#let's continue to put Jon in Situations

[karuvapatta]

Here we goooooooo

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

***

Come Monday, there is a noticeable improvement in the atmosphere down in the Archives. Maybe it’s the illusion of a common goal to work towards, or just an after-effect of a moderately pleasant evening at the pub. Either way, it probably says something worrying about each and every one of them, but Jon can’t bring himself to care.

On a different note, his copy of House of Leaves is already lying on the desk in his office, with a short note written in Elias’s elegant handwriting.

You were right, the note says. I did like it.

Jon re-reads it obsessively before he finally caves and shoves it somewhere into the depths of his desk, along with the book. What does it mean? Did Elias mean it sincerely, or was he being sarcastic? Is he toying with Jon again? Why didn’t he hand it over in person, and share some of his thoughts? Is Jon severely misinterpreting the nature of their relationship? Because it’s not all that strange to exchange book recommendations with your professional acquaintances, isn’t it? And then discuss them?

The most probable answer is that Elias is avoiding him. Which shouldn’t hurt, because Jon has been avoiding Elias, but it still does. A bit.

That is, until they can avoid each other no longer. One of the dreaded interdepartmental meetings is coming up, and Jon doesn’t think he can weasel his way out of it, unless he gets himself sick or injured. And Elias will of course be there, given that he is organizing the damn thing.

Jon gets up earlier on Thursday and puts a bit more effort into his appearance, even going so far as to hanging his mirror back on the bathroom wall. He really needs a haircut at this point, but as he doesn’t trust himself with scissors, he tries to pin back his hair into a somewhat-professional looking bun. It does make him look too much like a hipster, unfortunately, but it’s better than letting it hang loose in front of his face, or pilling it up into a messy ponytail he usually ends up with.

The outcome is—honestly the best he could have hoped for. At least he ironed his shirt properly, and it almost fits him. He almost doesn’t look like an awkward teenager, dressing up for his first real date, or a job interview. Almost.

The meeting begins at 9 a.m. sharp. Jon already feels horribly underdressed – not to mention underqualified, as he is one of the youngest people here. And it’s not at all helped when Elias makes his entrance, looking perfectly stylish, from the subtle pattern on his tie, to the tips of his polished shoes. Jon doesn’t look up as Elias makes his way through the room, pretending to read the papers stacked before him on the table, and praying that no-one hears the frantic pounding of his heart.

“Good morning,” Elias says genially. The pleasant lilt of his voice does something utterly embarrassing to Jon’s insides. “I trust you are all having a productive week. Now, if you please—”

It’s just reports. Jon needs to deliver a report, assert that the Archives are operating without any problems, that he needs no additional funding, has no issues with the other departments. Nothing actually important. In truth, this entire meeting could have been an email, but Elias insists on bringing them all here. Possibly because the forced eye-contact enables him to read everyone’s mind in search of anything unorthodox.

Come to think of it, this is very probably the reason.

The Head Librarian is going through the usual: new acquisitions, outsiders requesting access to the Library, and an unpleasant incident involving a strange book that may or may not have been a Leitner. Jon spaces out, trying to rehearse what he’s about to say, and barely even notices when the man finishes speaking.

“Thank you, Salim,” Elias nods. “Jon?”

Good lord. He shouldn’t have been avoiding Elias. He shouldn’t have waited until now to face him, because his head is empty, his thoughts swirling in unhelpful patterns. Is Elias wearing the same cologne? There is the faintest trace of it in the air. And—and he’s waiting for Jon to speak, probably with that calm, expectant look on his face, distant and professional, while Jon sits frozen, unable to speak.

He looks up, and meets Elias’s eyes.

It’s—he’s seen them before, hundreds of times. There’s no reason for his pulse to speed up. He has seen Elias’s lips, the finely sculpted bones of his face, the delicate web of crow’s feet in the corners of his eyes. He has kissed those very same lips, the memory so strong it’s almost a tangible thing, so soft against his own mouth, gentle at first, and then more pressing, insistent, moving deeper, taking everything Jon didn’t even know he had to give—

Elias looks away and clears his throat.

“Jon? The report?”

Oh fuck. Elias can read his mind. And here Jon is, fantasizing about the man sitting three feet away from him, his boss, during a business meeting, surrounded by his co-workers—

“Right,” Jon hurries to say, nearly scattering the papers he had folded so carefully in front of him. “Excuse me. Right—”

He doesn’t look up again, pretending to check the notes he has already memorized, and lets his voice carry on while the rest of him curls in shame. Thank God no-one comments or asks him any questions.

“Thank you,” Elias says curtly. “Ingrid?”

It goes on like this. By the time Keith finishes arguing with Elias about the security measures and rapid personnel turnover in the Artefact Storage, Jon can almost breathe normally.

Of course he nearly misses his name being said again, this time by Ingrid, Head of Research, and his former boss.

“Jon?” she repeats, clear disapproval in her tone. “I was requesting access to the Archives.”

Access? To his Archives?

“What for?” Jon asks.

Too late, he notices the strange quality of his voice, a buzz of static; Ingrid frowns but she opens her mouth nonetheless, about to give him the answers he seeks. Compelled to.

“That is—” Jon hurries to say. “The Archives are still in a state of disarray. We are not nearly done cataloguing everything. If you let me know what exactly you’re looking for, I’ll be able to find it for you.”

Ingrid scowls. “Not done cataloguing? What, pray tell, have you been doing these past months then?”

It doesn’t seem like she noticed Jon’s question, or understood its significance. Does she even know what he is? Do any of them know? Do they also possess strange powers? Are they even aware of what it is they all serve? Is Jon being kept out of the loop, or is Elias keeping them all within their own little corners, feeding everyone bits of information, and then forcing them here, so that they can regard each other suspiciously above the unassuming conference table?

Because there is the faint undercurrent of fear in the air. He hasn’t noticed it before, too preoccupied with Elias, but it’s most definitely present. Every person has their own secrets to protect, and they sit here, afraid of those secrets being exposed in front of their co-workers, while the Eye already sees through them all and feasts on their fear.

He shakes away these thoughts and tries to compose himself.

“I believe I’ve already given my report on the state of the Archives,” he says. “I can repeat it, if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Elias interjects. “Ingrid, if you require anything from the Archives, I’m sure Jon will be more than happy to assist you. I’m assuming you can sort it out between yourselves?”

“Yes,” says Jon.

“Of course,” says Ingrid.

The rest of the meeting is blissfully uneventful. Jon takes meticulous notes he isn’t planning on reading, just to keep his focus where it should be, and to hold his thoughts in check. Not an easy task once Elias leans back in his chair, his long, elegant fingers steepled together, observing the proceedings with rapt attention. There is a weight to his steely gaze that feels almost physical. Jon finds himself caught in it once Elias turns to him, and it takes conscious effort not to shudder. Good lord, if that’s what’s going to happen every time Elias looks at him…

He breathes a relieved sigh as soon as Elias dismisses them. That is, until Elias says:

“Jon. A word, please?”

Rosie gives him a warm, sympathetic smile as she picks up her laptop and a stack of reports. But she still leaves the room and closes the door behind her.

It’s just the two of them. Jon, half-standing, awkwardly trying to sort through his notes. Elias, sitting back in his swivel chair, perfectly poised and professional.

“Lock the door,” Elias says.

Jon swallows; his throat is dry as sawdust. But he moves, automatically, takes the several steps around the table, reaches the door, and the key in the lock. Turns it. Swallows again, with little success.

Elias is waiting, silent, his silhouette outlined against the windows behind his back. It’s a bright, sunny day. Almost too bright to look at.

Why isn’t he saying anything? Is he waiting for Jon to speak? To apologize? For what, his errant thoughts? The reckless use of his powers? His inability to concentrate? Or is he simply waiting for Jon to implode under the weight of his own anxieties? Because he’s fairly sure it wouldn’t take long.

What Elias says, however, is: “You look nice.”

Jon startles, then begins to laugh. “What?”

Elias tips his head to the side and frowns. “Although the suit is abysmal. I should introduce you to my tailor. We may then find something that will actually fit you.”

“I can’t afford your tailor, Elias,” Jon says, exasperated.

“Oh, I would be more than happy to pay for it,” Elias says. “Besides, you’ll need it for the next fundraiser.”

“What fundraiser?” Jon is starting to panic.

“I’m sure Rosie keeps you informed about upcoming events,” Elias says. “Have you checked your email?” At Jon’s blank expression, Elias sighs. “You do have assistants, do you not?”

“They’re not in charge of my schedule,” Jon protests. “Or sorting through my emails.”

The corner of Elias’s lip is twitching. He is enjoying this: flustered, wrong-footed Jon, fumbling through his answers.

“I assume you didn’t keep me here to insult my appearance?” Jon asks, trying to wrestle back some control over the flow of this bizarre conversation.

“I complimented your appearance,” Elias says. “It’s just your wardrobe I take issue with.”

“I see,” Jon says. “So, what is it? You want to dress me up in fancy clothes and have me dangle on your arm during the next posh event for all your rich friends?”

“Pretty much.”

It’s just a game, Jon thinks to himself, gritting his teeth. It’s Elias. Everything is a game to him. If Jon lets it get under his skin, he’s already lost.

Elias stands up, every move practiced, elegant. He reaches Jon in a few easy strides. Without the table separating them, Jon feels exposed and helpless. He’s sure Elias knows this.

“This is what I’m talking about,” Elias says, casually smoothing the creases of Jon’s damn suit. The touch of his hands is electric, even through the layers of fabric; it has Jon shivering, his breath catching in his throat. Worse, still, when Elias’s fingers slip upwards, to adjust the collar of his shirt, just shy of brushing the skin of his throat. “It’s too big on you. Or have you lost weight again?”

“My weight is none of your business.”

“Your health is very much my concern.”

“Why?”

“I told you. You’re my Archivist.” Elias’s voice drops into a whisper, warm and possessive. Jon’s indignation is feeble, melts away quickly, too quickly, with every frantic beat of his pulse against Elias’s fingers. “Do you know how damn hard it is to concentrate on my job with you there? When you look at me, when you think about me?”

“Then stop reading my mind,” Jon says. Elias is so close; if he lowered his head, if Jon stood on his tip-toes…

“I can’t,” Elias says. “I need to know, Jon. I need to know everything about you. I’m sure I don’t have to explain what it feels like.”

He’s smiling as he says it, huffing out a breath of not-quite laughter. But there’s an edge of frustration to his tone that Jon doesn’t know how to cope with. And he’s looking at him this entire time, his grey eyes pinning Jon in place, not even searching for anything. As if the sight of him was enough to satisfy whatever urges coursed through Elias’s veins.

“It’s hard to imagine the Beholding cares about this,” Jon says.

Even so, he cannot resist pressing his fingers to Elias’s cheek, just to feel it again; to see Elias’s pupils widen, watch the curve of his mouth as he smiles with wry amusement.

“I assure you, it craves the fear of its servants’ as much as anyone else’s,” Elias says. “More, perhaps.”

Is the Eye watching them now? It’s hard to tell. It’s hard to think.

“What are you afraid of?” Jon asks.

The compulsion rolls of his tongue, easily, as easy as breathing. And Elias shivers when he feels the pull of it, closes his eyes, and leans down, to close the last few inches separating them. To kiss Jon, hungry, drinking in the power he had bestowed upon him. He struggles to resist it, his lips forming words he refuses to voice, in between the frantic kisses he presses to Jon’s mouth.

He loves the struggle. Jon knows this instinctively. He loves it, and it’s exhilarating.

They part, breathless. Jon smiles, Elias’s warm breath tickling his skin, and presses another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling away.

“You never answered my question,” Jon points out.

“Right now? I’m mostly afraid Rosie will figure out what happened and report me to HR,” Elias is joking, but only just.

“Yes, that would be dreadful,” Jon says.

“Get back to work,” Elias says.

“Yes,” Jon nods. “I should probably do that.”

He doesn’t fully process it until he’s back in his office, staring at the wall while the events of this morning play themselves out in his head, in full, loving detail. Everything he said and did. Everything Elias said and did. Everything it could potentially mean.

Oh, this is bad. This is very bad.

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART III

—old habits die hard

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who are obliviously in love.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 13.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). filthy smut. angst. cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: i know i made you guys wait a lot for this but i wanted it to be perfect and i was really busy but it's finally here now! thank you for the love on the first two parts, i love all of you. happy reading!!!

masterlist with next parts!

"Oh yes! I forgot about the most exciting part. It's your friend, Pedro Pascal."

You're not sure who it's exciting for, because it's certainly not you. Sure, Jon had no idea what had happened between you and Pedro, but you were hoping he did at the time. Because if he did, he wouldn't be gushing about how exciting it is that the two of you are going to collaborate.

You try to hide your dismay and muster up a smile as Jon continues to talk about how great Pedro is. You can't help but wonder how you're going to make it through this project without letting your personal issues with Pedro get in the way of your work and finally driving you into insanity. 

Regardless, you know you have to remain professional and focused. It's just a job.

"Does he know about me?" you hesitantly ask.

"Yeah, he's known for awhile." Jon replies, "We asked him not to mention anything, but I've gotta say I'm surprised he actually didn't."

"I've got to say I'm surprised too."

•••

For the next few weeks, the only thing on your mind was Pedro. You couldn't stop thinking about what he might have said or what he thought when he found out you were going to work together. This war between you and your brain was pretty stupid because you could just call him or send him a quick text.

Hey, guess what? We're finally going to work together! :)

Simple as that.

The problem was that you didn't want to be the one to bring it up first. You weren't the type to hold a grudge over trivial matters, but here you were, silently punishing him for what he did last month.

One of your last shows on the tour was in New York, and as usual, you invited most of your friends. Even though Pedro had been living in London for the last few months, you still sent him a text inviting him. He had taken a flight for other stuff, so it was safe to assume he would make the effort for this as well.

You: Hey! I know you're in London, but my show at MSG is next week, and everyone's coming. I would like for you to come too :)

Pedrito: Hi, my schedule here is pretty tight for next week. I'm sorry. Next time?

You: Bummer. Sure.

Despite your disappointment, you understood the situation perfectly. His work schedule has become quite hectic recently, as he has been traveling and shooting movies in various locations such as Hawaii, Boston, and now London. Your schedules no longer seemed to be in sync, and neither of you made an effort to rearrange your plans to fit the other. 

Those months he spent filming with Oscar in Hawaii were by far the worst. Mostly because they were having fun and you weren't part of it. To put it mildly, the FOMO nearly killed you. The group chat and his Instagram were filled with pictures of them surfing, hiking, and exploring the island while you were miles away alone.  

The night of the show arrived, and everything went smoothly as planned, leaving you with a feeling of relief and satisfaction. That later changed when, backstage, in the midst of winding down, Oscar approached you with a smile, "Too bad Pedro couldn't make it, he would've loved this outfit."

You smile as you look down at your own stage outfit, knowing he'd like it because of its purple color.

"Too bad he's in London," you reply back.

Oscar's face falls slightly as he responds, "London?"

You nod as you chug down the last of your water bottle.

"No, he got here days ago," he says, huffing a laugh. "I called him so we could ride together, but he never answered. I figured I would run into him here."

"Oh."

Oscar's expression is slightly puzzled, as if he's trying to connect the dots between the two statements. "Is everything okay between you guys?"

You wanted to lie so bad; say yes and play it cool. After all, that's what you two have been doing for the past nine months: playing pretend. But this whole exchange has caught you off guard, and you're not sure if you want to continue with the facade or finally be honest about the situation.

"I don't know anymore."

Your attention snapped back to the present.

For days, you tried to brush it off and convince yourself that it was no big deal, but deep down, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and hurt. He had been there and chose not to go. Not even a call or text to explain or apologize. Nothing.

So, no. You weren't going to text him first, were you?

Manhattan Beach Studios, Los Angeles.

October 2018.

If somebody had told Pedro three years ago that he would be starring as a bounty-hunting badass in a signature Star Wars series, he would've laughed in their face. But here he was, about to start the table read for the first episode of The Mandalorian, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as he waited to see how his character would come to life on screen.

It was a pinch-me moment. He had come a long way since his early days as a struggling actor, and he was grateful for the opportunity to work with such talented people on a project that was sure to be groundbreaking. As he looked around the room at his fellow cast members and crew, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and accomplishment.

Until his eyes landed on you.

He then felt shame and guilt for how he handled things a month before. He knows he fucked up. You're sitting across from him, the heavy, discerning quality of your gaze sending shivers down his spine. It's as if you're peering right through him, past the gleaming politeness to the rough edges beneath. If looks could kill, he'd be a dead man.

Your expression says, "Wipe that smile off your face. There's nothing to be happy about."

He was convincing himself that he didn't exactly know what drove him not to tell you the truth about his availability. Except he did. His time away from you had allowed him to get you out of his system, and he didn't want to fall back down the maybe-I-have-feelings-for you rabbit hole again. So in true Pedro fashion, he avoided it.

He knew he'd be back in New York for your concert when you texted him. Yet he boldly lied. And it bit him in the ass.

He couldn't throw away all the progress the two of you had made, so he knew he had to make amends for his behavior before it was too late. He made a mental note to talk to you after the reading was over.

•••

The reading was over in what seemed like an eyeblink. You were so thrilled to be part of this, and even given everything that has happened between you two, you would be lying if you said you weren't happy you're doing this with him.

Though you weren't doing a particularly good job of displaying it. You barely talked to him when you got here, quickly exchanging hellos and moving on to something else.

You were settling into your trailer with your agent, going over some details, when you heard a knock. Your agent quickly rises to unlock the door as you continue to put some of your things in a drawer. When the door opens, you hear him before you see him. "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

Taylor couldn't help but laugh at his antics, and you can't either. A smile formed on your lips as you closed the drawer before collecting yourself and remembering that you were really mad at him.

"Pedro, long time no see!" she says as they hug and exchange pleasantries.

Taylor looks my way. "I am going to get some of those snacks we saw earlier," she says, "I'll be back in a bit."

As she exits the trailer, you make your way to the door. Pedro is standing there, dressed in a black sweatshirt, olive green trousers, and white sneakers, which you can only describe as attractive.

Needless to say, he was making it difficult for you to hate him right now.

•••

Pedro's mind goes completely blank when he sees you; it's as if he has forgotten everything else around him and all he can focus on is you, making it hard for him to form coherent sentences.

"You cut your hair," he blurted.

"Yes."

"It looks very pretty; I like it."

"Is that why you came here?" you inquire, "to tell me my hair's pretty?"

"No, I came here to apologize," he replies back as he steps into the trailer and closes the door behind him. He watches you sit on the edge of the sofa that adorned the room, hands on each side of you, waiting for him to continue.

He takes a deep breath. "I know I messed up and hurt you. I just wanted to make things right, kid."

"Why?"

"Because you’re the last person in the world I want to upset. That would be, like, devastating."

"Hmm," you hum, a blank expression on your face, "you're not doing a very good job at it."

Pedro couldn't help but smirk at your jab, "Clearly. You looked like you were plotting my murder in there."

"Oh, I already know where I'm going to hide your body."

His laugh fills the room, and your face softens. He began walking towards the couch, and you both slumped back into it at the same time. "It's nothing really; I'm over it," you say, staring at the wall.

Pedro tilts his head to look at you, "When will you learn that you're so bad at lying that it's not worth even trying?"

You face him, your beautiful eyes catching him off guard. "This is the worst apology ever, by the way."

"I know, princesa," he says softly. "But I mean it. I'm sorry I didn't go, and I'm sorry it took me this long to apologize."

You slowly nod, your face displaying a hint of uncertainty. As if you're trying to figure out whether he's sincere or not, which he wishes you didn't have to even wonder about. "It's okay if you didn't want to go; I just wish you would've said that instead of lying and making me look like an idiot, P."

No, no, no. I wanted to go, but I'm a fucking coward.

Your words pierced him like a dagger, and the pang of guilt washed over him again. He's been drowning in it for the past few weeks, but to actually hear the disappointment in your voice is a completely different beast.

Before he could even muster up a response, you speak again, "But I forgive you."

Pedro's breathing slowed down as you placed a hand on his thigh, and he heard those words. He reciprocated the gesture and then put his hand over yours, gripping it softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Good," he says, "because now we can properly freak out about this," excitement overflowing through him as he couldn't keep it in anymore.

He needed to share this with you. When the creators of the show approached him, you were the first person that came to his mind. One of the things you've always wanted to be part of was Star Wars, so he knew you would be jealous to find out he was cast in this and couldn't wait to give you a hard time, just like Oscar did when he got the role of Poe.

That plan quickly fell apart when the creators revealed they were bringing you aboard, and even though it meant he couldn't torture you any longer, he was overjoyed you were going to be by his side in this.

“You must be ecstatic,” you tell him, your hands still connected, "this is a big deal."

"Yeah, who would've thought?"

"I did," you attempt to correct yourself, but it’s too late. Pedro has already saved the words for later in his mind. "I mean, we did! We all did. Your friends, I mean. We knew things were only going to get better for you. Even before I met you, I knew you were going to do great things. Sarah talked about it all the time, too, and we're pretty sure this is only the beginning."

He's stunned at the rambling explanation of your thoughts about his rising career. He looks at you with gratitude in his eyes, feeling fortunate to have supportive people like you in his life who believe in him.

The lack of hesitation in your voice did the opposite of what your words had done; it cooled down the hope that had lit up like a flame in his chest.

"Now, come on, let's find Taylor and those snacks," you tell him as you rise up from the couch and extend your hand to him, "I'm hungry, and we still have costume fittings," you add. He puts his hand in yours, restraining himself and letting you struggle to pull him up as you try your hardest to do so.

"You asshole!" you yell, tightening your grip on his hand, "Stop that and get up!"

He can't stop laughing as you finally manage to pull him up. "you need to work on your strength, baby," he says between chuckles.

You scoff and playfully hit him on the shoulder, "My strength is fine, thank you."

"Ow! Who's the asshole now?" he exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.

“And don't call me baby,” you tell him. "I forgave you, but that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you."

"I don't think it works that way, baby."

"José Pedro!" you exclaim, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, old habits die hard."

The next two months were amazing, to say the least. It's as if all the two of you needed was to work together on a TV series to realize how much you needed to be together. Just like your on-screen characters, you two were tied to work together by a third thing, that thing being, of course, the child.

Speaking of the child, you were obsessed with it. You couldn't believe a green, Yoda-like animatronic puppet could win your heart in such a short period of time, but here you were. It was magical. Truth be told, everything about The Mandalorian was magical.

Every day you had to step on that immaculate set that's built and surrounded by volume, which creates an infinite sort of visual experience in terms of skies, planets, space, ships, and all kinds of things, was magical.

It just felt like you were stepping onto these highly sophisticated amusement park rides, with very little being left to the imagination because of how incredible the design work is from all the departments.

Another magical thing was seeing Pedro bring the character to life. His ability to convey so much depth and complexity to a character that is mostly hidden behind a mask is truly impressive. From crafting his "Mandalorian" walk and stance to his deep, jarring voice.

That voice.

That voice was made to torture you and send shivers down your spine. That voice made you forget all of your life's problems. Actually, that voice was made for one thing and one thing only, the bedroom.

"Oh my god, it doesn't sound like a bedroom voice!" he protested, as he highlighted lines in his script.

You were joining him and the creators in the recording booth for his voiceover session.

"It does! It's a sexy bedroom voice." you teased, making everyone laugh. "That's not very Disney of you, P." 

He gets closer to the mic and whispers, voice altered because of the modulator, "Bite me."

"See? It works perfectly."

•••

You were having as much fun as you could. Simply put, you two were menaces on set.

You could tell Jon, Dave, and the rest of the crew were patient with your antics, but it was clear that they were also entertained by your on-set dynamic. It's not everyday that you get to work with your best friend, and you two made it everyone's problem.

Although sometimes you have to admit you take it a little too far.

"Catch me if you can, Boba Fett wannabe!" you scream.

Pedro was chasing you through the set with a prop sword, trying to get you to stop teasing him about his costume. "You are one insult away from getting a taste of this sword!"

"Okay, tin can man!"

You were running away from him as fast as you could, hoping to find a place to hide before he caught up with you. You quickly hide behind one of the makeup trailers and peek out to see him come to a stop, catching his breath. He was wearing his Beskar getup, minus the helmet.

“Give up yet, old man?"

He laughs. "We're being extra cruel today, huh?"

Taking advantage of his momentary pause and facing away from where you were hiding, you slowly inch closer to him, trying not to make a sound. As you get within arm's reach, you draw one of your prop knives from your costume pocket and hold it to his back. Using your free hand to hold him steady, you lean in and whisper in his ear, "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold."

He turns his head slightly, and you can see the smirk on his face. "That's my line, thief."

Before you could pull away, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back toward him. He takes hold of you and tightens his grasp on your waist. "Let me go, P!"

You struggle to break free from his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. "I am going to squeeze you so hard you will fart," he chuckles.

You snort. "You have such a way with words."

As you try to wriggle out of his grasp, you accidentally elbow him in the face, causing him to release his hold on you and stumble into a piece of plywood that had been propped up.  

"Aw, fuck!" he cries out, clutching his nose.

"Holy shit, I'm sorry!" you rush to him, cupping his face. "Are you hurt?"

He removes his hand from his nose, revealing a cut and a trickle of blood. "It's alright, just a bloody nose," he says calmly.

You touch his nose gingerly, and he winces in pain. "Nevermind, I think it is broken."

•••

You begged Jon to let you ride to the hospital with them; after all, this was your fault. When you get there, the doctors rush to Pedro's side and begin examining him.

If you weren't preoccupied with being mortified over this, you'd laugh.

The scene before you is straight out of a sitcom, with Jon frantically explaining the situation to the doctors, Pedro in full costume with fake injuries and blood that you were pretty sure the doctors thought were real, and you standing there with an expression that screamed: Hey! It's me! I did this!

After a couple of minutes of clearing up that it was an accident and that the blood coming out of his ears was fake and not the cause of a brain hemorrhage, one of the doctors led us to a room to examine his nose.

"It's not broken," the doctor said, as she prepared to clean the wound. "He's just going to need a couple of stitches."

"Oh great, we still need to finish a scene, and they're waiting for us." Jon replies.

"This will take 15 minutes, tops," she says, grabbing a tray of medical supplies. “I will be fast.” 

"I'll call the guys," Jon tells you as he exits the room.

You nod in agreement and stand in a corner as you silently watch the doctor carefully clean, anesthetize and stitch up the wound. You feel relieved that it wasn't anything more serious. 

After she finishes, Pedro thanks her, and she nods with a smile. "You're going to need to take some analgesics for the pain. I'm gonna go grab my prescription pad. I'll be right back."

She exits the room, and you walk over to Pedro. He moves his head slightly, showing off his nose.

"How does it look?" he asks teasingly.

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "I can't believe I ruined your perfect nose."

"Who said it isn't perfect still?" he says it as if it were a challenge. His brow is arched, with the tiniest smirk hidden in one corner of his mouth.

"Don't start. I'm mortified."

"Tranquila, princesa. I said it was okay after you apologized 20 times on our way here," he reassures you. "Plus, now we have a funny story to tell during our press tour next year."

You sigh. "I guess you're right."

"You know," he says, "what hurts right now is that today is our last day of shooting. I can't believe it's been two months already. Time fucking flew."

Your heart sinks as you're once again reminded that this amazing experience is coming to an end. The day you've been dreading for weeks is finally here, and you're not ready to say goodbye. It's not like you already know you'll be back next year for the next season, but you're not ready to say goodbye to him and the daily routine you've formed, which mostly consists of breakfasts together, long hours on set, and late-night movie marathons. 

"Yeah, I'm trying not to think about it," you muttered, "gonna miss our little routine."

Pedro studies you. "Maybe we can extend it for a little while longer."

Not knowing where this is going, you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. Pedro smiles, "I..I was thinking maybe... maybe you could come with me to Chile for Christmas with the family." 

Your heart skips a beat as you process Pedro's words. You open your mouth slightly to say something, but you close it again, momentarily speechless, overwhelmed by the unexpected invitation. 

"Uh… I know you probably have plans with your family,” he interjects, “but I thought this would be a good time for you to finally meet my father and the rest of the family, and—" 

Before he could finish, you nodded eagerly, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending Christmas in Chile with Pedro and his family, “Yes, I would love to." 

You've never seen him smile as broadly as he does now, and you know that you have made the right decision. 

New York City

December 15, 2018

“Dude, he invited you to his hometown with his family, and you still think that man has no feelings for you?” 

“Taylor...” you paused, picking up a clothing item that had fallen to the floor. “It's just a friendly gesture.”

“Yeah, I'm sure he invites everyone to his hometown to spend the holidays with his family. Sureee.” 

You didn't want to go there; you'd promised yourself that you wouldn't get entangled in what ifs, so your friend's teasing wasn't helping you keep those thoughts at bay. 

“I told you, he doesn't like me like that. I know he doesn't,” you say, suddenly remembering that night when you overheard him telling Sarah how he felt about you. “Plus, as my agent, you more than anyone know I can't do relationships right now; my life's too busy." 

Taylor finished zipping up the last of your bags for the trip and gave you a reassuring smile. "I know, but it doesn't hurt to have a little fun, does it? And who knows—maybe he has changed his mind. Just enjoy the trip and have fun." 

No, he hasn’t changed his mind. 

“Yeah, I just want to have a good time, really. Things have been so good between us these past couple of months, It just feels...right again. I don’t wanna mess it up.” 

"Understandable, bestie. However, I think you’re both making a huge mistake.” 

You shake your head in amusement. “Thanks for helping me pack.” 

“Thanks?” she scoffs. "I'm expecting a raise." 

Santiago, Chile

December 20, 2018

After the chaos of the day leading up to the flight, it was actually a relief to be sitting here. The large, comfortable seat, with your feet tucked up under you as you gazed out the jet window, felt very much deserved.  

While the gentle buzz of the flight filled your ears, you laid your head against the window of the plane and watched the clouds and the seemingly endless expanse of sky fly by.

As you began to drift off, you did your best to keep your attention on what was outside the plane rather than allowing your mind to wander to what would await you once you arrived at your destination. The mixture of excitement and exhaustion lulled you into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of the journey that lay ahead. 

•••

The taxi ride from the airport to the Balmaceda-Pascal's was a blur of unfamiliar sights and sounds, but you couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder and curiosity as you took in the new surroundings. As the car comes to a stop in front of the house, you shoot Pedro a quick text. 

You: I'm here, tonto. 

Pedrito: I'll be right outside, tonta. 

Since you still had a few things to attend to in New York, he had arrived two days earlier. After insisting like a madman that he could pick you up from the airport and you insisting like a madwoman that you could easily get there on your own, he gave up and let you take a cab. 

The driver has already gotten out of the car to wrestle the luggage from the trunk. You clamber out after him into the brilliant sunlight, the heat instantly making your travel outfit—which consisted of a pair of black leggings, a sweatshirt, and Pedro's Freaky Tales green hoodie—feel suffocatingly thick. The change in temperature is a shock to your system, having just come from New York's freezing climate. 

“Hey you!” Pedro's booming voice interrupts your thoughts, “Nice hoodie. Where'd you get it?” 

“Um, someone left it at my place a while ago, and I decided to keep it. It's really comfy.” 

Pedro smiles and nods, "It suits you. You should wear it more often." 

“Thanks, but not here,” you tell him, your face flushing from the heat. ”It's burning hot."  

“Welcome to Chile, where it's scorching hot during the winter and freezing cold during the summer,” he says in a joking tone, as he tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Let's get inside, it's cooler.”  

The moment you stepped into the house, you were greeted by a refreshing blast of air conditioning. The house was lovely. You take in the Mediterranean decor style and the large windows that let in natural light as you look around. On either side of the foyer, stone archways lined the way up two stories to an ornate ceiling.

As you make your way to the living room, you catch a glimpse of the various family pictures that adorn the walls. The living room was spacious and inviting, with plush couches and a fireplace that made you feel right at home. 

Dropping your bags next to the stairs that led to the second floor, Pedro places a hand in your back and gestures you towards a hallway, “C'mon, everyone is out back.” 

At the back of the house, tangled trees press close, the forest extending as far as you can see, and off to the left, in the meadow, a gazebo adorned with wild grapes stands within a smaller thicket of trees. Bright glass-shard wind chimes and cutesy bird feeders swing in the branches, and the path cuts past a row of flowering bushes before curving onto a footbridge and then disappearing into the mountains on the far side. 

It's like something out of a storybook. Charming, picturesque, and perfect. 

“You're here!” A familiar voice drew your attention back to earth. “And right on time. How was your flight?” 

Pedro's sister, Javiera, lit up with a smile as she hugged you tightly. You returned the embrace, grateful for her warm welcome. "It was long, but good nonetheless," you replied with a smile.  

“Well, if it isn't the infamous best friend I keep hearing about?” you turned around to see Pedro's father approach you with a friendly smile on his face. 

"Yup, that's me," you reply, extending your hand for a handshake. 

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he says, shaking your hand. "Pedro talks about you all the time."

“I hope good things,” you chuckle, “and it's great to finally meet you too, Mr. Balmaceda.” 

“Oh, please call me José,” he tells you, waving his hands. Just like his son, you notice that José has a warm and welcoming personality, making you feel at ease. “And please, make yourself feel at home; we're thrilled to have you.” 

“No, he's thrilled to have a world famous superstar staying at his house,” Nicolás, Pedro's brother, retorts back at his father. Making everyone laugh and leaving you feeling a bit embarrassed. 

"Oh, I don't know about being a superstar," you say lowly. 

“Are you kidding?" Nicolás cuts you off as he takes a seat, "Don't be modest. It's literally an honor to have you here." 

“Yeah, you're sooo cool,” Javiera's older son added. 

"Okay, alright, that's enough." Javiera must have noticed your embarrassed expression. She reached out to you and held you by the shoulders, reassuring you. “Let's not overwhelm her with too much praise. Let's give her some space, she must be tired." 

And she was right. The almost 12 hour flight has left you feeling exhausted, jet lagged, and in need of a very long nap. 

"Vamos princesa, I'll take you to your room." Pedro turned around and led the way towards the room while you followed him closely, trying to keep your eyes open and fighting the urge to just collapse on the floor. 

As you reached the second floor, your attention was drawn back to the house. “This place is so gorgeous, P.” 

“We got it a couple of years ago. We wanted something a little bit bigger so we could have everyone over for vacations, and we also wanted something that felt like home, you know?” 

“I love it,” you tell him.  

“This is your room,” he says, jerking his chin at the door on the right, “and this is mine.” 

He opens the door to the room on the left. His room, much like mine, is absolutely huge. The bed is along the wall immediately to your right as you enter, a recklessly comfortable looking king size bed doused under the weight of a fluffy duvet and an insane amount of pillows.

The bedding is bright white and contrasts sharply with the dark wooden floorboards. "Your bed looks like a big fluffy cloud," you say, giggling. 

"It feels like one," he says, smiling. He can tell what you're thinking by the look in your eyes,"Go on, I know you want to." 

Like a little kid, you start running towards the bed, feeling the softness of the plush carpet under your feet. As you sink into the bed, you realize that it's even more comfortable than it looks, and you can't help but let out a contented sigh. 

“P, I’m never moving again,” you say, your voice drifting over to him. 

"Ha. You’ll have to.”

“Hmm, why exactly?” you turn over onto your stomach and lean against your elbows to face him. 

"Because it's my bed," he simply states, "and I have plenty of plans that don't include you spending the entire trip in my bed."  

Bravery takes over, and you give him a playful smirk. "Well, I guess I'll just have to make sure those plans change then."

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Good luck with that, sweetheart.”

You know this is cruel. You were torturing yourself. Being so optimistic was cruel, but because of your longing and deep, hidden desires, you couldn't help but indulge in silly fantasies and play along. 

“Alright, I'll go to mine,” you say with a forced smile as you get off the bed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. “I need to nap right now, or I'll die.” 

“I will, uh, come get you for dinner later.” 

“Sure, boss,” you tell him, patting him on the shoulder as you walk past him to leave the room.  

“Sweet dreams.” 

In the past four days, you've learned many things.

First, Chile was sickeningly beautiful. The vibrant colors of the buildings and the breathtaking scenery of the Andes Mountains made you feel like you were in a dream. It spread out beneath you like a patchwork quilt, with each square representing a different aspect of its culture and history. From the bustling city streets to the serene beaches.

The food was also a highlight, and you're pretty sure you gained a few pounds from indulging in the delicious local cuisine.

“Here, try this one.”

“That's the biggest empanada I've ever seen in my life,” you exclaimed as you took a bite of the savory pastry, filled with juicy meat and vegetables. “This is so fucking good.”

Pedro chuckles. “It's filled with a mixture called Pino.” 

“Okay, forget the manjar. This,” you say, mouth full, “is my new favorite thing in this country.” 

Pedro gasps. “I thought I was your favorite thing in this country.” 

You grin and give him a playful nudge. "Okay, fine. You're still my favorite, but this empanada might take the top spot."  

“That's better,”  you look up at him, trying not to melt then and there at the signature wide grin spread across Pedro's gorgeous face. “But you know, there's still plenty of time for me to prove that I deserve the top spot.” 

You chuckle at his remark, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "We'll see about that, Pascal," you reply, taking another bite of the delicious empanada and secretly hoping he succeeds in his mission. 

•••

Second, Pedro's family were the warmest hosts you could have imagined, eager to share their traditions and stories with you. They accepted you as one of their own and made you feel like a member of the family.

They took you on various adventures throughout the city, showing you hidden gems that only locals knew about. The tradition of taking a trip to a hiking site outside the city whenever all of them got together was in motion and this year it was the Valley of the Moon's turn.

“That hike was so worth it, guys," Nico says, a little out of breath from climbing up the steep trail. 

Damn right, it was. As you're standing atop a giant sand dune, you're bewildered by what you're witnessing. The view as the sun slips below the horizon is out of this world. The ring of volcanoes and surreal lunar landscapes of the valley are suddenly suffused with intense purples, pinks, and golds. It's the most beautiful sunset you've ever seen. 

You quickly grab the camera that's hanging around your neck and start taking pictures, trying to capture the breathtaking moment before it fades away. “Guys, get together!” you shout, “A family photo with this stunning backdrop is a must.”  

As you finish taking the pictures, Pedro's voice breaks the silence, “Javi, grab the camera and take one of us, please.” 

You comply and hand the camera to her. Pedro sneaks a hand around your waist and pulls you close, “Smile, princesa.” 

“Don't tell me what to do,"  you playfully retort, leaning into him and smiling for the camera. 

•••

And third, Pedro has always had a thing for theatrics. Today, some of you decided to take a trip to the beach. The heat was unbearable, and the cool ocean water sounded like the perfect way to beat it.  

He would often come out of the ocean dramatically, splashing water all around and pretending to be a sea monster to scare his nephews. As soon as he saw the waves, he ran towards them and jumped into the water with a loud roar. His nephews laughed and cheered him on as he swam towards them, pretending to be a giant creature ready to attack. 

After spending most of the day in the water, you were sitting down on the sand, attempting to make sand castles with one of Pedro's cousins. The sound of waves crashing against the shore was soothing, making you feel relaxed. “My god, he's like a kid,” you tell her, looking at Pedro as he continued to play with his nephews, now closer to the shore. 

She laughs. “He's always been like this. As a child, he was always playful and energetic, and he never lost that spirit as he grew up. It's one of the many things we love about him."

The sandcastle you were working on was slowly starting to take shape. Pedro's cousin continued to build it and tell you stories about him, letting nostalgia wash over you.

She told you about his grandfather and how he used to take them to watch double features of old movies, and how that heavily influenced Pedro's love for storytelling and cinema. You didn’t know him then, and you'll never understand why it feels like you did. “But you know, one of my absolute favorite memories is when he recited Hamlet here on the beach with Grandpa." 

“Actually, it was Death of a Salesman, cousin.”  

His voice startles you as you turn to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face. "I do remember that day," he continued as he lowered himself onto the sand behind you, legs on each side of your body. He places a hand on your thigh for a brief moment as he settles behind you before removing it.

You want nothing more than to reach out and put his hand back on you, to insist he keep touching you but you don’t. 

He starts helping you with the sandcastle, and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his familiar warmth spread through your body. Droplets of water from his hair fall onto your warm skin, and the small elephant tattoo on his right inner thigh catches your eye as he reaches for a shovel,  "I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it but lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the States.” 

“Damn, I would've loved to see that.” 

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I can reenact it for you.” 

“Please do.”  

•••

Pedro suggested you two go outside and stargaze with a glass of wine after returning from the beach. The evening summer breeze was much cooler than the daytime breeze. You were both sitting on the back porch, leaning back on the cushioned chair, the wooden floor creaking under your weight.

“Want me to open another bottle, princesa?”  

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Pedrito?”

You can't help but stare as Pedro throws back his head, a bellowing laugh escaping him into the quiet night air. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he shakes his head, still chuckling. "No, I just want to make sure you're enjoying yourself. And if that means another bottle of wine, then so be it." 

He reaches for your glass, hands touching briefly, and pours you some more. Even in the dark, the blinding white of his smile and the twinkle in those achingly beautiful brown eyes are impossible to miss.

With the moon low in the sky, his silhouette was even clearer to you: the way the bridge of his nose dips into the top of the large glass, the delicate hold of his fingers on the stem, and the mess of his hair.

Cicadas screamed into the night air as the taste of the rich, velvety wine danced on your tongue. Now, slightly tipsy on the red wine, you were nearly too lost in your memory of the moment to notice that Pedro had turned his head from above to look at you. Clearly, your staring had captured his attention, but you went to stare resolutely at the night sky again. 

He sobered quickly, but his eyes never left you. You felt the weight of his lingering stare and were thankful that the darkness of the night and warmth of the fire covered your suddenly flushed cheeks. “Excited for Christmas tomorrow?” you ask softly, trying to break the tension with a light-hearted question. 

“Yes,” he replied with a small smile, "but I'm more excited that you get to spend it with us."

A warmth filled your chest, and if your cheeks weren't already blushing already, they certainly were now, but you wouldn’t look away from him. The meaning wasn’t lost on you. “Thank you for inviting me, really. I thought I was going to be sad, but you guys have made me feel at home." 

Pedro frowns. “What do you mean? About being sad.”  

“I kind of hate this season now because it reminds me how lonely I am,” you chuckle, gripping the wine glass slightly tighter. “And don't get me wrong, I love my family and my friends, but after you spend years with someone, Christmas just feels different without them around, you know? It's like...” you trail off, trying to put into words the feeling of emptiness that lingers within you. “Like there's a void that can't be filled no matter how many people are around you. And-and it's not like I miss that person in particular, I just miss having someone.” 

His unblinking eyes hadn’t left yours, and you continued, feeling vulnerable but also relieved to finally get that out of your system. “I know it sounds silly, but I think it’s just a reminder that things change. you meet people and you love them, and then you lose them. It's inevitable, and it happens to everyone.” 

It falls quiet between you again, the familiarity of the years of friendship meaning you are both comfortable with it. The weight of what you just said still hangs heavy in the air until he nods slowly, breaking the silence. “I get it. I feel the same way somehow,” you tear your eyes away from the constellations above to stare at him quizzically, a raised eyebrow telling him to elaborate. 

He huffs out a laugh, as if he's amused by your confusion or embarrassed by his own vulnerability, and continues, “I guess that's one of the reasons why I don't date. I'm saving myself from that.”

“Yeah, I guess now I am too,” you respond, nodding in understanding.

"Also, not to sound like an arrogant asshole—" 

“Which you probably will anyway,” you add in a playful tone. 

“Ha, ha. Very funny,” he says mockingly. “But my schedule is busy, if I wanna be involved in something, I want to pay attention to it and nurture it. It takes energy to be with someone.” 

“It's not arrogant, it's the truth. I was telling Taylor the same thing the other day,” you tell him. “I can't date because I don't have the time to, but...” 

“But what?” Pedro interrupts. 

“Don't rush me, dude,” you chuckle. “But I'm also human, and I have needs sometimes, and it sucks that I can't just go to a bar like a regular person and sit on the barstool, have a drink, and wait for someone to approach me so we can go to their place and have sex and forget about it the next morning,” you finally admit, staring down at your finger swirling over the rim of your glass. 

“No strings attached," he adds, his voice scratchy. “I, um, ha. I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.”

“Hooking up with someone like that in our world would involve lots of NDAs,” you say, laughing. 

“Oh yes, very romantic stuff.” 

His eyes were doing the thing, the Pedro thing, and you did your best to ignore the way your heart lurched. The moment was charged with tension, and you both knew that there was more to say, and since neither of you dared to break the silence, someone else decided to break it for you, clearing their throat loudly and making you both jump. You turn to see Javiera standing by the door, looking amused and a little bit smug. 

"I just wanted to let you guys know the rest of us are going out for dinner, in case you're interested in joining us," she said, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Uh, no. Thanks, I'm beat. The wine has made me sleepy.” 

“I'm gonna have to pass too, sis,” Pedro tells her. “You guys have fun.”

“Yeah, you too,” she says with a sly smile. “We'll be back late!” 

After she leaves, you stand up and stretch your arms, feeling the effects of the wine yourself. “Woah. Too much wine,” you chuckle. “I should head to bed now before I regret it in the morning.”

“Me too,” he breathes out as he gets up, collecting his glass and yours. "Goodnight, princesa," he adds with a smile before you head towards the door. “Goodnight, P.” 

•••

As soon as you entered your room, you immediately hopped in the shower, hoping to wash away the exhaustion from the day and also the dirty thoughts that had been lurking in your mind.

The warm water cascading down your body helped ease the tension in your muscles, and you let out a contented sigh. After a few minutes, you stepped out and changed into fresh clothes. 

As you lie in bed, the conversation you had an hour before with Pedro seems to replay in your mind. 

I wish I could do that too. You're not alone.

You promised yourself you wouldn't cross that line again. The last time you took that black, bold line and made it gray, it came with consequences. But you're not known for making the best decisions when it comes to these matters anyway. 

You start to feel anxious and restless, unable to quiet your thoughts or fall asleep.

Perhaps a glass of water will help.

As you walk out of the bedroom, everything is dark, meaning everyone is still out for dinner. You have only the soft glow of the city outside the large windows to guide your way. 

Hesitating as you walk through the hallway towards the stairs, you slow your steps, not entirely trusting your eyes to keep you from running into anything in the dark, unfamiliar space in such low light. Before you reach the stairs, you notice the light underneath Pedro's room, casting a faint glow onto the hallway carpet.

He's still up, you thought. 

Before you even realized what you were doing, you were heading toward his room. 

“Pedro?” you call out his name as you gently knock on the door, “You up?”

“Bathroom! Come in!”  he screams. You reach the doorknob and push it open. The sound of water running fills your ears as you step inside. You plop down sideways on his bed, legs dangling off the edge, and wait for him to finish his shower. The chilly night air seeps in through the slightly open door of his balcony, making you shiver. 

“Can't sleep?” His voice is soft and soothing as he walks out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry and wearing only black boxers. You avert your gaze, trying to ignore the way just looking at his face, with his golden skin from all the sun exposure, the shadow of dark scruff on his cheeks, and his brown eyes crinkled by a soft smile, makes your heart race. 

“Nope,” you mumble. “Too much on my mind, I guess.” 

“Enlighten me, please,” he quickly replies, returning to the bathroom. You get off the bed, take a deep breath, and try to compose yourself, but the sight of him in those boxers makes it difficult. You know that if you start talking about what's really on your mind, things might get even more complicated between the two of you. 

“Uh...” you huffed out a laugh as the scenario played in your head, your legs almost giving out as you felt your guts twisting. Your mouth fell slightly agape as he stepped back into the room, “What's so funny?” he inquired. You fidget with your fingers and look at him, still chuckling a bit, “That conversation we had earlier. I can't stop thinking about it," 

Pedro leaned against the bathroom door, his face puzzled, reflecting that he had no idea which of the many conversations you two had today you were referring to. “The one about hooking up, I mean. And how you wish you could do that too," you continue, not bothering to try and hide the small beginnings of a smile from Pedro's watchful gaze, entirely more interested in testing the waters than anything else.

“Oh?” is all Pedro gives by way of a reply, not that you mind much since that works just as well as a real answer theoretically could. “Oh," you confirm. This could go either way, but as of right now, you're willing to take the risk. 

His gaze is fixed on you, and you go back to lying on the bed, closing your eyes as if you're bracing for the impact of the unknown. “I was wondering if—and I might be making a complete fool of myself by saying this—but what if...” you trail off. "What if we..?” you can't bring yourself to finish the sentence, suddenly realizing that once you say it, you can't take it back. 

“Fucked?” he interrupts, and your eyes shoot open, surprised by his bluntness. You sit up on the bed, heart racing as you try to gather the courage to speak. “I mean, we-we know each other, and we're both horny, and we wouldn't have to sign any NDAs,” you joke, trying to lift the weight off the air.  

"That's true," Pedro quips quickly, though any hint of eagerness in his reply is tempered by the softness of his voice. You feel the blush that rises in your cheeks at the implication in his words and you look away, seemingly breaking the trance you’ve been in. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” you repeat, dumbfounded.

“Would you rather have me say no?” he chuckles, crossing his arms as he leans one shoulder into the doorframe and deciding that for now he’ll stay where he is, knowing he looks like a smug jerk but unable to help himself. 

“No!” you tell him, rather eagerly. “I mean, of course you can say no. We don't have to do this if you're not into it,” you add softly. 

He says your name and looks into your eyes, "My answer's yes.”

“Okay, but I have some rules,” you get off the bed, body tensed with anticipation. “Of course you do,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrow and giving you a knowing smile. 

“No feelings. This can only happen while we're here. Once we go back to our normal lives, this never happened,” you tell him. He nods, taking a slow step forward and then another, and although there’s still a great deal of space between the two of you, you can feel the tension building. "Also, we can't tell anybody about this, not even our closest friends,” you continue.

He's closer now, feeling his breath on your face, and his hands find their way to your waist. "It's our little secret," he whispers, and you grab his shoulders to steady yourself.

“And no nicknames. No princesa, no baby, no love,” you try to sound stern but your voice betrays the excitement you feel. 

He grins mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “But there's no fun in that.” 

“Fine. You can call me whatever you want,” you give in, finding his amusement endearing.  

“Well, that was easy,” he chuckles, his grin widening. “Are you done with your rules?” 

“Yes, I guess so,” you stammered, feeling a bit embarrassed for being so easily swayed by his charm. 

“Good,” he says, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “So I can start doing this,” he whispers, his hand sliding down your pajama shorts, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin. "And this," he adds, as his lips press against your neck. 

When you finally make yourself let go and stop fighting for some false sense of restraint for even one second longer, you notice that something changes in the way Pedro touches you, as if he's more confident and sure of himself.

His free hand moves up to hold the back of your head to hold you in place. You do the same, your hands finding their way to his broad shoulders for support. The tip of his finger under your shorts traces over where you’re slick and too ready for him. His mouth is tantalizingly close to yours, brown eyes staring into yours, pining and desperately waiting. “Can I?” he asks. 

It's humorous and sweet even that he's asking permission to kiss you when one of his hands is already under your pants. Every rational thought disappears, and you crush your mouth against his. 

Everything is slow and heavy, and he never lets his finger slide into you even when you silently beg for it. Just dragging it over and back—too little and too much all at the same time.

He presses the pad of his finger into your clit, and you have to break away from his mouth to groan, overwhelmed, knees wobbly. Pedro laughs quietly and nuzzles against your neck so his beard scruffs. 

“Mi princesa,” he whispers against your neck, kissing it softly, “you make such pretty sounds." 

There is a real chance you could spontaneously combust into flames just from the sound of his voice and his sweet nothings. He continues to draw circles on your clit making you moan and writhe in pleasure, feeling like you're about to explode with ecstasy. As he whispers more sweet words in your ear, you can't help but surrender to the intense sensations he's giving you.  

“Is that good?” he asks, his voice rough, “Does that feel good?” 

“Yes," you whisper, a hand traveling to his hair, tugging it tightly. “Yes.” 

Just when you're about to come undone, he suddenly stops. Your eyes quickly find his for some explanations as to why he decided to put on hold the very satisfying and impending orgasm that was building up within you. “Oops,” he simply states, a grin plastered on his face.  

“I fucking hate you,” you whine, pulling away from him. “I was so close! What you do that for?”

"I have some rules, too."

“Now?” you ask him, clearly frustrated with his antics. “Well, go on.” 

“Actually, it's just one,” Pedro says, arching his eyebrows and giving you a knowing smile. His reaction is met by narrowed eyes, like you’re making sure to watch him closely until you figure out where exactly he’s going with this. "You do as I say. Which also means you come when I say." 

“Sounds—” you're regaining your footing, regaining control over yourself, trying to reinstate some power, but the way he just said those words has taken away any sense of authority you thought you had. His voice is commanding, with no room for compromise or disobedience. “Sounds dangerous, but... alright.” 

“Good girl, now get on the bed,” he says, and the timbre of his voice nearly kills you then and there, the dropping pitch making the words come out rough and serious. Pedro still sounds like himself, since his normal voice is more than enough to make you a little weak at the knees on a regular day, this new variant is a completely different monster. 

You lay there, waiting for his next instruction, as the shadows danced on the walls and the sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence. Once he reaches the bed and fists his hands in the sheets on either side of your thighs, bending down until he’s face to face with you, your eyes level with his. You let your hands roam over his broad shoulders and down his torso, feeling his tense muscles relax under your touch. 

“I need you now, P,” you mumble, and you move your hand lower to hold him through his boxers. He twitches into you. 

“What did I say?” his dark eyes are fixed on you as he reaches for your hand and pins it above your head. "I don't think you fully understand the consequences of disobeying me. We'll do this my way," he whispers menacingly.

This dark side of Pedro is one you've never seen before. The Pedro you know is a sunshine. However, the man on top of you right now is a completely different person, and you're more than the ready to get to know him. 

“Keep your hands above your head. No touching."

Your body is aching for him, all willing and open, but he’s sliding down you, pushing your shorts down as he goes. His soft hands trace your thighs and stops at your knees, “Open up for me.” 

"So pretty," he says, voice thick. You look down to see his face, pupils blown wide. “Can't wait to taste you, baby.” 

You're a wreck. A writhing, moaning, shaking wreck. Shit. You don't even need to be looking at his face to know how arrogant he is right now, not that you could—it's buried deep inside between your thighs. You're desperate to grab his hair just to see where misbehaving will take you, but you settle for the headboard. 

He kisses your cunt, messy and hot. A groan rumbles in his throat and he moves his tongue in circles, exploring every inch of your wetness. You arch your back, lost in pleasure, as he continues to devour you with his mouth. When you look down again, his brown eyes are staring back at you as his fingers slide into you, finding the right spot in milliseconds. It's fucking game over. 

His pace increases as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue and his goddamn nose. “Pedro...” you whimper, out of breath. “P-Please let me cum." 

“Not yet, baby," he chuckles, fingers continue to expertly tease and stroke your sensitive areas, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. "I know you can hold it for a little longer,” you cry out, gripping the bedsheets as you desperately try to move your hips to ride his fingers. Your eyes are watering slightly from how good he’s making you feel. 

“You can cum now.”

Every part of your body spasms, and you scream, everything buzzing and vibrating as you tighten around him, bucking and thrashing, pleasure and electricity flooding your body. Removing his fingers, he starts kissing the inside of your thighs, all the way up to your belly and lips. As you try to catch your breath, he whispers in your ear, "That was just the beginning. I want to make you cum again and again."

You can tell Pedro loves the way your face heats up at his words. “Please do,” you tell him, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and your wandering hands are met by bare, warm skin and the short, neatly cropped hair that grows thicker the further down your fingers dare to venture.

“I know you said you're in charge, but I really need you to take this off,” you say, losing your ability to wait for orders. To your surprise, he complies and gets off the bed, slides down his boxers, just as you get rid of your t-shirt. You can't help but admire the sight of him fully exposed and ready for you, moving to the drawer to pull out a condom, tearing the packet and rolling it onto himself. 

“You can take a picture, it'll last longer." 

“Don't get cocky.”

Pedro settles between you once again, and you grab his face. His eyes glistened, his hot breath on your skin as he leans in closer. Your thumb brushes against the tiny white scar on his nose. “You've marked me forever,” he chuckles, as he cradles your head and kisses you, his nose brushing against yours. 

You grab his length and give him a slow, steady stroke from base to tip, then back down. His mouth leaves yours as his dick twitches in your firm grasp, causing him to groan involuntarily. The pace of your hand up and down his length never picking up or slowing down, instead maintaining the same teasingly slow pace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers softly.

“Yes.” 

Pedro guides himself over you, the head of his cock slipping over where you’re open, up to rub on your clit so your fingers dig into his shoulders. His nose nudges gently against yours, “I'll be gentle, princesa.” 

“I don't want you gentle. I want you rough.” 

“Is that so?”

You moan, eyes closing. You can't even remember how to breathe, let alone speak. Pedro pushes only his head into you, opening you before pulling out, leaving you contracting around nothing. “I'm going to fuck you roughly, and you'll take it like a good girl, won't you?”

“Yes, P,” you rasp, hands sliding across his back. He's playing with you and knows how to make it almost unbearably good. He pushes deeper into you this time, and you can feel your body resist, protesting that he's too big, too much, and he pulls out. He drags his cock over where you're slick and messy before thrusting forward as far as he can. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, back arching and pushing your stomach into his. "Oh my God.”

“You feel so fucking good, baby. Like you're made for me." 

Your legs wrap around his hips, ankles crossing at the bottom of his back, to keep him there, deep inside you. His head drops to your shoulders, pressing his lips to your collarbone. You're close, again.

“Please...” you beg, moaning like you've lost all sanity, his mouth pulls away slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Please what?" he asks, his voice low and husky. 

“More, please, I need more."

The way Pedro's fucking you right now borders on dangerous, making you question lots of things—things you'd rather not think about right now, as he reaches for your hand and places it on your lower stomach. “Feel that?” 

You're not sure who moans louder: you when you realize why he's put your hand here, or Pedro when your walls clench involuntarily around his cock at the sensation. Your entire body tightens as you cry out, coming undone once again. 

He presses his lips against your forehead and rolls you over, his cock still buried inside you. 

“Pedro…that was…” you pant, body on top of his. “Did you come?”

He smirks. “Not yet, because you're gonna ride me now.” 

Despite the fact that your body is weak and spent, the simple thought of being on top of him is enough fuel to make you feel a surge of energy. You straddle his hips, feeling his hardness against you, and sinking down on his dick. 

“Like this?” you ask as you begin to move your body in sync with his, Your hips swirl and grind down, and Pedro's face is filled with pleasure. “Yes, mi amor. Just like that.” 

Every rock of your hips and the way Pedro's pushing into you are the perfect rhythm. His hands grip your hips so tight, you're pretty sure it'll leave bruises for days. You lean down, his mouth close by your ear, as he fucks into you, hearing him whisper things only you get to hear. “you feel so good, baby, taking my cock so fucking well.”  

Everything is so overwhelming—your body responding to his every thrust and word. It's a moment of pure ecstasy, and you never want it to end. Collapsing onto his chest, your fingers reach up to grip his hair. The satisfying sound of slapping skin echoes through the room, and you're suddenly glad there's no one in the house. 

Pedro slaps your ass as you're still rocking back against his thrust. “You're gonna cum for me again, baby?” 

“Yes, yes, yes!” you moaned as your body trembled with pleasure, mouth crashing into his, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back, and you feel him spill into the condom. He curses out your name as he's twitching and spasming inside you.

The post-sex haze settles over you both as you lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. After a couple of minutes, Pedro finally slips out of you and heads to the bathroom. You manage to get up, body aching. As you gather your clothes from the floor and dress up, he emerges from the bathroom, his face puzzled.

“What are you doing?” 

You chuckle, “Leaving.” 

Of course you didn't want to leave, but since you agreed this was just sex and nothing more, staying sounds like a dangerous situation.

There's no need to make this situation more complicated than it already is, even if you gaslight yourself into thinking this is fine as long as you're both on the same page. 

“No,” he interjects. “Stay.” 

“Pedro, we said—"

“I know what we said, but stay. Just for tonight.” 

You give him a warning look, and he gives you the same look back. “It'll make me feel dirty if you leave." you burst out laughing, and his face turns red. How's this the same man that just minutes ago was whispering the filthiest things into your ear?  

“Okay, I'll stay.”  

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed and no signs of Pedro. If you weren't lying on his bed, legs hurting like you ran a marathon, and your body wrapped in his warm blankets, you would have thought it was all a dream. Because in your dreams is the only place you are together, it's where you come home to him and he comes home to you. 

You could still feel his hands moving over your skin, his breath on your neck, and the way he whispered in your ear, making you feel like the most loved person in the world. 

Except it wasn't lovemaking; it was just sex. 

The warmth of the hot chilean sun spilled through the bedroom window, casting a golden glow on the walls and illuminating the dust particles that danced in the air. The distant sound of soft music and laughter from downstairs made you smile as you sat up against the headboard. 

The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts, and you looked up to see Pedro wearing the coziest looking sweater, his dark hair all over the place, and presumably a cup of coffee in his hand. “Good morning, solecito,” he says sitting down next to you. "I made you a cup of coffee, just the way you like it." 

You take the cup from his hand, fingers touching. “It can't possibly still be morning,” you rasp, voice still hoarse. 

“No, it's not," he tells you. “It's 2:30pm.” 

The fear in your face is palpable. “Fuck, did I miss the gift exchange?” you blurt out.

Pedro's pursed lips and guilty expression made it clear that you, in fact, missed the happiest time of the day. “No...” you dragged out, “Why didn't you wake me up?!” you demanded, hitting him on the shoulder.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep, you looked so peaceful," he replied with a sheepish grin. "But if it makes you feel better, everyone loved what you got them." 

You groan in response. “I hate you so much.”

“Are you always this mean when you wake up?" 

You shrug, bringing the cup to your lips. “Eh, only when I have to deal with people who make me miss the fun part of Christmas." 

“Let's talk about how my dad got the better gift, by the way,” he tells you, moving his hands energetically. “And how I'm definitely not jealous at all.” 

“I had to impress him, and you can never go wrong with a Rolex,” you remark with a grin. “Plus, you deserve it after doing the most evil thing you could do to me.” 

“You mean caring for your wellbeing and letting you rest after the very... eventful night you had?” he says teasingly. “Shut up,” you reply, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. In true Pedro fashion, he dramatically dodges the pillow and grins slyly, "You can't silence me that easily."

“I have other ways,” you quickly reply.

Oh, how you love to play with fire. 

Pedro raises an eyebrow and chuckles, “Is that so?”

You hum. The tension is palpable in the air as you look into his eyes, trying to read his face. You wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart. 

“Wanna see what I got you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled, his eyes still on you. 

“Dying to,” you say, pretending not to notice how he changed the subject, setting the coffee mug on the nightstand, “but first I need to shower before I go downstairs.”

“No need,” he reaches for his front pocket, pulling out a small wrapped package. You eagerly take it from him, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Espero que te guste.”

Tearing the paper off and opening the black box, you find a beautiful necklace with a delicate gold chain and a small emerald pendant. “Now I feel like an asshole,” you say, immediately regretting getting him a bunch of funny socks. Your eyes are still fixed on the necklace. 

Pedro laughs, your favorite sound in the world, “Hey, I love my socks. You didn't have to get me so many though,”

“I didn't know which ones you'd like better, so I got you a bunch of ‘em,” you say, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. “This is so beautiful," 

“It's your favorite gemstone," he says softly, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Your eyes meet his, and for a split second, everything is okay.

You rush forward to embrace him, catching him off guard by the way he chuckles and says oh. He wraps his arms tightly around you, and you nuzzle into his neck, feeling the soft fabric of his sweater and the familiar scent of his cologne. “Thanks so much, P,” you say, voice drowning on his skin.  

“Merry Christmas, mi amor."

No strings attached, spontaneous, fun, and only while you're here. That's what you and Pedro agreed upon when you decided to have sex five nights ago. But the way he has you pinned against the shower wall and making your legs tremble with pleasure right now has you thinking of a way to make him not want to do this with anyone else.

The slick, wet sounds of Pedro's fingers pumping in and out of you filled the bathroom as you moaned in bliss. “Can you be a good girl for me and be quiet?” his nose brushes against yours, “We don't want them to hear us, do we?” 

You shake your head, blown away, feeling suffocated, as he drags two fingers over your swollen clit. Your jaw sags as the pleasure floods your body as he applies more pressure to it, causing you to grumble in pleasure. As two fingers slide into you, deliciously stretching you, he covers your mouth with his, absorbing your satisfied moan.

He pulled his mouth away from yours, and the water slipped through his hair, dampening it and sticking it back on his forehead. "Open your mouth," he says, a glint in his eyes as you look at him, bewildered. He presses two fingers against your tongue and the sweet-salty taste fills your mouth as you suck on his fingers. “See how fucking good you taste.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I need to feel you inside me."

Pedro lets his hand wander around your hips and slowly drags it down, lifting your leg and securing it around his hip. He took the space between your thighs, aligned himself with your entrance, and pushed in, giving you a split second to adjust before pulling out and thrusting back in.

He was moving faster, and you felt like a ragdoll in his arms, so euphoric from your high that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted to you and you'd gladly accept it. 

“F-faster, please,”

You've had sex in a variety of positions over the last few days, but there was something about this position and the access it provided that you found incredibly satisfying. His wet, solid chest pressed against yours, his hand tight against your thigh as he buried himself deep within you.

Pedro let out a low groan, one you were all too familiar with by this point, indicating that he was about to finish. His hips trembled and he let out a final grunt, his breaths ragged and heavy as he came inside of you, mouths meeting in a kiss. 

The two of you stood there, still in that proximity for a moment, full of love and softness because above all else, he was your best friend. 

“Can I wash your hair?” 

“Only if you let me wash yours after,” he replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle.

“Deal.” 

Since they had a low-key Christmas consisting mainly of hot chocolate, fuzzy sweaters and movies, the family decided to plan a big New Year's Eve celebration to make up for it. Which prompted you to take a quick trip to the city yesterday in search of a dress because you hadn't packed anything fancy. 

Pedro insisted that you didn't have to stress over that, to which you obviously objected.

“Sorry, but I'm not taking fashion advice from someone who has like three t-shirts and a pair of jeans,” you said, scrolling through your phone in search of stores. “You wound me, baby,” he replied, putting a hand on his chest in mock pain. “But if you insist on shopping, let me take you.”

“No, you still have to help Javi with the party,” you said, getting up from the the couch. “I'll drive there, and I'll take Pedro and Bruno with me.”  

Pedro looked at you slowly, processing your statement, looking uncertain.

“Google Maps is a thing, and we'll be fine. Now give me your keys.”

“I like it when you're bossy,” he said, his voice lowering with a hint of a smile. “They're on the counter."

And thanks to the heavens, you decided to make an effort and find something suitable for the occasion because they went all out. 

The bass pounded through the walls as the guests danced and laughed, enjoying the party. The colorful decorations and delicious food made it a night to remember.

“Oh my god, they're gone,” Javiera groans, referring to the tray of now empty lemon bars that were apparently the highlight of the dessert table. “I wanted another one!” 

“I made another batch, I hid them in the oven,” you quickly tell her, feeling a little proud of yourself over the fact that people were enjoying what you made. “I'll go get them.”

“I will come with you.”

Once you both reach the empty kitchen, you go straight to the oven, pulling out the tray of lemon bars and setting it on the kitchen island. 

“Thank you for taking Pedro and Bruno out yesterday, by the way."

"I had so fun much with them. They're great boys and even better fashion advisers,” you tell her, gesturing to your burgundy dress. 

“Glad to know I've taught them well,” she says laughing. 

As you cut the bars into perfect squares, Javiera grabs one and takes a bite, savoring the tangy sweetness. "These are amazing, you should consider selling them," she exclaims, closing her eyes in content. 

You smile. “In another lifetime, I own a bakery in a small town with a living unit attached to the top. I have a beautiful green kitchen, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to people."

Javiera gives you a warm smile as you grab the powdered sugar. “You know,” she says reluctantly. “I see things and I feel things,” you stop what you're doing to look up at her, confused. “My brother's just scared.” 

Confusion is quickly replaced with clarity as you realize where she's going with this. You open your mouth to say something, but she shuts you down. “He's created this wall to protect himself, he's been through a lot, and he has convinced himself that this is enough, that he doesn't need more, but I know better.” 

A sigh leaves your lips, all of those feelings bubble up until you can't get a good breath, until you’re drowning. She continues, “I have seen you two together, friends don't look at each other like that." 

You know that she's right, but things aren't so simple. Not when it comes to this. 

“Maybe in another lifetime," is all you tell her, grabbing the lemon bars and heading out of the kitchen. 

•••

The backyard is a wonderland of string lights and bunting, the air is filled with the sound of laughter and music as people dance under the stars. You were lost in conversation with Pedro's father. He shared more stories of his youth, what got him to pursue medicine, and how he met Pedro's late mother, leaving you feeling nostalgic for a time you never knew. 

He catches you looking away, follows your gaze straight to Pedro, and smiles knowingly. “I hope you have a good flight tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you say, blushing a little at your own transparency. “Thank you for everything, really.”

“We hope you come back soon, It was a pleasure to have you,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you. He walks off, pausing for a moment to talk to Pedro. Smiles were exchanged, and then he continued his way.  

Pedro looks exceptionally good tonight. Hair perfectly styled, white shirt perfectly stretching over his back. You drink up his movements as he approaches you, a smile plastered on his face.

“Who did your hair?” you ask him, knowing damn well this was someone else's doing because he didn't know how to do it. “My sister,” he replied, chuckling. 

“She's doing the Lord's work,” you tell him, folding your arms, feeling exposed by the way he's staring. It's comical that you feel this way, as if he hasn't seen you naked for the past week. 

“I'm gonna have to hire someone to do my hair at all times if you like it this much.”

“I like it either way,” you admitted, "but I just think it looks extra good when it's styled like this." 

His mouth splits into quite possibly your favorite of his various smiles, the one that makes it look like there's a secret tucked up in one corner of his mouth. “Dance with me?”

“Always.” 

You take his hand and pull him to the deck, beneath the twinkling lights and away from the crowd, while the Bee Gees' “How Deep Is Your Love” plays like the universe just wants to mock you. Pedro folds your hand up in his warm palm, and you rest your cheek against his shoulder, closing your eyes to focus on how this feels. 

It feels right, it feels perfect, and it feels like it's gonna end. 

He nestles his mouth into your hair and breathes you in as you sway. His sister's words ring in your ear once again: My brother's just afraid. 

You allow yourself to imagine this feeling lasting. A world within a world just for you and Pedro, where people just let you both be. Where you belong to each other. And then you invite reality forward to change the story. 

You're working all day, taking endless flights to different locations, because you're trapped in a cycle of wanting to do more and never feeling like it's enough. Pedro exhausted from long days of shooting, press, taking endless flights, and getting pulled down by gravity. 

Unaswered texts. Missed calls. Grief. Hurt. Distance. Missing each other. Fighting. Falling apart. 

And you realize you're afraid too and this can never be.

“Pedro.”

There's a lengthy silence. His voice is a raspy, growly mutter. “I know. But don't say it.”

You don't look at each other. You just need to hold on to each other because if you look, you'll see that this make-believe game is over. You both feel the warmth of each other's embrace and the unspoken words between you. The silence is comforting yet suffocating.

His arms squeezed around you as everyone started to countdown. Cheers filled the air. Fireworks broke out over the sky in a thousand different colors. He tells you happy new year, and you say it back, never letting go. 

Even though you never said it to each other, you both knew. The love was there, and it didn't change anything. 

Maybe in the future, maybe in another lifetime.

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it, thank you for reading :) (i know this ending feels like this is it for them HOWEVER i will be making several other parts because i can't stop writing about this lol)

[tomboy014]

The Prince's

So, I hadn’t originally planned on doing anything for Dani, but this post from @aziraphale-is-a-cats-a-cat got me thinking about things, and I ended up writing this.

So, while the men of the Justice League are trying to figure out who Dani is a clone of, Wonder Woman takes one look at the black haired, blue eyed, mischievous girl and can’t help but see herself in her and claim, “Mine.”

The rest of the League try, but there’s no arguing with Diana now that she’s set her mind on something, but Bruce and Clark have kids and know it’s not as easy as it looks to take care of them.  She’s only ever been the “fun aunt;” she’s never had to get into the dirty, exhausting parts of parenthood before.  It escalates to a full-blown argument, but if Dani has any say in it, she’d rather chill at Wonder Woman’s place for a while.  It sounds better than staying in some gross cave or ice castle, and space isn’t her thing (the same way it’s Danny’s), so she’d rather not stay in the Watchtower.

Arguments about clones and custody continue over the next few weeks, not helped by the fact that Dani is still pretty unconcerned about the whole situation.  Or, she was unconcerned until Vlad showed up.  He’d decided enough was enough and it was long past time he collect his property.

It only takes a single scream.

Diana bursts into the room, fist connecting with Vlad’s jaw, and he’s knocked across the room.

“Don’t.  Touch.  My child.”

She proceeds to hand his ass to him on a bronze platter before he flees into the night, bruised and bloody.

Now it’s Dani’s turn to latch onto Diana’s leg, shouting “Mine!”  This is her new, kick-ass mommy and no one else can have her.  Dibs!  No take backs!  Well, it’s settled, now.  Diana is officially Dani’s mom, and no member of the JLA can stop it.  She scoops Dani up in her arms, and before she’s even out the door, she’s already telling the other Amazon’s the good news and making plans to take Dani to Themyscira to meet her γιαγιά Hippolyta. 

The two work on figuring out family life, and all’s good for a while.  Dani’s got a (relatively) stable home life and is quickly adapting to life as “Danielle Prince.”  She likes that the name sounds similar to Diana’s, like it was on purposeful choice rather than a cheap knockoff of her original’s name, and she’s getting a lot more comfortable with it.  Bruce, thoroughly defeated and resigned to put away the adoption papers, helps her enroll is a good school and finds tutors to catch her up on the years of schooling she didn’t live through.  (This includes Jason Todd, who has volunteered himself as an excuse to hang out with Wonder Woman more.)  Louis helps her get legal paperwork and documents for Dani (something she helped do for Kon).  She makes friends with Damian and Jon.  And she’s just as skilled as Danny with language, so she’s picking up Greek rapidly.

Since Diana’s adopted her and she’s gained an army of superpowered babysitters, Dani is finally starting to feel comfortable enough to share some information with the League.  It’s not much, but she lets them know Plasmius is the one who cloned her, and her last name used to be Fenton.

Oh, no.  Between those colors and facial features, Clark has a pretty good guess at which Fenton family she came from.  Still, the family is enormous, so he doesn’t know which Fenton exactly was cloned, but the family reunion is this year, and wouldn’t hurt to give Dani a bigger support system.  Would she and Diana like to come?

Vlad, meanwhile, has recovered and is pissed.  After shadowing Wonder Woman from a healthy distance, he finds out she’s supermodel Diana Prince.  Plasmius may not have been a match for Wonder Woman, but billionaire Vlad Masters is more than capable of taking some supermodel down a peg or two.

So, he approaches Diana at work, telling her he knows who she is and that he wants his “daughter” back.  His “minion” might not have been a match for her, but if she refuses to comply, he’ll ruin her career.

And she laughs.  Laughs right in his face.  Loudly.  Because she knows he’s bluffing.  A billionaire and supermodel isn’t anything new as far as the media is concerned; it’s a cliché.  But a deadbeat billionaire dad threatening to steal back an illegitimate child from an abandoned single mother?  After years of not paying any child support?  The media would eat something like that right up.  Something that could drop stock prices and ruin political careers.  That’s something anyone would be desperate to keep hushed up and out of the media spotlight, and she’ll drag him kicking and screaming into said spotlight if he comes anywhere near her daughter.  Or maybe the media would prefer to know the real story about his illegal cloning?  After all, that went over so well for Lex Luthor. 

Vlad leaves, and Diana makes a few calls.  First, she makes sure Clark heard everything in that conversation and sets him on the warpath against DalvCo if need be.  She gets Bruce up to speed, and if there’s one thing he’s in the best position to do, it’s to hit Vlad where it really hurts: his wallet.  Vlad was already a pretty scummy businessman.  Wayne Enterprises didn’t need much of an excuse to cancel or back out of business deals with him.

But Diana is still shaken up by the event, even if she’s not going to let it show.  Right now, she wants to send Dani away to Themyscira behind a wall of Amazons where she knows no one will be able to touch her, but Bruce and Louis talk her down.  Dani’s finally settling into a normal-ish life, and uprooting her now will not help her, and if push comes to shove, trying to whisk her away will not look good to the courts.  Louis knows a great lawyer, and Bruce is willing to foot the bill.

For Vlad, that did not go as expected at all.  He hadn’t expected her to know Danielle was a clone, and he doesn’t want Danielle to be public knowledge.  However, he has no intention of getting lawyers involved; she’d be expecting that.  No, he has something far more insidious planned.  It’s been decades since he’s attended one, but the Fenton Family Reunion should be coming up soon, and as far at that family is concerned, once a Fenton, always a Fenton.  She’s prepared to fight lawyers?  Well, Let’s see how she fares against an army of angry grandparents and disapproving aunts demanding that his poor child be returned to him once he sets the family on the warpath.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 12/?

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

CW for this chapter: animal death

“Missing? What do you mean he’s missing?”

“I mean he’s missing—Howie and someone else in their coven tried a locator spell?” Tommy shot a questioning look at Evan, who just nodded in understanding. “And it apparently couldn’t focus on him, whatever that means.” Evan didn’t look away from the road, but Tommy saw his eyes widen. “What?”

“It’s, ah, it might be nothing. There’s ways to block locator spells.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in there somewhere,” Tommy said, wariness already creeping up the back of his neck.

“It’s hard,” Evan admitted. “Especially if you don’t know someone’s performing one. I mean…if Jon—Greenway was paranoid about his coven finding out what he was doing, he could’ve taken precautions.”

Tommy raised a silent eyebrow, waiting for the other shoe he could just sense hovering in the air. Evan’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“But, those kinds of spells take a lot of energy, and I can’t imagine his coven wouldn’t have noticed.”

“So, if he didn’t block the locator spell, then why wouldn’t it be finding him?” Tommy asked, and was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

“Either he’s already outside the radius of the spell—not likely, unless this Howie guy is, like, thirteen. Or, um, or there’s nothing to find.”

“Fuck,” Tommy muttered. “All right. Howie and Sergeant Grant are going to his house to see what they can find. He asked me to try and see if he’s at the temp agency offices he’s been volunteering with.”

Evan’s hands flexed on the steering wheel, and Tommy heard his heartrate kick up a little. Tommy rubbed his jaw, silently considering. As much as he hated how wary and mistrustful Evan still was—and he did, against all sense and reason, he really did hate that Evan didn’t trust him…it felt so wrong, somehow—he did understand it. Unfortunately, he knew the only thing that might actually prove he was being sincere was to let Evan go. And somehow, he hated the thought of the witch actually leaving hi—leaving just as much as the thought that he didn’t trust him. It was rapidly becoming obvious, though, that this situation was becoming more dangerous by the second. Reluctantly, he came to a decision.

“I can’t make you come with me,” he said, his voice quiet in the cab.

“Yes, you can,” Evan countered immediately, and Tommy dipped his head in acknowledgement, even if he wasn’t entirely sure it was true. He was still unsure if he’d have been able to put Evan under his thrall if the witch hadn’t been panicking and unable to concentrate properly.

“All right, I could,” he said. “But I’m not going to. Get me to the office, or at least close—” He trailed off a moment, trying to understand why it felt so difficult to say what he wanted to say, the sense of wrongness just increasing at the notion of letting Evan leave his sight. “Do that, and you can leave. It’s still going to be safer for you if you leave the city entirely. But I won’t stop you.

Evan frowned, that same puzzled look from before taking over his handsome face. “Just like that?” he asked cautiously.

“Just like that,” Tommy confirmed.

“Won’t you, uh, won’t you get in, in trouble or something?”

“Yes,” Tommy said bluntly. Then he chuckled, his smile shifting into something a little sharp. “But I am almost a thousand years old. There’s not actually much Alonzo can do to me.” He leaned back against the headrest, staring out onto the streets of LA. “I won’t lie, it would be helpful if you came with me. If I’m going in there, I wouldn’t mind having a witch at my back…and I know you’re a damn powerful one.”

Evan was silent for a long time, guiding the Jeep past the exit for the highway and turning onto a new route. Tommy didn’t question it, content to give Evan as much time as he needed to think about it. As they continued driving, he turned the situation over and over in his mind, trying to figure out how all the pieces fit together. If what Evan said about locator spells was true, he wasn’t holding out much hope that they would find Greenway alive. Still…

“A witch selling out other witches to vampire covens would have to be stupid not to have an escape plan,” Tommy mused out loud, tapping the screen of his phone with his thumb. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that Greenway had realized that whatever he intended to happen to Evan hadn’t happened and he immediately booked it. Especially if he’d known how Gerrard tended to…retaliate when things didn’t go his way. Except.

“Okay, now I’m sensing a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence,” Evan said tiredly.

“But,” Tommy acknowledged, “the more I think about it, the more I don’t think Gerrard realized you were there. That you’re a witch, I mean.”

“Huh?”

Tommy sighed and rolled his neck back and forth, the familiar tension flooding him at the mere thought of Gerrard. God, how he hated that asshole. “If Gerrard knew what you were, he would’ve had you chained up on display, not serving cocktails. He would’ve made a spectacle of it, would’ve made everyone watch while he drank from you. Even if he didn’t know which one of the workers was a witch for some reason, he wouldn’t have just let you wander around the party where anyone could claim you as soon as the—uh—the main event started.” They had pulled to a stop at a red light, and Evan turned horrified eyes on him. Tommy gave him a grim, humorless smile. “Evan, I get why you don’t trust me—I really do. But I wasn’t kidding when I said anything I offered was better than what would happen to you at that house.”

Evan’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment, before he snapped his attention back to the road in front of them. “How…how do you even know this guy? If, if, if you’re so different, why do you know so much about him?”

Tommy chose to ignore the sarcasm dripping from the phrase so different.

“Vincent Gerrard—the coven master of that party—he’s one of the major players in LA. Has been for decades. His coven’s one of the most powerful in the state. He’s a fucking monster. Even for one of us, he’s…he’s awful. Always been awful. He and I were turned around the same time. By the same vampire. I had to share a coven with him for centuries.” His voice dropped, and knew that his face had gone stone cold blank.

“I didn’t think vampire coven bonds were like ours,” Evan said, an almost reluctant curiosity coloring his words. “I thought they were more like political alliances? Couldn’t you just leave?”

“They are for the most part. I mean, we’re bound to our covens, but it’s a bond we choose to make between us and our coven master, something that can be broken on either side at any time. And yeah—now I could just leave my coven whenever I wanted to. Alonzo isn’t my maker. There’s a certain—connection between you and the vampire that made you. Depending on how strong your maker is, sometimes they can use that connection to keep their turns bound to them. Almost like our thrall. But the more turns you try it on, the harder it gets and the easier it is for them to break that connection. That’s why our covens are mostly alliances, especially these days. My maker kept his coven relatively small for a very long time, so I was…stuck.”

His memories of his days in the bastard’s coven had never faded the way his other memories had. They were still as sharp and clear as the day he’d experienced them, and he didn’t think he’d ever get over quite how unfair that was. Evan seemed to sense the darkness in the turn his thoughts had taken.

“There are kids in Jonah…er…Greenway’s coven, right?” he said suddenly. Tommy blinked at the non sequitur, and Evan clarified, “I saw them in that picture of Greenway your friend sent.”

“Ah. Yeah, at least a few, I think. Howie’s partner Henrietta Wilson has a son. Grant’s got a couple kids. And there’s a relatively new guy—Diego or Diaz or something. Howie’s mentioned he has a kid. Why?”

Evan just shook his head, a small furrow between his brows deepening. He pulled the Jeep onto the street in the address Howie had texted him right after they ended their call, a boulevard lined with office buildings. None of them were the towering skyscrapers of downtown LA, but they were tall enough that Tommy was pretty sure there would be enough shade on the street for him to stick to the sidewalks for the most part. To his surprise, though, Evan drove them to a public parking garage, taking the lane that would take them underground rather than the upper levels.

“We can get to an art gallery up top from this garage. It’s right next to Greenway’s building, and there’s a covered walkway between them,” Evan said, and Tommy looked up sharply.

“We?” he repeated. “So you’re—”

“I want to help,” Evan interrupted. He didn’t look over at Tommy, sitting up ramrod straight in his seat and clutching the steering wheel in both hands. “If—if LA is as close to coven war as it sounds like…I want to help.”

The relief that Tommy felt at Evan’s words was outsized. He knew that, and yet he couldn’t help feeling it. “Thank you,” he said, trying to push all of his relief and sincerity into the words.

Evan gave a short, sharp nod and climbed out of the Jeep, stepping into the shadowy, echoing garage. “So, so, so what are we looking for? What’s the plan?” he asked, pointing towards the building exit they needed to take and falling into step beside Tommy with only a slight hesitance.

“Right now, Grant just wants to know where the hell Greenway is. Assuming he’s still alive and just blocking Howie’s spell. If he’s here and trying to go on the run, I’ll stop him. But otherwise, we don’t need to engage. If it comes to a fight, you stay behind me. Cast whatever you need to cast, but I’d appreciate a heads up if you’re about to set anything on fire.”

He thought he saw Evan’s lips twitch at that, but couldn’t be sure. They made their way through the parking garage and up a flight of stairs, exiting into a brightly lit art gallery filled the kind of colorful, modern art and sculpture that Tommy had never really been able to get into. His only exposure to art of any kind had all been religious iconography for the longest time…he didn’t think he’d seen a painting or sculpture that didn’t feature Jesus, Mary, or some saint or angel until almost a century after he’d first met Sal. To his surprise, a couple of the gallery workers greeted Evan by name, their eyes flicking to Tommy curiously.

“Who’s your friend?” one of them, an older Hispanic woman with a thick braid of iron-gray hair hanging down her back, asked coyly. She looked Tommy up and down, her dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

Evan ducked his head, hiding his briefly panicked look, before shrugging one shoulder. “This is Kin—uh, T-Tommy. We’re just hanging out, Maria.”

Even stumbling over it, Tommy’s name sounded very nice in Evan’s mouth, he decided.

‘Maria’ looked Tommy up and down again and winked at Evan, who ducked again and hurried off with a quick wave, his cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. As Tommy followed the witch, he heard Maria lean over to her co-worker and whisper in Spanish, “Damn it, I didn’t even realize my grandson might have a chance!”

Tommy caught up to Evan easily, amusement sparking through him despite the possibly dire situation they were walking into. “You’ve got a fan club,” he remarked, and Evan made a strangled little noise in the back of his throat.

“She’s been trying to fix me up with her neighbor’s daughter for like three months,” Evan mumbled, heading for a pair of glass doors that did, indeed, open up onto a covered walkway lined with potted topiary. “The temp agency’s closed on Sundays, but they share a floor with a nonprofit that usually has people in on the weekends,” he continued. Tommy nodded and followed him out into the warm LA afternoon.

As he always did whenever he was outside in the daytime, he looked out through the spaces between the potted trees at the sunlit streets—frustratingly close, and yet forever out of his reach. If he were to step out into the sunlight, he would no longer immediately burst into flames (a fact he’d discovered in about sixty of the most terrifying seconds of either of his lives sometime in the late 1800’s when a feral vampire he and Sal had been hunting down as a favor to a local coven had somehow gotten the drop on him in the barn they’d chased it into). But sunlight was no longer the kiss of golden warmth he could only barely remember if he closed his eyes and concentrated very, very hard. It wasn’t instant death for him at his age, but even the briefest seconds of exposure were agonizing. Like his skin was being burned by pure acid.

Tommy wasn’t even sure if his memories of the sunlight were true memories, or just constructs he’d made up from poems and stories he’d heard over the years. He just knew he missed it. Missed it like he missed his mother’s face and voice, missed it like he missed the satisfaction of a good meal after a hard day’s work, missed it like the touch of a lover. Missed it like hundreds and thousands of other things that he could no longer experience, but more intensely.

He tore his eyes away from the sun-drenched street and followed Evan into the building that housed the temp agency Jonah Greenway had apparently been volunteering at. The lobby was completely deserted, but if the nonprofit Evan had mentioned was the only business in the building currently open, that wasn’t entirely surprising. Temp agencies and nonprofits were not typically known to require (or be able to afford) 24/7 security and reception services.

He automatically shifted in front of Evan to take point, faintly surprised when Evan immediately allowed it, falling into step just behind him. He was even more surprised when he realized how comfortable he felt with the witch on his six (to use the modern terminology). It was no small thing—he had been particular about who he would trust at his back before he’d been turned, and the centuries had only heightened that tendency. There wasn’t even any good reason to trust Evan behind him. The witch said he wanted to help, that he would assist Tommy in preventing the coven war that was brewing over the city, but Tommy had no particular reason to believe him.

He did, though.

He believed Evan easily. Completely. The same way that letting Evan go off to fend for himself, letting him leave Tommy’s side and his sight felt wrong this…this felt right.

They avoided the elevators, taking the stairwell instead. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you can do about the security cameras?” Tommy asked as they made their way up several flights. Josh would be willing to get into the building’s system and erase any footage of him and Evan, but he’d make Tommy pay for it. Somehow, some way, he’d make Tommy pay.

“The stairwell and the lobby are blind—none of the leases want to pay for building-wide security, so everyone’s just responsible for their own floor. I’ve heard a bunch of employees talk about how they go up and smoke on the roof during their lunch breaks. I can fry the cameras on the temp agency’s floor, but it’ll probably trigger an alarm.”

“So hasty exit. Check.”

As they closed in on the sixth floor, though, Evan suddenly halted on the stairs. “Wait—” he said, and when Tommy turned back to him, the witch was staring up towards the door one flight above them.

“What is it?” Tommy asked, sniffing the air curiously and straining to hear anything. Evan shook his head.

“Magic,” he said. “Someone’s been using magic here.”

Before Tommy could voice the question that sprang to his lips, he caught a familiar scent on the air and stiffened. “And I smell blood,” he said grimly. Evan sighed.

“What do you want to bet we found J—Greenway?” he asked rhetorically.

“I don’t take sucker’s bets,” Tommy said. “Remember, stay behind me.”

They hurried up the remaining stairs, the coppery smell of freshly spilled blood growing thicker by the second, and soon Tommy could feel the staticky charge of magic in the air as well. He listened intently at the door leading onto the temp agency’s floor, narrowing his eyes when he picked up on the watery, rasping breath of someone bleeding out on the floor. Fuck. If Greenway was alive, but injured, things had just gotten even more complicated.

He heard Evan mutter the same word he’d screamed in Gerrard’s mansion, and when he looked back over his shoulder, a ball of fire was dancing in Evan’s palm, He gave a slow nod of approval, and threw open the door.

Jonah Greenway was very, very dead.

The witch was lying on the tiled floor of the bland, featureless hallway that the stairwell let out on, surrounded by a small pool of swiftly cooling blood. His throat, wrists, even his thighs were torn and bloodied, flesh shredded like hamburger meat, barely clinging to the bone in some places. His eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling, his face a rictus of pain and terror.

About ten feet down the hallway, near the bank of elevators, was the source of the ragged, gasping breaths.

Tommy knew that coyotes were not unheard of in the less populated areas of LA, out toward the hills and the desert. But he’d never expected to see one right in the middle of the city.

“Oh no,” Evan breathed out, his voice thin and shaky. There was a soft whump of air as the fireball in Evan’s hands dissipated, and—contrary to what Tommy had just fucking warned him about—the witch darted around Tommy and raced for the coyote, skidding to his knees on the floor beside it. “Hey, hey, what happened? What can I do?” he asked frantically.

Greenway’s familiar, Tommy realized with a start as he raced forward, coming to a halt just at Evan’s shoulder. Of course, this had to be Greenway’s familiar. The creature was dying; Tommy could see that at a glance. Its belly had been ripped clean open, blood and viscera spilling out across the floor as it panted and twitched. Its muzzle and paws were stained scarlet, defensive wounds all over its body—the thing had put up a hell of a fight.

W—witch? I…I know…your…scent…

The animal didn’t speak. Tommy wasn’t entirely sure he heard the voice with his ears. And yet, it echoed around them, wheezy and full of pain.

“I’m Evan. I—I knew Jonah,” Evan said, gently laying his hand on the creature’s head. “I don’t…I’m not good at healing spells, but I can—”

Too late….too…late. N-nothing…nothing left…anyway. My witch…my witch betrayed…b-betrayed…I didn’t…didn’t real…realize. I thought…I thought…

“It’s okay,” Evan said, his voice soft and kind. “It’s okay, you didn’t know.”

Sh—should have…stupid…sh-should have k-known…too…late…

“Listen, Athena Grant sent us. You can still help make this right. What was Jonah doing here?” Evan asked urgently.

Athe…na? She…she knows… The coyote blinked hazily up at Evan. You—the w-witch my Jonah…sent…you lived… For a brief moment, the strange voice was filled with grateful relief. Jonah…he came for…h-hid the ev-evidence…here…get…Athena, get it…

“Whatever it is, I’ll make sure your coven leader gets it,” Evan promised. “What am I looking for?”

Hid it…th-they came for…I hid…the pl-planter…be-between… The coyote shuddered, a cluster of frothy, bloody bubbles spilling from its mouth. Evan pressed his lips together, gently stroking the creature’s head. Be…tween… the familiar’s voice whispered again.

Then it went still.

Tommy looked wildly around them, his eyes zeroing in on a set of decorative plastic ferns sitting in bronze-plated planters between each bank of elevators. “Is that what it was talking about? What are we looking for?” he demanded, standing up and stalking over to the nearest planter. He plunged his hand into the decorative gravel that lined the pot, sifting rapidly through it, only to find nothing. “Which one? Between what?”

“Not between something,” Evan said slowly, getting to his feet after gently closing the familiar’s eyes. “In the between.”

Tommy stared at him blankly. “What?”

Instead of answering, Evan walked over to the planters and stood in front of each one, peering straight forward before walking to the next one. After a moment, he paused by the next to last planter, and when Tommy followed the witch’s line of sight, he realized the planter was angled slightly so that its reflection appeared in the polished, stainless-steel doors of the elevator across the hallway from it. To his utter confusion, Evan started walking straight towards the elevators, keeping his body at the right angle so that his wavery, blurred reflection appeared in the elevator doors as well. As soon as he did, he paused, adjusting his position and holding out his hand so that it looked like it was hovering just over the planter in the reflection. Then he muttered a short phrase in the musical, lilting language of all his spells and closed his fist over empty air.

When he turned to face Tommy again, he held out his hand and opened his fingers to reveal a flash drive cupped in his palm.

Tommy couldn’t keep the surprise off his face. “Well. Never heard of that before. That’s handy.”

“Wonder what’s on it?” Evan said quietly. He handed it over to Tommy without protest, and Tommy tucked it safely into his front pocket.

“Something worth dying over, apparently,” Tommy said, and Evan flinched a little, turning to look sadly at Greenway’s body. “Come on, I don’t hear anyone else on this floor, but we should get out of here. Can you do your thing with the cam—what?”

Evan had frozen, his eyes going wide. “Jonah kept a silencing spell on his office. All the time,” he blurted out.

As if to emphasize the implications of that, Tommy became aware of footsteps. They seemed to appear mid-step, as if the person simply appeared out of thin air. Or stepped out of an office with magic fucking soundproofing. Several footsteps, all of them different in cadence and tone…several people. And Tommy wasn’t dumb enough to think they didn’t belong to a witch or a vampire. Without preamble, he grabbed Evan’s elbow and hustled him over to the nearest elevator, jabbing at the call button and hoping against hope that one of the cars was already on this floor.

No such luck. Because of fucking course.

The office door swung open, and an unfamiliar vampire stepped out of the temp agency’s lobby. Followed closely by at least two others. Even across the room, Tommy could feel the power rolling off them, the strength that only came from drinking witch blood. It appeared they had found Greenway’s killers.

The lead vampire, a tall white man with hair so pale his buzzcut almost made him look bald and the air of someone who had been used to violence long before he was turned, froze at the sight of them for a bare instant. Then his gaze sharpened, zeroing in on Evan. A nasty smirk twisted his lips.

“Well, well, well. Looks like this job just got even easier, boys. Someone brought our last loose end right to us, special delivery.”

[thatssonanii]

Chapter Ten

A/N: Two chapters in 24 hrs! Look at me! 😂😂 but enjoy! ⭐Comment, reblog & share!⭐

Warnings: Cursing, strong emotions ahead, typos, 18+ MINORS DNI!

Masterlist

Chapter Nine

Another three days passed with Zilla staying with Bronco. He would sneak to the apartment late at night to grab clothes when he knew Moriah was asleep. Watching her sleep gave him a dull ache in his heart for her. It wasn't fair that Nadine had made so many unjust decisions for them. There was nothing anybody could say to him that would make him ever forgive Nadine. Before he left the apartment, he made sure to fill her work cup with ice and put it in the freezer for her and put snacks in her purse because she always forgot. He was honestly surprised she didn't notice but then again she never did. 

Slipping back into Bronco's house, he tried to move as quietly as possible so he didn't wake Bronco's little brother. As he moved towards the living room he heard a soft squeal.

“Aye you good in here?” He called out as he walked through the doorway then quickly turned his back seeing Toni sitting top less in his friend's lap. “Oh shit, my bad, B.”

Bronco laughed wrapping the throw blanket around her. “You good, shoulda been in my room anyway. You got what you need?”

“Yeah, I got it. Nice to see you again, T.” He chuckled with his back still to them.

Toni hit her boyfriend, who was still laughing. “It's not funny, Bronco. Nice to see you too, Zilla. Where were you?”

“You really wanna know or you askin cause it's awkward?” 

“Both,” she laughed getting off Bronco's lap, “Answer please.”

He held up his bag for her to see. “Went to get clothes from the apartment.”

“So you saw Rye? Did everything go okay? Well of course it didn't if you're here.” Toni rambled on until Bronco moved to stand behind her and gripped her shoulders. “Huh? Sorry, I'm talking too much. I'm just worried.”

“Ain't no need to worry. He ain't wake her, she don't know he been there.”

Securing the throw blanket around her torso, Toni moved closer to the younger man and turned him around to face her. 

“It's been damn near a week, Zilla. How long are you gonna do this? She already thinks you hate her, this is not helping.”

“That's what I been tryna tell him,” Bronco added, making Zilla suck his teeth. 

“Fat know I don't hate her. I text her. We good, T.”

“That might work with Bronco but that does not work with me,” she fussed. “She doesn't know that because besides you texting her that you love her, you don't say anything else to her and you're not at home.”

He huffed shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Listen, I appreciate you being there for Fat and all that but we straight. I got it.”

“You got it? Yeah, okay. I understand that you're hurting and processing right now but you're literally doing exactly what her mom said you would do. You left her by herself, Zilla. She's alone every day and every night while you're here with your friend every night.”

Toni pushed past him, going to Bronco's bedroom careful not to slam the door. 

“Damn, she kinda feisty,” Bronco chuckled, “But you know she's right. You can't keep runnin, bruh. You gotta talk to her at some point. Good night, man.”

Getting back to the guest room, Zilla got situated for the night and responded to a few texts he had. Jon had invited him and Moriah to the house for a cookout, even though he told him no the first time Jon continued to ask until Zilla gave in. As they were talking a facetime call from Arthur came through. He debated on answering for a few moments before ultimately answering. 

“Damn you wasn't gon answer the phone?” 

“I was gettin in the bed. What's up?”

Arthur knew his little brother well. He could fool their other brothers and occasionally their mother but it was very rare that he could get past Arthur. 

“You tell me. What's going on with you?”

“Nun, wrestlemania season so it's busy.”

“Now that you got ya lie out ya system, let's try the truth, Isayah. You know whatever you tell me don't go no further.”

Zilla couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped him, it was dipped in sarcasm. “Oh trust me, I know you can keep a secret.”

Arthur's face scrunched up, giving his brother a confused look. “It's obviously something you wanna say so say it. Get it off ya chest.”

“Why you ain't tell me?” He asked after a minute. 

“Tell you what?”

“About Angel. You knew and ain't say shit.”

Arthur sighed, wiping his free hand down his face. “This ain't what you wanna hear but that wasn't my place to tell you, Isayah. It wasn't my business to tell. That was for Moriah to tell you.”

Zilla rolled his eyes. “Okay so why not tell her to tell me before?”

“Do you think she wanted to hold this shit in this long? No, she didn't. She wanted to tell you but she been terrified to tell you since the moment that test came back positive.”

“I hear you.”

“If you're acting this way with me then I can only imagine how you acting with her about this.” Arthur paused to gather his thoughts. “That's why y'all ain't been answering our calls. She told you and you lost your shit, didn't you?”

He sucked his teeth hard. “I ain't lose shit. She told me and I left.”

“The hell you mean you left? You left the room? That's what you better mean.”

“Left the apartment. I needed to get away from the whole thing before I took it out on her.”

“You got air then what?”

“That's it. I ain't been back since and before you start I'm not tryna hear shit about it.”

Arthur chuckled under his breath. “I don't care what you don't wanna hear. It's fine for you to want space after hearing that but running from it won't change it. You do know that, right?”

“I know that, Arthur.” 

“I know that look on your face so tryna say anything else to you is pointless right now so ima go. You call or text me when you wanna talk.”

Before Zilla could say anything else, Arthur disconnected the call. He could add another person to the list that felt his anger that didn't deserve it. The whole situation with Angel was eating at him, the person he wanted to take his anger out on was nowhere near and he wasn't calling her. Not yet at least. 

Zilla

12:45am

Remember u said if I ain't find 1, u would fine 1 fa me?

Aunt Kami

12:45am

Yup.

Zilla

12:46am

I ain't find 1

Aunt Kami

12:48am

Gotcha. I'll let you know when your appointment is.

Zilla

12:49am

Thank u. I owe u

Aunt Kami

12:50am

No you don't. Is everything okay?

Zilla stared at the text trying to figure out how he wanted to answer. He knew Moriah is the closest to her Aunt Kami and her Aunt Gabi but he wanted her to have control of how much she wanted them to know. 

Zilla

12:55am

Not really but ion wanna talk about it. 

Aunt Kami

12:56am

That's perfectly fine, Zilla. But if you do, you know I'm here. Go to sleep, love yall

Zilla

12:56am

Love you 2

Getting out of bed was hard for Moriah and going to work was even harder. Having to act like everything was okay especially in front of Thomas so he didn't raise suspicion to her mother was tiring. Zilla buying her a car made it a little easier since he hasn't picked her up from work since. Even though Thomas worked her nerves, the kids on the pediatric floor gave her a little joy.

Entering her five year old patient's room, Moriah got sanitizer and approached the bed with a smile. She greeted her parents softly then laughed seeing her patient faking sleep. 

“Nia's sleeping? I thought she was up.”

The mother smiled, her eyes crinkled in the corners. “Thought so too. Guess she fell asleep.”

“Well I guess I have to give this pop it game to my other patient then,” Moriah playfully started to walk backwards. 

Nia's eyes popped open followed by her giggles. She reached her hands out. “Noooo! I'm awake! I'm awake!”

Her parents and Moriah laughed along with her. She approached the bed again, taking the game from her pocket to give to the five year old. 

“The gopher game! You found it!”

“I did, I told you I would. I got you, girl.”

“Thank you! Thank you!”

Moriah started to check her vitals. “You're so welcome, friend. I talked to Dr. Harris and he told me that you can take it with you to pre-op while you wait.”

“Yes!” She squealed excitedly. 

“And when you come out of surgery, what would you like to eat?”

“Anything?”

Moriah winked at her. “Anything, friend.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs!”

“You're gonna turn into a meatball, Nia.” The dad joked. 

Moriah finished up and went to grab more sanitizer. “Spaghetti and meatballs it is, friend. Mom and Dad, Dr. Harris and another nurse will be in shortly to talk to you a little more about her surgery then take her to pre-op.”

The mother stood quickly. “Wait, aren't you going to surgery with her?”

“Well, no ma'am. I'm sorry.”

“Could you?” She asked, grabbing Moriah's hand. “Please. It would make us and her feel much better if you did. You've been so good to us the last few days, she just adores you.”

Moriah rolled the thought around in her head. “I'll check with the team and make sure it's okay. Alright?”

Leaving the room, Moriah walked around the floor looking for Dr. Harris. She found the slender, salt and pepper African American man engulfed in a conversation with Thomas. The sight of him repulsed her but she pushed it aside for her patient. 

“I'm sorry to interrupt, Dr. Harris. I wanted to run something by you about Nia Whitfield's surgery.” Her eyes shifted momentarily to Thomas. “In private.”

Dr. Harris smiled, he was always a jovial man. It's why the kids in the pediatric floor loved him. 

“Of course, Nurse DeBreaux. And it's okay if Gardner stays, he's going to be in surgery with me shadowing.”

It took every bit of willpower for Moriah not to roll her eyes at that. 

“Isn't that … great. Nia and her parents would feel more comfortable if I went into surgery with her. I know you had another nurse scheduled with you and I understand if we can't change it but I wanted to try.”

Dr. Harris waved his hand dismissively. “Never be fretful to ask to switch in my surgeries. I want my patients and families to be as comfortable as possible,” he explained. “If they want you then they got you. I'll meet you at her room in fifteen minutes.”

With that, he walked off towards his office she presumed leaving her with Thomas. He stepped closer, she took two steps back and held her hand out to stop him. 

“Stay out of my personal space, Thomas.”

“Our first surgery together. Aren't you excited, Moriah?” He asked, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Not at all. You need to focus on not messing up in there instead of on me.”

He shrugged. “It's just a hernia removal. Piece of cake. In and out in an hour tops.”

She rolled her eyes. 

“You heard what I said.”

“How's your boy? One of my patients had the show on last night, he's not bad.”

Moriah turned to walk away from him, mumbling to herself. Getting transferred back to the emergency department wasn't happening quick enough for her. Between the rift with her and Zilla and Thomas always in her face at work, she was more than tired. 

Hassan pulled up to the house he knew Tamera would be showing in the next couple of hours, parking discreetly behind hers. He grabbed the flowers he had gotten her before jumping out and heading for the porch. The door was open, he knocked on the door frame as he entered. He didn't have to wait long for Tamera to come out, her heels clicking against the impressive marble flooring. Her smile grew wider seeing Hassan.

“What are you doing here, Hassan?”

He gave her the flowers then kissed her cheek. “I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. Happy to see me?”

His heart swelled as he watched inhale the flower's scent excitedly. 

“Yes of course I'm happy to see you. But in the neighborhood, sir?” She laughed. “You live forty five minutes from here.”

He pulled her into a tight hug. “Not the point. You mentioned you didn't have flowers for the house today so here I am.”

“Thank you,” she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her through the house to the kitchen. “I'll put them in a case. They're very beautiful, Hassan.”

“Just like you.”

Their eyes met, her eyes flickered with a very familiar flame that Hassan acted like he didn't see. The flame in her eyes was the same flame that burned inside of him but he wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting into with him. Gabi and Moriah would say that he was stalling but he hadn't and didn't plan on asking them. 

“You are slicker than can of oil, Mr. DeBreaux.”

“And you, Ms. Jefferson, are sweeter than honey.”

Tamera checked her watch then glanced back at Hassan, a smile rose to his face again. 

“Two hours until your appointment, Tamera.”

She hummed, filling a vase with water. “Guess we better put those two hours to good use then.”

His phone rang interrupting their stare down. Seeing his ex-wife's name made him internally groan but he excused himself and stepped out of the sliding door to the backyard.

“How can I help you, Nadine?”

“Am I interrupting you or something? You sound irritated.”

He chuckled. “You know I don't enjoy talking to you, Didi. What is it?”

“Well that's rude, Hassan. I was just calling to check on Moriah. Apparently she's blocked my number.”

“You say that like it's a surprise. She meant it when she said she was done.”

Nadine scoffed into the phone. “Anyway, how's my baby? Have you talked to her today? I heard she's going into her first surgery today.”

Hassan took the phone away from his ear to stare at it for a moment. “No, I haven't talked to her today but she's fine. How the hell did you hear that?”

“I have my ways. Later on, you need to call and ask her about it. And tell her to call me, this is something we need to talk about.”

He took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. “I'm not telling her anything, she'll call if she wants. Whatever person you got keeping tabs on her at that hospital needs to stop.” He spat harshly. 

“If you think I'm gonna just stop looking out for my baby because she's upset with me right now then you're sadly mistaken,” Nadine fussed. “This isn't the first time, she'll get over it. She got over that damn baby, didn't she? Exactly so she'll be fine.”

“That damn baby was your grandson, Nadine! He was a part of you and you took his life! You took him, you traumatized our daughter, who is also a part of you and you act like it was nothing!”

“Oooh,” she cackled, “I struck a nerve if Hassan is yelling. Not cool, calm and collected Hassan getting out of character over that bastard baby.”

“You would stoop so low and hurt our daughter because you're pissed at me? You're pissed at me for something that didn't have to change anything about our lives, Nadine.”

Laughing, she mocked him, not bothering to give him an actual response.

“What if she would've hurt herself? What then?”

“Oh please that girl is weak but she's not that weak. She would never.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Because you know her so well, right? Nadine, stop trying to hurt my daughter. Leave her alone, let her be and let her live her life.”

“Your daughter?” She snorted. 

“Yes, my daughter.”

“Goodbye, Hassan.”

The urge to chuck his phone into the pool a few feet away from him was strong. Instead he stuffed it in his pocket and took slow, deep breaths to calm himself down. No one could make him as angry as his ex-wife and he hated it. Some would say it was because he was still in love with her and reached to be her but they didn't know him. He hated who his ex-wife became right before and after their divorce, he didn't know her. Feeling hands on his back, he jumped a little then relaxed remembering he was there with Tamera.

“Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to check on you. You looked stressed.”

He wiped a hand down his face. “I'm sorry about that, it was my ex-wife. I'm alright though.”

She gave him a small smile, taking his hands in hers.”You don't have to be sorry, I understand about exes. We can talk about it, if you want. Or not talk.”

“Not talking sounds good,” he smiled. 

Bronco and Zilla sat on the floor in front of one of the practice rings with a few of their peers listening to Booker and Regal talk to them.  Since their interaction after the run in with Thomas, Zilla and Booker hadn't said much to each other if it wasn't work related. 

“Getting TV time doesn't mean you stop practicing and working hard to get better,” Regal informed looking at each of them. “The goal is to stay on TV. Right?”

The group acknowledged him with an answer.

“So if you all know then why are we here right now?”

Silence. 

Booker ran a hand over his locs, stepping in to add his own thoughts. “It's great that yall go to promo class, it's great that you're getting TV time but what's not great is yall either half assing it during drills and practice or not showing up at all.”

Zilla honestly didn't understand why he had to be in this conversation. He went to practice, he went to class and he did his thing on TV. With everything he had in his plate, the lady thing he wanted or needed was to be chastised about something he wasn't doing. The whole time Booker spoke, he rolled his eyes and scrunched his face up which didn't go unnoticed by the older man. 

“Is there a problem, Zilla?”

He sucked his teeth. “Nah, mane. Go head.”

“You sure? Cause the eye rolling and facial expressions is telling me something different.”

Again, he sucked his teeth. “Man, go head. I ain't say nothing, did I?”

“This is something I need everybody to understand right now. Don't take me for no sucka, I don't disrespect any of you so don't disrespect me,” he moved closer to Zilla as he spoke until he was in front of him and snatched the younger man up from the floor, ripping his shirt in the process. “Cause if you wanna get disrespectful, I can show you how I handle disrespect. Is that understood?”

The two men stood nose to nose with no intentions of backing down. Zilla's chest puffed out from his heavy breathing, his jaw tight and his eyes burned. Booker maintained eye contact with him, seeing the tears in his eyes. Bronco watched the interaction wanting to step in but he knew it wasn't his place and he knew his friend needed it. 

“I asked a question. Is it understood?”

Zilla scrunched his face to keep his tears at bay and choked out a ‘yeah’. Booker turned him around and pushed him gently towards the door, letting Regal know they'd be back. He guided the younger man to his office, closing the door behind them, then went to sit on the corner of his desk as Zilla dropped into one of his chairs. 

“Let it out, man.”

Zilla choked back a sob, wiping angrily at his eyes. “I'm good.”

“You ain't. Ain't no way you are. I looked into your eyes, man. You're not good.” Booker said softly. 

“I am. My bad for what happened.”

“I accept your apology but man it's okay to not be okay. Is everything okay with you and Rye? Or is this about your dad?”

Pulling up the end of his now ripped shirt, Zilla wiped his face with it. He cried softly, unable to hold it in anymore. 

“Both,” he mumbled beneath the fabric of the shirt. “This shit is hard, man.”

“I know it's hard, I know it is but turning on the people trying to help you won't make it any easier, Isayah. Your people love you,” Booker explained, moving to kneel in front of the younger man. “Lean on the people that love you instead of leaning away. I know it's hard to be vulnerable but sometimes it's necessary. Alright?”

Zilla nodded, pulling the shirt from his face. “Aight.”

With a smile, Booker stood then pulled Zilla up and into a hug. “Go change your shirt and come back to practice. But understand I meant what I said, I'll put you right on your ass if you do that again.”

Zilla chuckled and agreed. 

They left the office going in opposite directions, Booker back to the practice rings and Zilla to the locker room to change shirts. On his way, he went ahead and pulled the ripped shirt off, stuffing part of it into the front of his doors, letting it hang. 

“Hey, Zilla!”

Not stopping his stride, Zilla threw his hand up at Gia. “What's up?”

She jogged a little to catch up with him. “Damn you walk fast. Why you in such a hurry?”

“Gotta get back to practice.”

“Your face is red,” she observed stepping in front of him to stop him, “Are you okay? You wanna talk?”

“I'm good, just hot,” he lied, wanting to get away from her. “Ain't nothin to talk about.”

“I feel like you're lying. You can talk to me, Zilla. I'm a good listener.” She smiled, rubbing her hand up and down his bare arm. 

He moved her hand off of him, placing it back at her side. “Like I said, I'm good and if I'm not, I talk to my lady or my mama.”

“That girl of yours must have you on a short leash,” she joked. “I mean I can't blame her, I'd wanna hold on to you too.”

He scrunched his face. “I ain't on a leash. I respect my lady and our relationship.”

“Sorry, sorry. I'm just saying every time I talk to you, she comes up. I know she's there, you don't have to worry I'm not gonna try anything. I can appreciate a good looking man and be respectful.”

Shaking his head, Zilla moved around her and went to the locker room. After he changed his shirt, he checked his phone to see if he had any notifications. 

Aunt Kami

9:33am

Saturday @ 10am. I'll send the location. You can take Rye if you want. 

Zilla smiled a little at the message. 

Zilla

1:15pm

My bad, been workin. Thank u, Auntie!!!!

He exited their thread then went into Moriah's. His smile grew a little wider. 

Moriah

11:30am

Just wanted to let you know that I'm going into my first surgery in 30 minutes! It's a short one, not more than a hour but I'm so nervous and excited! 

Zilla

1:20pm

I'M SO DAMN PROUD OF YOU, FAT!! I know u did amazing, baby. I love u

Zilla tucked his phone away and locked his things back up before he left the locker room. He opted to run back in order to avoid Gia, in case she was lurking around. 

After surgery, Moriah stayed with Nia long enough for her to wake up so she knew Moriah had been there the whole time. When her parents came in, she slipped out to go grab the food she had delivered for the young girl. She sat it up in Nia's room with Toni's help.

“You need to get your man to go on back home.”

Moriah chuckled softly. “If I could, I would, Toni. What happened?”

“He walked in on us last night. Interrupted my moment.”

Moriah laughed, taking a peek at her friend's face. “A moment that you swore wasn't gonna happen because yall are just friends?”

“That is not the point, ma'am. The point is, it was interrupted.”

“I got more than a I love you today so maybe he'll be back soon,” Moriah shrugged, putting the parents’ food to the side. “Tell me about it though. Did you finally get some? Cause if you did, I'm gonna need him to try again you still mean.”

Toni wadded up a napkin and threw it at her friend. “I am not mean. No, we didn't. After that lil run in, the mood was killed.”

“Damn, I'm sorry. Try again tonight, at your place.”

“We can't leave his brother by himself, Rye.”

Moriah thought for a moment. “He can spend the night with me. I could use the company and I'll take him to school on my way to work tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan. Two birds with one stone. I'll let Bronco know.”

Before Moriah left the hospital, she stopped by Nia's room to check on her and to let her know that she would see her in the morning. She stopped by the store to get something to cook for dinner and snacks for him before she went home. She texted Toni to let her know that they could drop him off whenever they were ready. 

A facetime call interrupted her music as she cooked. She answered it quickly, seeing Arthur's name. 

“My favorite!” She said excitedly. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doing?”

She propped her phone up so they could see each other while she cooked. “I'm alright, Art. How are you?”

“I'm okay. Worried about you though.”

She smiled briefly at him. “I'm okay, no need to worry about me.”

“If you lie to me, I can't help, Rye.”

Setting her tongs to the side, she leaned against the counter behind her and stared at the phone. 

“I'll be okay, Art. It'll be okay. I promise.”

“I talked to him. He told me you told him about Angel and he left. Why you didn't call me, manamea?”

She shrugged. “I didn't think he would be gone this long. I thought he would've come back the next day and when he didn't … I don't know. I just didn't wanna talk. He's so mad.”

“He's mad, he's hurt, he's angry but not with you. I don't know if he bit your head off but he tried to bite mine off,” Arthur chuckled, “But he knows it's misplaced anger. He knows.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, wiping her eyes. “It's been a week but he's texting back now at least.”

Arthur wished he could teach through the phone and hug her because he knew she needed one. This is what she had been terrified of all these years and it was happening. 

“What did he do when you told him?”

“He asked questions, he would barely look at me. He yelled at me but he apologized right after. I was frustrating him.”

“Frustrating him?”

“He asked me what happened to Angel and where he was and I was telling him that I didn't wanna tell him.”

Arthur sat quietly for a moment, he wanted to say that his little brother shouldn't have done that but given the situation and the emotions in that moment, he could understand it. 

“You weren't frustrating him, the situation was, Rye. Do you want me to come out there? I can clear my schedule for yall.”

She shook her head moving back to the stove. “No you don't gotta do that. We'll figure it out.”

“I hate this for yall but I'm proud of you for telling him, Rye. And I know you're glad you were able to tell him before Nadine did.”

The doorbell going off interrupted their conversation, she let him know that she would call him later and went to get the door. She smiled seeing Javier standing there with his bookbag and overnight bag. She hugged him then invited him in, she took his bags sitting them beside the sofa. 

“I'm so glad you're here Javi. Dinner is almost ready. You didn't eat yet, right?”

“No ma'am, my brother told me you were cooking. Thank you for having me.”

She cooed, going to pinch his cheeks. “Awwe, you're so polite. You can call me Rye, okay? You don't have to say ma'am, I'm not that old yet.”

He laughed going to sit on the sofa. Moriah went to close the door but was stopped by a hand. She panicked for a second then noticed the ‘630” tattoo and breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the door back for him. They locked eyes as he stepped inside, pushing the door closed with his hand. 

“Hi,” she greeted softly. 

He greeted her just as softly. “What's up, Fat?”

She wanted to hug him but she honestly didn't know if she should or could so she played with her fingers to keep from touching him. 

“I'm gonna go finish dinner.”

He nodded. “Ima shower real quick. You need anything before I get in?”

She shook her head. 

“You sure before I get in?”

She smiled a little at the familiarity. “I'm sure, Zay.”

Again, he nodded then turned his attention to Javier. “Aight, Javi, make sure she don't burn our food, man.”

The trio sat on the sofa eating dinner and watching one of the John Wick movies. Moriah sat between them, trying to ignore her boyfriend's eyes constantly staring a hole into the side of her face. He would look away long enough to take bites of his food and catch a scene or two but that was it. At least she knew he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him. When they were all done, Moriah took their dishes to the kitchen and cleaned up while Zilla showed Javier how the shower worked and set up his blanket and pillows on the sofa. He was done before Moriah so he went to lean against the breakfast bar to watch her. 

“How did the surgery go?”

She jumped and squealed, turning to face him. “Dammit, Zay. I forgot you were here.”

“My bad,” he chuckled. 

“It's alright. It went really good. It was a hernia removal on a 5 year old.”

He frowned. “How does a 5 year old get a hernia?”

“When their intestines bulge through the abdominal wall inside the belly button they can develop one.”

“That sound painful. How was it seeing it?”

Moriah smiled as she wiped down the counter. “It was really cool honestly. It was crazy to see how big it was. She was a trooper though.”

“Yeah? She went home today?”

“Uhn uhn. She'll be there two more days and she's excited about it cause she doesn't wanna leave me.”

He chucked. “I bet you love that.”

“A lil,” she laughed.

He let her finish her cleaning in silence, keeping his eyes on her. Javier came back out to the living room and got comfortable on the sofa, remote in hand. 

“You got your alarm set, Javi?”

“Yup, all set, Rye.”

“Your phone on the charger?”

He sat up to check it. “Yup, it's good. Can I watch TV?”

“Sure,” she smiled, “If you want a snack or drink, you're welcome to whatever is in the kitchen, Javi.”

He grinned at her before turning his attention to the TV. “Thank you.”

Zilla approached Moriah, speaking softly. “Can we talk outside, Fat?” When she agreed, he grabbed her hand. “We gon step outside for a few, Javi. Yell if you need us.”

They sat beside each other on the first step, shoulder to shoulder. The night breeze gently whipped around them. 

“First, let me apologize for walkin’ out like that and not lettin’ you know I was aight. No matter how upset I was, that wasn't right.”

“I accept your apology, Zay.”

“Second, I don't hate you and I'm not mad at you so get that thought out your head. You my Fat and I love you.”

She nodded, blinking a few tears out. “I love you too.”

“I can't imagine how scared you was that whole time and the pain that must've caused. You needed me and I wasn't there, I'm sorry, Moriah.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, crying softly. She wanted to tell him that he didn't need to apologize but she needed to hear that. 

“Thank you for apologizing. I gotta be honest, a part of the reason I was so mad at you and refused to come see you was because of Angel.” She admitted softly. “I knew that my mom would've probably still did what she did if you weren't locked up but I wanted you there. I needed you, Angel needed you and you left us.”

His face scrunched as he tried and failed to keep his tears at bay. They betrayed him, slipping from his eyes in rapid succession. He moved the arm she laid on, wrapping it around her and pulling her closer to him. 

“I regret not being there for you and him, it's something ima spend the rest of my life tryna make up for. I appreciate you been honest with me, Fat. I gotta be honest with you too.”

“I'm listening.”

“I love you and I don't wanna lose you but if you let your mom back in your life, I can't promise that ima stay. My love for you is the only thing keepin me from doin anything to her. I can't have her in my life, Moriah.” He spoke honestly. “She took our baby from us and probably any possibility of having another. She took what would've been a piece of my pops from me and my family. Do you get that?”

“I got it, Zay. I do.”

“That's the only thing I'm asking of you. Keep her out of our lives. She don't want shit but to tear us down and tear us apart. You got me, my family, your dad and the rest of your family … you don't need shit from her.”

“I'm done with her. She's not coming back unless you and I decide that she can. I've washed my hands of her. I promise.”

Nodding, he put his finger under her chin tilting her head back. He wiped the lingering tears from her face then kissed her softly. 

“I love you, aight?”

“Aight,” she giggled softly. “I love you more.”

“Damn I missed you.”

“Not as much as I missed you, big head.”

“Two more things though.”

She raised a brow waiting for him to finish. 

“We changing your number tomorrow.”

“Okay, second thing?”

“Since Zilla can't get you pregnant right now, can Zilla throw his condoms out?” He laughed. 

“Boy,” she laughed, “They're tied not burnt but I guess you can throw them out.”

“What that mean?”

“It means that there's a small chance that I can get pregnant but very small. And if we want I can reverse the procedure but it's not guaranteed to work.”

Zilla pecked her lips a few times making her giggle. “Well guess we gon find out how small that chance is.”

[ultfreakme]

Nia, Jay, Jon and the 'Last Straw': Quick Analysis

So Absolute Power #2 dropped, and we get to see Nia(Dreamer) rebel fully against Waller regardless of the consequences to herself or her family. Her breaking point is watching a brainwashed and tortured Jon being forced to attack his father.

This is great! This has been a long-time coming for Nia. But this isn't a moment of triumph per se for her. This is not the first time she's seen a friend of hers suffer because she couldn't break away from Waller. Her first time witnessing something like this was with Jay.

Jay got hurt, she lets it happen, she explicitly betrays Jay and admits to her complicity in Gamorra's takeover by Waller, and in his mother's death.

Jon also got hurt, she seems to have let it happen, she's once again aware of her role in this and was about to be indirectly responsible for Jon's father dying.

But why was Jon her breaking point, but not Jay? What was the difference?

This was her reaction to seeing Jon hurt:

But this was her reaction to Jay being hurt

Nia's been put into a terrible situation where she has to choose between her friends and her family. I am not saying she should've let her family die for Jay, but in terms of scale, Jay kind nailed it on the head with Nia prioritizing certain kinds of people over others. She is not intentionally doing this, but this is a thing she does and the theme is brought up in Bad Dream(the Nia Graphic Novel). Her mother and other Naltorians prioritized Naltorians over Cyandiis which led to the large-scale destruction of Cyandii.

Nia has now chosen her people (her family and Parthas), over Gamorra. She continues to choose her people (the hero community), over anything else. No matter how you spin it, Gamorran lives and Jay's imprisonment was not enough of a personal affectation for her to go "no fuck this."

WHICH IS BAD.

Because yes she did the right thing as a hero but the mentality that led to Dream Team's end and Gamorra's takeover is still very much present. This is really good character writing to me, because unlike say Jon or Jay or any of the other heroes, Nia became Dreamer in an effort to connect with her past and the trauma of her mother's death. She wanted to be a hero, but her priorities were in understanding her newfound powers.

She had no guidance, she did not witness the kinds of decisions a hero will have to take. Superman isn't always winning because he's just objectively powerful, he's Superman because he's selfless (to the detriment of his loved ones at times). It's a hard job, you have to put aside your very normal attachments and be willing to sacrifice. It's why not everyone is cut out to be a hero, it's a HUGE ask to say someone should go "yeah I'll give up my family if it means saving the planet". Practically at every turn, a superhero runs into the trolley problem. Many time, they can save both, but there are times when they have to pick and choose, and hope to god that things will work out well.

Nia made a typical hero decision in AP #2, a decision many a hero has to make when she chose to sacrifice her family and herself, to stop working for Waller.

But will she examine why Jon and Clark were her breaking point, but not Jay and all of Gamorra? She's a hero, but is she falling into the old Naltorian cycle?

Additionally, I don't think Jon is going to be particularly pleased to know that Nia stopped because she saw Jon, but not when she just stood there and let Jay get shot. That is, after all, his boyfriend whom he saved Gamorra with. Like Nia wrecked everything about Jay, and also ruined Jon's first mission as Superman and wasted all his efforts and turmoils. Jon is the type to let himself take the brunt of everything because of his fear of himself- he saw the things Clark put them through. If say, Waller got Jon instead of Nia with the "I'll kill your family if you don't obey" thing, he'd have immediately gone "no, they wouldn't want that, in fact they'd be disappointed if I picked them over a whole country". Jon's already got that hero mentality, and frankly so does Jay (he had no idea of Sara was alive, but he did not search for her because he knew to prioritize at great personal cost. He was even willing to let himself die when fighting Sara).

Like, this just makes Nia even more unforgivable in Jay's eyes because Jon-Jay-Nia were all friends for the same amount of time, they SHOULD hold the same value to each other. But now it looks like Nia has a ranking order.

This is not Nia hate please PLEASE don't take this as Nia hate. She's just.....so utterly human here. Like this is what would happen if a regular person with no support tried to be a hero. Her actions are understandable, but that doesn't mean other characters need to forgive her for it when her learning curve led to so much pain for others.

[bellysoupset]

Okay, if you have time, how about Leo with some little, minor sickness (maybe even a surprise continuation of what happened on the plane), and he FaceTimes Jonah, and it's the middle of the night in Europe but Jon stays up and comforts Leo. Bonus points if Leo takes the phone into the bathroom to puke and it "surprise" triggers Jon's sympathy sickness? Or he's just feeling lousy himself from the illness you just wrote about, so he and Leo end up comforting each other? Fluff fluff fluff. Thank you! I'm crawling through my next fic and the speed at which you write is envy-inducing. (But I crave the content, lol)

This is a tiny bit different than you asked for, but I hope it's alright Lis!

---------------------------

Sick Jonah at Switzerland - Pt. 2

"I am fine, mum," Jonah groaned, all but tugging at the roots of his hair. The elation at having his mother (and sister! and stepdad!) fussing over him had faded quickly and he was ready for this to be over. It was just a mild flu, he wasn't dying.

Jackie threw him an unimpressed glare, continuing to fluff the blankets around him despite Jon claiming he was feeling warm and didn't need 5 blankets in the middle of Switzerland summer, "now stay put and don't kick it off, the fever will break in no time."

"Yeah, bet," Jonah rolled his eyes, more than a little grouchy and he didn't miss the way Jackie pressed her lips in a thin line, clearly finding humor in the situation.

"You used to climb in our bed when you were sick," Jackie whispered, crouching down next to him in order to stroke his hair, "not looking for us, no, just like our bed was more comfy than yours."

Jonah's cheeks burned and he curled on his side, fever frying at his nerves, "I don't remember that."

"You were too little," she shrugged, curling a tightly coiled curl around pinky, "you were the sweetest kid, darling."

"Now you're just straight up lying," Jonah sighed, closing his eyes under the hair pet. He was enjoying it, despite all the bitching he was doing. The biggest problem was the soup Angie had brought over an hour ago, that was sitting in his belly like a brick, causing him to feel overheated and clammy with nausea. He was thankful him and his mother weren't close enough she could read that in his face.

"No, I'm not," Jackie stroked his cheek softly, "aside from a weird fixation on operating in the animals you found in the yard, you were a sweetheart."

Jonah let out a surprised snort at that, opening his eyes, "what?"

"You'd drag dead pigeons and all sorts of rodents inside to operate on them, a horrible macabre thing," Jackie wrinkled her nose in distaste, "Jasper thought it was cute, of course."

"Of course," Jonah couldn't help but grin. If there was one thing him and his father were in the same page about was their love for medicine, "it must've driven you crazy."

Jackie raised her eyebrows in an amused way, although there was a flash of sadness in her eyes that Jon couldn't help but wonder was regret. He knew, now, that his mom had struggled with motherhood and her marriage through all of his childhood. It was water under a bridge nowadays, but she probably missed those days now that she could properly appreciate them.

No point crying over spilt milk and Jackie shook her head as if to disperse the memories, leaning in to plant a kiss on his brow, "I'll come check in on you in a bit."

"Please just let me sleep," Jonah groaned, "no more checking in."

Uninterested in his complaints, she waved him off and walked out of the room, leaving the door half shut. Jon waited until he heard her footsteps disappearing down the hall before kicking off his blankets and sitting up on the bed, reaching for his phone in the bedside table's drawer, which had been confiscated five hours before.

One missed call from Leo, only an hour before. A bazillion texts.

He made the math, if it was nearly ten PM for them, it was... four o'clock for Leo? Three?

Whatever, Jonah hit the return call button.

It rang and rang and for a minute Jon though Leo wouldn't pick up, but then the call connected and his fiance's chirpy voice drifted through, "oh look who remembered he's got a whole husband waiting for him!"

Jonah opened a small smile at the man's sardonic tone, "sorry, I-" am sick and held hostage by my mom who's living her missing moments with me? "got tied up here. How are you?"

"I'm great, now," Leo's voice was almost a whole note higher than his normal tone, excitement clear, "missing you like crazy. Luke and Bell tried to kidnap JD, can you beli-"

"Now? Why now?" Jon interrupted, frowning and fanning himself when the queasy sensation got worse. He moved the phone slightly, in order to burp soundlessly in his mouth and blow it away.

"Oh I got some disgusting food poisoning in San Francisco, I never wanna see a cookie again," Leo groaned, "Thank God I asked Luke to pick me up in Portland, because there was no way I'd have made it home puking-"

Jonah's stomach flipped just at the thought and he grimaced, squeezing his eyes closed when a particularly nauseating cramp gnawed at his side.

He opened his mouth in order to change the subject, but what came out was a gross, wet burp and Jon cringed, pulling the phone away quickly, "shit, sorry- I'm-" another gurgle crawled up his throat, but he swallowed it down, "sorry."

Leo's surprised chuckle died down, "it's alright baby, it's not as if I haven't heard you burp a million times before..." his good mood was contagious and Jonah opened a small smile, despite the horrible sensation of the soup churning in his gut.

"Uhm you were saying they-"

"Yeah, I puked all the way from Portland to here and then spent the night in the bathroom floor with Luke, quite the bonding experience," Leo scoffed.

"I'm sorry, that's horrible," Jon said diplomatically, feeling proud of himself for sounding so normal when his mouth was starting to water with nausea.

"It's fine, I got to cuddle Luke aaaall night, he's very comfy I'll have you know-" Leo's tone was teasing, purposefully trying to get a rouse out of Jonah and it wouldn't have worked so well if Jon wasn't feeling like absolute crap. He scowled at his blankets.

"That's great, Wagner," Jonah said bitterly, "you like him so much keep him."

Leo's giggle drifted through the line, "you're too easy, angel," he said lightheartedly, "hey, can you facetime? I miss your face..."

"Uhm, now isn't really a good time-"

"Why?" He could hear Leo's frown and Jonah rubbed at his chest, feeling his stomach burn. He swallowed another burp that tried to sneak up.

"I'm not- Leo, hold on-" Jonah groaned, dropping the phone in the mattress and planting a hand tightly over his lips, trying to fight the urge to gag. His eyes prickled with tears, not out of sadness, but nausea. He let out another wet belch, knowing that if he didn't, there was no way the urge to retch was gonna pass.

As soon as he went to grab the phone again, the call turned into a facetime request and Jon grimaced, "Leo, not now-"

"Pick up," no longer there was any humor in Leo's voice, "you sound weird."

"I swear if you start your jealousy-"

"No, you sound off. Pick up, Jonah, I wanna look at you," not anger, concern, Jonah realized. He let out a sigh and clicked the camera icon, trying to force a nonchalant smile.

"Hey-"

"You're grey," Leo glared at him and Jonah cringed. He didn't know why he even thought he could hide anything from the man.

"I'm not feeling too hot," Jonah admitted quietly and Leo's eyes widened, as if he hadn't already put that together.

"What's wrong? Is it a vertigo episode? You got meds in your carry on, but I packed extra in your toiletry bag-"

"No," Jon shook his head, giving up on trying to seem collected and dropping the phone in the opposite pillow to his, curling back into his spot, "it's some flu. I got a fever and my throat is a little scratchy."

"And you're nauseous," Leo completed what he didn't say and Jonah shrugged.

"I'm not, but they forced me to have soup-" just the thought of it had him flinching and Jon shuddered, unable to finish his thought.

Leo grimaced in sympathy, "and it's not sitting well," he completed, "angel, just puke it up, no point fighting the nausea for hours."

"I can fight it," Jonah frowned, rolling in the bed so he could open his hand over his stomach, pressing softly, "I just need a minute."

"Okay..." Leo didn't sound convinced, "do you wanna see JD?"

Happy to have his thoughts occupied by anything other than his body, Jonah nodded, propping his cheek on his hand, elbow in the mattress, in order to look at his phone.

Only then he fully took in Leo, who was wearing a tank top and sweatpants, hair a mess, clearly he had been exercising judging by the sweat marks on his wifebeater and the way his face was all flushed.

"You're looking hot," Jonah pouted, causing Leo to blush further.

"I'm looking like I really need a shower," the blonde corrected him, taking the camera with him as he hunted JD down in their apartment. Even though Leo was holding it quite steady, Jonah quickly shut his eyes when motion sickness started to add to his nausea.

"Here, baby, c'mere-" Leo said in a sweet voice, then in a more concerned one, "Jon, you should go sit in the bathroom, you're really not looking well."

"Don't-" He shook his head, "don't want-"

"Jonah," Leo sighed, frustrated, "take the phone with you, I'll keep you company."

"Gross," Jonah scowled and Leo shrugged.

"You rather go sit there alone? It's okay if you do, we can talk another time," he said, as if he didn't know Jon really didn't want to go sit alone either.

Jon let out a groan, then his stomach rolled once again and he decided to get up before he ended up puking all over his lap. He grabbed the phone, then curled up on the floor, in front of the toilet, propping his cell against a wall.

"Happy?"

"Jumping with happiness," Leo answered in an equally sharp tone, "I'm really sorry you're feeling crappy during your vacations, baby."

Jon hummed in agreement, leaning forward and staring at the water. He felt so warm, there was a horrible sickly taste at the base of his throat. He tried to clench his belly, in order to speed things up, but all that came up was some frothy saliva.

"Bloody hell," he groaned and heard a meow agreeing with him. Jonah draped an arm over the toilet seat, resting his cheek on his forearm in order to look at the small device on the floor.

JD was headbutting the screen, while Leo said softly, "no, baby, I wanna talk with Jon, don't eat the camera. Stop, bad kitty."

Jonah's heart squeezed and he blamed the fever for the way his eyes stung. He turned his head in order to gag fruitlessly over the bowl once more.

"Do any of them know you're sick? I know you said they fed you soup, but is that an european thing or-"

Jonah groaned loudly, pressing his stomach to the rim of the toilet at the mention of the soup he was trying to forget about. His mouth flooded with saliva and he spat it, only to trigger a gagging fit, that quickly turned into a loud burpy-retch and a splash of sickening sweet soup fell into the toilet.

He gasped for air, trying to gulp it down, but the mere attempt at breathing triggered another retch and Jonah let out a choked noise, slumping over the toilet as a huge gush of vomit erupted.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, feeling more than a little humiliated, working up a sickly burp and a tendril of cloudy spit.

"Shit, Jon," Leo's voice pierced through his nausea induced fog, "babe, I'm serious, do Jackie or Angie know you're sick? I don't want you getting dehydrated-"

"I'm fine," Jonah rasped out, wiping at his mouth and clumsily reaching for the toilet paper. He squeezed his eyes shut in order to press the flush, the glimpse of the half digested soup enough to make his stomach turn and another sickly belch to roll out, "they know I'm sick."

"Are they taking good care of you?"

Jonah slumped to the ground, then smiled, exhausted, as he saw Leo had brought the phone ridiculously close, so his face was occupying the whole screen. He looked terribly worried.

"They are..." he curled up, pressing his forehead to the ground tiles, the cooling sensation a balm against his skin, "not as good as you, though."

"Quit being cute with me, you're dying," Leo said sharply, "how's your tummy? Do you feel better?"

"A bit," Jonah sighed, closing his eyes, "the cold ground is nice."

"I'm calling Jackie."

"Nooo," Jon groaned, exhausted and sleepy now that the nausea had reduced considerably, but not vanished, "no, just... Just keep talking. I like your voice."

"You sound delirious," Leo groaned, "really, how high is the fever?"

"Shhhh," he frowned, waving dizzily at the phone to shut Leo up, "what were you doing before I called? You're all pink."

"I went to the building's gym," Leo answered him, concern still clear in his voice, "don't you think your bed would be more comfy than the cold floor, angel?"

Jonah let out a huff, "I'll move in a bit...", he yawned, "why do you call me that?"

"Angel?" Leo questioned and then heard a little affirmative noise, "ah. Well, because you are... Your literal job is saving people's lives," the embarrassment was clear and Jon forced his eyes open just so he could see his fiancé's red face.

"That's an exaggeration, I'm a resident doctor."

"You're the love of my life and an angel, now get the fuck up and go to bed," Leo said sharply, causing Jonah to laugh heartedly. He regretted it when his sore stomach cramped, clutching his belly.

"Okay, okay, you're worse than my mum," Jon sighed, forcing himself to sit up, his head swam at the change of positions, "just give me a minute."

"One, two, three-" Leo started to count, bitchy as ever and Jonah hung his head, concealing a smile.

"You're such a little shit."

[raya-hunter01]

Lights, Camera, Action! Pt. 7

Lights, Camera, Action!

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Shantell)

Roman x Black Female OC! Tangela

Solo x Black Female OC! Sofia

Jimmy x Trin

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; oral, sex, fluff, defloration (Virginity) masturbation

Words:

Summary: How do you keep it together as Smackdown’s production director and navigate your life as the girlfriend of Mr. Main Event Jey Uso.  Follow Shantell as she navigates her life as a girlfriend, sister, and confidant to the bloodline. Follow her on her journey to self-discovery of love and happiness.

------

Dinner Aftermath

Shantell's POV

The car ride was tense and quiet as the radio playing was the only sound being heard in the car. I knew my mama was about to bust and she didn't disappoint.

“Joshua, I love you son, but tonight I was bout to get wit yo mama,” my mom said as we were returning to my house. “I’m so sorry all this happened, she will come around," Jey said turning the radio down so they could talk.

I took a deep breath leaning my head against the window. "I know she ain't gon' keep talking to Shantell like she's crazy," she said popping her knuckles.

I felt him take my hand, gently interlocking our fingers, bringing my hand to his lips “I’m gon’ fix it, baby, I promise,” he whispered as I could feel the tears about to start coming. Damn, these hormones.

 “I’ve decided to move back out here, I need to be here for you and the baby. You can’t do this by yourself especially when everyone Is on the road,” my mother stated reaching up rubbing my shoulders.

“Mama, you said you were going to be here with us the first six weeks, that’s enough. I can’t have you moving your life for me,” I said just tired of even thinking about the situation.

“My grandbaby is going to have at least one dependable grandparent, and I’m not leaving you in a position to be beggin' that woman for a damn thing,” my mother says as Jey squeezes my hand a little tighter.

“I’m going to be with Shantell, I’ve already talked to Paul, and he’s approved me for two months off when we have the baby. Then we’re coming back on the road with the baby,” Jey says reassuring my mom.

“I’m going to work from home, they are in the process of setting it up, we got it covered mama,” I said closing my eyes, feeling tired.  “Everyone is going to help Mrs. Johnson, when I told you I would take care of your daughter I meant it,” Jey says honestly turning to glance back at my mother as we were stopped at a red light.  “So, you just thinkin’ of everything, huh,” she says smiling.

“Yea, ma, I’m tryin’ and you might as well get used to that name now since you gon’ be my mother-in-law one day,” he says smiling as she winks at him.  “You just seem so sure with these predictions Mr. Fatu,” I said cracking a smile as he laughed.

“It’s not a prediction, that’s a spoiler baby.  You stuck wit me now,” he says rubbing my stomach as we continued the journey back to my house.

----------------------

Jon and Trin’s House

Jon’s POV

“Trin, come on baby, I don’t think she meant it like that,” I said opening the door for her trying to defuse the situation.

“Oh, yes hell she did, she can’t stand me, Shantell or Sofia,” Trin said putting her purse down on the counter.  “Well if it’s true, she’s out of luck because I’m never letting you go,” I responded engulfing her in a strong hug.  “Jurdy,” she starts as I cut her off with a kiss.

 “Go shower and we’ll talk later, you got a big day tomorrow,” I said trying to bring the focus back to her upcoming TNA knockouts championship match tomorrow. “Ok, baby,” she said kissing me before heading upstairs. I made myself comfortable as I waited for her to return.

I refuse to let my mother ruin this for me or any of my brothers. Tonight, was above and beyond disrespectful, I was just in shock and wished I would have stood up for Trin and the girls.

-------------------------

Las Vegas, Nevada

TNA Slammiversary

“Did your mom leave this morning,” Tamina asks as we settled in our seats. “Girl, yes! It was a long ass week and the barbecue at Joe’s was horrible,” I whispered looking at Jey as he was pulling his hat down over his eyes, trying to not draw attention to himself.

Jimmy was backstage with Trin trying to calm her down before her championship match. Even though Trin has almost two months left at TNA we wanted to show up and support her.

“You ok, baby?” Jey asks grabbing my hand as I looked down at him.  “I’m good just ready to see the show, I hope Trin wins,” I said excitedly.  He smiled leaning over to kiss me. “Hey, somebody could see us,” I whisper as he takes me in demanding kiss.

“I don’t give a shit, you my lady,” he said placing his hand on my stomach. “Trin is up next ya’ll,” Jimmy says taking his seat next to Jey as Tamina and I stood up to wait on her entrance.

Never had I felt more pride than watching my friend do what she loves. Tamina and I stayed standing for the majority of the match cheering her on.

 “Starstruck! Let’s go, baby!” Jimmy yells jumping to his feet. “She tapped," I yelled jumping up and down as Jey pulled me into his arms so I wouldn’t lose my balance.  “Watch it woman, don’t shake my baby loose in there,” he whispers in my ear smiling as rolled my eyes at him.

“A’ight keep rollin’ them eyes, just wait till I get you alone,” he growls nipping my ear as I involuntarily shivered at the thought. The announcer’s voice brought me back to the moment at hand. “Ladies and gentlemen here is your winner and new Knockouts world champion Trinity!!”

“That's what I'm talking about!!” Tamina screamed as we hugged celebrating. Yes, tonight was a great night!

-----

Las Vegas, NV

Luxor Hotel

Shantell's POV

Liked by @jonathanfatu @saronasnukewwe @romanreigns @trinity_fatu @Shantell_productionswwe and 88,456 others.

Uceyjucey I took this without permission, but it’s nothing like family being there for family. I love all ya’ll! Congrats sis, first rounds on me next time we all link up!

“Aww. I didn’t know you took this,” I said looking at the photo of Tamina and I cheering Trin on. Then a separate one of Jimmy who wore a smile so bright I couldn’t help but smile myself looking at it.

“See you never know what I’m up to,” Jey says pulling me closer to him in bed as I laughed.  “Yea, and you ain’t fooling these folks,” I said looking at the comments.

"@samanthairvinwwe Congrats Trin!  Hey, you tagged Shantell, are we finally coming out as a couple Mr. Uso. I need answers!"

"@Usolover90901 I love how they are all so close and support each other. Are you and Shantell dating?"

"@natbynature Yes! Congrats Trin! Good Job convincing my Shanna Banana to go out and have some fun.  Love ya’ll, see you at Smackdown."

"@Trinity_Fatu- Brother!!! I love ya’ll too!  Shan’s going to kill you. HAHA"

“I don’t care who knows it, people always suspected anyway.  If you ain’t comfortable with putting it out there, I understand and will take the post down. We can’t hide forever though,” he says laying his head on my stomach.

My privacy is important to me, but he’s right why can’t we share how happy we were. I took a photo of Jey lying on my stomach.

Shantell_productionswwe I’m so happy. Yep, that’s the post,” I typed attaching the picture and a group photo we took earlier after Trin’s title win tagging everyone in it.

Looking at his phone, I see him smiling against my stomach reading the post.

"@ Uceyjucey "I'm your man, you're my girl, I'm gonna tell it to the whole wide world-Usher."

“Not Usher!” I laugh as he’s now laying on his stomach, between my legs caressing them slowly. “Yea, I hit yo ass wit that Usher cause it’s true, ain’t it? he questions his deep voice clouding my ears making me shiver as his primal stare is making me even weaker.

 “What are you doin’? “I ask losing my train of thought as without warning, he gently lapped his tongue against my clit. “Is it true, are you my girl?” he asks moaning against my pussy before attacking my clit again with his tongue.

“Yes, Jey!” I exclaimed, grabbing his head and gently pulling his hair. “I told yo ass I was gon’ get you bout rollin’ dem eyes. Now when I have you like this, what’s my name baby?” he groans grabbing my hips, gently bringing me closer to his mouth.

Jey’s POV

"Mmmm, Josh,” I hear her gasp in pleasure as I feel my heart dancing in my chest. My name sounds so good falling from her lips in pleasure as I take her.  I love her this way, gasping, arching her back in pleasure.  Slowly licking my tongue up and down her clit, swirling my tongue and sucking on the even more sensitive area now since her pregnancy.

“Yea, yo ass bout to roll dem eyes all night, screaming from me makin’ you cum over and over again,” I proclaim slowly teasing her knowing I’m driving her wild.

“Mmm, then eat your pussy baby,” she encourages as I smile against her, gently putting a hand on her stomach pushing her back on the bed. “Now, what else you can call me?” I moan swirling my tongue around her clit before taking it in my mouth, sucking it slowing making love to her with my mouth.

“Daddy!” her strained voice finally says as I’m overloading her senses. “Mmhmm, good girl. You taste so good, Daddy gon’ stay down here all night. Can I stay?” I groan feeling her juices all over my mouth and beard.

“You can stay Daddy, you can stay as long as you like,” she cried as I put her legs over my shoulders going deeper. 

I feel her hands grabbing my head pushing me even closer. “I’m so close Daddy,” she moans slowly moving her hips with my tongue. “I know baby, I know every inch of you,” I groan speeding up my movements holding her in place as I devoured her.

“Oh, God! Josh I ….” She trailed off and began to quiver gripping my hair tight as she rode her orgasm.

“Mmmm, give it all to me, I mean all of it,” I demand, moaning feeling her essence almost overpower my mouth and I welcomed it all.  “Fuck!” She screamed as I began sucking on her clit bringing on an even stronger orgasm. Yea, I meant that shit, I’m gon’ be down here all night pleasing her.

Humming as she gave it all to me and more closing my eyes, savoring her taste.  Finally looking up I see her eyes closed as she’s trying to calm herself caressing my face as I kissed her hands.

“You might as well hang on, 'cause I’m gon'  be down here all night, making you cum. I meant that shit Shantell.” I growled as her eyes shot open, looking down at me shivering at the thought as I smirked against her thigh, nibbling on it before throwing her a wink. Yea, it was gonna be a long night for her.

-----------

Jon and Trin’s Hotel Room

Trin’s POV

“Yea, you ridin’ this dick like a champ,” Jimmy groans slapping my ass as I flipped my hair over my shoulder bouncing fast on his dick. “Shit, you feel so good,” I moaned looking down at him as he seems to be in deep concentration trying to not let go.

“You look and feel so good,” he moans running his fingers across the knockout championship belt that was strapped around my waist as I leaned down taking him in an eager kiss, never wavering.

“You like the champ ridin’ this dick, don’t you? She gon’ ride you real good baby” I professed nibbling on his neck, feeling him pull me closer. “Fuck yea, talk yo shit then, champ,” he groans as I feasted on his neck.  His primal growls against my ear making me even wetter.

Leaning back on my knees I placed one hand around his neck. Gently squeezing his throat, I feel him meeting my thrusts eagerly as I slightly tightened my grip, then released him. The look of pleasure on his face as I swirled and bounced hard on his hard dick was bringing out a different side of me.

I felt powerful, and he was at my mercy.  “You like that? You want me to control you?” I hiss as he thrusts hard, hits my spot as I bite my lip. His eyes animalistic as his hands grip my hips.

Jimmy’s POV

“Yea, oh fuck!  Come on girl.  Choke my fuckin’ ass, punish me,” I growl feeling her tighten her hand around my neck while using the other as leverage to bounce harder on my dick. “That title looks so good on you, girl,” I moan looking at the look of pleasure on her face as she is biting her lip chasing her orgasm.

“Thank you, Daddy, I wanted to wear it for you,” she groans swirling her hips harder. I feel her hand tighten around my throat as I groan trying to catch my breath. “You gon’ cum for the champ?” she moans never breaking her thrusts, leaning down taking my mouth in a kiss before biting my lip.

“Shit! Here it go, just for yo ass,”I growled wrapping my arms around her tighter helping her bounce on my dick. Her movements desperate as now both of her hands are around my neck as she slides up and down on my dick.

“Trin! Fuck baby,” I groaned cummin’ hard. “Jurdy, yes! I love you! She screamed against my mouth squirting on my dick as she collapses against me releasing my throat.   I don’t think either one of us knew what to make of what just transpired.

“Shit, not that I’m complaining, but what brought that on baby?” I panted trying to catch my breath as she’s sucking on my neck. “Alright now, you wake him back up, you betta be able to handle that shit,” I moan excited at the thought of taking her again.

“Mmmm, I don’t know what came over me. Maybe you just brought out the animal in me, Jurdy,” she moans kissing me. “Shit, well I need to do it more often, “I moan holding her close.

------------------------------------

State Farm Area, Atlanta, Ga

Smackdown

“Camera eight catch Roman, he’s about to hit the ring,” I say observing him getting up. “I see him, Shan,” Greg says as I see Roman charging the ring. Shit, I think he’s moving too fast. “Damn Roman just slipped, cut to camera five,” I command.  

“Spear! Spear to Roman!” Cole screams. “I think that covered it well,” I mumbled looking at the other monitors trying to pace my shots. You had to be looking really hard, but Roman recovered well.  Now he and Solo are taking it to Jey.

“Go to camera three, pace between the hard camera and camera four. It looks like they are going to hit another spear spike,” I instructed looking at Roman’s expression as the crowd chanted “You got pinned.” I wince as Jey falls backwards laying limp on the ground. One leg on the ropes looking almost like he’s broken in half.

 “Jeez, they are going to give me a heart attack, “I mumble as Paul laughs patting my leg. “He will be ok, Shan,” he says looking at the monitor.

“Jey is getting the Jimmy Uso treatment one week before the biggest match of his career,” Wade says as his deep voice drowns out Cole who seems stunned. “Ok, Roman is on the ropes, let’s finish on camera two and we are out in 5,4,3,2,1,” I said releasing the breath I had been holding.

 It’s been a rough day with nausea and some cramping, but I didn’t want to alarm Jey. Taking my headset off Paul rubs my back. “We got it Shan, go relax,” he says as I shake my head no. “Uh, go your face is turning green as we speak,” he cringes as I laugh. “I got you, go,” he says as I give him a hug and left Gorilla.

I went and laid down in my office as I rubbed my stomach. “Come on baby, give mama a break. I know it’s been a lot of stress, but please calm down,” I whined feeling my cramps increasing in strength. I started to doze when I felt a cool cloth on my head. “You, ok?” I heard the familiar voice of Montez ask as I nodded.

“I saw you looking kind of green earlier,” he said as the room was spinning all I could do was moan keeping my eyes closed. “Well just nap, and I’ll let Jey know where to find you,” he said running his fingers through my hair.

“You don’t have to do that.  Paul, I’m sure is going to tell him,” I said not wanting to hurt his feelings. “I could wait with you,” he says, adjusting the cloth as I cut him off. “I’m good, I don’t need you or Jey getting the wrong idea,” I whispered feeling him rubbing my shoulders.

“I wouldn’t and I don’t care about Jey’s ego, we’re friends,” he says as I sit up trying to put some distance between us not wanting to get caught up in any drama.

“Look, thank you Montez, but I’m good,” I said getting up as I felt a sharp pain. Montez caught me, preventing me from falling “Hey! You, ok?” he asks worried as the fear began to set in for me. Please don’t let me lose this baby, that’s all I could think about. “No, I need to go to the hospital, “I cried leaning on his shoulder as another pain hit

“I got you,” he soothes rubbing my back as he reaches for his phone.” I groaned as the pain became more intense. The next thing I know, Montez is being snatched away from me.  

The force of the pull almost made me fall as I grabbed the end of the sofa trying to balance myself.

Jey’s POV

“You just don’t get it! You still tryin’ to put the moves on her huh,” I yell getting more pissed thinking about his hands on Shantell. Why the fuck they up in here hugged up? “Look, she’s my friend and it ain’t like that,” Montez shouts in my face. “The fuck it ain’t, you always find a reason to touch her! Back off man,” I hiss trying to control my temper.

“I was trying to help her,” he says trying to calm the situation. “Help her with what? Trying to open her legs!” I yell, turning around to Shantell. “Why do you let him keep touchin’ all over you!?” I yell as I finally stop and take in her appearance, she’s sweating and looks like she’s in pain.

 “Fuck, hey what’s wrong baby?” I panic rushing to her as she cries falling into my arms. “The baby,” she moans holding on to me as I feel her go limp in my arms. “Shantell, baby?” I cry easing her gently to floor as I hear Montez calling 911.

“Come on baby wake up,” I beg as she lay unmoving in my arms.  “She’s pregnant please hurry,” Montez says rushing out of the room. “Shantell come on baby; I got you. Talk to me, please,” I cried still getting no response.

“What happened?!” Trin yelled running into the room as I don’t even look at her. My focus is Shantell, and I don’t know how much time has passed, but it feels like forever. I hear mumbled voices in my head as I see a hand reaching to touch Shantell.

“Don’t touch her!” I yelled pulling her closer to me. I can’t let anybody hurt her.

Joe’s POV

“You got to let them take her, Jey,” Solo said calmly trying to get through to him. I’ve never felt so helpless in all my life. Looking down at Shantell, my heart dropped as I saw blood seeping through her jeans. “Uce, you got to let them take her, she’s bleeding,” I plead as his eyes wildly look down at my observation. “Nah, you both ok baby. I promise ya’ll ok,” he cries holding her tighter, rubbing her stomach softly.

“We have to get her moved, we need to know what’s going on with the baby, and her,” one of the paramedics said as I nodded.

“I got it, Joe, he’s just going to keep fighting you,” Jimmy says kneeling by Jey. “Josh, she’s bleeding, they need to take her to see what’s wrong. They are here to help her, please let'em help her,” he cries touching his twin's shoulder, looking down at Shantell.  “Jon, she can’t lose this baby; it’ll kill her,” Jey cries looking at his brother.

“You got to let them help her, give 'em a chance. Doing this is delaying them both help,” Jimmy pleaded as I held Trin trying to keep her calm. “Shan, you got to wake up,” she cried as Solo came over rubbing her back. “She gon’ be ok Trin, I know it, Solo,” said but his somber face read otherwise.

“Please help her,” Jey cries finally allowing the medics to help as they moved fast pulling Shantell out of his arms as Jimmy helped him up. “Come on bro, you gotta let them work,” Jimmy says taking Jey in a hug.  

Jey’s POV

“We got to get her to the hospital, her pressure is through the roof,” one of the paramedics said.  “Let me just get a portable fetal monitor goin’ first, I need a reading on the baby,” the other responded.  I couldn’t think, I was worried about both of them as finally for the first time I heard my child’s heartbeat.  It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

 “Strong heartbeat, but we need to move now,” the paramedic said as they began moving her finally towards the ambulance.  “I’m riding with her, she’s my wife,” I roll off my tongue without even a second thought.

We gon’ be right behind ya’ll,” Solo assured me as I got in the ambulance with Shantell.  “You gotta wake up baby,” I encourage as it seems helpless, as the paramedics worked on her.

----------------------------

Fatu Family home

Papa Kish’s POV

“Joesph slow down, I can’t understand what your sayin’ son,” I said turning on the lights trying to wake up. I put him on speakerphone as I walked into the bathroom shutting the door.

“Dad, we’re on the way to the hospital. Shantell is sick, and it’s really touch and go for her and the baby right now,” Solo says as I hear Sandra trying to come in the bathroom shaking the nob.

“Text me the hospital, I’m on my way,” I told him coming out the bathroom moving around grabbing some clothes. “I love you son, I’m on my way,” I reassured him looking at my wife.

“What has she done now?” Sandra asks coldly as I hung up with the phone. “Oh, nothing she’s on her way to the hospital, trying very hard to keep our grandchild alive!” I hissed raising my voice as her expression softens.

“Is she ok?” She whispers as I shake my head at her. “Her blood pressure is up, probably from all the damn stress you’ve been putting her under and all the other shit that’s been going on. If this baby doesn’t make it or Shantell, you may have lost Joshua for good!” I yell storming out of the bedroom.

“Wait, get me a ticket,” Sandra says coming out of the bedroom. “Why should I?" I question not wanting to take her and make matters worse. “I’ve got to make it right,” she whispers with tears in her eyes.

---------

Grady Memorial, Atlanta, Ga

Jimmy’s POV

I can’t believe this happened, and to all people Shan. It’s been four hours and we still haven’t heard anything. Jey is slowly losing it as he’s pacing as we finally see a doctor walking in our direction.

“Family for Shantell Fatu,” the doctor says coming over as Jey met him. “I’m her husband, her mother is on the way too,” he says rubbing his hands over his face.

“I wish I had better news. Her pressure is through the roof, stroke level. We’ve been trying safer alternative medications to try to lower it. Her O2 levels were trying to drop below 93 percent, so we have her on oxygen as well. Her body is in fight mode right now, the doctor says looking disappointed.

Jey’s POV

Stroke…Oxygen levels dropping what the hell is going on? “I’m sorry what does all this mean and how is the baby?” I asked trying to get clarification as Trin grabs my hand trying to keep me calm. “The baby is fine; the bleeding can be common early on in pregnancy as well as the pain. 

“Ok, so what do we need to do for Shan,” I ask almost scared of the answer.  “She’s not responding to the medication and the only alternative left is Angiotensin, the doctor says as I cut him off.  “What you waitin’ for, give it to her,” I say without a second thought.

“There is a complication Mr. Fatu, she would miscarry taking this medication,” he says empathically.

“Oh my God,” Trin whispers leaning against me and I’m honestly glad she’s with me as she’s holding me up as well.  I feel my world crumbling and powerless to stop it.  “Miscarry?” I asked not believing what he was saying.  A few tears escaped my eye as I rubbed my eye trying to stop them.

“I’m sorry to have to deliver this news but we need to act fast. We are going to give the last medication we administered a little more time to take effect. After that, you’re going to have to make a decision if there is no change,” he says as out the corner of my eye I see Jimmy walking over.

“Is there a chance she won’t need any more medication, like her pressure goes down on its own from the last meds ya’ll gave her?” Jimmy asks as the doctor nods. “That is possible but we need to weigh all our options and prepare you all for what could happen,” the doctor states removing his glasses.

“How did this happen?” Joe asked as I’m still numb, I could lose Shantell and our child.  “Stress is a great factor, and that causes blood pressure issues, also many women develop it during pregnancy,” he says honestly trying to answer all their questions, but I only had one. “Can I see her?” I ask as he offers a small smile.

“Sure, I’ll take you to her,” he says leading me down to the hall to her room. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.  Shantell, looking so small lying in that bed and all the machines beeping, oxygen mask on her face.  I could hear a steady strong beat as I looked at the monitor hooked to her stomach. My baby... Our baby's heartbeat sounded so strong as I looked at the little blinking heart on the machine. This can't be it.

“I’ll give you some time, they just administered the last medication about twenty minutes ago. There is still no change, but we want to give it a little more time,” he said leaving us alone.

I sat beside her just trying to take everything in and I couldn’t wrap my head around it. “I can’t. There’s no way I can lose you, even if it cost us our child,” I whispered, finally breaking down kissing her gently on the temple.

Jimmy’s POV

I have never felt or seen my brother more broken than this moment watching him fall apart weeping over the love of his life. Placing my hand on his shoulder, he wipes his tears, standing up to talk to me.

“How can I kill our baby, Jon?" he asked looking at Shantell. "I had to tell them I was her husband to even be able to see her, now I got to make a decision that will destroy us," he whispers as I tried to reason with him.

“If Shan has a stroke, she and the baby could die Josh. Ya’ll can try again, bro,” I said trying to get through to him. “Are you asking or just tellin’ me I should ok the medicine?” he asked, his voice cracking with emotion.

“I’m not Josh, it’s ain't up to me,” I start as he cuts me off with his worries. “I’d have to tell her what I did, and she wouldn’t understand.  she’d never forgive me;” he stutters his voice trying to remain strong. “She’s gon’ understand Uce,” I reassured him.

Jey’s POV

“Shantell would never take anything that would kill or harm our baby. She would rather die first, and I’d lose them both,” I sighed trying to get Jon to understand. I could hear him taking deep breaths as he was trying to find his words.

“What if her pressure goes down without the medication, how long are they saying they want to wait?” he asks as I interrupt him. “She needs it now. Jon, I gotta… I can’t lose her. I can’t play with her life, she is my life,” I say defeated, just scared of what’s next to come. I went back to sit with her leaning as close to her as the bed would allow.

“Mr. Fatu,” the doctor said interrupting us as I stiffened, dreading the question. I knew he was about to ask what my decision was, pulling Shantell closer to me. “No,” I whispered kissing her once more running my fingers through her hair. “You don’t want us to give her the medication,” he asks as I flinch. “Yes, I want her to get the medication, but I don’t want my baby to die. But I really ain’t got a choice, do I?” I question raising my voice slightly.

“Give her the shot,” Jimmy says stepping over to the doctor. “He is her husband you can’t make that decision,” the doctor said trying to calm my brother down. “I’m making the decision here, not him. Shantell trusts me, she would let me choose. Ok, you give her the medicine and when she wakes up you tell it was me, not him,” Jimmy pleads.  As grateful as I am for him trying to take that burden, I can’t let him do it.

“No, Jon,” I start as he cuts me off. “Bro, I’m doin’ it,” he pleads, his voice strained with emotion as I stand to face him and the doctor.  “I know why you doin’ it. You doin’ It for me and I understand it.  But it’s Shan, it’s my child, my family,” I profess looking back at her feeling my eyes burning with tears. “Give her the medicine,” I said knowing it was the right choice.

“I’m gon’ be right her baby,” I whisper trying to control all these feelings I had as I watched the doctor fill the syringe with the medication that is going to crush our dreams. I felt Shantell move against me, bringing me out of the haze I was in. “Wait doc, she’s waking up,” I said sitting up a little trying to give her some room.

I could hear the monitor beeps increasing as I looked at the machine to the side of us. “What’s her pressure looking like?” Jimmy asks as the doctor explains the increased noises. “Her blood pressure is going back up; she needs to calm down. She can stroke at any moment,” he said full of worry, wanting to administer the shot.

Shantell’s POV

God, I feel like my head is about to explode as I’m trying to open my eyes. I could hear Jey faintly asking me to wake up as my eyes finally find his.” Josh,” I moan trying to adjust my eyes to the light

“Shantell, come on baby,” Jey encouraged as I tried to take the oxygen mask off my face. “Can I get this off her,” Jey asks as the doctor nods looking at the monitor. “We can try it, her O2 levels are back up to 97,” he states printing out her vitals as Jey removed the mask off of me. “Josh, my head,” I moaned in excruciating pain. "I know baby, it's gon' get better in a second," Jey says as I nod in understanding.

“Shantell, I’m Doctor Taylor, your blood pressure is really high. You could have a stroke at any moment, that is why your head hurts. Now the medication we need to give you will prevent that, but you will lose the baby,” he says calmly as I feel my heart jump in my throat.

“No! No, don’t hurt my baby. Josh, don’t let them hurt our baby,” I cried as he pulls me closer. “Don’t let them hurt my baby,” I whispered trying to comprehend what is going on. “Nobody’s gon’ hurt our baby, Shantell. I got you baby, I ain’t goin’ nowhere, “he reassured me showering my face with gentle kisses. “I love you so fuckin’ much,” he whispered as tears filled my eyes.

“I love you too,” I cried leaning further into him trying to calm myself.  Taking deep breaths, I hear the monitor sound decreasing. “Yea, breath in and out baby,” Jey encourages looking at the monitors, as I nod trying to focus and relax my body. A few minutes passed and I felt my heart rate slowing down.

“Well, I’ll be damned the doctor,” says walking over to the monitor.

“What is it?” Jey asks not letting me go as I was trying to focus on the steady, strong beats coming from the fetal monitor. It was letting me know for the moment our baby was safe.

“Her blood pressure is going down, the other medicine is finally working,” Jimmy says looking at me with a small smile.  I couldn’t hold it in anymore, as I began silently sobbing but trying to remain calm. “You a fuckin’ miracle baby,” Jey praised as I could feel his tears falling against my face.

Jimmy’s POV

“Keep an eye on her nurse, I need to speak to Mr. Fatu,” the doctor said as Jey kissed Shantell’s forehead. “I’ll stay wit her,” I volunteered as I saw the look of relief on my brother’s face. He doesn’t want to leave her, and I can’t blame him. “Thanks, Jon. I’ll be right back baby,” he reassured her finally walking out behind the doctor.

“You really scared the hell outta us Shantell,” I said going over to sit beside her. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean too,” she said weakly, trying to keep my eyes open. “Get some rest, we ain’t going nowhere,” I told her, holding her hand as she dozed back off. “Lil Uce, you and your mama are some tough cookies,” I declared touching her stomach.  “Don’t give us no more scares, this yo uncle Jon talkin’. I’m gon’ be the cool uncle, but don’t tell yo uncle Joseph,” I said smiling talking to Shantell’s stomach.

Jey’s POV

“What you mean, she’s not out of the woods yet?” I hissed trying to not scream from frustration.

“Her pressure has been up for a long period of time, now we have to make sure the bleeding and pain doesn’t start back up,” Doctor Taylor says placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.  “Ok, so what do we do?” I ask, spotting Shantell’s mother getting off the elevator.

“How’s Shantell and the baby?” she asks hugging me. “The doctor fill you in ma, it’s improving but we ain’t out of the danger zone yet,” I said letting her go. Out the corner of my eye I see my dad and mom talking to Joe and Solo.  When did they get here, and who called them?

“Why did you bring her here?” Trin asks my dad as he hugs her. “She’s trying to make it right babygirl. Give her a chance,” he says as I feel the anger in my boiling as my mother is approaching me.  “Ma, please not right now,” I said not caring about the hurt expression on her face. “Joshua how is Shantell?” she asks as I laugh bitterly. “Bro, calm down,” Solo says coming over to me, trying to get me to remain respectful. At this moment I’m scared and I’m tired of the bullshit.

“This is all because of you! All this stress, you have a part in it whether you want to believe it or not! I yelled raising my voice, as she looks at me in horror. “Yea, you mama,” I said unfeeling. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, almost knocking the wind out of me, I caused a lot of this stress as well.  From the jealousy, breaking up with her, Taraji, and the list goes on.

“You can’t blame this all on me!” she cried as I nodded in agreement with her. “You right ma, I can’t because I share plenty of the blame.  I couldn’t stand up to you, I am to blame because of my indecisiveness, and jealousy,” I said standing firm in my truth, trying to not lose it. “I’m owing my part in it, when will you own your part,” I said walking off, heading back to Shantell’s room.

Joe’s POV

“Why are you here? You ready to kick my child when she’s down?” Shantell’s mom Tanya accused coming over to confront Aunt Sandra.

“Ok, we are at a hospital and people are sick in here,” Uncle Kish said holding on to Aunt Sandra, ready to jump in if need be.

“She’s in a good place for treatment, harassing my child, steady pushing and nagging,” Tanya said trying to maintain her composure. “Come on Ma, let’s go see Shantell,” I suggest going over, taking her in an embrace trying to calm her down.

“Thank you, baby, you always took care of my Shan. Always kept your word to protect her, “she says hugging me tighter as I’m trying not to break myself. That image of her laying helpless on the floor in Jey’s arms is going to stay with me forever.

 Shan and I have been close since her internship almost five years ago.  I met her before everyone else, that’s my sister for life. She got me through a lot of shit before I met Tangela. Regardless of the outcome of her and Jey, she will always be my sister.

“I always got her ma, let me take you to her,” I said steering her towards Shantell’s room. The sooner I got her away from Aunt Sandra the better.

“I do love Shantell; I just want to make it right,” Aunt Sandra cried. As I turned around, I could see the remorse on her face, but I don’t feel tonight was the right time to do all this. I felt Mrs. Tanya stiffen against me.

“Now that she is in there fighting for her life, you wanna make it right? Tanya asked walking back into her space.  “Nah, I ain’t dumb by a long shot, Sandra.  You want to clear your conscious 'cause all of the shit you’ve been saying and doing!” she yelled as Aunt Sandra broke down. “You don’t get to make it about you. You better pray they are ok because if they ain’t you gon’ have to see me," she threatened stalking off towards Shantell’s room.

"Let’s just sit down and calm down ya’ll it’s gonna’ be a long night," Solo said going over to his mom as I went in to see Shantell. Tonight has been a long night for us all but I pray this gets better. It can’t get much worse, could it?

---

Thanks for waiting! I've been under the weather but feeling better now.

Taglist:@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl @melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo @arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

[theculturedmarxist]

Eugenics is still the rule of the fucking day.

"People 65-plus and people who are immunocompromised should strongly consider masking during flu, RSV, COVID season while in indoor public spaces," said Dr. Céline Gounder, a CBS News medical contributor and editor-at-large for public health at KFF Health News. "And for everyone else — it all depends on what their risk tolerance is."

"Depends on what their risk tolerance is." Are you fucking kidding me?

CBS News chief medical correspondent Dr. Jon LaPook says he likes to use the "weather report analogy" for the general public. "What's the weather out today? If it's raining, you will probably want to bring an umbrella. If you are in an area where there is an uptick in airborne respiratory infections like COVID, flu or RSV, you may want to take extra precautions, such as wearing a high-quality mask in indoor public spaces," he said.

People should be masking up before there's a fucking "uptick." That's how you prevent a fucking "uptick". Especially considering testing isn't the metric the people in power are going by any more, but hospitalizations, which are always going to be lagging indicators. By the time the "uptick" is registered these diseases are going to have been present and active for days or even weeks.

After COVID hospitalizations climbed nearly 22% this week, the CDC is predicting further increases over the coming month as new variants spread. This replaces previous projections from the agency that admissions would "remain stable or have an uncertain trend."

Oh, cool, so things are already bad and the are predicting that things are going to get worse, but the decision is being made to not do a fucking thing about it.

In a 2021 "60 Minutes" interview, virologist Paul Duprex explained the current (and future) emergence of new variants — a concept applicable to the current situation. "Is there anything we can do to stop the virus from mutating so much?" LaPook asked Duprex at the time. "We can certainly stop it making as many mutations by stopping it infecting as many people - if we block its transmission, if we wear a mask, if we get vaccinated, if we do social distancing," Duprex said.

None of which will be happening because "Covid Is Over" and doing any of the necessary things to prevent it are voluntary at best.

After news broke about the BA.2.86 variant earlier this month, the CDC said the agency's advice on protecting yourself from COVID-19 — which includes wearing a high-quality mask among other recommendations listed on its website — "remains the same."

Oh alright let's see what the CDC recommends

In addition to basic health and hygiene practices, like handwashing, CDC recommends some prevention actions at all COVID-19 hospital admission levels, which include:

Ugh. At least its recommendations implicitly admit that covid is airborne.

Still, some experts fear it could be hard to convince Americans to don masks again even if COVID cases continue to rise. Dr. Danielle Ompad, an epidemiologist at the NYU School of Global Public Health, said "It's a bit like putting the genie back in the bottle." Still, she has personally started wearing a mask again recently in crowded places, where the risk of exposure is greater.

Huh, I wonder why it would be hard to convince people to mask up again. Who's responsible for letting the genie out of the fucking bottle? Maybe they should be taken to task for this fucking decision?

"If I were with people who aren't public health-trained, I would wear a mask, particularly in crowded situations, because I really don't have time for COVID. Mask mandates are challenging because they make people really bent out of shape out of proportion to the ask."

What people are getting "really bent out of shape" by mask mandates? Just "people" huh? No specific people at all? Okay then.

"Who wants to get sick while on vacation?" she says. "If you're going to be in a crowded public place — the subway, an airplane, a crowded theater — those are the kind of places I would at least consider wearing a mask."

Hey maybe these fucking super-spreader places shouldn't be open especially with multiple variants spreading across the country with no mask mandates in place.

Though increased cases and hospitalizations are prompting precautions, Gounder says she doesn't see another lockdown in our future. "That ship has sailed. Has sailed for years now," she said. 

"That ship" just sailed itself, huh? Another development with no cause and no active participant? Just up and sailed on its own, did it? And there's no one to sail it back? Man, that's crazy.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Now i like your stupid face

summary: Friendships have developed, and now that everyone's catching on, Jon's catching something else...

ft. Damian fixing Jon's attire to his level, some selfies and chillin, and Jon catching feels for our boy Dami

The dynamic doesn’t change much, at first. It had still been teasing and annoying and provoking each other to see who’ll rise to the bait first, but with a layer of friendliness, of knowing that it's just fun and games. 

It was the little things that began to clue the rest of them in, his friends first and foremost, who, at the time, still bristled when Jon neared Damian in their presence, more so when they began teasing each other. Once they caught on, the rest of the school who’d begun to be invested in their situation since the day Damian’s books met the floor, began to as well.

Things like Damian’s use of more informal language than the robotic textbook he often sounded like, Jon’s attendance and grades, the way they seemed to gravitate towards each other when in the other’s presence. 

The fights became nothing but banter, usually ending in laughter, much to everyone’s bewilderment. Jon’s coffee intake became less and suddenly he was showing up to tutoring with two cups of tea rather than a single cup of coffee.

Damian seemed less stiff all the time, clothes changing just slightly to be pronounced casual prep, wearing long earrings with cuffs in an ear, eyeliner making its reappearance onto his person, although it was a soft brown framing his eyes rather than the harsh black.

It was puzzling to the rest of the world how they were getting along now.  Damian was questioned on it, giving such vague answers they all stopped trying to ask anyways. Jon became a steady presence in their lies, dragging Akira along with him, much to their distaste. 

They’d developed a stable bond, despite being polar opposites in reality. Damian was still determined to fix Jon’s mannerisms and clothing taste, although mentioning such made Jon scowl and retort with the fact that there was nothing wrong with what he wore.

“It’s all…wrong.” Damian eyed him critically from the vantage point of Jon’s bedroom doorway. Jon himself was on the bed, flopped on his stomach and scrolling through his phone.

“Everything I do is wrong to you, Dames.” Jon muttered, feeling his face heat up as the words came out disgustingly fond instead of the exasperated tone he was going for.

He had moved from the doorway into the room fully, opening the door to his large closet and examining the contents. 

“You have a perfectly acceptable wardrobe here, i can’t fathom why you don’t use it,” He tsked, yanking a shirt off a hanger. “And you can’t tell me it does not ‘fit with your aesthetic’, because you can certainly make it fit with whatever this is.”

“You just gestured to all of me,” Jon deadpanned as he rolled over, placing his phone down.

“Take everything off.” Damian demanded, throwing a bundle of clothes at him.

“Take a guy to dinner first, jeez,” Jon smirked, catching the clothing. “I don’t put out on the first date anyways so…”

“You’re impossible,” Damian huffed, tugging at the collar of his sleeveless black turtleneck, the shirt tucked into green harem-style pants. He turned around to both give privacy and to continue a search for what he deemed better clothing. Without turning around, he tossed a beanie at him, another thing for him to put on.

“Are you decent?” Damian asked dryly a few minutes later, turning around anyway. Jon was shoving the beanie on his head, twisting it in a way that it messed his curls. 

“Here, let me,” He adjusted it, looking him up and down. Blue caught green and held each other gazes even if just for a moment. Said moment was broken as Damian shook his head, sitting him back down and going to rummage in the bathroom connected to Jon’s room. 

“What’re you doing?” Jon pulled up his snapchat, taking multiple pictures with different filters. Damian came back out equipped with all the makeup that that other owned. 

“I’m going to teach you to wear the atrocity you call makeup correctly.” 

Jon looked actually offended by the statement, and dodged as a makeup wipe came at him. “There’s nothing wrong with it!”

“It’s offending my sensibilities.”

“My brother used to wear it like this-!” 

“Does he now? No. Do you know why? Because Timothy got him to see the error in his ways by simply existing . He looks equally as dramatic now as he did then.” 

“But I'm not my brother and I will not be swayed by your Wayne child charisma.” 

Damian tackled him and they wrestled around the bed for a minute, before the smaller boy flipped them and pinned down his wrists, straddling his lap. 

“Haha.” Damian said triumphantly. Jon was extremely aware of how they were placed and flushed accordingly, looking anywhere but the smaller boy on top of him, because they were just friends, just friends, justfriends-

“Oy!” Kon’s voice rumbled from the stairs just as Damian began to attempt to wipe away his eyeliner. “Y’all better have clothes on!”

“kON!” Jon’s voice cracked, the pitch going higher with embarrassment.

Damian made no move to get off, simply putting on an appalled expression. He had so many siblings that in this day and age he’d rather continue with what he was doing and ignore the embarrassing jeers from Jon’s older brother.

“Stop moving, hayseed, you’re making this much harder than it has to be.” He finally got most of it off, and then applied most of it as usual. He brandished the eyeliner like a sword, and made Jon sit up, despite not moving from his lap.

“A-ain’tcha gonna get off?” He mumbled, sure his face was as red as it felt. 

“Shh. And no, this makes for a better angle.” the pencil dragged against his skin and flecked up, creating a thin dramatic wing, the polar opposite of the tiny subtle one Damian so often wore.

He did the other side, capping the pencil and finally scooting off, taking the supplies back to the restroom after he’d finished. 

Jon admired himself in the camera of his phone, immediately posting a bunch of pictures. Damian shoved him over and leaned back onto the bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He’d been making more use of it now, Jon's influence, he was sure.

The taller boy held up his phone and snapped a selfie of the two, a cheery rose colored filter on and hand drawn hearts in the corners. Jon was smirking and had thrown up a peace sign, and Damian had looked up for a minute, looking largely unamused. 

He posted it on all of his socials, tagging Damian and slumping back down. After a moment’s consideration, he scooted forwards and placed his head so that it was resting on Damian's crossed legs.

“Get off.” Damian grumbled, making no move to actually push him off his person. He only shoved off the beanie, threading his fingers into the raven curls and pushing his head to the side in a playful manner, keeping his eyes on his screen.

“Meh.” Jon stared up at his phone, moving his head back to where it had been, Damian’s hand still in his hair. They stayed in silence the rest of the time there, only moving once Damian had gotten the message he needed to leave. 

“I arranged your closet, since we’re friends I thought I might offer you some more outfits than the typical one you always wear. Your jacket will go with any of them.”

He waved to the small cubbies, seven outfits for seven days of the week. it was a gift, in an odd sort of way. Jon felt both pleased and mildly irritated, because really, what was he, a five year old who needs their clothes set out for them?

He finally settled on a simple,“Huh. Thanks, D.”, before sitting up. 

“I gotta get over to your house and make you look more normal because despite this being your designer casual prep, you still look like you came out of a magazine.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” He asked, stretching out now that Jon was no longer keeping him from moving. He stood, grabbing his bag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Not really, more of an observation.” Jon shrugged, looking at him from upside down. “But you’re going to wear jeans and a hoodie one of these days, at the very least.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “We’ll see, Kent. I’ve got to be going now, I’d better see you on time for tutoring tomorrow.”

“Yessir.” Jon called as the other boy exited his room and went down the steps. As the downstairs door closed, Kon poked his head into the room. 

“You guys are so disgusting.”

He threw a pillow at his brother's face. “Shut UP, Kon!”

The next day’s session went on, Jon being only two minutes late and making up for it by presenting Damian with a cup of tea, blended drink in his own hand.

“I dunno how you can stand to drink that stuff when it’s getting so warm out.” Jon scrunched up his face, the gesture making Damian turn to hide a small smile.

It wasn’t his fault the expression was endearing, okay?

“I don’t understand how you can pay eight dollars for a glorified slushie of milk and sugar with a dash of caffeine.” He retorted, taking the cup.

“Shut up and drink your tea,” Jon slid into the seat next to him, their bodies smushed into each other. He took the needed papers and books out, setting them next to Damian’s books.

He picked up the papers Jon had set out and hummed a noise of approval. “You’re doing much better in your classes, Jon. Congratulations. By the end of this year, you should have the satisfactory marks for all your credits, including the ones you had to make up.”

“Thanks, D.” he grinned, before adding more quietly. “Guess I couldn't have done it without you.”

“Of course not.” Damian turned his head to the side, looking at him with a soft look in his eyes, rather than the teasing one Jon had assumed they would hold.

The warmth that it held flooded the other boy, and he flushed as a small smile accompanied it, hint of white peeking through soft lips.

Some emotion flashed on Damian’s face and he looked away, light pink tinting his skin. “L-let’s begin. This shouldn’t be that hard, it’s nearly identical to what you did last week-”

Jon tuned him out, only the sound of his voice filling his ears as his mind began to wander. It was so…so indescribably amazing how they’d gone from where they had once been to where they were now. Whatever he threw at him could be thrown right back, hot and cold, light and dark, the most cliche polar opposites…

God, what was he, a love sick teen?

Oh.

Oh, no.

“Are you paying attention?” Damian snapped him out of his mid realization. “Jonathan?”

 “I uh-” Jon stood, knocking his chair over. ”Igottagotothebathroomberightback-” 

He rushed out of the library, leaving a concerned and curious Damian behind to pick it up. He crashed into the empty restroom, turning on the water and splashing his face. 

This was not good. Possible the biggest understatement of his life, but how else could this be described? Sure, he’d always been attracted to the other, and maybe it had grown just a little within the few months of them talking, but not a crush size. 

Couldn’t be.

 And if it was, he was doomed to the unrequited feelings of a trashy fanfic. This was Damian, Damian, who was a secret badass, his tutor, and most importantly, one of the only people to have beat down his advances.

God, he was so fucked. 

He splashed some water on his face, looking at himself in the mirror. He shut his eyes and breathed in. This was fine. It would be fine.

He came out with a smile and an apology as if he hadn’t just run off like a frightened deer, and denied all of Damian’s attempts at concern.

He just had a crush on the closest friend he had. Like he said.

Fine. 

[apomaro-mellow]

Part 7

Eddie pawed at the door experimentally before laying his forehead against it. This was hell. He was in hell right now.

“Why did they stick us in the closet?”, Steve asked, pulling the string to turn on the light. 

Jonathan scratched at his head while looking down at the floor. Steve was able to clock the guilty look on his face. But he was focused on Eddie, who was now banging his head on the door.

“Stop doing that”, Steve said, turning him away from the door.

Eddie wished he didn’t. In the cramped space in the closet Steve and Jonathan were already chest to chest. Now Eddie was in the mix, sharing the same breathing space. He met Jonathan’s gaze but for a second before looking away, but Steve caught it.

“What was that look for?”

“Nothing”, Jonathan said at the same time Eddie said “What look?”

Steve crossed his arms and waited for one of them to break. “That night you two were together. What happened?”

Eddie stared at Jonathan. “You actually didn’t tell him?”

“It wasn’t my business to tell”, Jonathan said. “And I…” He let out a bone deep sigh. “This has gotten way more complicated than I thought.”

“What’s complicated?”, Steve asked. When neither answered, he felt like he was losing his mind. “Well?!”

“I like you”, Eddie blurted out, wringing his hands. “And when I saw you guys kissing, I lost it and when Jonathan found me I told him about it and he seemed remarkably chill considering I have the hots for his boyfriend but-”

“We’re not actually dating”, Jonathan cut him off.

“Jonathan!”, Steve hissed.

“What the hell are you talking about?”, Eddie’s eyes darted between them.

“Steve-”

“Jonathan. Just-shut up and let me think! Just let me think!” Steve urged them both and put his hands to his head. Because just when he was getting used to pushing down the feelings for Jonathan, feelings for Eddie started to reach the surface.

And now he was trapped in a closet with them.

What were the odds of them just sitting in silence until the other three finally let them out? Robin and Argyle might break but Nancy wouldn’t balk at keeping them there until Groundhog Day.

“Jon and I aren’t really dating”, Steve finally confessed.

Eddie was frozen while Jonathan’s eyes continued to shift. Steve continued to explain the whole situation, seeing as he wasn’t being interrupted. When he finished, he resisted the urge to melt into the coats.

“This all seems pretty elaborate just to trick Dustin”, Eddie said.

“It was only really a two step plan”, Steve admitted.

Eddie turned to Jonathan. “And what he’d do to get you in cahoots with him?”

Jonathan shrugged and gestured to Steve. “He looked like that. Could you say no to him?”

“Never”, Eddie breathed out. “So you and him aren’t actually…I mean you don’t feel…?”

“Not. Not exactly”, Steve said. “Jonathan, I really like kissing you. And that sounds weird to say out loud. But not because of why you might think. God this is hard. I just-that night, when we first kissed, I felt weird when Eddie saw us and it’s because, because I-” Steve pushed his hair out of his face.

“I think I know why Steve”, Jonathan said. 

“Really? And you’re okay with it?”

“When Eddie and I talked, I realized a couple things about myself.”

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

“Really.”

Eddie felt like he was watching a ping pong match but only able to follow half of it. But then both players were looking at him like a ball boy that couldn’t keep up.

“I’m thinking about doing something really stupid”, Steve said.

“We won’t know how stupid until you do it”, Jonathan egged him on. 

Steeling his nerves, Steve stepped even more into Jonathan’s space and kissed him. Eddie swallowed. When Steve had said…well he had hoped…God the space in this closet just got a whole lot smaller. He could feel the sting of rejection turning into a burn when Steve parted from the kiss, looked to Eddie, then grabbed him by the face and pulled him in.

He was kissing Steve.

HE was kissing Steve.

He was KISSING Steve.

Everything else melted away as the kiss got deeper. The closet, the party, Steve’s boyfriend-

Eddie pulled back with a gasp. “Your boyfriend!”

“Fake boyfriend”, Steve reminded him.

“Right. Right, the fake boyfriend. Who is still okay with this?”, Eddie said, trying to convince himself while looking at Jonathan.

“More okay with this than you may think”, Jonathan said. 

It felt like an eternity passed between the two of them but Eddie was still aware of Steve’s hands on him. Eddie didn’t even realize he was reaching for Jonathan until the closet door opened.

“Oh my god! Is Steve making out with the freak and the weirdo?!”

“Yeah and we’d like some privacy”, Steve said before slamming the door shut once more.

---------------------------

Dustin looked ready to explode. Or maybe he looked ready to implode, Jonathan really couldn’t tell.

“This is bullshit!”

“Language”, Steve and Eddie said in unison.

“Do you know I made a list!? I made a list of all the eligible guys in Hawkins”, Dustin opened up his book bag and pulled out a notebook.

“Lemme see that”, Eddie snatch it from him and flipped through the pages. “I’m number six?!”, he squawked.

“Am I on the list?”, Jonathan asked.

“Who’s number one?”, Steve leaned onto Eddie to see.

“How am I under Argyle? Steve just met the guy”, Eddie lamented.

“You know”, Dustin gestured to his head. “The hair.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, that explains it all.”

Steve kissed Eddie’s temple, then grabbed Jonathan’s hand. “Don’t worry about Dustin’s dumb list. You’re both my number ones.”

“So we’re both your piss?”, Eddie grinned.

“Better than being his number twos”, Jonathan pointed out.

“Dustin, lemme see that list again. I might need to keep my options open.”

END

Thank you for joining me on this one! See you at the next fic!

Tag Team

@freddykicksasses @itsfreakingbats @thatrandombatgurl @loguine-linguine @cecinestpasunblog @aliea82 @lololol-1234 @dynamic-power

[riddle-me-ri]

Well, now I want to see the reaction of different versions of Johnny (Scarecrow) to the death of his S/O...

a/n: so the angst continues lol. I'm dealing with a lot of social anxiety that makes me wanna die so it just felt fitting to carry on lmao. The Mad Hatters are next 💙

Content Warning: death mentions, implied violence, and some blood/gore mentions, and heavy angst.

The Scarecrows React to Reader Dying in Their Arms

Arkhamverse Scarecrow:

Jonathan has long thought to be void of emotions.

You being the only person that made him feel anything.

When your body fell, Jon’s heart fell to the pit of his stomach. 

Despite his injured leg, he immediately falls to his knees to try and treat your wounds.

He’s panting, his heart pounding, as he shakes his head in disbelief.

Fear…fear overcame him like he’s never known…even more than when he faced his own near death.

Jon tried to stop the bleeding, tried to relieve your pain.

Fear…despair…guilt…

Jonathan went from being void of emotion to…suffocatingly overwhelmed with them.

Nolanverse/Murphy Scarecrow: 

Jonathan is in denial.

However, as he watched blood flow out from your wound, your body withering in pain.

Jon is dragged back to the harsh reality. 

He attempts to calm you down, he understands it hurts, but you’re losing blood. 

Jonathan barely makes out your faint voice telling him you love him.

He’s unsure how to respond as if reciprocating the sentiment will cement your fate. 

Jon did tell you he loved you, but soon after begged you to hold on, and reassured you would be okay…

Even though he knew deep down it’s a lie. 

BTAS Scarecrow:

No…no, no, no, NO!

Jonathan rushes to your air, the bullet still ringing in his ear.

He cried, screamed for help from anyone as he cradled you into his arms. 

Jon removed his mask and tried to put pressure on the wound.

He shushed you as you began whimpering, he told you to try and relax and breathe. Help is on the way…

Jon continued to say reassuring things to you, but he can’t tell if it’s more for you or himself. 

Jonathan was always scared it would come to this. 

His worst nightmare…to lose you…became a reality.

TNBA Scarecrow:

Everything moved in slow motion.

The knife sheathed into your chest, you fell to your knees after the knife was roughly torn out of you.

Jonathan’s first thought is to douse the assailant with fear toxin–show them fear–

But he saw you quickly losing blood as your face grew pale and decided against it. 

Jon’s mind began racing–no way to contact help, too far out to make it to a hospital.

He still wanted to refuse the inevitable, that you are dying.

For your last remaining moments, he tried to make you as comfortable as possible.

You slowly faded away to Jonathan telling you he loves you and that he’s gravely sorry.

Fear State Scarecrow:

You weren’t supposed to be there. 

Jonathan was in the midst of his most potent toxin yet.

And you were hit head first with it when you walked in and he thought he had the door locked. 

Jon tried to calm you down as your heart continued to pound–wanting to leap from your chest. 

You were panting, choking on the very air you breathed, every breath turning into a scream–

Until your heart stopped altogether and the room got quiet.

Jonathan is shocked as you fall lifelessly into his arms. 

Now it was his turn to live out his worst fear.

Year One Scarecrow: 

Jonathan was panicking. 

He fought between leaving you to get help or staying with you to tend to your wounds. 

He decides to stay until he can get you stable enough to find help or find a way to call for help. 

Jonathan doesn't want to admit it but the situation looks dire.

He tried to stay strong for you, not show any sign of weakness.

But there was no denying you were dying, it hurt even more to admit there was nothing he could do about it.

Jon refused to let you see him cry though. He continued to comfort you and reassured you until the end. 

When your eyes closed and you drew your last breath was when he finally broke down.

Masters of Fear Scarecrow:

As you tried to hold in your blood, you heard Jonathan’s mortified screams.

Jonathan held you bridal style in his lap as he tried to stop the bleeding and prop your head.

He steadily muttered the words "no, no, please…" and "please don't leave me…"

Jonathan looked around. For any signs of another figure.

For the time Batman stalked him, why couldn't it have been tonight?

Jonathan continued checking your pulse, his actions more frantic as your pulse got weaker. 

It didn't take long for him to start sniffling despite how hard he tried to look strong for you. 

He can't help but feel like he had this coming for a long time, he just wished it was him instead of you.

Happy Halloween, Scooby-Doo Scarecrow:

Jonathan doesn't want to believe what he just saw.

But when you weakly croaked at his name and reached out for him–

Jonathan knew he had to stay with you, despite the instinct to run and get help.

His stern voice was laced with softness as he told you that you were okay and he was there and wasn't going to leave. 

Jon tried to begin tending to your injuries as much as he could but you were fading fast. 

He wasn't one to give up so easily, but he also knew the logistics that you weren't going to make it.

Jon kissed your temple and cheek as you slowly drew your last breath.

He just wanted to make sure you knew in the end how precious you were to him.

Harley Quinn:TAS Scarecrow:

Jonathan’s voice cracked as he cried out your name. 

This-this wasn’t supposed to happen! 

He doesn't even try to hide his horror as he drops to his knees beside you. 

Jon is almost scared to touch or hold you, worried that he might hurt you more.

He choked on his own tears as he saw the color slowly drain from your face.

He does find the courage to gently prop you against his chest and rub your arm in a soothing motion.

Jon shook his head, verbally beating himself up over what happened.

Before Jon finally gave into his tears, you used the remainder of your energy to tell him you loved him and it wasn't his fault.

[soulc-hilde]

Ch. 03 - Tough Love

Pairing: Jey Uso / Josh Fatu x Aries / Ezmeralda Bey

Synopsis: Devoted to her craft and her family, WWE Superstar Ezmeralda has a library of accolades accomplished on her own and by the side of her family like never before. As she leads the Women's Revolution to glory, romance seems to find her at the most unexpected moment... in the ring.

Warning(s): SFW, OC is a black woman, swearing, WWE-canon violence, Non-scripted fights, body shaming, body insecurities, WWE's consistant misogyny is blatant until later chapters, etc.

Cross-posted: Wattpad

Kansas City, Missouri | Hours 'till Monday Night Raw

After the weekend, everyone was loading in. To the surprise of Josh and Ezmeralda, Trinity and Jon had fallen into an argument over their engagement. Settled in catering, the elder Fatu took that as his moment to vent to the four.

"So, what happened?" Ezmeralda asks, setting down her bottle of sweet tea. "Cause I  got texts from Trin freaking out saying that you left and I got your texts asking me for some girl advice, so what's going on, manin?" 

Jon sighs, leaning over the table. "Man, I tried to have a conversation with her about the engagement cause she hasn't made not a single step to plan our wedding with me. We were chilling on the couch and when I brought it up, she's over there huffing and hiding under the blanket like some damn kid, Ezzie." 

"Not once I have I ever brushed her off like that, especially in a way that was so disrespectful," he grits his teeth as his mind goes over that moment. "Then she just started yelling at me and then talkin'bout some: 'go find someone else to give you what you're looking for.' Find someone else? What the hell?"

"So, Trin and Jon has been engaged for... I wanna say like, two years? And they are literally two peas in a pod; however, they both have their human faults that are starting to come out and create this dark shadow at this point in their relationship. For Trinity, she doesn't properly speak about what's going on in her head. She can be freaking out over something and instead of talking about it, she'll let it fester until it starts affecting her relationships with others."

"And Jon, he's real loving and when he puts his heart on the line - doesn't matter if it's over somebody or something, he'll give his all until he can't no more. He wears his heart on his sleeve and he loves hard, sometimes a little too hard. In this case, I feel like he notices that Trinity has something holding her back mentally, but he doesn't know how to help her settle it without coming off as harsh or like trying to force it. They really just need to work on their communication."

"I can admit that Trin was immature in that aspect of the argument; however, she's not the only one who did wrong in this situation," Ezmeralda starts off slow.

"I don't know if you noticed, by a chance, but whenever marriage and committment is mentioned, she freezes. She kind of disconnects herself from the conversation and when it comes to confronting her about it, your approach may come off more so as you just trying to force her greatest fear out so y'all can move on."

She lays a gentle on his from across the table, "and I know that's not what you're trying to do. It just comes off like that to her. The best possible way is to kind of coax her out of that corner like 'are you scared about taking us further?' or 'is there possibly anything from your past that haunts you?'"

Jon nods, allowing her to continue. "Clear yes and no questions are going to come off that your mind is open to whatever she lays out to the table. It conveys that you're ready to take a step and clean out your closet in hopes that she's ready to do the same." 

Her older brother, Ezra, nods, adding in his own two cents. "Clear communication is what y'all need. No hysterics, no raising your voices. Just calm and collected, so y'all can decide whether or not y'all wanna take that next step. Man, I'm tellin' you, some niggas be taking this marriage shit for a joke, but I know your family. I know your morals. Once y'all say 'I do', that shit's locked down. So, clear this shit, little bro."

"How you feelin' knowing that we gotta wrestle against her and Brotus?" Josh quietly asks from Ezmeralda's right, their bodies practically overlapping one another thanks to how close they sat.

Jon sighs, kissing his teeth, "business is business. All that personal shit is at the door while we out there, man. I'm really worried about how she's gonna take it with how she thinks 'n all." The others hum as Ezekiel snorts.

"Who you tellin'?" The middle triplet scoffs. "Remember that one match, she drop kicked the shit outta me cause I said her outfit was crooked before we went out? Sis don't take no prisoners, gahlee."

The others look at him, shaking their head in silence. "Boy, you stupid," Ezmeralda laughs as the others follow. The group stands, walking to their locker rooms to get ready for the night. 

Monday Night Raw

"So, in the WWE, there's like this pyramid or listing - however you see it. At the top, is your main event stories like Trips vs. Axel tonight, then your mid-cards which depending on ranking can mean just how important the match is to the fans and your storyline, and finally, your prelimanary matches. Out of all these cards, the Divas only get one match and it's typically in the preliminary section or somewhere amongst the mid-cards if it's a title match."

"Preliminary matches are also used for talent that's either new, starting a new storyline with other wrestlers, or has to fill up space because all of the big names are in the field in working. Josh and Jon, despite the rising pop that they've had since 2010, they've mainly been assigned to preliminaries. Whereas for my brothers and I have always been booked between mid-cards and main events."

"It's a tough fight for the top, but I know that their time's coming soon. And I also mean that for the Divas and Trinity, too."

In their locker room, the triplets watch the monitor as their friends do their respective entrances. Trinity's face held a dark glare that became worse as Nikki stares at the woman from across the ring, rubbing on Jon's chest. Rather than trying to avoid any further tension, Jon let's it happen while Josh and Brie simply stand in the corner, deciding who was to go first. 

"That's lousy as hell," Ezra shakes his head. "Now ain't the time to be antagonizing them." Ezmeralda purses her lips, "it's Nikki for Christ's sake, she's gonna piss people off regardless."

Ezekiel mugs the screen, "hopefully, Trinity chews his ass out afterwards." Ezra scoffs, "that is if she'll even talk to the man."

As they continue to watch the match, Jon gets tagged in by Brie after facing Trinity's professional yet uncharacteristic aggression. He steps in, the two staring one another down as if trying to talk through their eyes. 

"When it comes to mix gender tag matches, typically, the men aren't to touch the women and the women aren't to touch the men. Even if they do, it won't call for a disqualification or anything. It's mainly implemented for the sake that the Divas can only do and take so much. It's how they were trained and even in the big league, it's how they practice."

"Please, don't fucking do it," Ezmeralda sighs, already knowing what Trinity was thinking. With great timing, she pulls a hurricarana on Jon as he rolls in the corner. Tensai leads her out the ring as the crowd roars at the unexpected moment.

Ezekiel laughs, "she done did it!"

Ezra laughs as well, "good thing the fans like it. It's been a while since another woman outside of you and Chyna roughed up a guy in the ring." The match ends with the twins losing as they roll out the ring while Tons of Funk celebrates their victory. 

The Three Sins v. The Shield 

As The Shield finishes their promo, the triplets walk out to their intro, charging for the ring. After the commercial break, their match was cued as Ezekiel starts off first for his retribution against Jonathan for taking the U.S title last night at Extreme Rules while Joseph and Colby had won Ezmeralda and Ezra's tag team titles.

Nemesis and Dean lock up, switching different holds before shoulder tossing him. Setting off into a cycle of trade offs, Nemesis hits him with a blow to the chin before rolling him into a quick pin but Dean kicks out. As they stand, Nemesis whips Dean off the ropes, the two bouncing toward one another before he performs a double knee to Ambrose's chin. 

Nemesis flips him over, pulling him into a hold. Standing to their feet, Nemesis twists Dean's arm before tagging in Aries. She sends a knee into Ambrose's nose, backing him into the corner with a series of blows before bouncing him off the ropes beside them, whipping him into the set behind them. As Dean comes her way, she catches him in a tight hold before slamming him over her head, executing a clean belly to belly.

Laid out on his back, Dean groans before his eyes widen as Aries performs a leg drop. Her thick legs land on his chest, elliciting a gasp for air from the U.S champ. He rolls on his front in hopes to relieve his lungs but she pulls him back to her, going for the pin when he kicks out. As Dean sits up, Aries nestles the point of her knee along his spine and pulls his arms back to her hips. 

The position lasts for a few moments as Dean fights out of it, forcing them both to stand as he sends a kick to her gut. Stunned, he takes his moment to tag in Seth for a breather. The rapid, two-toned high flyer comes running for her but she easily trips him up and keeps his body laying for her to do a knee drop on his back. 

As Seth kicks his feet, she pulls him closer and wraps them around her waist before grabbing a handful of his hair in her right hand as the other holds his legs to her waist. Reeling him back so he laid against her chest, she spins them around and lands on her knees executing her variant of a facebuster.

She stands him to his feet, performing a series of kicks on each of his sides before ending it with an enzuigiri. He falls to his knees, struggling to stand while she tags in Hubris. Going back to her spot in front of Seth, she stands ready with her hands locked together as Hubris stands on the top rope. 

The older triplet jumps into her hands as she lifts him over her head. Soaring, Hubris lands on Seth with a crossbody before rolling him into a pin. On the count 2, Seth kicks out. Hubris brings Seth to his feet before sending him shoulder first into the steel post. As Seth slides down the turnbuckles, Hubris continuously stomps the tag champion in the corner as the referee counts down. 

Bringing him out the corner, Hubris bounces him off the ropes before hitting him with a spinning heel kick. He goes for the pin, but Seth kicks out once again. Holding Seth in a lock, he brings them back into the corner where Nemesis makes his tag. The two pick Rollins up by his legs and slam him into the canvas with a double powerbomb. 

Nemesis goes for the pin, but he kicks out once again. Nemesis brings him into a hold before he starts fighting out of it. Bouncing off the ropes, Rollins sends the older man on his back with a shoulder check. Continuously, Seth bounces off the ropes in an effort to catch Nemesis but each bounce resulted in the striker jumping over the champ with ease.

On the third bounce, Nemesis catches him in a hurricarana before going for the pin but Seth kicks out at two. Trying to pull Seth into a hold, the highflyer uses the last of his strength to take control before sending Nemesis into The Shield's corner where Roman gets the tag.

With Roman in the ring, a quick change of course was evident as the Samoan sends strike after strike on Nemesis before sending him flying with a shoulder check off the ropes.

Nemesis fights out of Roman's hold as the crowd cheers his name only to get slammed into a pin, but he kicks out at two. Dean tags in before stretching Nemesis in a hold. Dean lands a missile dropkick off the ropes before pulling him into a pin, but he kicks out. Dean tags Seth in once again and sends Nemesis in the corner with a series of blows.

From the ground, Nemesis sends a kick to Seth's gut but he reciprocates with a slam into the turnbuckle. Seth holds Nemesis into another submission as Hubris and Aries cheer him on from their corner, encouraging the crowd to call his name. Seth mocks the triplets and their family, imitating their signature kiss to the heavens - a tradition to their loved ones who've fallen in the ring before performing their move. 

The crowd boos as Hubris holds back an outraged Aries from storming the ring. As Seth goes to charge for Nemesis, he's caught in a Samoan drop that brought the crowd back to their feet. He rolls into the corner, dodging Seth's clothesline to tag in his big brother while Aries checks on him. 

-- Skipping to the end --

After the commercial break, Ambrose had tagged in Roman while Hubris tags in Aries. As the two come to a staredown, the massive powerhouse glaring down at her as she stands unwavering, the crowd roars as their minds comprehend the trading of moves that was bound to happen. 

They charge for one another, but every attempt was futile for Roman as he was met with heavy clothesline one after another. Pulled from a corner, Aries lifts him onto her broad shoulders before landing an F5. Wanting to put him out for good, she then performs another signature, the three powerbombs. With a roar, she slams Roman down three times before pulling him into the pin.

The fans stand to their feet, cheering in hopes she'd get the pin when a wild Dean breaks it up just before the referee reaches the 3-count. From the top rope, Nemesis comes flying with a missile dropkick before sending Dean out of the ring with a clothesline over the ropes. 

Together, Nemesis and Hubris perform suicide dives on separate sides of the ring as Nemesis takes out Seth and Hubris comes crashing on Ambrose. Catching her breath, Aries stands to her feet amongst the chaos. As Roman unloads a series on blows on her back, she gains the strength to block his next hit before throwing an elbow across his face. 

As he stumbles back, she gets to her feet. Roman charges for her again, but she catches him with a superkick so clean, the slap rang amongst the cheers. The Samoan crumbles to his knees, leaving an idea in her head. Sending a kiss to the heavens, she wraps Roman's arm over shoulders as both hands grab him by the belt, standing him to his feet. 

The crowd becomes rowdy at the recognizable stance as Aries begins to slam Roman in a suplex. Twisting her hips, he rolls with her as she slams him into the second suplex. On the third, she twirls her hips once more and slams him down, but she keeps her back arched, feet planted as she holds him pinned. The ref slides over, slamming his hand against the canvas. 

"1...2...3!" The crowd and referee count together as the Three Sins get their payback from Extreme Rules. With the three laid out in the ring as the triplet's music plays, all three pick the titles up and stand on the top rope over the strown bodies of The Shield. Aries and Hubris holding the tag titles with Nemesis carrying the United States title.

"I can't wait to hear that announcement: And your new... Tag Team Champions... The Three Sins!"

[tiredtogepi]

A Lady & Her Hounds

Chapter 7

The Hound x Fem!Reader (Jon Arryn's daughter; Sabrina)

This chapter contains: Fluff | Death

Word Count: 1003

In the morning the three of you went on your way. For some reason the mood was light and you were full of hope. Even if you had to see your step mother, bringing Arya with you would give you some credit and maybe you could have some say in how your future would go.

You could see from afar something had happened with a farmer, his lot was burned, broken and sacked, and the criminals left him dying sitting by a rock. Arya and Sandor approached him while you stayed on your horse. The man explained what happened. Sandor gave the man some water and ended his suffering.

“That’s where the heart is.” He showed it to Arya.

As he walked back a man jumped from behind him and bit his neck. That man was quickly killed, but the damage was done. Another one approached

“You’re The Hound! There’s a fat bounty on your head.”

“And you think you’re gonna collect it?” He knew that man didn’t stand a chance.

“That’s the man that said he would fuck me bloody if he saw me again.” Arya said taking out her sword.

A few seconds later he was dead. Arya has come a long way, you thought to yourself.

As you made camp now close the hills of the Eyrie, you could see how he was struggling with the wound on his neck.

“You have to do something about it or it’s gonna get infected.” Arya started.

“No fire.” He said quietly. She continued to grab a piece of burning log and walk towards him.

“It’s gonna be quick I pro—“

“No fire!” He yelled.

“At least let me clean and sew it.” You tried to convince him. He nodded while still looking away from you both.

You grabbed a little bag that you carried on your horse and walked back to him. You put some of his hair away and started by cleaning his neck with alcohol. Your bodies standing close to each other while you took care of him gave you a calming sensation. He felt the same, he had a strong wish to hold you, but he would never make the first move.

“You said your brother gave you that sword? My brother gave me this!” He looked at Arya as he pointed to the right side of his face. You started carefully using the needle to close the wound while listening to the story of how his brother burned him for playing with one of his toys. You finished stitching him up and put on an ointment to help with the healing.

“The worst part is was my brother who did it.” He commented.

“Your brother is a monster…” You mumbled quietly thinking he wouldn’t hear you. He looked up at you realizing you just showed him your empathy.

“It’s all done, you should feel better now. I stitched it and added this natural ointment I made a while ago. It’s good for helping the skin heal, from cuts, scratches, burns…” He looked up at you.

He didn’t thank you. He was not very verbally expressive, but you could tell a lot from his actions and body language.

You finally could spot the Eyrie from where you were and you made. You walked down the path to the Bloody Gate and both Arya and Sandor seemed to be talking like long-time friends. It was interesting to see how their relationship developed, but yours seemed like it stayed the same somehow.

“Who would pass the Bloody Gate?” The guard announced

“The Bloody Hound, Sandor Clegane and his… travel companions, Lady Arya Stark, niece of Lady Arryn and Lady Sabrina Arryn, daughter of the deceased Lord Jon Arryn.” He responded.

“Then I would like to offer my condolences, Lady Arryn and her son Robin died... three days ago.” The guard explained. There was silence for a few seconds.

“If what you say is true then I am the new Lady Arryn.” You stepped forward.

“Unfortunately my Lady, there’s someone else in charge of The Eyrie.” The guard seemed to also not like that situation.

“And who might that be?” You were confused.

“Lord Baelish.” The guard responded.

There was a dry silence that later was filled with Aryas laugh. Laughing at her own misery. You were taken with anger pulled out your dagger and stepped towards the guard only to have Sandor holding back.

“It’s not worth it.” He looked at you. You knew he was right, but the frustration was just too high.

“Listen, take Arya back to camp and wait for me there, I need to go get my dogs. I’ll meet you there by nightfall.” You told him and left.

Luckily most animals were kept on the sides of the bloody gate, since it was the flatter land. You watched as the two of them walked back. You quietly made your way to the stables and found four of your dogs near the horses.

“What happened to the rest of the dogs?” You asked a passing stable boy.

“Lady Arryn got rid of them a long time ago. They scared Lord Robin.”

“What did she do to them?” You knew, but you needed to confirm it.

“She fed them milk of the poppy. They never woke up again. These ones didn’t eat it, we kept them here because they keep the rats away.”

You thanked the gods that you had started herb training with the four them before you left. They understood they shouldn’t eat that and it saved them.

Once you opened the stable doors they ran to you. Jumping, happy crying, tail wagging and licking your face. You missed your kids. You tested to see if they still knew their commands, and they were perfect. They were the smarter ones who were chosen to start a harder training that saved their life. Two boys Desert and Forest, and two girls, Rain and River. You regretted not training the others. But at least you were together now.

[cult-of-the-eye]

MAG 85 let's goooooo

AHHH I forgot how much I loved the creepy violins

"in his personal investigative capacity" he's so funny

even in a horrific situation he's still trying to categorise things and keep it neat and have some semblance of continuity

But still...that's what he chose

Ok this statement actually fucking creeped me out I'm terrified of the idea of home invasions and the whole dipping in and out of reality it really put me on edge

I loved the style of writing and I thought it was a genius concept though I did enjoy it

Immediately giving Michael the distortion vibes

Nova Scotia? Is that the place with little sunlight where the vampires are? Not sure...

The way Jon's voice goes so soft also added to it I was so creeped out by the complete and utter nothingness and the idea that the person themself is whispering, as if unsure that they're allowed to actually have statements about themselves unsure if they actually exist I thought it was so effective

It sort of reminds me of that one statement where the guy cheats death

The whole transition between humanity and non-humanity and then witnessing what happens to the entities place you've taken

Wait omg was Eric Delano one of Gertrudes assistants????

Noooo I hope this wasn't his terrible fate (although I guess if this was the most terrible ending it wouldn't be the worst out of all of them)

"skulking around the periphery" drama queen

He does have a point I guess, but it's the eye that means that he physically can't have that middle ground

I think there's no rhyme or reason to the statements honestly, he's been given like 2, that's definitely not enough to form a proper pattern, only theories

I think he's just having them fed to him, just to keep him occupied and keep him tortured

It's another case of how obsessive he is, each statement could plausibly mean nothing more than being fed statements to be kept busy but he's trying to get as much information as possible, even knowing that the conclusions he's coming to are pretty much baseless, I don't think he can help it really, he might be doing it to himself but he's most definitely stuck

I was like why does jon hate Michael, he's just a little guy and then michael remembered he stabbed him

Oh god the foreshadowing he's not gonna be human for much longer is he

He's aware that he's putting Georgie in danger and I feel like he might have other options but maybe Georgie is the closest he can get to the institute, so that's why he's not gonna leave

God Georgie's disappointment

She knows about them, I guess she might want to help? She must be scared though, she seems brave

Wait does she know that Jon's wanted?

Ha I wonder what acting "weird" is by Jon's standards

is this Jon being a good wingman

Normal ex behaviour is judging their next date

"Dullard of skull mountain" SHOTS FIRED

He's so judgy omg

Georgie likes Hungarian food I guess good for her

And Jon doesn't

Melanie 🤝 Jon (don't like Hungarian food)

Is Georgie's type people who don't like Hungarian food???

Ha I love Georgie she's so funny

God Jon is actually such a dick I love him

Weird doesn't even begin to cover what Martin and Tim are

[meanwhilewvba]

Joy's First Day pt. 1

by @anotherwvba

Monday, 7:55am

Okayokayokayokayokay… calm down, Joy. They’ve already hired you. They have to like you… don’t they? Of course, they do! They wouldn’t have hired you otherwise. But, what if they don’t like my dress? Is it too dress-y? Too short? Too long? Oh no… nonononono… my shoes! There’s a smudge on my shoes! They’re gonna hate me! They’re gonna see my shoes and think I’m a slob! I should go home, call out. This was all a bad…

“Pardon me, Joy?” A young lady stood holding the door to the Atlanta headquarters of the WVBA open. She was dressed in a red dress, very business appropriate, but quite fletching on the redhead. When Joy failed to respond, the young lady asked again with a bright smile, “Are you Joy Pesca?”

“Uhm, yeah,” Joy nearly stuttered, shuffling her feet and straightening the non-existent wrinkles in her dress, “I mean yes yes ma’am I’m Joy Pesca it’s my first day and I might be a little nervous.”

The young redhead giggled with a warm and reassuring expression, “I can tell. Trust me, there’s nothing to be nervous about. My name’s Melodie, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Joy took Melodie's extended hand, practically trembling, “Thank you, Melodie…”

“Melodie Swan. I’ll be your mentor on our administration team,” Melodie said as she shook Joy’s hand. “Welcome to the WVBA!”

Melodie held the door open for Joy to enter the building and the front lobby. With a slight hesitation, Joy stepped through, “I’m… I’m sorry Melodie. It’s just… I’m so nervous. I love the WVBA and to be working here, it’s just… I don’t know…”

“Surreal?” Melodie ventured and Joy nodded. Melodie just smiled again, putting Joy at ease, “Well, you’ve got nothing to be nervous about. You’ll do great. Let’s get you to HR and get your new hire paperwork taken care of.”

As Melodie led Joy toward one of the halls leading off the lobby, the doors behind and to the left of the receptionist’s desk burst open. Two security guards and a tall man that Joy recognized as Disco Kid, one of the Minor Circuit boxers, were pulling a rather combative short, scrawny looking young man with white bag gloves out of the room.

Following close behind were a small handful of trainers, Joy assumed, and another instantly recognizable face, Aran Ryan. The Irish hooligan was screaming and pointing with his green gloved fist. “Oi! I tells ye’ tha boy is radio rental! He don’t need ta learn a proper jab, he needs a proper shrink! Who in blazes signed tha bloody mental case?!”

The young man was shouting back, but Joy couldn’t make it out over all the shouting and scuffling. Melodie, on the other hand, was completely unbothered, “Come on, Joy. We don’t want to keep HR waiting.”

Joy watched the slowly stabilizing situation, “Is… this normal?”

“Oh, girl!” Melodie’s laugh was loud and immediate. “This is Monday.”

To Be Continued

Jon Adamski is an OC created by @punchout-ispunched and is used with permission.