#just a flu because I wouldn’t torment them with this

[chipmunkweirdo]

I’m really sick, with that thing that I’ve always been terrified of getting. I got it from work, just like I knew I would.

As such, my anxiety has been THROUGH THE ROOF because I’m stuck in bed all day alone with my thoughts and because I didn’t get to take a cold shower. (praying I still react the same to them when I get better)

Anyway…

Eleanor’s feeling significantly less sick than I am, so we teamed up to write this!

I was going crazy without writing. Very VERY crazy.

This has taught me that I can write with a headache. So maybe that means I can write after work some days! Hopefully!

[star-going-supernova]

Okay, here’s a prompt I’m a bit surprised I haven’t seen yet. Only three words, but with near infinite potential.

Gregory. April Fools.

Have fun.

I’m picturing the kids as being thirteen or fourteen in this one. 

Expectations (And the Breaking of Them)

Cassie couldn’t help but snicker to herself at how tense her classmates and teacher were that morning. Some kept eyeing the doorway, perhaps praying that Gregory wouldn’t walk through it on today of all days. 

April Fools Day.

Gregory’s pranks the previous year were a thing of legend, and she truly regretted having been out that week with the flu. Rumor had it that multiple teachers had been clamoring to give him detention (or even have him suspended) for some of his stunts, but the true brilliance of his school-wide torment wasn’t how elaborate or funny or distracting the pranks were. It was that there was no proof that Gregory was the culprit. 

Oh, everyone knew, of course. But they had no way to truly pin any of it on him, and it was even less of a secret that his moms would gladly rip into the administration if their son was punished for something without proof of guilt. 

The only thing the teachers had on him was being one of the five instigators of a massive food fight during lunch. 

Needless to say, Gregory had a lot to live up to this year, and all his potential victims were already flinching. 

At last, Gregory sauntered into the classroom with a satisfied grin. Over a dozen pairs of wary eyes zeroed in on him. 

“Hey, Cassie,” he greeted her as slid into her desk behind her. 

“Good morning,” she replied dryly. 

He chuckled. “It certainly is.” 

Attendance was taken soon after, and hour by hour, the day passed by agonizingly slowly. Every time Gregory made a sound or shifted in his seat or raised his hand, someone would flinch or duck or give him a suspicious look. Their teacher looked like she dearly wanted to refuse when Gregory asked to go to the bathroom, and she watched the clock like a hawk until he came back an ordinary amount of time later. 

But nothing happened. 

Lunch arrived, and many students cautiously checked their lunches for tampering. Even those who’d bought their lunch were hesitant to eat. Cassie sat beside him as usual, and they chatted about their after school plans while everyone else watched Gregory over their shoulders for any signs of mischief. 

But nothing happened. 

Gregory was a model student for the remainder of the day as well, even as the spark in his eyes never dimmed. The silence during their final free period was thick; the unlucky few to be seated in Gregory’s immediate vicinity unsubtly scooted their desks away until only Cassie remained in a five foot radius around him. 

But the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and nothing happened. 

• • •

Once they were safely far away from any potential eavesdroppers, Cassie finally let out all the laughter she’d been swallowing back. Gregory joined in, snickering gleefully as they walked down the sidewalk to Cassie’s house. 

“They were all so afraid!” she giggled. “Everyone was acting like you were about to explode or something!” 

“I could practically taste their fear,” Gregory said proudly. 

“Best April Fools ever.” 

“Not yet, it’s not.” Gregory pulled out a phone that wasn’t his and tapped around for a minute before holding the screen out to her. “Care to do the honors, my dear partner in crime?” 

“Gladly.” And Cassie tapped a single button, launching the prank to end all pranks that she had spent most of the day setting up. Because while everyone else had been so focused on Gregory, no one had paid any attention to her—not as she’d fiddled on that very phone, not as she took an extra long bathroom trip, and not even as she slipped into the main office under the guise of making copies for her teacher. 

It’d been Gregory’s idea, just as much as it’d been his idea that he would effortlessly keep the spotlight on himself while she put everything into place. 

A moment later, their phones received an official email from the official administration email address sent to all students and parents announcing there would be no school the next day on account of “a prank that has caused some property damage.” No doubt, everyone would assume it was the prank they’d all been expecting from Gregory. 

The teachers, though, would be getting no such email. In the morning, they would be faced quite bewilderingly with a completely and utterly empty school.

The phone, borrowed from the pizzaplex’s lost and found, would be returned to the box of junk that evening, wiped clean of any incriminating evidence. No one would ever know how, or even truly who, had pulled off a prank that got everyone a free day—

—but it was generally accepted to be the best prank ever committed at their school, and Gregory was the favorite suspect. Naturally. And while no one would ever seriously suspect kind, quiet Cassie as an accomplice, there were some who noticed that that April Fools Day, her eyes had been just as bright with mischief as her best friend’s. 

[virgo-mess]

Silver Thread Chapter 8 Part 1

Hello all, I've nearly fully recovered from the flu and bronchitis ailment I was subject to save for a little congestion and a cough, I'm feeling much better! I'm sorry this took me so long to get out to you and that I'm splitting it into 2 parts. It's just what feels right for the pacing atm so forgive me for that abrupt cut off this part is already 12,288 words so we would've probably ended up in 20,000-word territory for 1 post and that's a little excessive, I should have part 2 done and dusted in the next few days!

If all goes as intended Chapter 9 may be the last official chapter for Silver Thread, with a small epilogue instead of a full chapter 10 since we be heading right into Silver Bells after I get this completed. I'm planning on only five or six chapters for Silver Bells and a decently sized epilogue with lots of fun adorable snippets of Veda and Terry in the years following Silver Bells! And then that might be it for the Silver Thread verse for a while, I don't fully foresee the events of Cobra Kai happening in this universe because of the Kreese side of things. But if they were to come to frustration, I feel like Veda will just be at a point where she's keen to be blissfully unaware and totally uninterested in whatever it is Terry and Daniel are arguing about now. At least until Terry gets arrested.....With all that being said I'm still aiming to upload all the chapters for Siver Bells on one day sometime before the end of the month, fingers crossed!

Trigger Warning for part 1: Fluff, romance, me living out travel fantasies through characters, Mild smut, consensual oral female receiving, consensual fingering, Terry and Veda have a lot of cute moments, Implications of Terry breaking into houses to torment Chad and Tommy off screen, Terry also beats Chad severely off screen, Terry destroys Chad and Tommy's property off screen and that's about it for this part!

Veda’s Pov

Veda went through the rest of the aquarium with Terry feeling a lot more relaxed. Terry kept his arms wrapped around her the entire time showering her with sweet words of affirmation and adoration as they looked at all the things the ocean had to offer. Anytime her mind tried to get away from her Terry was there to pull her back to earth and by the time they wandered back towards the boardwalk to get to the car, most of Veda’s fear of impending doom had dwindled. She believed Terry when he said he’d protect her because he already made her feel so safe whenever they were together. He was being especially attentive with her now that the weather had turned out to be hotter than initially forecasted, at around 1:30 LA county issued a heat advisory warning. Veda felt much better now but Terry insisted on making several stops for refreshments inside restaurants and on standing outside the restroom every time she needed to go. Veda didn’t mind as there were still fleeting moments when she would get startled by loud noises or felt like she was being watched. She knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable being alone for a long time and she was happy she didn’t have to express this to Terry, he just knew and was handling her discomfort with so much tender care she couldn’t help but love him more.

They spent part of the drive back to Terry’s house having one of their silent conversations, shared looks of contentment and soft smiles, with the soft sounds of Songbird by Fleetwood Mac lulling on the radio. Veda pulled her hair out of its confines and laid her head on Terry’s thigh, looking into his blue eyes she couldn’t help but feel the song reflected the self-sacrificial and reciprocal nature of their relationship. Veda couldn’t help the way she sang along while Terry stroked her hair in the same soothing motions that he always did, taking his eyes off the road every so often to mouth them back to her with a content smile on his face. Making the song another extension of their devotion to each other, it was theirs and there was nothing Dutch or Tommy or Chad could do to taint it.

“I love you” Veda breathed out as the song died down, gazing up at him with her heart full of pure unadulterated love and adoration, she brought the hand stroking her hair to her lips peppering it with kisses as she maintained his gaze with drowsy but content eyes. Terry smiled at her softly bringing her small hand to his lips to return the gesture, Veda didn’t miss the stray tear rolling down his left cheek and moved to wipe it away quickly. Terry gave her hand one last kiss and a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s a happy tear, you have a beautiful singing voice, baby girl. Thank you for sharing it with me, I’d love to hear it more often if you’d let me. I love you so much sweetheart, you can go to sleep. You’re safe now” he cooed, as he resumed the comforting passes through her hair, Veda relaxed giving him a dreamy smile as she felt he heart flutter the way it only ever did for him, she knew that she’d always be safe as long as Terry was here. Veda slowly drifted off to sleep feeling completely serene and deeply loved.

For you there'll be no more crying

For you the Sun will be shining

And I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

To you, I'll give the world

To you, I'll never be cold

'Cause I feel that when I'm with you

It's alright, I know it's right

And the songbirds are singing

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before

And I wish you all the love in the world

But most of all, I wish it from myself

And the songbirds keep singing

Like they know the score

And I love you, I love you, I love you

Like never before

Like never before

Like never before

Veda stirred a while later to the feeling of Terry gently trying to shift her into his arms, hovering over her from where he stood outside the passenger door. Veda let out a breathy half yawn and sigh combo as she looked up at him with a dreamy smile and groggy eyes. Terry gave her a soft smile in return caressing her bruised cheek with his fingers gingerly as he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“I’m sorry baby girl, I didn’t mean to wake you” he said in a soft sincere tone, Veda wrapped her arms around his neck letting him pull her into a sitting position. Veda beamed at him placing a sweet peck on the lips as she looked deeply into his eyes for a long moment. Remembering the moment, they had just before she drifted off to sleep in his lap and how perfect it was.

“That’s alright, I love seeing your face when I wake up, Romeo” she cooed tiredly, scooting to the edge of the car seat, she wanted nothing more than to be pressed against him right now. Terry chuckled softly sensing what she wanted, he eagerly guided her to wrap her legs around his waist and lifted her out of the car with ease. Terry peppered her cheek with adoring kisses before wrapping an arm around her back and placing his other just under her butt to keep her in place while he walked toward the house. Veda let out a happy giggle and nuzzled her face into the side of his neck breathing in the warm woodsy scent of his cologne, Terry knew it was her favorite and sometimes sprayed her pillow with it if he knew he couldn’t spend the night. She had come to find it so comforting; the way it engulfed her mind, body, and soul like a warm earthy blanket swaddling her like a protective shield. Terry rubbed comforting circles on her back and placed a few more kisses in her hair as he stepped into the entry way. Veda giggled into his neck planting a few kisses of her own.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Silver. I wasn’t expecting you back so soon but I’m assuming the heat got the best of us, huh. Would you like me to prepare some refreshments for you by the pool or is the little one in need of a rest?” came a warm male voice from the entry way, Veda couldn’t pinpoint his accent, but she felt him stroke one of her shoulders with the back of his knuckle affectionately. Veda felt her cheeks flush bashfully at another one of Terry’s employees using Larry’s affectionate nickname for her, all of his staff seemed keen on showing her just as much warm motherly and fatherly tenderness as they showed Terry. Treating her like she was already a part of their unconventional little family made her heart sing. Veda loosened her legs from around Terry’s waist, planting a few more sweet kisses on his neck before withdrawing her face to look at him, asking him a silent question. Terry chuckled giving her a playful pout as he removed the arm he had placed under her butt, using the arm around her back to gently lower her to the ground. Veda beamed at him again and eagerly held his hand feeling her excitement bubble at the fact she was finally seeing the house. Terry chuckled gently turning her to face the man that greeted them at the door, a kind looking older man with short hair black hair and a warm smile. In her excitement Veda tackled him in a bear hug without thinking about it and felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. The man chuckled softly under his breath as he returned her hug and flashed her a reassuring smile when she pulled away timidly.

“Thank you for that warm greeting little one, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you everyone here says great things about you they simply adore you and I understand why. You are quite right Mr. Silver she is a darling and so beautiful, excellent choice, sir.” He said warmly, Terry beamed with pride as he wrapped both of his arms around Veda’s waist and pulled her into his chest.

“Veda, this is Milos, like Margaret he takes care of my every need and absurd demand without hesitation and while you’re staying here, he’ll be taking care of yours too.”  Terry said with a warm smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Mr. Milos” Veda said sweetly, flashing him a big grin, she had a feeling they’d be great friends. Milos returned it but Veda didn’t miss the way his eyes trained on her bruised cheek, seeming to just register what it was. Terry let go of her briefly, walking over to Milos to have a hushed conversation; Veda tuned them out and took the opportunity to admire some of the textile bricks in the short entry way of the Ennis house not wanting to think about anything that happened during her heat exhaustion or before their trip to the aquarium. None of it really mattered now that she was here with Terry anyway, the odds of Dutch and Tommy finding her here were slim to none. She was, however, dreading any trips she’d have to make back to her apartment or the evening hours she would have to spend on campus without Terry. She wouldn’t put it past either Dutch or Tommy to track her down there, the campus security wasn’t the best in the world, Cal Tech was a smaller school after all, and Dutch and Tommy blended in well with their school demographic.

“Milos would you mind fetching her bags and taking the car and inform Howard we will be having friends joining us for dinner this evening. While I give my sweet girl a long overdue tour of the house” Terry walked back over to her with a warm smile, as he wrapped his arms back around her and placed a comforting kiss on her cheek sensing her tension. Veda relaxed into his arms and gave him a reassuring smile.

“Of course, Mr. Silver “Milos said, giving her a courteous bow and another warm smile. Veda blushed again giving him a shy smile in return, she still wasn’t used to formal greetings and part of her felt like she probably never would.

“Mr. Milos, you don’t have to bow to me it’s really alright” she said timidly, stroking the backs of Terry’s hands with her thumbs feeling him kiss her shoulder tenderly and tighten his grip around her waist a bit. Milos chuckled softly under his breath throwing her a soft fond smile.

“Nonsense, little one, every lady deserves a gentlemanly greeting, and you may call me Milos. I hope you enjoy your tour of the house.” Milos said with another courteous bow before disappearing out the front door. Veda glanced up at Terry with an eager smile on her face practically bouncing with excitement at this point, Terry flashed her an amused sort of smile as he wordlessly directed her up the entryway staircase keeping an arm firmly wrapped around her waist as they ascended the stairs. Veda let out a soft gasp as they entered the large living room, the late afternoon sunlight was streaming through the large windows engulfing the room in a warm gold embrace with the Los Angeles skyline glittering behind them.

“You like it” Terry said, Veda detected a hint of hopefulness in his voice as he looked down at her trying to read her mind. Veda gave him a bright reassuring smile as she wrapped her arms around his torso.

“I love it Terry, you have a beautiful home, but you already know that don’t you, Romeo” Veda said in a cheery tone standing on her tip toes to capture him in a sweet kiss. Terry beamed at her lovingly, resting his forehead against hers as he brought a hand up to stroke her cheek.

“I’m glad you love it, baby girl because I have an idea to run by you” he said, still sounding hopeful as he looked deeply into her eyes. Veda gave him a reassuring smile as she looked up at him, trying to pinpoint what he might be proposing to her this time. She nodded her head in acknowledgment silently urging for him to continue, trailing one of her hands up his back to toy with the ends of his hair softly.

“I would very much like for this to be your home too, I know you like your independence, sweetheart, but after what happened this afternoon, I don’t feel comfortable with you living in that neighborhood or apartment alone. At least if you’re here I know there will always be someone looking out for you if I’m not available for some reason…” he trailed, stroking her bruised cheek with his thumb, and placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. Veda stiffened slightly letting out a shaky breath, as she thought about Dutch and Tommy, planning what she can only assume is her impending demise. Veda didn’t really have to think about it, she found it cute Terry was so worried about asking her this when she was wearing the promise ring he gave her, it glittered quite beautifully in the summer sun streaming in through the large windows. Moving in didn’t mean she had to get married and start a family right away, this was the modern era, she could still maintain some of her independence, finish school and have a career. Moving in would help ease both of their anxieties surrounding the whole situation.

“I don’t mind moving in at all, Terry. I don’t feel comfortable living there alone now either, but my lease doesn’t end until February and they’ll make me pay for the rest of the year up front and an extra penalty fee if I break it without giving them 30 days’ notice…” Veda trailed, part of wanting some independence steamed from her not wanting to use Terry’s money even if he was shoving it into her hands. She was more afraid of what would happen if she and Terry were to end up like her parents, she knew Terry wouldn’t leave her without a dime to her name but the prospect of being a struggling single mother was still terrifying. Terry shushed her, pulling her in for a brief kiss before giving her a reassuring smile.

“You don’t have to worry about that, baby girl. I’ve got friends everywhere, getting you out of your lease shouldn’t be too difficult, I’ll take care of it. Now, let’s get you familiar with the rest of our home, my angel. I want you to feel right at home as soon as possible” he said cheerily, as he eagerly tugged her to follow him. Veda gave him a rosy smile feeling her heart flutter at him using the word, our, she knew she’d have no problem feeling right at home because to her home was wherever he was, and she didn’t want it any other way.

Terry spent the rest of June working everything out with her landlord, Terry obviously had no problem buying her out of it if she had wanted to, but Veda thought doing things the right way would be better. Because at least then she’d have a clear record in case she needed to rent again in the future. Getting out of her lease the right way involved her heading to the police station to get a temporary restraining order in place, with Terry by her side they granted it quite quickly. However, they were only able to grant her one against Chad Johnson since he had been the one that actually assaulted her that afternoon at the pier, her bruise was bad enough and Terry was able to get the paramedic to attest to the fact she was in emotional distress when he treated her. She couldn’t get one granted against Dutch without them having to open an investigation and look at her hospital records from months prior because she had no evidence of Dutch contacting her since then. Without that they couldn’t determine if what Tommy said was actually a threat to her life. Veda was still afraid, she sometimes woke up from nightmares in the middle of the night, but she was less worried about it now that she had been basically living with Terry since that day at the pier.

Exam week marked the end of June and Veda’s summer classes, the restraining order had successfully terminated her lease agreement and a lot of Veda’s belongings had already found a place in the Ennis House. She was surprised Terry insisted on keeping her cheap décor and kitchen ware, Howard looked at him like he was insane when Terry told him to use Lucille’s hand painted Italian ceramics for serving, he wasn’t a fan of the colorful fish designs taking away from his masterful plating skills. Terry was making all the stops to make Veda feel like the Ennis house was just as much her home as it was his, he even encouraged her to redecorate his bedroom with him so it looked like something they both would like.

 They made a few trips up to Beverly Hills and West Hollywood to look for décor at some of the high-end furniture stores, though Veda was vaguely aware Terry was just trying to keep her mind off whatever he was doing to take care of her Dutch problem. She thought it better not to question anything, but she knew Margaret, Milos, and even Larry were working overtime to feed him information or to keep her occupied when he slipped out of the house. Terry would never be gone more than an hour when that happened, it was still hard for them to be a part for too long, living together only strengthened their relationship and their attachment to each other. Everyone at the office started calling them Terra like they were one solitary unit instead of two separate individuals. They still hardly everargued about anything, they never strayed from their playful teasing and flirting dynamic. Margaret often found them chasing each other down the central loggia, pouncing on each other in the pool, or having one of their tickle fights on one of the sofas. In a lot of ways, it felt like they were living in their own little bubble, set apart from the rest of the world in what Veda could only describe as their own little personal paradise.

🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆

July-

July started with Veda getting notice she aced all of her exams which gave her a great head start to her freshman year. Terry set up an intimate candlelit dinner on the bedroom terrace to celebrate and even made her mom’s chicken cacciatore with homemade pasta and, he plated everything beautifully in her mom’s Italian ceramics. Veda kissed and praised him the entire night feeling especially lovestruck that the first meal he ever cooked for her proved how well he knew her and how much he truly loved her. Veda ended up snapping two polaroid pictures of the whole thing, one to give Lucille so she could see what an amazing job he did and one so she could cherish the memory forever. Terry was of course spurred by her reaction and promised to cook for her more since it made her so unbelievably happy. They ended that night in the bath giving each other a number of orgasms, Veda was grateful the master bedroom was a great distance away from the chauffer’s quarters that were separate from the main house because Terry had her shrieking in ecstasy most of the night.

Veda stirred the morning of July 3rd with her head resting on Terry’s chest. To the feel of him running his long fingers through her thick hair, the same way she’d been waking up and falling asleep since she moved in. Veda let out a content sigh, slowly fluttering her eyes open to see Terry already staring at her with one of his groggy content smiles plastered across his face. His dark curls were fanned out across his silk pillows and Veda couldn’t think of a more beautiful thing to wake up to as she reached up to run her fingers through the ends of his hair and run a thumb down his cheek. Terry let out a content sigh at the action as he bowed down to place a tender kiss on her forehead and then one on her nose. Veda giggled scrunching her nose up just for him loving the adoring smile he gave her in return.

“Good morning, my beautiful girl” he cooed, still running his hands through her messy black waves gently as he stared lovingly into her eyes. Veda swore she felt her heart actually melt as she beamed back at him capturing him in a brief sweet kiss. Terry smiled back at her happily before moving to sit up against the headboard and positioning her to sit across his lap so he could nuzzle his face into her neck. Both of them sat for a moment listening to the birds chirping as they stroked each other’s hair affectionately.

“Good morning, my love” Veda cooed in his ear as she placed a kiss on his shoulder, Terry placed a long kiss on her collarbone before leaning back against the headboard. Looking at her with the same smile plastered across his face and adoration swirling in his blue eyes. Veda loved the way the morning sun streaming in through the windows made his eyes sparkle for her.

“Okay, my sweet girl, how would you like to do things today. Should we have breakfast or brunch, we have an hour and a half drive to Santa Barbara and dinner reservations at the resort are at 6” he crooned, caressing her cheek with a thumb gently even though the bruise she had there had finally healed up a few days prior. Veda smiled at him reassuringly, the spot didn’t hurt anymore but she knew Terry knew she was having bad dreams about the event on a few nights though she did her best to hide it.

“Let’s do brunch, I’m not that hungry right now and I’ve got to finish packing a few things” she said still toying with his dark curls as she smiled at him, Terry nodded giving her another kiss on the forehead.

“Alright, baby girl, you finish packing while I got get us some coffee from Milos then I’ll start the shower and we can get going, okay” Terry cooed, lifting her out of the bed with him before setting her gently on her feet. Veda nodded excitedly, giving him a quick peck on the lips she watched him turn off all the Christmas lights he had strung up for her before heading towards the closet and searching for her duffle bag in one of the boxes they hadn’t unpacked yet.

 She had put off packing because she was nervous about taking a step further into Terry’s upper-class world, well two steps because when they got back from this trip on Sunday, they’d be heading to her first gala later that evening. Everything just felt a little overwhelming because she and Terry had been living out most of their relationship in a secure little bubble, forgetting about the rest of the world and their opinions. Terry had been dwelling in her safe space for some time now, but Veda couldn’t help but think they weren’t the same thing. Simply because Terry had dwelled in her world before, living among regular people for a set period of time when he was in Vietnam, he had even maintained friendships with some of his regular joe war buddies.

She understood why of course, you can easily latch onto people who have been through the same things as you have because there’s an overarching sense of fellow feeling between you. Veda and Terry had that affinity for each other, they both went through difficult things and were hurt by other people. They found their common ground in his car on her 19th birthday right before they confessed their love to the other. Veda had only ever treaded lightly in Terry’s world, the closest she ever got to it was having dinner at the country club in Encino with Dutch and look where that got her. That was why she was so hesitant to give a guy with Terry’s status a chance and although she trusted Terry and his judgement now, she couldn’t help but be afraid of the judgements people in his world made about her. Yet another way Dutch had ruined her sense of self-worth,

Veda fumbled through the closet pulling numerous pieces of clothing off the racks and shelves without packing them. Everything seemed like the wrong choice no matter what the price tag attached to it said, she thought his friends would see right through her charade and badger Terry to come to his senses. Even with all Terry’s efforts to make her feel like she fit into his life she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t. She could faintly hear Terry venture back into the bedroom and turn the water on in the bathroom, Veda let out a frustrated sigh at her still mostly empty bag save for a selection of undergarments, swimsuits, and pajama sets, but she obviously couldn’t walk around a five-star resort in Santa Barbara wearing those. Packing for a three- and half-day trip shouldn’t be this hard, but she suspected a lot of her anxiety was also about the gala they were supposed to attend when they got back on Sunday. Having her first small step and her first big step into Terry’s world lined up back-to-back had her wanting to pull her hair out from the stress alone.

“Are you ready baby” Terry said, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at her as he leaned against the doorframe of the closet in only his boxers, Veda giggled blushing slightly as she gazed over at him nibbling on her lip nervously.

“No, I don’t know what to wear or pack. I want to meet your friends but I’m really nervous about them and the gala” she admitted sheepishly, as she pointed to the heap of clothes she had pulled from the shelves and off hangers. Terry’s eyes softened walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace and peppering her face with reassuring kisses.

“It’s okay, baby girl, don’t worry. I will be with you the whole time and if anyone of them says anything out of line I will put them in place, huh. I told you about Ian and his girlfriend Gwen and about Simon and his girlfriend Anna, sweetheart. Ian, Gwen, and Anna are nice, but Simon is a bit stuffy just pay him no mind. Do you remember what I told you yesterday” Terry said, tenderly stroking her cheek with his thumb as he looked at her with sincere eyes.  Veda sighed nodding her head in acknowledgement pointing between their promise rings.

“No one can convince you not to be with me and if anyone at the gala gives me trouble you, Margaret, or Larry will take them out for me” Veda giggled softly, Terry nodded letting out a pleased rumble as he pulled her into a passionate kiss that left her weak in the knees and breathless.

“Yes, you’re my one and only, Veda. Okay, would you like me to help you pick out some things? I want you to feel as comfortable as possible, baby girl. There’s no one on our trip you have to impress, and you look beautiful in everything anyway, I only pick the best remember” he cooed, peppering her face with reassuring kisses and running his hands in soothing patterns up her arms. Veda relaxed into him feeling a bit more at ease as he helped her go through the pile of clothes settling on some floral sun dresses, dinner dresses, and a few short sets just so she had options. Veda let out a relieved sounding sigh as she picked an outfit to wear after the shower, a simple white mini dress with a blue floral pattern and blue Jimmy Choo wedges.

“That’s perfect, sweetheart and we can match, see.” Terry said holding up one of his white button ups and navy-blue shorts with a big grin plastered across his ever handsome face.

“You’re going to do just fine and we’re going to have fun. Let’s go get cleaned up and relax a bit, hmm” Terry cooed giving her another tender kiss on the temple, Veda nodded with a bashful smile on her face as he led her to the master bathroom. Terry gave her one of his giddy grins, Veda giggled raising her arms up for him, helping her get undressed was one of his favorite things these days and she was keen to let him do it as much as he wanted because she loved the way he looked at her like she was a piece of art in a museum. Terry gently tugged her top over her head giving her a playful kiss on the nose before slipping her shorts and panties off swiftly. Veda gave him another bashful looking smile as she returned the favor, gently sliding his boxers down his waist but never breaking eye contact. Terry cradled her face in his large hands for a moment before giving her a tender peck on the lips.

“Do you want me to wash your hair today, baby girl” he crooned with a soft smile tugging on his lips, Veda felt her heart flutter as she looked up at him rosy cheeks, she just loved the feel of his hands in her hair no matter what they were doing, and Terry seemed to really love cleaning her up during their showers.

“Yes, please” she said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck, Terry made a pleased sound before pulling her into the hot steamy water with him. Terry gave her one last kiss on the forehead before lathering her up in her favorite soaps with a warm cloth, Veda let out a content sigh melting into his tender motions. Terry chuckled under his breath as he scooped some of her favorite sugar scrub into his hands, gently rubbing the scrub all over her body as he gazed into her eyes. Veda gave him a dreamy sort of smile; she was keen to let him do this as long as he wanted to, and he knew that. Terry chuckled again giving her a playful kiss on the nose as he helped her rinse the scrubs and soaps off.

“Alright, baby girl, tilt your head back for me. Good girl” he cooed as she immediately threw her head back into the stream of water flowing from the gold shower head for a moment. Terry ran his hands through her thick hair a few times before gently guiding her head into an upright position. He lathered her hair up with some of his sweet-smelling shampoo, Veda repressed a giggle because he made it a point to use it on her all the time now, after she said it smelled nice passively one time in a totally obscure conversation. Terry guided her to tilt her head back again as he tenderly rinsed all the suds out of her hair, he added a drop of conditioner to sit for a few minutes while he cleaned himself up. Veda swatted his hands away from the warm cloth as she switched places with him.

“Alright, your turn Romeo” Veda said, grabbing another warm cloth she pumped some of his favorite soap onto it and reached up to run it down his broad shoulders and his muscled torso and arms. Terry flashed her a bashful smile but made no move to stop her as she proceeded to clean him up, taking her time as she moved around him to clean every spot she could reach.

“I can’t reach your hair up there, Mr. Silver” she chided playfully, Terry chuckled flashing her a mischievous sort of grin before scooping her up off the shower floor. Veda let out a surprised squeal and a fit of giggles as she clamped her legs around him tightly, Terry steadied her by gripping her ass firmly and wrapping his other arm around her back tightly. Veda gave him a playful scowl.

“You could’ve just bent down, silly” she giggled, wetting his hair under the gold shower head before leaning down to pump some of the shampoo into her hands. Terry chuckled with an amused grin plastered across his face.

“Now where’s the fun in that, baby girl, I’m combining a lot my favorite things. I get to look at you and hold you all while having you wet, naked and pressed against me. You’re spoiling me doll and it’s not even my birthday” he said teasingly, giving her ass cheek a gentle squeeze as he stared back at her with a hungry glint his eyes. Veda rolled her eyes, her cheeks flaring a brighter shade of red as she felt her clit throb eagerly at the action. She ignored her arousal as she started lathering his wet hair up gingerly, she tensed up a bit as she felt his hard cock brush against her thigh. Terry cooed a string of sweet nothings in her ear, caressing her back where his hand was still holding her against him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, remember you’re always in control” he crooned reassuringly, as he tilted his head further into the water so she could rinse all the suds out. Veda dragged a finger along his cheek affectionately, feeling her heart swell in adoration as she tilted his back towards her.

“I know, Terry, I trust you completely it’s just a reflex and I’m sorry it happens, but I promise it’s not because of you. Do you want conditioner, my love?” she asked sweetly, Terry shook his head, leaning up to pepper her face in tender kisses before setting her gently back on the ground to quick rinse out her hair. When he finished, he wrapped her in a tight warm embrace, almost like he was trying to pry the reflex out of her, she really wished he could but they both knew it wouldn’t subside until Dutch was finally off the horizon.

“Veda, I know you’re not doing it on purpose sweetheart, and it isn’t your fault it happens, so you don’t need to be sorry. I promise it doesn’t bother me when it does because I love taking care of you, I love you always, okay” he whispered reassuringly in her ear, stroking her bare back with his long fingers and kissing her head more times than she could count before turning off the water. Veda beamed at him dreamily feeling like her heart might burst with how happy he made her, she let him lift her out of the shower and wrap her up in one of his big plush towels. Staring up at him as she silently made her decision, this trip would mark the solidification of their relationship and devotion for each other. Veda couldn’t remember ever being this sure about anything in her life, but she was sure about her feelings for Terry, and she was sure about his feelings for her.

“I love you too” she cooed back at him.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

They got dressed and finished their morning coffee before finally heading out for Santa Barbara around 10:30. They spent the whole drive laughing and talking about everything and nothing, all they really cared about was seeing the other smile. Veda even sang along to a few songs just to see Terry beam at her adoringly as he traced patterns on her thigh. They stopped for a quick brunch before nearing the San Ysidro Ranch around 1:30 in the afternoon. Veda gasped as she took in the sprawling greenery dotted with olive trees and French lavender swaying in the warm summer breeze against the lush foothills of Montecito.

“See, baby you fit right in my gorgeous little nymph” Terry crooned pointing to the outfit he helped her pick out this morning, now she knew why he kept gravitating to her floral pieces. Veda giggled placing a few kisses on the back of his hand as he pulled up to the reception cottage to check them in. Terry let Veda wander around the garden for a minute, watching her wander around in one of her child like wonder fixations, with an adoring smile on his face.

“Smile, sweetheart” he said holding up her polaroid camera, Veda blushed wondering where he had it stashed away, she misplaced it after snapping a picture of the Chicken Cacciatore he made for her, Lucille made sure to call and shower him with warm motherly praise after she got it. Veda giggled giving him a coy smile as she stopped to pose for him in front of one of the big rose bushes. Terry beamed at her as he raised the camera to his eye and snapped two polaroids of her, he shook them for a few seconds as he walked over to show her the end results with an adoring grin on his face. Veda blushed wrapping her arms around his torso as she looked down at them with a bashful smile on her face.

“They look good, Romeo, good work” she cooed, letting her cheek rest against his chest as she stared up at him with loving eyes, Terry placed a small kiss on the tip of her nose still beaming down at her as his blue eyes glittered in the warm summer sun.

“I didn’t do that much, my sweet girl, you’re just that gorgeous the camera loves you. We really have to start taking more pictures together though. To immortalize all our time together because I never want to forget anything and we’ll have photo albums to show our children someday” Terry said in a cheery tone, Veda gave him a shy smile at the mention of their future hypothetical children. They still hadn’t really talked about that possibility since she started the pill. Veda’s curiosity was piqued on the subject as they strolled into the reception cottage with her arms still wrapped firmly around his torso. Veda didn’t listen to much of Terry’s conversation with the receptionist as she stared up at him for a long while, Terry flashed her sweet smiles and placed kisses on her forehead during the pauses in his conversation. She hadn’t really thought about what Terry would look like as a father but seeing how much care and love he showed her on a daily basis had her thinking he’d actually be a great father. This she knew with absolute certainty, there were no doubts or second guessing, there was just the truth, and the truth was Terry would be every bit as much of a doting father to their kids as her own father was to her and Daniel. They say you often fall for people that remind you of your parents in some way and for the first time Veda could see her dad in Terry, maybe that’s why being with him felt like déjà vu, why their love felt like it had transcended time and space a million times over before they even met, and why she felt like they’d been together forever.

Veda was pulled out of her inner epiphany by Terry stroking her cheek gingerly, Veda gave him a dreamy sort of smile as she looked at him in a new way. Terry smiled back at her gently guiding her out of the cottage and back into the warm summer sunlight, she admired how the sunlight seemed to swirl around him as they walked back down the cobblestone steps and through the lush colorful gardens. Veda found herself wishing she could draw the scene unfolding before her in all its beautiful, serene glory, in their own little personal paradise once again, the world around her seemed to fade and the only thing surrounding her was him.

“Just making sure you’re still with me, baby girl, looked like I lost you to a memory” Terry said, his eyes still glittering in the light as he opened the car door for her flashing her one of his charming smiles in an almost carefree manner. And there she saw it again, a quick glimpse in the golden summer light, one of her father’s carefree laughs echoing distantly in the back of her ears like a lullaby. Veda smiled back at Terry swooping in to place a quick peck on his lips, her heart still swelling in a new kind of dreamy rapt as she stared back at him.

“I was just thinking of how you’ll be a great father someday” she said sincerely, Terry gave her an adorable, uncharacteristically shy smile as he gazed back at her with rosy cheeks. His eyes were still glittering like little pools of rippling water as he placed a hand over his heart at the compliment.

“That means so much coming from you, my angel, you’re so sweet. You’ll be an amazing mom, Veda, hopefully to my children.” he breathed out, Veda’s eyes softened as she reached out to stoke his cheek tenderly putting as much sincerity in her next statement as humanly possible.

“Terry, you’re the only person in the world I’d ever even consider having children with. If they’re not ours, I won’t be having them, can’t promise I won’t take someone else’s though” she said teasingly, hopping back into the car so they could drive back to the cottage they’d be staying in. Terry chuckled, relacing his fingers with hers as he restarted the car.

“Adopting is always an option, sometimes hand-picking children can be nice at least you know what you’re getting but I have a feeling our kids would be quite perfect no matter what” he crooned, slowly making his way to the back of the Ranch property. Veda giggled bashfully, peeling her eyes off the gorgeous scenery to look at him.

“Zoe thinks our children will be quite terrifying. How many children were you thinking about having anyway, Mr. Silver” Veda quipped playfully, though she was really quite serious because she didn’t think she could handle birthing more than two children, maybe even three if she was feeling particularly ambitious but difficult pregnancies tended to run in LaRusso bloodline and with her luck, she’d be the worst of them all. Terry gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as he looked at her with soft caring eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, however many you want to give me of course. Your body and your comfort will always come first even ten years from now, okay. We can talk about it all when we’re closer to that phase which will be way after you graduate from college, preferably USC but if it’s CalTech that’s fine too. You should be enjoying this stage of your life without worrying about kids, sweetheart. I don’t mind waiting for you at all, you know” Terry said flashing her a sincere smile as he turned into the private driveway, Veda hadn’t thought much about USC with everything going on lately, but she was starting to come around to the idea with them living together now. It also helped that USC campus was a lot bigger than the CalTech campus, she had thought of how easy it would be for Dutch to track her down at such a small school. Veda beamed at him leaning over to pepper his face with kisses.

“I know you don’t, you always take great care of me, my love and I really appreciate you being so patient with me. You’re the most amazing boyfriend in the world and I love you so much. Where will we be staying” Veda cooed, accenting each word with a tender kiss, Terry put the car in park before capturing her in a loving kiss.

“I love you more than anything in the world, baby. We’re staying in two bedroom Kennedy Cottage, it’s where John and Jackie Kennedy spent their honeymoon. It’s got all the luxuries, a private hot tub, an outdoor rain shower, a great terrace overlooking Channel Islands, complimentary in room dining for every meal if you want princess, a great oversized claw bathtub and a little extra surprise just for you, sweetheart.” Terry said with a bright smile as his eyes glittered in the afternoon sun, Ved blushed smiling back at him with a newfound excitement at the mention of a surprise.

“Oh, I don’t mind it just being you and me of course but I thought the others would be staying with us. What kind of surprise could you have possibly planned for me and why, Romeo” she said teasingly, Terry chuckled staring at her with loving glittering blue eyes as he toyed with the promise ring on her finger.

“If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise now, will it baby girl. Ian is planning on proposing to Gwen, so he booked the Olive cottage which is right next to ours and I don’t like Simon enough to let him impede on our romantic getaway, baby. Let’s pop in and see your surprise before we meet the others for tea in the garden, my sweet girl” he said eagerly placing a kiss on her forehead, before hopping out of the car and opening her door for her with a gentlemanly bow. Veda giggled gently taking the hand he offered her to step out of the car, she gave him a quick courtesy with a playful smile on her face.

Terry chuckled as he opened the back car door to grab their bags, he lazily threw them over one of his shoulders so they could hold hands as they walked through the private gated entry into the private courtyard garden. Veda was practically bouncing in excitement when the stone cottage came into view looking like it was pulled right out of a fairytale, Terry always took her to the most romantic places imaginable.

“I really love this resort so far, Romeo everything is so pretty here, thank you for bringing me here with you. We have to get someone to take our picture in front of this before we leave, you know, for our photo albums” Veda said coyly batting her lashes at him with a knowing smile on her face, Terry’s whole face lit up just like she expected it would and she felt her heart swell with joy.

“Oh, sweetheart, you know I’d bring you with me everywhere if I could you don’t have to thank me, I’m just happy you agreed to come and escape some of the festivities for the holiday with me. We’re going to take so many pictures this trip, my sweet girl, don’t you worry, in fact I know exactly what picture I’m going to take of you next, come on” he said unlocking the front door, Veda felt her heart rate pick up in excitement wondering what type of surprise Terry had in store for her today as they stood in the doorway of Kennedy cottage. Terry set their bags down by the door and pulled out her polaroid camera as well as a Nikon F3 with a giddy grin plastered on his face.

“Alright, close your eyes for me baby” he crooned, giving her a playful kiss on the nose. Veda giggled as she placed her hands over her eyes for him, she could make out the sound of the door swinging open. Her body was still vibrating in excitement as she felt him gently place his hands on her forearms, guiding her through the front door carefully.

“Okay, just stand here for a second” he whispered placing a kiss on her forehead, she could hear the excitement in his voice as he let go of her forearms and shuffled about the room for a second.

“Alright, baby girl, you can open your eyes now” Terry said eagerly, Veda giggled softly under her breath, she found his excitement just as adorable as he found hers. Veda beamed slowly removing her hands from her eyes and let out a soft gasp as she took in the living area. Completely wonderstruck by all the vases filled with bunches of pink and red roses, lilies, peonies, and bunches of pink and white hydrangeas. She heard Terry snap a few pictures of her awed doe eyed expression from where he was standing by the open patio doors with a look of adoration on his face. Veda beamed at him again with rosy cheeks and a fluttering heart.

“Oh, Terry, this is so beautiful, thank you” Veda breathed out looking at him with adoration of her own as she moved to walk around the vases carefully. Terry met her halfway flashing her a warm adoring smile.

“Wait, you have to see the bedroom and bathroom, baby. They’re both set up of course you can decide which one we sleep in” he said excitedly, gently lacing his fingers with hers to guide her to one of the masters. Veda giggled with a blush spreading across her cheeks as they walked into one of the rooms to see more flower filled vases. The king-sized canopy bed was covered with pink and white rose petals with a bottle of champagne sat next to a plate full of fruit and chocolate covered strawberries. The posts had pretty fairy lights spun around them, Veda felt her heart flutter, after the incident at the pier she couldn’t sleep very well and would wake up screaming and sweating from a few nightmares. The nightmares were less frequent now but she still needed a little light in the room to keep her from being startled by the dancing shadows streaming in through the bedroom windows. Instead of getting a nightlight or leaving the light on in the bathroom, Terry hung a few Christmas lights over the headboard and along the windowsills for her because she had said Christmas was her favorite holiday.

“You spoil me too much, Romeo” Veda said breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his torso in a side hug looking up at him with unadulterated love and devotion in her eyes. Terry’s eyes softened a bit, returning the look in her eyes tenfold and giving her a tender kiss on her healed cheek. They had one of their unspoken moments with rosy cheeks and adoring grins before they ventured into the master bath, the graceful clawfoot bathtub was filled with more flower petals with unlit candles and more vases of lilies, her favorite flowers, surrounding it in a way that also made it look like he pulled it right out of a fairytale just for her.

“Seriously, how are we going to spend anytime with your friends with the room set up like this, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Ian isn’t the only one proposing this weekend” she said pointedly, she couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by it given that this was one of the most romantic cottages on the property. Terry chuckled unwrapping himself from her arms he took a step back to snap another picture of her with the polaroid and then the Nikon before pulling her in for a sweet passionate kiss that had her head spinning. Veda moaned fisting his white button up in her hands in an attempt to pull him closer but the cameras in his hand were getting in the way. Veda grumbled impatiently trying to swat the cameras out of her way, Terry chuckled against her lips before pulling away and silently motioning for her to follow him back into the bedroom. Veda pouted up at him, playfully letting out an exaggerated groan as she rewrapping her arms around his torso and rested her cheek against his back. Terry chuckled again taking careful steps so she wouldn’t fall over him as he walked towards the bed.

“Hold on baby girl, I’m just setting the cameras down so we can play some more before we go meet the others for tea in the garden. I want you to be nice and relaxed” he said teasingly, setting the cameras down on one of the nightstands. Veda bit her lip, loosening her hold on his torso a bit so he could turn around without her having to let him go. Terry chuckled softly, turning around, and cradling her face in his hands as he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

“So, what’s all this for Romeo…” she trailed looking up at his curiously, Terry flashed her a sweet smile as he stoked her cheeks with his thumbs softly. Veda sigh contently as she leaned into his touch with a dreamy type of smile on her face.

“I hadn’t planned on proposing, I just like making you feel special because of how much I love and cherish you. And to show you how appreciative I am that you’re stepping out of your comfort zone for me, sweetheart. I know you’re nervous about meeting my friends today and about the gala on Sunday when we get back and I just want to remind you how special you are to me. I have a lot of time to make up for, if I had known this type of love was out there for me, that you were out there, sweetheart. I never would have wasted my time on anyone else, I wish you were my first everything, Veda. You will definitely be getting a proposal from me someday and it’ll be ten times more beautiful than this, trust me.” Terry said wholeheartedly, brushing a few of her stray hairs out of her face. Veda’s eyes softened as she smiled up at him coyly, feeling her heart swell with joy at him sweet words. He always knew what to say to ease mind and to make her feel so special, she couldn’t imagine what a proposal from him would actually look like if he considered this and her birthday ordinary surprises.

“You already make me feel so special, Terry, you don’t have anything to make up for, silly. You would’ve been waiting an awful long time unless you had hightailed it to New Jersey two years ago. This is a very beautiful surprise, thank you my love” she cooed leaning up to give him a sweet kiss Terry sighed deepening the kiss as he tangled his fingers in her hair. Veda moaned digging her nails into his back as a warm bubbly arousal spread through her stomach to her clit. Terry made a pleased sounding hum before pulling away to let her breathe as he looked at her with lustful blue eyes.

“Veda, you would’ve been so worth the wait, can I help you relax now, baby girl” He cooed placing soft kisses down her cheek, Veda nodded breathlessly tightening her hold around his torso a bit. “You know I like you to use your words baby” he said teasingly, running his hands down her bare shoulders gently. Veda blushed biting her lip as she looked up at him through her lashes.

“Yes, please help me relax, Terry” she said softly, Terry’s eyes softened the way they always did when she spoke like that to him, he let out another pleased hum before peppering her face with adoring kisses as he walked her backwards towards the bed.

“Lay down, my sweet girl” he cooed, lowering her onto the petal covered duvet gently before reaching to move the fruit platter and champagne bottle onto the nightstand. Veda giggled softly as she watched him grab a piece of fruit off the plate and pop it in his mouth, Terry smiled at her adoringly as he grabbed a second piece.

“Here baby” he whispered holding a piece of cantaloupe to her lips looking deeply into her eyes, he still jumped at the chance to feed her every chance he got. Veda blushed coyly opening her mouth for him with a smitten smile on her face, Terry smiled down at her setting the sweet piece fruit on tongue delicately.

“Thank you, Romeo” she cooed as she finished chewing, Terry smiled leaning down to capture her in a brief heated kiss, running his large hands over her bare shoulders and collarbones, settling them just above her dress as he hovered over her, his glittering blue eyes full of love and lust as he stared at down at her. An idea seemed to spark in his pretty eyes as he moved away from her slightly, sometimes his quick moves away from her still caused her to panic a little. Her hand clasped around his arm reflexively and Terry flashed her a reassuring smile.

“You’re welcome baby girl, I’m not leaving I’m just grabbing this, okay” he said softly, grabbing the polaroid camera off the nightstand, Veda gave him a timid smile as he snapped a picture of her sprawled out form on the plush mattress with her dark waves laced with rose petals.

 “I’m sorry baby girl, you just look so gorgeous spread out for me on top of flower petals. Like a beautiful little garden nymph, I’ll get right to work now” he said playfully, leaning down to place hot open-mouthed kisses across her collarbones and cleavage stopping just above her the neckline of her dress with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“Terry, stop teasing me” she whined, Terry chuckled finally popping one of her ample breasts out of her dress and closing his mouth around her nipple, sucking, and teasing it with his teeth until it was hard and sensitive. Veda let out a breathy moan watching him suckle on her breast through lustful hooded eyes, tangling her fingers in the ends of his hair just the way he liked her to, Terry moaned in approval. Sliding one of his hands up under her dress and unlatching his mouth from her nipple to speak to her.

“Fingers, mouth, or both baby girl” he purred, moving her panties to the side and running a long finger along her slit in a feather like manner.

“Both please” she moaned, spreading her legs for him eagerly, Terry let out another moan of approval as he captured her in another passionate kiss. “Do you want me to move up so you can lay down too” she cooed breathlessly; Terry smiled down at her stroking her cheek affectionately.

“No, that’s okay my sweet girl. You’re the only person I’ll never mind getting on my knees for” he cooed giving her another brief kiss before lowering himself to the floor. Veda gave him a bashful smile as she reached out to hold one of his hands, Terry laced his fingers with hers, giving her a sweet smile and a few soft kisses up her inner thigh. Veda moaned as he let a finger tease her entrance which was already dripping with her arousal. Terry made a pleased sounding hum as he replaced his finger with his tongue, lapping up her juices as he moaned against her heat. Veda whined impatiently, wanting him to close his mouth around her swollen clit and toy with her g-spot already. She felt his warm quick breathes against her folds and knew he was laughing at her as he looked up at her with amused eyes, Veda gave him the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes she could muster as she pouted at him, sitting up slightly to place her free hand on top of his head. He loved getting her needy for him.

“Terry, please” she whined, trying to position his head where she wanted it, Terry pulled his head back still chuckling softly, gently moving her hand towards the end of his ponytail.

“Okay, baby girl, okay” he chuckled, finally dipping a longer finger inside of her tight heat slowly, Veda moaned fluttering around him as he gently stretched her out.

“You have such a tight little pussy don’t you, baby girl” he coaxed adding a second finger as he stared at her with lustful blue eyes. Veda let out another moan, absentmindedly nodding her head in acknowledgement, staring back at him with needy brown doe eyes. Terry smirked at her cocking a teasing eyebrow as he stilled his fingers inside of her, Veda pouted with a furious blush on her cheeks as she remembered his teasing reminder a few minutes ago.

“Yes Terry, I have a tight little pussy…” she said, Terry bit his lip, as he resumed pumping and angling his fingers inside of her at a steady pace but still leaving her clit annoyingly neglected. Veda pouted at him again, tightening the hold she had on his hand sharply, Terry flashed her a teasing smile.

“Yeah, baby girl, such a tight perfect little pussy…” Terry cooed teasingly, Veda narrowed her eyes at him as she tugged impatiently on his ponytail. Terry continued his agonizingly slow pumps with the same teasing grin on his face, she knew he was only doing it because he found her getting needy for him adorable and because he wanted to hear her ask him for it. Veda flashed him one of her impish smiles as she batted her eyelashes at him just the way he liked her to.

“Oh Terry, please make my tight perfect little pussy cum for you” Veda coaxed confidently, Terry groaned maintaining her gaze, he increased the pace of his long fingers were pumping inside of her wet heat.

“That’s my good girl” he mused latching his mouth onto her clit, Veda cried out arching her back and curling her toes as she threw her head back against the cushiony duvet covered in flower petals, against another expression of his love and devotion. Terry moaned against her, eating her out feverishly and giving her hand a squeeze to get her attention in her dazed state of ecstasy.

“I’ve got to see that gorgeous face when you cum for me, my sweet girl” he crooned as he halted his starved laps and sucks on her sensitive bud, Veda forced herself to raise her head off of the bed. “Hold on, baby, here” he cooed letting her hand go for a brief moment to move some of the pillows under her shoulders, Veda gave him a dreamy smile and a kiss on the forehead before leaning back to rest against them, lacing her fingers with his once more. Terry flashed her another adoring smile, he placed a few tender kisses against her folds before resuming his hungry laps and sucks, occasionally pulling his finger out of her heat to let his tongue thrust inside of her. Every action withdrew a mess of depraved moans and cries of his name until Veda came to a mind-boggling orgasm, her whole-body trembling as she entered another Terry induced stage of euphoria. As usual Terry replaced her panties gingerly and smoothed out her dress before pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair as he purred sweet nothings in her ear. Veda let out a sigh of contentment as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent with ragged breaths.

“You’re okay, baby” he cooed, Veda pulled away to look at him with a dazed smile on her face, nodding her head animatedly.

“I’m very relaxed now, Romeo, thank you. Would you like me to return the favor” she cooed, peppering his face with kisses as her hands toyed with the button on his shorts. Terry chuckled, placing a kiss on her shoulder, and popping her breasts back into her dress gingerly.

“Oh, baby girl, this was all about making you feel special and showing my appreciation for you. I love worshipping you, seeing you completely spent for me is reward enough for me, you don’t have to return anything.” Terry said sincerely, Veda gave him a loving kiss on the lips.

“I know that, Terry, I want to show my appreciation for you too. You’ve been so patient with me when it comes to intimacy, I don’t mean to keep you waiting like this I know it’s hard for you and I’m sorry. So, returning the favor is really the least I can do” she said, Terry rested his forehead against her looking at her with a serious expression in his eyes.

“Veda, we’ve talked about this baby, waiting for you isn’t hard for me at all, I told you from the start sex and intimacy are completely your decision all I care about is being with you. When you do decide you’re ready, let me know, you deserve to have a special first time, sweetheart and I’d love to be the one to make it as special as you deserve, okay” Terry said with intense earnestness in his voice, still gazing into her eyes as she sat enfolded in his arms while he stroked her dark hair gently the afternoon sun mirrored them, streaming in through the glass door it danced across the flower petals and duvet encircling them in a golden embrace of warmth. Veda relaxed in his hold, her heart swelling with adoration in the purest form, her brown eyes brimming with blissful tears.

“Okay, I’m almost there, I promise.” She said sincerely because she was almost there, she was so close to letting go of all those formidable defenses she had put up those months ago and trusting Terry with her heart, mind, and body. Terry beamed at her, softly placing a kiss on her lips with so much love and tenderness she felt like she might fly.

“I know you are, sweetheart, I promise I’m not going anywhere regardless of if you’re ready to do that or not, okay. I’m afraid I’ve made us almost twenty minutes late for tea. Are you ready to head over to the garden, my beautiful girl?” he cooed, Veda nodded, letting him pull her to her feet. She laced her fingers with his almost immediately as she smiled up at him with rosy cheeks. Terry smiled back at her, giving her a quick but tender kiss on the forehead he grabbed the Nikon off the nightstand and gently guided her out of the cottage.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Terry’s Pov

Terry couldn’t think of time he ever felt as happy as he had in these last few months with Veda by his side and the thought of anyone wanting to keep this from him, to keep her from him, made him unbelievably angry. His efforts to track down Dutch had not gone in vain, Chad as promised was the first stop on his on his spree. Terry started out slow with calculated minor inconveniences like having Chad’s Chevy Camero towed and impounded, stealing or damaging precious items in his puerile bedroom, cutting off half of his picture-perfect golden locks while he laid passed out on his bedroom floor, and totaling his families Princess 45 in the Marina del Rey harbor. All child’s play for Terry really, getting Chad kicked out of Berkley was the real cherry on top of his expertly crafted ploy to corner Chad in a Pasadena alleyway to pummel and maim him. Terry wanted to make Chad suffer ten times more than he made Veda suffer when she sat helpless and ill on a bench on the hottest day LA had seen this summer.

As Terry had expected, Chad Johnson was a complete and utter coward who only had the gall to assault and hit someone if they were a defenseless young woman. Chad was on the ground groveling for mercy before Terry even laid a hand on him, he sat on his knees and confessed his misdeeds like Terry was a benevolent priest who would just forgive his attempt to further traumatize Terry’s precious little angel. Terry quickly figured out Veda was just one of many pretty girls, Chad Johnson had forced himself on. Berkley showed Terry the upmost gratitude for helping them keep their prestigious reputation. Flashing them a copy Chad’s fresh restraining order and a picture of the mark he had left on an innocent doe eyed girl had the school board eating out of the palm of his hand. The dean even went as far as to call up Chad’s parents on speaker phone while Terry was still sat back in the cherry armchair in his office with his arms laying lazily over his lap with a deeply satisfied slightly sinister look in his blue eyes. By the time Terry had cornered Chad in the alleyway his father had kicked him out of the house and confiscated his Chevy Camero, Chad had been alternating between his friends couches for almost two weeks by then. Of course, Chad’s parents were more pissed off by him being kicked out of Berkley and tarnishing the good Johnson family reputation in Encino then they were about him assaulting Veda, but it had served its purpose at least. Aside from Terry putting him in the emergency room for a day, Chad wasn’t going to get accepted into another prestigious establishment with that on his record anytime soon, a real-world life altering consequence for hurting his sweet girl was sure to make the message sink in for him and for Dutch and Tommy. Terry was sure they got it too, but he still intended on taking them out one by one at a spine chillingly slow, calculated pace. Tommy was next on the list and like he had done with Chad, Terry started with minor offences like keying and slashing the tires on Tommy’s brand-new Corvette and damaging several of his mom’s priceless fine China after Tommy threw a little bash while she was out of town.

It was only a matter of time before Terry successfully got Tommy kicked out of Berkley too, he knew the suspense was eating away him and Dutch, Ben and Riley kept him updated after Chad’s unfortunate ‘mugging by a mystery assailant in an alleyway’ and Tommy’s new car being mysteriously damaged. Dutch and Tommy were finally catching to the fact they were being toyed with by someone, but they hadn’t figured out who it was since Daniel LaRusso was out of the country. Terry put his spree on pause to spend the holiday with the love of his life on a secluded romantic getaway before he introduced her into upper class society on Sunday. Once some headlines broke about Terry Silver’s serious committed relationship with a young, gifted beauty, Veda would be even more unobtainable to Dutch than she already was. She didn’t have to vocalize it; Terry just knew the only thing standing in the way of her giving herself to him completely was Dutch. Her fear of Terry abandoning her was replaced with a new fear of Dutch tearing them apart, leaving them to dwell in an existence of deep melancholy until they meet again in their next life or wherever they were going after this. In a true Romeo and Juliet type of fate, Terry was going to do everything he could to prevent that outcome and to erase her fears after this weekend. But for now, Terry was going to do what he did best, make her feel so loved and special Dutch wouldn’t cross her mind for a single second. He’d capture every rosy smile, every adorable pout, every fit of childlike wonder, and every loving doe eyed gaze like his life depended on it because she was his life now, she was his whole world. And she deserved a starring role in all the photo albums he only wanted to fill because of her, to hear her freely express that he was the only one she’d ever consider starting a family with and that she thought he'd be an amazing father to their children made his heart skip a beat just when he didn’t think it was possible to love her any more than he already did.

Terry and Veda spent that walk to the gardens enjoying each other and the beautiful landscapes San Ysidro had to offer. Laughing and practically skipping down cobblestone paths, they happily snapped as many photos of each other as they possibly could, seemingly ignoring the rest of the world in one of their blissful bubbles until they reached the lush colorful resort garden. He held her hand tightly as they walked along the winding cobblestone pathway under the dreamy wisteria laced pergola, he’d surely be taking multiple pictures of her here before they headed back to get dressed for their private group dinner at the Old Adobe. He picked it because he knew Veda would love eating in a California historic landmark even if she for whatever reason disliked his friends, if she said she did Terry wouldn’t hesitate to drop them in a heartbeat. Luckily, that was not the case when they finally strolled up to their tea table a fashionable twenty-five minutes late, Veda, Ian, Gwen, and Anna got along as well as he was expecting and hoping they would. She rightfully hated Simon after he undermined her acceptance into CalTech by vilely implying she must have laid down on the dean’s couch, Terry resisted the urge to knock him silly for Veda’s sake, he resolved to public humiliation. Reprimanding Simon in the middle of the resort gardens with a stony expression and sinister eyes for the all the other guests to see as he calmly told him to enjoy this trip because it would be the last annual trip he was ever going to be invited to. Simon was silent for the rest of the day, only uttering words to the wait staff during their private dinner in the Old Adobe while a very relaxed, happy Veda freely laughed and participated in all their discussions like she’d been a part of their friend groups forever. It was everything Terry had been hoping for and somehow so much more, he had no doubts the gala on Sunday would seem less imposing to her now and that made him happy in a way he couldn't explain.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Veda’s Pov

Veda was relieved to find she actually quite liked Terry’s friends, Ian, Gwen, and Anna were exceptionally warm and welcoming towards her even more so after Simon had all but accused her of sleeping with the CalTech dean of admissions to get accepted. Terry jumped to her aid before he even got the last word out, forever her knight in silver armor always keeping his word. She hadn’t expected him to bar Simon from any future trips, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t happy about it. Simon pretty much refused to speak to anyone after that and after dinner he silently retreated back to Acacia cottage while Anna joined them to watch the orange pink sunset on Kennedy cottage terrace and drink cocktails.

On the morning of the fourth of July Terry and Veda joined the others at the pool for more cocktails, a nice lunch at the Stonehouse restaurant, and another afternoon tea before going their separate ways around dinner time. Veda could tell Terry was getting a little anxious about the evening fireworks, so she decided it’d be a good idea to put their rose petal filled clawfoot bathtub to use, they drank champagne and ate their delicious appetizers while they waited for their room service dinner to arrive. They sat cuddled up in the warm bubbly water, feeding and holding one another with big goo-goo eyes, completely love-struck in a way that was more deeply romantic than overtly sexual.

“Here you go handsome, did Ian tell you what he planned out for his grand proposal” Veda cooed feeding him a mini quiche with a smitten looking smile on her face, Terry placed a loving kiss on her shoulder mirroring her smile back at her with twinkling blue eyes.

“Thank you, my gorgeous girl, Ian whisked her away to one of the hiking trails to see the waterfalls while the staff sets up their cottage for them with a great candlelit dinner and as many red roses as they can fit, I’m not so sure those two will end up heading into to town to see the fireworks after all. Anna told me she’s only taking Simon to see the fireworks so they can talk…” Terry trailed, Veda giggled knowing he wanted her to feed into one his adorable attempts at gossip.

“Waterfalls aw that’s so romantic. Oh, no, a talk. I’m afraid that’s never a good sign is it Mr. Silver, are we talking a splitsville talk or a honey, you forgot to take the trash out again talk” Veda quipped with amused brown eyes, Terry chuckled feeding her a piece of Canapes with an adoring smile.

“We can go see the waterfall tomorrow if you want, sweetheart. Oh, it’s definitely a splitsville talk, Anna has been putting up with Simon’s unsavory remarks and lackluster bedroom performance for a full four years and to top it all off he never popped the question.” Terry quipped; Veda gasped in mock outrage as she popped another mini quiche in his mouth with a playful smile on her lips.

“Four years and no ring, poor Anna wasted four years of her life on a total dud. I’d love to see the waterfall with you tomorrow, Romeo” she cooed happily, she could faintly hear the staff enter the living room to set up their dinner in front of the fireplace as requested. Terry captured her with a sweet tender kiss.

“We can definitely do that tomorrow before dinner at the Veranda. I believe they’re setting up our dinner for tonight, my angel, do you want to bundle up in the bathrobes or do you want a pair of your cute pjs” he cooed, Veda placed her finger on her chin in playful contemplation, she knew which Terry wanted her to pick but she was getting a bit cold.

“How about I wear the robe over my pjs until I’m nice and warm in front of the fire, Romeo” she said coyly, Terry chuckled placing a playful kiss on her nose as he gently moved the bath tray out of the way as he stood up to step out of the bath.

“That’s a great choice, baby, here” he said helping her to her feet, he tenderly wrapped a fluffy towel around her goosebump ridden body before gingerly lifting her out of the tub and onto the heated bathroom floor. “I’m going to grab your pjs, you stay here and let your feet warm up, baby girl” he cooed, wrapping a towel around his waist, and shuffling to the bedroom he came back shortly after wearing emerald, green silk pajama pants and his bathrobe still open and baring his chiseled torso. Terry gazed at her with a bashful smile tugging on his lips he held up a brand-new short silk emerald, green nightgown with lace detailing over the breast cups and matching panties. Veda blushed with a timid smile playing on her face.

“I don’t remember that being in my bag, Romeo.” She said teasingly, Terry chuckled giving her a soft kiss on the forehead his eyes still tinkling in the warm romantic bathroom lighting.

“That’s because it was in my bag, I like when we wear matching outfits, may I help you put them on…” he trailed with the same bashful looking smile, Veda giggled nodding her head eagerly in confirmation.

“Yes, you may, you may also carry me to the living room” she chirped, loving the way his face lit up Terry gently unwrapped her towel from her body and took a few minutes to admire her bare body aimlessly running a finger the curve of her left hip.

“So gorgeous” he hummed softly, bending down to help her step into the soft lace panties he slowly glided them up her legs and thighs, he his fingers gently caress her skin before settling them on her hips he drew a few soothing circles. Before repeating the action as, he pulled her arms through the nightgown armholes tenderly, letting his fingers dance upon her skin as he slid the rest of the gown over her head, the gown waterfalled over her breasts swiftly. Terry gave her an adoring smile as he helped her into her rope tying it securely around her waist, Veda mirrored his smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck, Terry scooped her off the heated tile floors with ease.

“Onward my noble silver steed” she cooed playfully, Terry rolled his eyes letting out a deep amused chuckle as he carried her out of the bathroom and into the living room where their dinner, a bottle of red wine, and a warm crackling fire awaited them.

“Alright, my princess, where would you like to sit” he cooed in her ear with a sweet smile playing on his lips. Veda smiled back at him with rosy cheeks and a beaming smile.

“On your lap of course, Romeo. So, we can keep feeding each other” she said sweetly, Terry eagerly sat down on one of cushions placed on the floor with a beaming smile of his own. He poured them each a glass of wine before getting to work, spearing a piece of her herb crusted lamb, he brought the fork up to her lips. Much like he did at the roof top place, it was hard for Veda to believe that was only a month and half ago because to her it felt like ages. Time seemed to move differently when she was with Terry sometimes, she couldn’t remember what her life was like before he was in it and now that she was so deeply in love with him, she couldn’t bear to think about what her life might look like if she lost him. She didn’t think there was any feasible way for her to exist in the world without him now that she knew what loving him felt like.  

“Here, baby girl” he cooed, Veda accepted the food with a beaming smile and rosy cheeks. Veda flashed him a sweet smile as she speared some of his honey glazed chicken, she brought the fork up to his lips and like always Terry met her halfway. They continued feeding each other as they shared one of their many wordless conversations between bites of food, sips of wine, and kisses on the cheek basking in the glow of the crackling fireplace in their own little personal Eden for a long time. In fact, their moment was so long they forgot what day it was, their comfortable silence was soon hindered by the loud rumbling booms of the intrusive warlike fireworks display over Stearns Wharf, a measly six miles away from San Ysidro Ranch. Veda could see the faint colorful flashes of light flooding in though the patio door windows for a second, she thought she felt the rumbles vibrate through the cottage floors but then she remembered what or rather who she was sitting on. Her eyes darted to Terry just as he dropped the fork in his hand, her heirloom beets left a deep purple red stain on the white bathrobe she was wearing but she was too concerned with her Romeo to care. Terry’s face had gone a ghostly shade of white and his eyes glazed over in a way that made her think he had left his still trembling body.

“Terry” she said in a soft but frantic tone as she reached up to caress his cheek gingerly, not wanting to startle him with the sounds of surrounding fireworks still aggressively flooding in through the cottage walls. Terry didn’t reply, still staring off in what she could only assume was the dark brooding jungles of Vietnam, his mind lost in a dark distant memory.

“Terry” Veda cried a bit louder this time, but it seemed to have much of the same effect or lack there off. Veda nibbled on her lip nervously as she reached behind him to pull his raven curls out of their confines, raking her small fingers through it in an attempt to bring him back to her, she’d read up on a few grounding techniques in case something like this happened. Simulating the five senses as a means to pull his mind out of a dark traumatic spiral seemed easy enough for her to manage if she could get him to a place where he was at least talking. The passes she was making through his soft dark curls seemed to help a bit because Terry’s blue eyes met hers, they were no longer glittering with happiness, instead they were now flooded with waves of anguish and melancholy. Veda was relieved to see at least a glimpse of some sort of recognition in them, his blue orbs softened a bit as they swept over her face in way that made her think he was trying to figure out if she was real. His left arm was wrapped tightly around her waist and his right hand trailed down the length of her cheek delicately.

“There’s an angel in here John” he said in the form of a meek sounding whisper, Veda’s eyes softened as she registered what he said, her heart was still heavy with concern, but she could at least work with what he gave her. Her fingers were still raking through his dark curls as she leaned in to place a soft peck on his cheek.

“No, Terry, my name is Veda, remember” she said softly, Terry’s body stiffened a bit as he stared back at her and let his hand drop from her face with a small flash of fear in his eyes. Veda calmly gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and laced the fingers of her free hand with his.

“Veda are you here to take me to Ponytail” he asked in a shaky voice, Veda calmy shook her head, smiling back at him softly trying to handle this with as much care as she possibly could.

“No, Terry, I’m going to take you to the bedroom so we can cuddle, you’re safe with me. Come on” Veda coaxed, slowly rising to her feet and gently gripped his other trembling hand in hers, Terry looked up at her with hesitant eyes before slowly rising to his feet. Veda smiled reassuringly she walked backwards to maintain his gaze and draw soothing circles on the backs of his large shaky hands, guiding him gently into the master bedroom and over to the king-sized canopy bed. 

“Why don’t you lay down so I can make the room safe for us” she said gently urging him to lay back in the middle of the king size canopy bed and reluctantly let his hands go. Terry nodded in acknowledgment, seemingly more alert but still on defense, he watched her flick on the fairy lights spun around the bed post with wary childlike blue eyes. Veda sighed sadly, he almost looked at her like she was a stranger as she shuffled about the room at a slow pace so she wouldn’t frighten him further. She shut the bedroom and bathroom doors softly and flicked on the tv in an attempt to drown out some of the aggressive fireworks. Before lowering all the window and patio door shades and rushing back towards the bed. Terry’s eyes were squeezed shut as he laid upon the plush duvet his body still vibrating, Veda sighed softly, she swore she actually felt her heart break just seeing him this vulnerable.

“Terry, I’m done making the room safe for us so I’m going to lay down with you now. Is that okay?” she cooed, Terry’s eyes flew open sharply taking in her form at the edge of the bed with wary captivated blue eyes. Veda held his gaze while she peeled off her white bathrobe, tossing it lazily on one of the armchairs before sitting next to him softly on the bed. Terry’s eyes traveled over the dark green nightgown like he was trying to pinpoint where he had seen it before.

“Thank you for the nightgown, Terry. I like matching with you too, green is one of my favorite colors. It’s also very soft, like my hair, see” she said, gingerly guiding one of his hands to the ends of her hair Terry’s blue eyes softened a bit raking his fingers through her thick black waves on instinct. Veda reached out to mirror him, gingerly raking her finger through his soft dark curls while she stared at him intently his blue eyes were still trained on her face looking slightly bewildered. Veda smiled back at him softly, she had successfully tackled his sense of sight and touch, he was at least focused on her now even if he didn’t seem to know who she was at the moment, still lost in the jungles of Vietnam. She could think of a few things to say to get the gears turning in his head but maybe the best thing for right now was just to comfort him, luckily, she knew exactly how to do that now.

“Terry, I’m going to lay down by you now, okay. You can keep playing with my hair of course, Romeo” she cooed, she guided him to wrap his free arm around her waist before lowering herself to lay on part of his body like she usually did. Veda rested her cheek against his collarbone and tangled her fingers in his dark hair again, looking up at him with deeply loving eyes, she started singing to him just as the last hurrah of the belligerent 4th of July finale was rattling the walls. Terry, although still trembling, listened to her sing with adoration and recognition flooding back into his eyes and his arm tightened its hold around her waist. The harsh booming noises slowly died down and the walls stopped rattling as they laid tangled together in an intimate solace with Veda’s dulcet tune sounding over the dull chatter of whatever was playing on the tv and throughout the still room.

“Oh, my Veda” he breathed out, tangling his long fingers through her thick waves Terry bowed slightly to rest his forehead against hers. Veda continued her lullaby for him long after the fireworks stopped vibrating the cottage and Terry’s body had relaxed beneath her completely. Slowly slipping back into their personal bubble with loving gazes and tender passes through the other’s hair. Terry sighed in contentment, having finally come back to her after his trip through the haunting trenches of Vietnam he gazed at her with adoring devoted blue eyes as he placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. Veda ceased her singing to pull him into a tender kiss still raking her fingers through his soft dark curls with great tenderness as she stared back at him with just as much devoted adoration.

“Thank you, my sweet girl. I love you” Terry whispered; Veda caressed his cheek with a soft smile tugging on her lips before she trailed her hand delicately down the length of his bare chiseled chest. Terry gave her a soft smile and another kiss on the tip of her nose.

“And I love you, you don’t have to thank me, my love. I’ll always protect you; I’ll always take care of you” she cooed his declaration back to him with sincere brown eyes. Terry caressed her cheek softly and pulled her in for a long, tender loving kiss before pulling away to gaze deeply into her eyes again. Veda smiled softly at him still gently trailing her hand up and down his chest in comforting passes. “How are you feeling, my love? Is there anything I can get you?” she cooed giving him a soft peck on the cheek, Terry shook his head with a sweet smile dancing on his face, his blue eyes were twinkling again, and Veda felt a wave of relief pass through her. She wished there was something she could do to keep that amount of melancholy from ever flooding his beautiful eyes again.

“No thank you, baby girl, you’ve done so much for me already, I’m just sorry you had to see me like that but I’m okay now, thanks to you.” Terry said softly, Veda shushed him looking at him as seriously as he looked at her yesterday, when she had apologized for keeping him waiting as she reached up to cradle his face in her small hands.

“That’s not something you have to apologize for Terry, it’s okay. I told you; you could tell me anything, that you could show me all your demons and open all your boxes and we would handle them together. I meant that, I love you, I love every part of you, and this is a part of who you are and that’s okay. It’s going to take a lot more than this to scare me away, okay, my love. You’re always safe with me” Veda said wholeheartedly, gingerly stroking his cheeks with her thumbs hoping he could see the love and sincerity swilling in her eyes. Terry smiled back at her dreamily, shaking his head in acknowledgement as he turned to kiss the palm of one of hands.

“I know, baby girl, thank you so much. Are you still hungry, I know I cut our dinner a little short, but I can have them bring us some fresh food” he cooed, finally sounding like his normal doting self. Veda giggled shaking her head at him she gave him a playful kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Terry Silver, I’m the one taking care of you right now, I want you to just relax, okay. So, are you still hungry, what can I do to help you get comfortable?” she chided softly, Terry chuckled under his breath at her with amusement swirling in his twinkling blue eyes.

“No, baby, I’m not hungry and all I want to do right now is snuggle up and hold you” he crooned, Veda smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips before she let go of his face.

“That I can definitely do for you, Romeo. Here let’s get under the covers, hmm” she cooed, Terry chuckled standing up for a moment to help her roll down the duvet as he eagerly slides his bathrobe off, tossing it lazily on one of the armchairs before crawling into bed next to her. Veda smiled softly, gently urging him to lay down while she moved to pull the covers up and over them.

“How would you like to cuddle, my love?” Veda asked softly as she laid her head down on a pillow, Terry smiled rolling over on his side he draped an arm over her, gently tangling his hand in her dark hair. Veda rolled over and instinctively inched closer to him pressing her body against his she placed her hand on his cheek she rested her forehead against his.

“Like this, sweetheart, I just need to see something good right now and you’re so angelic, Veda, so lovely, so beautiful, so sweet. I love you so much” he crooned, giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, Veda smiled melting into him as she felt her heart swell with an overwhelming amount of love and joy.

“I love you too, Terry” she said, looking deep into his eyes she began to sing to him once again, over the faint chatter of the tv. She didn’t stop until Terry’s eyes fluttered shut and his breathing came out in slow deep sighs. Veda placed a soft kiss on his lips before drifting off to sleep.

[skellebonez]

Since it's been a while since I prompted you, 38/51 for Traffic Light Trio and Spicynoodleshipping?

It’s also been a while since you... sent this... I am getting through my prompts slowly but surely! Hopefully the wait was worth it, it has been a while since I have written TLT or SpicyNoodles alone so this was really enjoyable! I apparently missed this more than I realized as this is quite long! (There are references to a past fill as well, but this can be read stand alone.)

If you move from that spot, so help me, I will tie you down/Can you two save the kissing for later?

“For the love of- stop trying to get up Noodle-Brain!” Red Son snapped, albeit more with exasperated worry than anger this time. “You’re only going to make it worse!”

“No, really, I’m fine!” Xiaotian insisted, moving to once again attempt to stand.

He was not fine and his face soon came into contact with an impromptu date with Red Son’s open palm, catching him before he landed on the floor instead. Normally Xiaotian would have pulled his face back with a muttered "sorry" or "thanks" or "wow Red that was shockingly nice of you".

Instead he groaned and allowed himself to just kind of... hang there, his weight being held by that palm that probably felt oddly normal temperatured to him at the moment. Understandable given that his face was flushed red and that even to Red's naturally warmer body temperature touch he felt overheated in fever.

This was not quite the sight Red Son had expected to see when he had ventured out into the city on his own, just wanting to have some kind of time away from his work to gather his thoughts about... well, a lot of things. Ever since the entire fiasco with the Lunar New Year festival his mind had been wandering back toward when he worked with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao and things that happened afterwards.

He still had the phone he had accidentally kept from the green dragon and they had talked a few times. More than a few times. ... ok, maybe they had been texting near daily and had calls every other night and maybe he started watching her streams out of curiosity, and maybe he had been added to a group chat with the Noodle Boy and started to text him too, but he didn't really have anyone else to talk to outside of the his parents and Bull Clones! They were still enemies, just friendly ones! Frenemies! And it had been... nice. To talk to someone who seemed interested in what he wanted to say. And maybe understood him a little. Maybe possibly... didn't actually dislike him as much as he had believed initially.

... and maybe Red Son was deluding himself when he said he didn't actually like either of them, but that was neither here nor there! His thoughts were getting away from him!

The point was thus- he'd gone into the city for a break with the intention of heading to his private apartment he had for such occasions, happened upon one Noodle Boy laying face down on the seat of his (otherwise empty and clearly not being used for work that day) delivery vehicle looking absolutely miserable and burning up, and against his better judgment he took him back to said apartment. That was shockingly easy considering Xiaotian was pretty much passed out due to the high fever combined with his moving around and the fact Red Son could lift the vehicle himself if he wanted to (he didn't, he just took the keys with them so no one would make off with it).

And so that was how Red Son found himself in this predicament. In his apartment with the AC on just enough to be slightly uncomfortable, one sick Monkie Kid doing his best to remove himself from his couch with a cold compress on his forehead while insisting he was fine when he clearly was not, debating on whether or not he should have taken this dumbass to the hospital instead. If only because he was being frustrating to keep still.

"You are most clearly not 'fine', now lay back down," Red Son said with a warning growl, pushing his rival (gently, he wouldn't be so callous as to kick someone while they were down like this) back into the mound of pillows he had laid out for him. He never had visitors so he may as well make the best of this and pull out what he had in storage so they could be used for once. "If you move from that spot, so help me, I will tie you down."

"... ok," Xiaotian finally acquiesced, closing his eyes and laying back into the plush around him and looking even worse than he had before he had been trying to convince the other he was fine. (Though had he not looked clearly sick the sight would have been almost cute to-NO! Red was not going to think that.)

Red Son didn't know what precisely was wrong with him, though based on his symptoms and reactions it was likely a basic but now out of control flu (regardless, he knew he himself was in little to no danger of most human illnesses) and helping him recuperate here (because no one except Red Son was allowed to defeat the Monkie Kid, not even an illness!) was looking like a more reasonable idea now. But he couldn't help but wonder how had the other man allowed himself to get this bad. Why had he even gone outside in his state? He wasn't working, his lack of normal uniform or delivery orders was evidence enough of that, so it wasn't as if he had been forced to go out by his boss. Was he just too stubborn? Did he think he would be ok for a few minutes and not realize he was this ill? The delivery boy was of no help in that regard, brushing off every attempt from the fire demon to learn the answers to those questions. He wasn't delirious, he just refused to answer!

So instead of trying to push again Red Son sighed and stood up. When Xiaotian opened his eyes to look at him in curiosity he frowned at the deep dark bags under them (had he ever been sleeping?) and the dull sheen they seemed to have before he held his hand up in a "stop" motion.

"You stay right there. I meant that threat. I am going to be back in 10 minutes. Do not test me..." Red stood, lifting both his arms for a moment before giving the other another glance. "And don't, uh... die, I guess."

And then Red was gone in a wave of his arms and a flash of fire.

~

He landed at the entrance to a nearby convenience store, not somewhere one would normally think he would frequent but convenience was convenience. And they had very good coffee to grab when he ran out in his apartment. Yes, he was a Villain with a capital V and could just torment the staff for free goods... but he knew that if he did that long enough the stores would start causing him trouble or close down and that would negate the convenience.

No, it wasn't because the first cashier that greeted him was willing to pay for his goods believing he had forgotten his wallet and thus felt guilty for his first attempt at doing so. And he would deny that until the day he died.

That wasn't his goal for the day, however. Red Son may not get ill the way humans did, but it felt useful to him to know how how to treat the more common ailments in the event his family may be forced to work with one. So he grabbed a basket and made a quick beeline straight for the nearest aisle with medicine.

In even less than the 10 minutes he cited he had a basket filled with flu medicine, more cold compresses, soup broth, and much more. Yes, all of this was absolutely necessary. He didn't care that much about his nemesis, he just wouldn't let an illness make him weak. Nope. That was the only reason. Nothing else. He totally wasn't caring for someone he considered a friend, he didn't have friends, not even Xiaojiao was a-

"Red?"

Crap.

"What are you doing standing in line at a convenience store?" Xiaojiao asked, and as Red turned back to her he saw that she had... some very similar items in her own basket, plus some comics. At his eyes widened in realization she looked down at his own basket and sighed. "... either this is a very interesting coincidence or Xiaotian did something he shouldn't have."

~

Red entered his apartment through the door, the noise rousing the apparently lightly sleeping man on his couch.

"Red? You're back alrea-!?" Xiaotian snapped his mouth shut as he turned his head and opened his eyes to see the wide smiling face of a, clearly to someone who knew her well, angry Xiaojiao. "... I'm in trouble aren't I?"

"Oh you have no idea," she replied lightly, setting down the snacks and books and other assorted items she had purchased while Red made his way into the kitchen with his purchases. "I told you I would be at your apartment with stuff after I finished covering your shift for you, so would you like to explain why Red Son found you nearly passed out in your tuk-tuk half way to the nearest store?"

Though her words were sharp and snappy, it was clear to the listening Red that they were so in genuine concern for her friend. There was a mutter from Xiaotian and a questioning sound from Xiaojiao before the man cleared his throat and repeated himself.

"You already helped me out... I just wanted to try to get that stuff myself so you wouldn't have to do more. I was feeling pretty ok until I drove for a while..."

Ah. So that explained it. Xiaotian had just been going out for medication himself. Not the best idea with a fever of his magnitude, but understandable if he believed he could handle something that simple. Red had begun to wonder if he had been trying to head to Flower Fruit Mountain with bow evasive he was being, but this was a much less disastrous answer.

"Xiaotian, you're my best friend," he heard Xiaojiao say in a much softer tone, and there was the sound of the shuffling on the couch. "I wanted to help you, it didn't matter to me how much it was. I've helped you get to Flower Fruit Mountain and kick demon ass! A delivery shift or two and a convenience store run is something I'd do in a heartbeat. Now open your mouth, I grabbed a thermometer so we can see how bad off you actually are."

There was an agreeable sound and a chuckle, then silence as Red continued what he had been doing. Taking out a dose of medication and preparing something for Xiaotian to eat. Or, rather, drink along side the tea he was also preparing for himself and Xiaojiao. It was little more than chunks of tofu and soup broth with some mild flavoring, something simple and easy to make and eat while sick and-

Red Son held his face in his hands and groaned softly as he waited for the broth to warm. What was he doing? His greatest enemies were in his living room, one sick with fever, and he was preparing medicine and food for him. Frenemies? Only he could defeat them? Is that really what he was telling himself to justify his actions? That they were friend-enemies and they were his to beat?

That was a bold faced lie and he knew it. Had known it for a while. Maybe since he first called Xiaojiao just to speak with someone who would listen to him. Maybe since he first watched her stream in curiosity. Certainly, though, since he accepted being added to the group text she had named "Traffic Light Trio" (really? What kind of name that that?). He would have never done that had he not considered them his friends, he knew that deep down. He just didn't want to admit it (and he super did not want to admit that he maybe felt his own face warm up when they complimented him or that he had butterflies in his stomach the off times they called him by nicknames).

As he turned off the now lightly boiling broth and set it to the side to cool, Red Son began to admit to himself that maybe he was just as much of a dumbass as the Noodle Boy. It seemed that out of the three of them Xiaojiao had firm hold on the only available brain cells when it came to interpersonal relationships.

But that train of thought was not helpful at the moment, so he pushed it down (deeeeeeep down) as he gathered everything up and made his way to the couch again.

The sight that greeted him gave him pause Xiaojiao sitting on the arm of the couch and running a hairbrush through Xiaotian's tangled hair, Xiaotian looking slightly better thanks to the compress against his forehead and smiling softly against the pillows.

There were those butterflies. Oh. Red Son had it bad.

"So?" He asked, drawing their attention to himself as he sat everything on the nearby table. "How bad is it?"

"Not enough to take him to a doctor yet," Xiaojiao answered with a chuckle as she hopped down. "Though I think what you did before helped with that."

Red flushed a bit himself in response, grumbling under his breathe as he shoved the medicine and a cup of water into Xiaotian's hands. "WELL. Take this and. Maybe it’ll stay that way!" He attempted to sound as snappy as normal but the looks on both his guests faces told him he failed miserably in that regard.

"Thanks, Red," Xiaotian said with an earnest smile, and the butterflies were back and Red Son couldn't help the slight sparking of his hair in response.

"Don't mention it. Ever." He grumbled a bit, taking the cup before sighing and helping Xiaotian sit up straighter. "You shouldn't eat half laying down." He maneuvered the pillows to make a little wall between Xiaotian and a space next to the arm of the couch. A space he quickly occupied himself before handing him the bowl of broth over his shoulder. "So you don't have to move more."

The other two looked at each other with surprise on their faces before Xiaojiao smiled and sat on the other arm as they grew silent. Xiaotian eating, Xiaojiao playing on her phone, and Red... well. He tried to look like he was doing something on "his" phone, the one he took from Xiaojiao and replaced the old case with a showy flame covered one. But in reality he was just sitting there staring into space thinking "holy crap this is happening what have I done what happens next oh crap".

"Hey Red?"

"YES!?" He asked far too loud and quick with a squeak in his voice as his hair flared at Xiaotian's words, clearing his throat before repeating himself in a much more appropriate tone (only to earn a giggle from Xiaojiao).

He felt the other man lean back against him, and before he could even begin to fight his flush on his face he heard him chuckle as well. "I appreciate your help."

"L-like I said... don't mention it..."

Xiaotian chuckled again in reply and sighed, leaning completely against Red Son and as he looked over and down he saw his relaxed face and flushed deeper and... it felt nice.

He wondered why he ever pushed down his feelings before.

Xiaojiao grabbed the dishes with a knowing smirk, heading into the kitchen with a few parting words.

"Can you two save the kissing for later? Maybe when Xiaotian isn't sick?"

Both men flushed as deep as they could and sputtered out denials in response, and if that wasn't an indication that Xiaotian maybe felt similarly to Red as Red did to him...

[booksforevermore13]

The monster within me (doesn't exist)

Summary: "Hate you?" Sirius pulled away and held Remus by his shoulders, "You ass, we could never hate you."

There's an unwritten rule in the stones that the Marauders stick together. No matter what. Remus learns that in his second year.

Author's Note: Just my version of how the Marauder's learn about Remus' furry little problem. Read it on Fanfiction if your prefer!

...

Remus had always loved the wind, for it came so boldly, rousing him to a wakefulness, an alertness, that let him savour each and every moment in the Forest despite the nearing torment.

In soft breezes, finer than silk, and smoother than water, it sang past the trees, sending the dried autumn leaves on a dancing funfair ride, hypnotic and beautiful. The warmth that had been in the wind just last week had either evaporated into the sky or leached into the earth, making way for the beguiling autumn breeze.

If he closed his eyes, he could imagine himself in his mother's garden, listening to the birds chirping away and the slight buzz of the bees come to suck the nectar from his mother's begonias.

But he wasn't there.

Remus grunted as a jolt of pain snapped up his back, numbing his shoulders and sending nervous tingles down his spine. He stopped in his tracks and doubled over as his stomach lurched. His eyes teared up as webs of pain started slithering up his body, flaring up whatever they touched.

He should have gone to the Hospital Wing. The pain had started weeks before it should have and he knew he should have gone and informed Madam Pomfrey as soon as the first aches had started, but he hadn't. He hadn't because James and Sirius had been planning a prank for the last few weeks and Remus couldn't find it in himself to lie to them again, to say he had the flu when it was far from that. He needed a chance at normalcy, a chance at actually feeling human, and in his ridiculously miserable life where things rarely lasted, he needed every chance he could get.

Remus felt his legs give out as he fell on his knees, sure that he had scraped the skin off, but he hardly noticed. A blinding pain had started pulsing in his head, moving across his forehead until it became a constant, growing hum. A shriek left his throat as he collapsed completely, clutching his head, clutching his body as his bones snapped and his ankles turned all the way around, as his spine cracked and he bent backwards.

And then all he knew was pain.

...

White walls and white ceilings.

That's what he woke up to.

How Dickensian.

Remus' eyes ached as he looked around his small confined space, hidden from view by scratchy, white curtains.

Normally, he'd wake up to Madam Pomfrey looking at him, her grey irises tinged with concern and underlying pity. She'd ask how he felt and he'd answer 'fine' even though he felt far from fine, and she'd start fussing over him, giving him a dozen potions one after the other, so that in the end he felt as if he was munching on wet sand and wanted to throw up all over her spotless white curtains.

This time, however, there were no grey irises, no condescending questions and no potions. Nothing even remotely similar to what normally happened.

Remus' throat closed up in dread as he remembered the events of the previous night. He hadn't made it to the Shrieking Shack. He'd… he'd collapsed and… and he had screamed in pain but that was all he remembered.

This… this shouldn't have happened. Had he hurt anyone? Had he hurt…would Dumbledore expel him, now that he'd messed up?

He'd messed up. Merlin, he'd messed up so bad. He should have gone to Madam Pomfrey as soon as the pain had set in. A person like him didn't deserve normalcy, and now due to his own careless whims, someone could have been hurt. What if he had bitten someone?

Remus' breath grew haggard as the thought crossed his mind. He wouldn't be able to bear it if he was the reason someone else got turned. If someone else had to bear what he had to bear every single month. He couldn't have, could he?

Merlin, he felt like a monster. He was a monster.

Remus heard the curtains open and his head snapped to the right, expecting Madam Pomfrey to come hurrying in, her voice drowning out his thoughts as she fussed over him.

Instead, he met with crescent-shaped glasses, blue eyes behind them, but they didn't have the twinkle he associated them with. There was a grave expression on Dumbledore's face and Remus knew almost immediately that he'd ruined everything.

"Did I do something… did I hurt..." Remus managed to croak out, his throat constricted with tears.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus breathed in shakily and nodded as Dumbledore took a seat at the edge of his bed. He couldn't trust himself to talk, or else he knew he'd fall apart for ruining whatever he had left.

"No one was hurt, in answer to your question," Dumbledore said, and Remus let out an inaudible sigh of relief.

"—but I believe this time, it was different. More excruciating, I suspect."

Remus nodded, "I'm sorry I didn't come here earlier, this… this could have been—"

"Mr. Lupin, you were found on the edge of the Forbidden Forest by the centaurs. You were bleeding profusely, and had we not got you here the moment we did, you would not have survived."

Remus gulped, his hands shaking. "Are you going to expel me, Professor?" he asked, feeling sicker by the minute.

Dumbledore looked at him through his glasses, as if he was deciding Remus' fate that very second. "Had a student found you there, then things would have been very different. Calamatic, even. The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds, Mr. Lupin, and yet if you hadn't decided to take that certain path, then I believe there would have been casualties."

"There is no easy way to tell you this, Mr. Lupin, but the events that occurred last night could have gone very badly indeed. Kindly don't hesitate to refer to Madam Pomfrey if and when a situation arises not unlike this one."

When, he said when. Would this happen again?

Remus watched as Dumbledore got up from the bed, still peering at Remus through his thin glasses. He turned around to go, moving the curtains aside slightly, before facing Remus again.

"And no, Mr. Lupin, I will not be expelling you. Not today or anytime soon. We all make mistakes, Mr. Lupin, but this cannot be categorized as one."

Remus could have almost cried in relief, his chest lightening as Dumbledore stepped out of his corner, his robes trailing on the white ground.

Everything seemed to be white around here, much to Remus' distaste.

"I believe you have visitors," he heard Dumbledore's voice across the room, and he frowned, hardly registering what he had said before the curtains were yanked aside and he was met with a set of concerned grey eyes.

"Sirius," he breathed out, his eyes watering as the black-haired boy threw himself against him, hugging him gingerly as though he knew he was hurt.

He didn't, did he? There was no way he could.

"I was so worried," he heard Sirius say. "We met Dumbledore in the corridors and he was going to the Hospital Wing, and you were the only one there so we thought something was wrong and you had become sicker and he was coming—"

"Sirius, I'm fine," Remus said and Sirius let him go, pulling away as he took a seat beside him on the bed. James and Peter stood behind him, identical frowns of concern and question on their faces.

"Are you really?" they asked at the same time, and Remus laughed.

"I am now," he said and he meant it.

...

"Lily's reading the same book," James declared as he took a seat beside Remus.

"What?" Remus craned his head over to where James was sitting, the growing ache in his limbs dull and constant.

"Pride and Prejudice," James frowned, "She's always reading it."

Remus shared a look with Sirius, smiling as they looked at a very pondering James.

"It's her relief book," Remus said knowingly. He'd noticed it too, albeit upon James pointing it out to him, but he'd noticed it and once he noticed something, it became awfully hard for him to unnotice it.

"What's a relief book?"

"Everyone has one," Remus said, before correcting himself. "At least, all readers have one. It's something you turn to when you're stressed or sad or simply want to bash someone's head in a wall."

They were silent for a while and Remus turned to his book, his eyes scanning over the pages, yet nothing registering in his head as he waited for their response.

"What's yours?" Sirius finally asked and Remus frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"What's your relief book?"

Remus thought about it it, the question slightly blowing him off course before he raised the book he was reading.

"War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells," Sirius read off the cover. "What's it about?"

"Aliens." Sirius made a face and Remus hurried to explain himself. "It's about people from outside the planet and people from here, and uhh… it's about destruction and uhh… collateral damage.

Collateral damage. Maybe that's why he liked the book so much. There was a hell lot of collateral damage in it. He was collateral damage. His entire life was collateral damage from a bloody freak accident.

"—are you stressed then?" he heard Sirius ask and closed the book shut.

"No," Remus swallowed. "I just really want to bash someone's head in a wall right now."

"Yeah?" Sirius smirked. "Who?"

"No one you know," Remus replied.

"Is it James?"

"No."

"Is it Peter?"

"No."

"Is it me?"

"Oh, hell no."

"Then is it you?"

Yeah, Remus wanted to say. But he settled on, "No."

…

He didn't see them for hours at a time. He'd come out of Charms by himself, no Sirius joking about Flitwick's moustache, he'd go to lunch alone and there wouldn't be a Sirius urging him to eat an extra piece of chicken or offering him his share of treacle tart.

Remus half thought he'd done something wrong even though Sirius had told him he'd done nothing of the sort.

But he'd been distant lately, turning Remus down for a game of Exploding Snap, avoiding the Common Room when Remus was sitting there, doing his homework, not tagging along as Remus went to the Library.

He'd done something wrong, he knew. He always did something wrong. Messed up everything good that came his way.

He stepped out of the Common Room, sorely missing the company of the other three as he made his way to the Library.

He'd found himself spending less and less time there, for without the company of Sirius who was solely there to get ticked off by Madam Pince, the Library felt too quiet.

And yet, Remus found himself making his way there, his footsteps quick and silent, his shadow appearing to slink across the growingly dark walls.

He pushed open the wooden door, squinting as the golden-yellow rays of the sun fell directly over his eyes, and made his way to his designated corner of the library.

Remus had expected to be the only one there. He almost always was. He'd certainly not expected to come across three overly-familiar figures, two of them poring over a book while the third tried to look over their shoulders.

"Sirius?" Remus heard himself wondering out loud. "Peter? James?"

Their heads snapped over to him, Sirius jerking in surprise as the book fell out of his hand and landed near Remus' feet.

"What-what are you doing here?" Sirius asked, albeit a bit loud as Madam Pince shushed him from her desk.

"I could ask you the same thing," Remus said, hurt brimming in his chest as he bent over to pick up the book. His back ached as he did, and rightly so, because the full moon was approaching and Remus nearly recoiled as his eyes landed on the drawing of a werewolf and then of a man transforming into one.

Panic creeped up his throat as he looked at the three of them, his eyes directly on Sirius' as his mouth moved, but no words came out. "Wha-what's this?" he managed, the book thumping as it fell on the desk.

"Why are you reading about werewolves? It's not in our course yet. W-why then?" Remus asked, his words frantic as he looked at James, Peter and Sirius one by one. They each had a guilty expression on their faces, and deep down, Remus knew they had figured it out.

"It's not… Remus, we… we were just… just," Sirius stuttered. He never stuttered.

Remus breathed in heavily. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry, I didn't, I'm not… I am."

And then he ran out of the library, Sirius's shouts for him to stop unheard by him.

…

"We must remember what ruthless and utter destruction—" Remus's voice cracked and a tear slipped out of his eye, sliding down his cheek and falling on the ground, "our own species has wrought, not only upon animals—" and then he stopped and wiped his tears, but didn't make a move to get up from the ground.

He didn't know why it affected him so much, them knowing. Maybe it was because he didn't want them to know he was a monster, a killer, maybe it was because he didn't want them to be disgusted by him, even though he was disgusted by himself. Or maybe it was simply because after all these years, he couldn't stomach his own identity.

Remus closed his eyes, his eyelids spilling out the tears gathered at the corners.

The daylight had dwindled to a barely perceptible lighting of gloom, and Remus couldn't find it in him to get himself up. His shirt was soaked, the moisture from the moss seeping into his skin, sending slight shivers down his back. Dusk had set and he knew he had to go back but he didn't want to.

He wouldn't be able to bear it when he went back to the castle. Their stares, their terrified stares that showed they were revolted by him. Sirius looking at him as if he was a…a…

Dumbledore would surely throw him out now. He'd already messed up once. Now that they knew, he'd have no choice but leave.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he sobbed, his silent cries seeming to echo among the oak. He hardly heard his name being screamed out, or the footsteps nearing him until his eyes snapped open and he saw a frantic Sirius crouching beside him.

"Everyone's looking for you!" Sirius screamed before lunging towards Remus' lying form, pulling him up in a hug.

Remus flinched, his body tense before he relaxed into Sirius' body.

"Everyone?" he asked, his voice scratchy from all the crying. Everyone? Did everyone know?

Sirius sighed. "Just James and Peter," he said. "We've been looking for you everywhere! Have I ever told you you're an ass?"

And then Remus burst out crying, his sobs loud and torturous, tears rolling down his face and onto Sirius' shoulder. "You hate me now," he cried. "I ruined everything, I can't, I didn't mean to—"

"Hate you?" Sirius pulled away and held Remus by his shoulders. "You ass, we could never hate you."

Remus sniffled as tears fell on the cold, wet ground before he felt nimble fingers lifting his chin up to meet stormy grey eyes he would have recognized anywhere in the goddamn world.

"Remus," Sirius urged. "Remus, we don't care if you're a werewolf, we really don't. For all we know, you have a furry little problem you've to take care of once a month and that's that. Nothing more—"

"I'm a werewolf. You should stay away from me. I could hurt you, I could… I could kill you. You have no idea—"

"Remus, I've seen you in your bloody Mickey Mouse underwear. You couldn't hurt a cockroach if you tried," Sirius said.

"But—"

"If you say we should stay away from you one more time, I'm going to stab you with a rusty knife," Sirius said fiercely. "You are a Marauder. There's an unwritten rule in the stones that Marauders stick together. No matter what."

Sirius hauled himself up, before offering a hand to Remus, who looked at it for a few seconds before gingerly taking it.

"And going off to the Forbidden Forest? That sounds like something I would do, which means you shouldn't," Sirius said, before sighing heavily. "Your back is wet, did you know?"

Remus nodded, shrugging to get his wet shirt loose when he felt Sirius drape his sweater over his back.

"You need it more than I do," he said as Remus gave him a questioning look.

Remus gave a watery chuckle before they lapsed into a comfortable silence, navigating through the woods by the dimming light of the sun.

"We have a plan," Sirius said a few minutes later. "A plan to help you when you transform."

"It won't work—"

"Shh," Sirius glared playfully. "Why do you think we've been in the library all week? The library. Me in the library. People should pay to see me there."

"Sirius," Remus said exasperatedly.

"Shh," Sirius glared. "Don't be such a sour wolf."

"A what?"

"A sour wolf," Sirius repeated with the most serious expression Remus had seen on him yet. "And fair warning, if James decides to kill you for being an ass, don't blame me. I'm innocent."

Remus laughed, a real laugh this time.

"That's not fair at all," he said softly as the school grounds came into view.

Maybe he couldn't bear being a werewolf, maybe he was a monster and maybe he wasn't, but he had Sirius by his side, and James, and Peter, and as crazy they were, hell, he was crazy too but he was glad he had them. They were part of his life, and a colossal part too, but they were there and he was happy.

[futurewriter2000]

Intricacy on String - pt.9

A/N: Can somebody tell me where my angst touch went?! Like forreal I used to write such good angst and now this- what is this! I’m gonna write so much angst until I AM PLEASED! 

XX

You sat at your table, staring down at the Gryffindor table where there were all gingers except one. Pulling on your fingers, you chewed your lower lip and stood up. 

He’s in his dorm. He is in his dorm...

...and by now so are you. 

You don’t know how you got there but it’s been days and you haven’t seen him. You haven’t heard from him. You haven’t asked about him either. 

Lifting your hand to knock, you felt your heartbeat escelate. Open. No, not open. Knock and open. 

He’s Fred. He is your best friend. He is somebody you are in love with for years of knowing him. He could have just got sick-

“Who are you lying to?” you sighed, dropping your head to your side and leaning your back on the door and with a second, falling onto the floor. “Ouch...” you let out a groan, finding yourself staring at the ceiling of his room. 

You could feel something move on your right.

Silence. 

Bed cracking.

Footsteps approaching.

Waiting, rock solid on the ground with your eyes wide and stuck on a ceiling, a red head popped in front of you, eyes brown, choclate as always. 

“You always seem to make quite an entrance.” he smiled, wrinkles by the corners of his lips as he put the chips between his knees and offered you his hand. 

Perplexed as you were, you took his hand and were pulled onto your feet. When you were standing, he grabbed the chips and walked back to his bed. 

You stood there, solid, awkward? - Maybe a little but so far so good. 

He stopped before his bed and threw his chin over his shoulder. “You coming?” 

“Uh-” your breath got caught in your throat and you quickly mumbled something. “Uh, yeah.” you dragged your feet to his bed and sat oppposite of him, playing with your fingers, chewing on your lip... 

“So you and Bash, then.” he threw chip in his mouth and grinned. “Thought you didn’t like that chap.” he continued to speak quite casually. 

“I didn’t.” you shook your head. 

What was happening? He’s acting as if... as if yesterday? - What? 

You looked up at him. “When he kissed me you ran off?” you furrowed your eyebrows. 

He laughed and grabbed and dug into the bag of chips again. “Yeah, sorry about that. My stomach was doing flip flops all day and then when I spun you around, I really had to go throw up.” he lied. He lied perfectly through his teeth as if you sitting in front of you, telling him about that night didn’t tear up his heart in all directions. 

You’re his best friend. He should be happy for you. It tore his heart and it tored yours as well. 

“Oh...” you looked away, pulling your knees to your chins. 

How dense could you have been to believe that Fred Weasley might be in love with you? It’s honestly such a laugh, right? Here you thought he got jealous after seeing you and Perry kissing last night when in reality he got the stomach flu. 

It almost made you cry and laugh at the same time. 

Perry was right. You were waiting for someone else to love you, someone you had absolute no chance with. He was right in front of you, smiling and eating chips, recovering from his stomach flu. 

But now you have somebody who loves you and he is waiting for you. He promised you happiness and how he said it, you knew he meant it. He waits patiently for you as you figure out your feelings and now you did. 

Fred Weasley does not love you. At least, not in the way you want him to but somebody else does. Why should you wait for something that was never there? 

Fred Weasley has never loved you the way you loved him. It was sad and heartbreaking but it gave you clarity of yourself. 

Perry and you have something and that something is worth to explore but now? Despite everything, you have to make sure. 

 “Hey.” he put his hands on top of yours, bringing you back from your thoughts with his warm touch, eyes gazing into yours with comfort. “I’m happy for you, okay.”

“Are you?” you asked, searching for anything... a frown, a flicker in his eyes, a movement of his eyebrows...

“If you’re happy, (y/n). I’m happy with you.” he said and without a thought you climbed over to him and hugged him so tight, tears falling down your cheeks and onto your hands as you wrapped them tight around his neck, digging your mouth and nose into it from preventing any sobs for him to hear. 

“Thank you.” you forced yourself to say, heart aching and tearing so painfuly you thought it was peeling itself off. His hands wrapped themselves around you, his nose digging into your shirt as he crumbled the fabric with his hands on your back. 

“For what?” you heard him mumble into you.

“For being my best friend.” more tears fell down your eyes and you wiped them against your skin on your arms. 

He can’t see you cry. He can’t know. 

You pulled away, kissing his forehead and moving yourself away from his hold. 

You wanted to scream of how much you dreaded walking away. Walking away from the hold that makes you feel every atom in existance. You were turned back to him. You wished he wouldn’t see you with tears in your eyes because if he did, he would know something was wrong.

So despite the tight squeeze in your throat, despite the heaviness of your heart, you grabbed your jacket and walked away. “I have to run now! Got some Quidditch meeting.” you ran to the door, not once turning back to him. “But I’ll talk to you later!” you continued to keep your voice cheery opening the door and bolting out. 

Out of his room, out of the stupid dormitory, out into- 

You looked up? “Lee?” you saw your eyes set on broad yet familiar chest. 

“Ola, (y/n).” he grinned, furrowing his eyesbrows as his eyes set on yours. “Are you alright?” he asked, his hands resting on your shoulders. 

“Yeah. Peachy as always.” you forced yourself to smile and laugh. “Just saw a pack of birds hatch and it was beautiful. You know how sentimental I can get.” you laughed but he didn’t believe a word that came out of your mouth. 

Your voice was so fake, it could create a plastic bottle. “No, I don’t really.”

 Torturing. You wanted to explode and he was here keeping you behind and asking you questions you were unstable to answer. 

“Lee, I have a Quidditch meeting in 2 minutes.” you snapped harshly and pushed past him, slamming your hand over your mouth as the tears in your eyes blurried your vision. 

It hurt. It hurt you so much you couldn’t keep it inside anymore. 

You ran away, far away, until you were alone... until your legs went numb and you had to collapse on the floor, burrying yourself into an ocean of tears. Hurting. 

---

“For what?” he mumbled into your shirt, feeling his tears blur out his vision as his fingers continued to cramp around your shirt, twisting it around, crumbling it because he couldn’t squeeze you hard, becuase he had to resist every urge in his body to not keep you in his arms forever. 

“For being my best friend.”

It sliced directly through the middle of his heart. Tears that gathered in his eyes, those tears fell down his cheeks like a waterfall. He couldn’t help it. It hurt. It hurt, ached, stung- 

He had to clench his jaw. He had to grit his teeth so hard they almost broke. He wanted to keep you in his arms yet he was numb by the pain that he wanted to let you go and stop the torment. 

He didn’t even know when you left. He just knew you were happy. You sounded happy. 

He wasn’t happy. 

He curled up in his bed and brought the smallest pillow in his bed to his nose, pressing his whole face into it and sobbing. The pillow was drenched and Fred could barely breathe. He could hear Lee’s footsteps approaching the door so he quickly wiped everything and covered himself. 

“Hey, mate. Feeling any better?” he walked past him and to his own bed. 

“Just runny nose.” Fred said, reaching for some tissues and wiping off. 

“Reckon you can make me sick before my AP exam?” he chuckled, grabbing some of his books. 

“Doubt it.” Fred sat up and looked at his mate with glistened eyes. 

“Bloody hell, Fred. You really got the flu, don’t you?” Lee gasped, staring at him. “Your eyes are-”

“I know.” Fred forced a laugh. “Can’t shake it off.” he bew into another tissue, grabbing another. “I’ll go to sleep, alright.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll make some cheat notes.” Lee winked and started scribbling down as Fred layed back on to his side, facing away from his roomate and staring at the drawer. 

That same drawer, filled with your letters. 

Vision blurry, heart scarring... that’s what it was. He was hurting. 

[gusu-emilu]

sometimes I forget (2/3)

chapter two: grieve what I happen to grieve

Ship: Jiang Cheng / Wen Ning

Summary: Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng travel to Dafan Mountain to find the cure to Lan Wangji’s fever. Their animosity results in a very strained partnership, which only becomes more complicated when Jiang Cheng develops the fever too. But along the way, they address the scars that haunt them and find something new in each other.

< Ch. 1 | Ch. 3 > | Art

Post-Canon, Rated T - read on AO3 or on Tumblr below

Wen Ning stood up. “I-I’d like to visit the memorial I made with A-Yuan. I’ll be back soon.”

Jiang Cheng grunted with indifference.

Wen Ning headed out, but he had only taken a few steps when he heard, “Wen Qionglin.”

He turned back to Jiang Cheng, who had now opened his eyes.

“I’ll come with you.”

“Take care of yourself,” Wen Ning said. “That’s what you should do.”

They fell silent for a few moments, staring at each other.

Reluctantly, Jiang Cheng reached out to receive Sandu. “Fine. I won’t fly.” He turned abruptly and strode down the forest path.

Walking the rest of the way did not cost too much time. The village on Dafan Mountain was closer than they realized.

At first, Jiang Cheng’s only noticeable symptoms of the Four-Sunsets Flu were a slight temperature and haggard breathing. But by the time they reached the foot of the mountain, Jiang Cheng’s skin was slick with sweat, his hands shook, his knees gave out.

They still had a tall summit to climb. Jiang Cheng was not strong enough for it.

Knowing Jiang Cheng would be too stubborn to agree to wait behind, Wen Ning said, “Let me carry you.”

Jiang Cheng pressed his sword into the dirt like a cane, his limbs wobbling. Beads of sweat appeared at his temples. “I’d sooner die than let you carry me twice in one night.”

This did not offend Wen Ning. Nothing much out of people’s mouths did anymore. Yet, he realized, his usual desensitization was not why this time, he didn’t mind the harsh words.

It was because behind all the spite, there was humor in Jiang Cheng’s voice. Dark and bitter, but still humor.

Wen Ning did not know what to do with that.

“It’s morning now,” he found himself saying. “So it doesn’t count.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed and started up the mountain trail. He struggled after just a few steps, his legs uncooperative, his brow knitted.

Wen Ning watched from below, waiting for him to give up.

He was soon forced to a stop. Jiang Cheng clutched the mountain terrace on the side of the trail and hunched over, his breath unsteady. He shot a glare down at Wen Ning that looked like he wanted to hurl rocks at him.

“Will you agree?” Wen Ning said as he easily scaled the slope.

“Just get it over with.”

Instead of carrying Jiang Cheng bridal style like before, this time Wen Ning carried him on his back. A piggyback ride did not have the chance of eye contact. Less awkward.

But this was an even more vivid reminder of the night he rescued Jiang Cheng from Lotus Pier. This was exactly how Wen Ning had carried him.

The pressure of Jiang Cheng’s weight was different—partly because Jiang Cheng was much older now, partly because everything felt different as a fierce corpse—but the sensation was still too similar to be comfortable.

They reached the summit.

Hazy orange-blue light of the morning’s earliest hours crept through the sky and cloaked the village. The Dafan Wen residence was a phantom of its former self, abandoned and decaying. Raiders had scrounged through it multiple times over the years.

Despite the village’s decline, Wen Ning knew these paths of caked yellow earth all too well. It was still the same home he had spent his childhood in.

How fitting, that at the beginning of Wei Wuxian’s second life, he and Wen Ning had reunited at this village. The place where everything had started for Wen Ning. The place where part of his soul was snatched by the Goddess Statue, leaving him spiritually distorted and unable to fully cultivate, and enabling Wen Ruohan to use him as collateral against his sister.

The place where years later he destroyed that same Goddess Statue at Wei Wuxian’s command. Felt the rust of catharsis at defeating his childhood monster.

The place where Wen Chao had turned Wen Ning’s entire family into puppets just to ambush Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji. Where the remnants of his clan were taken captive by the Jins, marched to Qiongqi Path for forced labor.

And now the village was dead.

Wen Ning had thought that constructing a memorial here with A-Yuan would finally grant him peace about his family.

It was foolish to have thought that. Nothing ever ends so easily.

“Are you going to put me down?” Jiang Cheng said.

Jiang Cheng had been purposely sagging his weight for the last half minute, Wen Ning realized.

“Sorry.” Wen Ning released him.

Jiang Cheng held his forehead in his hand and swayed back and forth.

“Can you stand?”

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng snapped, despite how he leaned onto the wall of a house and then sank to the ground. His face flushed pink.

“W-W-Wait here.” Wen Ning hurried down the dusty road of the village.

“Where are you going? Wen Qionglin!”

As Wen Ning turned the corner, he stumbled a bit at the sound of his courtesy name.

Jiang Cheng had not called him ‘Ghost General.’

It felt strange. But not unpleasant.

Wen Ning rummaged through the village for any trace of herb satchels or bottles of tonic that might have been left behind. The Dafan Wen Clan’s medicine worked better and faster than any other. He could find something to get Jiang Cheng back on his feet before they hunted for the final cure to the Four-Sunsets Flu.

But it was a slim chance that anything would be left. Thieves had stripped the buildings bare. They had even stolen the tattered red curtains that used to hang over the doorways.

Wen Ning regretted not going through the village when he visited with A-Yuan, to recover what few items remained. Instead, he had avoided the village and only gone to his clan’s burial grounds.

Somehow, it had been easier to visit the graves. Those were supposed to be lifeless. His home was not.

He sped up his search. He did not want to spend any more time in these empty houses.

In one of the elders’ huts, he found a secret stash of medicine in the wall. He hugged it all into his arms, hoping that he wouldn’t break anything, and ran back outside to where Jiang Cheng lay limp against a wall. He was farther down the street than where Wen Ning had left him. He must have tried to follow Wen Ning and not gotten far before falling back down.

Wen Ning squatted down and dumped the medical supplies in front of Jiang Cheng. A jumble of bottles, vials, and jars rolled in the dry yellow dirt.

“What is all that?” Even when collapsed from fever and exhaustion, Jiang Cheng still managed to channel enough sass into his voice for a man and a half. He wrinkled his nose. “It smells awful.”

Wen Ning had no sense of smell as a fierce corpse, so this was new information. Although it didn’t especially matter to him if Jiang Cheng disliked the scent.

Rearranging the bottles, Wen Ning said, “I might be able to give you some temporary treatment.”

“What’s the point when the cure is here? Don’t waste our time.” Jiang Cheng eyed the bottles suspiciously as Wen Ning lifted them one by one to decipher the faded labels. “How do you know those aren’t rotten? You’re going to poison me.”

“They keep for a long time.” When Jiang Cheng scowled more, Wen Ning said, “It might take a while to find the cure. So I’d like Jiang Wanyin to have some strength back before we start searching.”

“What does it matter to you?”

Wen Ning looked up from the bottles. “You shouldn’t come on this journey and then make me do all the work.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Fine, then. Whatever it takes for me to not be your patient any longer.”

He was surprisingly cooperative as Wen Ning held out wrinkled old herbs and a vial of bitter fluid. He took the medicine without a complaint, other than a few coughs and a disgusted grimace.

Several minutes later, some of the redness left his cheeks, and he was able to stand. “You better not have poisoned me,” he muttered as he brushed dust off his robes. “Where do we find the cure?”

“The remedy hasn’t been needed for centuries. All I remember from my family’s story is something about an ice-blue flower that blooms on this mountain at night. But I’ve never seen it.”

“That’s it?” Jiang Cheng yelled. Having regained his strength, his voice had also regained its volume. “We came all the way here and that’s all you have to go on?”

You could’ve asked before deciding if it was worth it to come, Wen Ning thought. But what he said was, “We have to check if any ancient texts were left behind. They might have the answers.”

“Shouldn’t you already know if there are records left? Didn’t you come here with that Lan boy?” he said, as if he didn’t know Lan Sizhui’s name. “What kind of descendant doesn’t guard the relics of his clan?”

Wen Ning winced at this. Jiang Cheng had an unmatched skill of firing shots of criticism posed as questions. But masked or not, his words cut just as sharp.

Back then, Jiang Cheng had lost everything. He had rebuilt Yunmeng from the ground up. Fought for the Jiang Clan, clawing its way back to power, leaving his people in want of nothing but an heir.

What had Wen Ning done for his clan but let it die?

Was the pain of their loss not equal? After Jiang Cheng’s parents were murdered and his city was burnt to cinders, he still had the strength to create something from the ashes. Was Wen Ning too weak to even lay eyes on the ashes that remained of his own clan?

Jiang Cheng cleared his throat. The sound brought Wen Ning back to the present.

No, he decided. Their situations had not been equal.

Wen Ning did not have the foothold that Jiang Cheng had. For years he was chained up by the Jins, tormented and experimented on. Stripped of his consciousness by nails shoved in his head. Even if he had the freedom to try to rebuild, there had been no foundation left. His clan had been wiped out.

Why would he want to create something from ashes as dead as he was, when there was life elsewhere?

“A-Yuan,” he found himself saying.

He did not look at Jiang Cheng, but he felt the man’s gaze boring into him.

“A-Yuan is my clan now. And A-Yuan has been granted a new life with the Lans.”

He did not dare voice it, but to himself, he said, Wei Wuxian is one of mine as well.

When he turned to Jiang Cheng, the man was staring at the ground, his eyes frail and downcast. “I…”

His fingers shifted in his clenched fists, as if he were channeling whatever he had to say into his hands—perhaps into Zidian—instead of the air. Then he set his jaw and marched down the narrow street, leaving Wen Ning behind.

* * *

They scavenged through the village until noon, searching for ancient Wen texts. They stopped every hour for Wen Ning to prepare another dose of medicine for Jiang Cheng. The treatment kept him upright, but each dose was less effective as his condition worsened.

They did not have much time. Two sunsets, and the fever would reach its peak.

They overturned the few pieces of furniture left in the buildings and gouged every crack in the walls. All they found were a few keepsakes—a necklace, a burlap sack, a compass—that Wen Ning set aside so he would not have to imagine the faces of the people they had once belonged to.

Nothing remained of the Dafan Wen Clan’s medical literature.

Now Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng stood in the dusty street, baking under the hot sun, feeling as hopeless and bleak as the ghost town. Jiang Cheng’s face was bright red. His hands were trembling slightly. The midday heat was not helping his fever.

Panting, he retreated into the shade of one of the houses. “I thought Wei Wuxian said we would find the cure here.” It was meant to sound accusatory, but most of the bite had been sapped out of his voice.

“We will,” said Wen Ning. “The ice flower grows somewhere hidden on this mountain. I just don’t know where it is or how to use it.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. He shook his head disapprovingly for a few moments. Then, “What about the cave?”

“The Goddess Statue’s shrine?”

He nodded.

“I think it will be empty. But we can try.” Wen Ning started on the path to the cave. He looked back when Jiang Cheng didn’t follow.

Jiang Cheng still leaned against the wall, avoiding eye contact.

“…Do you need me to carry you?”

Jiang Cheng did not answer, so Wen Ning took it as a yes. He heaved Jiang Cheng onto his back and headed for the cave.

It was strange to see the shrine with no Goddess Statue. As much as Wen Ning hated the goddess that stole part of his soul and killed his father, he wished that she still loomed over the cave floor, frozen in her haunted dance. At least that would be something on Dafan Mountain that wasn’t gone.

Wen Ning let Jiang Cheng rest against one of the rock formations beside the shrine as he searched the cave. There were a few offerings remaining from when the villagers at the foot of Dafan Mountain used to worship the goddess, but those had long since rotted away.

Having found nothing useful, Wen Ning wandered aimlessly around the cave, more to have something to do than to continue searching. He trailed a hand along the wall and wished that the stone beneath his hand felt real like it used to. It used to send a chill along his arm, giving him goosebumps. Now his body was just as cold as the stone, and he felt nothing.

If I don’t find the cure, will Lan Wangji and Jiang Wanyin die?

He tried not to think about it, but fear was eating away at him. He could not be responsible for more deaths. Especially not two people that Wei Wuxian loved.

But what hope was there?

A-Jie…I need your help…

If only Wen Qing had survived instead. She had always been smarter than Wen Ning, more perceptive than him. She would have known how to find the cure.

After a few more pointless circles around the cave, Wen Ning returned to Jiang Cheng.

“I don’t know what to do,” Wen Ning said.

Jiang Cheng looked up, his eyelids heavy. “You will.”

Wen Ning sat down front of Jiang Cheng, feeling hopeless.

And angry.

Resentful energy swirled inside him. He knew that it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t find the cure, and neither was it Jiang Cheng’s, but for some reason he wanted to hit both of them.

“I wish I knew what to do.”

“Do you want to get us killed?” Jiang Cheng yelled.

Wen Ning flinched backward. “W-W-What’s wrong?”

“You can’t make wishes here! That goddess has stolen the souls of people who made wishes in her presence!”

Wen Ning looked at the empty space behind the goddess’s former shrine.  “But her statue is destroyed. She isn’t here anymore.”

Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust that. Her spirit could still be around.”

Her spirit…

Something clicked in Wen Ning’s mind. “What if she can still be summoned?”

“Even worse, then. That goddess is a nuisance.”

“We should summon her.”

Jiang Cheng looked at Wen Ning like he was crazy. “For what?”

But before Wen Ning could answer, Jiang Cheng had already turned his attention to the shrine. His brow softened. “You’re right…if her spirit is still here, she might be able to help us find the cure.”

Wen Ning scooted closer to Jiang Cheng. “Can you summon her?”

“Can I summon her? Your clan lived here. You should do it.”

“I…” Wen Ning stared at the ground. “I can’t. I’m not alive.”

“Oh.” Jiang Cheng frowned. There was regret in his voice. He dug his fingers into the stone wall as he tried to push himself up to stand. “Sometimes I forget.”

Wen Ning meant to go forward and help him, but instead he sat frozen in place, repeating Jiang Cheng’s words in his mind.

Sometimes I forget.

As hard as Wen Ning searched for sarcasm or disdain or malice, there was none. He had said it simply, sincerely.

With his cold, stiff body, and his empty eyes, and his skin streaked with black veins, who could forget that the Ghost General was not alive?

“A little help?” Jiang Cheng said.

“S-S-Sorry!” Wen Ning hurried to support Jiang Cheng as they approached the altar, his mind still spinning.

Jiang Cheng sank to his knees and pulled a stick of incense from a qiankun pouch in his robes. “Leave me be.” Once Wen Ning backed away, Jiang Cheng lit the flame as an offering and closed his eyes.

Wen Ning imagined the rich, musky fragrance of the incense that he could no longer smell.

Another reminder that he was, indeed, not alive.

And yet…

Sometimes I forget.

He stepped closer to Jiang Cheng.

The incense smoke snaked through the air in front of Jiang Cheng. His face, usually dour and strong-lined, was calm and soft as he fell into the trance to summon the goddess.

Everyone knew that Wen Ning was not alive.

The juniors, as much as they enjoyed his company, were careful to avoid his cold hands and the resentful energy that bound his body together. Once they had grown comfortable enough with him, they even started making playful jokes about his un-dead condition. The banter helped Wen Ning feel better about life as a fierce corpse. But it also continued to remind him that he was different now, and he could not change it.

Lan Wangji did not seem to mind his presence, but Wen Ning always felt like he was intruding on the Cloud Recesses, even though it was his new home.

Perhaps a few of his family members had accepted him as the same A-Ning they one knew, but they were all gone now.

And Wei Wuxian…

Although Wei Wuxian had done all he could to make Wen Ning feel human again, and asserted his humanity to anyone who questioned it, he had also transformed Wen Ning into his weapon. Into the Ghost General.

Wen Ning would have killed for Wei Wuxian. It had been his choice. And with one note of Chenqing, Wen Ning would kill again, if his friend needed him to.

But would that still be his choice?

Who could be controlled this way other than a fierce corpse?

So then how could Jiang Cheng, the man who had raged against anyone who dared speak the name of the Ghost General, who hated Wen Ning for making his nephew an orphan, who refused to let Wen Ning set foot in Lotus Pier—how could he so casually ‘forget’ what Wen Ning was?

Suddenly, Jiang Cheng gasped and jerked awake. His eyes were wide. Disbelieving.

“J-Jiang Wanyin?”

Jiang Cheng seemed to struggle for words. He turned his head toward Wen Ning. He almost looked like he felt guilty about something.

“Go outside.”

“What…what happened?”

“Go.”

Wen Ning obeyed and hurried out of the cave. He looked over his shoulder at Jiang Cheng and saw him remove a small tan pouch from his robes.

What is he doing?

Wen Ning decided that it was best to respect Jiang Cheng’s demand for privacy. Anything to get them closer to the cure.

He found a comfortable place to sit and played with a handful of pebbles as he waited, rolling them through his fingers, wondering if the sensation felt a bit more defined than usual.

Several minutes later, there was a scuffing sound. He glanced up, expecting to see a standing figure, but had to redirect his eyes downward to where Jiang Cheng was crawling on the ground at the mouth of the cave.

Wen Ning jumped up. He helped Jiang Cheng to his feet, holding him upright. “Did you summon the goddess?”

A peculiar expression appeared on Jiang Cheng’s face. He shifted his jaw in discomfort, his dark eyes darting away. “I summoned something.”

“What was it? Does it know how to find the cure?”

“The Ever-Frozen Flower grows in the center of the western forest. Its nectar is the cure. It only blooms for a few moments at the coldest point of the night, and we need to harvest its nectar while its open.”

“Great! That’s it, then!”

Jiang Cheng nodded. He looked a bit happier than before, but still troubled by something.

Wen Ning noted that Jiang Cheng did not tell him what he had summoned.

Well, that was less important. They would have hours to wait until night when the blossom opened, so Wen Ning had time to ask again later.

This evening would be the second-to-last sunset before the fever fully consumed its victims. They had found a lead just in time.

“There’s hope,” Wen Ning said. “Thank you, Jiang Wanyin.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “It was your idea.”

“But I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I’m…it’s good that you came.”

Jiang Cheng leaned away, which didn’t get him very far as Wen Ning’s arm was wrapped around his torso. “Er. Right. Let’s get out of the sun.”

His fever had already gotten hotter. He radiated heat so strongly that even Wen Ning felt it as he held the man’s shaking body.

It had been a long time since Wen Ning had this much physical contact with someone. Especially someone so…warm.

“R-Right.” Wen Ning guided him back into the shadows of the cave.

Wen Ning prepared another dose of medicine, taking his time now that there was no rush to rummage through the village or find clues. They had their answer. They just needed to get the timing perfect to harvest the Ever-Frozen Flower’s nectar. Wen Ning felt lighter now, relieved that a cure was in sight.

“Here.” He held out the medicine to Jiang Cheng, who was all but melting from the fever by now.

He swallowed it immediately. “Thank you.”

Wen Ning shifted his weight as he kneeled in front of Jiang Cheng. Something felt off.

Since when did we start thanking each other for things?

“There’s only one dose left,” Wen Ning said. “There wasn’t much to begin with. I can get more medicine later.”

Jiang Cheng looked better already. “At least this sunset isn’t the last one. We have a full night to get the cure.” He rested the back of his head on the cave wall and closed his eyes. “Let’s hope whoever named this Four-Sunsets Flu didn’t get excited and overcount.”

Suddenly Wen Ning was laughing.

Jiang Cheng peeked at Wen Ning with half-open eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up. “You should know better than to laugh at a dead man.”

“You aren’t dead.”

“I sure feel like it.” His shoulders relaxed as he leaned into the wall more.

“…Jiang Wanyin?”

“What?”

Wen Ning stood up. “I-I’d like to visit the memorial I made with A-Yuan. I’ll be back soon.”

Jiang Cheng grunted with indifference.

Wen Ning headed out, but he had only taken a few steps when he heard, “Wen Qionglin.”

He turned back to Jiang Cheng, who had now opened his eyes.

“I’ll come with you.”

Wen Ning could only stare at him in disbelief.

He wants to visit my clan’s burial grounds? Is the flu affecting his mind too?

Then he realized that Jiang Cheng was staring at him, and he should have responded by now. “Oh—Oh, you should rest. It’s hot outside.”

“If you’d prefer to go alone, that’s fine.”

Wen Ning gently clasped his hands together. “No…that’s not what I meant.”

After a few moments, Jiang Cheng raised an arm, indicating for Wen Ning to help him up.

What a strange sight. The Jiang Clan Leader reduced to a feverish puddle, waiting to be picked up by a dead person he despised, to go visit more dead people. Wen Ning could’ve burst into laughter again.

* * *

With Wen Ning’s arm strapped around Jiang Cheng’s torso, they bowed in front of the memorial together, slightly out of sync.

The memorial that Wen Ning and A-Yuan had built was not too large. It was a carved stone that sat to the side of the older memorials in the Dafan Wen burial grounds. Simple and rudimentary, but crafted with care. Wen Ning could not imagine it any other way. Their branch of the Wen Clan had not been one for ostentation.

The bodies of Wen Ning’s family were not here. He did not even know if the Jin Clan had given them a proper burial. It filled him with rage to think about it.

The most he could do for his family’s spirits was to act like they were here. To hope that after he and A-Yuan honored them with the memorial, they had found their way home.

“A-Jie, it’s me. I hope you’ve been well.” Wen Ning’s throat felt dry. “A-Yuan has been growing up. He’s very happy with the Lans. You’d be proud of him.”

He pulled from his robes a small canister of dried fruit that he had packed before leaving for the journey, and placed the jar on the ground. “A-Jie, I b-b-brought apricots for you.” They had always been her favorite.

Suddenly Wen Ning felt heavy. The air was heavy, the sunlight was heavy.

Guilt struck him. He should have brought some of Uncle’s favorite liquor, and some rice cakes for Granny, and—

I miss you.

He should have been with them.

But now, how could he die?

What a cruel trick of fate. He was a walking reminder of what had become of the Dafan Wen, left behind to carry on their bloodline with no blood.

As he stood before the memorial, he felt phantom touches from years ago.

A hand in his.

He remembered lying in bed, just before falling asleep. Wen Qing held his hand. She made the bed tilt a little when she sat on the end of it, creating a tiny slope for Wen Ning to lean closer to her.

She loved music, but she was terrible at singing, so if Wen Ning wasn’t too sleepy he’d hum a song for her. It made soothing vibrations in his chest. Humming always felt the best when it was for his sister.

After he finished the song and began drifting off to sleep, Wen Qing squeezed his hand every so often, letting him know she was still there.

Then he remembered sitting on Granny’s lap. Feeling the subtle rocking of her body as she weaved red thread into a tassel she gave to Wen Ning. It was a charm for luck and protection. Wen Ning carried it with him everywhere.

He lost it three years later while exploring a forest. Granny had not been mad. She just weaved him another. By then, Wen Ning had grown too big to sit on her lap, so he sat at her feet instead to watch her weave, feeling warmth on his back from the small fire crackling behind him.

He didn’t know where that tassel from Granny was now.

He remembered Wen Qing’s hand on his forehead. Those gentle pats that she always gave him. Sometimes soft, sometimes chiding, but always loving. How she had to stand up on tip-toes to reach him once he got too tall.

A flash in his mind. He was overwhelmed with pain of the labor camp at Qiongqi Path. Blisters on his hands from chipping away the carvings of the Wen Clan to replace them with murals of the Jin Clan.

Hypocrites.

Broken bones in his legs when he didn’t obey. Agony that had only been bearable because he shared it with his family.

And then—a wooden spear through his chest. Ghosts that tore at him. Darkness and freezing cold.

Crinkly papers stuck all over him, and hard rock under his back. Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing’s breath on his neck as they pleaded for him to come back, and how desperately he wished he could.

The day he did wake up, nothing felt the same. Not even his family embracing him in celebration, or Wen Qing hugging him tighter than she ever had before.

But he had felt her tears of joy—warm droplets on his dead skin—and that made him feel a little more alive.

He wished that he could cry now. That he had tears to drop into the dirt below the memorial, and maybe his tears would make Wen Qing a little more alive.

A hand in his.

The day he and Wen Qing stood before Jinlintai, Wen Ning had given his sister’s hand one last squeeze.

Why couldn’t he squeeze his sister’s hand again, and let her know that even now, he was still here?

A-Jie, please come to your next life soon. I will search until I find you.

Jiang Cheng was trembling as Wen Ning held him.

He hadn't been shaking so much before. Had the hot sun made the fever worse?

“Why did she choose Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng said. His voice was quiet.

All Wen Ning could manage was a confused grunt in response.

“She gave her life for him.”

The shaking stopped.

“I should’ve been the one to do that!”

Wen Ning did not know how to react. Who would have expected that at his own family’s memorial, it would not be he who cried out, but the man who let them die? Jiang Cheng had feelings for Wen Qing once, he suspected, but he never would have thought they ran this deep.

“Wei Wuxian had already given up so much to let us live in peace a little longer,” Wen Ning said quietly. “It was the least we could do in return.”

Jiang Cheng gave him a perplexed look, as if Wen Ning had said something offensive and out of place. Then his expression melted into unease and he quickly turned away, like he was afraid of Wen Ning discovering something in his eyes.

Then Wen Ning understood. He had been talking about Jiang Yanli.

Both of them were mourning their older sisters.

Wen Ning decided that it would be kinder to pretend he didn’t know Jiang Cheng’s true thoughts. “She did like you,” he said.

Jiang Cheng shifted, but didn’t respond.

“Although she wished that you stood up for us. We all did. But in a way, we understood. No one’s position was easy back then.”

Stillness. Only the numb feeling of Jiang Cheng in his arms.

“You had your clan to worry about. And there was…” Wen Ning trailed off. There had been Jiang Yanli for Jiang Cheng to worry about, but it was better not to say that.

Jiang Yanli had gotten married while the Wens lived at the Burial Mounds. She had visited them, given Wen Ning soup he couldn’t taste, but he appreciated that soup more than most meals he had when he was still alive.

When Jiang Yanli visited, she had even let him see her bridal dress.

And I killed her husband.

Her own death was just as terrible. It hadn’t been at Wen Ning’s hand, but it might as well have been, linked as his sins were with Wei Wuxian’s.

Jiang Yanli would not have died if Wen Ning had been able to control himself at Qiongqi Path.

And neither would have Wen Qing.

A-Jie...

A thought that Wen Ning had been pushing down rose to the surface of his mind.

Was Wei Wuxian’s life more important than Wen Qing’s?

She had warned Wen Ning to stay away from Wei Wuxian. Yet he had chased after the boy over and over, first only doing small things like stealing Wen Qing's medicine to give to him, but eventually bringing Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli to Yiling as fugitives, when his sister had never asked to save them.

At the Burial Mounds, Wen Ning had tried to convince her not to turn herself in to the Jins. She hadn't listened.

But it was Wen Ning who owed the most to Wei Wuxian. Wen Qing had made enough sacrifices.

It should have been Wen Ning who went to Jinlintai. Only Wen Ning.

I should’ve protected her.

Would things have really been different had Jiang Cheng protected the Wens? Would Wen Qing still be alive?

His mind drifted back to the memorial in front of him, to Jiang Cheng, who now felt a little more solid in his arms.

“It’s okay,” Wen Ning said. “Caring about my family too late is better than never.”

“Don’t act like it’s worth anything now,” Jiang Cheng said bitterly. “You shouldn’t be so quick with empty words like that.”

“I didn’t mean that I forgive you. I don’t.”

Jiang Cheng shrugged and looked away from the memorial.

Wen Ning stared at the jar of dried apricots on the ground. It was such an inadequate offering for his sister, but he knew she would be happy with them anyway. She had never asked as much of Wen Ning as she should have. “There are others who will forgive you no matter what.”

Jiang Cheng began trembling again. Perhaps he was still thinking about his family.

Or maybe this time, it was Wen Ning who was trembling. Their movements were starting to blend together the longer they stood in front of the memorial.

They were not friends. Even by a stretch, they could barely be called allies. But if they were together right now, then they should be together, shouldn’t they?

Wen Ning took Jiang Cheng’s hand and squeezed it.

Jiang Cheng glanced down at their interlaced hands.

Wen Ning was not meant to touch the living. Not even A-Yuan accepted his touch without a shiver. Yet this felt natural, like it was the only thing meant to happen right now.

“I miss my sister too,” Wen Ning said, deciding to stop pretending that he didn’t know Jiang Cheng was thinking about Jiang Yanli.

“Your sister…your sister was a good person,” Jiang Cheng said.

“So was yours.”

The sound of Jiang Cheng’s breath became uneven, then slowly steadied. “...So are you.”

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3.

Ch. 3 >

[96harmony96]

Chapter 15

Friday found Trey sharing breakfast with Cary and me after an overnighter. As I drank the day’s first cup of coffee, I watched him interact with Cary and I was genuinely thrilled to see the intimate smiles and covert touches they gave one another.

I’d had easy relationships like that and hadn’t appreciated them at the time. They had been comfortable and uncomplicated, but they’d been superficial in a fundamental way, too.

How deep could a love affair get if you didn’t know the darkest recesses of your lover’s soul? That was the dilemma I’d faced with Lauren.

Day 2 After Lauren had begun. I found myself wanting to go to her and apologize for leaving her yet again. I wanted to tell her I was there for her, ready to listen or simply offer silent comfort. But I was too emotionally invested. I got wounded too easily. I was too afraid of rejection. And knowing she wouldn’t let me get too close only intensified that fear. Even if we did figure things out, I’d only tear myself apart trying to live with just the bits and pieces she decided to share with me.

At least my job was going well. The celebratory lunch the executives gave in honor of the agency landing the Kingsman account made me genuinely happy. I felt blessed to work in such a positive environment. But when I heard that Lauren had been invited—although no one expected her to show up—I returned quietly to my desk and focused on work the rest of the afternoon.

I hit the gym on the way home; then picked up some items to make fettuccini alfredo for dinner with crème brulée for dessert—comfort food guaranteed to put me in a carbohydrate coma. I expected sleep to offer me a break from the endless what-ifs my brain was recycling, hopefully long into Saturday morning.

Cary and I ate in the living room with chopsticks, his idea to cheer me up. He said dinner was great, but I couldn’t tell. I snapped out of it when he fell silent, too, and I realized I was being a less than stellar friend.

“When are the Grey Isles’ campaign ads going up?” I asked.

“I’m not sure, but get this…” He grinned. “You know how it is with male models—we’re tossed around like condoms at an orgy. It’s tough to stand out from the crowd, unless you’re dating someone famous. Which I’m suddenly reported to be doing since those photos of you and me were plastered everywhere. I’m the side piece of action in your relationship with Lauren Jauregui. You’ve done wonders for making me a hot commodity.”

I laughed. “You didn’t need my help for that.”

“Well, it certainly didn’t hurt. Anyway, they called me back for a couple more shoots. I think they might just use me for more than five minutes.”

“We’ll have to celebrate,” I teased.

“Absolutely. When you’re up for it.”

We ended up hanging out and watching the original Tron. His smartphone rang twenty minutes into the movie and I heard him speaking to his agency. “Sure. I’ll be there in fifteen, tops. I’ll call you when I get there.”

“Got a job?” I asked after he’d hung up.

“Yeah. A model showed up for a night shoot so trashed he’s worthless.” He studied me. “You wanna come?”

I stretched my legs out on the couch. “Nope. I’m good right here.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“All I need is mindless entertainment. Just the thought of getting dressed again exhausts me.” I’d be happy wearing my flannel pajama bottoms and holey old tank top all weekend. As much as I hurt inside, total comfort outside seemed like a necessity. “Don’t worry about me. I know I’ve been a mess lately, but I’ll get it together. Go on and enjoy yourself.”

After Cary rushed out, I paused the movie and went to the kitchen for some wine. I stopped by the breakfast bar, my fingertips gliding over the roses Lauren had sent me the previous weekend. Petals fell to the countertop like tears. I thought about cutting the stems and using the flower food packet that came with the bouquet, but it was pointless hanging on to them. I’d throw the arrangement away tomorrow, the last reminder of my equally doomed relationship.

I’d gotten farther with Lauren in one week than I had with other relationships that lasted two years. I would always love her for that. Maybe I’d always love her, period.

And one day, that might not hurt so badly.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Cary singsonged as he yanked the comforter off of me.

“Ugh. Go away.”

“You’ve got five minutes to get your ass up and in the shower, or the shower’s coming to you.”

Opening one eye, I peeked at him. He was shirtless and wearing baggy pants that barely clung to his hips. As far as wake-up calls went, he was prime. “Why do I have to get up?”

“Because when you’re flat on your back you’re not on your feet.”

“Wow. That was deep, Cary Taylor.”

He crossed his arms and shot me an arch look. “We need to go shopping.”

I buried my face in the pillow. “No.”

“Yes. I seem to remember you saying this was a ‘Sunday garden party’ and ‘rock star gathering’ in the same sentence. What the hell do I wear to something like that?”

“Ah, well. Good point.”

“What are you wearing?”

“I…I don’t know. I was leaning toward the ‘English tea with hat’ look, but now I’m not so sure.”

He gave a brisk nod. “Right. Let’s hit the shops and find something sexy, classy, and cool.”

Growling a token protest, I rolled out of bed and padded over to the bathroom. It was impossible to shower without thinking of Lauren, without picturing her perfect body and remembering the desperate sounds she made when she came in my mouth. Everywhere I looked, Lauren was there. I’d even started hallucinating black Bentley SUVs all around town. I thought I spotted one damn near everywhere I went.

Cary and I had lunch; then we bounced all over the city, hitting the best of the Upper East Side thrift stores and Madison Avenue boutiques before taking a taxi downtown to SoHo. Along the way, Cary had two teenage girls ask for his autograph, which tickled me more than him, I think.

“Told you,” he crowed.

“Told me what?”

“They recognized me from an entertainment news blog. One of the posts about you and Jauregui.”

I snorted. “Glad my love life is working out for someone.”

He was due at another job around three and I went with him, spending a few hours in the studio of a loud and brash photographer. Remembering it was Saturday, I slipped into a far corner and made my weekly call to my dad.

“You still happy in New York?” he asked me above the background noise of dispatch talking over the radio in his cruiser.

“So far so good.” A lie, but the truth helped no one.

His partner said something I didn’t catch. My dad snorted and said, “Hey, Chris insists he saw you on television the other day. Some cable channel, celebrity gossip thing. The guys won’t leave me alone about it.”

I sighed. “Tell them watching those shows is bad for their brain cells.”

“So you’re not dating one of the richest people in America?”

“No. What about your love life?” I asked, quickly diverting. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Nothing serious. Hang on.” He responded to a call on the radio, then said, “Sorry, sweetheart. I have to run. I love you. Miss you like crazy.”

“I miss you, too, Daddy. Be careful.”

“Always. Bye.”

I killed the call and went back to my former spot to wait for Cary to wrap things up. In the lull, my mind tormented me. Where was Lauren now? What was she doing?

Would Monday bring me an inbox full of photos of her with another woman?

____

Sunday afternoon I borrowed Clancy and one of Stanton’s town cars for the drive out to the Vidal estate in Dutchess County. Leaning back in the seat, I looked out the window, absently admiring the serene vista of rolling meadows and green woodlands that stretched to the distant horizon. I realized I was working on Day 4 After Lauren. The pain I’d felt the first few days had turned into a dull throbbing that felt almost like the flu. Every part of my body ached, as if I was going through some sort of physical withdrawal and my throat burned with unshed tears.

“Are you nervous?” Cary asked me.

I glanced at him. “Not really. Lauren won’t be there.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“I wouldn’t be going if I thought otherwise. I do have some pride you know.” I watched him drum his fingers on the armrest between our two seats. For all the shopping we’d done yesterday, he’d made only one purchase: a black leather tie. I’d teased him mercilessly about it, he of the perfect fashion sense going with something like that.

He caught me looking at it. “What? You still don’t like my tie? I think it works well with the emo jeans and my lounge lizard jacket.”

“Cary”—my lips quirked—“you can wear anything.”

It was true. Cary could pull any look off, a benefit of having a sculpted rangy body and a face that could make angels weep.

I set my hand over his restless fingers. “Are you nervous?”

“Trey didn’t call last night,” he muttered. “He said he would.”

I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s just one missed call, Cary. I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything serious.”

“He could’ve called this morning,” he argued. “Trey’s not flakey like the others I’ve dated. He wouldn’t have forgotten to call, which means he just doesn’t want to.”

“The rat bastard. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures of you having a great time looking sexy, classy, and cool to torment him with on Monday.”

His mouth twitched. “Ah, the deviousness of the female mind. It’s a shame Jauregui won’t see you today. I think I got a semi when you came out of your room in that dress.”

“Eww!” I smacked his shoulder and mock-glared when he laughed.

The dress had seemed perfect to both of us when we’d found it. It was cut in a classic garden party style—fitted bodice with a knee-length skirt that flared out from the waist. It was even white with flowers. But that’s where the tea-and-crumpets style ended.

The edginess came from the strapless form, the alternating layers of black and crimson satin underskirts that gave it volume, and the black leather flowers that looked like wicked pinwheels. Cary had picked the red Jimmy Choo peep-toe pumps out of my closet and the ruby drop earrings to give it all the finishing touch. We’d decided to leave my hair loose around my shoulders, in case we arrived and learned that hats were required. All in all, I felt pretty and confident.

Clancy drove us through an imposing set of monogrammed gates and turned into a circular driveway, following the direction of a valet. Cary and I got out by the entrance, and he took my arm as my heels sank into blue-gray gravel on the walk to the house.

Upon entering the Vidal’s sprawling Tudor-style mansion, we were warmly greeted by lauren’s family in a receiving line—her mother, stepfather, Christopher, and their sister.

I took in the sight, thinking the Vidal family could only look more perfect if Lauren was lined up with them. Her mother and sister had her coloring, both women boasting the same glossy obsidian hair and thickly-lashed green eyes. They were both beautiful in a finely wrought way.

“Camila!” Lauren’s mother drew me toward her, then air-kissed both of my cheeks. “I’m so pleased to finally meet you. What a gorgeous girl you are! And your dress. I love it.”

“Thank you.”

Her hands brushed over my hair, cupped my face, and then slid down my arms. It was hard for me to bear it, because touching was sometimes an anxiety trigger for me when the person was a stranger. “Your hair, is it naturally brunette?”

“Yes,” I replied, startled and confused by the question. Who asked a question like that of a stranger?

“How fascinating. Well, welcome. I hope you have a wonderful time. We’re so glad you could make it.”

Feeling strangely unsettled, I was grateful when her attention moved to Cary and zeroed in.

“And you must be Cary,” she crooned. “Here I’d been certain my three children were the most attractive in the world. I see I was wrong about that. You are simply divine, young man.”

Cary flashed his megawatt smile. “Ah, I think I’m in love, Mrs. Vidal.”

she laughed with throaty delight. “Please. Call me Elizabeth. Or Lizzie, if you’re brave enough.”

Looking away, I found my hand clasped by Christopher Vidal Senior. In many ways, he reminded me of his son, with his slate green eyes and boyish smile. In others, he was a pleasant surprise. Dressed in khakis, loafers, and a cashmere cardigan, he looked more like a college professor than a music company executive.

“Camila. May I call you Camila?”

“Please do.”

“Call me Chris. It makes it a little easier to distinguish between me and Christopher.” His head tilted to the side as he contemplated me through quirky brass spectacles. “I can see why Lauren is so taken with you. Your eyes are a deep chocolate brown, yet they’re so clear and direct. Quite the most beautiful eyes I think I’ve ever seen, aside from my wife’s.”

I flushed. “Thank you.”

“Is Lauren coming?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” Why didn’t her parents know the answer to that question?

“We always hope.” He gestured at a waiting servant. “Please head back to the gardens and make yourself at home.”

Christopher greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, while lauren’s sister Ireland sized me up in a sulky way that only a teenager could pull off. “You’re a brunette,” she said.

Jeez. Was lauren’s preference for light-haired women a damn law or something? “And you’re a very lovely brunette.”

Cary offered me his arm and I accepted it gratefully.

As we walked away, he asked me quietly, “Were they what you expected?”

“Her mom, maybe. Her stepdad, no.” I looked back over my shoulder, taking in the elegant floor-length cream sheath dress that clung to Elizabeth Vidal’s svelte figure. I thought of what little I knew about Lauren’s family. “How does a girl grow up to be a businesswoman who takes over her stepfather’s family business?”

“Jauregui owns shares in Vidal Records?”

“Controlling interest.”

“Hmm. Maybe it was a bailout?” he offered. “A helping hand during a trying time for the music industry?”

“Why not just give him the money?” I wondered.

“Because she’s a shrewd businesswoman?”

With a sharp exhalation, I waved the question away and cleared my mind. I was attending the party for Cary, not Lauren, and I was going to keep that first and foremost in my thoughts.

Once we’d moved outside, we found a large, elaborately decorated marquee erected in the rear garden. Although the day was beautiful enough to stay out in the sun, I found a seat at a circular table covered in white damask instead.

Cary patted my shoulder. “You relax. I’ll network.”

“Go get ’em.”

He moved away, intent on his agenda.

I sipped champagne and chatted with everyone who stopped by to strike up a conversation. There were a lot of recording artists at the party whose work I listened to, and I watched them covertly, a bit starstruck. For all the elegance of the surroundings and the endless number of servants, the overall vibe was casual and relaxed.

I was starting to enjoy myself when someone I’d hoped never to see again stepped out of the house onto the terrace: Magdalene Perez, looking phenomenal in a rose-hued chiffon gown that floated around her knees.

A hand settled on my shoulder and squeezed, setting my heart racing because it reminded me of the night Cary and I had gone to lauren’s club. But the figure that rounded me this time was Christopher.

“Hey, Camila.” He took the chair next to mine and set his elbows on his knees, leaning toward me. “Are you having fun? You’re not mingling much.”

“I’m having a great time.” At least I had been. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming. My parents are stoked you’re here. Me, too, of course.” His grin made me smile, as did his tie, which had cartoon vinyl records all over it. “Are you hungry? The crab cakes are great. Grab one when the tray comes by.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Let me know if you need anything. And save a dance for me.” He winked, and then hopped up and away.

Ireland took his seat, arranging herself with the practiced grace of a finishing school graduate. Her hair fell in a single length to her waist and her beautiful eyes were direct in a way I could appreciate. she looked worldlier than her seventeen years. “Hi.”

“Hello.”

“Where’s Lauren?”

I shrugged at the blunt question. “I’m not sure.”

she nodded sagely. “she’s good at being a loner.”

“Has she always been that way?”

“I guess. she moved out when I was little. Do you love her?”

My breath caught for a second. I released it in a rush and said simply, “Yes.”

“I thought so when I saw that video of you two in Bryant Park.” she bit her lush lower lip. “Is she fun? You know…to hang around with?”

“Oh. Well…” God. Did anyone know Lauren? “I wouldn’t say she’s fun, but she’s never boring.”

The live band began playing “I’ve Got You Under My Skin” and Cary appeared beside me as if by magic. “Time to make me look good, Ginger.”

“I’ll try my best, Fred.” I smiled at Ireland. “Excuse me a minute.”

“Three minutes, forty seconds,” she corrected, displaying some of her family’s expertise in music.

Cary led me onto the empty dance floor and pulled me into a swift foxtrot. It took me a minute to get into it, because I’d been stiff and tight with misery for days. Then the synergy of longtime partners kicked in and we glided across the floor with sweeping steps.

When the singer’s voice faded with the music, we stopped, breathless. We were pleasantly surprised by applause. Cary gave an elegant bow and I held on to his hand for stability as I dipped into a curtsy.

When I lifted my head and straightened, I found Lauren standing in front of me. Startled, I stumbled back a step. she was seriously underdressed in jeans and an untucked white dress shirt that was open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, but she was so damn fine she still put every other woman in attendance to shame.

The tremendous yearning I felt at the sight of her overwhelmed me. Distantly I was aware of the band’s singer pulling Cary away, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Lauren, whose wildly green eyes burned into mine.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, scowling.

I recoiled from her harshness. “Excuse me?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” she grabbed me by the elbow and started hauling me toward the house. “I don’t want you here.”

If she’d spit in my face, it couldn’t have devastated me more. I yanked my arm free of her and walked briskly toward the house with my head held high, praying I could make it to the privacy of the town car and Clancy’s protective watch before the tears started falling.

Behind me, I heard a come-hither female voice call out lauren’s name and I sent up a prayer that the woman would stall her long enough for me to get out without further confrontation.

I thought I just might make it when I passed into the cool interior of the house.

“Camila, wait.”

My shoulders hunched at the sound of Lauren’s voice and I refused to look at her. “Get lost. I can show myself out.”

“I’m not done—”

“I am!” I pivoted to face her. “You don’t get to talk to me that way. Who do you think you are? You think I came here for you? That I was hoping I’d see you and you’d throw me a goddamn scrap or bone…some pathetic acknowledgment of my existence? Maybe I’d be able to harass you into a quick, dirty fuck in a corner somewhere in a pitiful effort to win you back?”

“Shut up, Camila.” Her gaze was scorching hot, her jaw tight and hard. “Listen to me—”

“I’m only here because I was told you wouldn’t be. I’m here for Cary and his career. So you can go back to the party and forget about me all over again. I assure you, when I walk out the door, I’ll be doing the same to you.”

“Shut your damned mouth.” she caught me by the elbows and shook me so hard my teeth snapped together. “Just shut up and let me talk.”

I slapped her hard enough to turn her head. “Don’t touch me.”

With a growl, Lauren hauled me into her and kissed me hard, bruising my lips. Her hand was in my hair, fisting it roughly, holding me in place so I couldn’t turn away. I bit the tongue she thrust aggressively into my mouth, then her lower lip, tasting blood, but she didn’t stop. I shoved at her shoulders with everything I had, but I couldn’t budge her.

Goddamn Stanton! If not for him and my crazy-assed mother, I’d have had a few Krav Maga classes under my belt by now…

Lauren kissed me as if she was starved for the taste of me and my resistance began to melt. she smelled so good, so familiar. Her body felt so perfectly right against mine. My nipples betrayed me, hardening into tight points, and a slow, hot trickle of arousal gathered in my core. My heart thundered in my chest.

God, I wanted her. The craving hadn’t gone away, not even for a minute.

she picked me up. Imprisoned by her tight grip, it was hard to breathe and my head began to spin. When she carried me through a door and kicked it shut behind her, I couldn’t do more than make a feeble sound of protest.

I found myself pressed against a heavy glass door on the other side of a library, lauren’s hard and powerful body subduing my own. Her arm at my waist slid lower, her hand delving beneath my skirts and finding the curves of my butt exposed by my lacy boy shorts underwear. she wrenched my hips hard to her, making me feel how hard she was, how aroused. My sex trembled with want, achingly empty.

All the fight left me. My arms fell to my sides, my palms pressing flat to the glass. I felt the brittle tension drain from her body as I softened in surrender, the pressure of her mouth easing and her kiss turning into a passionate coaxing.

“Camila,” she breathed gruffly. “Don’t fight me. I can’t take it.”

My eyes closed. “Let me go, Lauren.”

she nuzzled her cheek against mine, her breath gusting hard and fast over my ear. “I can’t. I know you’re disgusted by what you saw the other night…what I was doing to myself—”

“Lauren, no!” God. Did she think I left hee because of that? “That’s not why—”

“I’m losing my mind without you.” Her lips were gliding down my neck, her tongue stroking over my racing pulse. she sucked on my skin and pleasure radiated through me. “I can’t think. I can’t work or sleep. My body aches for you. I can make you want me again. Let me try.”

Tears slipped free and ran down my face. They splashed on the upper swell of my breasts and she licked at them, lapping them away.

How would I ever recover if she made love to me again? How would I survive if she didn’t?

“I never stopped wanting you,” I whispered. “I can’t stop. But you hurt me, Lauren. You have the power to hurt me like no one else can.”

Her gaze was stark and confused on my face. “I hurt you? How?”

“You lied to me. You shut me out.” I cupped her face, needing hero to understand this one thing without question. “Your past doesn’t have the power to push me away. Only you can do that, and you did.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” she rasped. “I never wanted you to see me like that…”

“That’s the problem, Lauren. I want to know who you are, the good and the bad, and you want to keep parts of yourself hidden from me. If you don’t open up, we’re going to lose each other down the road and I won’t be able to take it. I’m barely surviving it now. I’ve crawled through the last four days of my life. Another week, a month…It’ll break me to give you up.”

“I can let you in, Camila. I’m trying. But your first response when I screw up is to run away. You do it every time and I can’t stand feeling like any moment I’m going to do or say something wrong and you’re going to bolt.”

Her mouth was tender again as she brushed her lips back and forth over mine. I didn’t argue with her. How could I, when she was right?

“I hoped you’d come back on your own,” she murmured, “but I can’t stay away anymore. I’ll carry you out of here if I have to. Whatever it takes to get you back in the same room with me, talking this out.”

My heart stuttered. “You were hoping I’d come back? I thought…You gave me back my keys. I thought we were over.”

she pulled back, her face set in fierce lines. “We’ll never be over, Camila.”

I looked at her, my heart aching like an open wound at how beautiful she was, how broken and in pain she was—pain I’d caused to some degree.

On tiptoes, I kissed the reddened handprint I’d left on her cheek, clutching her thick silky hair in my hands.

Lauren bent her knees to align our bodies, her breathing harsh and erratic. “I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you need. Anything. Just take me back.”

Maybe I should have been scared by the depth of her need, but I felt the same passionate insanity for her.

Running my hands down her chest in an effort to soothe her trembling, I gave her the hard truth. “We can’t seem to stop making each other miserable. I can’t keep doing this to you and I can’t keep going through these crazy highs and lows. We need help, Lauren. We’re seriously dysfunctional.”

“I saw Dr. Petersen on Friday. He’s going to take me on as a patient, and—if you agree—he’ll take us both on as a couple. I figured if you can trust him, I can try.”

“Dr. Petersen?” I remembered the brief jolt I’d felt at seeing a black Bentley SUV when Clancy pulled away from the doctor’s office. At the time, I’d told myself it was wishful thinking. After all, there were countless black SUVs in New York. “You had me followed.”

Her chest expanded on a deep breath. she didn’t deny it.

I bit back my anger. I could only imagine how terrible it must be for her to be so dependent on something—someone—she couldn’t control. What mattered most at that moment were her willingness to try and the fact that it wasn’t just talk. she’d actually taken steps. “It’s going to be a lot of work, Lauren,” I warned her.

“I’m not afraid of work.” she was touching me restlessly, her hands sliding over my thighs and buttocks as if caressing my bare skin was as necessary to her as breathing. “I’m only afraid of losing you.”

I pressed my cheek to her. We completed each other. Even now, as her hands roamed possessively over me, I felt a thawing in my soul, the desperate relief of being held—finally—by the woman who understood and satisfied my deepest, most intimate desires.

“I need you.” Her mouth was sliding over my cheek and down my throat. “I need to be inside you…”

“No. My God. Not here.” But my protest sounded weak even to my own ears. I wanted her anywhere, anytime, any way…

“It has to be here,” she muttered, dropping to her knees. “It has to be now.”

she chafed my skin ripping the lace of my panties away; then she shoved my skirts to my waist and licked my cleft, her tongue parting my folds to stroke over my throbbing clit.

I gasped and tried to recoil, but there was nowhere to go. Not with the door at my back and a grimly determined Lauren in front, one hand keeping me pinned while the other lifted my left leg over her shoulder, opening me to her ardent mouth.

My head thudded against the glass, heat pulsing through my blood from the point where her tongue was driving me mad. My leg flexed against her back, urging her closer, my hands cupping her head to hold her still as I rocked into her. Feeling the rough satin strands of her hair against my sensitive inner thighs was its own provocation, heightening my awareness of everything around me…

We were in Lauren’s parents’ house, in the midst of a party attended by dozens of famous people, and she was on her knees, growling her hunger as she licked and sucked my slick, aching cleft. she knew just how to get to me, knew what I liked and needed. she had an understanding of my nature that went above and beyond her incredible oral skills. The combination was devastating and addicting.

My body shook, my eyelids heavy from the illicit pleasure. “Lauren…You make me come so hard.”

Her tongue rubbed over and over the clenching entrance to my body, teasing me, making me grind shamelessly into her working mouth. Her hands cupped my bare butt, kneading, urging me onto her tongue as she thrust it inside me. There was reverence in the greedy way she enjoyed me, the unmistakable sense that she worshipped my body, that pleasuring it and taking pleasure from it was as vital to her as the blood in her veins.

“Yes,” I hissed, feeling the orgasm building. I was buzzed by champagne and the heated scent of Lauren’s skin mixed with my own arousal. My breasts strained within the increasingly too-tight confines of my strapless bra, my body trembling on the edge of a desperately needed orgasm. “I’m so close.”

A movement on the far side of the room caught my eye and I froze, my gaze locking with Magdalene’s. she stood just inside the door, halted midstride, staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the back of Lauren’s moving head.

But she was either oblivious or too impassioned to care. Her lips circled my clit and her cheeks hallowed. Sucking rhythmically, she massaged the hypersensitive knot with the tip of her tongue.

Everything tightened viciously, then released in a fiery burst of pleasure.

The orgasm poured through me in a scorching wave. I cried out, pumping my hips mindlessly into her mouth, lost to the primal connection between us. Lauren held me up as my knees weakened, tonguing my quivering flesh until the last tremor faded.

When I opened my eyes again, our audience of one had fled.

Standing in a rush Lauren picked me up and carried me to the couch. she dropped me lengthwise on the cushion; then hauled my hips up to rest on the armrest, arching my spine.

I eyed her up the length of my torso. Why not just fold me over and fuck me from behind?

Then she ripped open her button-fly and pulled her big, beautiful penis out, and I didn’t care how she took me just so long as she did. I whimpered as she shoved into me, my body struggling to accommodate the wonderful fullness I craved. Yanking my hips to meet her powerful thrusts, Lauren battered my tender sex with that brutally thick column of rigid flesh, her gaze dark and possessive, her breath leaving her in primitive grunts every time she hit the end of me.

A trembling moan left me, the friction of her drives stirring my never-sated need to be fucked senseless by her. Only her.

A handful of strokes and her head fell back as she gasped my name, her hips rolling to stir me into a frenzy. “Squeeze me, Camila. Squeeze my dick.”

When I complied, the ragged sound she made was so erotic my sex trembled in appreciation. “Yeah, angel…just like that.”

I tightened around her and she cursed. Her gaze found mine, the stunning green hazed with sexual euphoria. A convulsive shudder wracked her powerful frame, followed by an agonized sound of ecstasy. Her cock jerked inside me, once, twice, and then she was coming long and hard, spurting hotly into the clutching depths of my body.

I didn’t have time to climax again, but it didn’t matter. I watched her with awe and pure female triumph. I could do this to her.

In the moments of orgasm, I owned her as completely as she owned me.

[ddagent]

Okay okay yes I will 100% prompt New New Amsterdam au first meeting in future preferably?

I honestly have no idea if this is any good. It’s my first fic post-flu, and my sinus infection does not seem to be getting any better. But here we are. Also: this is more Forever than New Amsterdam because I’ve got another immortal!Jaime idea on the books and I wanted to write something a little different. But I hope you enjoy all the same! 

Jaime Lannister was dead. Not for the first time. 

In truth, the former knight had long since stopped keeping count of his deaths; six hundred years of immortality and a smart mouth had racked up the numbers. Jaime remembered his first, in the belly of the Red Keep, and he remembered the most painful. This one wouldn’t even make the top one hundred: there was a woman, a mugger, a knife. Pain, blood, and a weightless feeling as the life left him and his body vanished into thin air. Only for him to be reborn, as he always was, where it began. 

Only now the dungeons of the Red Keep was an apartment complex, and the specific spot he died was a fountain. 

“Maiden save me, that man’s not wearing any clothes!”

Oh, and every time he was reborn, he emerged naked. 

Stepping out of the fountain, Jaime shook his damp hair and waved at the startled woman with his right arm as his only hand covered his cock. This wasn’t the first time he’d been reborn in the fountain; nor would it be his last. Thankfully, he’d started stashing clothes in the courtyard, and a phone so he could call Ty for a pick-up. Rebirth meant no clothes, no phone, no prosthetic hand. Just Jaime Lannister in his nameday suit. 

Today, he made it two steps before the gates to the courtyard opened, and two gold cloaks entered. Well, fuck. “Ser, ser, if you could come with us please?”

Which was how Jaime found himself wrapped in a blanket and bundled in the back of a patrol car. Again. Six hundred years of immortality meant he had seen more, done more than he ever had in his first lifetime. He’d travelled as far as Mereen and seen beyond the Wall. He’d worked as a sailor, a bodyguard, and even forged chains at the Citadel. He’d buried three children and two siblings, and had loved – truly – only once. As far as being stabbed in a mugging and arrested for public indecency, this was just an ordinary day. 

Booking, spare clothes, questioned by Officer Swann. Jaime practically yawned. “Name?”

“Jaime Hill.” Even now, the name Lannister meant something. He’d never used it; not since his first life. “Detective Jaime Hill. I work in homicide.”

Officer Swann stiffened. “You woke for Chief Redwyne.”  

“I’m her top man,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And, as I told you back at the complex, I have a tendency to sleepwalk. Won’t you look a fool, arresting King’s Landing’s top homicide detective just because he walks in his sleep.” 

“You were naked.”

Jaime shrugged. “I don’t care for pyjamas, what more can I say?”

Officer Swann pursed his lips, rose from his chair and discussed options with the other gold cloak who’d brought him in. Jaime just tapped his fingertips against the desk as he waited for them to make the right decision and let him go. Eventually, Officer Swann came back to him. 

“You’re free to go, Detective Hill. I’ll see if I can’t get the Beauty to drive you home.” 

“The Beauty?” 

Swann barked out a laugh. “Officer Payne. She’s new to the precinct.” 

A name was called; a figure in the corner of the bullpen turned around. And at that moment all the air left his body, yet Jaime was not reborn. He just sat, transfixed, as the spitting image of Brienne of Tarth crossed the room to join him. He’d forgotten many things of his first life, but the Stranger had given him one more torment, and that was never being able to forget her face. Officer Payne was just as tall, as broad. Her eyes were the same shade of blue; her blonde hair longer and pulled into a ponytail. Gods, even her scowl was the same. 

“I wasn’t staring,” he said, when both of them knew he had been. “I mean, I was, but only because you look like someone I went to university with.”

Beside them, Swann just chuckled. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Officer Payne will drive you home, Detective.” 

Swann may have missed the eye roll, but Jaime certainly didn’t. Brienne – Officer Payne – walked him across the bullpen without a word, and Jaime kept his own lip zipped until they were out of earshot. “I can only assume you must be a better driver than they are.”

“Better gold cloak. They can’t stomach the competition.” She didn’t meet his gaze as they left the precinct. “Where am I taking you?” 

“Lion Antiquities. My—” Great-however-many-nephew. “—my friend owns the store; I live above it.”

"Fine.”

Not another word was exchanged between them as they settled in Officer Payne’s squad car. The hour had grown late; the streets quiet. Officer Payne maintained the speed limit and stopped for every red light. Jaime almost laughed; this was exactly how the honourable Ser Brienne of Tarth would drive had she ever lived this long. No, she’d died centuries ago. But Officer Payne was her mirror. For a moment, Jaime leaned back against the leather seat and settled himself to the sound of her breathing. He’d long forgotten her voice, or the sounds she made whilst fighting or fucking, but the sound of Officer Payne breathing made him feel safe for the first time in six hundred years. 

“What’s your name?” No answer. “I’m Jaime Hill; homicide detective.” Still nothing. “A passenger has a right to know his driver’s name.” 

A long, withered sigh. “Brienne Payne.” 

Fuck. She was even called Brienne. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Six hundred years and the Gods had created someone with her features, with parents who had given her the name of the first female knight. Fuck, there was even a miniature Oathkeeper hanging from the rearview mirror; other gold cloaks might have fuzzy dice, but this Officer had a miniature Valyrian sword. Do you realise, Brienne Payne, how much you look like her? 

“Do you like working as an officer?” he asked instead. “Chief Redwyne is always looking for good detectives.” 

“I’m not interested in handouts.” 

Jaime huffed. “I’m not–I’m just asking. You seem—”

“—a car ride together where I’m practically your chauffeur is not a firm representation of my investigative skills.” Brienne Payne tapped her indicator. “Whatever you want in exchange for your recommendation, you can keep it.”

“Brienne—” and, oh, how good it felt to say that name again.

“—we’re here.”

And so they were. Lion Antiquities; Ty (short for Tyrion, another mirror) busy inside haggling with a customer. Brienne Payne didn’t open his door or offer another word – not even to scold him. She just kept two hands upon the wheel and two eyes upon the road and let Jaime step out. He watched her, though, until the taillights from her patrol car blinked around the corner. In his many years, Jaime had struggled to understand his purpose; of why he had been granted immortality. Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with Brienne Payne. 

He’d certainly be seeing more of her, of that Jaime was very sure. 

--

Brienne pulled her squad car into the first layby along from Lion Antiquities. Her fingers fumbled with the ignition, and then there was nothing but the sound of her own breathing. Rough, ragged breaths that Brienne drew into her lungs. After a few minutes, she reached for her phone. Tapped in her pin, found her contacts, and pressed call. It took a few rings, but her call was answered. 

“Brienne? It’s late. Is everything all right?”

“I’m sorry to call so late, Cat, but I—” Brienne of Tarth sighed. “I’ve just met the spitting image of Jaime Lannister.”

[hecohansen31]

The Magic Words Is:

F&R! Michael Langdon+Inscure! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

This suckety suck...

But also I don’t like keeping my things to myself and also... honestly... you have read worse from me, so...

This came up when I was talking with @blakewaterxx and she jokingly said, after I apologized a few too many times that if I kept doing that she would make Michael punish me... and I took it a bit more seriously than I should have... 

So here comes this...

Have fun reading it!

Let me know what you think, and I also let’s hope this doesn’t die as my all my fics lately... I am just too done to deal with that right noq!

WARNINGS: Dom-Sub Relationship, Spanking, Punishment, Sexual Themes, Mention of Sexual SItuations, Nudity, Mention of Self-Harm.

It wasn’t that Michael despised that you had this kind of gentleness and frailty to you.

No, he actually enjoyed it.

But he couldn’t tolerate anybody else taking advantage of it.

Aside him, obviously.

It was mostly because it would show some kind of emotion he had defined as weak since it would show your submission to someone else…

… that wasn’t him.

That morning: Jeff and Mutt had tormented you for the entire morning under Michael’s attentive gaze, and although he had wanted to intervene, he couldn’t do much, mostly because you personally didn’t want him to intervene in your work life, but also because he had wanted to see how far this would all go.

To see if you would fight them back.

Through the entire morning you had bended yourself to Jeff and Mutt’s will, the two cokeheads taking extreme advantage of your willingness to please, till it brought you over to the edge of a big psychotic attack, since their coke-burned brain thought that you could much more than it was humanly possible.

But you instead of shutting them off or fighting them off… you had continued on undergoing their humiliations, but worse of all, apologizing for any mistake they made you notice, although half the time it wasn’t your fault, and the other half… you didn’t do it on purpose.

He hated whenever you would apologize with no reason for it.

He desperately had tried to force that attitude away from you, in a calm way, simply trying to make you notice the error of your way, but apparently it wasn’t enough.

He had to use something that would get into your little insecure mind.

He had called you after lunch, making sure that the two cokeheads watched as his arrival accidentally burned their newest stash of purest coke and he made no secret of his link to you.

You never wanted to let your relationship be out in public, so this was a big no against all your rules.

“It wouldn’t be professional” you chanted gently, whenever the argument would be brought up, as he looked at you confused, mostly because he knew how much you liked being taken over the desk at work, but he didn’t dare intervene on such things, preferring to leave you the control of it.

But he had had enough, today.

“Mr Langdon, what did you need me for?” your eyes shone already bright as you closed the door behind you and he settled on his work-chair, preparing yourself to a session of hard sex, knowing all too well that Michael was a man that liked to be pleased at his own orders and commands and who requested extreme discipline.

“(Y/N)” but something broke your mental scenario as you heard him calling you like that.

You usually roleplayed since it was a kink you both shared, mostly if something was going down in the office, but whenever he called by your name not only it meant he wasn’t in the mood to play, but he wanted the true “(Y/N)”, not some doe-eyed and sex-starved secretary as in your shared fantasies.

It also, most of the time, meant trouble.

“Michael” you knew better than to answer with anything other than his name, since it shared some kind of deep intimacy Michael ached for, more than the sex and the thrill.

“… you do realize what you did today, don’t you?”.

You actually didn’t but you also knew that if Michael was using that tone you had done something bad for sure so there was no use in pretending.

“I don’t know, sir, but I am sure that it was something bad” because whenever you were Michael’s “good girl” he wouldn’t have that flaming look.

“Then why don’t we go over your morning?” he replied, mentioning for you to sit onto his lap, something that made you huff a breath of relief, although you knew it wasn’t over.

But the fact that you were allowed to touch Michael was something that made you truly happy, and wouldn’t always be allowed during your punishments, making everything even more hurtful.

“… I came in early as always…” mostly because it would be just you and Michael and more time than not, before he had to give an important discourse, he would love to have a quickie with you, so you had to be there for him… or you might get punished.

(One time you hadn’t been able to come at work because of a terrible stomach flu and hadn’t even been able to raise from the bed to tell the Cooperative that you would be taking a sick day and Michael had strangely surprised you to your apartment.

You had half-expected him to want sex or anything, but he had just explained to you all the research he had done on how to cure stomach flu, parading yourself with an entire pharmacy, and asking whether you felt up to eat something so that he could order someone to cook it for you.

You had tried to excuse your terrible state, but Michael had ignored all your “sorry”s and just pushed you again in bed, gently pushing away your sweat-filled hair from your forehead, meanwhile he cooed you to sleep and relax).

And from that memory you realized what you had done wrong.

“…is this because I said ‘sorry’ too many times?” because Michael had shushed you every time it would happen, mostly when it was about things you couldn’t control, like Jeff and Mutt’s stupidity.

He smirked, but his smile was in no way reassuring.

“Oh, don’t I have a smart girl on my lap?” he praised you and gently leaned down to kiss you, his hand securely lacing though your hair pulling on them lightly, but enough to make you moan in his mouth “… then you’ll know what you get for this”.

You nodded, already trying to make your way to his laps, in order to lay with your tummy flat against his them, but he kept his hold onto your hair tight, keeping you in place.

“… but first I need you to tell me what you did wrong and why it is so wrong”.

His tone was extremely honeyed, and he made sure to look at you in the eyes, another technique that you couldn’t stand, since when he had first met you, you would barely be able to hold his gaze, and although it still embarrassed you, mostly during sex, you had gotten better.

And Michael didn’t mind the little blush on your cheeks.

He actually cherished it.

“I showed no concern for my own physical and mental health, letting those two idiots…” Michael’s grin grew bigger, since before him you wouldn’t have even brought yourself to think even something remotely wrong about your colleagues, but he had influenced you, in some way…

… well it truly showed that he could corrupt even the purest of souls.

“Continue, (Y/N)”.

You trembled at the mention of your name, and he gently pushed a kiss onto your forehead: the stillness in his movement acting as some kind of calm before the storm.

“… and I let them bully me, and most importantly I acted as if it was my fault for every mistake they had done, hence apologizing uselessly and degrading myself to a position that doesn’t belong to me”.

“What is your natural position, lovely?” he asked and grabbed strongly onto your chin, making you face him, feeling the slight warmth of your heated cheeks.

“By your side, on your lap or down on my knees…” you replied, without thinking, something that pleased Michael to his oblivion, since he was rather glad that his pet knew her place “… solely belonging to you”.

“That is a good answer, sweetheart” he mumbled, but his gaze didn’t show any kind of mercy and he didn’t help you in the slightest as you pushed yourself to face the desk, moving your body so that your arms could rest onto it, meanwhile you moved away from Michael’s lap, pushing your toes to meet the ground and stay there.

Then your spread your thighs, although you didn’t dare to remove your skirt.

It was a frilly thing that Michael had gotten you for a day-event you had attended with him.

He hadn’t minded too much about the design or the price the most important thing to him was the easy access of the entire thing, barely needing for Michael to raise it and push your underwear apart to enter you.

…had you worn panties.

Which didn’t happen today.

Michael snickered at your improper condition and gently mouthed a small kiss onto your shoulder, over the silky fabric of your blouse, and then he blew some soothing air in your ear, making you shiver, the perfect occasion for him to remind you to stay still.

“I’ll need you to count…” he whispered in your ear, gently palming your perfect ass, a little lighter than the rest of your body, almost as a proof of your innocence, which he couldn’t wait to taint “… or I’ll lose the count and end up being a bit too rough, understood, lovely?”.

You nodded, but to Michael it wasn’t enough and pulled again on your hair.

“… yes, sir” you mumbled, and he welcomed your obedience with a caress on your lower back, which, although had some kind of calming effect, it didn’t make you less aware of what was going to happen.

“They’ll be fifteen slaps” he explained to you, meanwhile he got the skirt completely out of the way and you gripped onto the edge of his desk “… one for each time you said ‘sorry’, today“.

You rolled your eyes (you were almost thankful that he couldn’t see your face) at the thought that he had actually counted them.

You knew it pissed him off, but you didn’t expect him to get this serious about it, although it all worked in your favor, seeing as you could already feel wetness between your thighs and arousal pool in your stomach, making you quite excited.

You already knew it would have been a tough session, it always happened when you weren’t roleplaying.

But you were ready for it.

You almost ached for it.

“Understood, sir”.

The first slap was always the hardest one, and not because Michael could be vicious, but more because of the surprise effect it always had, not matter the fact that you knew it would be coming.

You swallowed and Michael hung his hand back, waiting for your response which came in a low squeal, mumbling “one” and a “thank you, sir”.

He smirked satisfied and leaned closer to you, who immediately shifted lightly away from him, again for the surprise and anxiety than for the actual hurt, which was soothed by his big hand, gently palming it.

“Good girl…” he mumbled in your ear, before he laid there a kiss, his hair tickling your shoulder.

The praise and the tickling sensation made you giggle, but another slap shushed you, pushing you further away on the desk.

The came an another.

And a fourth one.

Fifth and sixth where were you got used to the feeling, the constant burn of your ass, dulling a bit the following hits, meanwhile wetness kept on dribbling from your cunt

As you went to reach your tenth slap, you were lightly overwhelmed, since Michael had slapped your cunt instead of your ass, on the previous, making you yelp at the pleasurable pain and you were sure that one of your manicured nail had etched itself on his desk, at the sudden wave of pleasure.

You tried to calm your breath but the tenth was too sudden, again hitting your clit and setting it on fire and you screamed more out of instinct than actual thought:

“Yellow”.

Yellow was the color to make Michael slow down and he did, gently pushing himself away from you, meanwhile you took some deep breaths, trying to shift away your focus from your cunt and ass, both aching, but for different reason, hence making you even more confused and overwhelmed.

Michael brushed some strands of hair away from your face and solely in that moment you realized they were drenched with sweat, and your bottom lip being not only swollen from your compulsive biting, but also wet due to the saliva that had gotten on it.

“Was it too much” he asked, trying to keep his tone even and neutral.

He wanted to seem distanced, as he always did when you would either say your safe-word.

He thought that he could pretend he didn’t care, but you knew all too well he did.

He would hug you a bit too tight after those session, worried that you might run away.

“No, I just need a breather” you commented as soon as you regained your voice, calming yourself from the messy sensations going through your body, trying to focus on regaining control over it, meanwhile Michael gently caressed your back.

“I am ok, you can start again, sir” you commented once you felt comfortable again, gently setting down so that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the stomach by Michael’s laptop onto the desk.

He set himself up behind you, again, but before he went on to carry on the rest of the punishment he pulled you against him and not only you felt his breath against your ear, but you understood that you weren’t the only one affected by this situation, feeling him gently press his hard length against you.

“Do I have to avoid something, (YN)?” again your name meant that he was serious, and you just shook your head, but Michael needed again vocal confirmation.

“No, I am fine” and when he searched your eyes, you added “... seriously”.

At the start of your relationship you had used the harsh sex and the punishments as a way to cope with some awful things that had been going through you, hence it had been extremely painful for you, enough that although you should have safe-worded, you hadn’t.

This had reached a point that broke you internally, and Michael had known it…

… and he had brought you back from it.

He knew that he was supposed to be happy of your broken and corrupted soul, but he had realized that you didn’t deserve it.

And that was the moment he had realized that he loved you.

And would cherish you and protect you to the end of the world.

“… then you have five more, don’t you”.

You nodded your head eagerly, opening your mouth to answer him and he made you close it with a harsh slap, although he avoided your cunt this time, hitting the fullness of your blossom, so the hit was less painful.

The twelfth wasn’t, since he hit were the skin was more red and hurt, and you were sure that his handprint would already show on your ass and they would remain for even the following day.

You didn’t mind it.

The thirteenth was also strong and the fourteenth was slowed only by Michael’s own hand hurting, and it stilled on your ass, slowly moving to cup your cunt, making you gasp lowly and you closed your eyes at the sudden sensation of pleasure, already ready for the fifteenth slap to end this torment.

Would you have to beg Michael for the sweet release, or would he have given it to you as a reward?

“Sometimes I wonder whether I am truly punishing or indulging your little flaws” he mumbled, against your ear.

You could feel his hand being left in the air, halfway through meeting your ass, and you closed your eyes, squeezing them together, already ready for the pain.

But the fifteenth slap was a simple pat on your ass.

Which didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt, since your ass was irritated and swollen, but wasn’t what you expected, showing you a softness which was unusual with Michael, but you knew he held just for you.

It was what had brought you back after you had been thoroughly broken.

Michael wasn’t careful with you as a china-doll but he surely knew better than you your body.

“… but I also can’t deny that this has some kind of allure to me too” he said as he cupped your cunt and collected some wetness from there, swiftly turning you around and pushing you onto the desk, his laptop effectively burying and marking your back, but you didn’t care.

Not as Michael tasted you as if you were his favorite meal, gently swirling his tongue around his finger in a show of tongue that almost got impressed in your mind, and made you ignore his question.

This time a light tap was delivered to your thigh making you bite down onto your tongue and Michael sent you a harsh glare, although he did repeat what he asked of you.

“Why did I punish you pet?”.

“Because I put my health to risk, undervaluing myself” you knew it.

It was hard to fight that sense when you just felt so damn insecure all the time.

But slowly Michael was making it all better.

“It wasn’t you who was bad, was it?” he mumbled, gently pushing his fingers away from your thighs, moving onto your inner thighs, meanwhile he came closer enveloping you gently, being careful to avoid brushing your ass.

“No, it wasn’t me who was bad, it was my actions that were bad”.

“… and bad actions always have consequences” he finished softly, before he suddenly sank to his knees, between your thighs, a truly magical sight “… but good ones do also have some consequences. Are you ready pet for your reward?”.

Well this time, all you could say was “thank you”.

---

Tagging some of the few that are on my taglist:

@blakewaterxx @emmyrosee @1-800-bitchcraft @rocketgirl2410 @ladynuwanda @frenchbread4ever @lovelylangdonx @kaetastic @lathraios @rosegoldrichie

[meghanayar]

How CoVID-19 legitimised my greatest obsession

Last year, after a prolonged period of compulsive hand-washing, I walked into my dermatologist’s clinic with an itchy red rash all over my hands. Mercifully, the rash had limited itself to the back of my palms – it hadn’t spread beyond my wrists. It was painful nevertheless, and my incessant trips to the wash basin were making it even worse.

The dermatologist, who is familiar with my skin-abuse shenanigans, took one look at the abstract art of my making and asked me, “How many times do you wash your hands with soap every day?”

It took me a whole minute of kindergarten-style finger counting to reach a figure. “About 18 to 20 times a day,” I ventured nervously.

She sighed in Dolby digital and shot me the look of a disappointed parent. “You have been torturing your poor hands,” she admonished me. “Which sane person does this? I am a doctor who deals with infections all day and even I don’t wash my hands so often!”

I gulped. I had known all along that my hand-washing was on the excessive side, bordering on maniacal. But I hadn’t anticipated that it would lead to dermatitis i.e. an actual skin ailment that requires medication to heal, not to mention enormous reserves of self-control.

I stepped out of the clinic with the guilt of an alcoholic. As instructed by the doctor, I picked up a huge-ass bottle of Cetaphil hand wash on the way home. The gratuitous soaping and foaming had to stop. It was rehab time.

Alas, this was easier said than done.

Cetaphil is, for all practical purposes, a poor step-sister of soap. It may be well-intentioned and gentle as a mother’s touch but it simply refuses to lather. No matter how much of it I poured onto my hands, it always left me feeling unaccomplished. If washing hands was my orgasm, I was pulling out too soon. It always left much to be desired.

Six months of hard work later, I had almost made truce with my OCD demons. I still hated my soulless saviour but continued to use it nevertheless. Soap had been minimised, sanitizers banished. With a little help from an imported hand cream that costs two and a half kidneys and contains organic shea butter mixed with the soul of a 14th-century saint, I had succeeded in keeping the dermatitis from making a return visit.

But, but, but – guess what was fated to happen just as I was learning to make peace with my wash-time nemesis? The coronavirus outbreak.

That’s right. There is a potent virus in the air now, people are rushing to make their wills, supermarkets have run out of toilet paper, and it is suddenly okay to soap away to glory.

After spending six months trying to break my cray-cray habit of turning my hands into sandpaper, I am now told that I can happily revert to my masochistic ways. Wash your hands with soap, often and thoroughly, says the PSA pasted outside my dermatologist’s clinic – the same dermatologist who had warned me that my skin would peel away if I did not stop tormenting it with antibacterial concoctions.

Life has taken a U-turn.

For years now, I have suffered from an overwhelming urge to wash my hands at the smallest pretext. Dumped a day-old laundry in the machine? Wash hands. Touched an elevator grill? Wash hands. Picked up a pair of (clean) socks? Wash hands. Touched my scalp? A currency note? The laptop keypad? The screen of my phone? Wash hands.

I generally wash my hands before dinner, and after dinner, and then again after cleaning the kitchen slab, and then one last time after dumping the dishes in the sink. If a stroke of bad luck (such as our domestic help Sakubai’s quarterly home trip) requires me to do the dishes, add in another couple of rounds of hand washing. Add to this the monthly annoyance of my period or seasonal troubles such as the flu and you have a frenzied woman who’ll spend half her waking hours rigorously disinfecting her palms.

I have always been aware that though this affliction of mine sounds amusing to hear of, it has the potential to snowball into a chronic disorder and reduce me to dysfunction. I have read accounts of people grappling with extreme OCD who find it impossible to conduct even the most mundane tasks without sanitizing and re-sanitizing their environs. I have always feared that if my reflexes are not consciously rewired, I might end up just like them.

And this fear was exactly the reason why I worked diligently over six months to tackle my misophobia. Because, what if I eventually morphed into a female Sheldon Cooper? What if being a germaphobe led me to fixing a ‘spot’ on the couch, or eating spaghetti every Thursday for the rest of my life, or worse still, creating bowel movement schedules? Holy crap on a cracker, I did not want to become that person.

So here I am now, freshly reformed. But in a curious twist of fate, I am now being encouraged to walk right back into my addiction.

All around me, I see people feverishly rubbing their palms with scented alcohol. My neighbours are moving around in N95 masks. The soap dispenser in our bathroom is perpetually in need of a refill. Even the security guard downstairs, who used to make a trip to the toilet and back in three minutes flat, now takes a good quarter of an hour.

Where does this leave me? Had I been the old me, I might have ripped the skin off my bones by now. But in my born-again avatar, I am no longer paranoid like I used to be. I still wash my hands more often than the average person does, but I am no longer precariously close to sanitary insanity.

It is difficult to predict how the CoVID-19 situation is likely to evolve in India in the coming weeks. But if the rate at which cases are presently mounting is any indication, things are likely to hit their peak in a matter of days. John Keynes did mention that in the long run we are all dead, but did he define exactly how long the run was going to be? For all we know, the run has run its course and we are about to be clean-bowled.

Given how uncertain our future is, just how much sense would it make to resist soapy temptations at this juncture? Should I maintain my newfound resist-dermatitis-till-I-die stance when I may actually die of resisting dermatitis? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to surrender to the lure of foam and froth if that is more likely to keep me alive, itchy blisters notwithstanding?

I have been mulling over this predicament for a bit, and have finally come to the conclusion that if my life risks being truncated by a rogue virus, abstinence is pointless. What use are pretty hands on a dead woman? If I am to die soon, I would rather soak in the soapgasms while I can.

Throwing caution to the virus-infested wind, I enter the bathroom now. I see the soap dispenser winking at me, turning me on harder than a porn star would an incel. Cetaphil is sulking from a distance but I ignore its death stare. I walk up to the basin, reach out for the soap – 100% chemical-laced, with all the sulfates and parabens in the world – and press hard, rubbing my hands in unrestrained glee.

My palms are soon covered with a familiar foam that my senses have long been lusting for. A feeling of total satiation takes over my senses, combined with a heady sense of release relief. I haven’t felt this excited disinfected in months.

As the great Rumi once said:

I’ll submit happily to the dance of death, I don’t want a second chance.

But while we wait for the end of the world, please let me wash my hands.

[tcdarkeststorms]

Story #1: “I got your back.”

I’m gonna be sick… 

His breathing was ragged, sinking in on himself more as he looked about the room he was in. Medical equipment all over, some of it trailing back to him. He glared at the clip on his finger, half tempted to flick it across the room.

Anything was better than being stuck here. 

Deep breaths, Cade. You can do this. You just gotta fake it till you make it. Make it clear you’re fine and then get the heck outta dodge!

Being brought to the ER was not what he wanted out of his weekend. That much was for certain. But an extremely high fever and being up all night with a stomachache didn’t help either. 

He wasn’t sure where his mother was at the moment. She went to go talk to someone and that was it as far as he was concerned. He… had been pretty checked out when the nurse checking him in looked him over.

That twinge in his side got his attention as he rolled into it, curling up in a ball. 

Just please, please let me go home-

“Excuse me?” A familiar voice caught his attention, looking up at the curtains drawn around this particular section of the ER bay. 

… Crap and a half you have to be kidding me right now. Of all days…

Before Cade could respond the curtain parted, allowing him to see who was dropping in on him. 

The doctor’s eyes widened before he turned his head, glaring at someone Cade couldn't make out.

“Some heads up would’ve been nice y’know!” He called out before shaking his head. “Tch.” He turned to Cade, crossing his arms. “What’s going on?”

“Markus…” Cade grimaced, sitting up a little. “You didn’t say you were working today…”

Markus’ gaze faded into concern at how pale the kid was. Normally he was almost perpetually tanned from how much time he spent in the sun but his skin was pale and sickly appearing. 

“We’ll catch up after I examine you. Mom?”

“Mom. Swear, she’s freaking out for no reason. I feel great.” He insisted.

Markus shook his head, grabbing his stethoscope from his pocket.

“Mm-hm. We’ll see about that.”

Cade grumbled a little, falling quiet as Markus started to examine him. It took a few minutes, as he made notes on his datapad.

“Temperature of one hundred and two…” He stepped back, his gaze narrowing, a hand resting on his chin. “Anything you wanna fill me in on the last few days? Because this chart the nurse was so kind to put together for me says you’ve been having stomach pain and nausea.”

Crap and a half…

The teenager chose not to respond to that, instead pulling out his phone. It was a bratty move and he knew it. 

Markus sighed, making his way over. 

“Let me check your stomach just real fast. I only listened.”

“You’re being as overprotective as Levi is y’know.” 

“That’s called tough love, Bro.” 

Markus pressed onto various areas of the boy’s abdomen… until he got to his right side.

Cade let out a sharp gasp, covering his mouth with both hands, trying not to make much noise.

“W-Whoa…” He moved them away immediately, helping him lie back. “Hey, easy there… Scale of one to ten?”

“Eight… I guess…” 

Markus frowned, stroking his hair, guilt bubbling up. He was trying to keep it compartmentalized. The doctor away from the older brother…

But this hurt him too. Even if it was to diagnose him he didn’t want to cause his brother pain. 

Sure, he could be a pain when he visited home. (Especially with that trumpet…) But he never wished ill on the kid. Never. 

“We’re gonna transfer you upstairs. See if we can slow this down with antibiotics first.”

“What do you think I have?” Cade asked, his voice going quiet as the realization of his situation was settling in.

THIS was his worst case scenario coming to life in front of him.

Markus took a deep breath.

“Appendicitis.”

He was rushed right through from there. Before he knew it, he was in a quiet room in the pediatric ward, overlooking the fountain outside of Concordia.

It would’ve been a nice view and maybe relaxed him… if it wasn’t for all the talk he kept hearing.

“I’ll come by in about a half hour with some stronger antibiotics. I promise, I’m gonna be in charge of his care, Mom. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“Markus, you are an angel.Thank you so much. Though… What do you think the odds are of the antibiotics working?”

“If they don’t slow down the inflammation, I’ll perform an appendectomy. I just need your consent, in case his condition changes overnight.”

Surgery, blood, needles… uuuugh….

oooooo

Markus sighed in relief, the second he made it back to the ward, hurrying for Cade’s room, antibiotic drip in hand. He wasn’t sure what to make of how Cade was reacting to all of this… or the attitude he was giving him downstairs. 

Maybe it could be blamed on being sick but this wasn’t his first time not feeling well either. 

Is… he mad at me? 

Nah… Cade’s just barely 13. He’s not like that. He’s just grouchy cause he’s in pain. This’ll help though. 

He knocked briskly on the doorway before heading in.

“Hey, Little Bro, you still up?” 

Cade was out of bed, sitting on the windowsill, looking down at the fountain. He looked to the reflection of Markus in the window and scrunched his nose up.

Markus took a deep breath, going over to him, touching his shoulder gently.

“Cade? I need you to get back in bed for a few. I got your medicine.”

Cade’s eyes trailed to the drip, his eyes widening, a sharp gasp escaping. 

“NO!” He yelped.

“Hey, hey, easy…” Markus squeezed his shoulder. “It’s just an IV drip. This is routine.”

He didn’t respond, looking out the window, bringing his knees to his chest.

Markus was taken aback by this. Cade had NEVER reacted like that before.

This isn’t even the first time I treated him for something. Sure, taking a few days off to make sure his flu didn’t get too bad isn’t the same but… he knows me.

“Cade?” He set the equipment on the night table, kneeling to his level. “Cade, please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’re gonna call me a baby or think I’m being stupid. Or you’ll just do it anyway.” 

…  So that’s what’s on his mind.

It was matching up to some of the other kids he treated. It wasn’t his first time having pediatric patients lash out at the idea of getting a needle of some kind or being afraid of being hospitalized.

Markus kicked himself for not realizing this sooner.

“You’re afraid of needles.” 

It wasn’t a question. 

Cade nodded silently, not looking at him. 

“Then all that denial downstairs… You’re afraid of needing injections and IVs if you need surgery after all, isn’t it?”

“... Yeah… and bleeding a lot too…”

Markus let out a long sigh, extending his arm to him.

“C’mere…”

Cade hesitated before he brought his arms around Markus, huddling close, hissing a little when he did so. Markus brought his arms around him, stroking his back.

“Shh…”

“I know it’s irrational. I know it’s stupid-”

“It’s not stupid. You think I like giving shots?”

“... No…”

Markus shook his head, bringing him to arm’s length, his eyes full of concern.

“I’m not doing any of this because I think it’s fun, or because I think I’m being sneaky for all the trumpet related antics over the years. I’m doing it because as a doctor first, I need to treat any patient that comes my way.”

Cade looked away, keeping quiet.

Markus tilted his chin in his direction so their eyes met, his gaze softening.

“You’re still my brother. I don’t want you to hide ANYTHING from me. That scares me if you think you can’t talk to me about this stuff.”

“... Does it hurt?” He asked quietly, his voice shaky. 

“Not at all. I have to disinfect the area with gel and antibiotic gel has an anesthetic in it.” He smiled a little. “I’ve given a lot of IVs to kids who hate needles and not a single complaint. I won’t miss the vein or anything.”

“What about shots?”

“There’s a lot of numbing creams and I can still use the gel too. If I have to operate, I’ll make it clear on your chart that you have an issue with needles as a whole so they’ll HAVE to take special precautions.” Markus stroked his hair, ruffling it up a little, earning a small chuckle in return. “I can do everything in my power to make it as painless as I can.”

Cade took a deep breath, bringing his arms back around his brother, his knees buckling a bit.

Markus held him tightly, lifting him up and onto his bed.

“I just need you to trust me.” 

Cade went quiet before hesitantly offering his arm. 

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Markus went right to work from there, keeping his brother distracted the whole time. The boy didn’t even notice when the needle slipped in once he got started. 

“And… there we are. Nice and secure.” He sat on the edge of his bed. “How’d I do?”

Cade felt the area where it lead into, genuinely surprised.

“It… didn’t hurt.”

“See?”

He smiled, yawning a little. 

Markus pushed on Cade’s shoulder, laying him down.

“I think it’s time you went to bed kiddo.”

“Stay till I fall asleep?”

“What kind of big brother would I be if I left you all alone?” 

“Levi.”

Markus snorted, making a mental note to torment their middle brother later with that anecdote.

Goofy kid…

oooooo 

In the end, the antibiotics didn’t work as intended. Markus still needed to perform the operation.

Though, as promised, he made arrangements so Cade, as far as he knew, wouldn’t even remember half of the process aside from the initial prep. 

“Is he normally like that?” Valerie asked, looking up from scrubbing in, into the OR. 

Cade was laid out on the table, a dazed expression on his face, ignoring everything around him. 

“I had the nurse give him a mild sedative to start off. That way we can avoid any anxiety issues.” Markus replied, as he finished. “Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

They stepped up to the table.

“You doing okay there?”  He asked. “Anything off?”

Cade looked up, grinning tiredly.

“Feel pretty good actually. Not loopy either…” He sighed in relief. “Thanks big brother.”

Markus smiled softly under the mask. 

“Anything for you.” He looked to Valerie giving a nod.

She nodded, coming up to the other side of the table, administering the anesthesia.

“Wait… She’s not Nigel…” He mumbled, before he drifted off. 

“... Excuse me?”

“Nothing! Scalpel?”

Note to self: Octodad and sedatives DO NOT MIX.

oooooo

Cade bounced back pretty fast after the procedure. He was still hospitalized until his scar healed over more but he was more like himself then he had been in awhile. 

“Oh, come on!”

“Absolutely NOT!”

Valerie raised an eyebrow, poking her head in. Markus and Cade were glaring each other down, the kid having his hands firmly around an instrument case. 

“Give it to me. Right now.”

“Heck no! I gotta practice!”

“In the ward!? Forget it!”

“You were cool when you were being all “I’m your big brother, it’s my job to take care of you.” Well you ain’t doing a good job of it now!”

Markus groaned in frustration, rubbing his temple. 

“Fine. But if you so much as let out one note, I’m taking it and giving it to Levi to hold onto.”

Cade gulped.

“Duly noted.”

Markus looked over to Valerie, hurrying over.

“Everything okay?” She asked.

“Ooooh just peachy.” Markus mumbled. “Just realizing I’m putting a ban on trumpets if I ever have kids.”

“Hah. How bad could he be? He’s a lot livelier than before.”

Markus gave her a sour look as they walked down to the elevator.

Valerie held up her hands in surrender.

“Okay, point taken, trumpets in the ward is a terrible idea.”

“Mm-hm. What do you got for me today?”

Valerie grimaced, handing a chart over to him. 

“... 205. And… of course.”

I’m gonna kill Dr. Rousseau-...

Markus had an idea… An awful idea.

He was going to hear about it from the higher ups later. 

oooooo 

“STOP FOLLOWING ME!”

The music might’ve been pleasant, had Cade actually been playing properly. He knew how… He also knew every darn way to make a trumpet sound like it was being murdered. Currently, he was playing “death noises” from a video game as he followed Luke Rousseau around, blasting as happily as he could. Keeping in mind as soon as they got near patient rooms he’d have to cut it out.

The area where most of the private offices were? Free game. 

Markus bit his lip, trying so very hard not to laugh, recording it all on his phone. 

Luke threw a glare in his direction.

“IS THIS YOURS?!” He shouted over the furious playing that just continued. 

“WHAT?” Markus called over it, grinning. “I CAN’T HEAR YOU!”

“I SAID-”

DOOOOOOOT!

Luke glared Markus down before storming off for his office. Cade made it about halfway down before Markus caught up to him, slapping a twenty in his hand.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He threw an arm around his shoulder, smiling fondly. “You did good today.”

“I can come by anytime you need to tick him off.”

“When your follow up exam happens. I could use some Rise of the Valkyries or Ragtime.”

“Ragtime’s worse. Known to cause actual insanity.”

“Ragtime it is… Though, we’ll probably have to get everyone earplugs… and some apology food.”

“Long as I get my other half of the torture payment.”

Markus snorted, guiding him back. As soon as he noted some of the other doctors glaring at him, he put on his best “stern” look, swiping the instrument.

“Now, I told you not to even THINK about doing that! You are in SO much trouble young man!”

“Oh, bite me!”  Cade played along, reaching for it, letting Markus catch his wrist, marching him along back to the ward. 

Soon as they were out of sight, they broke down snickering, leaning on each other to keep upright.

“Okay, it’s official. You’re pretty cool, Big Brother.” Cade laughed, wiping away a tear.

“So are you kiddo. So are you.”

“So… How much can you extend this little vacation from school?”

“Pffft. Mom would kill us both and if not Yaya would.”

“... That’s fair. That’s totally fair.”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

I think it would be very interesting to explore in a story how Claire would cope if she had to recover from a serious injury/accident/whatever and would be limited in her abilities for some time. She usually is always the one who heals other people and it would be quite the challenge for her to be a patient for a change.

It’s been a long battle but I think I finally conquered the writer’s block I’ve faced with the last stretch of this middle part to The Tagalong. Fingers crossed that the writing of it continues smooth through to the end. ~ Lenny

Fergus disobeys Jamie’s order to return to Lallybroch and instead follows them all the way to Craigh na Dun, inadvertently following Claire through the stones.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven

The Tagalong - Part Twelve

Thank goodness for Fergus, Claire thought as she listened to him reading to Brianna in the other room. It was impossible for her to sit up without her head spinning and her stomach lurching. But if she didn’t at least make the effort it was impossible to breathe.

She had called Mrs. Graham who had immediately offered what help she could but there was only so much the older woman could do. She’d brought soup and other food that only needed a little heating in the oven—which Fergus could handle, though Claire knew he must mutter about it—and Mrs. Graham had also taken a bit of laundry back with her to the manse, promising to return it the next day when she came to check in on them again.

It was also, thankfully, the weekend and Claire was off of work. Fergus had only a little schoolwork to complete. And Brianna had finished cutting a new tooth and was back to being her babbling and cooperative self.

But in truth, Claire was too physically miserable to give any concern more than a cursory consideration. She just wanted—needed—to sleep and get over whatever flu it was that somehow managed to leave her both shivering and sweating at the same time.

She dozed, waking when she heard a faint knock near the door.

She squinted to find Fergus standing with Brianna in his arms, squirming to get down.

“Where are les couches?”

Claire sighed then began to push herself up to a sitting position. She had to pause before she found the strength to move her legs around to the side of the bed and pause again with her head between her knees to make stop the room spinning.

“Mamamama,” Brianna cried, lunging for Claire and causing Fergus to lurch in order to maintain his hold of her.

“I’m coming, Bree,” Claire croaked but once he’d regained a firm footing, Fergus hefted Brianna into a more secure hold and shook his head, stepping back as Claire made it to her feet and began to approach.

“Non, Mother Claire,” he scolded. “You must return to bed and rest. I can take care of Bree and will see her put to bed.”

“It’s fine, Fergus,” Claire insisted, trying to clear her throat but triggering a coughing fit instead. As she turned away to avoid coughing on her children, a whiff of Brianna’s soiled diaper made it through her clogged nasal passages and sent her running for the bathroom.

The cool, smooth floor and the chill of the porcelain basin were reassuringly solid beneath her trembling body. She decided to stay there for a while rather than confirm her fears that the only way she could reach her bed again would be if she crawled. She thought she’d heard Brianna crying but when she focused enough to listen she heard only silence. Lying down and pulling a bath towel over her like a blanket, she told herself she would need to ask Fergus about the contents of Brianna’s diaper, a brief bolt of fear shooting through her that her young and vulnerable daughter might contract the flu that was tormenting her. While her own symptoms had begun as a cold, there were some for whom digestive issues were the first sign of illness.

Sleep claimed her before her fear for Brianna grew to encompass Fergus’ welfare too.

It was impossible for her to tell how long she’d been on the floor of the bathroom when she roused again—not to vomit but because of a cramp in her leg from how she’d been lying. Her stomach felt settled enough for her to attempt returning to bed once the feeling had returned to her leg. She sat up and slowly shifted on the floor, her foot knocking something in the process.

She found a plate with dry toast and a glass of water—her foot having knocked the plate and missed the glass. There was a note as well, though she couldn’t read it in the dark. Of course, it wasn’t as though Brianna could have left it for her.

The water first—just a few sips. It both soothed and tickled her throat so that she nearly had another coughing fit. But the liquid settled comfortably in her stomach so she drank a little more and waited again. A wave of violent hunger washed over her as the intake of water triggered her stomach’s need for more. The toast was cold and plain and delicious. She nibbled it cautiously, struggling to take her own professional advice not to overdo it. When there was nothing left but the crumbs, she reached the plate and cup up to rest them on the edge of the counter and pulled herself to her shaking feet.

She was still chilled—the towel hadn’t been as warm a blanket as she needed—but she could move again without waves of nausea knocking her back to her knees. And though there remained a fog in her head, it no longer pressed in on her nose and eyes with the painful pressure that had been there before.

For the first time in a day and a half Claire could smell enough to smell herself. She smelled of vomit, even though she couldn’t find any traces on her person—to be frank, she didn’t have the energy to look very hard. The thought of a bath was nice. The steam should help with her lingering congestion and the heat would soothe the achy feeling in her limbs.

She should clean up a bit first. The plate and cup needed to be returned to the kitchen and based on the light, it was the middle of the night. She should check on Fergus and Brianna, ensure there was something Fergus could easily make for their breakfast in a few hours. Mrs. Graham wouldn’t be by again until midday but Fergus should be able to keep Brianna fed, cleaned, and occupied until then.

Had the kitchen always been so far from her bedroom?

By the time she reached the kitchen sink, she was afraid she’d drop the glass and plate and shatter them against whatever else might be in there so she simply left them on the counter before sinking to the floor and resting her forehead against the cool surface of the cabinetry that shielded the pipes. If it felt so cool to her touch, she must still be quite feverish. Or perhaps she felt so weak because she needed more to eat. The toast and water were all she’d managed to keep down in what must be close to two days.

A bit more toast and she’d have the energy to move again. The loaf of bread was still right near the toaster from when Fergus had made what he’d left for her in the bathroom. She only needed to stand… and lean against the counter. Better yet, sit on the floor some more while it cooked.

Fergus shook her shoulder and whispered harshly in her face. “What are you doing out here, Mother Claire? You are going to burn the house down if you take not more care.”

Claire blinked and gasped, started from her doze and then she coughed as the lingering wisps of smoke crawled down her throat and into her lungs.

Fergus had removed the singed toast from the toaster and set them on a plate near the window to be tossed out for the birds in the morning. Claire would have scoffed if she weren’t fighting to control her coughing and the gag reflex that it threatened to trigger. The toast wasn’t that badly burned and the smoke that it had created was little more than what might rise from the wick of a blown out candle. Besides, the toaster had done what it was supposed to and had popped the bread up when it was done—it was only the lower edge closest to the still-hot coils that were a bit singed.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Claire asked, her throat scratchy from all the coughing. She pulled herself to standing and attempted to look down at Fergus, reinforcing her authority as the parent. Except she didn’t have to look down far. He’d shot up more in his recent growth spurt than she’d realized. It wouldn’t be long before her surpassed her in height.

“I heard you banging out here as you had your fight with the toaster,” he explained.

She had had difficulty getting the bread into the thing in the near dark but she thought she’d been quieter about it.

“Are you feeling well again, Mother Claire?” Fergus asked, his eyes narrowing at her. “Did you eat what I left for you?”

“Yes,” she responded in a hissed whisper. “And it did me good so I thought I would make a little more for myself to eat. I can’t keep lying in bed when you and Bree—”

“Bree and I will be better with you in bed than with you in l’hopital,” he scolded. “Is it not you who always say not to do so much when you are ill as it will take longer for you to recover?”

Claire desperately wanted to protest but she couldn’t argue with herself and Fergus knew it only too well.

“Back to your bed with you,” he ushered her out of the kitchen. “I will make you edible toast and bring more for you to drink.”

“There should be some oatmeal in the cupboard for you to make parritch for your breakfast,” Claire explained as she accepted defeat. “And Mrs. Graham will stop by in time for luncheon. If you have trouble getting Bree dressed or if she fusses at all—”

“I can take care of my women,” Fergus assured her firmly, ignoring her as she rolled her eyes. “I will do what Milord would if he were here, and he would see you put to bed and made to rest.”

Claire couldn’t have found words to argue with him even if she’d wanted to. He led her to her bed and indeed, tucked her in when she was beneath the covers.

She caught his wrist before he left.

“Milord would be very proud of you right now,” she told him. “Thank you, Fergus. For taking such good care of me and of your sister.”

“Milord would be amazed I convinced you without more of a fight,” Fergus admitted with a laugh. “Go to sleep now, maman. I will leave something for you when you awake.”

[miraculouscontent]

Have you written anything about what specifically you dislike about Gigantitan? I tried searching for it on my own, but Tumblr Is Not A Functioning Website

I haven’t talked about it much at the time of posting, so don’t worry, you didn’t miss anything.

“Gigantitan” is my least favorite episode of Miraculous from a strict watchability standpoint, being the only episode that I wanted to quit watching outright (and would’ve had I not been watching with someone else). There are episodes that have worse writing from a plot/character view, but “Gigantitan” is the only episode that I firmly believe has no value whatsoever.

[Lolliplot]

I have no problem with filler in concept. Filler can actually be very important to a show’s runtime, letting shows rake in some more views for the more high-budget episodes by filling in story gaps with fun little snippets about nothing.

But this episode isn’t fun. It’s just nothing.

Let’s start with what this episode actually offers for future plot points. Firstly, it confirms JARM (Juleka, Alix, Rose, and Mylene) being already aware of the fact that Marinette has a crush on Adrien.

We didn’t need to know this. Everyone could’ve guessed that anyone in the class already knew. If I’d skipped this episode completely and seen “Frozer”, I wouldn’t have batted an eye at JARM already knowing and making suggestions about what Marinette should do about Adrien.

The other thing this episode does is show that an akuma can switch targets, which happens later in “Zombizou” anyway. Not only that, but I don’t know how genuine this moment even is, because it’s just a “comedic” ploy to get a reaction out of Hawk Moth. I can see the result in two ways: either this is relevant because this is going to happen later (actually making this episode pointless because it’s going to happen in a later episode) or this was a one-off and no one will ever know if it was a legitimate thing or a comedic detail.

It just leaves me confused.

Point being, I don’t want to hear brags from the writing staff about how this season has “no filler” because it’s a cheap way to generate hype when all they really did was sprinkle in crumbs of establishing plot into this particular episode. If one were to ask the question, “Why couldn’t it be established that they know about Marinette’s crush in a different episode?”, the only answer would’ve been, “Because this episode would’ve been filler otherwise.”

It’s lazy. Simple as that.

[Don’t Cry Me a River]

I don’t talk about myself often on my blog, but I’ll have to say a little bit to get my point across. See, some things I’ve never mentioned about myself before are that my ears are pretty sensitive, my eyes don’t like saturated colors, and I’m easily disgusted (not amused) by gross-out humor.

Already, my next problem with this episode is obvious.

I don’t like babies. I hate them, in fact. Don’t like looking at them, don’t like holding them, and every scream feels like sharp nails being jammed into my brain. They’re gross and loud and I have no maternal instincts whatsoever.

As a baby, August has no personality. He has no traits and his shtick is “he’s a baby.” That’s literally it. He cries, he screams, he’s easily distracted, and he’s completely unintelligent.

An akumatized person isn’t even supposed to be the same exact thing as the person they akumatize, but that’s exactly what Gigantitan is; August, but with powers.

And those colors blind me. The neon pink and green are hideous. One might say that it’s the idea because Hawk Moth akumatized a baby (and those akumatized might get to pick their looks), but that doesn’t change the facts that they didn’t have to akumatize a baby and that the design is still terrible to look at even if there’s a reason for it.

And the model is disgusting. I outright gagged at the scene with Adrien’s bodyguard and the saliva and just–EUGH, EW, GROSS!!

Once the timestamp hits the point where August turns into Gigantitan, it’s nothing by baby humor for eight straight minutes.

And Hawk Moth can’t just, y'know, release the akuma, because that would end the episode.

Hawk Moth’s even been shown to be able to torment his victims to some degree to get them to do what he wants but oh no we can’t have that because it’s a baby.

Personally, I would’ve drop kicked this obnoxious little menace into the Seine like a sack of rotten potatoes.

[Character Dos and Don'ts Except It’s Actually Just Don'ts]

No one has their head on straight in this episode. No one is safe from the “Gigantitan” go-with-what-the-script-says flu.

Alya setting up this huge elaborate plan instead of focusing on Marinette’s actual problems concerning Adrien.

Rose not understanding the flower naming theme despite being rarely shown as incompetent, which is also something no one does anything about because everyone’s so hooked on using codenames.

Adrien’s bodyguard calming down out of nowhere right when the akuma shows up.

Hawk Moth not just releasing the akuma and accepting that this was a bad idea.

Adrien brushing off all of Marinette’s stuttering despite this being a thing he should be concerned about by now and instead just being like “OKAY BYE YOU SEEM STABLE TODAY”

It’s all just set up so the episode goes exactly how the show wants it to and it drives me nuts.

Alya can’t be smart and realize that codenames aren’t a good idea (given Rose’s confusion) or the plan couldn’t mess up in “hilarious” ways.

Hawk Moth can’t do anything intelligent or the episode will just fall apart.

Even just the little things, like the fact that Alix brushes off Marinette’s fear that the boys know about her crush as “nah of course not because they’re boys.” That annoys me because I don’t like the suggestion that the boys are oblivious about love just because they’re boys. This escalates further in “Glaciator” with Ivan and I’m constantly frustrated about it because there’s already a logical, actually sensible reason for JARM to know and none of the boys to: them being closer friends with Marinette and thus seeing more of her than the boys do. I don’t mind specific characters gender-stereotyping, but not when it’s the show itself doing it and imprinting that on the characters themselves to make it true.

On another note, Adrien’s bodyguard is also extra infuriating because he has to get over his rage immediately or he’d be akumatized instead of the baby, which would’ve been actually fun. I’ve said it before, but one of the worst sins an episode can commit is presenting a more fun and/or interesting idea than what they actually go with.

Heck. Adrien’s bodyguard in general is pretty inconsistent. He gets upset about everything going wrong for him, then calms down almost instantly. You’d think the latter is because he sees Adrien, but when Marinette’s talking to him, Adrien’s bodyguard starts honking rudely at them instead of letting Adrien finish a freaking conversation. This is why I hate this guy so much; he’s so inconsistent and constantly swaps between caring about Adrien’s desires and just being irritating.

And, oh boy, that ending scene. I already complained about it in “Treatment of Marinette (Season 2)”, but it drives me up a wall.

Marinette stuttering was not her fault. It was the writing’s. It’s so blatantly obvious, especially on Marinette’s second attempt where she rejects riding home with Adrien.

Yet, the episode still has her friends get annoyed with her. There just comes a point where things stop being Marinette’s fault and start being the writers tripping her up and tugging at her pigtails because “No, bad Marinette, you’re not allowed to make progress even if it’s completely in character for you at this point.”

Marinette goes through this whole plan (and I frankly don’t care if the intention was to get Adrien’s bodyguard in trouble because screw him, honestly), even stopping at one point and almost ruining everything because she wanted to help a baby, and for what?

Nothing. Marinette embarrassed herself in front of her friends, embarrassed herself in front of Adrien, and she gets teased.

I don’t have to wonder why Marinette is constantly fumbling and afraid of screwing up, because her friends and others are always teasing her for being clumsy/stuttering/etc. Alya teases her at the end and Marinette looks so embarrassed at what she’d said, but then the end card just pops up as if we’re supposed to forget about Marinette’s issues and anxiety. They go completely unaddressed and this episode is the worst example I can think of when imagining episodes that try to brush off Marinette’s problems as “you just gotta get it right this time.”

And of course, Alix makes a comment about how Marinette knowing Adrien’s schedule is “creepy.” Like, ‘k, cool, so if she does believe that, what is she gonna do about it? Confront her? Just accept it because she’s her friend and saying anything would’ve forced this episode to not happen?

The is one of the few times Marinette’s schedule (that she has only ever used for purposes of confessing/taking a confession back/tracking down Adrien for crucial reasons) has been brought up, but the show doesn’t want to dwell on it. The show doesn’t seem to want anyone its audience to think about, but it still wants to crack jokes at Marinette’s expense.

And instead of addressing Marinette’s core issues, all five of her friends just waffle around them. If this was actually fun, I probably wouldn’t mind, but with this being the unpleasant experience that it is, I feel like the glaring flaws are constantly being shoved in my face.

[Predictakillity]

This is probably the fourth-ish time I’ve said this in my blog’s lifespan, but one way to send my interest into a downward spiral is when I can predict an episode. There are exceptions, like when I see a scene or hear a particular line and go “Yes! This is probably leading up to [x]”, but most of the time, it’s negative.

And, from start to finish, I could predict this episode. After every scene that happened, I could predict what was going to happen next.

The second I saw this elaborate plan, I knew it wasn’t going to work. Even more insulting was when they threw the fantasy sequence in, because that made it even more obvious. After all, why would they show us what’s going to happen later in the episode instead of building suspense and then having us see the happy moment when it’s actually real?

Not only that, but the fantasy sequence is doubly terrible because it was some top-tier Adrienette and it’s fake. It just brings down the next Adrienette scene that follows it in whatever future episode because now they have to beat “having ice cream together” or it becomes underwhelming.

And that’s exactly what it did, because “Glaciator” was the next episode with Adrienette in it and it had the gall to set up the exact same premise without even letting them have ice cream together. It tore me up too because I knew that’s what they’d do; I knew they weren’t going to show the audience what they wanted to see because the fantasy sequence in “Gigantitan” already showed it. I wanted to be wrong and I wasn’t.

Back to “Gigantitan” itself, most of the jokes and dialog are so drawn out that it felt impossible to not know where things were going to go. They hold on jokes for way too long and everything is so in your face that things become obvious.

The second Rose started messing up the codenames, I knew she was going to be a weak link in the plan.

The moment Juleka got stuck, I knew most of them were going to have to swap jobs and be stuck doing something they weren’t good at.

The instant August appeared on screen (with spoken dialog from the mom, no less), I immediately pointed and said, “That’s who’s getting akumatized.” No amount of Adrien’s bodyguard getting annoyed fooled me because I knew it would be a red herring.

At the very first mention of August wanting a lollipop, I knew that it was going to be important to take him down when he was akumatized.

When the akuma went into August’s bracelet, I knew Hawk Moth would just run with it and wouldn’t give it up.

Even with the lucky charm, which is typically one of my favorite moments in episodes because Ladybug always gets stuck with the most random stuff, I knew what it was for before Ladybug’s Lucky Vision even went off.

And at the final moments of the episode, where Marinette wanted to just get straight to the point, I knew; I knew she wasn’t going to be able to do it. I knew this episode wasn’t going to let her have her moment. I knew her friends would get irritated with her. I knew the writing would just brush it off.

When Marinette’s friends kept asking, “Is she going to do it?”, I was pleading for them to just be quiet because it made the outcome so obvious. Everything’s obvious. When I realized that August was the next akuma victim, I knew that this episode would be nothing but baby humor and gross-out.

I hated that I knew. I didn’t want to know. With every passing minute, I kept begging–hoping–that the episode would throw me some sort of twist.

One wrench in the predictability. One instance where something wasn’t what I expected. One nanosecond where all the characters just looked at each other and went, “Hey, maybe everything that’s going on right now is actually really contrived?”

I got nothing. Once the episode was over, I got into a three hour conversation on why it was the worst thing I’d seen out of Miraculous from an enjoyability standpoint.

And every time Gigantitan shows up as an akuma again, I feel all that annoyance come right back. A full 26 episodes haven’t even passed yet since his episode and Gigantitan has shown up three times.

I hate this episode so much. I hate it because it’s a combination of nearly everything I could hate in an episode.

Character destruction.

Gross-out.

Babies.

Obviousness.

Predictability.

And worst of all, the promise–the set-up–of progress that the protagonist deserves but doesn’t get in the end despite all the garbage they’ve been through and WILL go through.

I think back to this episode and I just find myself unbelievably frustrated. In a way, I feel like I should be glad about how pointless it is. After all, its pointlessness means that I have no reason to ever go back to it.

But also, it didn’t need to exist, and those 22 minutes could’ve been spent doing literally anything else that this season desperately needed.

Instead, it’s 22 minutes of nothing.

[i-am-out-of-my-vulcan-mind]

In Sickness and In Hell

Here’s my next multi chapter fic. I’m really putting poor Jane through the wringer at the moment aren’t I? I’m so mean…

Anyway thank you so much to @lurkingwhump for listening to me drone on about this fic. I truly wouldn’t be able to get anything done if it wasn’t for you <3

Just going to put a bit of a TW in with this. This is for my @badthingshappenbingo prompt “stomach flu” so if you're squeamish don't read ahead.

Jane lay beside her husband, rubbing him softly on his back while he slept. The last eight hours had been hell. She had woken up the night before, only to find Kurt's side of the bed empty.

When she had finally found him, he had been huddled over the toilet retching his guts up.

“I'm ok… go back to bed.” he had said, and Jane had shook her head, falling to her knees beside him.

She had stayed with him on the bathroom floor all night, taking turns between rubbing his back as he was violently ill, and wringing out the washcloth she had placed on the back of his neck.

He had protested, albeit weakly, stating he didn't want her to get sick. She had only shook her head, stating that their vows had said in sickness and in health.

Four hours later, he had finally managed to keep ginger ale down, and Jane had convinced him to move to the bedroom where he would be more comfortable.

She had placed a bucket on the floor beside him, and put a fresh glass of water on his bedside table.

He had fallen asleep quickly, completely drained from his visit with the porcelain God.

**************************************************

Kurt woke some time later, groaning when he tried to roll over.

“How are you feeling?” Jane asked, placing the back of her hand on his forehead.

“Like I've been hit by a truck.” he muttered into the pillow.

Jane smiled, rubbing his shoulder.

“Your fever has broken at least.” she said.

“And I don't feel like I'm going to throw up any time soon.” Kurt continued.

Jane leant forward, kissing him on the forehead.

“I'll get you some Gatorade.” she said, making her way to the kitchen. She returned, helping him sit back against the pillows.

He took the drink off of her, taking a tentative sip. He breathed a sigh of relief, when it hit his stomach, then settled.

“Keep sipping at that.” Jane said. “I'm gonna go make the couch up so we can watch something if you like?”

Kurt smiled. She knew he hated being in bed during the day, whether he was sick or not.

She moved back to the bedroom, helping him out of bed and onto the couch. He was weak, completely spent from the virus he was still trying to fight off. She got him comfortable, before returning to the bedroom to grab the Gatorade and the bucket from the side of the bed.

It was Easter weekend, so they had the next three days off, and Jane was secretly relieved, knowing she would have hated to leave him like this.

****************************************************

They spent the majority of the next day, tangled together on the couch, secretly relishing in the fact that no one wanted to disturb them because they knew Kurt was sick.

Late in the afternoon, Jane was starting to feel a little unwell herself. She shrugged, turning back to the movie, thinking she was probably just worn out. This was the first time in a long time, they had actually spent a couple of days doing nothing. Her body was probably just unsettled because she had finally ‘stopped.’

Another twenty minutes passed, and her stomach was growing notably more upset. She held her breath, trying to ignore the cramps that were starting to rip their way through her system.

“You ok?” Kurt asked, noticing her grimace of pain.

“I'm not sure.” she replied, bringing her hand up to cover her stomach. She exhaled slowly, trying to quell the torment within.

She tensed, as she rode out another wave of pain, a low rumble settling deep in her belly.

“Oh, I think I'm about to be very unwell.” she groaned scrambling to her feet, making a beeline for the bathroom.

Kurt let her go, wanting to give her a little privacy if her stomach revolted at the other end.

A short while later, Jane exited the bathroom, looking pale and miserable.

“You ok?” Kurt asked her again from the kitchen, knowing she probably felt as wretched as she looked.

She shook her head, a defeated smile playing on her lips.

“I think I've caught your bug.” she groaned miserably, taking a seat at the breakfast bar.

“Oh Jane. I'm sorry.” Kurt apologized offering her a glass of ginger ale.

“Don't be.” she said smiling softly. “You told me to keep away and I didnt listen. I knew the risk.” She accepted the ginger ale, taking a tentative sip. “Why do you only get the vomiting though?” she complained, trying to make the situation a little more lighthearted.

Kurt just smiled softly in sympathy, walking around the counter and cupping the side of her head in his hand.

“Guess my body is just stronger than yours.” he said, trying to get a rise out of her.

It worked. She smacked him on the shoulder, before he grabbed her hands and held them to his chest.

“Now now.” he stated.

Jane rolled her eyes, noticing how pale he had become again.

“Why don't you go and sit down?” she suggested. Stronger or not, he was still recovering himself.

Kurt nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Join me?”

Her stomach gurgled loudly. She winced, bringing her hand to clutch at her abdomen as another cramp hit. Kurt place his hand on her shoulder, hoping to give a little comfort as her insides rebelled against her.

She groaned in discomfort, before her eyes widened.

“I think that's me again.” she muttered, heading back towards the bathroom.  

Kurt sighed, staring after Jane. He knew how unwell he had been - and he had only been vomiting. He would take that any day if his wife didn't have to suffer the same fate.

The sound of retching filled the apartment. Frowning, Kurt made his way to the bathroom, knocking softly.

“Jane?” he asked tentatively.

“Don't come in.” she muttered. Kurt sighed, knowing she had started going at both ends.

“Let me know if you need anything.” he said through the door. Not expecting much of a reply, he made his way back to the couch, waiting for his wife to reemerge. He knew she wanted a little privacy, but he would be there if she needed him.

**********************************************

Kurt opened his eyes drowsily. He must have nodded off. He looked at his watch, noticing that a couple of hours had passed. Sitting up, he realised Jane was still missing.

“Damn.” he muttered, getting to his feet and making his way to the bathroom.

“You ok in there?” he asked through the door.

When all he received in response was a weak groan, he opened the door slowly.

“Oh Jane.” he sighed, moving into the bathroom. She was leant over the toilet, her head resting on her arm, eyes closed in exhaustion. She had stripped down to her singlet and had managed to throw her hair into a small bun.

He knelt beside her, rubbing between her shoulder blades gently.

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you off the floor.”

Jane shook her head.

“Not ready.” she grunted out, her arm wrapping around her belly protectively.

“Ok, ok.” he said, turning to grab a washcloth from under the sink. He wet it with cool water and wrung it out, placing it on the back of her neck, just like she had done for him a couple of nights before.

She groaned into the toilet bowl as her stomach churned. Before she knew it, she was vomiting  again, heaving up what little was left in her system. Kurt rubbed her back, wishing he could switch places with her.

She panted heavily when she had finally got herself back under control, whimpering at the pain in her abdomen.

“Here.” he said softly, offering her a glass of water.

Jane took a sip, and then lay exhaustively against Kurt. He kissed her softly on her forehead, frowning slightly at the burning of her skin.

“Ready to go to bed now?” he asked, wanting her to be more comfortable. She nodded in response, not quite sure if she could trust her voice. He stood, bringing her up with him. She groaned, swaying against the dizziness that assaulted her at the change of equilibrium. “Easy.” he murmured, steadying her against his chest.

He guided her to their bedroom, helping her under the covers. Moving to the living room, he grabbed the bucket she had set aside for him earlier, knowing he was no longer at risk of needing it. He also poured her a fresh glass of ginger ale - she needed to start rehydrating sooner rather than later.

When he returned to the bedroom, he sighed at what greeted him. She was curled on her side, her knees brought up to her chest, pain etched into the features of her face. He sat down beside her, rubbing her shoulder softly.

“Something’s not right, Kurt.” she whispered, hugging her arms to her stomach. “You didn’t get cramps this bad.”

Kurt frowned.

“Do you want me to call the doctor?” he asked. Jane wasn’t usually one to complain about pain.

She shook her head.

“Not yet…” she ground out. “It’s probably just a twenty-four hour bug like yours was. It’s just hitting me harder is all.”

“Alright.” he said softly. “You tell me if it gets any worse though.” he added, his concern growing by the moment.

Jane didn't reply. She just shifted, rubbing her stomach uncomfortably.

“Do you think you could try drink a little for me?” he asked, brushing the bangs off her burning forehead.

Jane swallowed thickly. The thought of ingesting anything making her feel nauseated. But she knew she needed to keep her fluid levels up, if she wanted to have any chance of getting over this.

She nodded softly, and Kurt helped her sit up. He winced with her, seeing the pain flash across her face from the change in position.

He grabbed the glass off the nightstand and passed it to her. She reached out with shaky hands, sipping slowly.

Not five minutes after she had managed to drain half of the glass, her eyes grew wide, before squeezing shut. She swallowed convulsively, exhaling slowly.

“You going to be sick again?” Kurt asked knowingly, already reaching for the bucket on the floor. When he didn't receive a response, he helped her sit, rubbing her back as she breathed heavily into the bucket, willing the nausea to just stop.

She lost the battle within seconds, bringing up the ginger ale she had just consumed. Kurt's heart broke, watching her crying out at the pain in her stomach. He was starting to agree that something was definitely wrong. He had been sick, but Jane was right in saying that he never experienced stomach pain as debilitating as she was.

When she was done, he helped her lay back against the pillows, too exhausted to do anything, but try and breathe through the pain. He took the bucket to the bathroom, washing it out, before returning to her. He placed the bucket back on the ground and put a cold washcloth on her forehead.

“You ok for a minute?” he asked.

Jane just nodded softly in reply, hugging her knees back to her chest.

Kurt left the bedroom, looking through his contact list and calling their family doctor.

He told him of Jane's symptoms, and the doctor agreed that they sounded more severe than just a normal stomach bug. He told Kurt he would be over within the next hour.

Kurt disconnected the call and made his way back to the bedroom, where his wife was lying in the exact position he had left her. He sat down beside her, turning the washcloth over so the cooler side was on her skin.

“I called the doctor.” he confessed.

Jane frowned.

“Why? I thought we decided I had just got the worse end of your bug?”

Kurt shook his head.

“The doctor agrees that this is more than a typical stomach bug.” he said, rubbing her arm softly. “The sickness aside, the pain you’re experiencing isn’t normal.”

Jane frowned again, choosing not to answer. She was sick of doctors.

“Also I’m a little worried because you can’t keep anything down.” Kurt continued. “I would just feel a bit better if you were checked out.”

Jane sighed, then winced, riding out another wave of pain.

“Oh Jane…” he sighed, hating to see her in this level of discomfort.  “Do you want to try the wheatsack?”

She nodded and Kurt moved off to the kitchen, relieved that he was able to do something to try and make her feel a bit better.

When the wheatsack was heated, he returned to the bedroom, lying down on the bed behind her. He wrapped her in his arms, holding the wheatsack to her stomach, rubbing her back gently with his free hand. She wrapped her arms around the wheatsack, hugging his hand to her middle.

Eventually, in the safety of her husband's arms, the exhaustion overcame the pain and Jane fell into a fitful sleep. Kurt lay with her, still rubbing her back softly, waiting for the doctor to arrive.

[spacerune]

Meruem invites Pouf to play a game of Gungi to improve his skills :D

Thank you so much for the ask! I laughed and smiled so much at this I don’t think Meruem would ask Pouf to play Gungi for that reason, but I thought of another. I hope you think it’s fun!

This fic is completely silly, fluffy, and takes place in an everyone lives AU. I tried to be in character for everyone, but I took some liberties :)

(Not beta-read)

***

Meruem stood for nearly five minutes at the door to Pouf’s room listening to the somber and tormented violin that emanated from it. He found the music to be breathtaking, but he also felt concern for his guard. Pouf was deeply troubled and had been since the palace invasion. Meruem knew why, but he was unsure of how to address it. He promised himself he would treat all of his guards with more care and compassion, but Pouf was a special case. He was more stubborn, emotional, and passionate than the others. Care and compassion alone might not be enough to console the morose guard.

This day, he figured he would try something new.

“Pouf,” Meruem called to him.

Pouf jumped from his seat in the window sill and nearly dropped his violin. “Forgive me, you startled me, Your Majesty.”

“I didn’t mean to surprise you. If you have a moment, may I ask you something?” Meruem continued.

Pouf placed down his instrument and kneeled. “Of course, Your Majesty. I am here to serve you. I am at your disposal whenever you need me.”

Meruem had been easing up on his guards for weeks. He had been giving them more free time and inviting them to join him and Komugi for various outings. Youpi and Pitou came to recognize the growing informality of their relationship, but Pouf had become more obedient than ever. Of course it didn’t help that he never joined in on any of those outings.

“That’s not necessary, Pouf. You may relax. I wanted to ask if you would like to play a game of Gungi with me?”

Pouf raised his head and widened his eyes. Meruem could sense the abrupt change in his guard’s emotions. “Me? With you? You want to play Gungi with me?”

Meruem couldn’t help but laugh at Pouf’s baffled response.

“I don’t mean to defy you, sir, but wouldn’t you rather play Gungi with Komugi?”  Pouf questioned.

“Komugi is sick with the flu. She wanted to play so badly, but I told her she needed to rest in order to get better. She is finally sleeping now. But it got me to thinking, maybe you might like to play. You are a strategic thinker, I think you would enjoy the game.”

Pouf shook his head, “Sir, but I…I’m sure I would swiftly lose. It won’t be enjoyable for you.”

“You know the rules, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do but-”

“You might be better at it than you think!” Meruem smiled.

Meruem detected another change in his guard’s emotions. Pouf almost seemed happy. In turn, Meruem started to believe his strategy was working.

For the first time in months, Pouf smiled. “If you really think so. I am sorry for questioning your order. I will play Gungi with you until your heart’s content.”

“Pouf, this isn’t an order. I just thought this would be a fun way to spend time together. And just maybe I’ll learn some new tricks in Gungi.”

Pouf’s happiness blossomed into glee, but it was a glee tinged with a touch of uncertainty and anxiety.

“Your Majesty, I am so happy to hear that you wish to spend time with me. I am honored, but please do not get your hopes up, I doubt you can learn anything from me.”

~~~~~~

The king and his royal guard faced each other at the Gungi table. Pouf still wore a smile, and Meruem couldn’t be more pleased to see his guard in better spirits. In no time, both players had arranged their pieces on the board.

“Pouf,” Meruem said before the game began, “are you sure that’s the initial setup you wish to have?”

Pouf’s eyes shifted between his king and the board. “Is it a bad arrangement? I thought this was a decent start!”

Meruem shrugged and smirked, but did not answer the question.

“Oh,I see! This is a psychological tactic! You are trying to make me uneasy from the start so I will be unable to think clearly as I play!” Pouf chuckled, obviously satisfied with himself and the conclusion he came to.

Unfortunately for Pouf, it was not a psychological tactic, Meruem was trying to give his guard a hint before the game started. The game was over within minutes and Pouf never stood a chance of winning.

“I hate this game,” Pouf mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Meruem asked.

Pouf unfolded his arms and loosened the pout he had been sporting, “Oh, I was just recalling that I was right. You couldn’t possibly learn anything from me in Gungi. Your skills are far superior to mine. I was foolish to ever try.”

“But did you have fun?” 

“It was frustrating and now I feel I made a fool out of myself in front of you, sir.”

His loss in Gungi, caused Pouf to become melancholy once again. It was alarming how easily his mood was swayed by trivial successes and failures. He thanked the king for his time and moved to excuse himself, but before he could leave, he noticed Komugi in the entrance to the room. 

“Pouf, would you like to learn how to play? I can show you! It’ll be fun!” Komugi said as more snot than usual oozed from her nostrils.

Meruem glanced up in alarm, not just because Komugi should have been in bed, but also because Pouf was evidently not in the mood to deal with her. It was a poisonous mix and Meruem did not want to be forced to adjudicate between the two.

“Komugi, you should rest. The flu is not to be taken lightly,” Meruem said gently.

“I’m fine! I promise! I’ll just sit and give some pointers, it won’t take much strength,” Komugi pleaded from the doorway.

As Komugi spoke, Pouf hastened to leave the room. He walked swiftly, but it was not swift enough to avoid an unhappy encounter with a robust sneeze on his hand and arm. Pouf froze, scowled, and clenched his fists.

“Pouf!” Meruem shouted before anything else could transpire. “She did not mean to sneeze on you. It was an accident. Do not be mad with her.”

Sighing, Pouf begrudgingly obeyed his king. “You are correct. Nevertheless, people with filthy viruses should be careful where they spread their infections.”

As Pouf left the room, Komugi called after him, “I’m sorry Pouf! I wasn’t thinking!”

Meruem approached Komugi and lifted her into his arms. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just a sore loser. But he is right, you shouldn’t be wandering about. Let’s get you back to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The following afternoon, Meruem approached Pouf’s room, but rather than the sound of a violin, he heard Pouf exclaiming loudly about something.

“That stupid woman,” Pouf cried as he wiped snot from his nose, “first she makes me look like a fool, then she infects me with her filth. I’m not worthy of being a royal guard if I am so easily defeated! That filthy, horrible, stupid-”

“What stupid woman would that be, exactly?” Meruem called from the door.

Nearly choking on his own breath, Pouf kneeled immediately.

“Your Majesty!” he screeched and then coughed, “Please forgive my insolence. I have no right to refer to her that way. I am merely frustrated at my own failure. I am a royal guard, and yet here I am, sick with the flu.”

“I am going to tell you exactly what I told Komugi. Please just get some rest. I already knew you were sick. I checked on you this morning and you were asleep and hot with fever, so I decided to bring some things to help you feel better.” He placed a tray by Pouf’s side with hot tea and medicine.

“Your Majesty,” Pouf’s eyes watered and his lips trembled, “you are not supposed to be the one serving me. I’m supposed to serve you.”

Meruem patted Pouf on the head and said, “I’ve recently decided that I want to be kinder to my guards. So if I want to serve you when you are sick and being stupid, then so be it.”

Pouf had no words, only tears of joy.

“I do have one order, however. You need to stop being rude to Komugi.”

***

I hope you enjoyed this silly fic