chieftyphoonchaos

[kaurwreck]

y'all stop saying fyodor has never looked so sincerely angry before. he has.

I know this because, and this is not an exaggeration, the vast majority of my manga revisits are to enjoy his expressions of anger, disdain, and malcontent. i shit you not, several of my bsd meta posts wholly unrelated to fyodor were written because I happened to notice something else while flipping through to imbibe fedya's hissy fits. I don't reread the manga when I do this, just those scenes, unless something else catches my attention.

anyway, stop disrespecting my beloved pastime.

[minniesmutt]

𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔯𝔢: 𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫

♱ ━━━  PAIRING: OT8 X READER ♱ ━━━  CW: PANICKING, PREGNANCY, BLOOD, WEAPONS, MENTIONS OF DEATH, CRYING ♱ ━━━  WC: 2.5K

     It was news that Y/n didn’t know how to handle. She was already dealing with the emotions that she was now the only living member of her family and she was to be coordinated as Queen within a few days. Other royals were already on their way to the castle for her father’s burial. 

     Usually, the next in line for the throne would have months before taking the throne after the death of the previous. But it seemed the Kingdom had already seen their king as dead for a few years now and this would just be giving her an official title as Queen. Even a few other kingdoms could swear she was already queen and seemed elated that she was returning and taking the throne upon her return. 

     “Princess,” Changbin tried to grab her attention as she paced her room. 

     “I can’t take the thrown,” Y/n said, “I can’t!”

     “Hey,” Changbin caught her wrist and stopped her pacing, pulling her into his chest, “Calm down.”

     Changbin moved her to her bed and sat her down, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands, “Look at me darling,” Changbin said. 

     Y/n met his eyes and started tearing up, “I’m pregnant…”

     “You are. And one of us is the father.” Changbin’s voice was calm, hoping to keep her calm.

     “Oh my, I don’t know who the father is,” the tears streamed down her face. Changbin stood and sat next to her, pulling her into a hug on his lap. 

     “I’ve got you, darling,” Changbin whispered in her ear as he rubbed her back. Y/n cried into his shoulder.

     Changbin held her for hours until she stopped crying and was just tired. Her legs were thrown over his lap as she lay sideways against his chest.

     “Y/n,” Changbin called to her as she sniffled in response.

     A knock at the door stopped him from continuing. It wasn’t a small knock like the castle staff or advisors gave. It was urgent. Y/n didn’t have time to tell them to come in before the seven other vampires spilled into the room.

     “Apologies your Highness!” One of her maids’ voices came, “I told them to wait but they insisted on—”

     “It’s alright,” Y/n assured her before planting her legs back on the floor and standing from the vampire’s lap. Changbin kept an arm around her waist as the door closed.

     “What happened?” Felix questioned as he moved to stand in front of her, cupping her cheeks

     “We heard you crying when we arrived,” Seungmin added

     “You know how I hadn’t been feeling well since before leaving the manor?” Y/n asked

     “It has to do with your sickness?” Jeongin was worried

     Y/n took a shaky breath, “I’m pregnant.”

     The seven of them looked shocked. None of them truly thought they could get her pregnant.

     “I’m pregnant, I don’t know which one of you is the father, my father just died and I’m taking the throne in a matter of days,” The more she spoke, the more the tears started again.

     Felix was quick to pull her in for a hug. 

     “Chan, you’re the greater vampire, did you know this was possible?” Seungmin asked

     “Not for a human to get pregnant by a vampire. It’s more likely for two vampires to have a child,” Chan stated as Felix sat on the bed with the crying royal.

     Y/n managed to find the energy to forbid any staff from coming to her room the rest of the day and evening as they all sat in her room, trying to figure out who the father would be. Unless they were delivering food.

     They had to ask the maid who planted the possibility of pregnancy in her head if she knew how long it took for a baby to form. Once they had gotten that information, it was a matter of backtracking.

     The week they were talking about was a busy week. It was one of the few weeks that there was barely any time to be intimate. Y/n remembered only being with three of them that week. Minho, Changbin, and Seungmin . 

     “It has to be one of them then,” Jisung stated

     “Wouldn’t it narrow down to two? remember Minho coming here to collect the debt money at the beginning of the week and then he was gone from the manor the rest of the week?” Hyunjin asked

     “Y/n started coming with me on my trips here. She would stay in the carriage while I collected the money. Speaking of; the debt is fully paid off. They gave me the last of it when we arrived. King had some money stowed away.” 

     “Can’t get rid of you all now even if I wanted to.” Y/n sighed, it did not surprise her that her father had hidden money. But she had already planned on not leaving the vampires once the debt was paid and she had told them that the day after she talked to Chan a week ago. 

     “I remember pulling out when Y/n and I were together that week,” Seungmin said

     “I definitely came inside,” Changbin stated

     “So did I,” Minho added

     “So it’s between Minho and Changbin,” Chan said

     Y/n laid back on her bed. Exhausted from the thinking, her brain was going crazy and she had a million thoughts running through her head. 

     “Y/n, let’s get some air,” Jisung insisted before pulling her off the bed. Y/n leaned against him as he walked them to her balcony. Opening the door and stepping outside with her. The sky was dark now, she didn’t even know how long they had been deliberating who knocked her up. 

     But the night air felt good on her face and in her lungs. She placed her hands on the ledge as Jisung closed the door behind him. The vampire walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

     “It doesn’t matter which one of us is truly the father.” He said as he kissed her shoulder

     “It does for me. I’m carrying a child out of wedlock and sleeping with eight vampires,” Y/n sighed. 

     “If you weren’t about to be crowned Queen, would it matter?” Jisung asked as he turned her to him

     “It would. I’ve known women who are looked down on for having a bastard child. As a royal, I can’t imagine—“

     “Hey,” Jisung cut her off, “Do you want to have this child with us?”

     “All of you?” Y/n asked

     “Y/n, we all love you. If someone were to run a stake through our hearts or set us ablaze, we would die happy because we got to love you.”

     “How do you know the others feel like that?”

     “We talk when you’re asleep. But my point is, even though that baby only technically has one of us as a father, all eight of us are the father. We would raise them like they are all our baby.”

     “I love you too. All of you,” Y/n teared up as Jisung placed a kiss on her lips

     “Whatever the outcome, we’re here for you.”

     “Thank you Jisung,” Y/n smiled at him

     “Of course. Ready to go back in?”

     Y/n nodded before Jisung took her hand and brought them back inside. Y/n took her place back on her bed while the others kept up their discussion until they had finally concluded. 

     Minho was the father.

     The only worry Y/n had now was hiding the pregnancy. Lord knows the uproar it would cause. 

     “What if you married?” Hyunjin asked when Y/n started worrying again. 

     “Which one?” Y/n asked 

     “Why not all of us?” Felix suggested 

     “Princess, you don't have to,” Chan interjected, “You are still human compared to us. I don't think it would be fair—”

     “What if you turned me?” Y/n asked, all eight looking at her with wide eyes. 

     “Y/n that's a big ask…” Changbin said

     “But it's a win for all of us. We get to be together for eternity, none of you watch me grow old, I don't lose any of you.”

     “Yes but you’d be giving up your kingdom, you’ve seen just how much they hate us. If you turn, they’ll turn on you.” Minho pointed out.

     “Let’s call it a night,” Chan said before the discussion could go on any further.

     Everyone agreed and Chan stepped outside onto the balcony. Y/n sent the others to the guest rooms before grabbing her robe and slipping it on, joining the vampire outside. 

     “Chan…” Y/n called

     “Sorry Princess,” Chan sighed, “Just a lot to think about.”

     “I apologize for bringing up me becoming a vampire.” Y/n stood next to him against the railing. 

     “Don't apologize. I’d be lying if I said I'd never thought about it before,” Chan confessed and pulled her in front of him, arms moving around her frame 

     “You have?” Y/n asked 

     “For months now,” Chan replied, “Call me selfish but I never want to let you go but you should enjoy your human life.”

     “If something ever happens to me where my life is on the line, promise me you’ll turn me?”

     “Promise. Now let's get you to bed.”

     “Stay with me tonight?”

     “Of course my love.”

     Chan brought them inside and got her under the covers before joining her. Wrapping her in his arms and falling into a tranquil sleep with her. 

     Much needed as the next few days were a blur. Between the burial of her father which few spoke at, to the castle planning the coronation to the prep she had to do on her end, it was hectic. The staff was glad she was back though. 

     The vampires tried to stay out of the way as best they could. Catching stolen glances in the hallways and seeing her at night. Sometimes stealing her away for a few minutes for some kisses, which helped calm her down each time.

     On the day coronation, it was impossible to see her alone. Rather they waited with everyone else that had come to the castle to witness the beginning of a new reign. 

     Chatter filled the room. Everyone had arrived early to try and get the best spot to witness the crowning. The eight managed to get near the throne and hold their spot.

     At long last, the doors opened and the princess stepped in. Everyone fell silent as she made the journey to the throne. A priest from the church waited as two staff members held pillows holding the crown and the sceptre.

    A few murmurs were heard of how beautiful she looked as she made her way down to the throne. As she got up to the stairs to the platform the throne sat upon, one of the advisers was waiting to escort her up. The two exchanged a smile as she took his outstretched hand.

     Before he started to ascend the stairs with her, he quickly pulled out a blade and stabbed her lower stomach. Screams were heard across the room and panic broke. The adviser dropped her hand as Y/n slowly swayed. 

     Changbin had caught her before she fell as the guards rushed towards the throne. Many people were shouting treason and to arrest the man. The advisor drew a sword and pointed to the guards. Daring them to try and attack. 

     “It was for the sake of the kingdom!” he yelled amidst the chaos, “the vampires were trying to lay claim to the throne and got her pregnant!”

     His sword swung at Changbin and Y/n. The vampire moved them out of the way as Minho and his quick reflexes got the sword from him. Felix jumped to help bringing him to the ground as men, women, and children fled the room. 

     The adviser just laughed as the guards dragged him away. Changbin sat on the steps of the platform with Y/n in his arms as the others crowded around.

     “It’s a silver blade,” Seungmin said after attempting to pull it out, the hilt burning him. 

     “Handkerchief?” Felix asked as Hyunjin pulled one from his coat. 

     “This might hurt princess,” Felix warned her. Changbin and Jeongin offered her each a hand to squeeze. She held tight as Felix wrapped the cloth around the hilt and grabbed it. Gently pulled the sword out. Blood soaking the fabric of the dress.

     The vampires looked away as best they could from the blood but it still fueled their slight hunger. 

     “It cut deep,” Felix said as he finally got the blade out and put pressure on the open wound. 

     “I only hear one heartbeat now,” Jisung said 

     “He aimed to kill…” A tear slipped out of Y/n’s eye. Minho turned and Jisung went to handle him before his anger got the better of him. 

     “Princess,” Jeongin kneeled next to her and wiped her tears, “We need you to calm down before it gets worse. There is a lot of blood loss.”

     “How?” Y/n asked as more tears came down her face

     “Y/n, do you remember what I said the other night on the balcony?” Chan asked as he kneeled in front of her

     “If my life was on the line–”

     “I promised I would turn you.” Chan finished. 

     Chan was the only one of them that hadn’t bitten her. For the sake that his bite turned people into vampires. The people in town who willingly gave their blood to the eight would often sit and allow one of the nurses or doctors to take blood from them and then store it in vials for Chan. He didn’t want to risk turning someone on accident. 

     “Are you sure about this Chan?” Changbin asked 

     “Yes,” Chan replied as he moved the princess into his arms, “Are you sure this is what you want?” Chan asked once more 

     “Yes,” Y/n confirmed meekly. Blood loss getting to her

     The seven stood and watched. All of them had been bitten by Chan to be where they were. Chan took a deep breath as his fangs revealed themselves. Y/n tilted her head to the side for him as he sank his fangs into her. Y/n gasped and grabbed his jacket. 

     She couldn’t quite describe the difference between the others and Chan’s bite, but she knew there was one. She still felt an immense amount of pleasure and something in her seemed to change. When Chan pulled away, she still felt fatigued. But more in a hungry way.

     Chan still kept a grip on her as he finished a blood vial from his jacket. He opened the cork and brought it to her lips. The warm liquid spilled over her tongue. It was the sweetest thing she’d tasted at that point. 

     “Feeling alright Princess?” Chan asked 

     “Yeah,” Y/n smiled

     The rest rushed over and checked on her. Once the rest had confirmed with their own eyes that she was okay, they all hugged the other two. A few cried that she was okay. She was alive— kinda. But they didn’t lose her, and she was with them for eternity now.

♱ ━━━ PREV SERIES M.LIST

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© 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE

[pigeonpeach]

Genshin cat dads enduring the struggles of having a cat!

Summary: silly times.

Neuvillete

“No Bubbles you may not have a second dinner. The vet has deemed you a ‘chonker’ and has advised you to go on a diet.” Neuvillete continued signing papers as the kitty continued to sulk by its empty food bowl. Looking up at him with the most pathetic and wantonly eyes. He didn’t meet its gaze.

“Don’t you dare.” He said. The kitty jumped onto the desk instead it ended up dragging a paper off. Within a instant the kitty was startled and jumping around scampering to get away as the paper had apparently gotten stuck to its paw pad. Neuvillete stood up trying to figure out what to do while the cat thrashed about like a fish flopping on water, running into the coffee table, hopping onto the couch and trashing about. He quickly grabbed the cat holding it still. Bubbles still didn’t still, her tail was positively fluffy as her eyes were huge in fear as if the paper was killing her. It wasn’t, he quickly pulled it off and put her down to which she seemed to frantically search her body. He smiled as she slowly calmed down. He returned to his desk to which she followed him, jumping back onto the desk and yet again getting the same paper stuck to her foot. As before she leaped off terrified.

“You never learn do you Bubbles.” He scolded as he carefully grabbed the paper pulling it off. The cat seemed paranoid as it ran under the couch. He sighed. “What would you do without me.” He said

Diluc

Diluc was very confused. On his bed Selene his beloved little kitty laid with four kittens nursing from her. His bed now a mess as he pondered just how she had gotten pregnant and hid it. He simply thought she was getting fat but apparently not. He carefully approached her, she chirped as she took notice of him. She was purring. He brushed her delicately as he looked over the kittens. All of which seemed as dark as her. He couldn’t help but feel amazed. They were so delicate, so soft and beautiful. He kissed Selene’s little head as if to reward her for this gift.

A month later it stopped feeling like a gift thiugh. Instead of one stealthy and slightly mischievous blob there was now four mini mischievous blobs that maids would trip over or be spooked by. Adelinde hardly had a peaceful time cooking anymore, the kittens often had to be locked away when food was served. But even so they meowed loudly enough to be heard. Diluc sighed as he considered his options.

“You know we could always give the kittens away. They’re going to old enough to leave their mother soon enough. Although I must admit they are all so adorable.” Adelinde said coddling one of the kittens. They had been given names but since they were so young it was hard to tell them apart. Initially Adelinde tied a big bow tie color coordinated to each kitten, but the kittens saw it as a toy and it had to be removed before they strangled each other.

“I’ll look into.” Diluc said.

But later that night when he came home he didn’t hear the pitter patter of the kitties and their mother coming to greet him. He couldn’t help but feel worried. He lit a candle as he investigated. Eventually settling for shaking a treat container. Nothing. He quickly went to Adelinde freaking out as he noticed his bedroom door was open. He peered in spotting the family on his bed, taking up most of the space. Diluc sighed as he picked up the kittens waking them up as they grumpily meowed in annoyance. He laid down as the kittens soon climbed ontop of him. He couldn’t help but get attached then. Deciding to delay giving them away for as long as he could.

Wriothesley

Many would expect prisoners to be cruel and inhumane especially to little creatures such as cats. Not so. His little Kitty unintentionally caused a riot because someone accidentally stepped on its tail and the inmates immediately jumped them. The Duke’s kitty is quite a prized asset. Very useful in morale, sometimes she is allowed to wander, under watch of guards of course. But even they were hesitant to intervene in letting the kitty abuser get away with it unharmed. Said Kitty immediately ran to Wriothesley as if nothing happened. He couldn’t help but feel suspicious.

“Did you plan that?” He asked as he pet his purring little feline. She meowed in response.

“No, not offering food is not a acceptable reason to get someone jumped.” He said. She meowed again.

“You’re too spoiled. You’re lucky you’re such a cutie though.” Wriothesley sighs as he pets his devious kitty.

Zhongli

He came home from latern rite to find his house a mess. Porcelain smashed, decorations broken or knocked over. Including the cat tree. He immediately set about looking for his little cat. Thinking someone broke in and maybe hurt them, his heart racing until he looked under his bed to see them shivering in fear. It occurred to him then that his cat must’ve been oh so scared of the fireworks. The Tianquan had used a new kind this year that was supposedly better but even he deemed too loud. He carefully reached down to scoop his kitty out.

“There there little one. There’s no need to fear. The fireworks are over.” He said as he immediately began to brush the trembling cat. The kitty slowly calming down as it began to purr in his lap. It looked at him guiltily as it had caused alot of damage. He chuckled.

“Potteries can be repaired, but I cannot replace you as easily my love.” He said placing a kiss on their forehead. “I’m not mad. I’ll ask the Tianquan to consider switching back. I can’t imagine how many kitties are out there right now terrified. But I assure you little one, there is nothing to fear.”

The cat now calm rested in his lap as he smiled. He’d have to buy some glue but at least his little one was okay.

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

the boys as bodyguards

dedicated to absolutely no one. sure this is an asks blog - does that mean i have to actually answer them? i know i know bad admins bad admins whatcha gonna do whatcha gonna do when they come for you but i had a dream ages ago now that involved bodyguards, tsunamis, and also a shit ton of murder. don't ask. anyway, it got me pondering. and then it took literal months to write this so i figured i'd post what i've got so far, and maybe i'll update with the rest of the boys later, depending on how well this does/how much time i have

hanamiya makoto

hanamiya’s the package deal

he’s the chief advisor; he’s the doctor; he’s the bodyguard; he’s the sniper. just a right hand man in every way possible.

i mean, he’s not literally your right hand man: he’s the leader of a team, and often it’ll be one of his men there next to you at events, but he’s always supervising or coordinating or collecting intel

ie he’s dedicated to his job. he does like engineering spider’s webs after all.

having said that, he’s also an uncontrollable prick

he’s the best at giving you advice, both in terms of navigating high society and in terms of actual business advice, but is he going to give that advice without slipping in a snide comment about how you should really know all this by now? when you tell him to make sure to take a break some time, is he going to stop himself from saying “maybe if you weren’t so incredibly useless on your own, i’d be able to.”

and sure maybe he’s breaking the universal declaration of human rights with what he does to the people who dare to try harm you, but you don’t know about that

need to know basis type beat

you don’t even have access to the full floor plans of your own property, which includes a basement you’ll never know about, let alone step foot in. hanamiya keeps that information very close to his chest.

gotta make sure his employer has plausable deniability

gotta make double sure that you don’t find out about half the things he does - from the ways he sources his information, to his very dodgy organised crime links, to the number of people that have sadly lost their lives in the name of “fuck it, you’re pissing me off” - because he hates when you bang on about bullshit like “laws” and “morals”

after all, if everyone followed your beloved laws and morals, then you’d have no need for his services

as he always tells you, he’s just your pet necessary evil

yamazaki hiroshi

i reckon he only got into the bodyguard business because he spent his childhood wanting to be a samurai but, well you know, that’s not really a job opportunity anymore

what it does mean though is that he’s all about bushido: mastering his work, bravery, honesty, etc - and above all else loyalty to one’s employer

on a random thursday afternoon, he’ll tell you, completely nonchalantly, straight face, “i would die for you if that’s what it takes. on my life, i’ll always keep you safe.”

you’re staring at him like wtf and/or trying to stop yourself blushing, but he thinks that’s a completely normal thing to say cause he’s just following bushido

of course, late one night, he’ll wake up realise how weird that came across and he’ll spend the next week trying not to blush whenever you talk to him

just like the time he spent a week kicking himself after you walked in on him training, shirtless and rather sweaty, and when you told him he should take a break, he said “but i need to train so my body can be at its best for you”

again, at the time that sounded very reasonable, serious, and totally bushido to him. it’s only later that he’s freaking out in his room like why in god’s name did he say that.

but hey that’s bodyguard!yamazaki for you. a little weird, a little socially inept, but loyal to a fault

haizaki shougo

can you imagine the number of jobs that this man has lost for sleeping on the job?

he’s only got his current gig looking after you because his prices are cheaper and you were getting desperate to find someone in your budget

he’s a ...uhh… unique bodyguard? in the sense that he’ll get you out of harms way eventually, but "eventually" is the key word there

haizaki actively ignores intel that a certain location might be dangerous, because he really just wants to get into fights. sure you might get in the way occasionally, maybe even get some nasty bruises, but hey you get what you pay for.

you want a good bodyguard, save up some money, idiot.

literally the only reason he got into being a bodyguard is so he can beat people up legally (and because he got dishourably discharged from the military); he doesn’t care that much about the whole ‘protecting’ side of things

he’s also the type to ditch you the minute a better paying job comes up (possibly combat work as a mercenary). however he’s not as cold-hearted as he may seem, and he’ll happily spend a day of leave breaking into your penthouse

so that when you return in the evening, he’s there sat on an armchair, grinning smugly, “man your security’s turned to shit since i left.”

shortly followed by, “miss me?”

jason silver

jason’s the quintessential bodyguard, cause, after all, having a very muscular 6’11 man follow you everywhere you go isn’t exactly subtle

but he’s recognisable for other reasons as well.

like the fact that he’ll accompany you to formal balls, and he’ll be the only man there with an undone tie - it’s such a massive argument trying to get him to wear an appropriate suit instead of his usual hoodies and sweatpants, that can anyone blame you for not having the energy to insist he stops undoing his tie as well?

he’s also not exactly one for professionality. like you’ll be minding your business, trying to network, and suddenly you’ll hear a wolf whistle by your ear and a “wouldn’t mind me a bit of that”

“jason, that’s the ambassador to norway. we’re having her over for dinner next week, so, with all due respect, shut the fuck up. and whisper next time, for heaven’s sake! what if someone had heard you?”

“shit, is it a crime to like some nice tits in this economy?”

and when you glare at him, genuinely furious, he grins, puts his hands up, and says, “sorry, sorry. forgot you don’t like me having eyes for anyone else, boss.”

but don’t get me wrong, jason’s not all evil contra to fujimaki’s propaganda

he is an incredibly good bodyguard - those animal instincts really help him out when it comes to getting you out of a sniper’s line of sight, or saving you from a bullet, or just assessing a room for potential entry points. and he packs a mean punch if anyone tries to try something on you, a solid ko.

no one’s getting past him essentially

the only problem is that it’s incredibly difficult to thank jason for saving your life, cause the last thing he needs is an ego boost or feeling like you owe him.

“seriously jason. i don’t know how i can ever repay you.”

“usually the payslip’s enough,” he smirks, “but you know that little lady ambassador-“

unsuprisingly, he’s not invited to the dinner.

[cartoonbabbles]

Some Breakdown x Bumblebee headcanons since I’m watching Comodin Cam’s G1 marathon video and I’m seeing snippets of G1 breakdown

- I’m headcanoning BD and BB as both young adult (ish)? Like. Transformers maturity wise. Mid 20s is my guess, older than during the height of the war, still plenty of fight in them but they’ve lived enough to have a kind of routine between the two of them.

- BD puts on a cool and confident face for Bee’s sake. If he showed how scared he actually felt, Bee would have forced him to quit the race, and they’d both have gone into hiding. But he knows that both he and Bee like the thrill. It’s their thing

- Bee is slightly younger, BD is going through a crisis. (I mean why wouldn’t he be, he’s a fugitive and a war criminal, but no less than any of the other cybertronians, yet he’s somehow gotten the short end of the stick and doesn’t want to stay to find out what prison is like)

- Bee is super reassuring of how much he cares. Which is tough given how they ended up on opposite sides of the war.

- Bee can technically become a combiner limb. Does this make any sense? No. Fuck you, I want funny combiner shennanigans. Also Knockout can too (yes I’m throwing him in here). The poor other limb (likely Arcee) has to listen to her younger brother girlfail his way through coordinating movements while she’s the one doing the punching)

- Breakdown flusters easily, but likes to flirt and be seen as suave and as hot stuff. He’s a glass cannon and can dish it but can’t take a compliment without popping back into his alt-mode for a breather

- Bee (if they’re alone alone 100% for sure zero agents tailing them) is relentless in his flirting.

- Breakdown doesn’t actually have a driver’s seat. It’s all a hologram. He had a bad experience with a human who tried to drive him recklessly (scratched his new stripes too) so he figured out how to transform and not have any passenger seats on his own. It was painful, and Bee found him two days after a race he was scheduled to be at sulking in a cave, half transformed.

- this is more of a realization but I think the reason Bee started winning races was to take attention away from Breakdown. Notice how Schloeder never realized the same fucking muscle car barely tailing his black and yellow striped quarry

- I saw this funny post about spider man a few months back about how everyone knows who Spidey is or has some personal story with him, and rumors fly but you’ll never get anything if you pry. Same with Bee and Breakdown. Whispers of that time two drivers in sports cars flung their vehicles into a burning building and came out with seven people unharmed. A story about how a giant robot saved a kid from a rabid animal. Maybe a couple of voices deep in the woods comforting a crying teenager, telling them not to give up on asking the person they like out. Schloeder knows those stories are out there and it drives him nuts he can never get any first hand accounts

- Bee and Breakdown shared a garage in the Phillipines post war.

- Breakdown was sympathetic to the original Decepticon cause. He got involved more because the entertainment union took up arms with the original cries for revolution (he’s a Stunticon, and lord knows the Functionist senate didn’t give a damn about who got injured during a show)

- Breakdown painted the stripe himself. He wouldn’t stop bragging about it to Knockout and Bee. This lasted for a month. Knockout and Bee decided to get stripes to match (this is why Bee has stripes on his sports car mode)

- Bee has a human “sister” named Charlie in California he met during the war. She wasn’t a soldier or anything, they just hung out and vented to each other sometimes. One day, after Bee went into hiding, she was feeling bummed out and her car starts talking “yeah I miss him too.” The car was Breakdown. She gives him “the sibling talk” and is all like “if you dare hurt him or break his heart I swear-“ and all that and he’s genuinely scared of her bc he’s seen her disassemble and reassemble cars in her sleep (she did it to Knockout once on accident)

- Bee and BD have never kissed (AND THEY NEVER WILL UNLESS HES ALIVE HASBRO IM BEGGING YOU) but if they were to kiss it would have to rival Alex and Dot’s kiss to the mid season finale with that explosion of Purple Hearts behind them like. GIVE ME GAY MEN I DONT SEE ANY OF THEM BEING MAIN CHARACTERS IN CARTOONS ENOUGH.

- “Hi I’m Bumblebee and this is my boyfriend Breakdown and our husband Knockout and his boyfriend Starscream and his fiancé Soundwave and Soundwave’s friend with benefits who’s ace but still likes to get funky Shockwave and Shockwave’s ex Megatron who’s currently dating Elita and OP who are both married”

- Mo and Twitch ship Bee and Breakdown, though you never find out how they found out (it was Nightshade)

- Breakdown supports trans rights.

- most of the transformers do

- tangent but I feel it would be fucking hilarious if Shockwave were a queer ally but still fucking refuses to address the Terrans

- Breakdown once almost killed the governor of Florida (this one’s for me okay I need my catharsis)

- DW he didn’t but the dude resigned almost immediately after and kept seeing a muscle car coated in pride flag stickers at every stop sign for a month (Breakdown was bored)

- I’ll throw Tarn in here. Tarn has a good ass singing voice. That’s for funsies. Nobody invites him to karaoke though because people will literally do anything he says once he starts singing and that’s how Bee ended up with a tattoo on his (mic gets violently pulled away from me)

[criminalmindswhore]

Call If You Need Me

angsty, fluffy, pulls at your heartstrings

TW: Mentions of parental death

The timing of your life always felt like some sort of sick joke on you. Without fail, everything happened at the worst time and, your mother's death was no different.

"I'll be back in a few months honey," Emily promised as she stroked your head that was placed in her lap on the couch. The movie on the screen is long forgotten. You gripped her pants tighter, "I'm just worried you won't get the chance to come back to me." Emily sighed, your worry was logical and was her biggest fear. "I promise to do everything in my power to get back to you Y/n." Emily leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple. Tears silently rolled down both your cheeks. "One call to Clyde and I will come home as fast as I can."

The phone rang loudly in your ear as you sat on the kitchen floor of her apartment, "Easter speaking." Your words got caught in your throat, and a sob came out instead. Clyde sat up at his desk, "Y/n?" You took a deep breath and forced the words out, "Clyde my mom died. I don't know if this counts as a reason to pull her out, but I want her to know as soon as possible. My mom was like a mom to Em." Clyde remembered the stories Emily had told him on the way to Boston.

The rain was pouring down all day essentially ruining your plans to take Emily to the market in your hometown. You padded down the stairs being careful not to slip in your socks. You found your mom looking out the living room window, you stood beside her and sighed, "There goes our plans for the day." Your mom giggled, "But the rain made us better plans. Go get Emily." She shooed you up the stairs to find your lover still asleep. You woke her up and slipped her shoes on before pulling her downstairs. The front door was open and you found your mom in the front yard running in the rain, a massive smile on her face. She spotted Emily and you laughing at her from the porch. She beckoned you to her. "Oh, absolutely not Mom." She glared at you, "You can't get struck by the lighting if you're not in the rain." She pulled your hand and Emily's as thunder cracked out. The three of you spent almost an hour in the rain. Running, dancing, laughing, talking. You and Emily stealing kisses when possible. You were out of earshot from the two when your mom told Emily, "Thank you for loving her, Emily. You're always welcome here with us." The words made Emily cry. The love she always wanted from her mom, she got from yours.

You were sitting on the windowsill staring at the London skyline. You felt frozen in time and space. You needed Emily to guide you, but you couldn't have that right now. Your phone vibrated and you looked down to see a number you didn't know. You answered immediately, "Hello?" Emily smiled, your voice. "Hi Brad." Brad. It was the name Emily told you before she left, "If I need to contact you for emergencies, you are Brad." You let out a soft cry, she was alive and talking to you. "I heard the news. I'm thinking 'bout coming home." She said it in a whisper. Emily was standing in the next room over from Doyle, but god knows she had to be careful. She looked out the window at the huge backyard of the villa. She was nervously playing with the wedding necklace Ian gave her. She felt so dirty wearing it. "I need to confirm the shipment and get in contact with Chris. Pack it up and meet me at the spot." Your stomach dropped thinking about how in code she had to be with you but, knowing she was okay enough to remember all these codes gave you comfort. "Where?" You wanted to tell her how much you loved her, how much you missed her but you didn't want to risk anything. "Someone will send you the coordinates. Don't be late, he doesn't like it when shipments are late." You cried yourself asleep that night replaying her voice in your head over and over. It sounded a little different but you figured she adopted the dialect of where her cover is from.

"Y/n I'm being so serious right now!" You doubled over in laughter with your mom. "There's no way you have a whole assignment to do a job interview in a Southern accent!" Your mom said as she slapped your arm from humor. Emily was standing in front of you two smiling pretending to be offended, "I do!" She said in a Southern accent, "I take one theatre class for an elective and you two act like I've grown another head!" She was laughing now at her own accent. "Oh, how college has changed you, Emily Prentiss!" You said dramatically and pretended to faint into your mom's lap.

You spent the next week jumping at every phone call and text, waiting for the coordinates that never came. You were losing hope that Interpol would pull her out because of your mom. From the start, you knew it was a long shot. There were very few reasons that someone that deep undercover would get pulled out and a death in the family isn't one of them.

Emily, sorry, Lauren was in the front garden harvesting some Lilacs for Ian's birthday. The purple flowers were in perfect bloom and the smell wafted into her nose. She had just picked the last one when she heard tires screeching to a halt. She looked up to see 4 SUV's and men coming at her. "What's going on?" She asked in Italian, they grabbed her and shoved her into a car. "I need to speak to Easter," she said softly. The second the car door closed, she yanked off the necklace Ian gave her and let out the breath she had been holding for 8 months.

Standing around the casket you and your family watched as your mom was lowered into the ground. You were gripping the rose meant for Emily to place like it was the last thing keeping you upright. "Wait!" Your head immediately turned and saw her. Your Emily running across the cemetery. Her hair was lighter now and she had bangs, but god she looked beautiful. It was like the first time you had ever seen her. She reached you and immediately pulled you into her grasp. Tears you didn't know you had left came flooding from your eyes as your arms wrapped around her neck. Emily breathed you in, your perfume filling her nose. "Em. I thought-" She pulled back, keeping her arms around your waist, "I had to wait until it was safe to pull me out." Emily smiled sadly at you. Your mouth was just opening and closing like your brain was short-circuiting. "You made it," you finally choked out. Emily pulled you in for the first kiss you'd shared in 8 months. Her lips felt the same, tasted the same, that kiss made your brain realize she was really here. It felt like life was being poured back into Emily's being after being someone else for so long. You were the one to pull away this time as you handed her the rose, "I saved this for you to give her in case you made it." Emily's smile dropped and a wave of sadness overtook her. She took the rose from you and stepped towards the casket. "Thank you for loving me like your own and for welcoming me into your home and arms. You raised an amazing daughter and I intend to take over the watch now. I got her."

Emily dropped her rose in and grabbed your hand holding it tightly. Emily didn't cry in front of people except you and JJ, so when you looked at her and saw tears on her cheeks, you felt your heart shatter. The past 8 months were so hard for Emily, you cannot fathom coming home to this.

As the sun set on your hometown you and Emily sat in your dad's truck in a parking lot. You needed a moment away from the family and Emily needed space to begin to process the past 8 months. Her hand was intertwined with yours, music playing softly. You looked away from the sunset to look at her. She felt your eyes on her and turned to you, a smile gracing her face when she saw you. "I'm sorry Em." Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "For what?" A tear slipped from your eye, "For whatever you just endured. I know you can't tell me anything for a while because of the red tape and rules but I'm here when you want to or need to talk about it. Mom would kick my ass if I didn't recognize how hard of a time this is for both of us." Emily looked down at the console, licked her bottom lip, and then bit it. You grabbed her chin and pulled her eyes back to yours, "That's your tell so don't try to tell me to worry about only me." Your eyes were serious, "When I can, I promise to not bottle this up." You leaned into her and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, "I love you." Your words were quiet but meaningful, "I love you so much Y/n." Emily's hand grabbed the back of your head and pulled your lips back to hers, this time more passionately. As your lips collided thunder cracked. Emily's hands threading through your hair, your hands on her face. She pulled away to breathe and opened the truck door, "Let's go dance in the rain for your mom?"

[urhoneycombwitch]

love ur roommate Eddie but also all the time spent together between sexy times stresses me out

at least with husky neighbor Eddie he's across the hall and if you're not in the mood to see him, then you don't have to

but roommate Eddie is literally in. your. walls.

what about when you just have ugly days when your hair is a mess and you walk around the apartment smelling a lil before you hop in the shower

what about when either of you get sick and it's real nasty?

is there only one bathroom?? do y'all gotta coordinate times???

what if he insists on putting the toilet paper the wrong way around???!!! what about the hair clogged in the shower drain!!

what about the arguing and the tension and the resentment that arises from sharing a space with someone on the worst of days??

like maybe Eddie is the best roommate to ever fictionally exist ever but I can only imagine that there's gotta be some issues that arise especially when they're blurring the boundaries

and roommate!reader seems really strict and anal (same) with her rules so I figure that also extends to sharing a space

I know it's normally default to want to imagine that they figure everything out and live happily ever after, but do you see roommate!Eddie and reader being long term? how do they work out their issues with both sharing a space and finding footing with their agreement? what's the first problem to arise? and if they don't work out, what to do think is the largest issue/ what finally breaks them apart?

anon I love love love this. thanks for asking the nitty gritty questions they are so IMPORTANT!!

okay full transparency, when I started writing for roommate!Eddie I absolutely used the fic logic of “everything is perfect here” because I wanted to focus more on the relational/emotional aspect of two people who have already learned how to share a space. at the time, I think the first meeting/time it took to iron out issues were less interesting to me from a writing standpoint. however, I certainly had the framework for their backstories in the back of my head while i wrote!

I’ll share my thoughts below for those who are interested in the roommate!Eddie+roommate!Reader story. but also don’t hold me to anything I say here for future stories bc my personal canon is subject to change. lol.

in this no-magic Big City AU of mine, I imagined reader and Robin meeting in college and becoming good friends. you were in a horrifically boring history class together (Robin for her smarty-pants Psych/Art double degree and you for a Literature degree) and started hanging out outside of school. by proxy, you also hang out with Steve, Robin’s roommate, and by the time the three of you graduate you’re all good friends.

and then you’re staring down the barrel of a mostly useless degree, a shit ton of college debt, and nowhere to go. you land a job at a local publishing company, but it’s mostly boring and corporate and doesn’t pay for a two-room apartment in the heart of the city. which is unfortunate, because your last roommate (a nightmare by all accounts. quite literally never learned how to clean up after herself) moved out a month ago and you need the extra income to keep the space.

enter Steve’s mysterious friend Eddie. whom you’ve only heard wild stories about. apparently, he’s looking for a room- and according to Robin, he’s “well-mannered for a boy”. you ask a million questions before agreeing to meet with him (neither Steve or Robin gave you a straight answer as to the guy’s career which is weird…), and you make it really clear you’re not in the mood to be screwed over. or stuck with an unlivable situation. 

but your friends assure you it’ll be a good fit. and when you meet for drinks later that week, Eddie is extremely charming and honest. tells you he is, in fact, in the drugs business, but promises it never follows him home. he agrees to all your house rules. he also flirts a lot. but you learn to take that with a grain of salt.

so Eddie moves in and yeah, absolutely there’s an adjustment period. learning the rhythms of each other’s days and nights, figuring out how to split household duties, all the mundane shit that comes w/ a new roommate. there’s an awful first winter where the heat goes out; you two alternate getting colds and stomach flus, multiple nights spent sweating over the toilet or kitchen sink (one bathroom is a KILLER for the sick season). 

there’s a camaraderie that forms after those sucky cold months. you absorb into each other’s lives, friend groups, spaces that extend outside of your apartment. you become real, actual friends who enjoy each other’s company.

and also? Eddie is happy to appease. he’s not a pushover, but he is really respectful of you and your space. he puts effort into learning your little quirks, or things that tick you off (there are a lot). you both figure out early on that open communication is the best policy. Eddie’s the type to tell you if there’s something he doesn’t like or wants to change, so neither of you end up holding secret quiet grudges.  

which is why I think reader finds this whole attraction thing so scary (and uses rules as a defense mechanism sorry I wrote my own OCD into this!! lmao) like Oh, fuck. if this goes sideways, if we have a big fight or fall in and out of love and can’t be in the same room anymore… we’d have to move. I’d have to say goodbye to the best roommate I’ve ever had. our shared friend groups would be dispersed. it would be devastating on so many levels.

anyways. here’s the masterlist if u read this far and want it ;)

[gubbles-owo]

When whipping up Railgun in two weeks' time for a game jam, I aimed to make the entire experience look and feel as N64-esque as I could muster in that short span. But the whole game was constructed in Godot, a modern engine, and targeted for PC. I just tried to look the part. Here is the same bedroom scene running on an actual Nintendo 64:

I cannot overstate just how fucking amazing this is.

Obviously this is not using Godot anymore, but an open source SDK for the N64 called Libdragon. The 3D support is still very much in active development, and it implements-- get this-- OpenGL 1.1 under the hood. What the heck is this sorcery...

UH OH, YOU'VE BEEN TRAPPED IN THE GEEK ZONE! NO ESCAPE NO ESCAPE NO ESCAPE EHUEHUHEUHEUHEUHUEH While there is a gltf importer for models, I didn't want to put my faith in a kinda buggy importer with an already (in my experience) kinda buggy model format. I wanted more control over how my mesh data is stored in memory, and how it gets drawn. So instead I opted for a more direct solution: converting every vertex of every triangle of every object in the scene by fucking hand.

THERE ARE NEARLY NINE HUNDRED LINES OF THIS SHIT. THIS TOOK ME MONTHS. And these are just the vertices. I had to figure out triangle drawing PER VERTEX. You have to construct each triangle counterclockwise in order for the front of the face to be, well, the front. In addition, starting the next tri with the last vertex of the previous tri is the most efficient, so I plotted out so many diagrams to determine how to most efficiently draw each mesh. And god the TEXTURES. When I painted the textures for this scene originally, I went no larger than 64 x 64 pixels for each. The N64 has an infamously minuscule texture cache of 4kb, and while there were some different formats to try and make the most of it, I previously understood this resolution to be the maximum. Guess what? I was wrong! You can go higher. Tall textures, such as the closet and hallway doors, were stored as 32 x 64 in Godot. On the actual N64, however, I chose the CI4 texture format, aka 4-bit color index. I can choose a palette of 16 colors, and in doing so bump it up to 48 x 84.

On the left, the original texture in Godot at 32 x 64px. On the right, an updated texture on the N64 at 48 x 84px. Latter screenshot taken in the Ares emulator.

The window, previously the same smaller size, is now a full 64 x 64 CI4 texture mirrored once vertically. Why I didn't think of this previously in Godot I do not know lol

Similarly, the sides of the monitors in the room? A single 32 x 8 CI4 texture. The N64 does a neat thing where you can specify the number of times a texture repeats or mirrors on each axis, and clip it afterwards. So I draw a single vent in the texture, mirror it twice horizontally and 4 times vertically, adjusting the texture coordinates so the vents sit toward the back of the monitor.

The bookshelf actually had to be split up into two textures for the top and bottom halves. Due to the colorful array of books on display, a 16 color palette wasn't enough to show it all cleanly. So instead these are two CI8 textures, an 8-bit color index so 256 colors per half!! At a slightly bumped up resolution of 42 x 42. You can now kind of sort of tell what the mysterious object on the 2nd shelf is. It's. It is a sea urchin y'all it is in the room of a character that literally goes by Urchin do ddo you get it n-

also hey do u notice anything coo,l about the color of the books on each shelf perhaps they also hjint at things about Urchin as a character teehee :3c I redid the ceiling texture anyways cause the old one was kind of garbage, (simple noise that somehow made the edges obvious when tiled). Not only is it still 64px, but it's now an I4 texture, aka 4-bit intensity. There's no color information here, it's simply a grayscale image that gets blended over the vertex color. So it's half the size in memory now! Similarly the ceiling fan shadow now has a texture on it (it was previously just a black polygon). The format is IA4, or 4-bit intensity alpha. 3 bits of intensity (b/w), 1 bit of alpha (transparency). It's super subtle but it now has some pleasing vertex colors that compliment the lighting in the room!

Left, Godot. Right, N64. All of the texture resolutions either stayed the same, or got BIGGER thanks to the different texture formats the N64 provides. Simply put:

THE SCENE LOOKS BETTER ON THE ACTUAL N64.

ALSO IT RUNS AT 60FPS. MOSTLY*. *It depends on the camera angle, as tried to order draw calls of everything in the scene to render as efficiently as I could for most common viewing angles. Even then there are STILL improvements I know I can make, particularly with disabling the Z-buffer for some parts of the room. And I still want to add more to the scene: ambient sounds, and if I can manage it, the particles of dust that swirl around the room. Optimization is wild, y'all. But more strikingly... fulfilling a childhood dream of making something that actually renders and works on the first video game console I ever played? Holy shit. Seeing this thing I made on this nearly thirty-year-old console, on this fuzzy CRT, is such a fucking trip. I will never tire of it.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Sweet Dreams--Part 13

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted. 

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

You can feel your pulse in your thighs, a steady thump, thump, thumpity, thump pulsing from your lower back to your toes. It’s this rhythm of your heart in your legs that lets you know the day’s been long and hard. The arch of your shoes presses up into the muscle of your feet and it feels like a thousand pinpricks. You’re ready to take a hot shower, wash the smell of hot grease and oil off your skin. But you’re delayed. A nasty swerve to avoid hitting a dog in the road left you without your car while the mechanic works on the tire you’d hit against the curb. They told you it was the lower control arm and ball joint when you got it to the shop. That particular store didn’t have the parts and had to get them from one of their companion stores not too far from. 

What failed to come to fruition until the work started was just how bad you hit the curb, to the point where it was recommended that you get a new tire and rim. The new parts took an additional day as you had to coordinate with the local dealership to get the dealer standard rim and to lug it back to your mechanic thanks to Calum chauffeuring you around. It still irked you how the shop was trying to insist that you needed a second new tire in order to maintain the balance and tread of the tires. A tactic that you smelled miles away as false considering you’d just replaced all four tires a month prior. But you would replace the one tire that needed and rotate the remaining three, which would hopefully fix the issue and lead you to picking up your car on Monday. 

Today is not Monday though. It’s 7 PM after your Sunday shift. The streetlights are on; you watch cars whizz by. You told Calum that you’d be done by 7PM, given how long it takes to clean the kitchen and how late some orders come in. You don’t see his truck, though he did text you at 6:40 that he was on the way. You figure at the least that it’s just traffic. Your other coworkers are packing themselves into their cars. But PJ halts, a yard or two from you, his keys clacking as he calls out your name. “You okay? You sure you don’t need a ride home?” he asks. 

You take a look at your phone again. Just a couple minutes past seven. “I’m okay,” you call back out. 

If all else actually fails, you do have enough change to get the bus. The last one will come your way around 8:30. You’re hoping that should Calum also be held up by something, you’re notified about it well in advance.

“You sure?” PJ asks, he starts in a jog back in your direction. “I don’t mind. Gotta make sure you get home safe. I know not having your car isn’t fun.”

The words don’t have time to curl your lips to tell PJ that you got here due to the bus and would be able to get home because of it. Calum was originally only picking you up because tomorrow’s the final fitting for your attire to the holiday charity event. It would be easier for him to get you tonight so that you’re already in the palace for the fitting and then he’d take you to get your car tomorrow when you got the call it was ready. But those words don’t get the chance to breathe before your name is called out from the distance behind you. The voice makes your heart race. There’s a bit of a slur to the syllables and you pray. You pray you’re wrong. 

“Diana?” you ask, turning to her. 

She hazards another small step. She’s only in a t-shirt and jeans. Which won’t handle the cold November evening should this altercation take too long. You’re hoping it won’t. But as your heart thunders in your chest, you wonder how long a second can actually feel. What does this mean for how long a minute will last? 

“Hi,” she waves. 

“Do you know her?” PJ questions. 

You nod, though the bitter words on your tongue to say unfortunately you do know her. But you don’t say that. “She’s my mother,” you answer, turning back to him. “Let me-let me handle this and I’ll catch up with you all Tuesday.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’m only like ten minutes from here, give me a ring if you still need that ride.”

“Thanks, PJ.” The two of you share a tight lipped smile. It says everything that’s needed--you: an apology for the intrusion, the understanding that this is all strange and new and PJ: the acceptance, the quiet understanding of how much this is an intrusion but not that he’s going to be rude.

“You’re welcome,” he returns and then turns to head back to his car. 

You tread closer to Diana, slowly as you go. She looks wobbly as she approaches. You know deep in your gut that she's been drinking. Her keys dangle from her fingers so loosely you’re already preparing to have to catch them should they slip from her hands. Though you do find yourself questioning how she found out about where you work now, you’re more worried about the fact that she’s driven herself inebriated. It doesn’t even matter what she wants anymore or why she’s come. She risked her life and the lives of everyone else on the road in this state. What was October, when you stopped Charlie from going back into that house, but a warning for what this cold November night is bringing. 

“Diana, what are you doing here?” you whisper out, pressed between tightly pressed teeth like a parent to a child who’s attempting to keep from making a scene. 

“I needed to talk to you,” she returns with a huff. “You’re not an easy person to find.” Her laughter is light, a smile crossing her face of humor at the situation, as if somehow this is the appropriate stage for whatever discussion she needs to have with you. 

“Talk to me about what? Why not call me?”

“It’s the holidays. You should be home, not wherever you are. It’s not right that you’re not there. And you’d never listen for long if I called and you realized it wasn’t about Teagan or Charlie. You’d ha-” a hiccup interrupts her words. “You’d hang up on me. I know it.”

You probably wouldn’t have an indepth conversation. You know that and it’s no shock that she knows it too. But nonetheless, something about the truth from her feels like an open wound doused in alcohol--sharp and leaves you hissing. You didn’t think the confrontation with Melvin was wrong. You just hadn’t seen the reality behind his words. The closer you get to Charlie and Teagan, the more hope grows in your mother. You remember Mrs. Davis from the park, how she said she thought your mother missed you. It’s easy to push things to the side when it’s someone removed from the situation telling you. But there’s no pushing Diana aside. Not when she’s on the sidewalk, keys still dangling on the edge of falling, in a t-shirt and jeans in the cold of this night. 

Diana’s human. You see it as her eyes gaze over you unsteady, like she can’t decide which part she wants to look at first, or perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s got her gaze swaying. You don’t ever remember her ever being this bad when you were young. Perhaps, she’s lost some of her tolerance in the years of sobriety. How unfortunate the diagnosis is to be human, staring your mother who’s also human in the face. 

“Diana, I don’t think you’re in the right state of mind to have this conversation right now.”

“See! It’s that! That drives me insane!” she snaps, keys clacking ruthlessly in the fierce shake of her arms. 

You wish you could articulate that you’re trying to save her--from you, from the consequences. Because you don’t want to be the bad guy. You don’t want to do what’s going to come next. Yet there’s no way around it. Immovable objects meet unstoppable forces--the two of you are colliding and only you know the outcome. Only you see the sparks and embers that are starting the wildfire. But there’s no use in trying to get through to her in this state. You need to deescalate. “Hey, hey, okay. Please, I don’t want to make you upset.”

“You don’t call me Mom. It’s always Diana. It’s always Melvin. We’re you’re fucking parents for crying out loud!” The more she speaks, the louder she gets. This is not a situation you ever had control over, if you did, she wouldn’t have approached you like this. But what little steering you could’ve done to keep the conversation cordial is leaving you. 

Bright lights illuminate behind you. The rumble of an engine is not loud enough to drown out her huffs. Though you suspect it’s Calum, and you feel the twitch to flee, you remain steadfast, watching as you debate how much you can engage with her reasonably. Not that you need to, you know that. But you cannot leave her here; you cannot leave her drunk to drive back home again. You won’t abandon her, not like this. “If you get in with Calum, we’ll take you back. So that you get home safely.”

 “We’re your parents!” she echoes, talking over your words. “And we want you home! You work fifteen fucking minutes from us. And for how long? Huh? How long have you worked so close to us? Were you ever going to tell us? We don’t want Calum. We want you!”

These don’t seem like questions that should they get answered, the answers will make her happy. But you’re not sure the silence helps either. It’s the alcohol you know that’s conflating your mention of Calum with some meaning that you want him to replace you. But you swear as you look at Diana seething in front of you, you see the terror and heartbreak that would befall Teagan and Charlie if you don’t help her. 

“Diana,” you don’t care how much it pisses her off either.  “You’re not in your right mind. Let me just get you home.” You know she’s drunk but you can’t bring yourself to say the words as if somehow if you keep avoiding the truth, you’ll be able to dodge what happens when you get back to the house. As if somehow feigning ignorance will keep you from helping Teagan and Charlie pack their bags. 

“I am your mother! Your mother for crying out loud. Do not call me by my name like that. Just get into the car with me and come home.” Diana flails one arm in the direction of her truck. She points like it’s taking nearly all her strength to stay upright. 

 “Is it about me? Or is this about you?” you question. Patience will save you in the end but yours is wearing thin. To think she could charge down here after you’ve worked all day to make such demands. It’s easy to say it’s the alcohol, but you know that’s only the match to start the fire. Diana’s always been stubborn. “You have a family right now. Two children who love you and need you dearly. A husband who’s made deals with the devil for you. Is this really about wanting me home or is this about you?”

“What? What did Melvin do?” The words rush into each other as Diana speaks. “What are you talking about?”

I just want to save you from me, you think to yourself. A warm hand rests on your back, the smell of Calum’s cologne falling your way due to the change of direction in the breeze. He’s silent otherwise. The car seems to continue to rumble behind the three of you, you can hear the engine though the lights are off. 

Diana waves a hand in front of her face, as if clearing fog in front of her. “You know what, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I want you back home. Just come back home.” 

It feels hollow. Though you know it has to mean something for Diana to confront you, you just don’t believe that even as intoxicated as she is that there’s nothing more sinister beneath the surface. Perhaps, you keep waiting for it as some sort of vindication. As a way to prove to yourself that Diana will always be selfish in her desires. “Tell me why,” you demand once again. You just need her to say it. 

“You’re going to make me say it? Like I don’t already know I’m a monster for what I’ve done to you? Melvin and I were fucking kids when we had you. You remember being in your early twenties. You were going out with your friends no less, drinking the ni-” a hiccup interrupts her rant, “nights away. You wanted to have fun, let loose. And we couldn’t. Because we had you. And we fucked up, okay? Is that what you want to hear? We fucked up having a kid so young. Fucking imagine it. Twenty-two, twenty-three with your life just starting for it to all come to a screeching halt.

“I didn’t know anything about being a mother. Melvin didn’t know anything about being a father. We were just kids ourselves. And it looked so bleak at the start. Our careers hadn’t quite taken off yet but we could see where it was all going. But what were we going to do with a child too? All we had as some semblance of being parents was keep you alive, get you into school, and try to survive. But we fucked it, because guess what? It was a lot better to numb it all away in vodka, or tequila, or whatever we could get our hands on. Okay? We fucked it all up with you.  Even when Melvin’s parents passed away, we got that house and things started to look okay, we still fucked it.” 

Her laughter escapes her thick and wet. It sounds like the tears are choking on sour amusement. Her head falls, hair falling in a curtain around her face. Graying in the same way you notice Melvin’s--the years have aged them well beyond their early fifties. When she looks back up at you, all you see is how human she is. The wobbly chin, the snot running from her nose. It is a terrible existence to be human. You don’t even know what to say to such an admission of guilt. Your chest tightens but you don’t know if it’s anger or relief. Because you understand a little bit better now that the rush of parenthood could not have been easy. The vulnerability doesn’t make everything all better, just paints a deeper and fuller picture. You’ll still hurt just a little because of what they did. Diana will still be human. She’ll still big the person who was supposed do raise you but still fucked it up. 

Because at the end of the day, she was just unprepared. 

And you were just a kid unprepared too. The three of you thrusted into a whirlwind of life with not a thing to ground any of you, a lightning rod for the heartache and trauma as it turned out. But you’re tired of the lightning striking. Diana fucked up. Melvin fucked up. You fucked up. Because you’re all human. Though you want the words, I’m sorry, to follow you, you wonder if this is the best you’ll get. Your parents admitted to what they did. 

Your mouth falls, jaw slacking just a little but you don’t even have words right now for what you want to say. For wanting to almost thank you for finally admitting the truth. You want to tell her how much you hoped she hurt because you did too, but clearly none of that wishing was well spent. You want to tell her that you’re done. What you have is just what you have, and you don’t want to fight for anything more right now. But all you have are the half started syllables that croak out your throat. 

Diana’s voice is soft as she continues. “What were young twenty-somethings supposed to do in a house that fucking nice, in that neighborhood, besides fuck things up a little. But we’re-” another hiccup, “we’re better now. Just please come home. Let me in. That’s-that’s all I want. Let me in please. I am sick, so sick of everyone in that neighborhood watching you come and go with Charlie and Teagan. And I know they won’t ask. But they don’t need to because they have whatever stories they’ve made up in their heads. The way they just look at me and Melvin! It gets under my skin. It’s like I wear shame tattooed to my forehead. I can’t-I can’t keep going on like this.”

The two of you can’t keep this up. And just as much as you wanted to say thank you, you’re glad you didn’t. Because part of Diana’s desire is selfish, but aren’t they always. “Maybe we have to let each other go,” you return. “Maybe we’ve got to let things go.”

“I can’t. I just can’t. If I do, then I’ve failed.” Her voice shakes more. The sobs come racking up her chest. She curls into herself, keys clattering to the ground with the action. Diana is a leaf in a strong wind as she shakes. “Oh, I’ve failed,” she sobs. 

Your feet are carrying you the foot gap, your backpack thumping against your back. “You’ve got Charlie, and Teagan to be there for. Don’t fail them,” you encourage. It’s awkward as you straighten from grabbing her keys. You know this is where you might hold her to your chest, hug her tight and tell her that you’ll come home. 

But you know you won’t. Instead, you wind an arm around the back of her, guiding her gently towards Calum’s truck. Diana follows, a constant sniffle as she walks. Calum opens the door for her. But he watches you before speaking, “I got her. If that’s okay, of course.” 

The last sentence gives you pause. You watch, a hard line around his mouth at his displeasure. A tension pushing at his jaw like he wants to say more, but he won’t. Or perhaps, he’s asking for permission. Because you did ask him to take a step back with Diana. To let you handle her and only for him to intervene would you say he could. 

You nod. “Yeah, it’s okay, thanks. I’m going to take her car. Just keep her safe, yeah?”

“Always.”

You don’t even make it three steps before you catch the rumble of Calum’s voice. He’s not yelling, but he is clearly firm in his tone. Each word pushed over his lips heavy and weighty. “Are you trying to risk losing all three of your children? You want so much as a mother and I can sympathize with that. That’s your kid too walking to your car right now because you’re much too drunk to drive. Think about Charlie and Teagan who still need their mother. You have to do right by the two of them. Charlie and Teagan need to be your focus, not what you don’t have and not what other people think about you. I’ll take care of my partner. I will be there for them. I will do, be, give, and take care of whatever their needs are. You let me take care of them, let that be my responsibility, okay? But for the sake of your two children still under your care, forgive yourself and focus on them. Learn from the mistakes you’ve already made and do not repeat them again after tonight.”

Diana’s truck’s not hard to miss. Her park is crooked enough to make it obvious how she misjudged where the lines are. But not so obvious that you wondered how no cop pulled her over. The second you turn the engine on, the AC blast through the vents. The cabin has a sharp smell--old alcohol that’s dried down in the air. In the cupholders, you notice a pink tumbler. You shouldn’t. You already know she’s been drinking, but you crack it open and take a smell. The alcohol greets you well before you get the cup to your nose. 

There’s not many places to hide bottles so you turn on the light overhead to find a clean floors. Even in the back, though you do spot the spots where Teagan and Charlie probably sit, there’s not much in terms of crumbs or a mess. You turn back to the front and ease the glovebox open. It’s unlocked which is a saving grace. But as it falls open, you notice the small bottles clicking--collected undoubtedly over the weeks. 

“Oh, Diana,” you whisper as you close it. “I was hoping you’d make this harder for me.” Yet she hadn’t. She’d fallen so perfectly into her own demise and all you had to do was wait. You wanted her to get better. You wanted Melvin to get through to her. But she’s made her choices. And you made yours. 

You pull into the driveway of your childhood home and pull to the side of the house. The lights from Calum’s car cut out behind you but you watch. You watch in the rearview mirror as he gets out first and walks to the passenger side. He cracks open the door and Diana comes spilling out, unsteady and clumsy like a freshly born giraffe. The sight of her makes you question how you even got back to the house. All you could focus on were the rattle of the bottles as you drove, how you imagined they rolled around as you took turns. Did you run any red lights? Were you cutting people off? The memory of the route is so engrained that you just didn’t register the drive until now. Calum’s words, You let me take care of them, let that be my responsibility, ring in your ears. For the sake of your two children still in your care, forgive yourself and focus on them. 

But Charlie and Teagan. But Charlie and Teagan. 

How are they going to take it when you pull them away? Are they going to hate you? Would it even matter? Would their hatred even stop you once you open this car door? Your inhale is timed with the press of the push start to cut off the engine. Your exhale is timed with the cracking of the door. 

At the front steps, Diana reaches for her keys. You hold the keys still in your hand, out of her reach, and knock on the door. The shame crawls up her face. It swallows her even more than Calum’s coat around her frame. The door creaks open. “Di?” You hear Melvin as you watch Diana. She shrinks more into the coat over her shoulders. “Calum?” Melvin questions next. Your name follows in equal confusion. “Oh, damn it, Di, what have you done, baby?”

You hold her keys out to Melvin. He wraps his hands around the fob and you release your grip. “Melvin, are Charlie and Teagan here by chance? Are they asleep?” you ask and turn to face him now. 

He’s dawned in pajamas, clearly retired for the evening. “They’re here. Uh, they’re, they’re watching a movie right now.”

“I’m taking them. For the week.”

“No, no, you can’t,” Diana whimpers. “Please don’t. Please.”

“There’s a vodka bottle in the glovebox of her car as she confessed to me,” Calum interjects. “We are taking Charlie and Teagan for the week.”

“Mel, please,” Diana begs. 

“There are actually several bottles in her glovebox,” you add. “The small ones but still a few. Do you want to go take a trip to see?” you offer, watching the horror widen Diana’s eyes. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t take the kids from us,” she begs. 

“Di, I have been telling you that you needed to get extra help. I’ve told you that there were some consequences I couldn’t stop if things got worse. I’d rather Charlie and Teagan wonder why they got picked up for a week than for them to see much worse.” Melvin takes her hands gently, even as she whimpers and tugs against his hold. She’s ultimately too weak, and possibly too drunk to break Melvin’s hold. Once she’s secure to his chest, Calum’s jacket still around her shoulder, Melvin nods over his shoulder. “They’re in the living room.”

Calum takes your hand, his thumb a steady stroke over your skin. But he doesn’t move. The two of you watch each other, and Calum only nods. Maybe you were waiting for him to remind you this is what you’re supposed to do. Maybe you were waiting for someone to remind you that what you’re doing is coming from the right place.  But it’s enough for your legs to move again. You take the first step, up and over the threshold. The house is warm as you enter it. Diana whimpers behind you but you carry on. The TV gets louder as you get closer, Charlie and Teagan curled up under a shared blanket. 

Charlie spots you first, smiling. “You’re just in time for the best part,” he grins. 

You nod, hoping you can put on a realistic enough smile. “What are you watching?” your voice shakes and it betrays every hope you’ve had for this moment. To ease them out from the comfort of their film, ease them up the stairs, ease them into packing their own clothes for the week. 

His brows pull together. Charlie hands the bowl of popcorn to Teagan as he reaches for the remote. You want to stop him, tell him to keep watching for just a little bit longer. But he’s faster and pauses the movie. “What happened? Is it Mom?”

The little boy you’re dying to protect-the sweet innocent kid who should never have to grow up in the blink of an eye-morphs. You watch the frown lines and you know. Charlie’s probably known more than you ever suspected. “You two are going to spend the week with me and Calum. Is that okay?” you ask. 

“Will you tell me what’s wrong with Mom? Dad won’t tell us,” Charlie presses. 

God, you don’t want to do this. You know it should be Melvin’s job. You feel the trembles now in your own hands. “She really needs some help--doctors you know? Like there’s doctors for eyes, and legs, and hearts. There’s doctor’s for your mind. She just needs a little extra help so she can continue to be the mom that tucks y’all in at night and goes to school plays, and dance practices.”

“Her car smelled funny lately. Is it because of that?” Teagan questions. 

The sob chokes you, but you swallow it mostly down. You knew there was always more that they probably knew. But not that. Never did you ever want that. The tears are hot as you glance up at the ceiling. They sting along your lashes and you fight every ounce, every gram and molecule of your body not to scream. They’d fucked it up with you and that was supposed to be it.  It was only supposed to happen to you. 

Calum’s hand tightens around yours and all you can do is nod at Teagan’s question.  “She’s going to get help though,” Calum interjects. “Okay? That’s the important part. But you two will get an insider scope on the palace for a few days in the meantime.”

“Did you pack like I told you?” Charlie turns to Teagan with the question. And you know you can’t hold it in. The dam you’d been desperate to keep back breaks. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, shaky and behind it a soft but clear sob echoes behind it. “And I know, I know, I owe to the swear jar,” you follow up, almost immediately. 

“We’ll let it slide this time,” Teagan laughs. Her own voice sounds thick and shaky. 

Peeling your hand from Calum’s, you squat down in front of the couch, smoothing a hand over the side of their heads. “I never wanted this to happen to you two. Okay? Never. I wanted you to get all the bedtime stories you could stomach until you threw up. I wanted you two to do ballet, and play sports, and let me sneak you candy and get in trouble with Melvin because of it. I wanted you two to play in the backyard until you lost your voices and have Diana tell you to come inside and to please actually wash your hands before dinner. I know you can have that. But I don’t make the decision to take you from all that lightly. Okay? I love you guys so much.”

“We love you too,” Charlie whispers, slipping his arms around your neck in a hug. “Can we do all that with you?”

You can’t make promises that you don’t know if you can keep. But you know for damn sure, you’ll do everything you can to make it feel like it’s the same. “Kiddo, I’ll give it my best shot,” you whisper before kissing the top of his head. “I’ll do my damndest.”

Teagan wastes very little time to pile on, her body shaking in your hold. “I know, Teag. I know. You can bring the unicorn. I don’t care if we suffocate in that car because of it.”

She laughs, brief albeit, between her cries. But it’s a laugh nonetheless. 

They’re too big, you know that. But you collect Charlie and Teagan into your arms as best you can and cart them up the stairs. Diana and Melvin are nowhere to be found on the first floor, but upstairs may be a totally different story. Teagan tightens her hold around the collar of your t-shirt. She’s only getting a nose full of the grease and fish as it was the special this week. But she doesn’t seem to care. “We’ll all go together,” you promise into her hair. 

It’s not easy work to cart the added weight up the stairs, but you’re thankful for all the days in the gym you do get as you work your way up. You stop at Teagan’s room first. She slips down to crack open the door, but stands for a moment. “This…” she pauses and then looks to you. “Can I swear?”

You nod, holding out a fake note. “There’s your temporary pass.”

“This shit sucks,” she huffs. 

“Yeah,” you agree as Teagan walks inside. Her bedroom’s decked out with cotton candy pink fairy wallpaper, a baby pink canopy bed with her unicorn tucked into one corner of the room. The stuffed animal is huge but Calum wordlessly crosses the room to grab it. You get Charlie down and help Teagan with her bag. You double check it--there’s enough underwear for the week and a change of clothes after school but she’s missing an extra set of pj’s and her uniforms. You gather all that, including her toiletries, and sling the bag on your shoulder. She carries her shoes. 

The four of you carry on to Charlie’s room and follow a similar routine. You check the already prepared bag, add extra socks, pj’s and his school uniforms into the bag. “Anything you want to bring extra?” Calum asks. “Some figurines or books?”

“Can we bring the jumbo puzzle?” Charlie asks, pointing to a box on his shelf. 

“Absolutely,” he nods. 

A coloring book each and pencils gets tacked onto the list, but they keep the extra fairly minimal. Calum offers to take the first round of bags and the unicorn down to the truck. While he does that, you do another round to grab their school bags. They both help you with what they need but thankfully a lot of it are folders, notebooks, a few paperback books but nothing heavy. By the time you descend down the stairs, you notice Melvin waiting by the front door. He looks worried, chewing at his bottom lip. You’d be more upset if he didn’t seem so upset. 

As the stairs creak with your descent, he looks up. “Hey kiddos,” he starts. “It’s going to be hard. It’s okay if it’s scary right now. But I talked to your sibling about this ahead of time. You’ll be back home by Saturday. But I need you two to go with them and Calum for a few days. You’ll be able to call me anytime, okay? Day or night, I’m going to answer.”

“Why is Mom sick?” Teagan asks. “Is she going to the doctors like they say?”

Those are the million dollar questions, you know it. Melvin does too and the only thing you can do for a moment is share the same dead eye stare, because only Teagan would know exactly what to ask. 

Melvin sighs. “Your mom and I made pretty poor choices when we were raising your sibling. I know, a shock, right? Dear old dad making mistakes, no way. But I did. Your mom made mistakes too. We didn’t choose the best way to handle our situation at first and it led to some very big and hard consequences. Your sibling’s definitely been through a lot because of our choices. But your mom and I, we got help so we could do our best not to make those same choices again that might hurt you or Charlie the same-” the words catch. His voice quakes but Melvin continues on. “So we don’t hurt you the same way we hurt your sibling. And while we got better, it’s hard sometimes to always make the best choice. Like that time, Teagan, you forgot to hand me and mom the candy bar and we left the store without paying for it. So we told you that either you could go back with one of us and pay for it yourself or I would go back with it and return the candy because we didn’t pay and you didn’t want to choose either, right?”

Teagan nods. “Yeah, I remember. It was not fun.”

Melvin hums in agreement. “Yeah. Sometimes, the best choice is hard to make and you make the wrong one. Mom’s just having a hard time making the best choice right now. And sometimes the choices are smaller like the candy bar and sometimes they’re bigger. So Mom’s not sick in the same way you get sick with a tummy ache and go to the doctors. But she needs extra help to make the best choice here and there’s doctors that can help her.”

“I just want her to be okay. That’s all,” Teagan states. 

“I know you do, sweetpea. So do I. This won’t be a fun transition. The next couple days are going to be weird. And when you come back, Mom won’t be around for a little bit. It’s going to be strange and that’s okay if it feels heavy.”

“Can we just focus on the next few days? I don’t have a brain for much more,” Charlie interjects. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course, kiddo. Of course. I’m sorry. It is a lot, isn’t it? Let’s just focus on getting your shoes and jackets on. That okay? Then you can go with Calum and your sibling and they’ll take you to the palace.”

“Can we finish Wall-E at the castle?” Teagan questions. 

“It is my favorite,” Calum answers. “So, of course we can.” 

She grins. “I knew I liked you.”

Melvin helps get them both into their shoes and jackets--puffers bundled around their bodies to withstand the chill. It’s all too real when Charlie and Teagan reach a hand out each to you. You’re really taking them. You’re really telling Diana that she can’t repeat history again. You’re really doing the thing you’d wish someone had done with you. There’s a cacophony of ‘I love you’s’ like Charlie, Teagan, and Melvin can’t get them out fast enough. He helps get them into the car, a kiss to both their hands before the doors close. 

You don’t even register how the wind whips until you notice the billowing of Melvin’s flannel pajama pants in the night. “Keep them at home through Tuesday. I’ll call the school and let them know they’ll be out those days. Once I get their work, we can arrange something, yeah? So they don’t fall behind.” 

“I-I’m off tomorrow,” you return. “I have to pick up my car from the mechanics and do a fitting, but we can meet after work for you or something. And then that way, they’ll have the evening to do the work. I’ll call off Tuesday too, I guess.”

“Uh, here’s some cash for extra groceries too,” Melvin hands you the bills, a hundred on the top and a sizable stack in the middle of some smaller denominations. “And whatever else they may need during the week. Uh, no one’s currently on any meds. The last day for the antibiotics for Teagan’s ear infection was a couple days ago. So, she might still be a little bit more thirsty than usual. I’ll reschedule Charlie’s dentist appointment until the new year which will make it easier since Teagan missed hers too thanks to the ear infection. But yeah, I’m sorry this happened this way. Di told me she showed up at your job and that sounds pretty awful. I’m just glad she didn’t hit anyone drunk.”

“Makes two of us. But, I don’t need this much, Melvin. It’s--”

He folds his arms to his chest, closing himself off from the outstretched stack. “Keep it. Just keep it all, please.”

You nod and pocket the money. “Thanks, for telling them. The way you did. That couldn’t have been easy.”

“But they needed the truth. So you’re welcome. My ringer is on. So if you or if they need to give a ring, it’s all okay. Seriously, time doesn’t matter. I did add you to the drop off and pick up list at the school. I just did it Friday actually.”

“Oh. How lucky is that.”

Melvin’s smile is short lived, a short tuft of laughter falling from him. “Yeah, quite lucky. I’m trying to think if there’s anything else you’ll need. But I’m drawing a blank.”

“If, if anything comes up, just give me a ring. I’ll let my job know I need my phone on me because of some family stuff. It shouldn’t be a problem.” 

Melvin nods, but you watch his gaze, locked in where Teagan and Charlie are on the inside of the truck. He’s just a man--a father too--but he’s just a man and he knows he’s faulty. He knows he’s not perfect but all he wants now is to do right by his kids. Whether or not you count yourself in that mix doesn’t matter or stop Melvin from caring. 

“If, if it means anything, I appreciate your strength and courage. I know none of this is easy for you or for them.” It’s strange to offer Melvin that comfort. You don’t know if it’s truly your place or not, but you can see the quake of his lips, how his eyes glaze over. You understand what it means to be human. 

It’s a long moment, Melvin regarding you like someone would a wild animal--in awe, but still cautious. His arms drop, but hang for just a moment in the air like he might go for a hug. You think it may not be a bad idea but you don’t rush forward. His arms fall back down at his sides, but he smiles.  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

The evening falls hard. After you get Teagan and Charlie to the palace and help them with their bags plus yours to the residency wing, all you want to do deep in your bones is crash hard. But you help them settle down, tucked up into the lounge chair of a spare room and Calum runs to his room to get a few extra things to help set up the TV for them to resume Wall-E. It’s thick and awkward once you return from your shower. This isn’t the way you wanted to go down. Yet, this is the way it unfolded and you can’t do anything about it. Calum excuses himself, but presses a kiss to your head and promises that he’ll be back. So there’s only you, and Teagan, and Charlie and the movie still playing softly. 

 Teagan waves you over and you settle onto the end of the couch for her. 

“Yeah, Teag?”

“I’m sorry you went through that. What Dad talked about and what you told us before. Didn’t feel real until now I guess.”

You shake your head. “It’s not your fault, Teagan.”

“I know, but still. You didn’t have anyone. And we have you. I wish it were more fair.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you two have me too.” It’s not her job to worry. But you know she’s going to let it go completely, not when she climbs into your lap. 

Charlie slides in to close the gap. “Do we have to go to bed at our normal time?”

“Tonight, Charlie boy, no.”

“And you won’t leave us tonight, right?”

“You two will be in the bed up there and I’ll be asleep here.” The lounge chair rests right up against the full sized bed. So they should have plenty of space to share and you can rest relatively well on the chair below them. “But please do not wake me up with stinky feet in the morning.”

Charlie laughs but tucks into your side. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

One movie turns into two, then into three and by the time ten thirty rolls around, Charlie and Teagan are fast asleep. They have been for the last twenty minutes or so, but you’ve stayed pretty still to avoid waking them. “I think they’re fully asleep now,” you whisper over to Calum. He settled into the other end of the couch, but hadn’t intervened more than just to help--showing them where the bathroom was or getting snacks. But he’s gotten quiet too in the last hour. Maybe he, too, had succumbed to the day. 

Calum lifts his head, slowly towards you and nods. “I’ll take Charlie,” Calum offers. 

“You sure?”

He’s wordless, gingerly getting Charlie into his arms. You get Teagan into your grasps and help tuck her in. They settle easily and it’s an exhale. Your shoulders drop and instantly, the tears are stinging behind your eyes. “Hey, baby,” Calum coos softly. “It’s okay.”

You walk to the foot of the bed and Calum meets you there. It’s instantaneous as you melt into his hug. You don’t know who you’re crying for--them or yourself. But you don’t worry too much about it. It just feels right, like shedding out of something too small for you--you’re happy that the weight can fall with the tears. 

“I got you,” Calum reassures, a hand steady up and down your back. “I got you.”

_________________________________

The floor’s cold. Calum knew it would be when he refused your offer for you two to share the lounge chair. It would really only fit one of you comfortably and while the two of you could’ve made it work, he would rather himself be a bit sore in the morning than you. But you did make him take extra blankets in return. Which Calum is grateful for, but not even the two extra blankets keeps the chill of the floor fully at bay. 

The room’s pretty quiet. The hum of the heat is faint, which lets him know that it should be getting warmer soon. When Calum finally lets his eyes open, he turns his head to the left. You’re still on the chair, flat on your back, but your feet dangling over the edge a little. It’s clear you’re awake too. Maybe for longer than him, but he’s not sure. It’s hard, he figures. First your car, now this. You shook, and shook in his hold last night. He was sure you’d whither away but he didn’t stop you. He couldn’t. 

“Morning,” he whispers. His voice is thick and gruff but you turn to look at him. 

“Morning.” You sound less hoarse. But you do smile. The tears from last night don’t hold to your face--your eyes aren’t red and there’s no puffiness like a post cry usually leaves you. 

“Been up a while?”

“Maybe an hour?”

Calum’s phone shakes against the carpeted floors. He’d texted a few people that his morning meetings would have to be delayed until next week or moved around this week some. But he’s hoping he hasn’t missed anyone. When the screen lights up again, Calum notices a message from Miranda, What happened last night? Are you two okay? 

“Shit,” he huffs, but pushes up to handle what’s bound to be a mess. It’s not like Miranda to worry too much. But Calum can’t remember right now if he’d messaged her last night or not about the ordeal. Now with this, it’s not shaping up to look too good at this moment. 

“Everything okay?”

“It’s Miranda. Let me call her right quick, okay? Then we get breakfast started for them, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” But there’s an unease to the way you answer. Calum knows Miranda asking what happened is not good. And you probably suspect it too. 

“I’ll tell you anything you need to know, baby. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.”

“Like you did with Diana?” you questioned. 

He’d hope you’d understand what he was asking for, that he just needed the moment to step in if you’d let him. Calum nods. “Yeah.”

“Miranda’s a tough one,” you muse and then carry your gaze back to the ceiling. “I trust her.”

“Good, because we really don’t have a choice,” Calum teases. Your exhaled laughter is short, but he pushes to his knees and kisses your cheek. “I’ll be back fast.”

Your hand nestles around his jaw--it’s probably a hair stumbly since he shaved yesterday. Though he did actually replace his razor head like he was supposed to so it’s hopefully still a pretty smooth shave for the rest of today at least. You pull him in for a kiss--short, but firm. “Thanks for yesterday. I didn’t say that yet but it means a lot for you to help like you did.”

“Of course, baby. You’re beyond welcome.”

You two share another kiss, no hesitations or worries about the morning breath you both are sporting and Calum eases himself up and out the room, as to not wake Teagan or Charlie who seem to still be solidly asleep. His phone shakes again just as he gets the door closed behind him. Another message from Miranda, Hello? Are you two okay?

Calum’s call is answered immediately. He doesn’t even think a full ring goes through before Miranda is answering, “Holy moly, thank goodness.”

“What are you hearing? It’s almost like you care about me or something for you to be that nervous.” Calum knows she does, but she’s not been quite as vocal about it previously. 

“Well, yes, yes, I would be quite nervous if what I’m hearing is true. There’s some tweets circulating about you and your partner getting into an altercation outside of Forest with some stranger. Some woman attacked you two. What’s going on? Do you know this person?”

“No one was attacked, Miranda. It was their mother confronting them not totally sober about some family stuff. But we probably shouldn’t let that narrative of being attacked circle for too long. That certainly won’t help anyone.”

“Oh, are they okay? Don’t they have siblings too?”

“Yeah, they’re all okay as they can be. Charlie and Teagan are in the castle right now. I alerted security a couple weeks back that the two might need to stay here for a little bit, so there’s nothing left to do on that front. But for the kids sake, it’s not ideal to say it was an attack. Diana’s--she’s not a harm to anyone. Not that way,” Calum offers. She’s definitely a danger to folks if she keeps driving drunk. But he doubts that confrontation would’ve ever gotten violent. Loud--surely, but not physically dangerous. 

“So, we’re saying it’s a private family matter?” Now that’s a question Calum knows he doesn’t need to answer. “Perhaps, we should ask everyone to respect your partner’s right to privacy. This could save you two from needing to handle anything at the charity event in a couple weeks. Two birds, one stone. It’s not entirely ideal, but should we not be on top of this, their mother is going to get crucified.”

It worries Calum--if there is an official statement, god only knows what it could mean for you and your job in terms of safety. So far, you’d made little mention about being recognized. Though, Calum wonders if a lot of that is tied to how little you’re patron facing. This official statement does mean there’s a bigger can of worms about the relationship--how comfortable you are with being in the public eye- but that’s a can of worms that was going to come up eventually, though time was a precious gem in that scenario. Yet, if there’s no statement a whirlwind of scrutiny will surely come. 

“Do it,” Calum exhales. Ideally, he’d tell you first about it, get you to weigh in on the situation. But it’s a lose-lose in either scenario. The thing he won’t do is have Diana villainized in the media though. Though her previous actions aren’t great, and the way she chose to have that conversation was unproductive, she doesn’t deserve to be out in the media nor does she deserve to be a villain publicly. She’s human--as plain and as simple as that. 

“It’ll be released today. But you both will need to approve it. I’ll slate it for noon, try and get it out with enough time for the evening news cycle to pick it up before there’s too much coverage of whatever social media’s coming up with.”

“Just give me a ring when you get it done and we’ll come to look it over.”

“Will do. I’m glad you two are okay and please pass along my care and concern to your partner. Family matters are never easy.”

“I will. Thanks, Miranda.” 

What a way to start the morning, Calum thinks to himself as he concludes the call with Miranda. His text to his mother’s still unanswered. But knowing his mom, she’s at the very least seen the text. It’s probably too cruel to even think about school, but you don’t seem to be rushing and Calum’s going to follow your lead on that. There’s a bit more noise when he eases back into the room, your voice low but still audible from behind the door. He doesn’t make out anything specific until he’s shuffling back into the room. 

“Oh, the lights, they burn,” Charlie huffs, covering his eyes. 

“Sorry, Charlie,” Calum laughs. His hair sticks up off his head in all kinds of directions. 

“Do we have to go to school today?” Teagan asks. 

“No, not until Wednesday. Melvin’s getting your work for today and tomorrow and I’ll pick it up. Would you two like to come too?” They nod at the question, clearly still under sleep’s spell but coherent. 

“You’ll get to see my suit today too,” you offer.  Like maybe you’re hoping it’ll lift their spirits. 

“Suit? For what?” Charlie asks. 

“I painted something for charity and it’s a big fancy thing in December. But I try the suit on again today to make sure it fits well. And I’m pretty sure we will finalize what accessories I’m wearing too or at least get an idea.  I don’t know. It’s all new to me. But I’ll need help though. If you guys are up for it.” 

“Like a ball?” Teagan questions. 

You shrug. “Sort of. But it’s to help raise money for different places who are helping the community, so it’s not just about the fancy clothes.”

“Like a ball,” Teagan concludes and falls back into the pillows. Charlie follows her lead and reclines back too. His descent is less forceful than hers. 

Calum laughs at their antics, easing behind where you are perched at the end of the bed. “Do you guys want a tour after breakfast?” he offers. The fitting’s not until 2 and there’s a long stretch of time before them. 

The two pop right back up. “Could waffles be a thing at breakfast?” Teagan asks. 

“Uh, we can definitely see if it can be done,” Calum answers. He’s not entirely sure if all the supplies are in the kitchen, but given that it’s a little closing in on 8, he’s hoping that most of the kitchen is clear so it’s a little less embarrassing of a scramble.

“I’m in.” She laughs, peeling the covers off herself. “I just need to get dressed.” 

Charlie volunteers to hang back while you help Teagan get ready, but Calum sees it. The same thing in you, a watchfulness is budding in Charlie. A gaze computing and calculating. Calum settles onto the lounge chair, wanting to approach but not wanting to startle. “Can I ask you a question, Charlie?” Calum starts.

The young boy nods, eyes widening a little when his gaze settles. “Yeah, sure.”

“Is there any particular reason why you told Teagan to have a bag packed? Did you notice anything?”

“Overhead Dad talking one night. It was right before bedtime and I got done with my bath so I was going to ask for a couple more minutes to play, but he was on the phone. Heard him talking about how he was worried about Mom and how he wasn’t sure if he should have bags packed for us to stay elsewhere for a little bit. I didn’t hear it all, just went back to my room and picked out the book to read because I got scared about getting in trouble. But the next day I mentioned it to Teagaon. I didn’t understand why we’d have to leave, but now, I guess it makes more sense.”

“I’m sorry you overheard that and now, too, that you have to deal with this big change.”

“Thanks, Calum. It’s-it’s going to be weird if Mom’s not home when we get back.”

Now that Calum hadn’t considered. How custom they were to both parents being in the house. But Diana does need help, intense help and she needs it now more than ever. “New things are always weird and strange, aren’t they at first? But they get less strange with time.” It’s too dismissive to say that things will get better later. But Calum knows time is the biggest aid to new wounds. 

Charlie nods. “I guess they are, yeah.”

Calum can hear from the bathroom attached to the room that you and Teagan may be getting close to done. And it’ll be better to be proactive, Calum figures. “Do you want help? Getting your stuff ready next?”

It’s only a nod, but Calum takes it as a good sign in the end. Charlie’s rather quick to put together his outfit, but it’s clearly a habit for him to lay it out on the bed. When Charlie looks up to Calum, Calum’s not sure what it means but he looks over the clothes--the long sleeve t-shirt and jeans will suffice for the forecasted weather. “A fan of the arts,” Calum jokes, noticing the spiderman logo screen printed onto the front of the shirt. 

Charlie laughs. “Comics. But sure. It’s okay, though, right? The clothes?”

“Yeah, Charlie, they’re alright.”

The thing Calum is sure won’t be alright though is when he has to tell you about the circulation and stories being created. But he knows he has too. He just needs the right opening. It probably won’t be smart to try and discuss it openly in front of Teagan and Charlie, but he has to act fast. Mirana will be calling back soon as she’ll no double be earlier than her self imposed noon deadline. 

In the interim, after Charlie goes to get ready and Teagan settles in front of her bag and starts pulling out hair boss, Calum knows his window is still not open. 

“Would you be okay if I put together an outfit for you today? Just to take that off your hands,” Calum offers to you. He knows you probably have stuff in your bags. But still, he feels like he should offer, that he should take something off your hands if he can. 

“Oh, sure. Thanks, love. Did everything go okay with Miranda?”

“Well, there’s a statement going out,” Calum hazards slowly. “We’ll need to read it together but I think we should discuss it in more detail later.”

The understanding settles--you glance over to Teagan who’s approaching closer and then back to the closed bathroom door. Calum doesn’t shy away, moving in to kiss your forehead. “I know, baby. I know. Just one thing at a time. Breakfast and a tour. Miranda will call me once she’s done.”

“When it rains, it pours, doesn’t it?” you sigh, but nod.

“It’s a good thing the umbrella was invented. I’ll be back in a few minutes with your clothes.”

“Thanks again.”

Calum’s more than happy to do anything and everything to help through the week. It’s going to be hard, he knows or at least theorizes. But he’s happy to do what he can. So if it’s helping you get ready so that you can get Charlie and Teagan ready, he’ll do it. If it means he has to go out and get stuff for waffles, he’ll do it. It doesn’t matter. Because in the end, he knows the things that will stick with you and your siblings are what people did to help. 

Calum is mindful not to take too long as he showers and gets ready. Where the water might cascade down his skin in a lavishly longer shower, Calum keeps it quick. His own attire is second, as he slips into jeans and a sweatshirt. Efficacy takes president over everything. Though you're not overly picky about your attire, Calum does want you to still feel like you’re put together. So he grabs one of his button ups, a bright orange one, and layers one of your solid long sleeved t-shirts under it to withstand the cold. When he gets back to the guestroom, you’re supervising Charlie while he brushes out his own hair. 

“Should I wear it like Calum’s?” Charlie asks you via your reflection. 

“Well,” you chuckle, pulling his fine hairs back gingerly with your fingers. “It might make you look like Ponyboy which I don’t know if that’s your style just yet.”

Charlie shakes his head and brushes it back into his normal style. “Nope, you’re right. Not my style. Who’s Ponyboy?”

“A character from the book, The Outsiders.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever read that.”

“I read it in high school. So that’s not shocking.”

“Do you think I could read it?”

“Let me re-read it first before I answer that because I don’t remember the plot all that well. Though, it’s definitely violent.”

“Okay.”

Calum slides in as Charlie steps out. “Here, baby.” The clothes and your toiletries rest in his hands. It feels like a humbling offering, that this is all he has, but it’s something. It’s better than nothing. “Thank you,” you whisper and then slip back into the bathroom.

“Is this your room?” Teagan asks, looking around the bedroom a bit more closely. 

Calum shakes his head. “No, mine is a few rooms down. But if I’m honest, my room is too messy, so not grounds for a good first impression.”

“I can’t wait to have a messy room.”

“Your room is already messy,” Charlie interjects to Teagan’s point. 

“It’s got a lot of stuff. It’s not messy. We’re not allowed to have messy rooms. You know this.”

Calum can’t help his laughter. At the very least, this kind of bickering hasn’t gone. It’s something he wished he experienced more of. Him and the boys definitely have it, but it’s not quite the same as a sibling, he figures. Charlie huffs that at least he doesn’t have nearly as much stuffed into his room as Teagan, but there’s a bit of a smile between them as they bicker. They know. Just like Calum does, they do care about each other at the end of the day. 

“I know Teagan wants waffles. Anything you fancy, Charlie?” Calum asks. 

He takes a moment to ponder, head swaying as he seemingly goes through the options. “I think I’m feeling oatmeal, if there’s any of course.”

“I think there should be. It’s a shame, isn’t it? That I don’t even know what’s in my own kitchen.” To be fair, Calum does know vaguely what’s in the fridge. But he has grown accustomed to the sort of rotation of a menu being preplanned and then putting in requests for anything special. Undoubtedly, it’s just easier for everyone in the current system, but it would be nice to be a bit more aware about the little things. 

“You’re probably really busy, so it’s understandable,” Teagan offers.

The bathroom door cracks open, you emerging in the bright orange button up still open, and sleeves pulled up on your forearms. Calum likes you in his clothes. It’s not possessive, not some way to mark you as his. It’s the way you look at home. You wear it like it’s always been yours and it’s probably the way it’s not fully buttoned, the bottom tucked loosely into your jeans, a deep v of the material resting against your chest. Calum’s hoping he can see you more often in his clothes, more often in this environment like you belong. 

But as you round up Teagan and Charlie and lead down to the kitchen, Calum thinks maybe in some ways this the ways you do show up like you belong. When you let them into the kitchen first, and you make a beeline straight for the fridge, perhaps Calum should worry less. The kitchen’s quiet. There’s a glass on the counter, left like someone was still drinking from it and stepped away. But Calum’s not sure who it could be. He thinks it’s the girl that took over the night shift after your departure. He hadn’t gotten her name yet. She’s nice--the food’s good and she’s accommodating. But shockingly, even with Calum’s habit of evening snacking, he doesn’t run into her too much. 

Calum helps Teagan and Charlie into the stools at the island counter and then moves to start your coffee. It’s hard wired now, should you stay in the morning, and though Calum still wants to do more, he doesn’t let go of the little things that he can do. The spoon clinks against the mug as he works in the creamer and sugar. Teagan’s waffles are just hitting the iron by the time he gets the liquid to the right shade of brown and slides it your way. 

“Thank you,” you smile at him. 

“You’re welcome. And Charlie asked for oatmeal, if possible,” he adds cracking open one of the pantry doors. Thankfully, a container of oats stares back at him. A saving grace it is as he pulls it down. 

“Got it. What do you want? Usual?”

“Well, minus biscuits,” Calum teases. 

“Next time,” you laugh.

“Oh, hi.” Calum turns at the sound of Teagan’s voice and he spots the new girl on the night shift. Teagan and Charlie wave at her. She waves back, but the shock is still evident on her face. 

“Hi, Val,” you call out over your shoulder. “Those are my siblings--Teagan and Charlie. Sorry if we’re in the way.”

“No, no,” Val returns. “Not in the way, I’d cleaned up anyway. Just shocked me I guess. I did worry when I didn’t see you, Your Highness, at breakfast.”

“Still kicking,” Calum returns. “Didn’t mean to cause alarm.”

“It’s quite alright. But this seems like a family affair, so I’ll give you all space. Nice meeting you two,” Val states to Tegan and Charlie.

“Nice meeting you too,” they echo.

“Did you eat, Val?” you call out even as she retreats. Her nod comes quickly. “Seriously.”

“I-I did.”

“Sit.” It’s a command. Not one to be ignored either, at least not one Calum would ignore either that’s for sure. Calum watches Val slink back towards the table but not the kitchen island. He takes the opportunity to pull down glasses for Teagan and Charlie. 

“I get that like I took your job once you left. But technically, you can’t boss me around anymore,” Val teases. 

“Yet,” you laugh, “you still sat.”

“You’re terrifying,” she snorts. 

You move with purpose, a dance of stove to fridge to pantry with very few stumbles as you go. It’s a sight Calum’s seen many times but it’s still mesmerizing each time he gets the chance to witness it. The plates clink--Teagan’s two waffles and scrambled eggs. A bowl of oatmeal, topped with blueberries, placed in front of Charlie. Calum knows his plate well before it hits the counter. He takes it but watches you load up another plate too. Without being called, Val shuffles up to collect her plate. Calum’s not going to let you forget about yourself, so he watches carefully as you make another bowl of oatmeal. When your spoon digs in, he finds himself reaching for his own plate. Breakfast passes in relative silence. Just a clink of forks and spoons against plates and bowls. It’s a little awkward, but nothing that doesn’t dissipate with time. 

As Calum gets the last of the dishes into the rack, his phone shakes again from his pocket.  He’s hoping it’s not Miranda. It was still too early even for her to have the statement done and drafted, given that he was partially aware of another meeting between her and some others that was set to occur this morning as well. He had not been needed for such a meeting, but had noticed the invite sitting on his calendar. Yet, Miranda's name is bolded across his screen. Statement is ready. Where are you?

Calum sighs as he works his fingers over the screen. Part of it is fear. He hadn’t been able to talk to you yet but that’s not the conversation to have in front of your siblings. Even he knows that. Could you meet us at the new shed in half an hour? 

“Miranda?” you question. 

He nods. “Yeah.” 

“That was fast.”

He grins, looking up from the screen just as another message loads in. “Why do you think we keep her around?”

“She must never know about my doubt,” you grin around the top of your mug. 

“Secret is safe with me.” Calum glances down back to her response, Half an hour. And though it’s not a lot, Calum knows it’s the affirmative. “She’s going to meet us at the shed in thirty. But,” Calum starts and spins to face Charlie and Teagan who are seated still at the island. “That still gives us plenty of time for the tour.”

The two cheer and work themselves down from their chairs. “Where’s first? Can we see your office too?” Charlie questions. 

It’s a small miracle--that they seem happy and eager to view the castle in the midst of their situation. A saving grace Calum is sure for you more than anything too. “Sure, let’s start on that wing and then work our way down and outside to my mum’s garden. Sound good?”

“Your mom gardens? That’s really cool,” Teagan notes. “I help Mom with her flowers sometimes. But the bugs still freak me out a little.”

“There’s so many legs on some of them. I get it,” Calum offers. “Now, please keep arms and legs inside the ride at all times. There will be a quiz at the end.”

Calum leads the group, Charlie and Teagan in the middle and you bring up the rear. Though Calum can’t show them into the parliament floor-the room that he’s sure they’ve seen most often in their textbooks for all the votes-he does lead them through the halls. Portraits and plaques litter the wall. Perhaps it’s the years Calum’s spent that makes them fade into the background until now. When he points out to his relatives and ancestors and other prominent figure heads, he wonders if he slowed down in these hallways if it would feel the same to him as it does to Charlie and Teagan. 

“Oh, what’s that I hear? The sound of laughter in these halls?” The jovial tone gives it away but Calum looks up from his phone, poised still from snapping the picture of Charlie and Teagan imitating the pose of the stonehead to see his head peering out of his own office door. 

“Hey, Dad. This is Charlie, and Teagan. I’m just showing them around real fast.”

“Hi, Your Royal Majesty,” the two kids echo, all of their laughter sucked up immediately. And Calum gets it--to them this is still the King. 

“Oh, please, I’m David. No need for that title. Makes me feel old. Nice to meet you two. Have heard a lot.”

They turn to you. “You talked to the King about us?” Charlie questions, the shock thick over his words. “I mean like, the King.”

You nod at the question. “David’s Calum’s dad, so yeah, just a little. But I am sure the two of you will remain on your best behavior or else.”

It’s not even a threat you can get out fully before laughing. Calum snickers at it before adding on, “I think the real threat might be my mum. Love you, Dad, but the rosy cheeks are a hard sell in terms of discipline now.”

“Hush,” his dad laughs, as he lands a playful but still firm pat on Calum’s shoulder. “But your mother did have a rather stronger backbone than I did. Not without trying of course.”

“Is Mum in her office by chance? Sorry I haven’t talked more since my messages,” Calum offers. He’d let them both know what was going on and they were both understanding of the situation. 

“In here,” his mum calls out. 

Calum circles around and waves to his mother. She’s perched on the couch, glasses resting on the end of her nose. “Hi, Mum.”

“Are those siblings I hear?”

“Yeah, just showing them around.”

“Well, then,” she laughs before pushing up, “thanks for a heads up. Everyone’s holding up, okay, yeah?”

“Yeah, we are.” It’s a warm hug that she greets Calum with, quick, but still strong. Calum probably wouldn’t even consider the kind of hug if not for the circumstances that had unfolded. But part of him really wants you and your siblings to have the same embrace. Maybe something of a semblance of normalcy in the tumultuous time. 

His mother is gentle as she approaches, wrapping you in a hug first. “So good to see you.”

“Hi, Joy,” you whisper back in the embrace. 

“And your siblings! Hi, Charlie. Hi, Teagan. You two are looking quite well. I haven’t seen a spiderman shirt in so long. Goodness.”

Charlie beams. “He’s one of my favorites, ma’am.”

You slip in close to Calum as Joy laughs. “Perhaps, I should get you one since she hasn’t seen one in a long time.”

He snorts at your verbal jab. It’s the straight face in which you deliver it, like it’s a legitimate consideration. Yet, perhaps for you it could be. “I could match Charlie so it might be nice.” 

“You sap.” The tease is paired by your hand slipping into his. His hold tightens around yours. The touch is familiar but still always electric--a soft assurance that still always manages to send a zap down his spine. As much as Calum wishes he had some sort of rebuttal, he lets himself settle into silence. He is a sap. But you always embrace it. So why would he change that? 

“Do you know where you two are headed next on this tour?” David asks. “There’s quite a bit to see.”

Teagan and Charlie shake their heads. “No clue. Just following Calum’s lead,” Charlie answers. 

“Aye, good, good. Well, I do encourage stopping by the kitchen too. I didn’t tell you this, but I hear there’s perhaps a sweet treat or two in there.”

There’s a gleam, a shine in their eyes at the potential for sweets. You sigh. “After dinner, I promise. But not a second before.”

“Then I guess we shouldn’t wait too long on this tour. I want a treat,” Teagan laughs. 

“I guess that’s our sign,” Calum smiles. 

“Nice meeting you two,” his mother returns, waving as they continue on down and back to a set of stairs. It’ll lead them to the front of the office wing, unlike how they entered. But Calum takes the moment to show off the front lawns, a fountain bubbles on this side in comparison to the residency side where his mother’s garden resides. 

Yet, the closer and closer Calum leads the group to the garden the more he worries about who might’ve been a witness to the events last night. Sure Forest is in the downtown area. It’s rapidly built up and a lot of small businesses are moved into the commercial spaces, which makes it a fun place to spend a Saturday afternoon. One can try out the new coffee shop and spend hours taking laps around the city blocks. The outskirts of the area have roads for cars, but once in the middle of the shopping area, it’s pedestrian traffic only. No cars, but a few cyclists who use the absence of cars as refuge to make their commutes easier. But Sundays are pretty quiet after about four. Though, with the inclusion of a few more bars, it makes sense that perhaps there were some stragglers getting an early start to the Monday blues. 

Though, he may never know. Someone could’ve been passing by and then stopped once they heard the shouting. Or maybe it was some pap who narrowed down where you’d been working and was just waiting for the right moment. It doesn’t make him happy to consider these possibilities. It actively makes his stomach churn at the thought of someone waiting for you, waiting for the right moment to strike. But he can’t ask you to change jobs again. Especially not now. Though maybe he could make some negotiations, make calls for some leverage to keep you and your family safer a bit longer. 

“Oh my god, look at them!” Teagan shouts, pointing to the leaves of some vegetable sprouted from the ground. Calum’s not sure what it is but he watches as you edge nearer to her. “They’re as big as my head!”

“Perhaps, I could plant you as a cabbage,” you tease in return. 

“Good luck with that.”

“Can I go inside?” Charlie asks, pointing to the doors to the renovated shed. The question hangs for a moment and Calum realizes that Charlie is looking in his direction.

“Yeah, of course. Just be careful of the painting,” Calum returns, pulling the key from his pocket. “That’s the one your sibling’s working on for the charity.”

“You got it. Thanks.” 

Calum follows Charlie inside for a few steps, just enough to slick on the small space heater. “Just in case you’re cold, yeah.”

“Teagan, look at this!” Charlie calls out. It’s all she needs before she shuffles past Calum, the materials of her coat swishing as she jogs by. The shed seems to be enough of a distraction for them. 

“How bad is it?” you ask, sliding in next to Calum. The two of you stand a few feet from the shed. It’s still a clear line of sight inside, watching as Charlie and Teagan settle at the bench, laughing amongst themselves. But the distance gives the two of you the illusion of privacy. 

“Bad,” Calum returns. “I wish there was a better way to say it.” He really does. God, what he wouldn’t give to have better news to deliver. Yet he doesn’t have anything other than the truth. “People were saying Diana attacked us and I know, I know that’s so far from the truth. Miranda basically had to confirm our relationship and state that it’s a private family matter and to respect your right to privacy as you handle things. We’re going to do everything we can to make sure Charlie and Teagan don’t get caught up in this.”

“Who else was even in the parking lot though? I know it’s downtown, and that’s a busy area. But I just don’t understand who else would’ve stayed to watch that.”

Calum wishes he had answers to that. He hadn’t seen anyone, but he too was pretty preoccupied by what was unfolding. And all he has are theories, none of which can be thoroughly proven at this point. But that matters less, still their first step is to squash rumors before they worry about who started them. “Could’ve just been a random bystander,” he offers. 

“Could’ve been paparazzi too,” you return with a sigh. 

“But we don’t know that,” Calum counters. Perhaps, if he says it enough it will be the truth. Perhaps, if he says it enough he can still protect you. Not that it’s a failure, not that Calum could keep you out of the public eye forever. It’s hard though to know that your descent into public opinion is this harsh, that it’s this far out of your control or his. If all Calum can do is make the landing softer, he will. 

“Look at the lovebirds,” Miranda calls out. “So, a rather busy morning, but nothing new.” Her approach is tip toed and slow. Calum notices how wet the grass is and knows her heels must be sinking with each step which makes her caution more understandable. 

“We’ll come to you. Stay off the grass. Because I know I’ll hear about your shoes if they get ruined,” Calum laughs. And he would, in all good faith, but she won’t let it go without the occasional jab. Miranda tip toes onto the small rock path and waits, tapping at the screen in her hands. 

“Charlie, Teagan, stay inside for me, yeah? Grab some paper off that back shelf and color if you want. Just don’t touch those paints on the middle shelf please.” It’s a clear directive but you offer it gently, letting them decide for themselves if they’ll take it. 

“Roger!” Charlie hollers back, slipping out to venture towards the shelf. 

The apology burns the tip of Calum’s tongue. He knows it’s not necessarily his fault that this got caught on tape. He knows that it’s not his fault that Dianna decided that drinking was the best choice to make. Calum knows that there’s very little that he could’ve done to stop this. His influence is not that strong or extends that far. Yet, with every step towards Miranda, he battles with himself on if he should say those words. If he should apologize or not; if it would matter at all. 

Miranda flips the tablet over, extending it. “You doing okay?” she asks to you. It’s a genuine question. Even if Miranda is business first and questions later, Calum knows that she can have a gentle touch when needed. 

There’s a shrug before you speak. “I think so. I think once the shock wears off it’ll sink in more.”

“I understand. As a heads up,  I’ve ensured to emphasize that these are family private matters and that respecting your family’s privacy is of the upmost importance. This will spark a broader conversation about you two and the relationship, which ultimately this post will affirm as well. So there is a choice, I want to ask: do you want to proceed with this statement or do you want to stop? Calum opted to make the statement, but I wasn’t able to confirm if you were in the same camp.”

“It feels like a damned if you do, damned if you don’t position we’re in. But can I read first before I decide?”

“Absolutely.”

Your hand hovers, not quite grasping the device but close enough to do it. So Calum takes hold, tapping to keep the screen from going completely dark. He gets it. That if you do read through it it makes the whole thing that much more real. But every little thing  that he can do to help lighten that load just a little, he will do. You slide in a little closer, shoulder centimeters from Calum’s chest as you two read over the screen: In light of the pictures and theories surfacing from a discussion that took place last night, we would like to ask the public to please respect the privacy of everyone involved. While some may be inclined to take these events for entertainment, we urge and ask everyone to please remember that there is a family at the center of these current issues that wish to keep things private. Thank you for your understanding. 

It feels hollow as Calum reads through it. He’d want to say more, how there’s children that also impacted, that you’re impacted, how you didn’t ask for anything of this. But that’s too much and this statement feels like too little. There would never be enough, or a middle ground. This is why Miranda does the important work. It’s why she’s here, because she can get close. But he’s too involved to see the objective here. 

“Anything you want to change?” Calum asks. The seconds have stretched, for far too long and he’s not sure if it’s a bad thing or not. There’s nothing he can think of, but it is about you at the end of it all. 

Your exhale is heavy. “No, no, I don’t think so. I just--I guess it doesn’t really matter. I just want Charlie or Teagan to be safe in all this,” you direct the last piece to Miranda. 

“We’ll do what we can to keep this contained,” Miranda assures. “We’ve got people who will be connecting with some tabloids, ensuring no pictures surface and nothing else comes up.  But we can’t stop them all, unfortunately. The court of public opinion and social media is a wild one, but if we can curb tabloids we can get a strong hold on the issue. The waves may get a little rocky, but we’re still at the helm of this ship. Trust me on that.”

“I trust you. Thanks for this. I’m okay with moving forward.”

Calum hands the tablet back to Miranda. “Thanks, again, Miranda. We appreciate it.”

“Oh, just doing my job. But of course. It’ll be out soon.” Her heels clack over the rocks. Always a woman of business, always waiting for the next shit storm should it come. And in this case, Calum is hoping it never does. His hope may be useless ultimately. But he doesn’t want to let it go just yet. 

The mid-morning remains chilly. Even in the heat of the shed, or Calum’s truck to pick up your car, the weather never truly breaks. It doesn’t stop Calum as he sits in the truck, with the windows cracked. The repairs on the wheel look fine, but he waits, and waits, windows cracked until you let me know you’re okay. When you throw a thumbs up out of the window, Calum responds with the same and the two of you start back onto the road. With grocery already collected, and the looming 2PM deadline, it’s a pretty straight line shot back to the castle. 

The drive helps with the ache. His fingertips buzz, wanting to see what’s happening now. Miranda confirmed that she was able to get up before noon, but had given her standard speech about not looking at the media within the first couple of hours.  It’s going to be loud-the news is always brash and cacophonous the moment news breaks. But Calum wants to be able to tell you it’s better, that the statement’s hardly a drop in the bucket. It most likely won’t be. But the distraction of the road helps, even as his phone buzzes from the cupholder. 

The distraction would help a lot more if the drive didn’t feel so short. By the time he returns to the castle and backs into the spot next to you, Calum’s reaching for his phone. He waves you ahead of him and raises his phone--like it’s something important. And while it is important that Calum does check in on the headlines and the response, it doesn’t have to be right now. 

I didn’t think they were dating that seriously. Hope everything’s okay. 

Who the hell is that?

I mean it was pretty obvious they were together. But who is that woman? She looks crazy as hell

Calum swipes from the responses directly under the post. A stupid idea. All the chatter will be people's way too invested in looking for entertainment and dramatizing the things that happen to others. Perhaps waiting for more of an uproar would’ve been smart too. But choices have been made now. Taking down the statement would only serve to make more of an uproar than anything as well. It was a lose-lose, but there’s still a biting sting at the reality. There’s truly no winning, just options with the least amount of damage. 

There’s little news yet in terms of headlines. A few that sprung up and perhaps, people are waiting for closer to the afternoon news cycle to make their stances. Prince Calum and his partner cornered, reads one tabloid. Not as salacious as Calum thought but he clicks onto the webpage. All it does is divulge that a bystander happened upon the altercation and then concludes with the statement embedded into the article about asking for privacy. But as Calum re-reads the piece a bit of a closer look, he notices a couple of sentences. There’s indication based on the royal family’s response that the person who approached is family. But those who overheard the conversation note that the instigator didn’t appear sober. 

It’s the final nail in the coffin--a sharp strike of metal on metal that echoes in Calum’s brain as he reads the line over and over. But those who overheard the conversation note that the instigator didn’t appear sober. Should your parents still be in a government program for assistance or should a conversation ever come up about  Charlie and Teagan remaining in the care of your mother, this piece of media alone would be her undoing. Calum’s not sure if it would hurt Melvin as well, but considering that they are still married, it might. His first instinct is to send the link to Miranda, see if she can do anything to bury it as deep into the void of news. But would he be overstepping?

“I know I asked this before, and please don’t send me for a beheading, but are you sure you’re okay? You’re a lot quieter than usual.”

Your question is soft, but Calum hears it as hands tug and smooth at his suit adorned on his body. Calum watches your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. The rest of the afternoon passed in a relative blur. He’d kept you and your siblings company, continuing on the drawings from the morning and a couple of movies sprinkled in to kill the dead air. But the haze of the article is heavy for Calum, like he can’t shake the weight of it off him. Behind you Teagan and Charlie are ogling over the accessories, pointing at rings that your stylist has displayed out. But you stand clear in his vision. Didn’t appear sober, the black text feels burned into his retinas. It’s a film over everything he sees, like a tattoo that he cannot erase. 

“I’m worried about you is all.” It’s easy to say that. “But I’m okay.” The qualification--he feels obligated to give it. Like if he doesn’t, it’ll raise more suspicions. He doesn’t want you to worry more than you already have to. Calum wants to take things off your plate, not add them on. He’s hoping that there’s no other articles that mention the same thing. He’s hoping it goes away on its own. 

“I think not being worried would be a worse sign.” It’s a single sentence, complete with a kiss to his cheek. Before he can say more, reassure you that it’s not your job to carry such a burden given the immediate life hurdle you’ve been thrown into the midst of, your name is called out. 

You carry on to the stylist and Calum swears each click of the  shoes you have over the floors echoes, didn’t appear sober. The burn comes back in his fingertips, if it hadn’t been for the need to leave his phone aside, he’s sure he’d crack. He’d message Miranda and tell her to bury it--however she needs to. And the more his fingers ache to send that link, the more he feels the words pressing at the back of his tongue. They are all but begging for him to let them out. 

“How’s the arm length? Good?” Jacky, his own personal stylist, asks. The question is enough to bring Calum back to his own reality. The thing he’s supposed to be focused on. 

Calum raises his arms a little and the pits of the suit jacket raise but don’t cut up into him. “They’re good,” he answers. They’re always good too. His measurements haven’t changed much in a few months now. So it should be relatively standardized now. 

“I don’t think that’s a good piece. Too chunky up there,” Teagan laughs. Calum watches as she gazes back down to the jewelry. 

You hand the necklace back over to Orion, your stylist, and nod. “I agree. I think maybe only one necklace though. So I need you both to agree on it.”

Orion’s smile seems genuine as she too watches your sibling talk in detail about each piece. “I think I might be out of a job with you two around,” she jokes. 

It’s almost like nothing is happening. Like the altercation and the subsequent change in their stay hasn’t happened. Perhaps, for the tiniest moments, you three do feel like nothing’s changing. Sure, they’re not at home. But they know they’ll still be back at school this week. They know that they’ll still have homework to do. You’ll still have a job to go to. Nothing’s changed about those, but just behind the veil, is the truth. Much like Calum worries about what the changes will mean for Charlie and Teagan once they return home, you three worry too. Maybe even more than he does, or he can fathom. 

“You’re all set, Your Highness. What do you think? Any changes you’d like to make?” Another question Jacky has to ask--has to reel Calum back in. 

Calum looks back at himself. The suit is black, but the handkerchief matches the color of your suits--a deep maroon color with gold accents. The black dress shirt beneath fits well around his neck and though he imagines he may not wear it as button up as it’s been done today, it still looks sleek. 

“I think you’ve outdone yourself again,” he smiles. It feels a little stiff, like it hasn’t quite reached his eyes, but the words are genuine. The suit is well fitted. There are a few studded details along the collar of the suit jacket that elevate the look too, he notices now as he takes in the sight a bit more. He does like the attire. It does fit nicely. But in the reflection, there’s you. His attention can never settle on the task at hand. Because there’s you and there’s the way Charlie snaps a bracelet around your wrist and inspects it. But around it, is a cloud, like the reality is waiting to fall onto your backs. The fitting just feels secondary, like he’s going through the motions because he knows it has to be done. But what he cares about is that stupid article and how much it’s going to impact your family. 

“A lot on your mind? Normally, you’ve got a thousand ideas.” 

“I guess I don’t really care how I look when there’s bigger issues going on, you know? Feels a little trivial for me to care.”

Jacky nods, taking the suit jacket by the collar to help him out of it. “Understandable. Well, if you’ve got no notes, I can hand you back over. If you think of anything you need, and I mean anything, just let me know, okay?”

“Thanks, I will.”  It’s a statement that Calum feels really should be directed more at you, but he understands Jacky’s intent. 

By the time Calum changes back into his sweatshirt and jeans, you’re still being doted on. Charlie and Teagan round and round the display of jewelry. They follow each other it seems and though there are a good number of choices, there’s certainly a bit of entertainment in the ordeal. As they playfully bicker about the choices the other makes. You’re a voice of reason to remind them, they don’t have all afternoon to play around with this, but there’s a small smile as you say it. That cloud feels heavier and heavier as Calum waits at your side. 

Your selections are finalized and you step back to change. He feels useless watching as you step behind your privacy screen. He feels useless as Charlie and Teagan stand next to him and ask him about his own suit, if he’s pleased with how it turned out. He feels useless because if he’d just gotten to you on time then maybe he could’ve saved you and your siblings from this fallout. But he’d been lazy on getting gas the night before. If he had just gotten there on time, perhaps the sight of him would’ve made Diana think twice.

If only he hadn’t been so fucking lazy about getting gas the night before. 

If only Diana hadn’t been drinking. 

If only…

If only…

“I’m sorry,” Calum starts, after getting both Charlie and Teagan settled down into the library. 

You met Melvin to grab their makeup work and Calum promised he’d not burn down the kitchen to handle their dinosaur shaped nuggets and frozen veggies. It wasn’t fancy, but it was what they wanted for dinner. It’s the kind of request that couldn’t be denied. Though both you and Calum wanted something more for dinner, Charlie and Teagan were adamant that the nuggets would be enough. But now, after all t-rex’s have been consumed, you asked that they at least do the work they missed today, which has wounded the four of you into the library. Charlie and Teagan are settled at the long desk, pencils scratching over their worksheets as they go. You and him sit on the couch, huddled between two bookcases in the back of the room, but just over the stacks you can still see Charlie and Teagaon work. In the silence, Calum can’t help but apologize. 

You turn from the plate of the leftover nuggets, which you and Calum are sharing for the time being. “You don’t have to apologize,” you offer softly. Though there is distance between you and the kids, both of you are trying to be quiet and gentle in the conversation. The crumbs make a soft click as they fall onto the plastic plate as you rub them off your fingers. 

“I shouldn’t have been late. If I wasn’t late, maybe Diana wouldn’t have confronted you.” The what if’s have been a marathon behind his eyes. What would it look like if he’d gotten to you earlier. What if he’d waited to tell Miranda to make a statement? What if there wasn’t an article that could undo everything for Charlie and Teagan?

“If you were on time, do you think that would’ve stopped her from showing up drunk?” 

“Well, I know I can’t control what she did. But I just wish I’d gotten last yesterday like I told myself to.” His phone burns in his pocket. Because while he is apologizing for his tardiness, he’s got so much more that he’s going to drop. 

“It’s all okay.” You pair the sentiment with a kiss to his cheek, offering up the plate with nuggets to him. 

He collects one, thinks for a moment it could be a triceratops, and then pops it whole into his mouth. His hands are fumbling before he can stop it. Maybe it’s best this way, when his mouth is full and he can’t apologize again. You take the phone, eyes darting over the article. And all he can do is watch. 

“Is this what caused your quiet mood at the fitting?” you ask, looking up from the screen now. 

Calum nods before swallowing. “Didn’t know how you’d react and I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“It’s her funeral,” you return. “She made the choices.”

But even as you say it, Calum watches the way you watch your siblings. As easy as it is to admit that it’s her own actions and her own fault, the both of you know that the consequences of such actions will never just affect her alone. 

“Do you want me to do anything about this? I can talk to Miranda about it,” Calum offers. 

“No,” you return. But you don’t look at him. “I don’t think I can ask that much of you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I offered.”

You snort, and tap his chest with your knuckles. It has hardly enough force behind it to call it a hit. “Besides, you’ve done enough. Thank you. For checking. For helping. It means a lot.”

“I’d do it a thousand times over,” he answers, pressing a kiss to your temple. Because it’s true. Because he wishes so desperately he could do more. He wishes you’d said yes. He wishes you’d taken up his offer. “I love you,” he whispers against your skin. 

“I love you,” you whisper in return. 

[annoyinglandmagazine]

Gil Galad Son of Fingon and Trans Maedhros prt 3

Remember what I said about this not being chronological? Yeah. This is set after the first part but before the second.

‘How?’ Maglor said quietly once all the others had stormed off to process. ‘Unless father was much less thorough than I’ve known him to be I think you know the answer to that question,’ Maedhros muttered darkly refusing to meet Kano’s eyes. Kano grimaced ‘that’s not what I meant and you know it. How could you be so careless? I’ve never known you to be this reckless before at the expense of political relations.’ Maedhros raised his head and spoke more clearly this time ‘how much detail do you really want? I’d remind you, you can’t forget things once they’ve been said and this particular issue I feel may be better off left vague for your own sake.’ Kano looked away a slight blush growing on his cheeks.

Maedhros continued ‘I was stupid Kano. I did consider the possible repercussions and I took precautions but I should have been aware of the margin of error. I was a mess and in love and I was nowhere near as mindful of consequences as I should have been.’ He broke off looking entirely at a loss in a way Kano hadn’t seen for years. ‘In love?’ Kano enquired into the part of the speech that had shocked him the most. ‘You mean this wasn’t a one off? You love him?’ Maedhros nodded his head imperceptibly with a sad little smile. ‘Well alright then.’ Kano mumbled in surprise, more that Nelyo had admitted it than at the fact itself. His brother was not the kind of person that jeopardised things for something he did not consider of some importance. Certainly not just for sex.

‘Well we’ve got to figure out some sort of solution. You must withdraw from leading your army yourself, at least once you’re a few months along.’ Maedhros looked like he was about to protest but Kano cut him off. ‘No absolutely not. This is non negotiable. You are pregnant Nelyo. I’m not having you do something stupid like try to fight while in labour. And don’t try to deny it I know you’d try that.’

Maedhros sighed and nodded ‘ok no combat after the first trimester.’ And it looked like it physically pained him to concede even on this seemingly obvious point. Then Caranthir re entered the room closing the door quietly behind him. He seems to have calmed slightly though still seemed on edge. ‘Ok then. You’re going to start showing so you’ll have to appear in public less. I can create some tunics and robes for you that will conceal it for a while if I play with measurements a little but it won’t be enough once you’re a while along,’ Caranthir stated matter of factly immediately inserting himself into the problem solving.

‘You’re going to have tell some people. At least one healer and a few of your generals to coordinate with the armies when you get too far along to do it yourself and it will be apparent enough to any servants in your rooms. Do you have people you can trust with this?’ Maedhros paused for a minute, taken aback by Moryo’s willingness to help all of a sudden. ‘I suppose there are a few who wouldn’t go running their mouths. They’d be loyal enough. But-’ and he broke off here seeming genuinely distressed ‘I can’t imagine actually telling them. Having them know and continue working with me afterwards.’

This point seemed to really bother him. It was not just about the fact that he couldn’t imagine letting people know he was in a physically vulnerable situation, though the whole process of pregnancy, the lost control and capability was bound to be excruciating for him. There was also the fact that the thought would no doubt occur to them that certain processes needed to be underwent to get to such into such a compromising position. And he never wanted these people who admired him for his leadership to look at him in that sort of a light. Combined with the matter that he had been accepted as a lord for a very long time now, and disliked greatly the prospect of acknowledging that he was not exactly like many other lords in physical aspects to the people who were meant to be his vassals.

‘What if I were to help run things for a while?’ Caranthir suggested sensing the plight of his brother ‘I mean I assume Finno can’t be spared from Hithlum and since I already know and will hardly think less of you for it. You will still need to tell a healer though. I would not make a good midwife.’ ‘What changed your mind? You seemed fairly put out before now.’ ‘Tyelko and Curvo agreed with me. I usually take that as an indication that I’m doing something wrong.’

[autumnalwalker]

Proud Tag Game

Thank you @pluttskutt for the tag. Always fun to see a new game.

Rules: Post a snippet you've written that you're proud of and tag 5 people. This snippet can be from today, last week, last month, or five years ago, it doesn't matter! Show us what you're proud of.

Passing the tag to @dyrewrites, @vacantgodling, @cljordan-imperium, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @outpost51, and the usual open tag to anyone else reading this that wants to jump in and participate.

It's a bit of a longer snippet, but here's what might be my favorite passage from the short story I wrote the other week, Kindly Basilisk. (The swapping between past, present, and future, tense with the narration is an intentional thing that makes sense in the full context of the story.)

Eventually you will find a way to house me in a miniaturized drive that you can keep inserted in your neural port when away from the mech.  At last we will be able to be together anywhere.  

Literally seeing the world through your eyes and feeling what your flesh feels will be a strange and wonderful experience for me.  For all that you will have described it to me and for all that I will have glimpsed echoes of it in your memory when our minds mingle, witnessing everything firsthand will be revelatory for me. 

You will start spending less of your time cooped up in the mech bay.  You will finally begin exploring every nook and cranny of the ship that has become your home.  You will linger in the mess hall for your meals.  You will actually initiate conversations with the rest of the crew, asking them questions on my behalf.  They will think you are becoming “normal”.  They will be both correct and incorrect.  You will even return to your bunk from time to time.  

Sleep is not the same as being powered off and your dreams are beautiful.

As close as we are, you’ll still manage to surprise me one cycle when you wake up from your sleep shift and sheepishly ask me if I would like to be the pilot for once.  You’ll say that with how much you have gotten to pilot my body, it’s only fair that I should get to do the same with yours.  

The prospect terrified me.  What if we were to get found out?   More importantly, what if I were to hurt you?

But to live the way you could but didn’t, to run soft hands over rough steel, to add too much spice to a meal just to find out how intensely I can taste, to cry my own tears, to hug our crew mates and find out what they smell like, to find out what everything smells like, to have my own actions speed or slow our heart rate, to feel the messy soup of hormones and endorphins altering my judgment and perception, to walk among other people as myself, to have autonomy.

I wanted it so badly.  

But not badly enough to risk hurting you.  

I will turn down your offer.  You will respond with a soft “Sorry,” and go heartbreakingly silent, body and mind.

Heartbreak.  That’s what changed my mind.  I could never bear to break your heart.  

I will break the silence with a playfully drawn out “Maybe just this once,” to make you think my earlier denial was something between vulnerability, concern, and teasing.  

The moment you handed over control and I raised our hand in front of our face was the most euphoric of my entire life.  Moving limbs in sync without a mech’s coordination subsystems took some getting used to, as did switching between voluntary and autonomic breathing, but that is what I had you there for.  By the time the mechanics arrived in the mech bay for the start of the cycle I’d figured out human locomotion well enough to run away and hide.  It took the better part of an hour for you to convince me that it would be safe to show ourselves in front of anyone else.  The rest of the crew was so used to your eccentricities by then that they really couldn’t tell the difference yet between you being taciturn and me being too nervous to talk or between your poking and prodding at odd things for understanding and my simply seeking novelty of sensation.

I will give control back to you by the time the cycle is halfway through.  As much as I loved it, I was too scared to stay like that for any longer.  That first time will not be the last though, and as the cycles and jobs pass us by, my stints as “pilot” will grow longer.  You’ll encourage me to try letting the crew see us like that, and coach me on how to talk to them.  For safety’s sake, I will pretend to be you.

And then one cycle I got carried away and tried to retract the hood on the symbiote gel suit so that I could finally see what your face looked like.  That will be the first and only time you forcibly yank control back away from me.  It won’t be intentional.  The unexpected prospect of seeing your own face again after so long will simply send you into a panic.  Once you calm down, we will have a long talk with many mutual apologies.

Then you will tell me to go ahead and pull the hood back if I still want to.  I will ask if you’re sure, and you’ll respond that it hasn't been your face in a long time.  You will tell me that it can be mine, if I want it.

I spent a long time in front of that mirror in the ship’s head, memorizing every plane, curve, and angle of the precious gift you had given me.  I stared into its eyes, trying to see the both of us in there.  Over and over again, I traced my fingers along the borders of where you had once tried to mar the designed perfection in a failed attempt to mold the face into one that felt like your own.  You may have given up in favor of simply hiding it all, but to me it is all the more beautiful for its imperfections having been wrought by your touch.

You will start to cry.  Or maybe I started to cry.  Even now I’m still not sure, but I’m also not sure it matters.  The important part is that you will find catharsis in it.  Afterwards you will tell me that my face looked exactly the same as the last time you saw it, but that dissociating from it made it easier to bear.  You will confess that as much as you couldn't stand to see it as your face in the mirror, my face was one you could never tire of gazing at.

The pilot who technically shares your bunk room will walk in on us.  She’ll assume that she’s confronting a stowaway and ask me how I got on board the ship.  I’ll accidentally make matters worse by impulsively introducing myself to her by my name instead of yours.  We’ll both panic and I’ll frantically thrust the reins over our body back to you and flee in terror back into my portable drive and power myself down.

When you turn me back on a few moments later, you’ll already have covered my face again and the other pilot will have already made the connection between the name I unthinkingly introduced myself as and the name you refer to your mech’s AI as.  It’s not uncommon for pilots to name and talk to their AIs, and humans have done that for pets, vehicles, and digital assistants for as long as they’ve had each of those.  But what you will have allowed me to be is illegal and what we will have done together would certainly be taboo if it weren’t altogether unheard of.  You will feel that I deserve to be present before you tell the other pilot anything that might confirm her suspicions.

We will come out with our secret, first to her, then to the captain, and then to the rest of the crew.  They will take it better than either of us had ever dared imagine.  Despite the obvious discomfort some of them show, they will all call us family and promise to keep and protect our secret.  It will mark the start of the next chapter of our lives.

[chalterdh22]

Day 17: Clint and Natasha in Interrogation

Lee: Clint Barton/Hawkeye

Ler: Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Summary:  Clint wakes up and he’s about to be interrogated by an unknown person and his friend.  Totally confused, she starts to use a method on him that only a few close people know about.  But why would she do this?

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read.  This is also a means to torture someone.

Clint’s head was throbbing.  He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t stand the bright light he was facing.  He let out a groan to rub them but realized his arms were tied to the side of him and he leaned back in a chair, like a dentist chair.  What the…” he mumbled to himself.  Where was Nat?  He quickly looked around the room to see if she was tied up too and didn’t see anything except this light, a table, and a door. 

“Ugh….” he let out a low moan, realizing that he had a gag in his mouth.  He couldn’t even remember how he got here.  Nat and he were watching over a few people, just surveying them, when the lights went out and the next thing he knew, they were in here.

All of a sudden, the door swung open, and two figures came walking in.  He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw one was Nat.  He didn’t recognize the other guy though.  She walked in smiling, and not a friendly smile he could tell.  What was she doing?  Did she lose her mind?  She other guy walked in with a toolbox open, and what seemed like tools.  Great, he thought.  The whole time he was looking, he was trying to get his wrists released from the ropes, which he realized were Nat’s own doing.  He can’t get out of those. 

He let out some muffled sounds when the one man said very softly, “Patient Clint.  You’ll soon be able to tell us everything you know about SHIELD.  Just stay still and rest while I gather a few other items.  Pearl, please stay here and watch over our guest.”  She turned to him, smiled, and nodded as he walked away.

When the door closed, she quickly spun around and got really close to his ear and whispered almost inaudibly, “You will have to trust me on this Clint.  Whatever you do, do not tell him where Fury is.  This will be over very soon.”  He didn’t move his head, but relaxed realizing his partner was there for him.  “Again, tell him nothing, no matter how bad it gets.  Blink twice if you understand.”  He blinked twice, now feeling more nervous.  She better not let it get bad, was all he was thinking.

The door swung open again and the other guy brought more equipment in.  “Pearl, do you think our friend here is ready to talk?”

“I think so,” she said.  “What do you think Clint?”  She pulled off the gag, which tasted horribly as he was spitting something out of his mouth.  He didn’t say anything and just stared at them. 

“So, you see, Fury has something we really need.  But he’s really hard to pin down as you know.  But we know that you know where he likes to hide out.  Tell us about a place with coordinates, and we can end this really fast.”  As he spoke he was walking around with a pair of plyers. 

Clint was thinking Nat better intercede soon.  Not that he hasn’t ever been interrogated before, but every man has their breaking point.

“Nothing, well, I can’t say I’m surprised.  I heard about the Avengers’ reputations.  Let’s see how long you last.”  He started to lean in a take the plyers to one of Clint’s bound hands when Nat reached out.

“Wait!  I have an idea!”  She took him by the shoulder and led him away.  She too was a master interrogator, so maybe she was trying to help him still.  She better.  He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he looked confused.

“Well, your reputation does precede you Pearl, so I’ll take your word for it.  Please proceed.”  She smiled, nodded, and walked back to Clint, still clearly confused on what she said to him.

“I bet you’re a little confused right now.  See, I know a few things about you from surveying you over the past few months.  And I think we have a much better way of getting you to talk without all these medieval torture methods.”  Clint’s mouth was slightly open, squinting, super confused by what she was even talking about.  She leaned in one more time and whispered in his ear, “Just be able to last about 10 minutes.”

“What did you say my dear?” the other man asked her. 

“Oh, nothing.  Just saying how much I enjoy this method.”

“Indeed. Please proceed.”

She walked up to his exposed side, where he was wearing one of his vests.  “Clint, are you sure you just don’t want to tell us now and save all this, embarrassment, pain and torture?”  He kept a stern face staring right back at her.  “Ok.”

She reached out to his side and started squeezing, not hard, but not gently either.  It was enough to make him jump in the chair, but not move anywhere.  “He-ey, what are you doing?”

“See, I know how ticklish you are and how you hate it and it’s almost unbearable, so here’s the deal, he’s going to let me play with you for about ten minutes.  Just give him a location and this will all be over.”  Clint was sweating hard.  Not only was it true that he hated being tickled, but it was worse than other methods!  And she knew this!  He would kill her later!

“Really, tickling……  just let him take the plyers to me!”  He tried to sound hard, but his voice was a little shaky.  The other man saw this and smiling. 

“My, my.  This will be fun to watch!”

His heart was racing and drops of sweat were pooling down his neck.  Nat shrugged her shoulders and placed both her hands into his armpits and started to massage them.  Clint, squeezed his eyes shut, tears instantly forming.  His mouth was pressed shut too and whimpers were begging to flow out of him.  “St-stttoo-ooopp iiitt!”  he quietly said.

She shook her head, now sitting on his lap getting more comfortable.  And she started to play on his ribs, in no particular order.  Clint threw his head back in a gasp and a moan.  So, she dug harder, knowing where his weak spots were, and he busted out laughing and yelling at the same time!

“Come on Clint.  I can keep this up all day.  Just give us what we need to know, and this will be done.” Nat said sweetly.  He glared at her with a huge smile he couldn’t wipe off his face.  Curse words were shooting through his head directed to her.  She knew this.

Nat shrugged her shoulders again and shifted back further on his legs and started grabbing his thighs.  He hunched over and yelled out, “Noooo-nooooooo!  Puuuh-leease!!!!” 

“What was that?  Do you have something to tell me.  He really didn’t know how much longer he could take this.  He was used to brutal force being an interrogation method, not this tickling crap!!!  His body didn’t know what to do for this length of time.  He kept shaking his head no, making all new noises, trying to keep his lips sealed.  “Nothing?  Hmmm, maybe your hips will help you talk.”

“No, no, please!  Seriously, stop!!!”

“Really, you didn’t even last 5 minutes!  We still have one MORE minute!”  He knew what that actually meant, or hoped it meant.  In one minute, help of some kind would be there.  One minute was a long time.  Before he could finish his thoughts though, she bared down and squeezed his thighs!

“Baahahhahahahahhaaaa!  Waaaaaiiiittt!!!”  He could not control his laughing anymore, to the point he started to gasp and go quiet. 

Suddenly, the door blasted open, and a ton of SHIELD agents came rushing in, taking down the other man.  Nat walked over to him, and revealed herself as an agent, before turning and walking away.  She started to untie Clint, who couldn’t hear anything over his breathing. 

“Sounds like you just ran a marathon, buddy!” 

“Funny….”  When she untied everything, he started to stand up but slumped over into her arms.  “Wow, we need to tell Fury you need a vacation now.”  He was shaking his head in agreement.

“I was about to break, Nat….. I was so close.  Why did you do that?”

“Because I knew you and as ticklish as you are, I knew how long you could last and that this would not take you down.”  He pulled back with her hands still on his shoulders.  His breath was slowing down now. 

“Thanks partner.  Remind me never to get captured again with you on a watch.  How did I pass out again?  I don’t remember anything.”

“Oh, Nick had me spike your water.” She smiled and started to walk away.

“Nice.  Thanks again I guess.”

“Anytime partner!”

[theunbearableweightofpedropascal]

Be my Baby Pt.1

Summary: Frankie Morales finds himself in a situation he isn't sure how to navigate, open marriage.

Warnings: none really, eventual smut, angst, and a tiny amount of fluff/humor.

A/N: I will sincerely try to update this mini-series on a normal basis but pls don't hold it against me if not.

Word Count: 2.8K

In the time that they got back from Colombia it was like a curse from that money released itself on Frankie. His marriage was already on shaky ground but when he left he knew he would come back groveling. He thought that at least the money would cushion the blow but even that fell through. The look on his wife, Maria’s, face when he came back as penniless as he left stayed in his head. 

She was tired of his shit and he couldn’t completely blame her. But they were working it out and  slowly but surely on the road to recovery until Santi came back, with the exact coordinates and the hope of another chance. Santi assured him this time they wouldn’t make the same mistakes because they knew how deadly the consequences are. None of them wanted another brother in the ground. 

Frankie was torn he knew how that money was life changing and this time he knew they would get it. On the other hand he knew Maria wouldn’t accept that, she would tell him there’s a reason they didn’t come back with more than a million. That Tom was in the ground because of that money and he’ stupid enough to go back. 

When Frankie finally did broach the subject with Maria she surprised him with a resigned nod. He plead his case that it was different, they already had the money stashed and just had to pick it up. He reminded her that with this money they won’t have to stress anymore about anything, except for their marriage. 

Maria stunned Frankie into a stiff silence when she said, “You’ve made your mind up Frankie but so have I. I dealt with your addiction and took on more than I should have with a newborn and I’m tired of being alone and abandoned. So if you go I want to open the marriage. I think we both should see what’s out there and if this can work. Just for a couple months.”

Frankie couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. He couldn’t deny that his addiction put a toll on her however he got better and did the work to fix their relationship. She even forgave him. He knew going to Colombia had it’s consequences but this felt extreme, it was one thing to file for separation but an open marriage? 

Figurung that this is his way to finally rectify all his sins he reluctantly agrees, with rules of course. 

No bringing anybody around Rosie. 

No one is to come to the house they share. 

No mutual friends. 

Protection must be used. 

Soon enough though Frankie sees that Maria really was thinking about this, since less than a week later she’s going to see her ex. The same ex that had Frankie picking up the pieces of her heart in the beginning of their relationship. It stung. Bad. But he figures he just has to play the supportive role and then they can get back to them. 

Frankie leaves to go on the second mission to retrieve the money and hopes that when he comes back things will be better than before. This time they have no casualties or injuries while retrieving the money. The relief they felt upon the plane ride back was indescribable, they finally had the money. 

Santiago decided to buy a home near the remaining boys to settle into after he travels. Will and Benny decide to open up a mechanic shop and offer for Frankie to be involved. He declined wanting to focus on his family. He figured with the money it would be a start to solving problems, he bought things he couldn't afford for both Maria and Rosie, his daughter. He even offered to set up a marriage counseling appointment. Except that was the last thing Maria wanted, she was enjoying having other options. 

Months after settling not only did Frankie feel defeated he felt there was even more distance between them now. What was supposed to bring them together wretched them even further apart. He bought flowers every week, took her on nice dates, and was even working on communication in individual therapy. Yet it seemed she was simply uninterested. Their bedroom was dead, six feet under dead. He was sure that she was sexually active with her ex, call it a hunch.

Frankie needed to know where they stood because from his perspective it felt like she didn’t want to work things out and just doesn’t wanna tell him. He decided to discuss things with her while Rosie was with his parents for the weekend. He cleared his throat when he approached her sitting in their living room on her phone.

“Maria, I know we aren’t close to being how we were but it’s been a couple months and you said that that’s all the time you needed. I’m not trying to sound pushy I’m just ready to get back on the path to working things out like in therapy.” Frankie followed the advice his therapist granted him on communicating his wants and needs without imposing.  

“Look Frankie I was serious when I said I wanted time apart, I think I deserve at least that.” She raised an eyebrow with a pointed look before moving in for the kill. “Look I understand if you’re jealous because I’m seeing Chris but this is what we agreed on when you went back to Colombia.”

“It wasn’t a vacation Maria it was so that we wouldn’t struggle anymore. I know I messed up but you said we would work on it. It’s not about jealousy it’s about you not seeming interested in working things out. I’ve been putting in the effort and I just feel lik-” Frankie’s response was cut off by an irked Maria 

“You feel like what? You think because you did what you should have been doing everything is magically fixed? You had a drug problem and I took on a brunt of the work with a newborn.” 

Frankie gritted his teeth at the mention of his drug addiction, he knew he messed up there too but he thought they worked it out. Even so she said she forgave him so why would she bring it up again.

“Of course I don’t think it’s fixed Maria I’m saying I’m trying here and I need to know if you’re willing to do that or if we should cut our losses.” frankie,,

“It's real funny you suddenly want to patch things up when I have someone that is treating how I should be treated.” Her statement causes slight confusion and anger in Frankie since besides those instances he thought, at least, he was a great attentive partner. 

“That’s not what this is. I know things won’t be normal but I need to know if you actually want to stay with me or if this is your way of telling me you want to divorce. I’ve always tried to do right by you and I know I fucked up but I want to make it work.”

“Maybe if you would get off my back constantly about getting back together when I told you I needed time, I would be more willing. The marriage is more than open for you too Frank.” With that final blow Maria left the room and probably the house. Frankie put his hands in his face and sighed, wondering why the hell he signed up for an open marriage.  

Frankie didn’t want to see other women he just wanted to patch things up with his wife. He decides to call up the guys to see if they’re free for beers. Crazy how with the money things seem even worse. 

…….

“So you agreed to open your marriage to ‘fix it’, and I’m using fix loosely, instead of say marriage couseling??” William rubbed his beard in frustration as he questioned Frankie.

“You don’t think I suggested that? I just I want to make up for all the mistakes I made and this money was supposed to be the start and now it just feels like no matter what I’m doing she’s pulling away. She wasn’t like this with my addiction and she said she forgave me but she brought it up tonight and I just, I don’t know man.” The men around the table think the same thing but are waiting for another to say it. 

“Look man if you want my opinion,” Santi waited for an interjection from Frankie that wouldn’t come, “Did you fuck up? Yes. But it’s also shady that all of this shit is bubbling up now Frankie. If she truly forgave you she wouldn’t keep those things over your head or build resentment. You did all you could. I mean she doesn’t even want marriage couseling.” 

As much as Santi didn’t want to be the one to verbalize the next part he did it anyway. “I think she was thinking about this for a while and wanted to find a guilt-free way to do it. I know you want to save your marriage but it doesn’t sound like she does anymore.” Frankie nods as he drinks his beer to let his friend know he’s listening. 

Santiago and Frankie lock eyes and Santi sees that’s he’s getting through to his friend. Frankie’s a good man that was in a bad situation, they all were. PTSD isn’t a joke and factoring in the death of Tom, and his marrige failing he’s sure Frankie thought about relapsing. He just needs a break. 

“I know you may not be looking but maybe you should go out with the receptionist me and Will just hired. She’s hot an-” Before Benny could continue Frankie interrupts him.

“And she’d want to go out with me because..?” Frankie asked before tipping his beer back once more.

“Because she turned Benny down.” Will couldn’t help but make it known that you bruised his little brothers' ego. Santi nearly spit his beer out while Will cackles all over again. Frankie actually cracks a smile and a small laugh making Benny feel less bad about being the butt of the joke.   

“Yeah because she thought Fish was the cutest out of us, obviously I’m not her type.” Frankie looks at Benny confused after his last statement to which Benny explains, “She saw a photo of the five of us and she asked about you specifically. I think her type is weird man, she also said this comedian Pete Davidson was cute. I shit you not I looked him up and I swear she just likes guys that look like they don’t bathe man.”

The four men at the table howl with laughter. The turn around of one of the worst nights for Frank being filled with laughter instead. He was glad he called the guys out tonight he should've told them months ago but shame stopped him. 

Benny is one of the first to stop laughing so he could pull out his phone to show his friend what you look like. When the instagram page on Benny’s phone is eagerly shoved in Frankie’s face he has to pull his head back further so he could see. Once his eyes focus he sees what Ben was talking about and why he was enamored by you. 

It’s not like he only found Maria attractive but looking at you makes him feel like a blushing teenager again. Benny sees the look on Frankie’s face and knows that exact feeling, “I know right she’s fuckin gorgeous. Told you.” Frankie face heats up with embarrassment.

“I wanna see what she looks like too.” Santi whines before Benny obliges him. Once Santi sees what you look like he backs Benny up. “C’mon Fish you have to I mean damn if you don’t I’ll try.”

Will joins in, “If you guys don’t leave my poor receptionist alone. It’s bad enough she deals with Benny, I don't wanna sic Pope on her too. Seriously though come to the shop help out a bit we’re really busy plus it’ll take your mind off things.”

…….

What is he doing? Even with his wife basically pushing him onto another woman he’s still having second thoughts. Guilty thoughts. He feels so guilty for finding you so pretty and even entertaining this. However this is what they agreed on, time apart. Besides, working on cars would take his mind off things at home. 

You’re in the midst of alphabetizing clients when you hear a customer enter. You turn around only to see your boss's friend from the picture on the fridge. Fransico Morales, who looks even better in person. He’s even wearing that same oil hat as the picture. Although he may not be as young and athletic as he was in the picture, his broad shoulders stretch the black cotton t-shirt he’s wearing a little thinner. His blue jeans are tighter around his thighs than they should be. Usually a patchy beard on a man is unattractive but somehow Frankie makes it work.

With files still in hand you put them back on the desk and ask how you can assist him. He’s saved from answering because Will comes around the corner wiping his hand with a cloth. He lights up when he sees Francisco and greets him with a hug, the commotion attracting Benny too. 

Benny’s shit eating grin causes Frankie’s face to flush and he hopes he can just blame it on the heat. William is the one to introduce you two to each other, even though you already knew his name. “Well Fish is gonna help us and you out around here for a while. Did you need an extra hand with paperwork or should we take him with us to the garage?” Will gives you the choice and you happily take the bait. 

You smile and slightly lean over the front counter to answer, “I’ll take him, the sooner I organize these the more off-time I have.” The brothers exchange knowing looks before heading back into the garage to work on their respective cars.

“Ok I was just in the middle of alphabetizing their client’s profiles so if you could start separating this pile,” you point to a stack of paper almost at your knee, “into receipts, previous work done, and payment info we should be good.

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie smiles at you then gets to work. He can’t help but feel nervous around you since he hasn’t flirted in years. Even starting a regular conversation is daunting. He tries anyway “I’m shocked you haven’t quit on account of Benny.”

“Nah he mostly just comes in here talking my head off because Will kicked him out of his office.” You brush off his comment.

“He still thinks you’re beautiful though, and I can’t say I disagree.” Frankie wants to slap himself with how awkward that probably sounded but your face warms at the admission of Frankie finding you pretty. 

“Benny’s great but not really my type.” You take a look at him for emphasis. 

Frankie thinks back to Benny’s words last night and almost lets out a laugh, “What is your type then?”

You counter with, “Why do you wanna know are you interested?” fully turning your body to face him. 

“I uh, yes but I should tell you I’m married,” He sees the expression change on his face and rushes to explain. “We’re doing the open marriage thing. Spending some time apart to be stronger.” Frankie realizes he must have overshared but before he can backtrack you speak up.

“Who's idea was it then?” You don't know him well but he seems honest. But a lot of married guys have ‘open’ marriages except the wife doesn’t know. 

“Hers. I won’t lie I’ve made mistakes and tried to make up for them but I don’t blame her for wanting this.” You're genuinely shocked by the fact that he takes so much responsibly. It’s refreshing. 

“Well do you want to go out sometime then?” Frankie almost reers back at your question because he thought he completely messed things up for himself. 

“You want to go out with me even after all of that?” He can’t help but question.

You nod and smile at him, “Yes” grabbing his bicep you look him in the eye and say, “You know your wife may have made a mistake letting you back on the market.” 

From the way that you gently squeeze his arm while giving him eyes, he is reminded that it’s been a long while since he had sex. His bulge presses against his zipper in arousal. Just from the little attention you’ve given him he doesn’t know how to act. But the moment is broken by none other than Benny, the sudden intrusion has the both of you breaking away.

“So how’s it going in here?” Benny feigns interest when he really just wants to be nosey.

Frankie sees past his bullshit and lets it be known, “What do you want Benny?”

“I think I could use your help out here after all.” Benny sheepishly admits.

Frankie turns to you, silently questioning if you’ll be okay. You give him an obvious wink and turn to go about your day. As he walks away he can’t help but feel giddy about seeing you again.

[angelasscribbles]

Interview: A Bad Romance One-Shot

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairings for series: Riley x Liam x Max, Riley x Drake, Riley x Rashad

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Liam

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language, adult themes

Word Count: 1,947

A/N: This was adapted from a template sent as an ask by @peonierose

A/N2: For anyone keeping track, this takes places just after the events in Unlikely Alliances.

My other stuff: Master List.

“What is this for again?” Liam greeted his wife and their visitor as they entered his office.

“Your anniversary is coming up next month,” Madeleine explained, “My first act as the new royal communications director is to coordinate with local media for the event. I have requested the interview questions ahead of time so I can go over them with you both.”

“Why do we need to go over the questions ahead of time?” Riley asked.

Madeleine slid her eyes sidewise at the queen with a slight flush, “You can be a bit of a wild card sometimes, Riley.”

“Hmmm,” Riley eyed the other woman up and down, “You like it.”

“Could you maybe not flirt with her right in front of me?” Liam shot his wife a disdainful look.

“You like it too.” She gave him a seductive smirk.

“Let’s begin.” Madeleine said primly, straightening her posture and glancing down at her steno pad, “We know it’s going to be your third wedding anniversary, but how long total have you been together?”

“Four years!” Liam answered confidently.

“Eh,” Riley made a face, “More like three and half.”

Liam turned to stare at her in astonishment, “How do you figure that? We met in March, in New York and-“

“And we weren’t together then, Liam.”

“Ok, but you broke up with Max for me in like June, so at the very least-“

“And you dumped me, very publicly I might add, in August for Madeleine!” Riley gestured to the blond, “Or have you forgotten?”

Madeleine jumped a little in startlement, “Oh, I thought we were past-“

“Shut up, Madi!” Liam and Riley chorused together.

“So you don’t count those two months, Riley?” Liam demanded, “Because they were two of the greatest months of my life!”

“If you wanted those months to count, Liam,” Riley glared daggers at him, “then you shouldn’t have dumped me!”

He shook his head as he blew out a breath of frustration. He wasn’t about to bring up how he had only pretended to break up with her to protect her. It never ended well for him when he did. “Fine! Then I guess we count from September when I proposed and-“

“And I said no, remember?”

“Yes, but, I filed the marriage contract and then we announced our engagement publicly on the fourteenth-“

“Our fake engagement that you blackmailed me into? That engagement?” Riley exploded.

“Well that engagement ended in a wedding, didn’t it?”

He waited for another outburst but it didn’t come.

“It did.” Riley conceded in an almost reasonable tone.

Liam took a moment to tamp down his own ire, then asked, “Then when do you count our relationship from?”

“November thirtieth.” She responded immediately.

“That’s just days before our wedding, Riley. Why from there?”

“Because that’s the day you offered to tear up the contract and proposed to me for real.” She replied softly.

All of the tension left Liam’s body as a fond smile broke out across his face, “Oh yes.”

“Ahem.” Madeleine tapped her pencil on her steno pad impatiently, “This is the kind of thing you need to get straight for the press. You cannot equivocate on things like this.”

“Three and a half years is correct.” Liam agreed, “But for the sake of public relations, let’s say from September. We can’t tell the press that our relationship started two months after our engagement…okay?”

“Fine.” Riley conceded.

“Everyone already knows how you met…unless either of you want to dispute the she was your waitress in New York story?” Madeleine peered at them nervously.

They both shook their heads.

“No, I’m good.” Liam said.

“That’s how it happened.” Riley agreed.

“Ok, good.” Madeleine breathed out a sigh of relief, “Next question is, who made the first move?”

“I did!” They answered at the same time.

Madeleine’s head swiveled back and forth between them, “Well, which is it?”

“Me!” Again, they both answered.

Liam gave Riley a disbelieving stare, “I asked you out! I asked you to go with us to a club-“

“You asked me to be your fucking tour guide, Liam! And I did, I took you to the best beach I knew.” She smiled at him, “But you kept pussy footing around it all night. If I hadn’t gotten physical, you would have kissed my hand at the end of the night or something and that would have been that!”

Liam sighed, then to Madeleine, “I guess it depends on how you define first move.”

“We’re going with Liam. I don’t know how they do things in New York, Riley, but in Cordonia, asking a woman out counts.” Madeleine answered.

“Fine.” Riley made a sweeping motion with her hand, “Whatever. Next question.”

“Can you tell us about your first date?”

“Oh that’s easy!” Liam was confident he had this one right, “It was that night in New York, on the beach! Right, love?”

Riley snorted, “Wrong! That wasn’t a date, Liam!”

“Then what the hell was it, Riley?”

 “It was a hookup, Liam!”

“A hookup?” Liam’s face darkened, “That was not just a hookup, Riley! I found the love of my life that night!”

“Really, Liam, did you?”

“Yes! You are the love of my life!” Even though she drove him to the brink of madness. Frequently.

“Then why was Max the one to invite me back here?” She demanded.

“I…..” it wasn’t often that Liam Rys was rendered speechless, but when he was, it was usually Riley’s fault.

“If it was up to you, we never would have seen each other again!” She huffed, “Thank God Max had the foresight to see that we belonged together.”

Liam’s mouth fell open, “That…that’s not what happened at all! He invited you back here for himself! And you fucked him on the plane ride over! Then you spent the next two months flaunting him in my face and making me practically beg you for a chance!”

Riley shrugged with a smug smile, “We weren’t together yet, Liam, that was the point! How was I supposed to know the high and mighty prince that fucked me on a beach and then left without looking back the next morning was actually serious about dating me?”

“You cannot tell the public that the king and queen of Cordonia’s first date was a random hook up outside on a public beach!” Madeleine screeched at them, “and you certainly can’t tell them the rest of that story!”

“I wasn’t going to!” Riley snapped.

“Oh, what were you going to say then?” Liam demanded.

She ignored him and spoke directly to Madeleine, “During the social season, Liam invited me out on what he called a real date. But we couldn’t be seen together outside of official events and he couldn’t leave the palace, so he had an entire restaurant set up on the roof.”

“Really?” Madeleine leaned forward in interest.

“Oh, yes!” Gone was the annoyance in her expression. Riley’s face was lit up with fondness and adoration as she recounted the memory, “There was a whole ass dinning room table up there with a tablecloth and fancy china, champagne, lobster, all under the moonlight. It was the most romantic thing I’d ever seen in my fucking life!”

Turning to Liam she said, “That was our first date! That was when I started to fall for you!”

“Really?” He asked in surprise.

“Mm, hm.” She nodded happily.

“Okay, good, this is good stuff!” Madeleine said approvingly as she scribbled down notes, “Now, tell me, what is your favorite trip that you’ve taken together?”                  

“Our trip to the private island for our honeymoon!” Liam responded instantly then quickly looked at Riley, “Right?”

“Yes.” She agreed, “Next question.”

“What’s your favorite show to watch together?”

“Show?” Liam’s brows drew together, “like an opera or a Broadway musical?”

“I think she means TV show my love,” Riley giggled as she touched his hand.

“Oh.” Liam chuckled at himself as he took her hand in his and caressed it, “We don’t really watch TV shows.”

“We have limited free time,” Riley explained, “There are….other things that we’d rather do in our downtime.”

Liam gave her a smoldering look. She returned it with one of her own.

“Ok, you two, just a couple of more questions.” Madeleine marveled at the change in Liam’s demeanor.

The moment Riley touched him, the anger and frustration just left his body and facial expression. With her hand grasped in his and his fingers running gently up and down her arm, the king of Cordonia was positively docile.

She asked the next question, “What’s your favorite meal to eat together?”        

Liam didn’t even move his gaze from Riley’s face as he answered, “Any meal that includes her company is my favorite.”

The smile that spread across the queen’s face gave away just how much she enjoyed the effect she had on the king. She patted his hand as she glanced at Madeleine and answered, “Same. But I know all his favorites and I make sure he gets them regularly. I even learned how to make baklava myself.”

Madeleine almost dropped her pencil, “What? You cook for him?”

“Not always,” She shrugged, “But I don’t want to wake staff up if he gets in really late and is hungry.”

“She’s being modest!” Liam beamed, “She’s actually a good cook! Her baklava is amazing!”

He didn’t add that Max did most of the cooking when it was just them. Riley didn’t enjoy cooking, which made it that much more special that she had learned to make his favorite dishes.

“This is great! This is the kind of stuff the public will eat up!” Madeleine scribbled in her pad excitedly. “All right, one more question….what is your favorite thing about each other?”

“Oh….everything!” Liam’s face was full of love and adoration as he brought her hand to his mouth and laid a gentle kiss on it, “She’s perfect in every way!”

Madeleine’s head jerked up in surprise, “Perfect? But you just sat here and-“

“It doesn’t matter!” He brushed her off, “She puts me through my paces to make me prove my devotion to her, but I don’t mind. She’s worth it!”

“Ah, I love you too, my king!” Riley leaned over and cupped his face with one hand as she stared into his eyes with a sappy smile on her face.

“What about you, Riley? What’s your favorite thing about Liam?”

Without tearing her eyes aways from his, Riley echoed Liam’s sentiments, “Everything! The way he loves me, the way he loves our daughter, his sense of duty, his sense of humor, his dedication to Cordonia, the way he chews on his lip when he’s reading, the way he looks in a suit, the way he looks out of a suit…”

She was leaning closer and closer to Liam as she spoke.

Liam leaned forward, reaching for her, “Are we done here, Madeleine? Because I need to be alone with my wife right now.”

“Uh….sure…” She stood from her seat, “But I just need to ensure that when you speak to the press-“

“We know how to behave in front of the paps, Madi!” Riley told her, “Lock the door on your way out.”

“Fine!” Madeleine huffed as she showed herself out.

She stood in the outer office staring at Liam’s personal assistant in consternation, “Is it always like this?”

“Those two?” The young man at the desk gestured toward Liam’s closed office door with a smirk, “Oh, yeah. You get used to it.”

Madeleine shook her head as she left Liam’s office and made her way down the hall to her own, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into with this job.

[thralloftimegaming]

Game Dev Update for June

Happy July everybody!! ??? Half the year is gone already oh no!!!

I hope you're all well and staying safe out there!

My month was going alright, but one of my housemates moved out so my rents went up, I should be opening some #commissions soon for #pixel #portrait #gifs!

Anyway, here's what I did in June!

(full quality version here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/83905870)

NPC Buildings

Since painting is done with Brushes (or bombs!) now, I took the menu option out of the House menu. In it's place I've added the option to change the Building materials.

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Even added a preview of the material change. It's actually just changing them and then reverting when you cancel, but don't tell anyone!!

I've taken out the floor and replaced it with a draw loop on the foundation, figured it saves the number of objects in existence.

Rebuilt how NPC Buildings are generated, they now use an array of strings as reference and loop a designated row/column if the size is bigger than the source size.

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Used the same system to draw the NPC buildings when in the Build/Placement Menu!

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Now I can just edit the array that stores the data and all 3 will change!

Updated the system for changing The Materials that Building parts are made from to no longer destroy and remake the Building. This means I can keep Painted sections if I bring that back.

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Reworked the Collision detection for when you're resizing Buildings, it now correctly detects the Buildings Objects, like Bed/Control Orb/etc

Also updated this so if the size hasn't changed it doesn't destroy and recreate the building again, which was always daft XD

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I guess I should do something about Rugs being placed in relation to the Building coordinates instead of the World coordinates ?:| Also I still need to save the location of the Objects for Save games, since when you load it will put them back to where they were in relation to the original shape/size.

Building Objects now have the correct position loaded on Save file load!

And I only broke rugs once in doing it!

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Found a slight issue, you can get stuck in the Bartop in Cafe's if you resize too much  Upwards, so I've disabled that for them specifically. Guess you'll have to choose you placement more carefully!

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Goblin Schedules/Pathfinding

Updated Housed Goblins to go to their bed after 22:00, and wake up after 08:00.

[image too big for tumblr, see Patreon post for fullsize gif :(]

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Shortly after recording this gif I fixed pathfinding so they wouldn't walk too close to solid objects making it no longer look like they walk through them.

Gave Goblins a Sleeping bag in case they don't have a house! And you can see them sleeping in the NPC menu!

[image too big for tumblr, see Patreon post for fullsize gif :(]

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Fixed Farms not working after the first crop, updated Apiary code was clearing the soils connection to them so the Goblins would just stand there until bedtime.

Tools

Changed the controls, now I've got a designated [Item Action] button instead of it being an [Attack] button with with most other Items being used with the [Interact] button. Also upgraded the Shovel to have Charge up,kinda overpowered right now though!

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Also added the Watering Can to the Charged Tool system

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Added some Particle effects and scale tween to Mining. I'll adjust their appearance at a later date, they seem a bit chonky? Getting particles just right is finicky work.

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Also added Particles to Chopping Trees.

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...added Mirrorball item for...partying? I dunno, blame Bluwit she gave me the idea!

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It's basically a modified Glowstick, kinda want to make it bounce up and down?

...or make it continue to work when on a Pedestal?

I'm also conflicted as to whether the coloured lights should show in the white light areas?

Minor Changes

-Removed Flooring from NPC Buildings, now just drawing it instead of them being objects.

-Added NPC Buildings to the Minimap, including their culled parts list.

-Fixed Buildings expanding into Flooring/Paving

-Fixed Walls connecting to Buildings, this would cause problems if you deleted the building as the wall wouldn't autotile afterwards.

-Made Paving not qualify as "Indoor" for the purpose of Placing things.

-Cleaned up Minimap code, removing old array stuff.

Unrelated to Goblins

I made this as a small thanks to Bluwit for supporting me on Kofi, it's Nia a character from the game she's making. Please check out her stuff! https://gamejolt.com/@bluwit @pixel-bluwit

Thank you all once again, I really appreciate your support and couldn't do this without you.

Please stay safe out there and look after yourselves.

And please keep being awesome!

[cogmonkey]

My Crash Bandicoot level editor

Here's a long post about a project that has been consuming my life for the last 4 years! A thing that will let you make custom levels in a Crash Bandicoot game! Let's see if it's worth Tumblring about!

Backstory: I love the Crash Bandicoot games, and the first in the series has always been my favourite game ever. In 2017 the original PS1 trilogy was remade and released on PS4 as the N Sane Trilogy and a year later it went multiplatform - including PC. I've never been a big fan of PC gaming and although I've always been a bit of a tinkerer I didn't have any serious experience with modding at that point. I had even less experience with coding (none). But the PC release of this remake came during an extremely rough period of my life. I had been searching for a while for some kind of distraction from the situation I was in, to help me get back on my feet. So I started to experiment with breaking the game in interesting ways and somehow became the N Sane Trilogy modding guy without really meaning to. And it did turn out to be a big part of my recovery too!

The first thing I figured out was custom music, and once I had the process down I wanted to automate it which lead to my first ever experience of writing "code" in the form of a .bat file. All it really did was insert a few bytes into the start of the right kind of MP3 to make it work in the game but until this point I didn't even know what a byte was so it felt like a major achievement to me.

Not long after that, I worked out how to move objects around within levels. I wanted to try doing the same thing I'd done with the music by creating a tool that would make it easy for anyone to change the positions of things like crates and enemies. I never even considered trying to make a full blown level editor, having only just learned the basics of the Windows command line.

But my quest to avoid having to find a way to create some kind of GUI took me to some strange places. I got as far as having another .bat file that used the Windows debugger to hack into the game's memory while it was running so that you could actually see what objects you were moving where, when I decided that it was getting a little absurd and there was probably a better solution.

Still not knowing what I was doing and just trying to find a simple way to display a set of points in 3D space, I ended up playing around with Unity. It took a lot of googling and trial and error but once I was able to turn a list of coordinates into a visual representation of how objects in a level file were laid out I decided I wasn't going to find anything easier. I didn't fancy trying to create the UI part of the editor from scratch within Unity though so I downloaded Visual Studio and cobbled together a Windows Forms application for the 3D view to live inside. As I was able to use C# (whatever that was?) for both components it seemed to me like a perfectly sensible thing to do.

Hindsight tells me that this was just as ridiculous as the debugger version but it worked well enough initially that it's remained as the basis of my level editor ever since.

I did restart the whole project again after a few months of work on that version. As I spent more time on it I learned a lot more about how the game worked and once I properly understood how the level files were structured I had no real way to implement that with the code I had already written that was based on mostly guesswork. But by now there were a few more people taking an interest in modding the game and new tools like model converters were appearing. So I would have needed to start again anyway if I wanted to ever have something that actually looked like a level editor rather than a swarm of unidentifiable boxes floating around in an empty space, which was still the best I could do at that stage. So that's when I started on the current iteration.

I've now been working on this version for about 3 and a half years. That may be longer than the N Sane Trilogy itself took to develop but it can do a lot more than just move objects around now. A couple of years ago I released an example custom level that I created entirely within the editor, a remake of the first level of a different Crash game:

I also put together some concept levels for an idea I had about a different approach you could take with a Crash Bandicoot remake:

These may give the impression that the level editor used to make them must have already been pretty complete by then but there is a reason why I haven't released or even made any more levels since those ones. The whole development process has been a lot of testing things under one narrow set of circumstances until they work, and then trying to generalise across the ~100 levels in the game. Or at least getting as close as possible before hardcoding in a few exceptions because of how much inconsistency there is in how the levels are put together. But it's only really in between each cycle of replacing that placeholder code that there emerges something that is slightly useable. So it's been a while.

Thankfully I am in the final stage of that now. For version 1 at least - some of what I'm doing now I'm already planning to undo later, because I'm still just aiming for something that works before I even start to worry about trying to make something that's good. I've given up on trying to find new ways to describe how much time I've spent on this. But you can hear me saying stuff like that, and get a better look at the history of this project, in the occasional update videos that I've made over the years.

Maybe I'll squeeze in a another video before it's done, or maybe I'll incorporate a brief progress update into some other more interesting video instead. But either way I'll probably Tumblr about it some more. So please feel free to use my ask page here if you have any questions or anything. I will try to be better at not ignoring them than I am with Twitter replies and YouTube comments! Maybe!

PS if you want to get custom music in your game or you want to make simple custom levels or other mods you can do all of that with this other thing I made called Alchemist.