#i’ve been listening to them nonstop while writing this chapter

[tortoisebore]

Something new?

i don’t wanna give too much away but here’s a bit from my outline/thought dump doc with all the songs from the playlist we’re covering in chapter 5 🤲

[alexfromjersey]

𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓞𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 & 𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓐𝓿𝓸𝓲𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮

jenna x g!poc

summary: jenna avoids talking to her family. jah plans a spontaneous outing

warnings: mature language, smut, tiny bit of violence

a/n: this is my all-time fav fanfic to write. I actually enjoy writing again, it’s been a long time since I’ve said that. also I can’t express enough how much I appreciate 230+ followers it’s small to some but this is huge to me thank you 🥺🫶🏾. enjoy the chapter - 5.5k words

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“Jenna…you’re pregnant?”

Those words coming out of her mother’s mouth made all the air in Jenna’s body disappear. Nervousness filled her and tears started to fill her eyes. At the sight, you instantly stood up from leaning against the car.

“What happened?” You mouthed in concern to her.

“Hello? Jenna?”

Jenna stepped away, “How did you find out?”

It was quiet on the other side for a moment, “So it’s true…you are pregnant.”

“Yeah, Mom I am. Listen I was going to call you and Dad and tell you guys but I had other things to handle first” Jenna explained.

“Handle? What things needed to be handled first? I get a call at one in the morning while on break at work from Hudson. My heart done fell out of my ass because I thought something bad happened to you-”

“Wait, wait Hudson called you and told you?” Jenna questioned.

“Yes. Told me that you got pregnant by some hoodlum. Who is this person anyway? You never mentioned you were seeing anyone” Natalie asked.

Jenna looked at you, you were glancing at her with concern and confusion. You saw that her face contorted into something that kinda scared you…and turned you on.

“Mom I have to go but I promise I will call you back and explain everything,” Jenna said.

Jenna didn’t wait for her mother to reply before she hung up the phone. Her walk back to you was full of annoyance and frustration.

“What happ-”

“I need to go somewhere” Jenna interrupted you and texted Big L to go home. As she passed you, she took the keys out of your hand.

“Uh…” That was all you were able to say as Jenna got into the driver's seat. Sensing the anger radiating from her, you just decided to follow her. You hopped in the car and Jenna pulled off immediately.

After a deathly silent drive to NoHo, you quickly arrive in front of a luxury loft apartment building. Jenna turned off the car and quickly hopped out. You were right on her heels.

She walked into the lobby where she was greeted by a doorman.

“Good evening Ms. Ortega” The doorman greeted.

But Jenna ignored him, her focus was on getting the little bastard on the top floor. You and her walk into the elevator which was thankfully empty.

“You gon’ talk or what? I’m lost on this entire thing right now” You questioned.

“My mother knows” Jenna revealed.

Your eyes widen at the revelation, “oh shit.”

“Oh shit is right. The person who told her lives in this building” Jenna said and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Mhmm” You hummed.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment almost to the floor Hudson lived on. You took the ring off your pinky finger and stuffed your necklace into your shirt. You also pulled off your glasses and held them in your hand.

Jenna looked at you, “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting ready just in case I gotta beat a bitch ass” You shrugged nonchalantly.

Soon, the two of you arrived on Hudson’s floor. You followed behind Jenna until she stopped at the last door on the floor. She started to bang on the door nonstop.

A few moments later, the door swung open to reveal a groggy Hudson. Before the door fully opened, Jenna pushed her way inside.

“You had no right! No fucking right to tell my mother my business” Jenna seethed.

Now Hudson was fully awake, “I did you a favor!”

You casually walked inside the apartment and close the door. You leaned against the counter watching the scene unfold.

“No! You did yourself a favor! I told you to stay out of this. I told you multiple times and you still keep doing it. You were my best friend Hudson and I trusted you! But now I’m done with you Hudson.” Jenna snapped.

Hudson’s face contorts into an angry one, “Done with me! After everything I did for you, you just going to drop me like that! You know what, maybe I should tell the world and your little thug girlfriend everything about you and I mean everything. Show everyone the real Jenna Ortega” Hudson threatened lowly.

If it was possible Hudson would be liquified by the way Jenna was glaring into his soul.

“Or maybe I should just show her all the videos and headlines. Especially the most recent one that’s not even a year old yet.” Hudson challenged the smaller brunette.

Hudson was suddenly cut off by a pain in his left cheek and his head whipped to the right. You instantly get up and pull Jenna away from Hudson.

“Okay, time to go,” You said and continued to pull her away.

Hudson glared at Jenna as he rubbed his cheek. You and Jenna leave the boy’s apartment and make your way back to the elevator. Tears were now falling freely down Jenna’s face. Once inside you push the emergency stop button. The elevator stops and you turn towards Jenna.

Immediately Jenna started to sob and you rushed in to pull her close to you. Your arm wrapped around her and she grabbed a fist full of your shirt. You felt her whole body racked with sobs. You kissed the top of her head and hugged her tighter.

🤰🏻🩵

TWO DAYS LATER

It's been two days since Jenna last spoke with her mother. Technically Natalie was calling and texting her daughter but she was too afraid to answer. Instead, the actress coped in her hotel room avoiding everyone, crying, and eating up all the room service food.

You just came back from shooting hoops with Davis and a few other friends. You took your shower and got dressed in some comfortable clothes. You haven't heard from the actress in a while and you were getting worried. So you grabbed your keys and set off to her hotel.

The journey didn't take long and you made your way up to the floor you knew she stayed on. You then knocked three knocks on the door. A few moments later, an exhausted looking Jenna opened the door.

"Damn girl you look terrible" You spoke without a second thought.

Jenna glared at you, "I will slam this door in your face."

"I'm sorry. My intrusive thoughts won that round. What you doing being cooped up in this stuffy ass room?"

"Sulking in my depression" Jenna replied and left from the door. You stepped inside and closed the door behind you. The hotel room was a lot different from the last of you were in. This was like presidential suite, it had a kitchen, multiple rooms, a big ass dining table, and 85inch TVs.

"That Scream money got you in severe luxury. I might have to dabble into the acting business" You joked.

Jenna, however, ignored you, she instead went back into her room and buried herself under her covers.

"Nah get yo ass up," You said and ripped the comforter off Jenna's body. Underneath, she was only dressed in an oversized white button up shirt and real short shorts.

“No” Jenna moaned and tried to grab the comforter but you moved it out of the way.

“Nah get your pregnant emotional ass up” You stated.

“Real talk, I know the news hitting your fam is not the way you wanted it but they know now. It’s been two days, you can’t keep avoiding them, especially your Moms.” You continued.

“You didn’t hear how she sounded Jah. I never heard my mother sound so disappointed in my life. Not even when pictures of me smoking cigarettes came out” Jenna said.

“I get it. You do your best trying to be this perfect child for your parents. When you disappoint them, you’re afraid that they’ll look at you differently” You commented.

“Yeah,” Jenna nodded.

“But they also gotta understand that you are human. Regardless of how perfect you try to be, you are going to make mistakes in your life. If they can’t accept that then, no offense, they got parenting all wrong” You added.

“You gonna be the fun parent while I be the strict one?” Jenna questioned.

"Why can't we both be fun parents with understandable boundaries" You stated and lay back to next to her.

Jenna sighed and the two of you just lay there in a comfortable silence staring at the ceiling before Jenna spoke again. "This room is suffocating. I need to go somewhere or do something"

You sat up on your forearms, "You are just luck Hollywood. I need you to get up and get dressed. I wanna take you somewhere to get your mind off things."

"I mean there are other ways to take my mind off things" Jenna smirked.

For a second you considered what she was implying but then you had to remember your talk yesterday.

"You are a very horny woman Jenna Ortega. Now get up and get a move on you smell like a reheated supreme pizza" You smirk at her annoyed face and leave her room.

“Asshole” Jenna grumbled.

🤰🏻🩵

It was an hour later, Jenna still had a little attitude with you, which you found amusing. She was finally ready to go. The two of you left your apartment and got in your car.

“Where are we going?” Jenna asked.

“You’ll see.” You smiled and started the journey to your destination. Jenna pouted and sat back in her seat. The car journey was mostly just filled with you bopping along to the music while Jenna stared at the scenery.

The disappointment in her mother’s voice still echoed throughout her head. She knew that she needed to talk to her family and explain everything but she wasn’t ready just yet.

Shortly after, you finally arrived at your destination, The Bronx Museum of the Arts. You always wanted to take someone here but you never found the right person until now.

“Welcome to the Bronx Museum of the Arts,” You smiled as you opened the door for her. The two of you walked into the building that was playing a jazzy instrumental softly.

Immediately, Jenna was amazed by the art she saw. From paintings to sculptures to graffiti art. You stood a little bit behind her as she looked over the art. You, too were interested in all the art, especially the graffiti.

Graffiti reminded you of your father. Before he left, he was a construction worker but had a talent for graffiti art. Often getting in trouble in his youth with his friends for tagging buildings, cars, and billboards. Your father tried to teach your older brother how to make graffiti art but he was never interested enough. But when you came along, he was ecstatic to finally share his talent with his one of his offspring.

“This is amazing” Jenna beamed after she finished reading the description of one of the statues.

“I’m glad you like it. I was kinda worried you wouldn’t like it” You said and scratched the back of your neck nervously.

Jenna smirked as she looked at you, “Nervous?”

You stopped scratching the back of your neck and shoved your hands in your jeans pockets.

“Nah I don’t get nervous,” You said and cleared your throat.

Jenna just nodded with a smile. As much as she wanted to hold your hand, she restrained herself and kept walking through the exhibit. You followed behind her and put a good enough distance between the two of you. Jenna took notice of it but didn't make a comment. The two of you just continued enjoying your time at the museum, learning more about the Bronx and Hip-Hop culture.

Two hours have passed and the museum was, unfortunately, closing. You and Jenna left the building, vowing to come back to finish.

Instead of leading her to the car, you make your way down the street.

It wasn’t long until you arrived at the second destination, Black Knight Lounge. It was recommended to you by one of your buddies you play hoop with. It was a low-key club that served banging food and played fire music. But what made you come here was the fact that it had an open mic night, which coincidentally was tonight.

“Party for 2,” You said to the hostess who nodded and grabbed two menus. The hostess led you to a booth to the right of the stage.

“Enjoy” The hostess smiled and placed the menus down before leaving.

“This seems familiar” Jenna joked.

You chuckled and thought back to the night your child was conceived, “Reminds me of the night we conceived our child. A night that I remember daily.”

Jenna hid her red face in the menu which you laughed at. She went back to looking over the menu while you stared at her, taking in her natural beauty. This was the most relaxed you had seen her in the past week. The girl was a busybody and often forgot that she was human and can get exhausted. Hopefully, since she’s pregnant now she’ll take her body's health into consideration more.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Black Knight Open Mic Night. For all my newcomers, open mic night is the chance to showcase your musical, poetic, or comedic talents in front of everyone. Do your best cause you never know who’s watching. Rules are: each person gets a limit of 3-4 minutes, you may perform an original or cover, and you must have the instrumental for your music or perform it yourself. The winner gets $500. Without further ado let’s get it started!” The DJ announced excitedly.

Everyone in the building clapped their hands while one person went up to the DJ booth and handed him a USB.

“Alright, we have our first performer for the night. Give it up Mr. ChiBX” The DJ yelled into the microphone.

“Twenty bucks, he chokes” You challenged the girl.

“He’s not going to choke. I believe in him” Jenna said optimistic.

You pulled out a $20 bill and smacked it on the table with a smirk. Jenna smiled and also pulled out a $20 bill and smacked it on top of yours. The two of you then turned towards the stage where the overweight middle-aged man was sweating bullets.

“I like to start off my set by telling a little joke. What do you call an angry carrot?” ChiBX asked.

No one in the room answered the man so the DJ took pity on him, “I don’t know man what do you call an angry carrot?”

“A steamed veggie” ChiBX wheezed.

You and Jenna covered your mouths as you laughed from secondhand embarrassment. Again, no one in the room laughed or chuckled. The DJ cringed before hitting a button that made a buzzing sound.

ChiBX frowned and without another word just left the stage.

“Poor guy” Jenna pouted.

You, on the other hand, grabbed the $40 from the table, “Aye I’m $40 richer.”

Jenna rolled her eyes in amusement while you did a quick little dance in your seat. The two of you continued playing the game after ordering your drinks and entrees, only adding money to the mix when one of you was super confident of winning.

While sipping your Sprite, you noticed Jenna kept glancing down at her phone.

“Call them” You blurt out.

Jenna looked up, “What?”

“Call your folks. Avoiding them more is only going to make things worse than they should be” You explained.

Jenna didn’t want to talk about it so she switched the subject, “When are you going to tell your mom?”

You sighed when she switched the subject but you didn’t want to push her to talk about anything she didn’t want to.

“She gets back from Jamaica tomorrow. Which brings me to asking you if you feel comfortable meeting her tomorrow? You can absolutely suggest another time too” You said.

Jenna contemplated meeting your mom right now, especially when she’s not on speaking terms with hers right now. But then she weighed the facts that, she’s going to be gone for a few months filming Beetlejuice in London. She didn’t want to wait until she was halfway from giving birth to tell your mother.

“Yeah I would love to meet her” Jenna smiled and nodded.

“Great” You smiled.

Moments later, your food has arrived. The two of you sat in silence and devoured your plates entirely. By the time you were both done, the place was packed now. More people got up to the mic and performed comedy pieces with only three performing rap songs.

You were now sitting beside Jenna with your arm around her and her leaning into your side. You guys wanted to stay for a little bit longer to watch whoever got on stage.

“Jahaziel?” Someone called your name from behind you.

The both of you looked to the side and saw an older gentleman dressed in a polo shirt and slacks. You recognized him as one of your father’s old friends.

“Mr. Greenhill, how you doing?” You greeted the man and shook his hand.

“I’m doing good young blood. I haven’t seen you since you were little. How’s Moms?” Mr. Greenhill gleamed.

“Yeah. She’s doing good. She comes back from Jamaica tomorrow” You answered.

“Word? I might stop by and visit her. I haven’t seen her since she and Emanuel moved to Highbridge” Mr. Greenhill said.

At the mention of your father’s name, your smile faltered a little. You hoped he didn’t ask you about how or where your father was.

“Excuse me, where are my manners. I’m Mr. Greenhill, I was a friend of her father's and I used to babysit this knucklehead” Mr. Greenhill introduced himself.

"This is Jenna...we're friends" You introduced her.

Friends. The title left a bitter taste in your mouth and an arrow in Jenna's heart.

"Nice to meet you Jenna" Mr. Greenhill smiled at her which she reciprocated. "Am I gonna see you on that stage?"

“Nah I don’t think so. I don’t have anything prepared” You declined.

“The lies you tell. You are always prepared when it comes to music. This one used to put on concerts for the whole block when she was little. Singing her heart out using songs no one expected her to sing. Like that time you sang Chain Reaction by Diana Ross” Mr. Greenhill reminisced.

You chuckled, “I remember. Dre and I were using buckets as drums.”

“Yes! Good times” Mr. Greenhill said.

You nodded in agreement.

"Alright, I don't want to interrupt your outing more than I already have. It was good seeing you young blood and again nice meeting you too Jenna." Mr. Greenhill said.

"Likewise" Jenna smiled. Mr. Greenhill left your table. You take a sip of your drink but you felt eyes burning into the side of your skull.

“What?” You questioned as you looked at Jenna.

“When were you going to tell me you made music?” Jenna raised an eyebrow.

"Oh see that's how I know you are a fake friend because I have music out," You said.

“How was I supposed to know that? You don’t even promote it” Jenna replied.

"Because I made it when I was 13. I put out four songs and three had music videos. We spent a hefty amount of money on them. Almost went homeless because of it" You shrugged and placed your drink down.

“What do you mean?” Jenna asked.

“I used to do little shows on the corner by my house with Davis and a few other friends. One day, a guy came up to me after I finished performing a song and basically sold me a dream. Told me that he was a record label agent and if I signed with him I’ll be this big child singer and I’ll be rich and yadayadayadaya. So I begged my Moms to let me sign with this man cause music is my dream, singing and dancing and performing is my love language. It took a while but my mom eventually let me sign with the man under the conditions that she will manage everything and I’ll still be in school. Everything was smooth, I made those four songs and did the music videos, my mom went from having two jobs to basically a part time job so she can manage my career. So I don’t know what made her look more deeply into these people but I’m glad she did because she found out that they were pocketing the money I made from those songs.” You explained.

Jenna gasped, “How much?”

“They pocketed almost 70k from us. We never noticed because they would show us falsified documents of where the money was going too. They would tell us all our money was going to these fake ass fees and shit. ” You said and sipped your soda.

“Wow. Do you want to make music again?” Jenna asked.

"Eh I don’t know maybe later in my career. I haven’t properly performed in almost ten years so I don’t know if I still got it in me" You shrugged.

"Doesn’t hurt to try again. This is a good opportunity to practice " Jenna said and motioned to the stage.

“Oh no thank you. I’m good" You stated.

“Aw come on Jah…like you said singing, dancing, and performing is your love language. Don’t give up on something you love. Don’t let those people prior take away your passion” Jenna said.

After a moment of contemplating, you let out a sigh, “Fine.”

You stood up from the booth and Jenna watched with excitement as you walked over to the DJ booth. You opened your phone to the notes section. You found a song you wrote a couple years ago. You skimmed through the lyrics until you felt like you had the lyrics down pack. You handed the DJ your phone with the beat on it.

“What you wanna be introduced as?” The DJ asked.

“Just Jah is fine” You answered and he nodded.

You walked up to the microphone on the small stage. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you which placed your nerves in. But when your eyes locked on brown ones, you felt every single nerve disappear. You took a deep breath in and gave a thumbs up to the DJ.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, give it up for our first singing performance of the night, Just Jah!” The DJ announced.

That’s not…whatever.

The beat for your song started playing.

“It’s crazy how your heart just has a mind of its own, yeah, yeah” You started singing.

Jenna’s jaw dropped at the sound of your raspy R&B-suited voice.

“Like when a smile, that makes a choice on its own”

Jenna was completely enchanted by everything about you. From learning that you can sing to your beauty to your mindset. Everything about you made her realize something.

She was falling in love with you. Hard. Which made her even more petrified.

“My mind tries to deny it but girl I can’t fight what I know. I know. I want you baby ooh” You take your voice up a few octaves and stun every single person in the room except for one.

Mr. Greenhill was by the entrance of the building with a proud smile on his face.

You finished the rest of the song and everyone was giving you a standing ovation. You thanked everyone and went back to the booth.

“I need you to sing just for me every day from now on,” Jenna said.

You laugh as you sat down, “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Seriously, I need more music from you. I need it like yesterday” Jenna joked.

You continued to laugh at Jenna's eagerness for more music from you. It gave you the confidence boost you didn't know you needed to actually start making music again.

“Wow! What an amazing performance by Just Jah. Now I’m gonna take a quick 30-minute break and I’ll be right back with some more performances” The DJ said and switched on some music.

You recognized the song as Aaliyah's. All the couples in the room stood from their seats and went to the small dance floor. You grabbed Jenna's hand and pulled her up and towards the dance floor.

"May I have a dance with you darling?" You spoke in a British accent which made Jenna giggle.

"You shall" She replied.

You placed her arms around your neck and your hands on her waist. The two of you start swaying to the beat of the song.

"I know this was a spontaneous friend outing but did you enjoy yourself today?" You asked.

"Best friend outing I've ever been on" Jenna answered honestly.

“The best? You just boosted my ego to astronomical heights” You joked.

Jenna giggled before staring into your hazel eyes. The blue strobe lights in the room bounce off your skin beautifully.

“I want to kiss you so bad” You admitted to the shorter girl.

Before Jenna can stop herself and think, her answer spilled out her mouth instantly.

“Do it” Jenna muttered.

At the consent, you didn't hesitate to connect your lips with hers. The kiss was full of passion and love that it made the both of you slightly dizzy. You pull her closer and grip her waist as the kiss gets deeper. Jenna gripped the hair on the back of your neck. Before the kiss could escalate more in public, you pulled away but kept your forehead on hers.

“My place?” You suggested lowly.

“Absolutely” Jenna nodded quickly.

🤰🏻🩵

The both of you knew it was wrong, especially after the discussion you had two days ago. But you couldn't stop yourselves, you were both addicted to each other. An addiction that is going to generate consequences in the future.

By the time the two of you were back in your apartment, lips were interlocked and clothes were scattered everywhere. You barely made it up to the apartment with how much the two of you couldn't keep your hands to yourselves. But you made it safe and clothed until the door was shut.

Jenna sighed in pleasure as your lips enclosed her nipple. Your other hand makes itself useful by rolling the other bud in between your fingers. You gave attention to the other nipple before continuing your way down her body. Kissing every patch of her skin, worshipping her body.

But Jenna was impatient, she wanted you at her golden area to take care of the ache between her thighs. But you weren’t ready just yet.

"Jah...please" Jenna whined.

The sound of her calling your name was enough to get you even harder than before. You decided to stop teasing her and settled between her legs. You looked up and saw her staring down at you with lust-filled eyes waiting for you. You kept eye contact with her as you slowly licked from her hole up to her clit.

Instantly, she threw her head back against the pillows and dragged out a moan. Then, you went to work. You started your pleasurable assault on her clit, going from kitty licks to sucking on it repeatedly.

“Oh my…fuck” Jenna moaned and arched her back while gripping the sheets in her hands. You hook your hands under her thighs and pull her closer. You moaned at the sweet taste of her which sent vibrations throughout her body.

Her moans went up an octave each time you did it. She felt the knot in her stomach appear and she knew she was going to cum soon. You removed one of your hands from her thigh. You ran a finger up and down her slit, gathering wetness before pushing your middle finger inside her hole.

Her knuckles turned white from her grip on the sheets. You started slowly pumping in and out before reattaching your lips to her clit. You added a second finger, your ring finger to the mix.

Jenna’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted from the insertion.

You sat up and hovered over the girl with one free arm. You leaned down towards her lips just brushing yours against hers. She tried to lean up and connect your lips but you backed away. She let out a whine which quickly turned into a gasp as you abruptly sped up your fingers.

“Fuck!” She gasped.

Your fingers were increasing in pace, they also were starting to cramp but you pushed through it. The only sounds being heard were the slapping of your palm against her vagina and the moans spewing from Jenna’s mouth. You slowed your pace and curled your fingers and instantly hit the spongy spot inside her walls. Jenna let out a scream as she now gripped your forearm.

You felt her walls pulsating around your fingers. A few more curls and Jenna’s back arched to the sky as her walls trapped your fingers and you felt hot liquid around them. Her jaw fell open as choked moans came out from her intense orgasm. After a moment, Jenna started to relax and you pulled your fingers out.

“You taste delicious” You smirked as you licked her cum off your fingers. She looked at you with half-lidded eyes and a smirk.

After you finished cleaning her off your fingers, you leaned down and captured her lips. She moaned as she tasted herself on your tongue. You took this time to position yourself over her entrance. You broke the kiss for a moment to grab a condom from your dresser, rolling it on your hardened shaft, and lining yourself up before capturing her lips again.

Slowly, you pushed yourself inside her. Jenna broke the kiss as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

You loved seeing her like this, so vulnerable. It was only for your eyes and you couldn’t get enough of it. You bottom out in her as she clenched around you at the feeling of you being deep in her.

“Shit” You hissed as a deep groan escaped your mouth.

Jenna’s eyes snapped to you as she watched your face twist in pleasure. She wanted that godly sent sound to escape your lips again.

“Pick me up” Jenna mumbled.

You obeyed her request and sat up on her your knees with her in your arms. You hooked your arms around the back of her knees and gripped her cheeks with your hands.

Instead of starting slow this time, your hips snapped into a quick pace. Nails dug into your shoulder blades making moon crescent-shaped indents. Your lips attached themselves to her collarbone, bruising up the area with love marks.

"F-F-Fuck Jah" Jenna cried out. Her hips bucked wildly as you hit the right spot inside her. Sweat cling to your forehead as you concentrated on bringing her into a blissful state. But there was something in the back of your head telling you this was wrong. But you ignored it and focused on the trembling woman in your arms.

I can definitely handle you…

A devilish smirk grew on your face. You were going to have fun with her tonight. You stopped your thrusts, much to her dismay. You laid her down back on the bed, her legs now resting on your shoulders. You interlock your fingers with hers and start going to town.

Jenna looked down at the sight of your stick, glistening from her arousal, disappearing inside of her. The knot in her stomach tightened and her walls fluttered around you, signaling how close she was. So naturally, your pace sped up to an inhuman one. Your headboard knocks against the wall.

“Yes, don’t stop!” Jenna sobbed.

A couple more thrusts and immediately Jenna saw stars. The knot in her stomach snapped and she arched into you once more, no sound escaping her lips as her second orgasm ripped through her harsher than the first one. She expected you to stop and let her catch her breath but you did the opposite. You kept thrusting into the girl, fucking her through her orgasm.

“W-W-Wait baby” She hissed as her eyes widen from you continuing. She removed her right hand from yours and pushed it against your pelvis, trying to get you to stop and let her catch her breath.

"Nah" You smirked.

Her legs fell from your shoulders, effectively giving you more access to go deeper. At the feeling of you being deeper, Jenna tried to scoot away from you.

"Nah, where you going?" You said. You flipped her onto her stomach. You pulled her ass towards you and you inserted yourself back into her before she could properly take a breath. A long dragged-out moan escaped her lips. Your hands gripped her hips, forcing the girl to move back onto you.

Jenna’s eyes slammed shut and she buried her face into the pillow. But a gasp was muffled by the pillow escaped her as you delivered a sharp hard thrust.

“Fuck!” Jenna screamed. You smirked as you delivered more sharp thrusts. Choked moans spilled from her mouth until she felt herself tremble. She was sent into another orgasm, her third one for the night.

“I can’t. I-I-I can’t baby” She sobbed as she tried running from you once more.

Your hand went around her throat and you pulled her up against you. You kissed her jawline as your other hand explored her body.

“Give me one more baby girl” Your voice dripped with lust. It was deeper and raspier which made Jenna swoon. You littered her neck with hickeys as she reached behind you and slid her fingers through your hair.

You started slow this last time, setting a smooth pace for both of you. Her heavenly pants went straight into your ear as she rested her head on your shoulder.

“You feel so good” You stated with a groan.

Her fourth and final orgasm was quickly approaching. You were almost there too, you wanted to cum together for the final one. Jenna knew you were close to exploding by the way your hands gripped her hips tighter. She purposely clenched around you which made you hiss and bury your face into her neck.

“Baby…look at…me” Jenna moaned.

You didn't want to look at her because you knew if you do, you'll be a goner. But Jenna wasn't having that, she tugged your hair and forced you to look at her. One look into her eyes had you gone, your hips stuttered as you felt yourself empty into the condom.

“Oh fuck” You groaned and gripped her hips tighter. You knew that was going to leave a bruise.

At the sight of you reaching your climax, Jenna cried out, incoherent words escaping her as she climaxed for the final time tonight. You held her close to you as she trembled in your arms. The two of you shared lazy kisses as you calmed down from tonight's activities. Both of you have tired smiles on your faces.

You pulled out her and she whined from the loss and overstimulation. You pulled the used condom off you, tied it up, and threw it into the trashcan beside your bed. The both of you laid back down on the bed. You lay on your back with your arm behind your head as Jenna cuddled up to your side. It wasn't long until Jenna's breath evened out, signaling that she was asleep and you were following her.

a/n: I also change my mind constantly on everything so the fans/public still don't know...yet cause I have a plan for that *insert evil smile*

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @raven-ss @fanboy7794 @morganismspam23 @cinffy23 @darklron @cheesybacon1 @octavias-next-meat-bite @playboysaleen @niqmandu @zaclewiss @yescruzzzzzzz @silentfor @gemz5 @alwaysdangerouschild @onceblinkarmyandmore @melonfruit442 @zataracloud @nepobaby08 @jennasslut @rimaybank @jaewu @j3nc0re

[ladykailitha]

All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 16

Hello! Sorry I missed posting yesterday but I had a horrible tension headache from sleeping on my neck wrong and I was pretty much out from the moment I got home until I went to bed at 10pm.

I forgot to link it on the last chapter, but this is the song that I listened to nonstop while writing part 15. Somebody New by The Struts.

Steve is on the road to recovery but I think I’ve got a couple more chapters to go before we reach the end.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15    

***

Monday morning came and the kids were back at school.

“Damn it,” Kenny said. “I was so sure that was going to work.” He poked at his food with a growl.

Mandy put her arm around him. “I’m not so sure it didn’t.”

Three pairs of eyes turned her direction in interest.

“Now,” she started, hands in the air, “most of what I got is from snippets of conversation that I happened to hear because my dad is H-man’s and Miss Thing’s dads confidant.”

They all nodded.

“But from what it sounded like,” she said, playing with her hands as she fought for the right words, “is that they admitted having romantic feelings for each other, but that Mr Harrington didn’t feel ready to commit to a new relationship having been physically and emotional destroyed by the last one.”

All the eyes turned to Edie. She gulped.

“We really don’t talk about it,” she murmured. “But yeah, after my dad’s last break up, he got really low. I–I don’t know how low, I was only ten and he hid a lot from me because I was just a kid, but I know he had to spend a couple months in a special hospital afterwards.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Mandy said putting an arm around her friend and rubbing her shoulder. “Was this when you had to spend a couple months at our house.”

Edie nodded. “I just want Dad to be happy. Whatever that looks like. But I really think that looks like Mr Munson.”

Harri nodded. “But I appreciate your dad having the foresight to stop and say not yet. Not no. Not never. Not even let’s trying knowing I’m not in a good space. That takes a lot of strength. I admire him for that.”

Everyone nodded.

“So you’re idea worked,” Edie said. “After a fashion. We know they love each other. We know they want to be together. It’s just going to take time. And that’s better than the sword of Damocles hanging over our heads.”

She grabbed her soda. “Three cheers to Kenny!”

Mandy and Harri raised their sodas too. “Three cheers to Kenny!”

*

Eddie’s choice for lunch that week was his place. He shrugged when Steve asked.

“I didn’t feel like going out this week,” was his only explanation.

As they sat at the small breakfast table Steve could feel himself relax.

Eddie smiled at him slyly as he chewed on a bit of food.

Steve looked up at him in confusion. “What?”

“I got to thinking about it after you told me about your troubles with eating that you never relaxed when we went out to eat.”

Steve frowned and looked down at his plate. He had nearly finished it without thinking. “I didn’t realize that.”

“You’re always worried about being judged about what you’re eating and how much,” Eddie explained further. “You even did it at that big celebration dinner with Jeff and them. And when Harri and I would eat over there, Edie was always scrutinizing everything you ate. Were you counting the amount of bites you were taking?”

Steve blushed but he nodded. “I know how many bites it takes for me to feel full and eat exactly that many.”

Eddie raised his chin at him. “How many bites did you take today?” He nodded to Steve’s plate.

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but closed it when he realized he didn’t know. “How?”

“I keep you interested by talking,” Eddie said. “You tend to forget to count and eat more when I ramble. So I weaponized it.”

Steve looked down at his plate and then up at Eddie. “Thank you.”

Eddie smiled sweetly at him. “This is a bandaid for the real problem, but it’s a start. You need to start making a diary of when you get intrusive thoughts about your eating and then share that with your therapist. Or hell get a new one. One you can trust with your eating because to me it looks like you don’t.”

Steve furrowed his brow. He trusted Dr Rushing, didn’t he? But the more he thought about it the more he realized that he didn’t. He had been there when Steve had his breakdown and Steve never quite trusted the doctor not use that against him.

“Oh.” He looked up at Eddie, his lips quivering. “How did you know?”

Eddie tilted his head and leaned forward. “It was something you said on Saturday that tipped me off.”

Steve thought back but he couldn’t land on anything that would have told him that he didn’t trust his therapist.

“You had been with this doctor for five years,” Eddie said softly. “And while grief and illness aren’t linear, you weren’t better, Stevie.”

Steve’s head reared back. “Oh my god. You’re right. It’s not about getting over what Andy did. It’s about not having the tools to form new relationships. And you’re right, I don’t have those.”

Eddie nodded. “I don’t know enough about eating disorders or any of that shit, but I do know something about therapy. Having been taking it for the last twenty years.”

“Twenty years?” Steve asked, his eyes almost bulging out of his head. “That’s a long time.”

Eddie nodded. “Jay wanted me to get it before Harri was born. Screaming yourself awake after just putting a baby down for bed isn’t conducive to a happy life. For anyone involved.”

“I couldn’t trust the therapists Dr Owens sent us to,” Steve admitted. “I always thought that they would report anything and everything right back to him. I guess that’s why I never really trusted Dr Rushing, my current therapist, I mean.” He looked down at the table as he fought to control his breathing. “I just don’t trust any of them. What if they decided that the Upside Down was a delusion and they put me away? They’d give Edie back to Addison. I couldn’t do that. I can’t.”

Eddie put his fork down and really looked at Steve. He leaned down and tilted his head so he could Steve to look back at him. “How long have you been holding that in, sweetheart?”

Steve jerked back like he even forgot that Eddie was there. “I don’t know. Too long, I guess.”

Eddie pulled out his wallet and got out a small card. “I don’t know if Dr Kegler does eating disorders or whatever, but give her a call. She can at least refer you to someone who can help you.”

Steve took the card from Eddie and looked at it. “Dr Olivia Kegler, licensed therapist and psychologist?”

“She’s really helped me,” Eddie explained. “Not just with the Upside Down but with Jay’s death too.”

“Is she–is she read in?” Steve asked timidly, looking back down at the card.

Eddie nodded. “But Owens hates her, and that’s says a lot, I think.”

Steve looked up and murmured, “Because she doesn’t tell him anything?”

Eddie shrugged. “No idea, but I really like her, Stevie. Just give her a try, okay?”

Steve nodded. What was there to lose, really?

*

When Steve got home he made some phone calls and set up an appointment with Dr Kegler.

It wasn’t until after his first appointment with her that he made a decision. He talked it over with Eddie and he agreed. It was time.

Steve made dinner for the four of them like what was becoming their norm. Eddie made dessert.

Which was when the two teenagers cottoned on that this wasn’t a regular dinner.

“After talking to my new therapist and discussing it with Eddie,” Steve began, “it’s time we told you the truth about what happened in Hawkins twenty years ago.”

Eddie slammed a great big manila folder on the table between them. “I wasn’t there for the first few years, but I noticed things before then.”

Steve took a deep breath and then began to tell his story, the whole time Eddie would show them document after picture after statement showing them proof that Steve wasn’t lying to them.

And then they got to Chrissy’s death and Steve let Eddie take over. He even let him fill the kids in with stuff he wasn’t there for, but was told about later in the hospital.

“So the feral dogs and crazy bats story was a lie?” Edie asked after they were done.

Steve shook his head. “No. They were feral and they were dogs. Just not the kind you were familiar with. Same with the crazy bats. We didn’t know what else to call them. Uncle Dusty named most of them, tying them to their D&D game. But I would never lie to you.”

“Hence all the times you said you couldn’t tell us, huh?” Harri asked quietly. “You would rather have us mad at you for not being able to tell us then to lie and have it hurt us later.”

Steve and Eddie nodded.

“The hardest thing was making sure not to talk about it when you were around,” Steve murmured to Edie. “I hated not being able to tell you, but it was properly scary stuff.”

“You could have told me sooner,” Harri protested. “Dustin and them were all eleven or twelve when this started. You could have told me years ago.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah? You tell that to his face then,” he said harshly. “Tell him he was old enough to brave nightmares and phobias for years due to the Upside Down. Tell Will or Lucas or even Jane that they were old enough for the horrors they faced. If they’re feeling nice, they might just laugh in your face.”

Harri looked down at his hands and hunched his shoulders. Eddie stood up and came around to where Harri was seated.

“You weren’t mature enough to handle Papa passing away, Harri-bear,” he said gently. “I know you’re only saying this because you feel I deliberately kept this from you, but that’s not it at all. Okay?”

Steve closed his eyes and opened them slowly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I was your age when I faced my first real horror and I wouldn’t wish that on either of you.”

Harri nodded.

Steve looked over at his daughter, tilting his head. “What’s on your mind, Miss Thing?”

“Just piecing together little things you’ve said over the years, I guess.”

Steve nodded. “What’s the picture like in your head?”

Edie straightened up and said with a smile. “You are far too normal for what you went through, Jesus Christ!”

Steve and Eddie laughed. Just threw their heads back and laughed.

“I’m really not,” Steve said once he caught his breath. “My neuroses have neuroses, honey.”

Eddie chuckled. “He is the most down to earth of the Party, but in no way is your dad normal.”

“Does Uncle Jeff know?” Harri asked.

Eddie shook his head. “Neither does Uncle Gareth.”

“We’ve both made and kept friends that don’t know about the Upside Down,” Steve explained. “But most the people we’re closest to do, though.”

Harri nodded. “I’m sorry about my comment about Dustin, that wasn’t fair.”

“This wasn’t something we wanted,” Steve said gently. “In fact if we could have had adults we trusted, we wouldn’t have had to do it at all. But we kept being dragged back in over and over again against our will. I think out of all of us, the three that suffered the most was Will, Jane, and your dad.”

“Because of the town freaking out, right?” Edie asked. “For Mr Munson?”

Steve nodded. “He was the only one to faced actual persecution for this shit. And I got tortured by fucking Russians.”

“Yeah...” Eddie said, “I’m still pissed off at the government for not going to war over the torture of kids.”

“Their justification was that technically I was an adult because I was eighteen.”

“Robin wasn’t,” Eddie bit out. “And you can’t tell they wouldn’t have tried to torture Dustin or Erica if they had managed to catch them.”

They talked a little bit more about what they had gone through and how they thought that now that their kids were going to be going into their senior year of school that it would be a good time to finally come clean.

It was a lot of things to process and they were so proud of them for understanding.

It wasn’t going to be an easy road, but Steve smiled at the thought of sharing the burden with them all.

***

Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk​ @trashpocket @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @mightbeasleep @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @trashpocket @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666  @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @steddie-as-they-go @lillemilly @callas-shitshow @bisexualdisastersworld @renaissan-vvitch @immortal-iratze @bookbinderbitch @cardigangoth @lilacrobin @nightmareglitter @nerdsconquerall @stxrcrossed186

[mooseonahunt]

Serennedy x Noah Kahan’s Music

With the drop of Noah Kahan’s “We’ll All Be Here Forever” album, I’ve just been listening to the added songs nonstop and making connections to Serennedy (as any sane, totally normal person does).

(More on my thoughts below the cut)

Before the drop, however, I had latched onto “She Calls Me Back” as their song. I am physically unable to listen to it without thinking about them. The ones who get it, get it. The ones who don’t are gonna be subjected to my ramblings explaining the connections when I’m not exhausted.

“She Calls Me Back” is not only in my Serennedy playlist, but it’s also been so motivating while I’ve been planning out a multi-chapter Serennedy fic (started planning it in April and I’m gonna properly start writing it soon!). AND ALSO @/SNAILVEE HERE ON TUMBLR POSTED THESE DRAWINGS OF THEM WITH LYRICS FROM THE SONG.

Anyways back to WABHF— “The View Between Villages (Extended Version)” has had me SOBBING over Luis. I keep imagining him coming back to his hometown after being gone for forever and reliving everything he went through. I’m picturing the extended version in particular because of the lyrics to the outro:

The things that I lost here, the people I knew

They got me surrounded for a mile or two

Left at the graveyard, I’m driving past ghosts

Their arms are extended, my eyes start to close

The car’s in reverse, I’m grippin’ the wheel

I’m back between villages, and everything’s still

The mention of ghosts makes me think of Luis coming back to his hometown and seeing the people he grew up around lose themselves after being infected. He eventually fights and kills these infected villagers, and it’s crazy to me to imagine what he could be feeling knowing he has to gun down familiar faces if he wants to make it out of Valdelobos alive. Also, his mother died during childbirth, he never knew his father, and his grandfather was taken from him. He’d lost so much, and being back in Valdelobos was probably hell for him. How could he return to a place like that and not be constantly reminded of everything and everyone he’d lost? He’s haunted.

The last two lines are describing his death. He’s leaving his hometown again, displacing himself one last time. He’s between villages and everything’s still cuz he’s gone for good.

[joeyjoeylee]

I loved BSOTL! I think about Gretchen saying "Super Best Tiger" on the daily and giggle to myself. My cat side eyes me.

I wanted to know if you had plans to write more Brio or write anything in general?

Anon, you've made me Grinch Smile thinking of Gretchen and her never-ending exasperation with her Boss slash Little Brother-Cousin she will always partially see as a 5-year-old trailing after her annoying her 🤣 🤣  Putting answer under a cut b/c I may word vomit:

I've written a bunch and it's funny you mention Gretchen, b/c I just checked and I'm up over 5K words into her POV companion to the series. (4K into Annie's, 3K into Courtney's, etc.)

I had also started imagining a canon-jumpoff AU where everything is the same except for Beth/Rio meeting a couple years down the road instead when she is shiny newly-minted Super Go-getter City Councilwoman Trying to Do "Local Business Outreach" For the Community (and her public profile/own benefit natch) and he is Local [Crime] Business Owner wanting to work this situation [her, the connections, her, more money, her] to his benefit now that Nick is in jail and Rio no longer has that previous protection on the City Council. I wrote one chapter there and it is 2K words of basically Beth/Rio's first meeting, staring fixedly and obsessively at each other across his desk trying to figure each other out (this means "manipulate each other") while Mick stands silently behind Rio totally ignored by both, desperately thinking, please. stop this immediately. I can already see this is the worst idea ever. please. I'm so tired already. please.

My actual finishing/posting problems with all this are both micro and macro tho:

Experiencing plotting issues with the other POV structures that I can't quite figure out how to fix. Should they all go together, chronologically, weaving back and forth from like Gretchen to Annie to Gardner, etc. (which means something could be revealed in like, the Annie one covering the summer between 1L/2L that would be picked up in a Gretchen one later) or each one standalone covering the entire time period of watching the Brio trainwreck? How realistic are some of scenes given they would only have information they had personally witnessed or been told about by two unreliable narrators? Too much detail and backstory into the own POVs making them too OC (original character AND out-of-character) and not enough focus on Brio? Making each a standalone "arc" (I know I'm not using the right words here as I'm not enough of a creative writer to articulate it) with beginning, tension, resolution, to stand in their own rights given how long they are or just break them into vignettes?

Lingering never-leaving thought that I need to break off from my one "story" and do something new, so I pick up the outside POVs, then tell myself "stop! be more creative!" and drop them again.

The other POV thing has been done so much better by much better authors. I'm thinking of femalegothic's On the Outside Looking In and mego42's listening through the air shaft (and tooshyforthis’s AITA for wanting to stop paying my wife’s ‘business partner’ and yelling at her? Dean POV literally the most original hysterically perfect format that I’ve ever seen with these two eyes and I think about it at least weekly and laugh) all the time and the others I've read over the years and not sure it's even worth it to try to make a pale copy of those.

Pandemic/quarantine being "over" means I'm back in my thousands of people public office full-time which is a nonstop chaotic energy drag on this lifelong Introvert such that I come home every night and just want to mindlessly scroll Reddit/Tumblr and look at pretty pictures and read brilliant other writers, not actually ROUSING myself to concentrate and contribute anything myself (my default state tbh). During quarantine, I could block off hours at a time to try to immerse myself into writing uninterrupted and now I just don't have that. I wish I could be like other people who can furiously write during like, the 5 interminable minutes before the latest Zoom call starts, but I really can't. I need it to be uninterrupted blocks of time with no other distractions or it ain't happening.

Continual (inexplicable) internal pressure that if I start something, I must finish it such that I don't really want to post a WIP and have it hanging over my head unfinished. It's funny, I was scrolling back through my late summer 2020 Tumblr the other day trying to find something and saw that I had estimated early on that I would post BSOTL a chapter every two weeks. That is HI-larious in hindsight given the gap between the later chapters. But I had the spirit back then and thought I could get it done quickly. Now with the series no longer active and the fandom much quieter such that I'm not being reminded of this hyperfixation at all times, I'd fear I'd let things lag even more, and ya girl would be eaten alive by the "unfinished" aspect of the whole shebang such that it's better not to post at all.

Feeling that the fandom has "moved on" so to speak, which obviously is totally understandable given the passage of time, but makes me think I should "move on" as well into some new obsession and focus energy there (have not found this yet, open to all suggestions as to what to fixate on now instead!)

This is more than you wanted to know, Anon, so I am sorry as per usual. If I do get anything polished up enough tho, I will either post promptly I promise or ask you for a burner email and just send it to you so I can feel like I accomplished something lol.

Thanks again for the note, I'm really glad something I wrote gives you a regular giggle - makes me happy!

[sholangagaga]

Glamstar Family : A Fnaf Security Breach AU

Wowee wow guys! I didn't think my au would get so popular so fast (I got like 60 followers over the span of less than a week! Thanks so much!) like, holy cow!

I've been drawing and writing things for the AU nonstop, because it makes me happy and it apparently makes other people happy too! Someone had asked if there was a fanfic for the AU, and technically, there is! It's just confined to my google docs, haha!

I've decided to start posting the actual fic, alongside art and silly shitposts. I feel like this AU could use more expansion, and while it'll take me a bit to formulate all of my writings into chapters, I do at least have the prologue done! So, I'm posting that first!

This prologue takes place 3 months before the events of the Glamstar AU. Enjoy!

Chapter 0 : A Prologue to Oneself

====

“Well? What do you think?”

“I think it’s just a normal child.”

“Oh he’s just so cute! He looks a little thin though, do you think he’s hungry?”

“This isn’t our problem. We should turn him over to the guards!”

“Yeah, let 'em handle him. We ain’t got any protocol for dealing with kids after hours.”

As the five adults bickered back and forth, the boy sitting across from them looked confused. Were they. . .deciding his fate?

The orange one with bear ears, the one the boy knew as Freddy, was trying to convince the others to keep the boy here with them. On his side was a woman with short white hair. Her name was Chica, and while she was agreeing with Freddy, her topic of conversation seemed to consistently trail back to food.

On the opposing side was Roxanne, a tan woman with long, wild silver hair and wolf appendages. Beside her was a taller man with dreadlocks and a reptilian tail. Montgomery, or Monty as the boy recalled, looked like he was just along for the ride and didn’t actually have a real opinion on the matter. They were arguing against letting the boy stay, even threatening to summon a security guard to throw him out.

Between both sides was a man with purple hair and rabbit ears. His arms were crossed, and he just seemed to be listening. There was no input, and his eyes seemed to linger on Freddy, as if watching his reactions. This was someone the boy didn’t know. He’d never seen this person before.

“Gregory has nowhere else to go!” Freddy exclaimed when the argument reached its peak. The boy, Gregory, looked up when his name was mentioned, but didn’t move or speak aside from that.

“That’s not our problem, Freddy!” Roxanne barked back, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the vocalist. “We don’t have to do anything! We could get in massive trouble for hiding a child! You may be the namesake of this place but you ain’t our boss! I’m not taking a fall for you!” Freddy recoiled from the sting of her words, his ears drooping a tad.

“Bonnie, talk to him! He’d listen to you.” Monty looked towards the rabbit man that the boy now knew as Bonnie, who was standing there with a hand on his chin. It was hard to tell what emotion Monty was really expressing, considering his eyes were shrouded by sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses at night? Gregory thought, following his gaze.

After a tense silence, Bonnie shook his head. “This doesn’t concern me,” he began, re-crossing his arms, “You four are the main team here, I’ve got no stake in what you do or don’t do.”

The reactions from the others were varied, with Roxy throwing her arms up in frustration, Monty pinching the bridge of his nose, and Freddy and Chica looking crushed. Gregory was impressed that they seemed so. . .well, human. He’d always thought they were just regular robots with a bit of personality sprinkled into their binary code.

“However,” Bonnie continued, causing everyone to turn to him again, “It’s late, and we all need to recharge. Leave the kid here with Freddy, and in the morning, we deal with him through the appropriate channels.”

It was a decent idea, everyone got what they wanted in a way with minimal hassle. The others must’ve agreed, because they all murmured approvingly.

“Uh, wait, don’t I get a say in any of this?” Gregory raised his hand, causing all eyes to fall on him. Those steely expressions would’ve made anyone else cower, but they only emboldened him further. “I mean, you guys are just robots! You can’t just talk about me like I’m not here!”

“We prefer the term synthetic, thank you very much. ‘Robot’ is just hurtful.” Bonnie said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh Gregory, we were so absorbed in our discussion that we had not even thought to ask you what you thought. What would you like for us to do?” Freddy spoke, walking forward and leaning down to the boy’s height. His voice was soft and genuine, like he really cared about Gregory’s opinion. He hadn’t experienced that before.

“Well, I. . .”

Now that he was given a chance to speak, Gregory’s voice betrayed him. Did he want to leave and suffer on the streets? Or did he attempt to stay and fight a whole different battle that he’s never experienced before? It was certainly a big decision, but one that he found the answer to relatively quickly.

Looking up with a resolved fire in his eyes, Gregory spoke his answer.

“I want to stay.”

-

Elsewhere, a child with long blonde hair tied in pigtails sat in class. She looked down at her hands, which were neatly folded in her lap. Around her, the class was cheerfully discussing plans for a field trip that was going to take place in a couple months.

“Let’s go to an amusement park!”

“No way, a zoo!”

“I wanna go to the aquarium!”

Students rattled off different destinations, but no one seemed able to make up their mind. This chaos continued, much to the teacher’s amusement.

“What about you, Jaime?”

The class grew silent, turning to face Jaime, the blonde child. She furrowed her brow, disliking the sudden attention now solely directed on her. Jaime closed her notebook quickly, preventing nosy eyes from seeing what’s within its pages.

“Go on, don’t be shy.” The teacher cooed, leaning forward on her desk.

Jaime, now hugging the notebook close, took a second to find her voice. It was now or never. When will another opportunity like this come up again?

“The Mega Pizzaplex.” Jaime winced, expecting laughter and jeers from her classmates. Instead, she was greeted by a chorus of oohs and aahs from the excited children.

“I didn’t even think of that!”

“Who would have thought the weirdo would have such a good idea?”

“I wanna see Freddy!”

The students, now unanimous, began happily chanting Freddy’s name. The teacher hurried to calm the students down, promising that she’d set up the trip as long as everyone stopped yelling.

Amidst the noise, Jaime shrunk back into obscurity, a small grin forming on her face.

“Step 1, completed.” She said to no one in particular, suddenly thinking that it was worth coming to school today.

[Chapter 1]

[pleasejustfuckinghugme]

Forever

episode three (word count: 1,981)

jacobs!oc x fezco

warnings: references to drugs, language, sexual references, typos and mediocre writing

wowowow thank you so much for all of the support. it may not seem like a lot but i really didn’t expect anyone to find my work so this is pretty fucking cool. i’m sorry for going on a bit of a hiatus, but i hope you enjoy this chapter. literally thank you so so much for reading. this is super cool

Nancy had created a habit of meeting with Fez at his gas station. He would always be sitting in the same chair right outside. The first time she had come to see him, she plopped down on the ground beside him and gave him a small smile.

“I can go get you a chair if ya want,” he had told her, laughing.

She looked down, embarrassed but still shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

He scoffed at that. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” He stood and got up before turning to her again. “What kinda candy you like?”

“M&Ms?” she replied.

“Regular?”

“Sure.”

He came back with a camping chair and sat it next to his own before tossing M&Ms her way. They sat quietly for a moment, Nancy eating her candy, before Fez finally spoke.

“How is Rue?”

“She’s good, yeah,” Nancy assured, nodding her head. “She’s spending a lot of time with Jules. They’re good for each other.”

“Word,” he commented, watching Nancy closely.

Nancy smiled, giggling to herself. “Yeah, but Rue has been complaining about how addicted to Jules has been to her phone,” she snorted. “I swear to God, she sounds like my dad.” She looked up at Fez, who was staring right back at her. He chuckled softly. 

“It’s just fucking weird though,” Nancy continued. “My brother’s been texting someone nonstop all week. Maddy even asked me about it.”

“They datin’ right?”

“Yeah,” Nancy sighed. “I mean, I had no idea what to tell her. But Kat has been on her phone nonstop too.”

“She came in ta talk ta Ash today,” Fez told her. Nancy’s head perked up in surprise.

“Really? Why?”

Fezco shrugged. “Came in askin’ about Bitcoin.”

“Bitcoin?” Nancy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why was she asking Ashtray about Bitcoin?”

“I don’t know,” he replied coolly. “But we told her we’d help her with everythin’ ‘cept human trafficking.”

Nancy snorted, “Well of course she’s not messing with human trafficking.”

“Aye we didn’t know,” he defended himself. “We was jus’ makin’ sure.”

They both smiled at each other and laughed. They talked for the rest of the evening before Nancy had to go home for dinner. They texted all that night, talking about everything from TV shows to Nancy’s weird family drama. But even when she had seen his name pop up so many times before, she still felt butterflies in her stomach when he texted her goodnight.

A couple days later, Nancy was at Cassie’s house. She was there to help her pack for her weekend in college with Mckay, but had ended up at the foot of Lexi’s bed, helping her with homework. Maddy and Cassie were on one side of the room, debating on what Cassie should wear, while Kat sat on the loveseat across from Lexi and Nancy, her face buried in her phone.

A soft scoff from Kat caused Lexi to speak up. “What are you looking at?” she asked. Curiosity filled both of the girls’ eyes.

“Nothing. Just this, um, article,” Kat stuttered.

Nancy eyed her suspiciously while Lexi responded, “About what?”

“Um… you know, like, uh…” she paused for a moment. “The Holocaust.”

“Oh. Cool,” Lexi replied, not convinced. She and Nancy looked at each other before Nancy turned back to Kat.

“Had to think about that one, didn’t you?” she teased, a soft smile on her face.

Kat rolled her eyes, smiling. “Shut up.”

Nancy turned back to Lexi and whispered, “Do you think she’s got a secret boyfriend?”

“It’s got to be that cute boy in her chemistry class, right?” Lexi replied.

“I can hear you, you know?” Kat called, before the three broke into laughter, Nancy mockingly holding up her hands in defense.

“Lex? Nance?” Cassie called, grabbing the two’s attention. She held up a blue blouse in front of her, a questioning look on her face.

“It’s cute,” Lexi nodded, before turning back to her work.

“And Mckay’s gonna love it,” Nancy confirmed, wiggling her eyebrows.

Maddy sighed, “I wish I had your collarbones.”

The door opened then, revealing Cassie’s mom. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you,” she deadpanned, looking at her daughter with pursed lips.

“Yeah, Cassie. Don’t get pregnant,” Kat joked, looking up at the girl.

“That’s not funny, Kat,” her mom replied, waltzing in the room with a glass of wine in hand. “But don’t you dare get pregnant.”

“Relax, mom. He has a roommate,” Cassie smirked, looking at her mom with knowing eyes. 

As Nancy listened to Cassie’s mom lay out all of her rules for the night, she couldn’t help but wish she had a relationship like that with her mother. She knew that their relationship wasn’t the best, not by a long run, but it still seemed better than the stark silence between Nancy and her mom. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had spoken to her mom.

When Mckay had finally arrived, the four girls and Cassie’s mom followed her out the front door.

“No funny business, Christopher!” her mother called. Meanwhile, Nancy and Lexi laughed silently at Maddy and Kat as they reenacted what would probably be Cassie and Mckay that night.

The next day Nancy went with Kat to Fez’s gas station so that Kat could talk to Ashtray. Fezco sat outside, as usual, and smiled at her as they walked up.

“What’s up?” Kat said coolly, before walking into the store.

“What’s up, Kat?” he replied, watching her as she walked by.

Nancy smiled and waved after Kat had gone inside.

“Hey,” Fez said softly, standing up beside her.

She looked up at him. “Hi.”

“You know what she’s up to?” he asked, a small smile on his face.

“No idea,” Nancy laughed. “But it was an excuse to come see you. How’s business?” she teased.

He chuckled, “Slow.”

A comfortable silence came over them before he spoke again, prompting a smile to take over Nancy’s face and butterflies to flood into her stomach. “You wanna come to my place tomorrow? Since you know where it is?”

And that’s exactly where she found herself the next day after school. They had spent most of the afternoon on his couch, watching a movie and snacking on some popcorn he had made. They were laying together on the couch, and when the movie ended they both looked at each other. It was then when Nancy realized how close they really were.

“You liked it?” he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

“Of course,” she smirked. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” 

She saw his eyes flicker down to her lips, and she smiled. As they leaned closer to each other, Nancy's heart was beating in her chest so hard she could hear it too. She silently hoped that he couldn’t, heat flooding her cheeks. He had placed his hand gently on her waist, and just as their noses touched, there was banging on the door. They jumped away from each other, startled by the sudden noise.

Fezco cursed under his breath, letting out a quick apology. “Stay there,” he told her, before walking to the door. “Who is it?” he asked.

“It’s me. Open the door.” Rue’s voice was muffled, but Nancy recognized it, her eyes widening. Fezco looked at her for a moment before swinging the door open.

“Not today, Rue. Sorry,” Nancy heard him say.

“Come on, man. Don’t be a dick,” Rue scoffed, causing Nancy’s eyebrows to furrow, confused.

“Nah, I’m serious. You can’t come in.”

“Look, man. All I-- all I need is just, like, a few OCs,” she stuttered.

“Sorry. I can’t help y--”

“Fez!” she interrupted. “Fez, I’ve had a really fucked up day, alright? It’s been a really really fucked up day, okay? So I need you to open up the door for me, okay? Can you open the door? Please?”

“I’m not gonna help you kill yourself, Rue,” Fez said softly.

Nancy stood up from the couch and began to quietly make her way around it.

“I’m sorry,” he continued. “But you can’t be comin’ over here no more. Jus’ go home.” He backed away and put his hand on the door.

“Don’t!” Rue began to yell. “Fez! Don’t close the d--Fuck!”

He shut the door, and there was another loud bang.

“Fez! Open the fucking door please!” Rue yelled from the other side. “I’m begging you! Just open the door!”

Nancy watched as Fez leaned his forehead against the door. She slowly walked towards him.

“Fez! You’re full of shit, man,” Rue accused. “You know you make your living off of selling drugs to teenagers? And now all the sudden you wanna have a fucking moral high ground?”

He turned to Nancy with tired eyes. She came closer to him, a look of concern washed over her face. He leaned up against the door, continuing to listen to Rue’s words.

“You’re a fucking drop-out drug dealer!” she screamed, causing Nancy to shake her head. “You know that? You’re a fucking drop-out drug dealer with seven functioning fucking brain cells!”

Nancy was in front of him now, and she grabbed his arm gently, looking deep into his eyes. He looked at her too, and she shook her head, trying to tell him Rue’s words weren’t true. He turned away.

“Open the door!” Rue screamed, banging on the door. Nancy jumped back, startled, but Fezco stayed still. “Fuck you!” Rue continued. “Fuck you, Fez! Okay? Are you doing this because you care about me? If you gave a shit about me, you wouldn’t have sold me the fucking drugs in the first place! But you did! You fucking did! So open the goddamn door!” She hit it again. “Open the door!”

Fezco leaned off of the door and walked forward for a moment before turning around. “I can’t do it, Rue. I’m sorry,” he called, but she continued to scream at him from the other side. He glanced at Nancy, who was trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to escape. “Sorry,” he whispered quietly to the door, before walking over to Nancy.

“You shouldn’t be here right now. You should go,” he said quietly. Rue’s cries still flooded the room. 

Nancy shook her head violently. “You know it’s not true, right? What she’s saying?”

He frowned and looked down at the ground, “It is.”

 “No,” Nancy said firmly. “It’s not she’s just trying to make you feel bad so you’ll--”

“Nancy, go. Now,” he interrupted her, looking straight into her eyes again. “Leave.”

Nancy looked at him, hurt shining in her eyes before she walked away and grabbed her backpack. She quickly made her way to the door, vigorously wiping the tears off her face. Without looking at Fezco, she swung the front door open and saw Rue, who stood at the door, completely broken.

“What are you doing here?” the frizzy-haired girl sobbed. 

Nancy said nothing as she squeezed through the door, making sure Rue wouldn’t be able to get inside. She looked at Rue with wide eyes before stuttering, “I-- I don’t--”

“Were you fucking him?” Rue’s cruel words smacked Nancy in the face.

“No,” Nancy snapped. “That’s a really fucked up thing to say.”

“You know this is your fault too?” Rue continued. “You never did anything to help me before I went to rehab.”

Nancy shook her head, ashamed. “Rue I--”

“And what are you doing now, huh?”

Nancy’s eyes burned viciously, and tears started to fall down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice shaking. She brushed past the girl and climbed onto her bike. 

“You’re sorry?” she heard Rue yell.. “Well that’s just great! You hear that Fez? Nancy said she’s fucking sorry!”

And as Nancy sped away on her bike, away from the man who she had started to truly care about a lot, she hoped he knew that she really was sorry.

[frostedfaves]

To Build A Home (10)

Masterlist

Pairing: Rosa Diaz x fem!reader

Summary: Rosa spent years building a friendship, relationship, and eventually a marriage and home with you. This tale follows your journey together up until her sudden murder. Now that you’ve tracked down her killer before anyone else, will you do the right thing and send him to prison or take care of him yourself?

Warnings: some emotional grieving with everyone involved, brief moment of soft!Rosa 

A/N: this is the last chapter of the series! I’m sad that this is ending (aside from future blurb requests) but I’m excited to have more time to work on other things! I haven’t really worked on I Don’t Feel Alive much in the past few weeks so posting dates are TBD, but I will be opening my requests again soon while I figure it out! anyway thanks again for all your feedback, comments, reblogs, any little attention you gave to this series, I appreciate it all.

Previous chapter here

-

A frantic knocking brings Jake and Amy’s attention away from their book or phone, the two of them locking eyes across the table. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” 

Jake shakes his head, following Amy as she jumps to her feet and heads to the door. Upon opening it, her heart breaks at the sight of you on the other side, holding a bouquet of flowers that caught a few of the tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry for popping up so suddenly,” you spoke hoarsely, attempting and failing to clear your face with one sleeve. “It’s our first wedding anniversary and I was going to visit her grave but before I knew it I was here. I don’t want to speak to her that way and I don’t want to see her that way again and I don’t want to—”

You fell into Amy’s waiting arms as you broke, repeating “I don’t want to” until it turned into mumbled sounds mixed in with your sobbing. Jake quickly came around to close the door, putting the flowers you dropped off to the side before sandwiching you into a hug from the other side. 

After you’d finally calmed down enough to breathe the three of you moved over to the couch, sitting in silence until you were ready to share what was on your mind. You held the bouquet in your arms once more, cradling it to your chest with one arm while you organized your thoughts. 

“I didn’t even get to call her my wife for a year before she was gone.”

Amy shifted her teary gaze to you, placing a hand on your free one with a gentle touch. Jake sat on the other side of you, listening while trying to get a hold of his own emotions. 

“We’ll never get to celebrate one year, five, ten, fifty. I wanted all of that time with her and it was stolen from me so easily.”

“Why don’t you write her a letter?” Jake suggested quietly. “When my grandma passed, Gina and I wrote letters to thank her for everything she did for us, and basically say anything we didn’t get to say before she went. I actually, um...I actually wrote one to Rosa the other day.”

Your eyes watered as you turned to him, a tear dropping as you addressed him. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, brows pressed together in confusion. 

“I’ve been so lost in my own grieving that I forgot you lost someone too.” You turned to Amy. “Both of you have.”

“Y/N,” Jake placed his hand on your shoulder, offering you a sad smile. “Yes we all lost her, but she meant something different to each of us. We can’t always relate to each other’s pain with this because it’s different for all of us, and it’s not selfish to take the time to focus on working through what you feel.”

You returned his sad smile with a little more hope behind yours, placing the flowers on the table in front of you and grabbing both of their hands. 

“I love you guys. Thanks for always being there for me.”

Amy chuckled a bit, squeezing your hand between both of hers. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

-

You’d barely been home from Jake and Amy’s apartment five minutes before there was a knock on your door. You opened it and a grin appeared on your face at the sight of Terry and the twins. 

“Hi, Auntie Y/N!”

“Hi, sweet angels!” you greeted them as you pulled them into a group hug. “Hey, Sarge. Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I just picked the girls up from a playdate and I needed to bring you this.” He handed you a plastic bag that you instantly recognized. 

“Is this the—”

“Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “I was going through the case file and realized this was still in evidence. I was able to sign it out because it had no relation to anything, and based on what today is, you may need it.”

“Daddy let us put something in there for you, too!”

“Yeah! It’s an invitation to dinner tomorrow and your favorite cookies,” Cagney added, her eyes suddenly widening. “Sorry, that was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It’s okay, Cagney,” Terry assured her with a pat on the shoulder before turning back to you. “Are you going to be okay? We would love to have you tonight, too.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll be there tomorrow. Thanks for the gift, angels,” you addressed the twins as you hugged them one last time.

You took your time opening the bag once you were alone, setting the card and cookies to the side and using your shaking hands to sift through the rest of the items. Underneath things like toothpaste and deodorant sat a little booklet titled “First Year of Many”.

You took a deep breath and opened it to a page with a handwritten note, handwriting you knew to be Rosa’s. Blinking back a few tears, you stroked your finger along the page carefully before finally reading her last words to you. 

“Y/N Diaz, I love you. I was going to stop there, but I know you love it when I get mushy or whatever. So I’ll add that this has been the best (almost) year of my life. Being your wife and having you as mine is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, especially after the horrors of coming out to my parents and being framed. You’re my favorite person in the world, and I can’t wait to celebrate our wedding day every year for the rest of our lives.”

By the end of the note you were sobbing again, and you had to take a few moments to breathe before you could move onto the pictures. Each one was from different days in the past year starting with your wedding day, and you admire her beauty through nonstop tears. Some were taken on special events like birthdays, with or without friends, and others were simply selfies from lazy days where you fell asleep before she did. 

You closed the book and took the bag in your bedroom, setting the book on your bedside table to look at again later and placing the other items in the bathroom. You grabbed your phone and sat on the couch, dialing Rosa’s number and trying not to cry again when you heard her voice for the first time in months. 

“Rosa Diaz’s phone. Leave a message or don’t.”

“Hey, baby. Um, happy anniversary. I really liked your present, by the way. Nowhere near as good as what I was going to get you.” You laughed a bit, sounding somewhat pathetic mixed in with sniffles. 

“I miss you so fucking much. I miss your voice, your snorting laugh, riding on the back of your motorcycle, and cuddling morning, afternoon and night. I’ve never known pain like this before and I never want to again.”

A couple seconds of silence passed before you started again. 

“I hope you’re safe and happy wherever you are. I hope you have unlimited axes to throw, and the Nancy Meyers movies are easily accessible. Most importantly, I hope you don’t miss me as much as I miss you because this really fucking hurts. Arlo and I feel like an incomplete puzzle without you. Anyway, I love you and—”

The automated voice cuts you off and you hang up instantly, not needing another reminder that you’ve run out of time to talk to Rosa. Part of you felt lighter after spilling your thoughts out to her, even if she couldn’t hear them. You smiled as Arlo padded sleepily into the room and climbed onto the couch to lie next to you, resting his head on your thigh. You thought back to Rosa’s vows, realizing that her wish of building a home with you had been granted.

You just wish she’d gotten the chance to live in it a little longer.

-

Tags: @creepingwolfberry @rosadiazswifey @milkfromhell @marie-03 @jay-is-groovy @gaulty74 @xetherealbeautyx

[aworldinsideaperson]

It Was always You (Chapter One)

George WeasleyxRavenclaw!OC FanFiction

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Panic Attack! Dementors! Mentions of food, mentions of babies? That’s all I can think of but if there is anything else let me know

Story Summary: Cerridwen has known the Weasley family all of her life. Attached at the hips of Fred and George for as long as she could remember has built a strong and lasting friendship that stretches across House lines and stands the test and trials they all face. But how long until “Just Friends” turns into something more, because it always turns into something more.

Chapter Summary: The start of the school year can always be stressful, Cerridwen starts the school year with all the regular stress of starting her fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry along with the added stressors of her father’s escape from Azkaban.

A/N: This is the thing I’ve been working on for months! This is chapter one of... a lot. Thank you @izzytheninja​ for listening to me rant and talk about this story and these characters nonstop for MONTHS I hope you guys like it!

The sun shone brightly through the curtains of the Burrow’s living room. On the couch a very young dark haired woman sat with a small baby in her arms, to one side of her sat a redheaded woman in her late twenties looking down at the baby in the arms of her neighbor and friend, Elinor McNally. On the other side of Elinor was a small red haired boy with light freckles dotting his skin. The fifteen month old stood beside Elinor looking down at the bundle in her arms.

“Baby.” He said, giving Elinor a quizzical look, his small head moved a little to one side.

His mother, Molly, nodded. “Yes George, it’s a baby.”

“Would you like to hold her?” Elinor smiled, her voice soft but George nodded. “Alright well, go sit in your Mum’s lap.” Molly took George in her arms and settled him down into her lap, his arms held out wide as he looked at Elinor with his big brown eyes. She turned and placed the small bundle into George’s arms with Molly's significant support and watched as he looked down at the baby wrapped up in her blanket. “Her name is Cerridwen.”

September 1st

14 Years Later

A ripple of silence washed over the platform as Cerridwen and her family stepped onto it, whispers following them with each group they passed. She heard her last name whispered in accompaniment with her father’s first. Though she had hoped that the news wouldn’t ruin her school year as she felt all the eyes on her she was sure this was only the beginning. Hugging her mother and stepfather goodbye she moved as quickly as she could to get onto the train and away from the prying eyes of her fellow classmates and their parents that held them just a little bit tighter as they looked at her.

Cerridwen settled into a compartment and took a sleek black cat from the travel crate she’d been placed in that morning as well as a book from another small bag settling down to continue reading the muggle romance novel she’d started the morning prior. With the cat snuggled into her left side between her thigh and the wall of the compartment and her book in her right hand she began to twirl strands of her dark hair in her left as her mind wandered to her friends, hoping that even if the rest of the school would hate her she could still count on her two best friends. With her mind drifting to the two the door of her compartment slid open and two identical red haired young men peaked in.

“Cerridwen Black, you are a hard girl to find!”. George said, he and his twin walked into the compartment bags in hand.

Cerri stood to hug the two boys, “Well Georgie did you look with your eyes open or closed?” She chuckled, wrapping her arms around Fred and then George.

Fred looked to his twin then back at Cerri. “You know what, I think that might have been the problem.” They all laughed and Cerri reached up to ruffle Fred’s hair.

“You’re telling me Molly let both of you leave the house with these mops on your head?” She laughed as Fred swatted her hand away.

“We hid all the scissors.” They chuckled and the three of them settled into a comfortable conversation as the train took off from the station.

“How was the rest of your summer Cerri?” Fred asked, leaning back in his seat.

“Well you’d already know if either of you had bothered to write me this summer.”

“Hey! I wrote you once and George wrote you two very long letters.” Fred smirked, eyeing his brother as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“Three letters from the two of you the whole time you were gone is unacceptable!” Her voice was firm but a smile spread across her face before letting out a small laugh. “Honestly though, if you couldn’t tell on the platform, the only thing worse than the last six weeks of my life is going to be every minute until they catch my dad.” The twins went silent, looking away from her. “Oh come on, I know you guys know there isn’t any sense trying to pretend it’s not happening.” George then turned his head an mumbled under his breath; “What was that George?”

He sighed and spoke again. “Mum and Dad told us we shouldn’t talk about it.”

“You know, in case it upset you or something.” Fred finished with a sympathetic look to his friend.

“I do want to talk about it though seeing as it’s all anyone else will probably talk about.” As she looked up Cerri saw a few third years looking into their compartment as they walked past but when Cerri looked at them they fled quickly.

“Alright, so talk?” Fred offered.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But you just said!”

“I know what I said! I don’t know, I just,” Her voice petered off as she

sighed. “They’ve been sending dementors to the house, and ministry officials have been by every few days to ask if we’ve seen him.”

“And, have you? Seen him I mean.” George asked in a tentative voice

“That’s the worst part, I haven’t.”

“Well he probably knows that’s the first place they’d start looking. He’s just trying to play it safe!”

“But wouldn’t it be worth the risk? To see your only child? To see me? Has he not missed me these last 12 years? Does he even remember who I am? Or,” She paused, taking a deep breath and looking down into her lap with sad eyes. “Or is he the person everyone says he is, and not the person my mum has always talked about.” Cerri’s eyes welled up with tears as she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. George slid across the seat and moved closer to her as he put his arms around Cerri he held her close, rubbing his hand up and down her arm soothingly as he closed his eyes and rested his cheek to the top of her head.

Tears gently tipped out onto her cheeks as she sniffled into George’s arms, Fred watching them awkwardly until they felt the train jerk to a stop. The air felt cold and when they looked out the window they could see frost begin to build and Cerri knew what was to come as she pulled closer to George’s side.

The lights flickered and went out, Cerri buried her face into George’s shoulder as she attempted to bring her knees closer into her body while darkness enveloped them. The cat jumped down and scurried beneath the seat; the twins could see their breath as the air became colder, their eyes trained on Cerri, her breathing becoming shallow as more tears sprung to her eyes and her worst moments pushing to the forefront of her mind; the day she was ripped from her father’s arms as he was carted off to Azkaban playing on repeat like a broken record, she heard the door slide open and she could no longer breath. She gasped for air, tears draining from her eyes as she attempted to pull in a single breath but the air around her felt solid. George attempted to tighten his grip around her but Cerri pushed away, pushing herself into the corner of the seat and bringing her knees to her chest and pulling herself into a ball as she choked on air, the scene in her brain playing over and over again, her heart fluttering inside of her chest, sobbing as her whole body shook.

Then the lights were back and the air was warm and Cerri sucked in her first breath in what, her mind, was hours as she continued to shake. George reached this hand out to place it on her knee and Fred kneeled beside her to place his hand between her shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.

“Cerri?” George coxed gently, “Cerri, can you say something?”

She shook her head, still pressed into her legs.

“Do you want us to get you some help?” Fred offered and Cerri nodded once. With that Fred jumped from her place on the floor and popped out the door as the train again began to move.

A few seconds pass, George still has his hand on Cerri’s knee as he watches her shakes become less prominent and her sniffles more defined. “Do you want me to talk?” He offered, when Cerri gave a curt nod George sighed. “I wanted to write you more this summer,” He started. “But Fred gave me a bit of a hard time, and once Bill over heard him he and Charlie started in on me a bit.” He gave a soft chuckle. “I should have written to you more anyway.” George gave an exasperated sigh just as the compartment door slid open and Fred stepped back inside followed by a tall gangly looking man with dark hair and a pale, sallow, sunken and marked face.

He knelt beside the dark haired girl and placed a hand on her back. “Dear?” He questioned softly and Cerri lifted her head, her eyes wide and mouth open as she looked at the man before her and a smile came to his lips. “Hello sweetpea.” And with that he and Cerri flung their arms around each other in a tight embrace.

The twins shared an identical look of confusion as they watched the two separate and the man had their friend a small piece of Chocolate. “That should help dear.” He offered as he stood only to sit on the bench seat across from her as she nibbled on the sweet.

“Do you two..” Fred looked between Cerri and the older man.

“Know each other?” George finished and Cerri looked over at him with her big blue eyes still brimming with tears and she nodded.

Finally able to speak she gave an explanation. “This is my uncle Remmy; he’s my,” She took in a long sharky breath as she tried to continue but the man across from her took over.

“Godfather.” He finished. “But you’ll all be calling me Professor this year.” Remus reached out to shake hands with the boys inside the compartment. The three of them watched as Cerri’s breathing evened out and her shaking began to calm. “Alright, well since you’re doing better I’m going to go check on the rest of the students.” Remus smiled and stood, patting Cerri on the head as he walked toward the door.

“Thank you Uncle Remmy.”

“It’s professor now.”

“Thank you Professor Uncle Remmy.”

Remus shook his head as a smile came to his lips and he walked out the door.

“You feeling better?”

“A bit yeah,” Cerri let out another shaky breath and opened her mouth again before being interrupted by the glass door sliding open and a head of dark curly hair popped in.

“Cerri are you alright?” Miranda mason burst her way into the compartment, brown eyes wide and filled with concern she pushed Fred out of the way, causing him to stumble and fall back into the seat mumbling something to the extent of ‘no no I wasn’t standing there’ with a roll of his eyes.

Miranda sat on the floor beside Cerri, reaching up to stroke her hair. “How could they send those things onto the train that’s completely mental! I came as soon as I was able,” She sighs and rolls her eyes before beginning to ramble. “you know how emotional and clingy Cho can get, I tried to look for you on the platform but I couldn’t find you and then I got caught in with Roger, he asked about you by the way… again, and then Cho saw us and before I knew it the compartment was full and you know trying to get away from Roger can be,”

Cerri clamped a hand over Miranda’s mouth. “Breath,” Cerri laughed lightly, “I’m alright and I know us ravenclaws are terrors at times.” She took her hand away and placed them both back in her lap and Miranda reached over to place her hand on her wrist. The girls looked at each other and smiled.

“We should go change into our robes.” Miranda stood up and walked to the door before turning back. “And hello boys.” She then turned again and slid out of the compartment.

“She is so weird.” George started.

“And oh so hot.” Added Fred.

Cerri rolled her eyes and took another deep breath before standing and fishing her robes out of her bag. “I have a very particular taste in friendships.” She spoke with a smile looking at the two in the compartment. “You should get changed while I’m gone.” And with that she walked out of the compartment to change.

The strares of the crowd on the platform had been bad; but nothing would hold a candle to the way the great hall felt with so many eyes on her. She was sure Ravenclaw table had never gotten so much attention and even trying to bury herself between Miranda and Cho, Cerri could still sense the eyes glancing and staring in her direction, their whispering and stares continued through the sorting until Dumbledore rose and silence fell over the room as he began to speak.

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become too befuddled by our excellent feast…

“As you will all be aware, after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, Who are here on Ministry of Magic business.

“They are stationed at every entrance of the grounds, and while they are with us I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises or even invisibility cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementors to understand pleading or excuse. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors.

“On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of defense against the dark arts teacher.

“As for our new appointment, well, I am sorry to tell you that professor Kettleburn, our care of magical creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his game keeping duties.

“Well, I think that is everything of importance, Let the feast begin!” Dumbledore gave his last exclamation and with a wave food filled the tables as they did every year and in a moment all felt right. Cerri could no longer feel eyes on her, Cho smiled at her from across the table as they filled their plates, Miranda spoke animatedly about how hot her summer fling had been. It was as every other welcome feast had been, full of smiles and happiness. Until Cerri heard a near shout.

“Why do you think they’ve sent dementors here?” Asked a small girl toward the end of the table.

An older Ravenclaw responded quickly. “They’re trying to catch-” The older girl, Penelope Clearwater, cut herself off; her eyes drifting down the table to Cerri before she whispered. Cerri couldn’t hear but she knew what Penelope was telling the young girl. They’re trying to catch a criminal. They’re trying to catch a fellow Ravenclaws father. They’re trying to catch HER father. They’re trying to catch Sirius Black.

[consumedkings-archive]

ancient names, pt. xxi

A John Seed/Original Female Character Fanfic

Ancient Names, pt xxi: what went we

Masterlink Post

Word Count: 15.3k

Rating: Explicit: sexual content ahead.

Warnings: mentions of self-harm, some slight gore/blood (it's very mild), the aforementioned sexually explicit content.

Notes: Hi guys. I don't really know where to begin this post, because I am incredibly emotional. It feels so very fitting and special to me that I am bringing in the last chapter of Ancient Names just as 2021 rolls in, and so yes, I AM crying, yes, this WILL be an exceptionally sappy notes section, and yes, this is going to be all about you!

There are so many people that are in part responsible for this fic actually getting finished and put out where the world can see it. @empirics, whose unending support even when she doesn't even GO here and cheerleading me through writing sprints; @lilwritingraven, who is so sweet, so supportive, so incredible and just an overall gigantic sweetheart; @faithchel, whose tags are incredible and always just give me LIFE, I love that our girls be out here really feral like that; @shallow-gravy, who not only lends me her eyeballs but also lets me complain and whine, send her memes nonstop, and participates in my very elaborate fantasies of Elliot and Diana living out their lives as dog moms on a farm (and sometimes in our unholy OT3); @baeogorath, also an eyeball-lender, also incredibly sweet, ALSO lets me send them memes, and does so good in talking me down from my adrenaline anxiety pre-posting and post-posting, was the first person to welcome me into this fandom and is also just a dear, dear friend who happens to be incredibly talented. And, of course, @starcrier. As always, this would have never ever ever been possible without you, not even a little bit, not even at all. From the bottom of my heart, to every single one of you, and the people who have left kudos, have left comments: thank you thank you thank you, from the absolute bottom of my heart. Here is ALL my love, just for you!

The emotional journey of writing this fic has been an incredible one. And a taxing one. Elliot is a character near and dear to my heart for many reasons; I pour so much of my heart into her, so when I hear people say that they love her, and love this journey, and love these things that I've created and written, I mean it when I say that it makes my whole entire day. It means so much to me. Thank you.

In the essence of time, I will not go through all of the feelings that are in my brain right now because there are SO many and I am already crying lol. Please just know you have made the experience of joining a new fandom, and writing in it, so incredible!

There is going to be an epilogue following this chapter, and then I'm going to take a short break and start in on a sequel fic, tentatively titled Witching Hour. Please feel free to hang out/chat w me/plague me with your thoughts at any time of the day; I would love to visit with all of y’all!

John was lying to her.

Or, at the very least, he was withholding information from her, which was just about as bad as lying, Elliot thought. She didn’t know what exactly he wasn’t forthcoming about—but did it matter, at this point? She could tell he was lying; he’d been all kinds of ready to leave and go and get out of Hope County, and now he was scrounging up some kind of ass-pull reason for them to stay. So did it matter? Did the distinction count?

Yes, she thought absently, as John’s fingers traced slow, lazy circles along the small of her back. Yes, I have to know what he’s lying to me about.

“Good morning,” John murmured against her neck. “How did you sleep?”

It had been three days since her baptism-gone-awry, three days of Burke occupying the bunkhouse she had been in while she had wordlessly moved into John’s space, three days of avoiding eye contact with the marshal and deferring questions about him. I don’t know, I really only knew him for a day, she’d say when John asked, or does it matter if I told him? He wouldn’t get it, the unspoken words being ‘not like you do’. She hoped, anyway.

Three days of trying to figure out what it was John wasn’t telling her.

“Like shit,” she replied tiredly as his mouth trailed along the curve of her shoulderblade. The pressure of his fingers against her sternum had her rolling onto her back to look up at him; his gaze swept over the exposed skin.

“Bruising’s clearing up,” he said, his voice low and rough from sleep. But he didn’t elaborate; he didn’t say, should we reveal your sin today, my love? the way that she thought he would try. It felt as though the gears in her head were still sluggishly turning, trying to piece together the entire picture of what was going on, a picture that she felt like John didn’t want her to see.

She knew exactly how it would go if she asked. What’s the game? she’d say, and John would look at her with those eyes, and lean in to kiss her, and he’d say, no game, hellcat, and she’d have to believe him because she didn’t have any empirical evidence that he was lying to her. Just a feeling, deep in her gut, twisting and wrenching.

It made it worse to know that John was looking at her with adoration.

Trailing a lazy circle below her collarbone with his fingertips, John asked, “Do you want to do it today?” and she stifled a sigh.

“I don’t know yet, about staying,” she replied, even though she did know: she wouldn’t. She would die before she crawled into a stupid fucking bunker at the behest of Joseph Seed. “I want to wait.”

John’s eyes flickered a little at her words, but he nodded. Elliot reached up, catching her hand with his and skimming the pads of her thumbs along his palm. The words sat there on the tip of her tongue: what aren’t you telling me? Why can’t you just tell me? Haven’t we been through enough, the two of us?

“Your heartline,” Elliot said instead, forcing her voice into playfulness because she couldn’t stop thinking about how Burke had told her to carry on as she had been. “Have you ever had your palm read?”

“No,” he answered amusedly, letting her nail skim along the curve of the line on his palm. “Are you an expert in palmistry?”

“My mama used to entertain tarot cards and palm readers with her ladies,” she replied. “So I listened in a lot. I suppose it isn’t very Godly to have your palm read.”

“It isn’t.” John’s eyes glittered. “But go ahead and tell me what mine says.”

She shifted a little against the pillows. On the floor by her side of the bed, Boomer let out a long, suffering sigh—like he was tired of listening to this flirtation already. For a small second in time, that feeling of peace swept over her, and she let herself bask in it. Elliot thought that she deserved that much at least.

“Your heartline shows your personality, and your quality of love,” she explained, skimming her finger along his heartline. “Yours comes all the way over, see? All the way across your palm.”

“Is that good?”

“Very,” Elliot said somberly. “It shows you have an abundance of love, and high expectations.”

John worked his jaw a little, clearly trying not to smile like he was proud of himself—like he had any control over the lines of his palm and how they worked. “I could have told you that.”

“And it curves upward,” she continued. “Which means you have great verbal dexterity.”

“I could have also told you that.”

“Undoubtedly,” she deadpanned. “Are you going to let me finish my reading?”

He flashed his teeth at her in a grin. “Please,” he said, “continue.”

Elliot clicked her tongue, turning her attention back to his hand. Inspecting for a moment, she said, “You have a upward split here, you see? That means you’re willing to sacrifice a lot for love.”

John rumbled his agreement at the statement and leaned down, kissing her shoulder.

“And these little forks here,” she added, pressing her thumb against them, “indicates a dispute on marriage.” Her eyes lifted to his, playful. “Are you intending on marrying, John? Palm says that’s a bad idea.”

For a second, John stared at her—his eyes fluttered, and he looked like he was collecting himself. Elliot sat up a little, frowning, but when she did it seemed to trigger whatever it was that was needed for him to come back to being present. Interlacing their fingers together, he pulled her forward and kissed her; and kissed her, and kissed her, until her lungs ached and she thought she was getting dizzy from not being able to take a full breath. His free hand slid down between her legs; when her lips parted to allow her to whimper, John’s teeth caught her lower lip with bruising force.

Already, heat was pooling in the pit of her stomach. Already, she could feel those telltale signs of desire, the way that John inspired it in her with just a few simple gestures.

“Want you,” John said against her mouth, guiding her onto him, settling her on his lap. Something was wrong, something she’d said had struck a strange nerve in him; but undeniably, it felt good, that his hands were trembling whenever his grip on her lessened a little. It felt good, because it felt like he needed her.

“Reading my palm is a cute trick, but—”

“How badly?” Elliot asked, before she could stop herself. John’s eyes, dark with want, raked over her as the sheets bunched at her hips. When she rocked her hips against his inquisitively, a low, strangled noise came out of him. “How badly do you want me?”

“You’re—in a mood,” John managed out. He opened his mouth to keep talking—something insufferable, Elliot was sure—but as he did, she adjusted and sank down against him, drawing out of him a low, vicious moan. His fingers dug into her hips and he hissed, “Wicked thing.”

She slid him out of her, and he groaned, miserable.

“How badly?” she asked again, less cloying this time. There was a strange kind of satisfaction that wound up in her, hot and humid, when John let her do this—let her take, let her sink her nails and her teeth into him wherever and however she wanted. Like he knew exactly what it was she needed and didn’t mind giving it to her.

Liar, something inside of her said, he’s a fucking liar, there’s something he isn’t telling us, but then John looked at her and said, “So badly, more than anything, Elliot,” and her chest tightened.

Her fingers found his shoulder and she tugged him up into a sitting position. Her mouth found his; she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled just as their hips slotted together and she sighed his name in a hitching breath. The delicious burn was almost enough to fizz her focus out of existence—with so little sleep on her agenda, it was hard enough, but then she canted her hips wantingly and sparks of red-hot pleasure went racing up her spine.

“So. Fucking. Tight,” John ground out, burying his face against her neck. “Can’t believe you’re mine, El—can’t—after all of this—”

Elliot’s lashes fluttered at his words, the uneasy sprint of happiness making her stomach churn. Something else, though, wrenched around the cavity of her chest—those words. Can’t believe you’re mine.

“John,” she managed out, breathless, “I—”

“—and I’m yours.” John kissed her and guided her hips down against him until she was moaning unsteadily. “Fuck, yes, I’m—all yours, baby, just take w-what you—need from me, give you anything, anything—”

I’m all yours, he said, in the same breath as can’t believe you’re mine, and it shouldn’t have but it felt different: in that moment, having John buried into her up to the hilt and digging his fingers into her skin and sighing her name, it shouldn’t have felt different, but it did. It did, because they belonged to each other.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, on his shoulder. She thought, he’s a liar, and she thought, I’m so afraid of losing him, too, and she thought, we belong to each other.

“Please,” Elliot moaned, but she didn’t know what she was asking for; to finish, to hear him say it again, to hear him say more, to tell her the complete and absolute truth? Did it matter, anymore?

It does matter. The distinction matters.

So she said, “You’re mine,” and she kissed him, and she said it again, and again, like a prayer; until John was saying it back, feverish and panting the delicious words against her skin, I’m yours, I’m yours, all yours.

Wicked, and wretched, and maybe a liar, but all hers.

Later, tangled together in bed, John pulled her flush against him and said against her skin, “Don’t you want it, too?”

“I do,” Elliot murmured, knowing that he was talking about the Wrath he was going to put into her skin. “There’s just... A lot after that, to think about. And I know you’ll want an answer right away—”

“Is it that hard?” he asked. “To make a decision about staying or leaving?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?”

John frowned. “I just—”

“You just want me to say yes to whatever it is you want,” Elliot snapped. “I’d like to remind you that you told me we’d go as soon as this was done.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know, Elliot. I’m just—”

And then he paused, like something wanted to come out of him that he didn’t want to say, like he’d caught himself before he’d make a fool of himself. All this time, and Elliot thought she’d never see John vulnerable, not really in the way that she wanted—he’d seen her crying and broken and grieving, and she’d seen him in intimate glimpses, but not completely.

“You’re just what?” she asked, brows pulling together.

John’s fingers traced along her sternum, spelling out WRATH, much like he had done that evening at her mother’s house.

“They’re my family,” he said after a moment. “He gave me everything.”

Something uncomfortable twisted in her chest. “I know.”

“That includes you, too.” John leaned down and kissed her shoulder. “He brought me you. I know you don’t believe, hellcat, but if nothing happens then what did we lose? Nothing. I just get to keep my family.”

Her lashes fluttered, exhaustion seeping over her bones again. It was late into the morning, but already she wanted to close her eyes.

“I told you before,” she whispered. “I told you. You can’t have both. You can’t put one foot in both worlds, John.”

His mouth pressed into a thin line. He ducked his head against her neck and kissed there, and she thought about what he’d said that night in the bar.

Outside of my loyalty to Joseph, there’s you, and I want both.

I want you too, Elliot.

We can have a place to belong.

She thought about Jerome’s voice over the radio. You don’t have to Atlas this thing, deputy.

She thought about Joey, holding her tight. I never doubted you’d be able to get me.

She thought about how, at twenty-five, she had to bury her best friend in the fucking ground.

John was lying to her about something. He wasn’t telling her everything, and maybe she had always known that it would be like this, between them: maybe, down in the marrow of her bones, she had always known they would end up at odds with each other, John trapped between two worlds that he wanted and neither side willing to budge.

Something has to be done, she thought tiredly, as John’s fingers smoothed along her hip, and I’m going to have to fucking do it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You’ve gotta get them out of here, Rook.”

Burke’s words stayed there, lingering in the air between them. It was late in the afternoon, and John was with his brothers and Faith in the chapel, and she’d ducked into Burke’s bunkhouse between guard shifts to grab a quick word with him. As soon as she told him that John had been pushing to get her sin revealed sooner than the original week he’d told her, Burke’s frown had deepened.

“They’re planning on getting it over with and getting the fuck out,” he said, pacing the tiny bunkhouse room. “There’s no way I’m getting to that radio with them all here. They think the world’s going to end, and that they need to be in their bunkers to survive it. If they get locked in there, Elliot, then—”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to get them all out of here,” she replied irritably. “You do realize that I’m only—John’s the only—”

Burke waved his hand to stop her from elaborating. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want to discuss the nature of her relationship with John beyond what the base information: they had indulged in a physical relationship, and an emotional one, and now Elliot’s priorities included him. As best they could.

“He wants to do the… Ceremony,” Elliot continued, mouth twisting around the only word she could think to say without making it macabre, “soon. And I just think that if I push it all the way out, then it’ll stir up suspicion, after I told him I wanted to—”

“What if you didn’t?”

She blinked at him. “What?”

“What if you didn’t push it out?” Burke continued, slowly, pitching his voice quieter and more urgent when he noticed movement outside. “What if you asked for it to be done sooner? But just—somewhere else? Not here? Make up something about how you don’t have good memories here, and…”

“And ask for his family to be there,” Elliot finished, “so that they have to leave you here?”

Burke nodded. His gaze darted to the window again, and she knew that they were running out of time. “You’ll still be guarded.”

“I can handle a few of these fuckers,” he replied, waving his hand. “Most of them are scattered out, getting supplies. I hear them complaining about it outside all the time. I’ll get that radio, see if I can hear any chatter, and tell them where to find you. ”

I need more time, she thought, but she knew that she wouldn’t get it. Not now. Her deadline had been set for her—by Joseph, by John, and even a little bit by Burke. She was this close to being done, to being—

Free.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay, yes, I can do that. I’ll ask them to take me to the ranch, and—I can do that.”

“I know,” Burke said, and he had never sounded more confident; he planted his hands on her shoulders and looked at her, the clarity having returned from his Bliss-induced high. He hesitated, and then said, “The ceremony—”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I want you to know,” he plunged on, “it doesn’t matter, but I want you to know that you aren’t… That isn’t all of who you are.” His hands squeezed shoulders, the pressure welcoming and comforting and nauseating all at once. How strange, that kindness sickened her, now. “Wrath.”

Elliot paused, swallowing thickly. “I should go,” she said, because Burke still didn’t know what she’d done to Kian, still didn’t know the full extent of her body count or the way she’d felt when she killed a man. How it felt good, now—satisfying, an instant hit of dopamine centered around control.

“The back window,” Burke said, gesturing. “So the guards don’t wonder.”

“It’s all very exciting,” Elliot added. She tried for lightness, pushing the window up. “Subterfuge.”

“Just try not to say that where anyone can hear you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“We’ve nearly collected the last of the supplies,” Joseph said, pacing absently back and forth. “How long do you think, Jacob?”

“A day, at most,” the redhead replied. “They’re working quickly, without all of these interruptions.” Jacob paused, and then turned his gaze at John. His mouth twisted for a moment, and John could tell his older brother was trying not to smile when he continued, “What’s your timeline, John?”

“The same,” John replied tightly.

“A day at most?”

“No, the same as before,” he clarified, even though he knew Jacob was doing it on purpose. “You gave me a timeline and that’s what I’m working with.”

“It’s just, you sounded very confident about your ability to wrangle the deputy,” his eldest brother continued, “and you’ve always been an overachiever.”

Joseph was looking at him expectantly. John knew that they wanted him to say that Elliot had insisted on doing it sooner, that she’d fully acquiesced to staying with him, that he had fully convinced her, down to every molecule of her being, that what they were doing was right and just and undeniably truthful.

But he hadn’t. Their conversation this morning only proved that more to him. You can’t have both, she’d said, like she still thought of herself as a separate entity from him, from his family. But she wasn’t; where else would she find people who would accept her, unconditionally?

Well, mostly unconditionally. There was one condition: believing. The most difficult one for her, he thought.

“I can spend more time with her,” Faith supplied, helpfully. “Maybe she’s tired of being around you boys all the time. You can be...” Her gaze flickered, and she tilted her chin a little, smiling. “A little heavy-handed. It’s possible that a lighter touch is necessary to bring the deputy around.”

“First, you should stop calling her that,” John pointed out, and he felt a little more than petulant saying it. It hadn’t escaped his attention that Elliot was naturally inclined to open up to Faith more easily, and he shouldn’t have been surprised, but it did still bother him, sitting right in the back of his mind. Always away but never forgotten. “Continuing to refer to her as “the deputy” is only going to further cement her ties to her past life.”

“Well,” Jacob demurred, “we can’t all call her baby, can we, John?”

“If you have a problem with me enjoying the marital bed,” John bit out, “then I think perhaps you spend some time reflecting inwardly on why that’s such a—”

The door to the chapel creaked as it was pushed open. Swallowing back his words quickly, he turned and glanced over his shoulder to see Elliot, hesitating in the doorway. Boomer lingered just behind her, sat at the bottom of the stairs, ever obedient.

“I can come back,” she said, sounding uncertain.

“Not at all,” Joseph replied, before John could tell her maybe that would be best. “Please, come in.”

She did, letting the door swing shut behind her, and moved tentatively toward the front. He wondered how it felt for her—coming in here, with all of them looking at her, much the same way she had the day that set the events in motion that brought her back to them.

John wondered, too, if Joseph had known this all along; if the things that he heard and saw had shown him that Elliot would always come back here, to them. Our deputy, he’d always said, without fail.

“I want to do it,” Elliot said, as she approached. “Soon. As soon as possible.”

Silence reigned supreme for a moment, before John said, “That’s great, Elliot. We can get started with—”

“But I don’t want to do it here,” she interrupted, bringing John’s mouth to a full stop.

“More fucking demands,” Jacob muttered under his breath.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Joseph said, watching her curiously. The way they had been, he was the closest to Elliot, with a table separating her from John. His fingers itched. “If you’re worried about the safety of it, I am sure John is more than equipped to—”

“This is supposed to be cleansing, isn’t it?” Elliot asked. “Regardless of how you feel, Joey’s body was put on display here. I don’t want this to be the place where I...”

Her voice trailed off, and her gaze darted elsewhere, mouth pressing into a thin line. John said, “I don’t think going somewhere else would be a problem. Where did you have in mind?”

“The ranch,” she replied, sounding relieved. “Feels fitting.”

As John stifled a smile, Joseph said, “Well, we’ll need to clear out the bodies, but I’m sure that can be done.”

“That’s manpower,” Jacob protested.

“You were just talking about how quickly they were getting things done,” John replied. “Weren’t you? Ahead of schedule. Over-achieving, I think.”

Jacob’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click and grind of his molars, and for once, John felt a sweeping thrill of victory. It was coming together, right there, in front of him—in front of his brothers, and Faith. All of the witnessing the fruits of his labor.

“Fine,” Jacob acquiesced, at last. “But it’ll take them a few hours.”

“Perfect.” John smiled, looking at Elliot across the table, Joseph’s figure nearly eclipsing her. “Then Elliot and I will head out as soon as we hear that the bodies have been properly disposed of.”

“There’s one more thing,” Elliot began, looking uncertain, and drawing all eyes back to her again even as Joseph had moved to place his hand on Faith’s shoulder. When they had watched expectantly for long enough, she continued, “I want—everyone there.”

“Everyone?” John asked, the word souring in his mouth.

“Not—of Eden’s Gate. Just… All of you,” she elaborated.

John could feel the surprise, bubbling fresh and unexpected, between his siblings as they exchanged glances.

“Even me?” Jacob asked, and John saw the grin splitting across his face.

“Even you,” Elliot replied, dryly. “Against my better judgment, I’m sure.”

“I’m touched, honey.”

Clearing his throat, John walked around the table briskly, muttering a quick excuse us as he guided Elliot away from the front of the chapel and down the walkway a little.

“You want my family there?” he asked, keeping his voice low as his siblings chatted quietly amongst themselves. Jacob was grinning wolfishly, looking very pleased with himself, which was something John didn’t necessarily like. “Normally, it’s more of a—a private affair, and that’s how I pictured it with you—”

“This is important to me,” Elliot said, watching him. “And they’re important to you. Aren’t they?”

John swallowed. “Well, yes, but…”

“John,” she murmured, her fingers loosely tangled with his, “I’ll stay, after.”

He blinked at her. “You’ll—?”

“Yes.” Her gaze flickered over his, her voice low as she struggled through the words. “I’ll stay here, with you—and your family. After it’s done. I just… Need to close the chapter.”

I fucking did it, he thought, certain that he was going to grin like a complete maniac if he didn’t keep himself in check. I fucking got her. I can’t believe it. I can’t believe they doubted me.

“Of course,” he managed out, somehow keeping his voice steady despite the rush of butterflies banging against his rib cage. “Of course, hellcat, anything you want.”

“Okay.” She paused, and then reached up and kissed him—willingly, of her own volition, in front of his siblings, she kissed him, and then sat back on her feet. “In a day, then?”

“In a day,” John promised, their noses brushing. “We’ll really belong to each other.”

Elliot’s lashes fluttered. She looked a little more tired than before, but it was hard to tell this close; and if it bothered her at all—if it was changing her mood—it didn’t show. He felt her smile against his mouth.

“Yes,” she murmured, just the way that he liked. “Completely.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jacob stopped by the bunkhouse with Joseph that evening to let him know they’d dispatched the men to clean out the ranch of any remaining corpses; they’d do it through the night, to better assist Elliot in her revelations. It seemed that the members of Eden’s Gate were just as relieved as the siblings themselves that the deputy was no longer and adversary, but joining them.

Which still left the matter of Cameron Burke.

“I say we kill him,” Jacob announced, glancing over John’s shoulder to ensure Elliot wasn’t there—and never before had John been more grateful for the blonde’s need to go on exorbitantly long walks out of the compound. “Quick and easy.”

“Well,” John said, “that is what I had thought you intended before, yet here we are, with him still on our hands.”

“We are lucky that our brother cares so much as to run our deputy through such trials,” Joseph interceded serenely, before a spat could break out. “And that she passed. With flying colors, I think.”

“That’s a little generous.”

“At any rate, that we’ve moved up this celebration for her is good,” the blonde continued. “I hear that the Family may not all be finished. Jacob mentioned that his scouts saw movement, out close to the Whitetails.”

John frowned. No good, he thought, but then—what about all of those dead couples he and Elliot had seen? Paired, holding hands, flowers blooming from wherever they could fit them? How was it determined which ones would off themselves and which ones stuck around?

“Now that we have all of the supplies we need,” Jacob said, “we don’t have to worry about getting rid of them.” He shrugged. “Let the apocalypse finish them off.”

“Well.” John clapped his hands together. “I’ve quite a day to prepare for tomorrow, I think. And when it’s all done, we’ll be ready to settle in.”

Joseph and Jacob exchanged looks, just for a moment, before Jacob said, “Night, Johnny,” and set off, leaving Joseph alone in front of the doorway to the bunkhouse. When he looked at John, his expression unreadable, something uneasy crawled and settled down at the base of his spine.

“I have something for you,” Joseph said. “Come with me to the chapel?”

Trying not to recognize that dread, lest he give it more legs than it already had, John nodded his head. “Of course. Though, you know you never have to…”

“It’s the least I could do,” his brother interjected lightly, waiting patiently as he closed the door to his temporary base of operations and then fell into step with him to the chapel. The evening was brisk and chilly, and when Joseph said, “And where is our deputy?” John stifled a rueful smile.

“Taking a walk, with Faith,” John replied. “And the dog, of course.”

“Of course.” He saw a smile ticking the corner of his brother’s mouth, small and almost imperceptible. “It’s nice that they get along, don’t you think?”

“It is,” he agreed, “like she was always meant to be with us.”

Joseph paused outside the chapel’s doors, reaching up and giving John’s shoulder a squeeze. “Just like.”

They stepped inside. It was cool and quiet; nobody remained. The radio flickering through channels was the only noise, and they rang empty and static, not a peep out there. He wondered if the remaining members of the Family were just looking for a place to rest, or a way to get out; maybe they didn’t want anything, anymore.

He followed his brother to the front of the chapel. On the table was the map they’d been using, a few scribbled notes in Jacob’s hand-writing, and a manila envelope.

Joseph picked up the envelope and held it out to John. He took it, and then glanced inquisitively up at his brother.

“Is this—?”

“Her file,” Joseph confirmed. “What we gathered on her prior to the Collapse. Also in there are my notes from her confession, as well as what appears to be diary entries, recovered from where Kian had tried to hunt the two of you.”

Holy shit, John thought, because sitting in his hands was the exact thing that he’d wanted from the beginning. Everything that he wanted to know about Elliot was right there: waiting to be read, devoured, committed to memory. He would know every single part of her, every wretched thing she had ever done, every loss she had ever suffered, every—

“And,” Joseph continued, “your marriage certificate.”

John glanced up at his brother. Suddenly, the envelope felt—different. Like an ultimatum. If he learned all of this about Elliot, and she got suspicious because he suddenly knew so much about her, and she asked where he found out and he told her—and he would have to tell her—she’d want to see it and then. And then.

And then.

“I think it’s time, John,” his brother said. “I know that you haven’t told our deputy about this arrangement. She is your wife, after all, before the eyes of this congregation and God.”

“Right,” John murmured, swallowing. “Yeah, of course. I planned on it. After tomorrow. It feels fitting, to tell her then.”

Maybe it would be better to tell her in the bunker, he thought absently, and then shoved that immediately away. No, fuck, no, I have to tell her. Tomorrow, after we finish everything.

“Good.” Joseph smiled, and for the first time in a long time he smiled with teeth, and the expression on his brother’s face almost unnerved him. He reached up, and his fingers brushed the nape of John’s neck, tilting him forward so that their foreheads pressed together.

Relief, hot and overwhelming, washed straight through him. They had been so at odds that John thought he might have forgotten what it was like to be in his brother’s good graces, but here he was.

“I am so proud of all that you have done for me, for our family, for Eden’s Gate.” Joseph’s voice rang in the hollow of his bones, vibrating straight through him, spiking in him a delirious rush of pride. “You have done so well, John, despite all that God has done to test you.”

Oh, there it was: everything in him said, finally, finally, finally, someone sees me, and he was reminded of why it was he owed Joseph so much. Because he gave him this.

“I’m—” John felt the words choke and stutter on the way out of him. It was almost too much—the finish line was in sight. Elliot had said, you can’t have both, but he could. He could, and he was going to, and it was here right in front of him.

Waiting.

“Thank you,” he managed out. “Thank you, Joseph. I only ever wanted to make you proud.”

“I know.” Joseph smiled, hand pressed against the back of John’s head, holding him gently. “I know.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Leaving the chapel, John was cruising on cloud nine; he had everything. Everything. Nobody was going to take it from him. No stupid cult, no last-minute hail mary’s from the opposing team—

As he passed by a window into the bunkhouse that had been Elliot’s before Burke had made it his home, John stopped and leaned against the siding of the house, tapping on the window. Burke was sitting at the table, leaned back, eyes closed; when the sound of John’s finger against the glass rattled again, he opened one eye.

John waved, and grinned. “Hi, bud.”

Burke stared at him. He gestured for the Marshal to push his window up, and after a few exasperated gestures, he did—reluctantly.

“Seed,” he said, tiredly. “Particular reason you’re not fuckin’ off?”

“Just wanted to stop by,” John replied slyly. “See how you were holding up. The impending apocalypse must be weighing heavily on you.”

Burke stared at him for a moment. He worked a toothpick between his teeth. His hands and feet were both cuffed, and the guards standing outside of the bunkhouse seemed to be concerned with his tone when he said, “Can’t wait to beat that shit-eating grin off of your face.”

“That’s not very professional,” John drawled. “Won’t that look poorly, in front of all of your little friends?”

“They’ll avert their eyes to let me give you some extra special attention.” Burke lifted his chin, taking the toothpick out of his mouth and spitting out the window, nearly landing on John’s shoes. “Promise.”

Impudent, John thought. Burke really just couldn’t let him have a moment, could he? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Marshal,” he said, straightening up from the window and taking a step away. “I like it rough.”

And then he paused, turning on his heel like a swivel and lifted a finger thoughtfully.

“If you want some pointers on what I like,” he added pleasantly, “you can always ask Elliot.”

Burke’s eyes narrowed. “Your little brainwashed cultist? I think I’ll pass.” he asked, and John’s smile plummeted, wiped off of his face.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” he hissed. “You’re the failing party here, Cameron Burke. You’re going to be the one suffering when the End comes for you.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Burke replied, “better get goin’, shouldn’t you?”

John’s teeth snapped together with a click, pain shooting up through his jaw as his molars ground. Petulant and arrogant, all the way to the very end, wasn’t he? He supposed that made it a little bit better that Jacob was going to off him.

He had everything he wanted, and not even Cameron Burke was going to take that from him.

John flashed a smile, all teeth, and held his arms out. “I suppose I should,” he replied. “Have a nice ceremony tomorrow to prepare. Though, I don’t have to tell you—you’ll be there for it, won’t you? A front row seat and all.”

Even in the dark of the growing evening, he could see Burke’s jaw clench. The Marshal pulled back from the window and slammed it shut, signaling his exit from the conversation; if John had been in a worse mood, he would have stormed right in there and shown Burke exactly what the consequences were for trying to run the show.

But there wasn’t time, because just as he was debating the logistics of doing so, he heard a dog barking in the distance and the sound of familiar voices.

“Hi, John,” Faith sing-songed at him, swinging Elliot’s hand in her own as they approached. “Isn’t it a bit late? I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” John replied with a quick smile, which was not necessarily a lie.

“Too excited,” his sister agreed playfully. 

As they approached, he could see the circles beneath Elliot’s eyes had darkened. She really wasn’t sleeping, was she? Reaching up with his free hand as soon as she was close enough, he brushed some loose strands of hair from her face and guided her close, his fingers tangling into her hair at the base of her skull and his mouth finding her temple. Faith giggled and waved her fingers at Elliot, breezing past him on her way to the chapel.

He asked, “Did you enjoy your walk?”

“It was dark,” Elliot replied, by way of explanation. Boomer sniffed around their feet and then cocked his head, listening while his eyes fixed on the dark treeline. “What’s that?”

“Hm?” John asked, distracted by Boomer’s sudden alertness. “Oh, the envelope?”

“No, John, this stupid fucking Hot Topic belt I’ve seen you wear all the time.” Elliot pulled back to look at him, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Yes, the envelope.”

He opened his mouth to respond, trying to decide if he wanted to be upfront with her about it or not; he was so caught up in his decision that he didn’t even have the time to be offended by her remark about his belt before he said, “We should go back to our house, don’t you think? The company here’s a little sour.”

Elliot’s gaze swept around curiously, and when she spotted Burke through the window, she said, “Ah.”

“You never did tell me how your talk went,” he added, taking her hand and beginning to pull her away. “Good? Bad?”

The blonde watched him for a moment, like he’d said something a little too suspicious. “It really bothers you when you don’t know what exactly is going on, doesn’t it?”

John feigned a pleased smile. “It’s my job to know what’s going on.”

“I thought it was your job to talk incessantly?”

“I am multi-faceted.”

They reached the door to their shared space—and that was a nice little thought, their space, like they had a place that belonged to the two of them—and as Elliot stepped inside, she said, “Burke wanted to know what had happened.”

John closed the door behind them, pausing and looking at her for a moment; he tried to glean any insight he could out of her expression, but he couldn’t. He could only see quiet exhaustion sitting on her face, just there, just within his reach.

“And?” he prompted, when she failed to elaborate. She walked into the bathroom and turned the water on, washing her face; quickly, John opened the envelope and thumbed through the documents until he found what he was looking for. He slid the paper beneath the nightstand beside the bed and shut the envelope, smoothing the metal pins out. There, he thought, like it was never opened.

“I told him the truth,” Elliot replied from the bathroom, shutting the water off. “About the Family. About—you. And your siblings.”

“Well, he did refer to you as my ‘little brainwashed cultist’, so I imagine that conversation didn’t go well.”

The blonde stepped out of the bathroom, crossing her arms over her chest and watching him for a moment. That was answer enough, he supposed—whatever friendliness had lingered between Elliot and Burke seemed to have been decimated by the reality of their situation.

“What’s in the envelope?”

“It’s your file,” John said, plainly. Elliot’s jaw tensed.

“My file,” she reiterated.

“Yes. All of the things Joseph had on you before, including your confession to him and some papers they found in Kian’s bag of belongings. Back in the woods.”

Her eyes flickered, and she exhaled, long and tired. He could tell that she didn’t like that he had it. She had so desperately tried to keep him from knowing what it was that haunted her, though he had mostly pieced it together by now—an ex-boyfriend gone bad, the resulting fallout, all wadded up into a tiny ball of trauma that sat right in her ribs. All of those times Elliot had tried to cling to those shreds of control—and everything about her had been handed to him in a manila envelope. He imagined that it was quite frustrating.

John offered, “I haven’t looked at it.”

“Why not?”

“I thought,” he began, carefully, “that you might want it. For yourself.”

Elliot looked at him warily. “You’re just going to give it to me?”

“Elliot,” he said as he closed the space between them, “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. I’ll give you anything you want.” John reached up, brushing his fingers against the slope of her neck, feeling the way her pulse jumped at the contact. “Besides, I have you. What do I need the file for?”

He wanted it. He wanted to read her file, learn every gritty detail about her, memorize them the same way she’d memorized his scars and tattoos with her fingers; to know her, inside and out, so that there wasn’t a single dark corner of her that he didn’t have completely.

“Throw it away,” Elliot murmured. “I don’t want it. I don’t want it anywhere. Please, just throw it away.”

“If that’s what you really want,” John agreed.

“It is.”

She leaned up and kissed him; her hands cradling his jaw and pulling him there, her mouth soft and compliant against his. He dropped the envelope in favor of getting both of his hands on her, walking her back against the nearest wall and sliding his fingers beneath the hem of her sweater. Elliot’s breath stuttered and hitched prettily, but she pulled back until her mouth was just out of his reach.

Still, though her head was tilted otherwise, her fingers tugged on the front of his shirt and crowded him against her, close. If he thought about it too hard—about the way they had begun, hissing and spitting, and how they were now—he’d have thought he was dreaming, how she wanted him in her space now.

“Let’s go,” the blonde said, her voice urgent. “Tonight. To the ranch.”

“You—” John paused, watching her. “You want to go tonight? Why not tomorrow?”

“I don’t want to be here,” she murmured, “in the compound. I want—”

Elliot stopped, then, worrying her lower lip between her teeth for a moment. “I want to have some time,” she continued, “with you, before... Everything. Just us.” Her mouth twisted in what John thought could only be a playful smile. “Like old times.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, narrowing his eyes amusedly. “Which times are those? The times where you told me to go fuck myself, or—”

“I think you liked it.”

“Your mouth is one of my favorite things about you, yes.”

“So,” she continued, “can we go tonight?”

John, propped up against the wall with her caged between his arms, studied her for a moment. It wouldn’t be bad to get some time away from the compound that wasn’t some kind of macabre venture out into Fall’s End, haunting her with all of the things she used to have and had once been.

“Sure,” he said finally, “I don’t see why not. Just a little time for us.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Though he had been less than thrilled about the idea of Elliot being outside of the compound, Jacob had confirmed that the ranch was cleaned out of bodies and ready for them. When they swept past Burke in the bunkhouse, watching them through the window, John’s eyes went to Elliot—trying to see if there was anything in her expression, trying to see if there was a blink of affection or recognition.

There wasn’t. Elliot walked past without looking at the U.S. Marshal and swung into the driver’s side of the truck, and when John reached across the console to drop the keys in her hand, her gaze and expression were clear of any cloudiness.

When they got to the ranch, it was quiet; the lights had been left on, and while John knew that the bodies were gone and cleaned out, he still braced himself for impact when they walked in. The bookshelf had been righted again, and the strong smell of cleaning solution lingered in the air, but for the most part, everything was exactly where he’d left it.

It was a shame, then, that soon they’d be slipping underground.

“Bleach,” Elliot said, walking up the stairs after him. “How romantic.”

“It’s your mess they were cleaning,” John replied dryly, flashing her a grin over his shoulder. “In case you forgot.”

“I didn’t.”

He pushed the door open to the master bedroom, taking in a little breath and turning to look at Elliot. She was inspecting the room, and for a second, John almost felt self-conscious—that she was here, now, with him. In his home. Touching his things. Looking at him.

It was almost unnerving to think about; that some time ago, she had been viciously looking for any way out. But of course, she had come around. She was always going to come around, one way or another. He thought about the way she’d spit Go fuck yourself, John, the way she’d tried her hardest to be as obtuse and unhelpful as possible, how she’d said in the bar you can’t have both but here he was.

Here she was.

There was only one thing left standing in the way, and it was something he had all the power in the world to change if he wanted to.

“What are you thinking about?” the blonde asked, arching a brow at him loftily.

“You,” John said, and it wasn’t a lie. Her lashes fluttered and she almost looked shy, for a moment; when he reached out and tugged her close by the belt loop of her jeans, he added, “What do you think about getting married?”

With her hands steadying herself on his chest, she barked out a laugh. “In general? Or us getting married?”

“Primarily the latter.”

“I—” Elliot blinked, and shook her head. “I don’t... What do you mean, what do I think about us getting married?”

“Do you like the idea?” John prompted. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the slope of her jaw.

“We’ve barely been together,” she murmured. “And—you still piss me off.”

“That’s amore.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Elliot groaned, and John grinned, sliding his arms around her to pull her closer still. He hoisted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed; when he’d settled her there, on her back and with her legs looped loosely around his waist, she watched him for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve never wanted to get married.”

John cocked his head. “Not even once?”

“Not even once.”

“And why not?”

“Why would I?” she retorted. “The only marriage I ever saw was my dad dragging my mama’s credit through the dirt and then fucking off the second he got tired of playing house. Giving up my last name to someone? Letting someone take that away from me?”

John leaned down, pushing her sweater up and pressing his mouth to the curve of her hip cutting up and over her jeans. Her breath stuttered for a moment, and she squirmed when he let his tongue slide along one of her scars.

“I know this is going to sound crazy,” he said, “but marriage isn’t all about giving. It’s about receiving, too.”

He watched the heat crawl into her cheeks, undoing the button of her jeans and sliding them down until they pooled on the floor with a whisper. She said she’d never wanted to get married, but he thought after tomorrow—after she saw how beautiful it would be, to have her sin revealed and in the open—she would change her mind. For him, she would.

Elliot let out a sharp, stuttering breath. “Come here,” she said, tugging on him a little to guide him back up to her. He obliged, and she tangled her fingers into his hair and kissed him; long and patient, lips parting beneath his and her tongue flickering playfully against his mouth. She skimmed her fingers along his chest, down until she could undo his belt and pull it from the loops, discarding it on the floor.

“Miss Honeysett,” John murmured.

“John,” she replied, as her fingers deftly undid his jeans.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“You did take my pants off.”

He laughed, the sound sweeping out of him just before Elliot pulled him down into another kiss. She shifted and squirmed against him, pushing and working with her fingers until they were skin on skin. There was a second, a heartbeat of time, where Elliot paused, her gaze flickering over him.

“I want—a home,” she said, her voice quiet, “with you. I don’t have one anymore, and I...”

John dragged his fingers along the exposed skin of her sternum, down and down and down, and she sucked in a sharp little breath the second he found exactly he was looking for.

“You have it,” he replied against her mouth, and a spike of heat sprinted up his spine when he beckoned his fingers against her and she whimpered. “You have it, El, I told you—”

Elliot’s nails dug into his shoulder and she said, “John,” and her voice plunged a little when she did, pitching high and sweet and just the way that he liked it; he mouthed a spot on her neck, sighing against her skin.

“Love those sounds you make,” he murmured. “So good for me.”

“Yes,” Elliot said breathlessly, turning her head so that their noses could brush, “yes, I am, for you—so, please—”

So, please, she said, so sweetly, wanting and hurting and needy as she clutched him, as her breath hitched in anticipation when John pressed up against her, slow and without urgency.

“Is this what you wanted to come here for?” John rumbled against her mouth, breathing unsteady. “So I could f—fuck you in peace and quiet?”

The blonde moaned her agreement as she kissed him. Her body arched up against his, impatient, and when he finally pressed into her all the way, she let out a sigh, her fingers twisting in his hair.

It was too good; too tight, too hot, and the way Elliot held him close, like she thought she was going to disappear if she didn’t keep her grip on him, made the trickle of heat turn into a wildfire splitting through his body. He groaned, the pace excruciating and delicious as he made sure to take each drag as slow as possible.

“F-Fucking—faster,” Elliot whimpered against his mouth, “John—”

“No,” he ground out, slotting his hips against hers tightly before drawing back out again. “You have to—I want you just like this, hellcat—”

She made a sweet keening noise and rocked her hips up, impatient; each time she did sent another sharp jolt of desire sprinting through him, and he bit out a low swear and gripped her hip with one hand.

“Brat,” he moaned. “Wants everything her way but can’t—f-fucking—behave.”

“Fuck you,” Elliot replied, but there was no real heat in her words; she said it in a broken, stuttering breath. “What if I want you faster? What if I want you to fuck me until you just can’t stand it—”

“Stop.” John gritted the words out between his teeth; if there was one thing that sent him to his undoing, it was Elliot and her filthy mouth. “God, you—fucking—”

Elliot dragged him in for a kiss, open-mouthed and slick and wanting, and she begged, “John, I want you so badly—I need—”

And her words stuttered for a moment, like she was catching herself before she could say something that she thought might be embarrassing. John’s hand came up and pressed to her jaw, tilting her face back to him so that he could see her; gazing at him through her lashes, flushed and lips kiss-reddened and eyes dreamy and dazed.

“Tell me,” he managed out, through the haze of his own pleasure. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” Elliot moaned, “I need you, John.”

“Fuck,” John ground out. He was powerless to go against her wishes when she was looking at him like that, and saying I need you, and twisting her fingers in his hair and—

And when he snapped into her, she sighed his name like a prayer, like he was holy, and he thought that it would have been a crime not to give her what she wanted. It was almost as good as taking it slow; hearing Elliot whimper yes yes yes into their liplock as he fucked her, rough and a little unforgiving, nearly sent him spiraling.

When he slipped a hand between them, dragging the pad of his thumb across the neediest part of her, he felt her tighten; closecloseclose, it said, and Elliot made a wrecked, desperate sound and kissed him just as she came unraveled, panting his name.

His followed close behind—it hit hard, a strange, empty moment just before the ricocheting pleasure rattled around in his skeleton. John buried his face into Elliot’s neck and moaned, gripping her tight to him, and she arched up a little into him and made him hiss.

“You,” he said breathlessly into her neck, “are getting too comfortable using that filthy mouth of yours to get what you want.”

She laughed, raking her fingers through his hair. “You like it.”

“I’ve said that I do.”

“How much?” Elliot idled, and he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Wicked thing, aren’t you?” he asked, instead of answering her question. Her lashes fluttered, and when John leaned down and dragged his teeth against her pulse point, she made a soft, sweet sound, squirming in his arms.

“I’m going to sleep,” she announced. Having disentangled themselves and slipped under the covers, she settled back against the pillows and he was reminded, once again, of the dark circles lingering under her eyes. “Feels like I have slept a fucking wink in the compound.”

“Fine,” John agreed, kissing her temple. “You’ll need your rest for tomorrow, anyway.”

It took some time for them to fall asleep; Elliot slept more fitfully than he, and each time she shifted or sighed or rolled it woke him up, too. Eventually, the blonde settled with her face tucked against John’s chest, her fingers absently tracing over the shape of his scar until her breathing slowed and she drifted back off.

Sometime around three in the morning, she stirred, sliding out of bed and making her way to the bathroom. John reached over to the nightstand and picked up his watch to squint at it in the dark. He heard the sink running, and the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar.

“Can’t believe it’s almost the end of November,” he said, out loud and to no one in particular, though Elliot’s head peeked out of the bathroom. She’d wrapped herself in his robe, cinching it tight around her waist.

“It is?” she asked, tiredly. “What’s the date?”

“The twenty-first.”

Elliot stilled for a moment. A strange emotion swept over her face; he thought that it was almost sadness. “It’s my birthday tomorrow.”

John set the watch back down on the nightstand. “Well, perfect timing then. I just gave you an incredible birthday present. How old are you turning? And why do you look so terribly distressed?”

“Fuck off,” she muttered when he grinned at her. “Twenty-six, asshole.” And then, like an afterthought: “It’s just that normally by now, I’m—”

The blonde cut herself off, and then shook her head, rubbing her eyes tiredly and walking back into the bathroom to turn the water off.

“Elliot?” he called. “What is it?”

“Just weird,” she replied after a minute, “being... Having a birthday. Here. Like this.”

He settled back against the pillow. “Come back to bed.”

She did as he asked, obliging him as she slid back under the blankets and covers. The robe was still on, and he pulled at the hem of it playfully. Elliot somehow looked more tired than before; and her eyes didn’t quite meet his, like she was somewhere very far away from him.

“Looks good on you,” he murmured. “Blue’s your color.”

Elliot’s attention snapped to him. “Faith said the same thing.”

“Great minds.”

She rolled her eyes, shifting to the other side in bed so that John could tug her back against his chest, burying his face into her neck. When her breathing finally slowed a little, and regulated, John felt himself finally start to relax.

I can have both, he thought, as he began to drift back off. I can, and I will.

｡☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆｡

When Elliot awoke the next morning, the first thing that she thought was, I’m late.

It hit her differently in the cold light of day, to think her period was delayed. That’s probably what it was, anyway—a delay. Lots of things could fuck around with the timing of a period, right?

The second thing she thought was, today’s the day.

Things did seem oddly calm, as they went about their morning; they showered, and John kissed her smelling like expensive soap, and his hands went to the places he loved the most—her hips, her hair, her jaw. It was like they’d fallen into a routine with each other, in just this short period of time; but then, she supposed, that was very natural to have happened, considering that they spent so much time with each other now.

“We should do it downstairs,” Elliot said as John busied himself with some coffee. Boomer had sprinted outside at the first opportunity, taking off into the treeline to burn some of his energy off.

“Downstairs?” he asked, glancing at her. “In the room?”

“Seems fitting.”

He shrugged, sliding a cup of coffee her way and leaning across the counter. “Whatever you want, baby.”

The sound of car doors closing and voices outside stirred her attention away from John’s mouth—a wholly distracting thing—but when she turned to see the Seeds walking through the front door of the ranch, she felt her stomach plummet.

“Brought a plus one,” Jacob announced, shoving Burke forward. “Hope you don’t mind.” He fixed Elliot with his gaze. “Caught him snooping around the chapel. Isn’t that weird?”

“I—” Elliot’s brain fuzzed viciously, static biting through all other noise. Burke’s lip was split and he had a nasty black eye forming. Oh, no, she thought, oh, no, no, no, no. This is so fucking bad.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I couldn’t trust anyone to keep an eye on him, so unfortunately, that is now my job.”

“No,” Elliot said abruptly, drawing all eyes on her. “I’m—I don’t want him here.”

“Elliot,” John murmured.

“Then what do you propose I do with him?” Jacob demanded.

“I don’t know, that isn’t my fucking job,” she snapped. With the siblings all looking at her, Burke took a second and very gently, very resolutely, shook his head no.

Her mind went frantic. What does that mean? Does that mean stop kicking up a fuss? Does that mean he got to the radio? Or that he didn’t? What the fuck is the plan, now?

Joseph said, gentle, “I’m afraid we just can’t afford to lose track of him, Elliot.”

She felt fingers brushing hers. John had come around the kitchen island, and now their fingers were interlaced. It felt like she was on some kind of precipice, some great, plunging cliff into a void, and all she could do was stand by hopelessly as everything pushed her towards the edge.

She didn’t want Burke to watch. She didn’t want him to see her let John carve WRATH into her skin, but most of all—most of all, she didn’t want Burke to see that maybe it would feel good, for her, a catharsis.

“Fine,” she managed out after a moment, watching Burke’s eyes flutter shut in what might have been relief. Or suffering. “Fine, whatever.”

“Well,” Joseph murmured, “shall we get started? There’s a full day ahead of us.”

As they moved down the stairs, Elliot swallowed thickly and tried to clear and compose her brain. Everything did feel just a little bit like it was too much. Joseph there, his shoulder brushing hers; Faith and John, chatting like it was nothing to have her sit down in a chair in the middle of the room where she had been kept captive; Jacob, shoving Burke into the room and on his knees.

It was too much. She would just have to pray that Burke had gotten a chance with the radio before Jacob found him.

“We’re going to have to take your shirt off,” John said, moving into her vision, and didn’t sound like he regretted that in the least. A little rush of relief coursed through her when she realized she’d be able to focus on someone familiar—none of Joseph’s prying eyes or Faith’s sweet smiles to unsettle and unseat her. Just her, and John.

“How long is this going to take?” Burke asked, his voice bordering on vicious. Jacob gave him a little jostle.

“Why? You got somewhere to be, friend?”

Elliot barely heard them. Her eyes, her thoughts, were on John; when her shirt was discarded to the side, he skimmed his fingers along her sternum, eyes bright.

“It’s going to look so good,” he murmured, and she knew that he wasn’t paying attention to them, either. He’d seemed disappointed when she asked someone else to be there, but now, it didn’t seem like it mattered at all. “Ready?”

She nodded, feeling a little swoon of adrenaline kick through her body when John left the room and returned with a knife. John looked at her expectantly. The physical acquiescence wasn’t enough.

“Yes,” Elliot said, and John’s eyes fluttered closed just for a moment before he leaned forward and kissed her—hard and open-mouthed, his fingers bruising where they gripped her shoulder.

“Fucking Christ,” Burke ground out, and John pulled away with a wicked grin.

“You and me,” he murmured against her lips, and she nodded.

John sat down. Over his shoulder she could see Burke, sitting on his knees, his face resolutely turned to the side. She turned her gaze away, too, because she didn’t want to see—didn’t want to see Burke sitting there, biting his tongue and trying not to look at her, look at her scars and the one John was going to give her and—

The sting of the first cut barely registered through the fog of her brain. It didn’t quite hit, and then her eyes flickered down and she saw the first stream of red, and it really hit, immediately slicing through the fog of adrenaline to hit sharper, harder, nastier.

Elliot exhaled a stuttering breath. It felt exactly the same as she remembered; it wasn’t so soft, on her chest like this, but it wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation to her either. Something in her brain tripped at the pain, neurons firing rapidly; we know you, they said, as John meticulously carved the W into her skin, we know you, pain, we missed you, missed you missed you missed you.

“John,” she said, because there was a burst of panic going off in her brain like fireworks. The two parts of her—the one that self-preserved, and the one that craved this exact sting and bite—wrestled with the reality of her situation: that she was both doing and not doing the thing she had tried to deprogram out of herself.

“So good, hellcat,” John murmured, his eyes fixed on his work as he started on the R. He was fixated; he was somewhere far away from her, even as close as he was. “It’s going to look so good on you.”

And behind him, Jacob said, “C’mon, Burke, don’t you want to see what your little deputy asked for?”

“Fuck. You,” Burke bit out.

The sting, the bite; the push and pull. Elliot breathed her way through each excruciating moment, and they were excruciating, these moments, because John was utilizing every second that he had her here, like this.

And that was fine. She needed him to; both for her sake, and for Burke’s. 

Something sounded like thundering up ahead, distant but out of place. It gave her a little jolt of panic. If that was what she thought it was, then—

Elliot saw Jacob’s eyes flicker up to the ceiling, narrowing; she managed out, “Slow down,” just as John paused too, to draw his attention back to her. 

“Slower?” John asked, and the way he said it felt intimate, with his eyes fixed on her and his fingers red with her blood.

“Please,” Elliot breathed. Jacob looked at her for a moment, long and hard, but she didn’t meet his eyes; only looked at John, only waited patiently for him to begin.

After a moment, John said, his voice pitched low, “Anything you want.”

“I’ll be back,” Jacob said. He dropped his hand from Burke’s shoulder; John made a non-committal uh-huh sound, finishing off the unsteady cross of the T. She hissed, squirming in her seat at the pain, drawing Jacob’s attention for just a second long before he made his way out of the room.

The H followed next. As soon as he finished, John pulled back to admire his work; there was still a bit of bruising, but most of it was up on her shoulder, not her chest, which was now doused in crimson. Wiping his hands off with a towel, he beamed at her; all teeth and bright eyes.

“What a relief, don’t you think?” Joseph asked, his voice idle and distracted as he glanced up at the ceiling inquisitively. “To have it all out there.”

John flashed a smile at his brother, clearly pleased. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said to Elliot, coming to a stand. “We’ll have to let it heal for a while to see how it’s going to scar, and then we can go back in and—”

Before John could finish his sentence, Elliot heard the sound of car doors slamming outside, and Jacob’s voice, asking something in a demand, and then a volley of responses: it was hard to hear, a floor down, but she thought they were saying get down, get down.

“What is going on?” Joseph asked, his voice verging on something other than cool and calm, and the sound of it filled Elliot with a bright spark of joy: yes, she thought viciously, coming to a stand and feeling around for her shirt while her eyes stayed on the Seeds, yes, you fucking cockroach, squirm.

“I don’t know,” John said, stepping toward the door. “Stay here.”

He only took two more steps before the sound of Jacob shouting something above them, followed by a gunshot, and then a loud cacophony of footsteps above them.

“Jacob,” Faith breathed, her eyes wide and panicked. “Something’s happened, Father, we have to—”

“Stay,” John barked out, suddenly all business as he was hauling Burke up to his feet. “I think our friend the Marshal would like to take a look first, make sure nothing is dangerous.”

But Burke was grinning when his feet righted themselves on the ground. He sucked his teeth, looked directly at Joseph, and said, “Time’s up, fuckhead.”

Burke’s words send her stomach somersaulting. So he had gotten to the radio. He had, just in time, which meant he’d been caught just after, and now—

Now he was here, and so were all of the Seeds, too.

I fucking did it, she thought hazily, bracing herself on the chair. Holy shit. I fucking did it.

The sound of footsteps storming down the stairs made John’s eyes flicker to the doorway, and he let go of Burke, gripping the bloodied towel loosely in his hands.

Her heart was thundering in her chest. It was hard to think through the haze of pain, the stinging and burning of the cuts on her chest, but it was there, if she tried hard enough to look: hope.

But Joseph wasn’t looking at John. He was looking at Elliot.

“You,” the Father hissed, as Elliot pulled the shirt away from her chest, sticky-wet with blood. “You did this. I know you did, you fucking locust, I knew it the second you stepped foot in my chapel—brought us all here, rounded us up like lambs for the slaughter—”

“What do you mean?” John demanded. “Elliot has been with me since this whole—”

Things moved very quickly, then: through the fog of pain, Elliot heard one, two, three heavy thuds against the door before wood splintered and came crashing down, the instant array of green sights set on them—all of them, her included—and the sound of voices demanding their hands go up.

Elliot watched Joseph, hands at his sides.

“What. Did. You. Do?” Joseph ground out, his voice vicious, the rage splitting across his face almost as delicious as the fear. Faith was crying, and saying something through her tears, as John lifted his hands obediently.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of the SWAT members hauling Burke out of the room first. She looked at Joseph and arched a brow at him, lifting her hands obediently when the order was shouted again. 

“Oh, Father,” she sighed, her voice cloying and sweet and just between the two of them, “did God not tell you about this part?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Things were going poorly.

That is to say, Jacob had a gunshot to the shoulder that was currently being patched while he was in handcuffs—“Can’t have you bleeding out on us, can we?” the medic said, a little too gleefully, until Jacob said something along the lines of I’m gonna rip your fucking face off—and Faith was crying, and Joseph was seething, furiously whispering to himself and held in place by one of the other U.S. Marshals.

Elliot was in cuffs, too, but Burke seemed to be talking furiously with the man who had cuffed her, occasionally interrupted when Elliot would try and draw his attention back to John.

This won’t do, he thought, as panic pounded through his body, as his heart hammered against his chest. All of his siblings, in handcuffs, and Elliot too; she was, too, but she looked—

Fine.

She looked fine, and he thought about what she’d said. You can’t have both, and then she’d immediately gone back on that. Of course she had. Of course, because she was wretched and wicked and clever, and she had never truly let go of her hatred for Joseph, but they were married. They were married, and the U.S. government was going to know about it before they stuck her on a stand to testify against any of his siblings.

“I need to speak to her,” John said to the officer holding him. “The woman, there. That’s my—”

“You don’t need to do anything,” the man replied sharply, “except shut your mouth and wait patiently for us to load you and the rest of your fucking brood into the van.”

“She’s my wife,” John bit out viciously. “And she’s in cuffs, I would like to speak with my wife—”

“What did you just say?”

It was Elliot’s voice, sharp and clear and splitting through the distance between them. In the chilly Autumn afternoon, John felt the spike of pure adrenaline race through him at her tone, at the way her head snapped to him and she shouldered her way past Burke. The officer had taken her cuffs off.

Burke said, “Rookie,” in warning, but it didn’t matter, John knew; they had never been able to ignore each other, in love or in war.

“I said,” John reiterated, “you’re my wife.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Elliot demanded.

“That night,” he began urgently, “that night that you were feeling unwell after your walk with Faith, and we talked about leaving—”

Elliot started, her voice hitching, “John, what did you do—”

“—we talked about other things, too,” he plunged on. “I didn’t tell you, Elliot. I didn’t tell you because I wanted it to be the right time. I was going to tell you today, after we were done—I was going to tell you that we talked about it and I asked you if you wanted to marry me, and you told me yes—”

“Stop,” she moaned, agonized. “Stop—fucking—talking—you didn’t, John, you fucking didn’t lie to me again about this thing that you know I hate—”

“And you signed the certificate. It’s back at the compound,” John finished, trying to lean around the officer. “We’re married. You and me, hellcat, just like we say, you and—”

He saw the slap coming before it hit, but it definitely took a few seconds for the pain to actually register in his brain. And oh, then it hit; Elliot had swung her hand with the same amount of force she might have if she were close-fist punching him, but her palm connected with this side of his face and sent a sharp, red-hot shot of pain blooming and blurring behind his eyes.

Dazed, John blinked and tried to focus his attention again as the officer jostled him out of her reach. He was vaguely aware of Burke moving toward them as Elliot gritted out between her teeth, “How fucking dare you.”

“Ell,” John said, and there was blood in his mouth, his lip split from the impact of her hand. “Listen to me—”

Burke, louder and closer: “Elliot.”

“No, you listen to me, you fucking rat!” Elliot’s voice was pitching higher in volume, and higher in frequency and hysteria. “What the fuck is wrong with you?! I told you, I fucking told you what was going to happen if you lied to me again—you fucking—I’m going to fucking kill you—”

John saw Burke sling an arm around Elliot’s waist just as she lunged again, seething and furious, holding her tight against his chest as she clawed at his arms to get free. His mouth against her hair, he said, “Rookie, take a breath.”

“You take a fucking breath!”

He hauled her, all five feet and four inches of her, turning her away from John, like breaking her eyesight with him would save him the trouble of having to cuff her.

“Elliot,” John called, trying to lean past the officer, “I forgive you—”

“Fuck! You!”

“—marriage is hard work, but I know,” he continued, grinning when she finally pulled herself out of Burke’s grip, “that you’re just the woman for the job.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Every line in her expression was pulled tight with fury, and yes—John thought he should have told her sooner, maybe, but if she was going to find out, what better time to find out than in front of the very men who wanted to put her on the stand?

“Don’t you remember what you said last night? You need me,” he tried again, and he could tell the officer holding his shoulders was getting tired of him leaning around all the time. “I love you, Elliot, through sickness and in health, no matter how many—”

“Oh, John,” Elliot breathed out, like she almost couldn’t get a full lungful of air, she was so out of breath. She swayed on her feet exhaustedly, her mouth twisting around the next sentence that came out of her mouth: “I want a fucking divorce.”

The words plunged John straight into a panic, the kind that made it feel like there was a feeding frenzy going on under his skin. This was not how things were supposed to unfold. This was not how it was supposed to go. Elliot was going to be upset, sure—but he had taken great pains to make sure that she knew he was the only thing left for her, after it all. She was supposed to upset, and then see that it had been for her, it was always for her, for them. Everything he’d done, every step he’d taken, every—

She’s mine, he thought, his face still stinging, dull and hot, from her slap. Burke was saying something to her. That’s my fucking wife, whether she likes it or not.

No one was going to take her from him. Not Joseph or Jacob, not Cameron Burke, not even her. No one was going to put a serial murderer and the wife of a religious group’s lawyer on the stand. He’d make fucking sure of that.

“You think you’re gonna move on from this, El?” he demanded, managing to shoulder around the officer to make eye contact with her. His voice came out tight, sharp—slowly and purposefully careening, but he hated the strike of strange hysteria that wormed its way in there, too. “I watched you slaughter at least a hundred people in the name of “justice”—you beat a man to death with a blunt object, and you liked it—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Elliot ground out. She made to move at him, nails digging into her palms, but Burke hooked his arm around her waist and hauled her back again, much like before.

“You think you’re gonna move on and meet some nice little country boy who’s gonna love you even with all that fucking red in your ledger?” Oh, he was careening—all of the control slipping out from between his fingers, like sand. “No fucking way, baby, I’m it for you!”

“Rook,” Burke said, but there was no follow-up which made it worse; Burke said one word—one tiny little pet name—and Elliot’s attention immediately snapped to him.

John had never been made to feel like he was nothing; not like this.

“Look at me,” he snapped, and Elliot’s eyes turned to him; but he saw the fury split across her face, the absolute indignant rage. “You’re going to spend one day back in polite society and come unglued, Elliot Honeysett, and when you fucking do—you’ll be begging for me to take you back, and I guarantee you I fucking won’t.”

“That’s enough,” Burke said, but he was speaking to Elliot, looking at her.

“Maybe,” she hissed, pushing at Burke’s arm as blood seeped through the wound on her chest “you should have considered how I would react to you being a pathological liar before you fucking came inside me, you cunt.”

Her words sent a strange, uncomfortable sensation sprinting down his spine. She couldn’t be, John thought, alluding to—

But she had been surprised when he told her it was her birthday, like she hadn’t realized what day it was, and had said something like, normally by now I’m, and just hadn’t finished her thought. 

“Okay.” Burke pulled her back a few more steps, his voice strained. Pulled her away from him. “We’re taking a walk. You and me, Rookie.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” John called after her, panic rising in his voice. “Elliot? Tell me what you—”

“I mean I’m late, fuckhead,” Elliot spit at him over Burke’s shoulder.

The officer pulled him back towards the truck, dragging him by his arm as Burke took Elliot around the corner of the ranch house. His stomach was lurching nauseatingly, trying to piece it together. Had it been long enough? Of course, it had—it had been over a month, probably, maybe even more because he didn’t know how to keep track of time when he’d been drugged and kidnapped and dragged around.

If she is, he thought, frantic; if she does have my child, if she’s—

“John,” Joseph said, his voice eerily quiet as he was pushed into a sitting position across from his brother. He seemed to have recovered from his outburst earlier; there was an odd grimness about his expression. “We must remain focused.”

“She—” John blinked rapidly, trying to gather his fraying, desperate thoughts. “Joseph, she might—”

Joseph lifted a finger to his lips to signal silence. Jacob’s breathing was labored but controlled, and Faith’s gentle crying had been snuffed out. She’d only been the damsel for a few minutes before she tried to storm her way out of their grip.

“The task at hand,” Joseph cautioned him. “Then, we will figure out what to do for your son.”

My son. The words echoed hazily in his brain as the van doors slammed shut, eclipsing them.

“How do you know?” John demanded. “You know? You know that she’s—with my—”

“Of course,” his brother replied, still keeping his voice soft.

“God told me.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Take a breath.”

“No.”

“Rookie.” Burke’s voice was hard. “Look at me and take breath.”

She couldn’t. Every inch of her body was screaming—desperate for a reprieve, but there was none to be had because she was still nursing her WRATH wound, because she was heaving out great, panicked breaths between ragged cries.

“I can’t,” Elliot moaned, her hands shaking, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t—”

Burke snagged her hand and pressed it to his neck, just like before, but this time it didn’t do anything; this time, she just felt the spiral hit harder, the overwhelming sensation of touching and being touched sending her brain sprinting in panic.

She yanked her hand out of his grip and clutched her knees to her chest, ignoring the warm seep of blood even against the bandages the medic had patched her with and the sting of the pressure of her bones pressed up against the wound.

Burke stayed, and she noticed. He stayed, and he didn’t have to—he was done, free, could leave and go home—but he stayed sitting there with her, against the side of the Seed ranch, wherein many ways, things for her had began.

So, she cried; she sobbed into her jeans until she thought she was going to be dizzy from gasping for air, and Burke stayed, and waited until her hand fumbled for his blindly before he touched her again. His fingers gripped hers, firm and soothing.

“Is it true?” he asked, when she had stopped her crying, when she had breathed so much there was too much oxygen in her brain. His gaze flickered over her. “That you’re… With that fucker’s…”

“I don’t know,” Elliot replied, exhausted. “I’m—fuck, I’m late, and I didn’t realize until yesterday, because it’s been so fucking—”

Burke passed his free hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry,” and the words came out of her agonized; because she could hear the disappointment in his voice, or what she thought was disappointment. “I thought—I thought he—Burke, I—”

“I know, Rook,” Burke murmured, not unkindly. “Just focus on breathing. I know.”

A few more moments of silence passed between them, filled only with the sound of voices and out and the kick of an engine starting and pulling out from the ranch. After her breathing had evened out again, Burke said, “They’re going to be retrieving Kian’s body.”

Elliot stared at the ground, feeling numb. He didn’t have to say; she knew what that meant. Government officials were going to see what she’d done to Kian. They were going to see it, and see that she was legally married to one of them, and see that she was carrying the child of one of them, and see her history, and all of these things were going to add up.

The picture was not going to be a good one.

“I’ve gotta take you in, Rook,” Burke said quietly. “At the very least, to a therapist.”

She sniffed. I love you, John had said, after he’d lied. Lied, and lied, and lied, and used her, and lied, and if he loved her, he didn’t love her in any way that she understood.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Yeah.”

“I know what you’ve been through, and you know I’ll vouch for you. I saw firsthand the kind of—the shit that was going on,” he insisted. “I just—want you to have a realistic picture of what it’s gonna look like, when we get back. They’re gonna autopsy Kian’s body, and—”

She took in a long, suffering breath. “I’m really tired,” Elliot said, her voice breaking a little. “Can we—are we going straight there, or?”

Burke paused, his expression softening, and shook his head. “We’ll hit a motel or two along the way.”

Elliot nodded, closing her eyes and pressing her face back into her knees. She stayed like that for a while; it was hard to tell how much time passed, but eventually, someone came around the corner and said something to Burke, and he tugged her to her feet and walked her to the car.

The sensation of Burke’s hand slipping out of hers sent another burst of panic flooding through her; her body was so tired, so very fucking tired of managing the adrenaline, but the more she tried to calm down the more tired she got.

“I want to stay with you,” she said, feeling hazy and tightening her hand around Burke’s. The Marshal looked at her for a long moment and then nodded.

“Alright, kid,” he murmured, reaching up and squeezing her shoulder. “We’ll stick together.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Time passed differently, after that. Elliot couldn’t have said how long it took them to get to the first motel; it couldn’t have been seconds, or minutes, or months for all that she knew. She was numb when they set her up in a motel room with two beds, she was numb when they checked her scar and redressed it.

“Fucking Christ,” the medic said under his breath when he saw the WRATH wound, still hot and trying its best to scab over. “You poor thing.”

It’s not me, Elliot thought miserably, opening her mouth; but no words would come. All she could think was, I asked for this, I’m not the poor thing, please don’t.

“Hey,” Burke barked out, his voice sharp as he took in Elliot’s crumpling expression. “Let’s get it cleaned and let her sleep, buddy.”

The medic nodded, thoroughly scolded, and worked quickly after that. When he’d finished and she had swallowed two Tylenol dutifully, Burke watched her climb under the covers of the bed and said, “I’ve gotta make a call. You okay in here?”

She swallowed thickly. He was looking at her like he was wary of her. The same way Whitehorse had looked at her.

“Yeah,” Elliot murmured. “I’m fine.”

He gave her a tight, tired smile and then stepped out of the motel room, closing the door behind him. Silence lingered there for a little while; Elliot tried to close her eyes and sleep, her fingers brushing through Boomer’s fur as he dozed, but the low, murmuring sound of Burke talking just outside stirred her anxiety, and each time she closed her eyes she just saw John’s face.

John, holding her face and kissing her, You and me. John, burying his face into her neck, I love you.

John, their noses brushing, We can have a place to belong, Elliot.

John, vicious and unyielding, I’m it for you.

She lurched out of the bed, pushing her way into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her just in time to lean over the toilet and throw up whatever was left in her stomach—which wasn’t much, if the amount of dry-heaving were any indication. Bile burned at the back of her throat, and she thought if she didn’t get a breath of air she was going to fucking die.

Elliot pushed the window open and tried to steady her breathing. Rinsing her mouth out in the sink, she shut the water off and paused, looking at herself in the mirror.

The person that looked back at her was unfamiliar. A stranger. She blinked rapidly, trying to steady herself, but each time she did, she felt less and less familiar with the gaunt, sharp-faced, dark-eyed stranger gazing back at her from the mirror. Some bruises along her neck and shoulders still remained.

Who are you? She thought, tiredly. The one that killed all of those peggies? The one that killed Kian? Why don’t I recognize you?

“... understand that, sir, it’s just—if you saw what was going on...”

Burke’s voice drifted in through the window. He must have been pacing, because the volume of his words drifted and moved, as though he were walking around the corner and then back again.

His footsteps paused. “No, I have not read the autopsy report yet. I didn’t think it pertinent at this time, considering we only just—”

She heard Burke’s words cut abruptly, the sound of his breath leaving him in a sharp exhale, and then he said, “Jesus Christ. No, I didn’t know.”

Oh, she thought hazily, oh, he knows. He knows what I did.

Her body moved automatically. Something inside of her kicked—we’re not done yet, it said, ferocious and furious, sinking its teeth into her and operating her body outside of her own executive function. We’re not fucking done yet.

Elliot pulled her sweater and her shoes on. The late autumn chill drifting through the open window made her mind feel sharp, and clear, and she thought, somthing has to be done, and I’ll fucking do it.

She stuffed a couple of things that felt essential into a bag—painkillers, bottles of water from the fridge, Burke’s gun he’d left on the nightstand closest to the door—and then waited until she heard his footsteps pacing around the corner again before she ducked out of the window.

When she looked back, Boomer had already leapt through the window after her. His eyes were on her, bright, ready.

And then she ran.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She’s twenty-six, and she’s in a bar.

Or that’s how it would go, anyway, if she was asleep. If she were dreaming, or remembering. But she wasn’t. Elliot was twenty-six, and she was in a bar, and she wasn’t waiting for her best friend to come back with a different drink, and she wasn’t making eyes at a handsome blue-eyed stranger from across the bar. He wouldn’t come over and call her beautiful, and he wouldn’t make her want to be kissed by someone whose face looked a little sharp, and she wouldn’t one day think that maybe she was in love with him.

I’m just a girl, she thought tiredly, staring at the water glass on the counter in front of her. This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

But it was. It was her life. Here she was, sitting in a seedy bar halfway to Georgia, with a U.S. Marshal’s gun she’d lifted sitting in her bag. She’d hitch-hiked a ride back into Fall’s End, grabbed what remained of her things—her ID, what little cash she still had on her, a debit card she was too paranoid to use, dog food—and then she’d taken the jeep parked out behind the Keller’s old place and drove.

And drove. And drove. And drove.

Now, she was twenty-six, sitting in a bar, and there is no Joey coming to rescue her, and there is no John to be a monster that she needed rescuing from.

I’m just a girl. This wasn’t supposed to be my life.

She left the cash for her water on the bar top, hauling herself out of the stool and back out into the parking lot. It was late; the sky was speckled with stars; if she thought hard enough, if she really thought about, Elliot thought maybe, somewhere inside of her, she was going to be okay.

As she climbed into the driver’s seat of the jeep, Elliot turned the key into the ignition and reached into a grocery store bag on the passenger seat, fumbling around for the cigarettes she’d purchased. Her fingers hit hard plastic and she glanced over.

The two little tiny lines on the pregnancy test stared back at her. Her stomach lurched, nausea welling up inside of her, and she tossed the hard plastic back into the bag and left the cigarettes untouched. Boomer, dozing in the back seat, pricked his ears forward and looked at her inquisitively.

She was just a girl. This wasn’t supposed to be her life. But it was—and there was only one place left to go from here.

Home.

[thepropertylovers]

On Turning 30

In five days, I turn 30.

For some reason, that seems strange to type. I think I always had this idea in my head that 30 seemed so old, so boring, so…30. But now that it’s actually here (which, thank goodness I am still able to celebrate another year of life), I am welcoming it with open arms.

Though my life changed dramatically in my 20’s (I came out at 19 after meeting PJ, we got engaged, got married, bought my childhood home back, filmed a pilot for HGTV, became foster parents, travelled to different parts of the world, met amazing people, etc.), a few days before my birthday, I am finding myself excited to start a new decade of life; new chapter, of sorts, one that is promising to be just as exciting as the last.

I feel like your 20’s are messy. Fun, exciting, and adventurous, but messy. I spent my early 20’s trying to find myself while simultaneously thinking I knew exactly who I was. But I didn’t, did I? Does anyone really know themselves at that age? I mean even if you 100% think you do, there’s still so much discovery that happens during those 10 years that lead you into your 30’s that there’s no way to understand yourself, fully. At least, that’s my interpretation of it.

I am going into my 30’s with a much better understanding of who I am and who I’m not, who I’ll always be and who I’ll never be. I am going in with a better understanding of my marriage and of my husband, with more love than I think I’ve ever had for him and our union together. Our life has taken so many twists and turns in the last five years and I think we’re exactly where we’re meant to be, which, I feel incredibly grateful and thankful to say. I feel much gratitude to share a life with someone who challenges me to work harder and be a better person, who I (hopefully) inspire to be a better person, too.

All of that is not to say our marriage is perfect. It’s far from it, but I can confidently say we both work every day to choose each other forever, which can look like many different things: saying “I love you” before bed every night, saying “I’m sorry” even when it’s the last thing you want to do, listening and communicating with each other, taking the other’s feelings into account whenever you can. So again, it’s not perfect, but it’s ours. And I’m grateful.

I think some of my contentment and excitement to turn 30 also comes from being a parent, and being one with PJ. Experiencing parenthood with him has been a rollercoaster of emotions and many hard situations, but it’s also the greatest thing we’ve ever done. Our kiddos have changed our life in every way imaginable, a change I don’t think either of us could have accurately anticipated (who could, really?). I have learned more in the last two years about my abilities, my shortcomings, my strengths and weaknesses, and how far I can push myself, than I think I ever have. There’s nothing that tests you as a person, as a human being, quite like children. I only thought I knew who I was before them. What would we do without those three?

Though it didn’t always feel like this (trust me), my life feels good at this time. I almost feel guilty for saying that, because I know so many are suffering in unfathomable ways right now, but it’s how I feel currently. I have learned over the years that it’s okay to be happy, that your happiness is such a key factor in the success of your life, your relationships, your work. I’ve also learned that when you feel happiness, you should try to hold onto that as long as possible, and never take it for granted. I feel things so deeply (can you tell?) and have made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I am choosing happiness and realizing that I have every right to be happy just as much as anybody does. I hope you realize that, too, friend.

A big part of my happiness right now, of both mine and PJ’s, is the land. As you know, because I’ve being writing about it nonstop lately, we’re both loving our time out here with the kiddos, experiencing nature with them and the animals, and planning for the future. The land and Holiday House give us so much inspiration and the possibilities of both spark a creativity in us that I think we haven’t felt in some time. We both wake up every day saying things like, “Well what if we did this and what if we planted these; what if we put this here and maybe we could get XYZ to put there.” It’s an exciting thing when something new like this comes along and completely consumes your life.

I’m not the smartest person or always the easiest to get along with; I’m not extremely outgoing and I can be lazy; even though I come across as easy-going, I can lose my temper at times; and at the end of the day, there’s nothing particularly extraordinary about me. But as I’m entering the next decade of my life, I’ve learned along the way that the world doesn’t need me or you to be extraordinary to be a good person.

The best we can all do is to wake up every day and do what we can to leave the world a little better than what we left it, and that can look like many different things: telling someone you love them, nurturing your body, protecting the earth, hugging your kids or your animals, making a cup of coffee for your husband, learning something new, talking and listening to people from different backgrounds and cultures than you, educating yourself on social issues; the cool thing about life is the list of ways to better ourselves and our planet is infinite.

I think my 30’s might be my favorite yet. I am hopeful, cautious, and optimistic about what this time in my life might bring me and my family. I know there will be incredibly difficult times and incredibly joyful times, and as I’m sitting here writing this and the rain is coming down outside and the kids and PJ are all in front of me doing their own things, I have an overwhelming sense that, together, there’s nothing the five of us can’t do.

I’m ready for you, 30. Let’s do this.

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 14

[Alright! We’ve officially made it to the boys heading off to Earth! I took some creative liberties with the scene in which they find out about Raditz’s death and the dragonballs, as well as making better sense of how they can just...fuck off for a year without permission basically? IDK it’s bothered me for a long time and I found a fun way to work around and fix that, among making better sense of a few other minor weird inconsistencies in canon!

That said, the chapters from here on out MAY look a little different. Canon shit will be glossed over more, as I’m not here to just completely re-write out canon scenes. Obviously some are going to be done, but not all. Additionally, we will probably be in Nabooru’s perspective more often than not, but I haven’t fully decided. It’s either mostly Nabs with a few Vegeta only chapters here and there OR I’ll do like I did with the Conversations project and write both of their perspectives at once. BUT this is just me speculating and giving fair warning :3.

As usual, you can read the rest of the fic and other things over here! Thanks to all of you who consistently like and read this and enable my dumb ass :’3]

Vegeta

The next few months sped by, fueled by near nonstop work assigned to the pair of Saiyans. They finished one purge and moved to the next before they could catch their breath, and for it, Vegeta was glad. Through all his effort to maintain normalcy and pretend nothing had changed proved difficult in any stretch of downtime. The upset of Nabooru's promotion threw a hefty wrench into an already flimsy plan, robbing him of the only competent training partner who could begin to pose a challenge and that he could trust not to squeal when it came to his true motives. 

Trust. The very thought of the word made him want to scream. Dismantle his pod piece by piece with him inside it. Until she stepped to Frieza's side that day and reprimanded him for sending Raditz off to Earth like he was some child, he didn't realize that he had developed a modicum of trust in her. Further than that moment they shared behind closed doors, the playful, silent agreement that he did trust her. Despite his denial of it and little thought given the moment after. The situation had him questioning even Nappa's loyalty. When would the general and the man who all but raised him turn on him? Would he ever hear from Raditz again, or had the coward used his supposed brother as an excuse to make an escape?

A lesson learned the hard way, as all of them seemed to be for him: trust no one, no matter what. Only power and strength mattered in the end. Both things he needed more of to realize his plans.

The pod's AI system clocked their arrival at their destination at ten minutes, jolting him from his perturbed thoughts for just a moment. He ignored whatever comment Nappa made about finally getting to stretch his legs and informing Nabooru of their arrival on Arglin. Another ridiculous stipulation put in place by Frieza after their meeting: check in when you land and check out when you leave along with at least one daily report if the job lasted more than a single day. All of which he left to Nappa because he couldn't guarantee how his temper would fare just hearing the Gerudo's voice. Because he couldn’t stand to be out of the loop, he still listened in on their conversation, silently seething and left in a worse mood when they ended the call. The times Zarbon had to step in for her due to her healing from her injuries sustained in training were almost a blessing, the amount of irritation in hearing the pompous general’s voice at normal levels that didn’t have him ready to delete an entire solar system. At least he could take solace in her getting her ass soundly handed to her once in a while; as expected, Zarbon and Dodoria didn’t seem to be holding back on her.

Time and space had given some room to reason when it came to her, however. With perhaps a smidgen of prodding from Nappa, he did realize his claims of her ratting him out to achieve her new position were unfounded, if for no other reason than he still lived. Frieza would have killed them on the spot, even Nabooru for not telling him sooner. But it did little to soften the blow and he viewed it as a betrayal for he could only surmise she was doing some dealing behind his back to get there, Frieza's ridiculous reason be damned. Or perhaps he more accurately would only allow himself to surmise as much. It was easier to be angry with her and view her as a sleazy, spineless worm who wanted to climb the ranks at any cost rather than the more personal betrayal that dredged up a murky swamp of emotions he didn't want to feel let alone combat.

The pair of pods touched down on the planet's surface amidst what appeared to be jungle terrain. Vegeta climbed out and pressed the button on his scouter to begin a full scan of the planet's inhabitants. As the reports suggested, the highest power levels would barely pose a threat to Nappa, let alone him, even when it came to its army. Another quick mission and onto the next.

An incoming message interrupted his train of thought, and Raditz's name flashed across the red glass. He pressed the button, watching as Nappa grumbled and did the same. "What is it, Raditz?"

"Months away and this is the greeting I get?" Vegeta growled and Raditz clicked his tongue. Bold with so much distance between them. "Whatever. I've landed on Earth. I have yet to detect a single power level worth noting. One of them tried to shoot me with some archaic weaponry, though."

"So your weakling brother is dead?"

"I gue--hang on. There's one. Still not much, but I'll check it out."

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Keep the line open for us. We have work to do and I'm not in the mood for your pointless interruptions."

He supposed that at least put to rest his suspicions of Raditz deserting.

"Least the runt made it," Nappa commented with a yawn and stretch. "So, half the planet each like we've been doing?"

"Fine." Vegeta's boots lifted from the ground. "No stopping off for a damn drink this time. If I have to pick up any slack for you, I'll finish the job myself, destroy your pod, and leave you here. Got it?"

"How did you even--?"

"Smell, Nappa."

"Shit…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Alright, all work, no play. I'll meet you back here."

Vegeta nodded. Blue-white aura surrounded him and he took off, heading toward the first large cluster of power levels.

--------------

Cities razed and reduced to rubble. He met the resistance of the armies and, instead of dealing with them with a large-scale blast, he decided to bring the fight to them. He crushed bones and punched holes through anyone stupid enough to engage him head on. Obliterated whole squadrons at point blank range. Laughed in the faces of those who begged him for mercy or claimed him a monster. An outlet for his pent up rage, the aggression spilling out of him on the weaklings unlucky enough to live on a planet set for purging and, worse yet, assigned to him. In the moment, he forgot all about Frieza and Nabooru, his quest for vengeance. He was a warrior, a hunter on the prowl. The prince of all Saiyans who answered to no master but himself.

The last soldier's head crushed beneath his boot, he flicked blood from his gloves and wiped it from his face. All the while he had been tuning in and out to the feed from Raditz and his mission on Earth, occasionally chuckling at his stupid jokes or misplaced bravado. He had located his brother after all, a failure in his mission with the planet still fully populated and at peace. Vegeta surmised Raditz ran into trouble with him and another fighter. He took a moment to listen to Raditz beg for Kakarot to release his tail and snorted at the idiot's misfortune and lack of foresight to train his tail so it no longer posed such a weakness. 

He tapped the button on his scouter. It beeped throughout the scan but ultimately only picked up a handful of signatures across the planet on Nappa's portion. His work complete, he tore through the sky and back to their pods.

By the time Nappa returned, Vegeta had stoked a small fire with the trees their pods felled upon landing. He snapped a couple of limbs off a few corpses and jammed a spit through them, leaving them to roast over the fire when hunger gnawed at his belly. When Nappa reached out for one of the spits, Vegeta slapped his hand away and ordered him to get his own.

The sounds of combat over the scouter halted. He could hear the sound of Raditz struggling against some sort of restraint. A voice he didn't recognize ordering a "Piccolo" to attack. His cohort pointing out that the owner of the previous voice couldn't possibly dodge some attack while holding him and soon trying to talk his way out of what appeared to be certain doom. His cohorts agonized screams followed by a bout of silence.

Vegeta's expression fell, tightened. He tore into the arm he plucked from the fire, ignoring the excessive heat in his mouth. They didn't lose. Even Raditz found ways to beat the odds. Earth was meant to be filled with weaklinga and for Raditz to find his end to such lowlifes...the stick snapped in his grip, his meal dropping to the ground with a thud. It was embarrassing. To Raditz. To him.

He snatched up another roasted limb. Pained and rasping, Raditz's voice sounded in his ear again. Answered by another that he vaguely remembered from the preceding fight and announcing the final attack. Raditz's killer, then. The Saiyan claimed they would all perish when his comrades came to avenge him (had he not been in such a sour mood, Vegeta would have laughed), to which the other replied that this Goku would have the last laugh. His friends would wish him back soon using something called the dragonballs.

And then it clicked. These dragonballs granted a wish as impossible as bringing the dead back to life. Could they grant any wish? Could this be the answer he was looking for to his Frieza problem? His pulse quickened and his mind raced with possibilities.

“Shit...can’t believe Raditz is dead,” Nappa mumbled at last.

Vegeta scoffed. “The only reason it’s shocking is because that planet was supposed to be full of weaklings. Otherwise, with how weak he was himself, it was only a matter of time.” He ripped another chunk of meat with his teeth and wiped his mouth with the back of his glove. “I’m far more interested in those dragonballs they mentioned.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, that’s right.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “Said you could make a wish with them.”

“Precisely. We’ll force Kakarot and his friends to hand them over and make a wish of our own.”

Nappa perked up. “Hey, and we can bring Raditz back.”

“Don’t be stupid,” the prince snapped, frown deepening at his cohort’s shock. “Raditz was weak and I won’t waste a wish on a weakling like that.”

Vegeta fought the urge to roll his eyes with how Nappa blinked, his good mood and a dim light of potential hope holding his annoyance at bay. If they could pull this off, Frieza and anyone else who stood in his way would become nonissues. “How does immortality sound to you, Nappa?”

“Eh, immortality?” Realization slowly dawned over the former general’s features, smirk resurfacing at last. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound too bad at all. We’d be unstoppable.”

“Now you’re getting it.” Vegeta stood. “Immortality doesn’t suit the weak, anyway. Raditz would only get in our way in the long run.”

Nappa followed his lead. “Guess you got this all figured out, huh?” He paused and folded his arms over his chest. His confident grin faded once more. “You think we’d get clearance for that trip? We’re further out now than when Raditz took off.”

In his mounting excitement, the thought slipped his mind. The snap decision to go without reporting to his betters or awaiting permission, while more tempting on the precipice of immortality, could prove detrimental in the long run. He had no doubt that, if Frieza caught wind of the dragonballs, he would seek them out for himself. But by the same token, if Frieza hadn't heard the transmission already, keeping quiet about a flight to Earth without word cast suspicion on the entire trip regardless. He needed a way to get permission to go to Earth while keeping his true intentions secret until it was too late for Frieza or his cronies to do a thing about it.

A growl rumbled in his chest, and he flipped through the options until he found the proper contact number. He had one option for it, and whether she would work with him considering their last encounter was a shot in the dark at best. He could see her refusing out of pure spite or to cover her own ass and keep him as leashed as the emperor wanted him. Naturally, he refused to tell her the entire plan. He just needed enough to convince her it was worthwhile. Specific but vague to ward off suspicion and keep anyone potentially listening in off their trail.

With Nappa keeping better rapport with their new commander, Vegeta reconsidered forcing Nappa to speak with her since, from what he could tell in their conversations, she held no ill will toward the large Saiyan. He himself seemed to have let go of the ordeal entirely, a fact that irritated Vegeta for reasons he couldn't quite place. He watched Nappa tap into the line and he felt his tongue form the order but quelled it as the familiar voice spoke in his ear:

"You're already done? That must be a record for you two."

Rage flooded him the same way it always did when he listened in on Nappa relaying his report to her or holding small, inane conversations. It seized his lungs and clamped his mouth shut. He waved a hand for Nappa to continue while he paced the length of their makeshift camp, his tail lashing behind him.

"Sure are. Just trying to keep the higher ups happy." He could feel Nappa's gaze on him but ignored it. "Planet's been purged without issue and is ready for whatever venture Frieza has planned for it."

Nabooru sighed in relief. "You make this job easy for me. I'll get to rub it in Zarbon's and Dodoria's faces. They said this one would take you at least three days."

"Bastards," Nappa huffed. "Give ‘em a good punch from me next time you train with them."

"I'll try my best."

Vegeta glared over at Nappa, urging him to get to the damn point. "Right, uh….so how's the training going? We haven't had to report to Zarbon the last few times. Thank fuck for that."

"It's going great. I'm getting stronger by the day. I can feel it."

Good. She was alone and their conversation was likely not being monitored. Nabooru and Nappa concocted a code between them to ensure the slightest amount of security for their conversations. The Saiyan requested how her training was going and, depending how she answered, would decide if they could speak freely or not. A casual and conversational check that wouldn't raise red flags. The positive response bode well.

"Heh, at what cost, though? You have to deal with Zarbon and Dodoria everyday." Nappa rubbed the back of his neck, once more eying the prince for guidance on what he was meant to say. "But uh...don't know if you heard yet but--"

"Raditz is dead."

Nappa blinked and silence fell on the other end of the scouter. He wondered what stunned her into silence more, hearing his voice for the first time in months due to a refusal to speak with her he made clear or the news he imparted with the barest amount of hesitation or emotion.

Finally, "Is that so?" Her voice softened and lacked its usual energy. "How? I thought--"

"Yes, we all thought. Someone down there obviously got the better of him." He returned to his seat on the log, arms folded over his chest and one leg crossed over the other. "He was caught off guard because the warriors there can lower their power levels to next to nothing. He underestimated his opponents because of it."

"I can't believe it," she breathed. He imagined her tangling her fingers in her crimson tresses, a habit of hers he observed on multiple occasions.

Vegeta tsked. "It's his own damn fault. But it could mean the planet has more potential soldiers on it than we knew. It could be worth checking out after all." He paused and inwardly rolled his eyes at the ridiculous lie he was about to spew to sweeten the deal: "Besides, Nappa and I want to avenge Raditz. No one kills a Saiyan without consequence."

The woman hummed, and the prince tapped his foot in the air impatiently. His tail thumped the log next to him in rhythm. "Fair enough. I'll see what I can do with fitting it into your work queue. Rearrange things to put you two in that neck of the universe." Vegeta smirked. "It may be a while before you can make that stop as I'll have to keep you both busy on the trip out that way."

"All the better. Frieza wouldn't understand our mission." Not the fake one, anyway. 

"He wouldn't." Another silence, save for a squeak followed by the sound of running water, droplets hitting tile. His eye twitched when his mind betrayed him with an accompanying image. "In fact, if you can keep it down to a day, two at most, I could probably get you out that way and put it in the schedule as your off days. Then, if you happen to come back with any useful data about Earth, it could just be a bonus of your time off."

Clever, though he refused to praise her for it. "They barely bested Raditz it sounded like, so taking them out shouldn't be an issue for us."

"Then I'll see what I can do. I'll send your updated queue to you once I figure it out."

"Fine." 

A press of the button and he cut the line, Nappa saying his farewell and following suit. Vegeta stood once more and strode to his pod and opened it. After every setback and years of enraging torment, his fate seemed to be turning around. With immortality on the horizon, Frieza's demise and his freedom were just around the corner. He would take back what was his and more, all that was promised him. He would take vengeance on those who wronged him and his race and said he couldn't do it. He would rise and take his place in Saiyan legend as a Super Saiyan at last.

He nodded to Nappa before sinking down into his pod, hatch closing behind him. He keyed in the coordinates of their next destination and, once his comrade confirmed he was ready, jetted off into the cosmos once more. Though his destiny excited him, he knew he would still need to exercise patience. He couldn't afford to screw up this close. At least his time under Frieza had offered him that, his entire life spent awaiting the perfect moment to strike. What was a little bit longer?

[stratus-skye07]

Suga Craze [One] | Suga

[Prologue] [Masterlist]

My whole life has been nothing but an adrenaline rush. There’s never a moment where I feel at peace. When I was younger I’d be jealous of the people that would always say they were bored. Everyday is a hassle for me. Being the daughter of one of the most notorious mafia leaders was one thing, but now being married to the next generation’s mafia leader is a whole new chapter of danger.

“Nurse Min!” One of the other doctors shouts for my assistance. He was bringing in a patient from the ambulance drop off. “He’s going into cardiac arrest, I need you to administer CPR until we get him into the operating room.”

I nod, “Yes, sir.” I hop onto the stretcher, over the patient, to start chest compressions as the other nurse gives him oxygen through intubation.

Being a nurse doesn’t give you any downtime either but I guess that’s more my fault than anything. I wanted to do the opposite of what my dad and my husband do so there’s at least a counteracting cycle to the mayhem in my life.

I maintain the chest compression until the operating room is ready for the patient to go under surgery. My arms are sore and tired but the patient made it through surgery. After resting for a bit to get some of my energy back, I head back onto the floor to continue my duties.

The Hawaiian vacation sadly ended. The paranoia I experienced while on vacation quickly went away and I was able to spend time enjoying myself again. I was a little disappointed that we had to come back but Yoongi and I both have our jobs to do.

I finish up my rounds with Taeyeon as we head back to the nurse’s station.

“I’m still jealous that you got to go to Hawaii. That’s my dream vacation spot. You even have a gorgeous tan.” She says with a pouty face.

“To be honest, it’s something I really needed. It was a good way to spend time with Yoongi.” Obviously, the beginning of our marriage wasn’t the best but after everything we went through we’ve become closer than ever. The trip was another way to fall in love even more.

Taeyeon gasps in excitement,“Speaking of you two lovebirds, have you guys had any thought about bringing kids into the picture?”

The thought of having babies gives me a weird mix of joy and anxiety, “Um, not really.” I respond.

“Don’t you want to have kids?” She asks.

“Of course, but Yoongi and I have jobs that are really time consuming. I wouldn’t feel right leaving our child with a nanny for a majority of their life.”

“Have you hinted about it to him? Maybe he’d be happy about the idea.” She elbows my arm.

I shake my head, “I’d rather not put the idea in his head. It’s more for my sake than his.”

Technically, it was half the truth. I’m mostly worried about the fact that our child would be born in a mafia family, always in constant danger. I remember growing up in that environment and being so scared that my dad would never come home. All the things I’ve seen would be all our child would see. That fear is really what’s stopping me from talking about kids with Yoongi.

Approaching the nurse station, I smile at the sight of a friendly face.

“Hello, Dr. Kim.” I sneak up beside Jin to greet him.

He waves, “Oh hi, Y/N. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to welcome you back from your honeymoon. Things got pretty busy while you were gone.”

I nod leaning my elbows on the counter, “Yeah, I could tell. I’ve been working nonstop since being back.”

“How was it?” He asks,

I want to tell him that it was absolutely fantastic but that little bit of wonder starts ringing in my head. Before I knew that Jin was a part of Bangtan he was my friend and I trusted him so I figure I can start trusting him again.

“Everything was great until I thought I saw something.” I hesitantly say.

“Like what?” He asks with a tone of concern.

I look around to make sure that there aren’t any unwanted ears listening, “For a panicked second, I thought that Yoongi and I were being followed but when I looked again there was no one.”

Jin leans in so only I can hear him speak, “Have you talked about it with Yoongi?”

“Yeah, but he thinks that I was just reliving some sort of trauma from being shot and the stuff with Hyung-Sik.”

Jin nods listening intently, “Do you think what you saw was real?”

I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know. I know that I saw something but what I don’t know is if it was real or if my mind was just playing tricks on me.”

He looks at me worryingly, “You could be suffering from PTSD.”

“It doesn’t make sense though, Jin.” I explain, “I grew up seeing the worst a kid could see. PTSD doesn’t happen to me.”

“Seeing them is one thing but you were technically dead when you got shot. Near death experiences are more than enough to cause it.”

“I feel fine though. People say I’m glowing since I’ve been back.” I say showing him my newly tan arm.

He shakes his head, “Most people do after a traumatic incident but it can hit you at any time. Just hearing a balloon pop can trigger the sound of the gunshot that pierced your body.”

I sigh at the thought of adding another problem to my list of worries, “So what do I do now?”

“Have you thought about talking to someone like therapy?” He asks.

I nudge his shoulder, “Well what are you here for?”

He waves his hands, “I’m only a doctor not a psychiatrist.”

“Yes, you’re a doctor but you’re also my friend. Who better to talk to?” I say.

“Fine, but in the meantime,” Jin takes out a pen and begins to write on a notepad, “It might be best to start you on some medication just to keep you afloat until we figure this all out.”

“Thanks, Jin.” I take the prescription from him, “Can you do me a favor and not mention this to Yoongi? We’re going to a party tomorrow night and I’d rather not have him worry about me the whole time.”

Jin nods, “You got it.”

At some point tomorrow I’ll have to get the prescription filled. I'm not one to take medication for my problems but if I’m really suffering from PTSD then it wouldn’t hurt to calm my nerves and keep Yoongi from worrying about me.

The following night, I finish getting ready as I shimmy into my black dress. It’s a long off the shoulder mermaid style dress. Yoongi bought it for me among other dresses for these parties. At first, I never liked going to these things especially since I got shot the first time I went to it but it was soon discovered that a lot of the male guests were making compliments about me which made him more prideful in accompanying him.

Just as I'm fixing the front of my dress, I get chills as a familiar hand strokes my spine.

"Do you need help zipping up?" His low voice brushes against my ear.

I chuckle, "You have that question backwards and your hands are cold."

"Your right, I need a place to warm them up." Without warning, Yoongi slides both of his hands into my dress to wrap around my bare waist.

I press my legs together to ease the tingling that has started to yearn for his hands to lower, "Yoongi, if you keep this up we'll be late." I pull his arms away.

Eventually, Yoongi zipped me up with much dismay. We made our entrance to the party. I stayed by Yoongi's side the whole night as he talked business with other mafia leaders and clients. I don't pay much attention to the conversation since I don’t handle any of it. I've learned to accept the fact that I’m here to make Yoongi look good which brings much pride to my ego.

It isn't until Yoongi's grip on my waist gets me alerted. I follow his gaze to see him staring at a man, a gaze that could kill any woman.

"Hello Suga," he bows, greeting Yoongi.

Yoongi reluctantly bows back but something about his demeanor changes as he speaks, "Suho, I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight."

He shrugs, "I've been busy in Japan the past few months. I notice a lot has changed since I’ve been gone."

"Nothing that concerns you has changed." Yoongi remarks instantly.

Suddenly Suho's eyes drifted towards me. "You've finally found a Mrs. Min to settle down with." He extends his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Suho, leader of EXO."

"I'm Y/N and I'm not sure if I can say the same yet." I take his hand without hesitation just to show my brave side.

“Excuse me for being brave but I was wondering if I could have the honor of this dance with Y/N?”

Yoongi scoffs, “I don’t think so.”

He raises his eyebrows, “Is it not lady’s choice in the matter?”

As much as it annoyed Yoongi, he looked over at me to see my answer. “One dance shouldn’t hurt anyone. I’ll be back, honey.” Yoongi isn’t happy with my decision but he lets me go.

I don’t like to be left in the dark about things. If Suho is some sort of threat to us, I wanna know more about him.

I take Suho’s hand to walk with him towards the floor. I don’t know whether my encounter with Hyung-Sik has made me more brave or stupid but I am curious as to what Suho has hiding up his sleeve.

“So what kind of work have you been doing in Japan, Suho?” I ask.

“I’ve been dealing a lot in exports. It’s a lot of boring stuff compared to what’s been going on here with Bangtan.” Suho smirks at me, “To tell you the truth, ever since I’ve heard about you I’ve been eager to meet you.”

I raise my eyebrows, “Me? I’m nothing special.”

“That’s a bit of an understatement since you managed to save your husband from being killed and in the process cheating death and killing the leader of Park Mafia. I’d say that’s pretty extraordinary to me.”

“Well that’s what happens when you get overconfident in taking something that isn’t yours. It backfires on you.”

Suho’s eyes look passed me to have a little stare down with Yoongi who was watching closely from a distance, “Suga seems to think I want something from Bangtan as if I’m jealous of what he’s accomplished.”

“In all honesty, I grew up in this lifestyle and I know full well that all mafia groups aren’t afraid to take what they want. What makes your ambitions any different?” I ask.

“The truth is I could care less about what he’s doing with his group. My only concern is being a leader to my group and leading them up the ladder.”

Finally, the music slowly ends and I break away from Suho’s hold. Instantly, Yoongi comes up to pull me away by the hip.

Suho smirks, "I hope in the future we can have more time to talk."

Yoongi scoffs, "Any business you have to talk about with her you discuss with me. Now if you'll excuse us."

“You’ve got a keeper, Suga.”

I can tell that Yoongi doesn’t like Suho but for what reason? In comparison from my first meeting with Hyung-Sik, this was more of a calm introduction. Suho never once gave off the vibe that he was after something from me or Bangtan.

"So what's the real reason you don't like Suho." I ask as we make our way towards the bar.

"It's not that I don't like him. He's always been the quiet type and hasn't caused trouble for Bangtan, yet, so I don't trust him." He says side eyeing him.

“I’d have my doubts about it.” There’s surely something mysterious about Suho but I don’t sense it being a threatening thing.

Before Yoongi can respond, I’m caught off guard when I hear a female voice shout his name practically in my ear.

“Yoongi dear!” 

A woman with ash blonde hair, wearing some sort of leather jacket dress hybrid, about the same height as me, minus her heels, comes up to embrace Yoongi in a hug which he reciprocates, to my surprise.

She quickly covers her mouth, “I forgot this is a business party so I have to call you Suga.”

He smiles, “It’s fine. CL this is my wife, Y/N. Babe, this is CL.”

CL turns her attention to me, “So this is Mrs. Min Yoongi.” She shakes my hand fiercely. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

I roll my eyes, “Yeah, I seem to be the talk of the town these days.”

She waves me off, “I’m not talking about your encounter with Hyung-Sik. Suga has had his eye on you for awhile.”

“CL is the leader of the 21 Mafia. We met when I was starting to get Bangtan together. Our groups are very strong allies.”

“So I hope that you can consider me like a sister.” She says placing her hand on my shoulder.

I smile from the nice gesture, “Thank you but if Yoongi trusts you then I have no reason to doubt your word for it.”

 “Well whenever you have time to spare, let’s have lunch together, Y/N. We can get to know each other. For now, I’ll say excuse me there’s someone I must speak to before he disappears again.”

CL walks off into the crowd, leaving Yoongi and I alone. CL makes her way across the room, in the same direction Suho left as I lose them in the crowd. I smile sarcastically at Yoongi.

“You talked about me a lot? How come I’ve never heard about CL?” I ask suspiciously.

He shrugs his shoulders, “It never came up and it’s not what you think. Yes, we hooked up a couple of times but nothing more serious than that.”

I take a sip of my drink, “Mhm, I’m sure there wasn’t more.”

Yoongi tilts his head, smirking at me. “Why does it sound like you’re jealous?”

I act like a child and look away, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh you don’t? Maybe I should take you home and show you how important you are.” His fingers glide up my thigh, tickling me through the fabric of my dress.

“Anything to leave this place.”

Yoongi takes my hand and leads the way to the parking lot where the driver that brought us here was waiting near the car. Yoongi opens the door for me to get in when I hear him talking to the driver.

“Take the long way home and we’re gonna need some privacy.” Yoongi says while I’m shimmying in.

The driver nods, “Yes, sir.”

Once Yoongi gets in the car beside me, the driver closes up the blacked out window that separates us from him.

“Come here,” Yoongi pulls me to straddle his lap where I’m greeted by a thick bulge coming from his pants.

“Impatient much?” I tease.

“Ever since you put that dress on, I’ve been thinking about what I’d do to you when we get home all night. I could barely concentrate.”

I pout, “I’m sorry. I guess I should take responsibility.”

Yoongi pulls out the hair stick from my bun causing my hair to fall down. Our lips instantly connect as Yoongi’s hands roam down my sides until they reach my thighs. The dress goes up but not high enough as Yoongi aggressively tears the slit further. I gasp at the sudden action, “I really liked this dress.”

“I’ll buy you another one.” He says through heavy breaths.

Yoongi reaches up my thighs, searching my waist for the bikini line of my underwear, but doesn’t find one.

He looks up at me with lustful eyes, “Were you expecting this?”

Licking his bottom lip, I smirk, “No, but I was hoping for it.”

I reach down to undo his pants when I overly force the buckle of his belt causing it to break. Yoongi groans, “I liked that belt buckle.”

I chuckle, “You can buy yourself a new one.”

Opening up his pants, I’m greeted by his fully erected member. His lips continue their seductive attack on my neck, dipping his tongue into my collarbone. I sit further down onto his thighs to glide the lips of my pussy up the length of his cock causing Yoongi to moan into my skin.

I skim my hand from his shoulder, down his torso until I reach the head of his dick. It was already wet at the tip from his precum and along the length from my arousal. I adjust his cock under my entrance as I slowly take in his thickness. 

“Oh fuck,” The movement of the car made it difficult to slowly sink down so I can adjust to his size. 

Yoongi tightens his arms around my waist as the road begins to get bumpier, “I got you, baby.”

I smile giving him a kiss, “I know you do.”

The movement of the car made the feeling all more pleasurable, each drop went deeper than the last. Each intimate moment with Yoongi feels more than just him fucking me. It’s more like him expressing his love and adoration for me. He doesn’t need to say anything to justify that it’s true. Just feeling it is enough.

“I love you, Yoongi.”

He looks me in the eyes keeping his rhythm, “I love you, Y/N.”

I squeeze my knees as far as they would go against Yoongi’s thighs. My walls start to tighten and I can feel Yoongi beginning to throb against me. I clung onto him until the intense blissful feeling reached its peak. My thighs begin to shake from the aftershock of pleasure going through my body, leaving me breathless. I lean my head down onto Yoongi’s shoulder when he let out a chuckle. “Are you still jealous?”

[Two]

[coyotesongwriting]

Home - Ch. 3

Chapter 3 - Fresh Start

Chapter Summary: Bucky’s gone, and so are you. What happens when you find out some big news?

Word Count: 3222

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy it. I’ve tried a new writing style for this fic and I can definitely say it’s not my cup of tea but I love the story anyways!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Previous Chapter              Series Masterlist

May You weren’t sure where you were headed when you left the compound, but you knew you had to go as far as you could. For the next two weeks, you wandered wherever the road took you in the Ford Explorer Fury had gifted you. At first, you traveled down to Florida and spent a few days on the coast. The smell of the fish that seemed to permeate the harbor areas left you feeling ill though, and you decided it was time to move. You slowly made your way along the southern coast, stopping in New Orleans for a few days to take in all the sights you’d always wanted to see. You even did a few of the cheesy ghost tours, a part of you hoping that maybe you would receive a sign from Bucky, but knowing you wouldn’t.

As you drove through Texas, you took the old two-lane roads through the middle of nowhere. On one hot summer day, you were driving when you saw a dog on the side of the road. The large German Shepherd mix was tied to a pole on the side of the road, a piece of paper that said ‘free’ taped to it above his lead. The dog had been tied out in the heat with no water for who knows how long, and without a second thought, you loaded him up into your car. Pouring some water into your hands, you gave him a bit before rushing him to the vet in San Antonio.

According to the vet, if you hadn’t come along when you did, someone would have found a dead dog in the summer sun. The vet scanned him for a microchip and was able to find out his name was Rex. His owner’s information was all outdated though, and when they asked what you wanted to do, you didn’t hesitate to say that he was staying with you. You found a hotel room nearby and stayed for the two days Rex spent at the vet, waiting for him to be given a clean bill of health. Every day, you went to visit him for as long as you could. He was always happy to see you and seemed to know you had saved him from a slow and horrible death. You constantly were texting the Avengers pictures of Rex, and Clint immediately claimed him as his godson.

When the day came that you finally got to pick him, you took him to the pet store where you bought him all the supplies he’d need, a nice collar, bed, leash, food bowls, treats, all of it. That night, Rex climbed onto the bed next to you and fell asleep with his head resting on your stomach. For the first time since losing Bucky, you finally slept through the night.

Back on the road, you drove until you reached Sedona, Arizona. There, you decided, was going to be your first stop. The beauty of the surrounding mountains and cliffs surrounded you, and it was completely unlike the forests and meadows you’d called home in upstate New York. The desert was never going to be the place you’d permanently settle down, but it was the perfect place to spend a few months, to heal before attempting to build a permanent life somewhere with Rex.

You found a small apartment on the outskirts of town with a balcony overlooking the cliffs and made it your own. It didn’t take long before you found a job at one of the diners in town working as a cook. You settled into the different lifestyle quickly and made a new routine, one that was reliable and without danger.

In the mornings, you’d take Rex for a jog on the hiking trail behind the apartments. By the time it started to heat up, you were back at the apartment, and Rex was relaxing. You’d go to the apartment’s gym where you’d do some basic exercises, even if you weren’t an Avenger anymore you wanted to be sure you were in shape just in case something happened. After that, you got ready for your shift and went to cook for the dinner rush.

Every day, you checked in with Nat and Sam, and usually one of the others. Everyone wanted to make sure you were doing alright and to be honest, you were. Things were hard of course, and you missed Bucky, you always would, but you were learning to live a new life. One that wasn’t haunted by the ghost of him. One where you didn’t have to worry every day about whether or not your friends would die in front of you.

June A month after getting settled into Sedona, you received a phone call from Steve. It was a late Tuesday night, and you’d just finished your shift at the diner, and you were walking back to your apartment down the quiet streets when you answered.

“[Y/N], we have to make the announcement” Steve’s voice was soft, careful as he spoke.

The warm night air seemed suddenly suffocating. You’d been so wrapped up in your own guilt that you forgot that to the rest of the world, Bucky was still alive somewhere, doing his job as an Avenger. When he first joined the team, he’d gotten mixed reviews from people on the street. Half the people they ran into feared him, blaming him for what he’d done as the winter soldier. The others seemed to understand and were more than willing to welcome him on as one of Earth’s Defenders. Over the years, he had managed to change the doubter’s minds and it wasn’t long before there was even fan merchandise being sold of him. Unlike Tony, he hadn’t relished the spotlight and tried to stand back whenever he could.

While you and Bucky had been more than happy to come out as a couple to the team, you’d decided to keep your relationship private. Since you always wore a photostatic veil when you were in public as one of the avengers, you didn’t want to make things awkward if someone saw him out with you when you weren’t wearing a disguise. He didn’t need the bad publicity if someone saw him kissing you with and without the veil. Besides, it was nice having something for just you and the team, one part of your life that didn’t belong to the world.

The realization struck you, the moment the world found out about his death? He’d be everywhere. You may have left the Avengers in the hope of avoiding his ghost, which still followed you, but the moment it was announced you’d see his face everywhere. The news coverage that would come was sure to run nonstop for days. There’d be a public funeral service.  Bucky’s death would surround you once again, and this time you’d have no choice but to wait it out.

“[Y/N]?” Steve’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, reminding you of his presence.

“Y-yeah. Can you give me a little bit? A few days. Please. I just need to be ready.”

“Saturday, we have to do it then. People are beginning to ask why they haven’t seen him around lately and we can’t keep hiding this. There’s going to be a lot of questions” he paused before continuing, “People have been asking about you too.”

“Okay. That’s fine, that’ll work” your voice was nervous, trying to reassure yourself it would be alright, “What are you going to tell them about me?”

“You can still come back, you know. We miss you. Even Tony misses you.”

“I know. But I’m not coming back. I can’t. I can’t do that. I can’t watch one of you die again. I can’t do it again.”

“I can’t say if you come back you’ll never be in that position again, but we need you. It’s not the same without both of you…”

“No. I know, I miss you guys, I get it. But I can’t - won’t - go through that again”

“I just worry about you. Bucky wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“Bucky’s dead, Steve. We don’t know what he’d want, but he’d want me to be happy and I can’t stay there and pretend everything’s fine, okay?”

“Come home, [Y/N].” Steve’s voice lost the softness, his stubbornness setting in.

You could feel the frustration in you rising as Steve’s attitude changed. You’d been more touchy lately, but who wouldn’t be after losing the person they were meant to spend the rest of their life with?

“I am home.” you slid your key into the lock of your front door and were greeted by Rex’s wagging tail.

“You know what I mean.” he sighed, frustrated.

“No. No, I don’t. Because the complex isn’t my home, not anymore.”

“[Y/N]-”

“Look. I have to go. I just got in and I’m exhausted. You’re making the announcement on Saturday. I get it.”

“Come home. Please.”

You didn’t answer him, merely hanging up the phone. You set your phone on the small entry table by the door and leaned back against the door behind you. Sliding down, you sat on the floor, back against the door as the tears overwhelmed you again. You were getting better, truly. You could usually get through the day without crying by this point, but sometimes things were just too hard.

Looking back all you could see were the mistakes that were made. The things you could have done to save him. And in your darkest times, when it seemed like dawn would never come, you blamed Steve. If he hadn’t made you wait, you could have gotten to him in time. You could have warned him. You could have gotten him out of there, and you wouldn’t be here today. Blaming Steve wasn’t fair, you knew that, but sometimes it was hard to forget that.

Rex nuzzled his way into your face, and your hands closed around him, pulling him close as you broke. While you may have saved him, he’d more than repaid you since you brought him home. On the days you felt alone, he was always by your side. When you didn’t even want to get out of bed, he was there nudging you and making sure you got things handled. When you broke down at night, he was happy to lay with you and offer you a listening ear.

The night passed slowly, seeming to creep by. You slept in fits, but Rex was there every time you woke up. His calm presence lured you back to sleep every time. In your dreams, Bucky was there by your side again and things were good, things were happy and you got to relive some of your favorite memories.

The next morning, you called your boss, asking for Saturday and Sunday off. You’d been working every night since they hired you on. Not having days off meant you could live in the same routine day in and out, no surprises or confusion. Your manager quickly approved the request, and you began to plan.

Saturday came, and in the early morning hours you packed up your car with some supplies and Rex and set off on the five-hour drive to Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest. The forest there would give you the perfect chance to ride out the worst of the news coverage, give the world a chance to get over the shock while you were away.

You shut off your phone, knowing that if you left it on you’d be too distracted by what’s happening to focus on getting on getting away. The drive was nice, and you kept the music soft, not in the mood for anything loud at the time. On your drive to Sedona after finding Rex, you’d learned he was one of those pups who truly loved car trips. His antics as you drove kept your mind off the reason for the trip.

The towering pines and cool mountain weather enveloped you as pulled into the campground. The campground was all but deserted, only one other camper nearby and for that you were grateful. When you planned the trip, you feared that the campground would be busy and you’d be surrounded by couples and families, unable to get the chance to escape. Instead, you were able to focus on the peace and quiet of the forest.

The weekend passed quickly, too quickly for your liking. You and Rex spent the time hiking throughout the forest. Rex was eager to see it all, his exuberance reminding you that he was only a year old. For that, you were grateful. The idea of losing him, your only anchor left in the world, left your breath stuttering. Watching him bound after a squirrel, stopped by the leash, brought a quick burst of laughter from your lips, and with that, you left fears of losing him behind.

During your hike on Sunday, you stumbled upon a herd of wild horses. When you’d first decided to camp here you’d heard they had wild horses here, but you figured you’d never be lucky enough to see one. They were off in the distance across the meadow from you and didn’t seem bothered by your presence. The band stallion watched you for a moment when you first left the trees but quickly turned his attention back to his family, his mares too busy keeping an eye on their roughhousing foals to worry about you. You watched them with Rex for an hour before the herd moved on.

Monday morning seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye, and the dread you’d managed to put out of your mind all weekend crawled back in. Packing up the car, you kept eyeing the phone in the center console, terrified of what you would see when you inevitably turned it back on. For a long moment, you considered just not. Just leaving the phone behind, taking Rex, and running back into the wilderness.

But you couldn’t. Bucky’s death lay heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn’t face yourself if you had run from what happened. No, you had to face the music. And so, you did. The drive back to Sedona was a much more somber trip than the drive away, and you found your mind constantly wandering back to your phone, to what you’d turn it back on to find.

It wasn’t until you were back at your apartment with Rex napping at your feet, that you turned on your phone. It began to flood with notifications, emails from news organizations, and companies chiming in on his death. Texts from the avengers trying to check in on you grew more worried as the days ticked on. Quickly you shot off a text to them, letting them know you were okay, that you’d taken the weekend to go camping and hadn’t had phone reception. Almost immediately, you got responses from Nat and Sam, telling you they’d been worried. Steve’s response was to yell at you for scaring him. You didn’t text him back.

July It wasn’t until you’d been settled in Sedona for two months that you realized something was wrong. At first, you’d chalked missing your period off to stress, who wouldn’t be stressed after losing someone like that? But after four missed periods, you knew it was time to take a test. After your jog that day, you came home with three different kinds of tests, unsure what you hoped the answer would be. Within 15 minutes, the results were in.

Calling around, you were able to get a doctor’s appointment the next day for an official pregnancy test. Nerves ate at you about the idea of being a single mom, and a big part of you contemplated packing up and going back to the Avengers. If you chose to stay away from the Avengers, you’d be denying your kid the chance to really know their family, and your friends turned family the chance to know their niece or nephew.

The next morning your blood was drawn and within a few hours, they had the official results. You were pregnant. It wasn’t just a batch of faulty tests, it was definite. While the idea of going home to the Avengers, of having that support system,  was a huge draw, you feared that going back would put you back in the same mental place you fled to get out of. With a baby on the way, could you really risk that?

You pulled out your phone, dialing Nat and before she could even say hello, you spoke, “Hey. Can you get everyone together?”

“Yeah, is everything okay?” she asked, before letting out a loud whistle. Clint loved to joke she’d trained them like dogs because they’d always come running when she whistled once.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’d just rather only tell this all once”  you let out a nervous breath as you waited.

Within a few seconds, everyone had gathered on Nat’s line and after a quick round of hellos, you took a deep breath before blurting out, “I’m pregnant. About four and a half months along.”

The silence that came across the line was deafening, and you waited anxiously to hear how they’d react. Steve was the first to speak, “Y-you’re pregnant? With Bucky’s kid?” his voice was unsure.

“Yeah. Went to the doctor today and got it confirmed. I’m due in early January” you bit your lip, pulling it between your teeth nervously.

“Congrats, kid” you could hear the smile in Clint’s voice, and you let out a nervous breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, “I guess I shouldn’t call you kid anymore though, huh?”

“Probably not” you chuckled softly.

“What are you going to do, [Y/N]?” Tony chimed in.

“What am I going to do?” you repeated back curiously, “I’m going to have my kid and raise them up the best I can.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Steve’s voice was quiet.

“Yes I’m sure I’m up to raising my own child, Steve.” your voice was hard.

“That’s not what I meant. I just - I meant you could always come back. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know what you meant, Steve. And no, I’m not going to come back because I’m pregnant. If anything, this just tells me I made the right call. I don’t want to raise a kid in that world, always having to wonder if I’m coming home or if they’re going to lose someone they love too.”

“You don’t have to rejoin us, you can just come home, you don’t have to fight.”

“Steve, no. I’m finally doing alright out here. I’ve got Rex, and soon I’ll have my kid, and I’m moving on. I’m not going to just move back to the compound because I’m pregnant. Women do this on their own every year. Look, I just wanted to share my news I wasn’t looking for a fight. I’m going to do what’s right for me and my kid” by the end, your voice was a low growl.

For a long moment, no one spoke. When silence began to echo down the line, you hung up and began to go about your day, hoping to forget their apparent doubt in you and your ability to be a good mom. You didn’t.

Next Chapter -> 

Taglist OPEN:  @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark @redfoxwritesstuff​ @brokenthelovely  @collinsstanharbour​  @samsgoddess​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @winterisakiller​

[fluideli123]

A Story

So, I’ve recently been inspired to write a story for Ninjago and I’ve only written the prologue since I wanna write it for everyone, people even not in the Ninjago fandom and all that. I’ve also been editing the hell out of it and listening to it from text-to-speech stuff because I just all of a sudden got really passionate about this story. I even have my co-editors editing it in their free time I’m so invested in this story. Anyway, I wanted to post the first chapter (Still being edited) here before I actually post it, because, well, why not? I havn’t posted in awhile and I’ve been working on this story nonstop for maybe, a week? I don’t know, it started out as a prompt and practice and than ended as a whole story with twists and stuff. So, I’m just going to leave below the line on what I have so far,  I hope you enjoy it?

The link if you just want to see this story is here: X

Cole's head softly nodded to the beat of the music playing loudly in his ears from a newly bought headset, continuously humming the lyrics from the songs by heart. The earth ninja had his back against his pillows with a notebook and pen placed on his lap doodling mindlessly. His mind was alive with thoughts and memories for an unknown amount of time.

Some days he would be with his team with no need to fight, saving people, and with no missions to complete. Other days where he had either enough time on his hands to sit down and lose himself in more than just additional training or had too much time than he knew how to deal with. He didn't know which was worse sometimes.

However, Lloyd had it the worst out of the whole team, he spent most of his life, if not all of it, fighting and training. Lloyd even lost his entire childhood to become the destined Green Ninja. Cole still felt sympathy over the day that Lloyd lost his childhood. Cole and his teammates, Kai, Jay, and Zane, met Lloyd when he was only nine years old. But one day, the whole team was turned into kids. An extinct Grundle was brought back to life to hunt them all down, leaving Lloyd to help them get back to normal since he was unaffected. Cole still remembered how he and his team members were in fear as the once extinct ninja hunter towered over them. It was a hideous creature with thin sharp teeth and razor-sharp talons, its scales were blood red, its body was littered in spikes, and long catfish-like whiskers on either side of its lips. They were all quivering in fear until Sensi Wu appeared with Nya, they were carrying a tea that they tossed over to the ninjas. This tea would reverse all the effects that caused them to turn into kids. But as Sensi Wu forewarned, the tea would also affect Lloyd, turning him older with the rest of them. Lloyd had heard this, yet, he still grabbed the brew and threw it at the monster, it turned to bones while the rest of them spontaneously aged older. He selflessly sacrificed his own childhood to save them, adding more weight to the things he already bared at such a young age. The kid could use a break just as much as everyone else.

Sadly, Cole doubted that would ever happen for any of them.

Cole frowned, his thoughts now souring his peaceful mood. He closed the notebook and placed it back in its proper spot, a drawer within his nightstand. Tidying up his pens, he sets them by the journal, closing the drawer before also pausing his music, taking off his headphones, and setting the two items on the nightstand.

Cole let out a sigh, closing his eyes and running a hand through his messy black hair. He was overthinking again, a byproduct of the peace in the world, as unfortunate as that was. The earth ninja stood up, stretching his arms above his head to work out the kinks in his back before making his way through the hall, trying to clear his mind before heading into the kitchen. As Cole stepped into the kitchen, he smelt the scent of strawberries and honey, noticing that the temperature was also mellow. What the earth ninja saw, though, was a sheen on a metallic body and the white of a gi with quick hands slicing something on the counter.

Only one name appeared in Cole's mind, one that was accompanied by a warm feeling in his chest and a small soft smile on his lips.

Zane.

The Nindroid faced Cole, his once focused icy blue eyes turning into their usual warmth as he beamed, realizing Cole had entered the room. Cole's own smile grew from the sight of Zane's smile, a swell in his heart forming, making the feeling in his chest rise. Even though Zane was the master of ice and a Nindroid, he had the most sunshiny smiles and had tender eyes, softening you from the inside out.

"Cole," Zane said, his words calm and witty with only a slightly robotic tone. "I see you've finally decided to leave your room. I was beginning to wonder whether you'd be trapped in there forever."

The earth ninja rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the ice ninja, becoming enthralled with the remark. Cole had recently been in his room more often than he was training, the team, for some reason, found that as something to make quips about. Cole would be lying if he didn't enjoy some of the banterings that would sometimes ensue, especially with Zane. He wasn't too good at understanding humor or joking, but when he did, it always made Cole chuckle, even if it wasn't something exceedingly funny.

"Oh, me being stuck in my room?" Cole answered, placing a hand on his chest dramatically, his words dripping in a little bit of playful sarcasm. "I could never! How could I ever stay in there without the most delicious thing ever made to keep me company? I, of course, need a cake to keep me thriving if I were to be trapped."

Zane shook his head a bit as Cole chuckled at his own comment, still smiling as he looked back at the strawberries he was cutting. Remembering the smell in the air and seeing Zane slicing the fruit, Cole looked over to the oven out of curiosity, seeing the light on.

"So, what are you making there, frosty?" Cole asked, looking back to the Nindroid and leaning to the side to peak over Zane's tall form.

"Strawberry Bread," Zane affirms as he places the knife down, lifting the cutting board to pour the fruits in a green plastic bowl. Setting the board down he quietly, says excuse me to Cole, who moves out of the way. Zane bends down, grabbing pink oven mitts in the process, and opens the oven pulling out a pink and golden brown bread. He stands up and places it on cooling racks on the counter, the opposite side of the stove where he was slicing the berries. The smell was sweet and had Cole's mouth-watering as Zane continued to speak. "Jay had spoken about how I cook so well that I should try making some more desserts instead of dinner foods. He suggested I start on something with fruit, so I did."

Cole nodded, sitting down at the table. Zane had always been the one to cook for the whole team after they realized how much everyone else's cooking sucked, and how the ice ninja's cookery was remarkably good. Zane could cook anything you wanted after he researched as much as he could on it, whether that be from books from the libraries in Ninjago City or from any digital device hooked to the internet. He liked to be informed and probably knew facts that no one else knew about, just because he enjoys learning things.

Zane has always been strange to everyone, even when Zane himself didn't know he was a Nindroid. It was just a feeling that Zane had given off. Of course, the team loved him like a brother, yet that didn't stop everyone from recognizing how different Zane was. When Cole, Kai, Jay, and Zane lived in Wu's Monastery, everyone would notice how Zane lived in his own world, while training. He would possibly bow at a wooden training dummy, or be utterly confused with expressions. Zane couldn't understand humor at all either, but Cole still found it often endearing, even back then when they annoyed him sometimes. 

Nevertheless, one time the whole team, including Sensei Wu and Nya, got in a food fight during supper. Zane had stood there watching them throw his food around, unable to understand why everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves. Cleaning up after the ninja's ruinous fight, Zane had left outside with all the wasted food and tossed it in the trash. Zane had told the team that while doing so, he had met a falcon sitting on a branch above him, the bird following his exact movements as the ice ninja felt an ease with the bird. Unable to explain it, the bird had appeared another day, guiding Zane to Lloyd's secret hideout when he was with the Serpentine, which were snakes that wanted to get revenge on Ninjago for sealing them underground. Zane had gone back to the Monastery after finding Lloyd's lair in the trees to notify the team.

Cole has known for a long time that he has feelings towards Zane, even if it just began as a physical attraction. But that didn't prevent Cole's emotions growing over the years, his attempts to try and repress his feelings and only focus on viewing Zane as a brother like he did everyone else, had backfired on him. He often caught himself daydreaming about Zane without meaning to. There were just so many things about Zane that Cole couldn't help but to like about the ice ninja.

One of the first things that Cole liked about Zane was his eyes, whether that was sappy or not, it was true. When Cole first met Zane, his eyes were more human-like, a dull icy blue, still soft and kind when he looked at his teammates and friends but also appeared to be inquisitive or searching as if trying to understand something or learn something when he looked at you. Cole enjoyed the color more than when Zane looked at people back then, especially when it was dark, and his eyes would look too bright to be human. Nowadays, Cole just liked everything about Zane's eyes, like how they were robotically inhuman. Cole adored how they always seemed to be vivid and definite than a typical human's eyes, no matter how intense the light was, they would be slightly brighter.

The second thing Cole liked about Zane was his hands. He remembered how perplexed Zane was when he inquired why Cole had been gazing at his hands strangely. Cole had stated that he had never felt hands so cold before, even though it was the truth too, it wasn't the real reason why he sat there blatantly staring like a fool. Cole just liked that even after all the labor of training and fighting, that the ninja's hands weren't rough and hard like you'd expect them to be. In fact, they were soft and smooth like delicate fallen snow that doesn't cling together and as smooth as a thick formed icicle hovering from the roof. Now, the only thing that has changed is that his hands are sleek instead of soft from not having his albino synthetic skin, more gentle when they touched things now too. It's something Cole constantly daydreams about more often than anything else, as much as that irritates him. He regularly tries to push away the intruding thoughts, but the skin on his hands and face always tingle, even after he snaps out of his thoughts and into reality. Like if Zane was the ghost instead, and he couldn't truly touch Cole.

Cole could go on and on, describing every little detail about how beautiful Zane was from the inside out. But, out of everything he can explain, there is one thing he cherishes about Zane over everything else he could ever try to describe. It's something even Cole can't always name sometimes, and it's just how Zane is, well, Zane. The Nindroid will invariably do something outlandish like randomly stop moving and sit there for a while doing something in his head, or till someone questions what the hell he's doing. It's the same thing when he'll spend hours talking about how absurd people's theories are on multiple topics or randomly start talking about a fact no one else asked to hear. Even if Cole couldn't understand what Zane was prattling about or thinking, Cole would listen anyway.

Cole shakes his thoughts out of his head before he looks at Zane as he takes off one pink oven mitt and grabs a spatula, stabbing at the sides of the bread pan, the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration. As the earth ninja took notice to the sight of no honey on the kitchen counter, he opened his mouth to ask why it smelt like it too if it was strawberry bread that Zane was making. That was, however, cut short when Jay walked into the room, answering his question before it even left his mouth. The lightning ninja held a white platter in his hands that held crumbs, strawberries and what could, and hopefully be, smeared honey on it. He placed the plate down in the sink before turning to the ice ninja with a toothy smile on his face.

"You are so good at cooking, I swear!" Jay exclaimed before he looked to Cole and made his way over, almost bouncing in place. "Have you tried it yet, Cole? Because you should! Zane made a hell of a new dessert, and oh my gosh, it's so good! You have to try it!" Jay whipped his head back to Zane, who was smiling proudly from the comments Jay was shouting left and right, no doubt. "Did he already? Oh, come on, he had to at least have stolen some when you weren't looking!"

Zane shook his head in negative, triggering a dramatic gasp from the lightning ninja, who quickly turned his head back to Cole. He looked determined, and before Cole could add his two cents to the conversation, Jay took him by the arm and drew him to the counter where he had formerly been standing with Zane, and grabbed a slice of bread and shoved it in his hands. Jay let go of his arm and looked at him expectantly, a look that gave off a false superiority sometimes, as it did now. Cole just raised an eyebrow at Jay, who pursed his lips and placed his own hands on his hips. It reminded Cole of those Ninjago City mom's who was about to say "excuse me?" bitterly because someone cut in line or did something offensive to them. Cole snorted at the thought, giving in and taking a large bite out of the bread only to cover his mouth when his eyes widened, and a muffled surprise escaped his throat. 

The damn bread wasn't chewy or crumbled apart too effortlessly, and it wasn't bland either, it was right in the middle and tasted like the berry it was made with without being too sweet. If Cole was incapable of loving cake as much as he did, he would probably just go off and marry this dish instead. Actually, no, Cole should go off and marry Zane, who is capable of making not only this bread but also cake, which would make a triple-win scenario.

That thought knocked him back into the present, his cheeks slightly gaining color.

Jay laughed and patted Cole's shoulder as he swallowed down the piece of bread. Apparently, he was amused by his reaction to Zane's baking skills. This shouldn't be a surprise, he was a badass in the kitchen like in the battlefield, as stated before.

"What I tell you," The lightning ninja beamed at Cole as he continued. "It's good, isn't it?"

Cole rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, duh, Zane made it, of course, it's going to be good." He looked over to the ice ninja, who was patiently slicing the now cooled batch, Cole witnessed Zane pull out of the oven before. "You really outdid yourself again, Zane." "Why thank you, I was honestly about to think that Jay was overreacting to not hurt my feelings on possibly not making the bread well." Zane replies as he places all the pieces of bread in a clear plastic container. "However, I believe I should put these away till after dinner. I can already tell you two might try to grab for more, even though Jay has already eaten quite a few."

A loud, “awe man, no fair” came from Cole as Jay crossed his arms and seemed to now be sulking. Zane chuckled as he closed the lid and placed the container on top of the fridge, out of reach from anyone who didn’t grab a chair, climb the counters or who were tall enough to grab it by themselves. Sadly, no one was as tall enough to reach Zane’s height completely without putting something under their feet to gain a few more inches. It seemed the bread was held captive for the time being. That reminds him.

"Wait, how many did you eat, Jay?" Cole inquired as he looked over to the ninja in question. Jay looked over at Cole with wide eyes, as if caught in a terrible act that shouldn't be spoken about.

"Uh," Jay looked around the room as if it was supposed to help him answer the question. "Would you believe me if I said two slices was all I had?"

"No."

Jay frowned before he crossed his arms and pouted like a young child, a quiet "damn it" being muttered under his breath before he lifted a hand with five fingers up.  Cole stared at the ninja's fingers. Why was he holding up-

Oh.

He burst out laughing as he high fived Jay's hand. "Oh my god, you couldn't have beaten my record! I can't believe you actually ate five!" Cole joked, Jay huffed again and stuck his tongue out at Cole, causing him to laugh harder.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up dirt boy," Jay poked Cole's chest. "I only did it because Zane's cooking is awesome, and it was just a warm-up to when I beat you at your own food game."

The food game Jay was speaking of was a competition between him and Cole about whoever beats the other's score on eating the most in one day, wins. Every month, there was a day that the person surpasses last month's score, or tries to and fails. If you retain or beat the score, the loser must do the other’s chores or buy them something out of their own pocket when asked. So far, the high score was held by Cole, with three plates of two giant full-sized flour tortilla cheese and bean burritos. The whole team, Cole, Zane, Jay, Nya, Kai, and Lloyd, all went out last month to Kai and Nya's favorite restaurant, Taco Loco Pequeño César's. It was there that he not only won that month for his game but also won a sombrero and cool black sunglasses from the restaurant to congratulate him on winning their eating competition. It was the best day to see Jay's face go red in anger and brood for the rest of the day, Cole just rubbed it in his face by walking around wearing the sunglasses and sombrero he won. Kai even taught him some Spanish words, specifically "gané" and "perdedor" to further torture, Jay. Plus, the only reason Jay wanted Cole to believe he only ate two slices of the bread Zane made today was that he has to be ashamed of only eating five pieces and thinking that could beat the burritos.

"Say whatever you want sparky," Cole said, poking Jay back. "You can't beat the master."

Jay scoffed, looking to Zane, who was silently cleaning up after himself. "Zane, come on, Cole isn't the master of eating, right? I mean, I've eaten just as much as him, right?"

Zane looked up from pulling on his household gloves, staring at Jay for a moment before answering.  "According to what I've witnessed, and from other information about both your eating habits. There is a twenty percent chance that you have eaten anything slightly near the amount Cole has consumed. Ten percent being-"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it, Zane, you don't have to hurt my pride more." Jay insisted, cutting off Zane with a wave of his hand in the Nindroids direction. Zane frowned before he turned away from the two, and moved towards the sink where he collected all the dishes. 

"I don't understand why you two believe the consumption of the most nutrients, is something to be made into a competition," Zane commented, his words less chipper than they had been moments ago. "You could harm yourselves by consuming too much that you get yourselves sick, or consume too much of a substance and damage yourselves."

"Well, then we'll have to be careful," Jay said, shrugging, walking towards a chair and sitting down on it, folding his arms on one of the legs placed against his chest.

"Yeah, plus, if we get hurt, it'll be our fault anyway," Cole chimed in, sitting on the table with his feet swinging below him as he watched Zane. "We're just a couple of competitive dumbasses."

Zane continued to wash dishes, silent. Cole sat there for a moment, wondering if Jay had interrupted the ice ninja a bit too harshly, that being the cause of the Nindroid’s silence. That was debunked, however, when Zane's shoulders fell as he let out a sigh of defeat. 

"I know," Zane replied, turning around and leaning on the side of the kitchen sink, a sponge in hand scrubbing a big white mixing bowl. "I'm just concerned for your well being, especially after Cole's appetite last month." He gave Cole a pointed look. "You could have gotten ill after devouring all of those burritos." 

Cole let out an airy chuckle as he brushed a hand through his hair, looking away from the look he was being given. Ah, yes, he almost forgot the lecture the ice ninja had given him afterward.

"You made a point there, I doubt Jay could eat that much without getting a major stomach ache," Cole noted, laughing at Jay's insulted face as he quickly looked back to Cole. Zane laughed too, a smile on his lips again as he turned away and placed the white bowl down on the other side of the divided sink with other soapy dishes.

Time flew after that, Cole had stayed in the kitchen with Zane and Jay since they had nothing better to do than talk, jabbing jokes at each other. Zane had spent most of his day cooking and reading a new book he'd gotten, named Sunrays of Serenity. It was a poem book that someone had recommended to him at the library one day, saying it was something Zane should read. It seemed to be something that the ice ninja could try and think about. Zane said it had plenty of hidden meanings and was chock-full of phrases, giving Zane material to analyze and ponder about, unlike the science and machine books he'd usually borrow. 

 Jay, on the other hand, had spent his day with his girlfriend Nya, building and brainstorming new ideas that they could work on together, or by themselves. The two were in love with constructing and understanding machines, and most of the time, worked well with each other, taking turns fixing things around the place and talking things out. The two were the perfect match in Cole's opinion, for more than one reason, of course, even if he did place a wedge in between them at one point. Cole's anger had gotten the best of him, creating one of his least proud moments, but one that he regrets every day.

It's also something Cole had recognized over the years when being with his team, actually, since Nya is stubborn and her brother Kai is short-tempered, Jay being the embodiment of an unpredictable explosion. Cole, however, he was just angry. That's all it was for him. The earth ninja wasn't headstrong unless it was necessary, he wasn't gruff, having things irritate him quickly and he wasn't inconstant. He felt angry from time to time, like an itch under his skin that wouldn't go away. It was often bothersome and only made him more upset when he realized the feeling. 

He wished it would go away.

The notebook he had been doodling in before, holds pieces of what he lets out of his anger, at least the ones captured on paper, that is. Drawing himself engulfed by green and black, or standing in a battlefield of fallen enemies, him standing above them all. Cole even once drew a picture of himself standing in front of a mirror, his reflection showing something dark and fiery on the other side, like a melted creature representing how Cole viewed his rage. The journal wasn't even for merely his anger. He had pictures of his family lying dead upon the ground, his team being a part of his family, while he kneeled with them, the only one alive out of everyone he ever cared for. His slightly better pictures, like when he drew himself treading on lily pads, the pastel colors, conflicting with his dark gi and skin, revealing his misplacement in tranquil environments. His happier pictures, which were always sweet, were drawings of his friends happy or doing activities. 

Ones where he drew Lloyd sitting in a field of flowers seeming serene, his shoulders no longer tense, his jaw no longer clenching and eyes showing no sign of the constant sorrow they hold. He had sketches too, like ones of Jay sitting over his workshop, tools scattered every which way. Kai and Nya asleep on the couch, her head on Kai's shoulder.

One of Cole's favorites by far, though, were the drawings of the landscapes of the places he's been to as a ninja. They always seemed to come out steady and how Cole had meant them to look, which is hard to do because there is something that comes out wrong each time. There would be times where Cole had paintings of his team where they're poses were wonky, their eyes different from the left, or he accidentally colored with the wrong color. But, the landscapes and places never had the same problems.

What was strange to Cole, was that he would have never guessed that when Sensi Wu had handed him the large red covered journal, when the group split up, that he would confide in it to express himself, when he didn't feel like training. Cole had usually just trained to let out all his emotions, not finding another outlet for them to flow. He was thankful to Wu for giving him another place to let everything go. It often helped him when he woke up from his constant nightmares. 

"Hey, ya'll," A familiar voice said, breaking Cole from his thoughts as he was listening to Jay think out loud about making a mechanical dog for him and Nya, instead of going out and buying a dog, and Zane informing him of what that choice would intel. The earth ninja looked to the doorway along with Jay, seeing white blonde hair and emerald green eyes, accompanied by a green gi. "The others were wondering if you guys started dinner yet, or not."

Cole didn't have an answer for Lloyd, he had been trying to avoid looking at Zane in fear of staring like a crush infused creep. But when Cole looked over to Zane, who was wearing a pink apron now, he was about to answer their leader without even looking up from the pot he was stirring, reading the poem book. When did he even start cooking again? Did Cole really get that wrapped up in Jay's talk on robo-dogs, and his own thoughts? Well then, at least he gets to eat soon.

"Dinner is not quite finished, but it should be in a few more moments," Zane stated, raising the scoop from the pot, where Cole sat, he could see baby shrimp, noodles, and various spices before Zane took a sip, tasting his soup. The ice ninja placed the spoon back in the large pot, he continued to stir as he picked up a salt shaker and added some salt. "I would recommend rounding everyone up and having them sit at the table. It should be done when everyone has a bowel ready and is seated properly."

Lloyd nodded his head in acknowledgment, gesturing for Cole and Jay to follow him. The two did instantly, joining him in the hall, Lloyd asked for Jay to go get Nya, and Cole to go get Kai, while Lloyd went to see if Sensi Wu and his mother, Misako, wanted to join them. Cole split from the small group, and after Kai, the fire ninja was likely blacksmithing locally at Herald's Shop, a place just down from where the whole crew stayed. Cole summoned his earth elemental dragon, Heath, and quickly made his way to the small shop, jumping off his dragon and into the shop without knocking, knowing Kai was most likely expecting someone to come in. 

"Hey there," Kai greeted, sticking a long metal thing into a barrel of water, steaming rising quickly, loud sizzling in the air around them. Kai had more long metal poles on one of his tables, each one having some sort of difference engraved on them that Cole didn't care to examine right now, but, even from afar, Kai's work was still beautiful. "Is it that time already?"

Cole cocked a crooked smile at the fire ninja. "Apparently so," Cole went over closer to Kai, who was taking off his blacksmithing wear, a pair of gloves, a dark apron, and a face protection mask. "Ready to leave your things here and get some food?"

Kai chuckled, picking up all the engraved poles and setting them to the side safely, including the one he had witnessed get placed in the barrel. After Kai cleaned up his place in the shop, he thanked the owner and said he'd come back tomorrow, the man just waving him off as he continued to read a magazine. 

The two made their way back to their home swiftly, talking about how they enjoyed being able to do their hobbies or favorite activities a lot more, but how much of a hassle it was to handle all that time given to them. As they walked into the hallway, Kai said that he had finished at least three of the poles the earth ninja had seen, telling him that they were going to be put up somewhere on or in their home. Cole found that impressive, Kai had been a terrible blacksmith before, his forges were, as Nya once stated, a wet spaghetti noodle. After regularly practicing in his free time, he rose up to the title of a blacksmith.

The rest of the day was spent with the whole team, Sensi Wu, and Misako after Kai and Cole arrived in the kitchen. All of them chatted together, the table crowded, loud, and noisy every which way. To Cole though it, was just one big family get together at the end of the day, talking their head off while enjoying food. It was comforting, to say the least, Cole was used to large group dinners, his father's job as a famous dancer meant big parties of all types.

Soon as the conversations died down and people were getting full, Zane took the job of picking up the dishes along with Misako, who helped him. People started leaving one by one, saying their goodnights, each one headed off for bed, soon Cole did too. Everything in Cole's life seemed perfect to other people's eyes, as it should have been, nothing but training, drawing, and family times. Sadly, that wasn't at all the case.

Not one bit.

[bow-woahh]

If you’re still doing the game, chapter 6 from the grocery store onward?

Send me your favorite scene/chapter from one of my works and I’ll post a DVD commentary on it.

ask and you shall receive!

Little bit of background info, this chapter is obviously part one of two, chapter six being it's better if I calm down, and chapter 7 being the rest of the line: it's better if I lash out. If you listened to the song full stop, you might have already known that lmao

I felt like these two chapters worked well being split into two parts (I mean imagine how long it would have been if it wasn't ... like no thank you) because of the overarching themes across them and most importantly, the plot line with her mom and the readers not knowing what's putting her on edge in chapter 6. It was so much fun to play around with and hint that there was clearly something bothering her. I think in my outline, before I found the official title this chapter was called "calm before the storm" because that truly is what it is, there's a lot of nice, fun moments, but it's clear there is something bad on the way.

Anyway, tangent over, commentary time!

They caught a bus to get to the closest grocery store, which was still a twenty minute journey away, so Catra ignored Diego for most of the ride, listening to music and texting Adora.

When I was originally outlining chapters and everything, the grocery scene wasn't planned in to this chapter (I just love giving myself more to do). I have a section in my outline document where it's kinda just a thought dump of things I want to happen possibly at some point, because I think it'd be cool or cute or whatever. This was one of those instances, and because this chapter felt a bit bare bones at first (the final product was not in the slightest) I added this in as it felt like a great way to introduce Adora and Diego and since Catra and Adora are still fairly early in their relationship here, it just worked so well, because they truly didn't expect to see each other.

“Hey, hi! I knew you said you were going shopping, but I didn’t think—well I guess it does make sense since you live in Alwyn but—”

Okay, time for context no one asked for! Bright Moon is the city they are in (obviously) and Frighton (the Fright Zone) is the neighbouring city. Bright Moon is kinda split into lower city, upper city and mid/center city (guess which kinda classes live where). Alwyn and Elberon (where Catra and Adora live respectively) are more lower city, so they are typically where poorer people live, though there are some nice places there I'm sure. Just not many.

Adora said, “Loser? Nah, Catra’s actually super cool, trust me.” She looked at Adora, properly, for the first time in a few minutes, and found her staring back at her with a fond smile.

Adora's piss poor attempt at flirting. Jk, but I do think this moment is v cute and I just love how Adora defended Catra, even though it's just her younger cousin being stupid. We love to see it.

Once again Diego beat her to it, opening the door and saying, “Sure!” before jumping out and slamming it shut.

[Context for this line: Adora asked if they needed help taking the bags out of her truck.] Honestly, Diego's really cute here. He really admires Adora and looks up to her so he's taking every possible opportunity to talk to her, and be around her.

“You know you could've left, like, ages ago, right Grayskull?"

“Yeah well,” Adora did that little shrug she always did. “I didn't mind.”

Narrowing her eyes for a moment, Catra said slowly, “Alright. Well, you can go now. And I should probably head in.”

She turned to go inside, when Adora grabbed her wrist. “Wait.”

Ahhh I love this whole section of dialogue so I had to talk about it. These two are just... useless. What I love about them, and writing them in specifically this, is the constant push and pull with them, how they can never just explicitly say whar they want, either in fear they'll be judged and rejected or because they don't even fully understand what they want to begin with. With Catra and Adora, as much as one can say something like "You should go" the other will always hesitate to, will always have something at the tip of their tongue that they're not quite saying, or like here, will literally tell them to stay, using words or otherwise. They want each other but aren't quite ready to admit it yet. And I just think that's beautiful.

Also the grabbing of the wrist and the "Wait"? Pretty sure that was an accidental reference to the "stay" scene in Taking Control but it's so ingrained into my brain I'm sure it was subconscious.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

This line is just so... teenage romance vibes and I love it

Even though they had been talking nonstop for days now, and had seen each other just the other day, there was a palpable tension in the air, one that Catra wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with.

The said tension was definitely more on Adora's end than Catra's, because obviously, Catra is still hiding things (or more accurately, just not sharing them) and although Adora wants to pretend to be fine with it, the closer she gets, the more she wants to know what the truth is, she doesn't want to listen to the lies and rumours anymore.

Adora studied her face for a moment, before saying carefully, “Well, I, uh, have a ton of old gear I’ve been meaning to get rid of, but maybe you could ask him if he wants it? It’d be a good start.”

Catra hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “I'm sure he'd like that. I'll, uh, see what he says and get back to you.”

“Great!” Adora beamed.

Another little moment I love because Adora is just so considerate here and understands that Catra doesn't want to delve into things like money issues. She also gets Catra isn't one to accept handouts but the way she puts it isn't ‘let me help you out’ but more ‘you'd be doing me a favour’. Adora understands how she feels. She gets it.

“Why did he think you were texting your ‘boyfriend’ by the way?” Adora asked, and Catra felt her heart drop to her stomach. She hadn’t thought Adora had been paying attention to what Diego said (arguably nobody should ever pay attention to anything he says, ever) but of course she had, because once again, Catra had underestimated Adora’s observational skills.

“Because he's a stupid kid who doesn't know what he's talking about.”

Honestly Diego isn't that far from the truth he just needs to turn that 'boy' in boyfriend to girl.

Also the fact Adora is asking about this.... interesting. Catra's answer.....very defensive and also interesting. Once again they're so many unspoken words and subtext layered in all of this. It's like a tiered cake.

“That? Oh, nah. I don't—it's not really any of her business, y'know?” Catra replied, staring just past Adora’s shoulder.

Catra is replying to Adora asking whether or not Serenia knows she's a lesbian and, well, obviously what she said wasn't true. Well it was, technically, but she's ommiting the real reason. As I've already at least slightly portrayed, Catra has a complicated relationship with her sexuality, and I don't want to spoil it but that will definitely be explored more in the future, and Serenia definitely plays a part in it, being her guardian after all.

“I guess it was always kind of obvious. I never looked at guys the same way I look at girls—my first crush was some girl in like elementary, although I didn't realise at the time, and they just continued from there. I thought all girls had crushes on other girls at some point, that wishing I was a guy so I could be with them was what everyone did. When I realised they didn't, that it was weird, I spent all my time convincing myself I just wanted to be my celebrity crush and not be with them, until I actually kissed a girl for the first time. Then I couldn't exactly ignore it. I still tried to though. Especially when—well yeah, I tried to deny it for a while. But then, I guess I got tired. Of lying to myself.”

This whole paragraph is just... yes. No one has ever asked Catra how she knew, but more importantly, Catra has never wanted to answer this question, and if it were anyone else asking, she would have definitely shut it down, or answered with something short and simple. It's because it's Adora, and because she's growing more comfortable with her, to the point where she doesn't mind, even wants to share these types of details about herself. That vulnerability is even more important in chapter 7, so this was a stepping stone of sorts for her.

“So, uh, how about you? Not that I’m saying that you’re—but since you asked…” She cursed at herself internally when Adora's expression morphed into one of surprise, eyes slightly widening. 

“Oh, me? I, um—I don't really know. Is that weird? I just haven't ever really thought too much about it. I guess my main priorities are school, lacrosse, and work.”

God, it's in moments like these where I wish I wrote from Adora's perspective as well. Because there's a lot to unpack here. She's not lying when she says this, I do think this is partially how she feels. But, some could argue it's so obvious how much she likes Catra, and she's definitely admired some women before. So. I'll leave it at that because otherwise I'll say too much.

Quickly though, back to the what I said about writing in Adora's perspective... saying this here and here only because I don't know if it'll happen but I did have an idea to make a sequel of sorts, from her perspective. But, let's not get ahead of ourselves.

The smooth stream had been interrupted once Adora had asked if Catra's had any plans next week, with Halloween coming up. The relaxed, open demeanor that Adora had seen for the past few hours had almost instantly closed up again, and she could hardly focus on what Adora was saying anymore.

Now that Chapter 7 is out, why she reacted this way obviously makes a lot of sense, but to add more of a commentary to it, as we saw throughout this chapter she was trying her best to ignore her emotions about her mom's death anniversary because for once things were going well and therefore she had other things to focus on. Adora mentioning Halloween forced Catra to acknowledge it, along with the memories that come with her mothers death.

“Promise you won't ditch me?”

“I, Adora Grayskull, promise not to ditch you,” she said, hand on heart.

We love a good promise cameo.

“Did you really get kicked out? Of Horde High?”

Catra should have been expecting this to come up once again. It was bound to. With all the rumours. Especially when Sparkles seemed to be a fan with how she brought it up on Sunday.

I've already talked a bit about the rumours and how they arose in my chap 1 commentary, but really I wanted to talk about Glimmer here, since her scene was before the grocery scene and I have a lot to say about this one. Initially when I wrote it, the scene was a fairly quick altercation that kinda lacked a real punch, but after spending a little more time on it after my beta pointed some things out...it hit hard. I know there is a fuck Glimmer train at the moment because, yeah, Glimmer is pretty mean in that scene. And other scenes. I don't know why I love writing Glimmer as her S4 self so much, but it's fun to play around with okay? I like how she can take on an almost antagonistic role at times.

Glimmer thinks what she is doing is to the benefit of her own friend, by pointing out all of Catra's faults and the fact that she's from the Horde, but I also think there's a little jealousy there. No Glimmer doesn't like Adora, but she is quite a possessive friend, so I can't imagine she likes the fact Adora is spending so much time with someone she doesn't know, and to add to it, she's got the worst reputation in the school. So.

Catra thought back to the moment, and remembered what had provoked it, all the way back in eighth grade. “Yeah. I'd say they did.”

Exclusive for Tumblr gang only, but yes they did on fact deserve it because they called Catra the d-slur. This was during a time where she was really struggling with her sexuality so at the time, this cut deep.

As Catra lay in bed that night, she found her mind wandering back to Adora's handshake, how they had held on for just a little too long, mismatched eyes staring into blue ones. How such a casual touch had brought back that burning sensation, that need to be closer.

Ah...the handshake. There is literally no other reason for this other than the fact they are gay. This chapter along with the next are especially important for their development physically—they get a lot more comfortable touching each other in passing but at the same time they still have to find a reason to touch each other (hence the handshake). Either way, it helps break another barrier in their relationship, and this is even moreso the case in chapter 7. I don't know if you noticed, but that chapter is full of small touches and more, but they couldn't have gotten there if it wasn't for the little steps along the way.

Boy that was a long one! I hope you guys enjoyed this, I know I said chap 8 would be out soon but schools really kicking my ass, trying to find a balance is hard. Nevertheless, it will be out asap, I appreciate your patience! (: