you, Saint.” You whispered as you moved to make more tea for the both of you.

“Anytime, guardian…anytime.”

 You wished he had called you anything but ‘guardian’ that day.

 Saint-14 rushed from his ship. The pigeons scattered from the supports as he charged from the landing dock towards where Zavala stood. The stair metal moaned as he dragged himself up them, rushing past the Postmaster bot who gave a startled ‘oh’ and pressing onwards towards Zavala. The Awoken turned around in time to raise an eyebrow at the purple Titan rushing toward him.

“If you are here to complain about the lack of bird seed, I would suggest you take it up with the courier.” Zavala sighed, bright eyes looking at the Exo with annoyance.

“You almost got her killed!” Saint hollered, “No fireteam and no back up! What were you thinking Zavala!?” He felt his metal hand creak under his own strength as Zavala eyed him with a stoic curiosity.

“It turned sour quickly. It was only a scouting mission. Gather information and leave. I did not plan for an ambush when I sent one Guardian. I expected a little tact and stealth. Her whereabouts were known as soon as she set foot on Io.” Zavala laid out the facts and spread his hands, “She is home safe. Injured but safe.”

“Yes.” Saint droned dangerously, “But she had to put a bullet through her skull to do it.” He spat before turning away, “I will not stay here…I think I might launch you over the edge of the tower if I do.”

Zavala watched the Titan leave with a sigh as he turned back to peering at the broken Traveller, hands tight around the barrier.

 “She will be fine, Saint-14, you are worrying over nothing. Ghost has done all he can to heal her. All we can do now is let her rest. She was running for three days and nights before getting free enough to transmat to her ship. You must be patient.” The hooded healer laid her hands out in front of her, “The Speaker would have known more of what to do. I was his student but…” She sighed, “The tricks of the Light evade me.” She confessed as her own Ghost span over her shoulder worriedly.

“Thank you, Sister. You have helped a great deal.” Saint gently placed his hand on her shoulder and opened the door of the small medical ward for her.

Before she left, she offered him a sleeping draft, “Even though her Ghost healed her after the gunshot, the revival was quick…it took a lot out of them both. Be careful, Saint-14, and be gentle with her.” She left, her Ghost reciting a list of other people that needed their help for the day.

Saint-14 closed the door after her and returned to your bedroom, watching your ghost bob sadly over your chest. Geppetto appeared over his own shoulder, spinning in a sad circle before he rushed over to the Ghost and tapped their shining shells together gently.

 “Geppetto…is there anything we can do to help her?” Saint asked as he sat down heavily in the chair, “Anything that the Sister could not…”

Geppetto spun counter-clockwise but shook mid-air, “The Sister can do more than me. She will wake up on her own, I think.”

The other Ghost nodded and placed himself on your chest, “Soon. I can feel the Light still there. It is healing her.”

Saint nodded, “Good. The Vanguard will suffer a great loss if she passes.” He whispered, purple optics blinking as he felt oil well underneath the lights. He had not cried tears in many years. He had forgotten that he could. The Titan reached to his face curiously and wiped away the black oil with a finger.

Geppetto watched him with one, bright eye, “You once said that you last cried when you were a baby.” The Ghost joked before landing in his palm, “I believe you think of her as more than just a Guardian that saved you.” Geppetto floated up to touch his forehead with his shell, “Maybe you should tell her that?”

The other Ghost remained quiet before coughing awkwardly, “She is waking.”

 You opened your eyes with a great groan, peering at the ceiling over your head. A throbbing pain seeped behind your eyes as you came too. Your Ghost tittered overhead, white light seeping from him into your eyes. The pain subsided somewhat, and you groaned as you remembered why there was shooting pains in your brain. The bullet had passed straight through your head.

A large hand pushed you back into the mattress, “Down. You barely made it back alive.” The harsh Russian accent of Saint-14 made your eyes widen as you turned your head to see the large Exo sat by your bedside. His metal fingers held a cold rag which he laid over your forehead.

“I have never tended to an ill Guardian…but I remember a mother doing this to her child once. It helps pain and fever.” The Titan arranged his faceplates into a smile, “Hopefully it helps.”

You looked at the grey plates of metal before laughing, loud and bright, “Thank you, Saint.” You reached and found his hand, “Thank you for being here as well.”

The Exo looked at your hands and held your own tighter, “You scared me. I feared they were bringing your Ghost’s shell when I saw the crowd.” He stopped himself and you reached your other hand over, squeezing his hands tighter.

“I’m alright, Saint.”

“And for that I am glad.” Saint smiled again before continuing, “Because you mean…a lot to me.” He whispered your name as you felt a hot blush ripple over your cheeks.

“I feel the same.”

 The grip on your hand only got tighter. You both breathed, though the Exomind’s fans seemed to simply exhale hot steam from his coolant reserves.

“I love you.” Saint-14 whispered close to your cheek before moving back to take in your face.

Your face burned as you eased your way up. Struggling, you managed to get onto one elbow and tugged Saint down by his sweater, kissing the Exo on his metal lips. The metal was cool but quickly warmed as the Exo went hot, fans whirring wildly as his hands walked to your hips, clenching around the flesh and bone gently, holding you like a precious flower.

You pulled away from the kiss and smiled weakly, flopping back into the pillows with a little huff, “I love you too.”

Saint chuckled before breaking into great laughter, arms wrapping around you as well as he could manage with you laid down, “This is fantastic!” He cheered before pressing his faceplates to your lips again, repeatedly kissing you over and over, smothering you with pecks as the both of you laughed together.

 “Happy Dawning!” A woman sang from the square as Saint-14 made his rounds, watching the children giggle and chase each other with ribbons and mistletoe. It was a happy time of year. A time for celebration when there was finally a semblance of peace. Saint-14 shouldered the two young girls on his shoulders easily, listening to their festive songs with a smile underneath his helm.

“Where is this song from, little one?” Saint asked as he placed them down by their home.

“Mama says France. I added some of my own bits to it though!” She smiled, her two front teeth missing in her smile, before she took her sisters hand, “Thank you Mister Saint.” And led her little sister through the door to their home.

“Thank you, Saint-14. I feared they had gotten lost.” Their mother bowed low.

“It is no trouble.” Saint dipped his helm, “I am glad to bring them home safe. Good evening and Happy Dawning.” He continued on his way back to the main street, his purple optics glowing behind his helm in the dark alley.

 The Titan paused in the mouth of the alley.

“If you are here for a fight. I suggest you make it quick. I have someone to get home to.” He seethed as he turned around, guns holstered as he smacked his fists together, void sparking over his arms, rippling with cold energy as he looked upwards.

You tapped the Titan on the shoulder and ducked the punch before wrapping your arms around his neck, “Calm down, big boy. Its just me!” You scrambled up his back easily and wrapped your legs tight, demanding a piggy back ride, “You were late, so I got the Hunters to scout around and find you. Didn’t take them long with all the kids singing.” You teased, head leaned on his shoulder, “Though now I owe them…And I don’t particularly like owing Hunters. Hopefully they’ll just want ramen.”

Saint-14 sighed with relief before tucking your legs through his arms, tilting his helmet to take the kisses with gusto, “I was ready to crush skulls!” He pinched your backside as he continued out of the alley, “A deal with a Hunter is like a deal with Fallen. You will regret it, zaika.” The Titan hummed as he turned onto the main street, walking easily through the crowds in the market.

“It was worth it to find you though.” You peered around at the marketplace with curious eyes, “The Dawning Markets are good this year. They even have bratwurst…Can we get some?” You asked over Saint’s shoulder.

Saint chuckled before turning in the direction of the stall, removing his helmet as you continued to cling to his back.

 Sausage and bread in hand, the two of you sat in the small park as the night sky formed overhead. You looked at the stars as Saint’s faceplates moved to let him eat the hotdog a little easier.

He manoeuvred the hotdog and hummed as he chewed, “It has been a long time since I ate hotdogs.” Saint smiled at you as you took a bite of your own food.

“I thought people had forgotten they existed.” You joked as you chewed your own hotdog.

Saint-14 nodded, “It is good to see them again. It means the people are recovering. Food is more available. It makes me happy to see the City flourishing so.”

With a smile you took hold of his hand, squeezing tight as you looked at the sky, “Saint! Look!”

The Exo peered upwards as snow began to drift from the sky, “Snow. I have seen so much of it…But since the forest…It is still beautiful.” You passed him the rest of your own hotdog and wrapped yourself around his arm, sighing up at the sky. Saint finished the hotdog and peered upwards as well.

“Happy Dawning, Saint.” You whispered as snow flakes melted on top of your head and in your eyelashes.

“Happy Dawning, my love.”

 Metal hands ran along your legs as Saint moved to gently ease your clothes off. You’d been away in the European Dead Zone, fighting off the Fallen again with their amplified Ether. Most of them had gone mad with the supply. You smiled as the grey-scale Exo’s fingers eased your under-armour clothes away, peeling them free to expose your skin. Purple optics blinked before he leaned down to press a cold kiss to your shoulder, fingers pressing against the tension knots in the muscles of your thighs.

“I missed you, zaika.” Saint rumbled as he pressed a kiss to your ankle, metal fingers trailing warm lines up your legs as he settled over the top of you again, “But I think you need shower.” He laughed and pretended to pinch his nose, “You smell like you’ve been sat in horse shit for weeks.”

“Way to a girls heart, Saint.” You rolled your eyes as he picked you up, hands holding your bottom as he walked to the shower, which was already running. The hot water spray was kind on your burning shoulders as you climbed in. Saint-14 passed you your fresh toiletries and smiled before lowering the shower curtain back into place and leaving you to freshen up.

 You left the shower wrapped in a towel, smiling softly at the Exo spread over your bed, resting in a slouchy pair of pyjama bottoms, the screen at the end of your bed showing some new-fangled television show about the current species of bird left on Earth.

“Hey there.” You sat on the edge of the bed with a smile.

Saint rolled onto his side with a smile before he reached a hand out and dragged you back to lay against the cushions, “Now you smell like fresh lemon. Much better than EDZ muck.” He cooed as he pushed his face against your head, tucking you close, “I missed you so much, zaika.” The Exo whispered against your skin as his hands traced your hips, squeezing you softly as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, rolling on top of you, his weight resting on his elbows as he kissed your lips once more.

“I love you, Saint.” You pressed a kiss to each of his dark grey cheeks.

“I love you too.” He whispered as a hand slid over your collar bone and dipped between the valley of your breasts. The cool metal made you shiver as your eyelids drooped a little, looking at the plates and silicon mapped muscle over the top of you.

 A sigh escaped your lips as Saint’s fingers warmed, trailing over your stomach and hips before he pulled you down by the hips and pushed the towel from the bed. You moaned as cold fingers trailed over your outer lips before the Exo spread them gently, exposing you to his burning purple optics. You gasped and squirmed back against the sheets.

“I am moving too quickly.” Saint murmured as he moved his hands back to your hips, massaging the skin gently.

You huffed up at the huge Exo, hands moving to caress the plates of his body, enjoying the smooth feel of metal and carbon fibre under your fingertips as Saint leaned down to kiss you again.

After a phantom kiss you pulled back and pushed yourself up against the Exo, grinding your hips against the front of his loungewear, “Not fast enough.” You uttered breathlessly against him.

Saint hummed as he slowly eased your legs upwards, hands clutching your thighs as he pressed your legs open and pressed his fingers back to your mound, rubbing gentle circles against your clitoris. A soft moan escaped you as the ministrations continued, Saint rubbing circles with his thumb as a finger pressed inside of your vagina, pushing against your walls.

 “Now I see that you missed me just as much.” The Titan purred as he pressed another finger inside of you. Pumping his fingers, he watched you squirm with intense eyes before moving to kiss you once more. You moaned into the kiss as Saint scissored his fingers apart, watching you squirm as your nerves rushed with pleasure and your head swam.

“I missed you so, so much Saint.” You pressed wet kisses to his mouth, jumping as a cool, silicon tongue pushed out to meet you, pushing against your own tongue and stroking against the inside of your mouth. Responding, you pushed your tongue against him and watched the Exo’s optics dull as he pressed his fingers upwards and brushed the bundle of nerves concentrated in your sweet spot. You moaned loud and huffed at the deep chuckle that sounded over your head.

“I missed you…I missed this.” He rumbled as he removed his fingers and pushed his hips forwards, clothed bulge pressing against you.

 “Can we get these off?” You asked as Saint nodded, leaning back before standing to shrug the loungewear off his hips, exposing the silicon and metal plating of his legs. His fans whirred as he returned to the bed, hips slotting against your own as his mod pressed against you.

“Now I remember why I like them off.” You cooed, hand skirting between the two of you, wrapping around the hard length as Saint settled above you once more, “Because I missed this.” You emphasised your point by sliding your hand up his length, stroking a finger over the tip as the Titan let out a static laden moan.

“You are like minx.” He rumbled as he pulled your hands away from his body, tucking your wrists into one of his giant hands, pinning you back against the pillows as you spread your legs, heat crawling up your spine, “So naughty.” Saint hummed as he released your wrists, cupping your bottom as he positions your hips upwards and pressed your thighs apart, “Are you ready, zaika?” He asked next to your ear.

“Please.” You begged quietly as Saint held his cock in his hand, lining the head with your entrance.

His dick slid inside slowly, the inches grazing over your walls. You let out a long breath as the length settled deep inside of you, the tip brushing over your sweet spot.

 “Are you ready?” Saint asked as he kissed your neck and then your shoulder. His hands held your hips gently, the power in his grip hidden behind a loving touch.

“I am.” You confirmed, bucking your hips upwards roughly, enjoying the feel of the hard length inside you pressing against your walls.

Saint-14 took hold of your hips, pinning them in his grip before he pulled out and thrust back inside, setting a steady pace as your hands flew up to grip onto his shoulders. Your nails ground against Saint’s shoulders as you enjoyed the ride, feeling the hard, mod length inside of you, bumping against your cervix as the Exo gave a grunt and a particularly hard thrust.

“You feel so good, zaika. Better than I can recall.” Saint purred as you tightened around him, a phantom, metal laced kiss.

“You do too. Fuck, Saint, please…I’m close.” You pressed your fingers into the oblique, metal plated, silicon muscles. The Exo buzzed, his voice dipping as your fingers ground into the silicon. It shifted to expose wires and you gently ran you finger over the wires, watching as his optics pulsed and dimmed.

A static rumble escaped his parted face plates, “Y-You…minx.” Saint huffed as he pushed in roughly, “You know what that does.” He uttered as you gasped, spasming around his cock as he eased your hips upwards, roughly thrusting in and out.

“Saint!”

“Are you going to cum?” He asked through a small lacing of static as his mouth moved to kiss you again. He didn’t get an answer as you came around his dick, moaning into the air. Saint moaned in turn, metal hips stuttering as his wires singed and fans roared, pouring hot air over your stomach. You gasped as you reached upwards, fingers stroking the antenna either side of his head as you tried to get feeling in your legs once more.

 In the quiet of the room, you laid on top of Saint-14, hands wrapped around him as his fans quietened down and hummed lowly.

You peered out of your window at the dull, glowing lights of the City, “I love you, Saint.”

Saint lifted your head, cupping your cheeks in his hands, “I love you, my little saviour.” The two of you met each other in a gentle, cool kiss above the city you called home.

[hyperpsychomaniac]

The Woodchuck Leader Assessment - Chapter 2

DT17 Fanfiction

Summary: When Launchpad’s ability to supervise children is called into question, Dewey tags along on a Junior Woodchuck trip to support his best friend.

Chapter 1

Also cross-posted on fanfiction.net.

***

Launchpad gulped at the lump which had lodged in his throat. "What, what are you doing back in the Woodchucks? You…" Got kicked out. Because of me.

Mr Russell smiled and Launchpad momentarily wondered if he'd, as often happened, accidentally spoken that last part of his thought out loud. "You can't hold the mistakes of a man's past against him forever, Launchpad. The Woodchucks are pretty fair in that regard. Yeah, I'm back. But you're an adult now. You can call me Jack, you know."

Launchpad turned to face the bus. His throat felt dry. "Ah, kids. This is … Jack. He… he used to be my Junior Woodchuck leader. "

"Jack to you…" Jack waved a paw dismissively in Launchpad's direction.

Launchpad flinched back and the metal back of the driver's seat banged into his spine.

"…but that's still Mr Russell to you kids," he continued, as he turned to address the bus. "I'm afraid I'm a little old school, but don't worry," and he threw this back in Launchpad's direction. "Not as much as I used to be. And it's nothing you kids need to worry about. After all, I'm only here to assess Launchpad. He can lead you to his heart's content, without any input from me, and, well… I guess the whole point of this is to see how that pans out."

"I think you'll find our Woodchuck leader more than capable," said Violet confidently.

"Yeah, go LP!" said Huey, and the rest of the Woodchucks joined in.

Dewey was the last to pick up on the cue. His heartfelt: "Yeeeeaah LP..." carried on a good few seconds longer than the rest of the bus.

The cheers of his Woodchucks, and his best friend, broke through the swirling thoughts that clamored for attention in his head. His Woodchucks had his back. The last time he'd seen Mr Russell, sure it was something he didn't want to remember, and hadn't thought about in years, but, no, he would focus on the assessment.

Mr Russell was shorter than he remembered too. Well, of course, because he had grown! And maybe he wouldn't be so scary now he was an adult. Launchpad squared his shoulders. "Alright. Er, first we grab the gear and hike to the camping spot."

Doofus groaned loudly.

"A short hike," Launchpad clarified, and felt his chest swell as he launched into the easy familiarity of directing his Woodchucks in a task he'd instructed dozens of times. "Woodchucks, start unpacking the camping gear. Make sure you help our potential new recruits. I need to talk to… Mr Russell."

Violet and Huey shuffled everyone off, taking more care than they normally did that everyone exited in an orderly manner. Mr Russell waited until the last kid filed off. Launchpad slipped off past him, behind the kids. Somehow, he felt a little more confident facing the man who had made almost a year of his time as a Junior Woodchuck an absolute hell outside in the fresh air.

Mr Russell followed him down, and Launchpad waited until he was out before bursting out: ""Look, Mr Russell, I don't understand…" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt his beak flush. You didn't admit you didn't understand something to Mr Russell! You knew you'd get chewed out for it, and… he wasn't a kid anymore. "I don't understand why they would've picked you to assess me. Or that you would've agreed surely you don't want to see me, or…" The realisation slowly sunk into his brain. "Wait, is that why you're here? You had to resign because of me, and…"

Mr Russell held up a paw. It was hardly the gruff reprimand Launchpad remembered whenever he'd questioning him as a child, and it gave him pause. "Launchpad, I'm not here for payback. The Woodchucks won't hold my past failures against me, well, I'm not going to hold yours against you either. The last time we saw each other? That whole…. mess is not relevant. And I don't think either of us wants to think about it."

"Mess?" Launchpad said thinly. That's what he chose to call it?

"Yes, I rejoined the Woodchucks a few years ago. Heard you were still around, but I thought it best I stay out of your way. But since then I've heard there've been a number of complaints about you. Not that I find that surprising. You were always headstrong and foolhardy and you just didn't know when to quit. Everything is so damn slack these days, they practically hand badges out like candy, which I can deal with. But when it comes to the safety of the kids, that's another matter. I fully intend to give you a fair go, but I'm not giving any handouts. There's no failure badges for this one. If I don't think you can keep these kids safe, that's what I'm putting in my report. And then you're out of here."

***

Down at the campsite, the more senior Woodchucks had already started helping the new kids set up their tents. Violet must have begun implementing her protocols, and Launchpad didn't need to know exactly what those were to be grateful. He breathed deep the forest air, and huffed it out with a sigh of relief. The sky was clear, and he could hear the roar of the river a short distance down from the camp. "Come on, LP. Just do what you always do. Be a good Woodchuck leader! Your kids know you are, and Mr Russell will see that and…" He gulped. But just like every other time he'd had an assessor following him about, he couldn't let him be a distraction. He had to concentrate on the kids and making this trip as fun for them as possible, whatever his own fears might be.

"Hey, Launchpad," said Dewey with an enthusiastic wave. "Can you help me set up my tent?"

Launchpad frowned. Dewey knew how to set up a tent. Violet and Huey had the other kids all under control though, so he wandered over to his friend. "Sure. What do you need help wi…"

Dewey grabbed Launchpad by the collar and dragged him down to his level, then shoved a tent pole in his face. "Where does this go?" he said loudly, then dropped his voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah… why…"

"You went white as a sheet when Mr Russell came onto the bus. Was he that bad? I mean, I've had some pretty annoying teachers…"

"He wasn't annoying. He…" Mr Russell wandered about, hands clasped behind his back, watching the Woodchucks put up their tents. And not lifting a finger to help, which hardly surprised Launchpad. His eyes drilled into their backs as he watched every little thing they did. At least he wasn't here to judge them, and the kids were all so engrossed talking to each other and with the task they hardly seemed to notice. "He just didn't think I was a very good Woodchuck, okay? What if he doesn't think I'm a good leader either?"

"LP, look at these nerds. They know what their doing. And you taught them all of that."

"I'm not sure I had that much to do with it. I just give them an activity and they all seem to pick it up really quick. Other than that, I just make sure we bring enough food and water, and, you know, distract angry mother bears."

Dewey squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, you're good at this, LP. You'll be fine."

Launchpad smiled faintly. "Thanks. Thanks for coming too. You're right, I…" But it wasn't just the memory of how Mr Russell had treated him as a kid. It was the last time they'd seen each other… and Mr Russell had said that was the past, but that still didn't stop the memory stirring. Dewey, most of his Woodchucks actually, they would be the same age as Calvin had been. And that thought brought an ache to Launchpad's chest.

"Thanks LP, of course it goes here," Dewey screamed into his ear, and rammed the tent pole into its slot.

Mr Russel appeared at his shoulder. "Well, this one seems to get it. Most of your Woodchuck's seem to know what they're doing actually."

"Are you surprised?" Launchpad said as he got to his feet. It was getting easier to talk to his old leader like an adult, but being crouched down at kid level was not helping.

Mr Russell would've snapped at him for talking to him like that. Had, on more than one occasion, which somehow coincided with him getting stuck with the worst chores. LP couldn't be sure if it was because he'd grown up, or maybe Mr Russell had mellowed, because the old dog just raised an eyebrow. "A little." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "This one though. Not cut out for this."

Doofus Drake sat in the middle of his unfurled tent. He'd dragged it around and over his head, so only his pouting face stuck out.

Huey stalked past. "I tried showing him. He won't listen to me." He went over to help one of the other kids.

"You know he's new, right?" said Launchpad.

Mr Russel lowered his brows, that same condescending look Launchpad remembered. "Yeah, Launchpad. I know. That's why he's not wearing a uniform."

"I meant… how do you know when he's barely had a chance to try or…"

Someone let out a faint shriek, and a tent toppled over. Mr Russell folded his arms and snorted out a laugh. And just stood there.

"Maybe you could help Doofus?" One good thing had always come of having the assessor along for a trip: Launchpad didn't need to take care of up to a dozen kids all by himself. Ever since the other leaders had left they'd been unable find replacements, and it wasn't just because of how Launchpad drove the bus. No one seemed interested. And that's what made the assessments so stressful. It would suck if an assessor finally failed him, and he could no longer give back to the organisation that had helped him so much as a kid. But it would suck even more if the kids here didn't have Woodchucks at all because their branch got shut down.

At least the other assessors had slipped into leader mode themselves, and actually helped. But Mr Russell just stood there and raised an eyebrow. "Oh no. this is your show, son. Like I said, I don't give handouts."

The toppled tent righted itself as the unfortunate girl finally found her way out of the heap of canvas.

"We've got this, Launchpad," said Huey as both he and Violet and even some of the other new kids who had already got their tents up went over to help.

Launchpad gritted his teeth. Handouts. What the hell did he think his job as Woodchuck leader had been anyway?

And that just left Doofus. Launchpad went over to the boy, Mr Russell trailing behind him. He picked up a tent pole. "You know, I think you're supposed to use this to hold up the tent. Not your head."

"I want to go home!" Doofus disappeared underneath the canvas.

Mr Russell huffed. "Kids these days are just so damn soft. Even you weren't this bad. I told you he wasn't cut out for it."

"Mr Russell, will you just…"

Mr Russell squared his shoulders. "Yeah?"

Launchpad gulped. "Nothing." He poked the pole into a gap in the canvas and lifted it. Forget the assessment. Forget Mr Russell. Forget the memories he hadn't thought about in years, churning up in his gut. If he'd been here on his own, he'd be helping this kid. Because despite the attitude, he'd seen that brief moment of tears in his eyes. He wouldn't be the first kid who'd been sent by his parents when he didn't want to go and that certainly didn't mean he 'wasn't cut out for it'. Or that his parents shouldn't have sent him. He didn't need some overbearing leader, which was something Mr Russell would never understand. He just needed a friend.

"There we go," Launchpad crawled inside and propped up the canvas with the pole. "We're half done now."

Doofus glared at him from other corner of the tent. "That's not where the pole goes."

"So you do know how to build a tent?"

"It's not building! I can figure it out. But I shouldn't have to! I have… PEOPLE… to do these things for me."

"Yeah, but not always."

"What?"

"What about when you don't have people?"

"You can put the tent up for me!" Doofus folded his arms with a huff.

Launchpad winced. "Actually," he said, lowering his voice. "This is one of the new tents. I haven't figured out how to do this one yet. I was going to get Violet to show me."

Doofus' jaw dropped. "But, who's going to put up my tent? I don't want to sleep out here in the rain."

"Pft. It's not going to rain. Violet can help you."

"I…" Doofus slumped down, arms folded over his knees. "I already told her she was stinky and had weird hair; I don't think she'll help me."

"Well, at least its not going to rain?"

"I…" Doofus threw back his head. "Urgh! Give me that." He snatched back the pole, and rammed it into a corner of the tent, threading it through a canvas sleeve in the tent's side. He snatched up a second and did the same.

Launchpad watched him work. "Huh… that makes sense." He grabbed the last pole and copied what Doofus had done, shoving it into the remaining canvas sleeve. The whole tent popped out, crisp and straight and complete.

Doofus glared at him. "You said you wouldn't help!"

"I said I didn't know how to put it up yet. There you see? That was easy. " They slipped out of the tent flap.

Doofus turned back and looked at his tent. "I… built a tent?"

"Yeah. Look at that. At least now you know you can do it if you ever don't have… people."

Doofus eyed him warily. "Well, I at least hope someone is going to cook my dinner." And with that, he stalked off.

"It's not going to help him if you do it for him."

"He put half that tent up himself!"

"Because you got chummy with him? You're not going to teach these kids the skills they need in life by being their friends. They need discipline."

"Yeah, well, I've been on the receiving end of your discipline." Launchpad snorted.

Mr Russell swallowed hard. "One time, Launchpad. That was only ever one time."

It wasn't what Launchpad had been referring to. Not that one incident, but the usual bullying and the tearing strips off of the kids in front of each other, and slapping failure badges into their open hands like it was something they should have been ashamed of. Launchpad shook himself and went over to check through the food supplies. Mr Russell didn't follow him.

***

Dewey kept his eye on Launchpad the whole afternoon. As they set up the food, the campsite, and collected firewood, his friend was clearly becoming more and more frustrated with his so-called assessor. I mean, he had plenty reason to be. Mr Russell hovered around, making snarky comments, both at LP and about the kids to LP, and he didn't help with anything. But this was Launchpad. He liked everyone. Launchpad had simply said Mr Russell hadn't thought he'd been a good Woodchuck. But that couldn't be all of it. It all made Dewey want to grab his friend by the shirt sleeve and make him tell him exactly what the guy had done that had him so on edge. He'd tried once, but Launchpad had just smiled at him faintly, which was something at least, and then asked him to go help collect firewood. Dewey would have argued, but Mr Russell had been right there and he hadn't wanted to make Launchpad look bad.

Now, the camp was set up, the sky was darkening, and everyone had settled down to eat dinner around the campfire. Nothing bad had happened that Dewey could tell, apart from the tent falling over. Hopefully that meant, so far, Mr Russell would have nothing negative to report on.

Once the meal was finished, Launchpad stood up and pulled out a set of prompt cards. "Oookay everybody. Now because some of you are new we're going to show you some of the stuff we do as Woodchucks. Then, if you want, we can talk about you becoming one too, if you're interested."

Russell snorted. "Or are capable."

Launchpad shot a glare behind him and a prompt card fluttered into the fire. "Er. Where was I?"

"Maybe you can tell our new recruits what we're doing tomorrow?" Huey suggested.

"Um, right," Launchpad shuffled his cards, then shook his head and shoved them back into this sash. "Well, the swimming hole is only a little way upstream. So, in the morning we're going to hike up there. Assuming the weather holds, we'll be doing some swimming. And the…"

"Do you even have your swimming badge yet?" Mr Russell said.

Launchpad flinched and clutched a hand to his sash.

Dewey couldn't tell if he'd covered a blank spot or not, but there were a hell of a lot of badges, spread all across Launchpad's broad chest. So, of course there was a swimming badge. I mean, everyone know how to swim, right? It was time to Dew what he'd come here for. "Launchpad knows how to swim!"

"I wasn't talking to you, boy," Russel snapped.

The scared look fell from Launchpad's face. "Hey!" he said, a growl creeping into his voice, "don't talk to my Woodchucks like that."

"Well, you're not doing anything about it. You're just going to let them interrupt you?"

"You're the one who interrupted, Launchpad," Huey pointed out. "My brother was just…"

"That's enough out of both of you. If you don't want to be digging toilets…"

"We have to dig toilets?!" Doofus groaned.

"There's a block up the hill," said Violet. "That was supposed to be part of the induction. Unfortunately Launchpad was interrupted before he could get to that section of his prompt cards."

"Seriously?" Mr Russell fixed his glare on each of the Woodchucks in turn. "This is what you let them get away with? No wonder they're such a pitiful…"

"Mr…." Launchpad bit himself off, then steadied his hands into fists down by his sides. "Jack, that's enough. I had to put up with this when I was a kid; I'm not going to let you talk them like that. They're going to do fine. And if some of them take a little longer to get their badges, or even if they don't want to be Woodchucks, that's fine too. But you're not in charge here. So you can… you can sit down, shut up, and put whatever the hell you like in your report. But if you're going to behave like this, you can leave."

"Oh, snap…" Dewey said, as quietly as he could manage. Okay, so he'd never seen Launchpad get mad enough to take someone down a notch, so Mr Russell had to be getting to him, but, at the same time, Launchpad was standing up to him. Good for him! And Mr Russell deserved it too.

Mr Russell glared at Launchpad for a long moment. Then he shrugged. "Well, the way you're going, you're not going to be in charge for much longer." He took a step up to him, and the two men stood chest to chest. Launchpad didn't back down. Not that he should have, because he was clearly that much bigger, and Russell just ended up pretty much staring into his chest.

"Yeah," Russell finally drawled. "Didn't think so. Still haven't got that swimming badge, I see. And I know there's at least one pretty big failure hiding behind where that one should be."

Launchpad's stance drooped. He said, barely audibly: "I thought you said you weren't going to bring that up."

Huey's guidebook snapped closed sharply, and everyone jumped. "There's nothing to say he can't give out a badge he doesn't have. Plenty of our other leaders didn't have all their badges either."

"You mean the leaders you had before Launchpad scared them all away? I've heard the stories. Part of the reason why I made sure I got this assignment; I had to make sure he was taking care of you. And, you know, I wasn't going to say anything in front of you kids," and he turned back to Launchpad. "But seeing as you're being so disrespectful to me, which isn't surprising, I'm not going to feel bad about it.

"I've seen nothing that tells me you should be looking after these kids all by yourself. A couple seem to be pretty self-sufficient, if belligerent, but if anything they've been doing all the leading here. You can't control them, I can't see that you're actually teaching them anything, and I'm just glad nothing has happened except a few fallen tents, because I'm not sure you've got what it takes to handle all this."

"I haven't had the chance to teach them anything yet. This was your problem, Jack, you never gave anyone a chance, the slightest mistake and you'd already pegged them."

"And I was usually right! I was right about you, wasn't I? You're dangerous!"

Violet shot up a hand. "My understanding of the assessment procedure," she said, not stopping to get permission to speak, "is that you assess Launchpad on his ability to keep us safe. Not on how you view his leadership style."

"Leadership style. That's a fancy way to put it, miss."

"Her name's Violet," said Launchpad. "You realise I'm doing this all by myself, right? If you could just help, for once, instead of standing around judging…"

"Judging you is literally my job here," said Mr Russell. He spread his paws wide. "Look, kids, I get it. You all think I'm the bad guy here. But the girl is right; this is about your kids' safety. I just don't want to see Launchpad get himself in the position I found myself in, where I couldn't control the kids I was responsible for…"

The firelight threw sharp shadows across Launchpad's lowered brows. "Jack, don't."

"I got kicked out of the Woodchucks for years, and they had every right to do it. You want to know what happened? A kid drowned on my watch. Come on, Launchpad, you don't want to be responsible for something like that, do you?"

Launchpad stared at Mr Russell for a long time, saying nothing, chest heaving. Then he turned on his heel and stalked out of the campsite.

What the heck? Dewey shot to his feet. "You're a jerk, you know that? Launchpad, LP…" He headed out into the darkness after his friend.

***

Authors note: I wanted to write something that put Launchpad in a position where he would have to 'adult'. I also wasn't sure how well I would write the DT17 version of Launchpad, as I'm honestly more comfortable writing say Violet and Huey, so yeah, I made it challenging for myself and he has to adult as well. Lol. I also did want to see a little bit more of Launchpad being a Woodchuck leader in the series (which, yes, I think he would be good at, in his own way.) I imagine its something he's put a lot of effort into. Its a setting where he'd have to be the one being the adult, but still being Launchpad… especially when things start to go wrong, so hopefully I have achieved that. Please leave me any comments. I do like hearing what people think and will usually try to respond.

***

Chapter 3