#r move the necessary area closer

[vivalasthedas]

there are a lot of good things about mods like stardew valley expanded

but one of the giant fucking negatives

is they really do not understand efficient space use in games like this

oh you made the map bigger did you? You made it take longer and be more annoying to traverse a space i have to cross a lot, hhuhh? And you added no interesting elements except endless fucking repetitive tree and shit. Well done. Truly amazing

[redflagromance]

Superdim Sunday: Chapter 2

If pressed, she would agree that it was a little crazy to drop everything to drive two hours in the hopes of ruining Hammer's night. She felt vaguely embarrassed by herself throughout the drive, fingers wrapped a little too tightly around the steering wheel.

At least no one knew what she was doing. Her masked activities were clandestine. She could do embarrassing shit and not have it bite her in the ass.

"I don't have to do this." Ji-Min tested out the thought. "I could go home and just let him run wild until he gets picked up by the cops or a local suit."

…Nope, bad idea. Ji-Min sneered. The steering wheel creaked under her grip. The thought was extremely displeasing.

She couldn't let someone else handle him. That was her role and no one else got to do it. She was going to find out whatever half-baked plan he had pulled out of the garbage can of his mind, and she was going to thwart him.

That was what she'd been doing for months now. The newspapers would say that she was a rogue vigilante, with varying degrees of approval. They said that she was Hammer's mysterious nemesis, a shadow that only emerged when he was free to drag him to justice.

The truth of it was that Ji-Min was a massive hater and she couldn't stand to let Hammer have anything.

She stopped at a gas station in a bad mood and got an offensively large cup of tea from a faded machine. It tasted shit. She tossed it out the window and got bottled water at the next stop. The drive really wasn't that long, except that she was too keyed up to turn up music and enjoy it.

The closer to confrontation she got, the more wound up Ji-Min felt. The tension eventually got so high that she parked the car and did some furious calisthenics. She glared at anyone who looked at her, defensive about what she knew was weird behavior. It was necessary.

Ji-Min had spent a lot of time in the gym since her powers came in. If she didn't blow off steam, she'd find herself breaking things by accident.

Before she started driving again, she checked Hammer's social media. Ji-Min leaned on the side of her car and smacked on gum while she scrolled.

"heY r U ready to GOooooo," he had sent to Sunspot.

She'd sent back a thumbs up and a sparkly moon emoji. "Go to bed. You have a big day tomorrow, boss."

"😔 😩 😩 Y don't u love me anymore and be nice o me?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not your one true love 🔨 💕"

"haha 😂 🔥 😘  2 bad!!!"

God, what poor fuckhead was Hammer's 'one true love?' Ji-Min pulled a face and closed the app. Her stomach turned at the thought.

She pushed the disturbing bits away and focused on the eventual crime. If Sunspot was telling him to rest up, then Ji-Min should probably just get a hotel and wait for him to make his move. She sent her sister a text canceling their workout tomorrow morning. Ari sent back a thumbs up and a crying face.

Then she looked up a hotel in the area and checked the price. Feeling spiteful, she logged into Hammer's bank account and sent a $500 transfer to her Swiss bank account. He wouldn't notice. He never did. He might not even know his password. He only ever used his card.

She took a moment to scroll through his recent transactions. Fifty at a gas station, 126 dollars to a pizza place, 7 in ice cream, and a Paypal transfer for 7000 dollars. The note said "clothes."

Her phone chimed. A gray alert came up with some graph and a title about the stock market.

"Oh, fuck," Ji-Min sighed. She opened the app and then went to the settings. She ignored the landing page and its copy of the current stock market happenings. On muscle memory, she opened up the hidden login and typed in the 14 digit code.

The real message showed up.

Warning from Sir Tiger Explosion, it read. Bank robbery this evening in NYC at ….

The tension flooded out of her system. "Again?" Ji-Min snorted. She closed the app and opened up the hater group chat.

Harmes had beat her to it. As she opened it, " 💰 Always love to see someone push the boundaries!!" landed.

Ji-Min cracked a smile. "Innovate. Expand. Boldly go."

"Live laugh love the consistency," said an anon with a pirate hat icon. "Maybe it'll work this time."

"Unlikely," said Harmes. They followed it up with a couple photos of newspaper articles with headlines like "Local Man Attempts to Rob Bank."

Ouch. That wasn't even from the special crimes section. Ji-Min put a crying reaction on the image. Lurkers added crying and laughter reactions as she watched, probably for the same reason.

"Remember when he used the back of his atm withdrawal slip for the ransom note?" Ji-Min typed up. She felt a mean little smile steal across her face.

That got laugh reactions all around.

Feeling better, she shoved her phone back in her pocket and got back in the car. She cranked up the music for the last leg of the drive and arrived at the hotel in a good mood.

She swiped to pay with her Swiss account, and gave a cash tip to the receptionist. She didn't have much to bring in- a gym bag with her change of clothes and kit, as well as the bare basics like a toothbrush and hair supplies. She took her time getting ready by putting her hair up and stacking it with the pins that would support her mask later. When she was done, Ji-Min shrugged on her coat and went for a walk.

She spent an hour casing the city before she decided what to do with her time. Ji-Min got a table at a French restaurant for dinner and ate filet mignon and rabbit. She kicked back in a private corner with a glass of red wine and watched the people eat and walk outside. They were all so distant to her.

She'd never really felt like she was part of the crowd. And now…

Ji-Min finished her glass and left her card carelessly on the table while she went to the ladies room. She saw a server bob their head and hurry over to run the card.

In the bathroom, she checked her hair was staying in place and took a moment to stretch, limbering up her fingers and wrists.

She passed an older woman on her way out. Ji-Min could feel the stare. She didn't deign to look back.

With a yawn, Ji-Min collected her card and slipped it back into her bag. She scribbled a $40 tip onto the receipt and left as much in cash.

It was fully dark out by the time she left. Haunting sirens called out in the distance of the night, tattle tailing on some kind of trouble. She was feeling like trouble herself, personally.

'I'm not ready to go back to the hotel just yet,' Ji-Min decided. She felt the pleasant buzz of anticipation, a thrill down the back of her spine.  Ji-Min slipped her ear buds in and put on something with a thumping baseline beat. She idly used her phone to search the area as she prowled around the streets. The night air was crisp and the air was so fogged with pollution that she couldn't see a single star. It felt exactly like the kind of night for her to be unleashed.

She wasn't too far away from an interesting target.

The Versace store was closed at this hour, and the lights she could see were off. Ji-Min paused outside with her hands in her pockets, looking up. She turned off the music and slipped her headphones into the case.

She could tell that people were still inside. They were probably counting out money and doing inventory. Ja-Min popped in a breath mint and cocked her head at the building, tracking the faint impressions of body heat where workers were moving inside.

It was easier when there were fewer people around. It took her a few minutes to determine how many people were inside and what floors they were on. She casually walked around to the side of the building. She pulled the mask out of her bag and started attaching it, pulling the pins out of her one by one to attach the ribbons to her hair. When she was finished, Ja-Min pulled gloves out of her pocket and slid them on. As she slipped into the shadows, there was no one and no camera to watch her scale the wall.

She settled on a fourth floor window far from any of the lingering employees.

The subtle, cat-burglar type strategy would be to cut a hole in the glass and silently remove it. Hammer would break it with his fist and crash in– but he'd set up a drone first to record it, of course.

Ji-Min took off her gloves so that she could wedge her nails into the frame and pop it clean off. There was an ugly scrape, but the operation was overall very quiet. Ji-Min hummed with concentration and rotated the frame at an angle to maneuver it into the room. She stepped inside and leaned the window against the wall. Then she blinked in the darkness until her eyes adjusted.

She caught her reflection in a mirror while she put her gloves back on. It was hard to tell with her dark eyes, but her pupils were blown out to nearly subsume her whole iris. That was new. The night vision was one of her favorite powers.

When her gloves were back on, she took out a spray bottle and wiped down everywhere she could conceivably have touched on the frame. Then she finally took a look around.

There were cameras.

If the lights had been on, that would have been some small concern. As it was, Ji-Min casually flipped one off and prowled down the deserted department floor. She'd ended up in the home goods section. She dismissed it entirely and crept silently down the stilled escalator.

There was something so poignantly beautiful about the store deserted, dark, and cold.

This was the closest thing to religion that she ever felt.

The first thing she picked up was a thick bangle. It had the brand name emblazoned on it. "This is fugly," Ji-Min said, lips pulling up into a smile. She clapped it onto her wrist. "I don't even want it." She checked the price and let out an incredulous little giggle. "Incredible." She ran a gloved finger down the display and picked up a ring. "Gaudy." She paused. "This has potential, though."

Ji-Min worshiped in a daze as she slipped rings, bangles, earrings, and hair accessories into her bag. She was faintly tempted by shoes and a red dress, but even in her haze she knew better than to take anything that indicated personal information like her size. She could go to another store and buy what she wanted later.

She ended up with an eclectic mix stuffing her purse to the brim. Some of it she would sell, and some she would wear.

She barely remembered leaving. It was as easy as entering had been. She tucked the mask away and made her way back to her bed for the night.

The hotel room was larger than she needed. She turned the bathwater on and asked room service for a pot of tea. When it arrived, she sat it on the edge of the tub and went through her skin care routine. When she finally slipped into the water, she was perfectly relaxed.

After a while, she thought to snake her arm out to grab her phone and check on Hammer again. He'd changed his profile photo since the afternoon. This one was shirtless. Ji-Min let out an annoyed sigh, but her heart wasn't really in it this time. He'd let on more of the details for his plan since she'd last checked.

"The Planetarium?" Her skeptical voice echoed in the steamy air. "Is this going to be like the thing he did with that Aquarium?"

Just like that, her blood pressure was back up.

[foxy-eva]

Forever Has A Nice Ring To It

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: mentions of angsty Spencer

Summary: Spencer Reid has a hard time talking about his feelings. When he finally finds the courage to express his love for his girlfriend, both of them realize that forever has a nice ring to it.

Author’s note: I felt extra romantic today so I wrote this little fluffy fic. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 1.7k

Masterlist

In all those months I have been with Spencer I learned that following certain routines gives him a sense of security, which is why I adopted a few little habits since we moved in together.

Whenever I left for work before he needed to wake up, I would kiss his temple and whisper I love you into his ear. On every Sunday morning he was here I would bring coffee to his bed, black and with more sugar than he cared to admit, and snuggle back into his arms while he sipped it. After reading particularly interesting papers or news articles online I would print them, highlight what stood out to me and leave them on his desk. Anytime I cooked for us I would make a serving more than necessary to put it into small containers for him to take to work the next day.

Because of the odd working hours his job as a profiler brought with it, it wasn’t possible for us to have a date night routine every week. However, that didn’t hinder us from picking up certain habits for our occasional nights out. Spencer would make dinner reservations at restaurants I would categorize as way too fancy. I always dolled up enough to make him gasp when he waited by the door for me. He would call me stunning right before opening the car door for me. He would tell me about the latest research he read while we ate and I would share my coworker’s office-gossip with him.

Every time we were out for dinner he had this way of looking at me as if we were the only two people in the room. It was so easy to forget everyone else when I lost myself in Spencer’s honey-colored eyes. I would drink exactly one glass of wine, even though he told me he would be fine with me having more if I wanted. Knowing what habit we usually followed after our date nights, I never felt the need to have more than that. I’d rather have a clear head when I would finally be able to feel his hands on me at home.

I was aware that Spencer only broke our routines when something was off. I didn’t notice at first, but when we got to our apartment tonight after dinner and he didn’t instantly peel me out of my dress, I also realized that he hadn’t dropped one single random fact about the science papers I knew he had read this week. I remembered that he hadn’t told me how beautiful I looked when he saw me in my dress earlier. Now that I thought about it, he had even averted his eyes a lot from me tonight which was very unusual.

We were still standing in the entry area of our apartment when I stepped closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him. I was waiting for his fervor to kick in but he suddenly pulled away from me after a few moments. I scanned his face to figure out what was going on with him. My eyes landed on the pulse-point of his neck and I noticed the accelerated frequency with which his blood was rushing through his veins. My suspicions were confirmed when I took his hands in mine and felt the dampness on his palms: Spencer was nervous about something and he was holding back to tell me.

“My love, what’s bothering you?“ I wanted to know.

“Nothing, I’m fine,“ he hastily replied with a pitch a little higher than usual.

He moved over to the living room and let his body sink onto the couch, his hands rubbing over his eyes while audibly exhaling. I followed him and sat beside him, staring at him with raised eyebrows. He ran his fingers through his hair while looking back at me, a concerned expression visible in his features.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to ruin our night,“ he stated with a breathy voice.

I shook my head and took his hand in mine, letting my thumb gently rub circles over his skin while I said, “I’m a little confused, what’s going on?“

“I really wanted tonight to be perfect. I had all these things in my head I wanted to tell you at dinner but when the right moment came, I chickened out,“ he explained, a hint of anger in his words.

I was still clueless about what it was he was withholding to tell me and started to get worried.

“You could tell me now?“ I suggested.

Spencer took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes in an attempt to ground himself. When his look found mine again, he opened his mouth but closed it before any words had left him. He waited a few seconds and sighed before trying again, this time successfully.

“You know I am not the best when it comes to expressing my feelings but there is so much I need to say to you. From the moment I met you I was enamored by your nature. You have this ability to illuminate every corner of my heart when you smile at me. This light you are radiating got even brighter when I was scared to show you the darkness within me. I thought I could never let you in, afraid that there was a void in my soul waiting to devour you. You held me tight when I told you I was broken and quoted Leonard Cohen to me when you said ‘There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.’ And it did, you know? It really did get in, your light I mean. It’s as if being held by you brought all the lost pieces of my soul back together and now for the first time in my life I feel whole. With you by my side, how could it ever be any other way?“

That was the moment I noticed saline droplets wetting my cheeks. He held my hands in a tight grip and continued.

“Every morning when I wake up and remember that you are still here I feel gratitude wash over me. I don’t know what I ever did in this life to deserve being loved by you. I have never met anyone as considerate, witty and passionate as you are. I often tell you how beautiful you are but you might not be aware that I don’t only refer to your external features. Because you are the most beautiful person inside and out. I look at you and know there needs to be some kind of higher power because I can feel that our souls have been calling to each other for years until I finally held you for the first time. Every fiber of my body was yearning for you long before I even knew you existed. This connection I feel to you can hardly be put into words and no matter how hard I try, I will never do you justice.“

I was crying almost uncontrollably now, Spencer’s hands cupping my cheeks and wiping away the liquid pouring from my eyes. I wanted to let him know that I felt the same way about him but I wasn’t capable of forming words, only little sobs would leave my mouth. That was until his hands left my cheeks and reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a small square box. My breath hitched when I whispered, “Spencer, what..?“

He slid off the couch and knelt down on the floor with one knee. My eyes finally stopped watering when I fixated them on the man in front of me, anticipating what was to come.

“I’m sorry this is not as perfect as it could be but I need you to know that nothing in this world would mean more to me than having you by my side forever. I want to see your face when I wake up every morning until the day I leave this world and even then I need our souls to stay bound for eternity.“

He opened the box in his hands and I gasped at the beauty of the ring sitting inside it. When I looked back at him I couldn’t help but show him the brightest smile I had to offer. He let out a shaky breath and grinned right back at me when he went on with what he had to say.

“Y/N, you are the love of my life. Will you marry me?“

Even though I already knew what he would ask me when he got down on his knee, I couldn’t really comprehend him actually saying these words when I heard them. I kept grinning at him like a besotted fool, not realizing that he was waiting for me to react. Only when I noticed a small crease building between his eyebrows and the corners of his mouth slightly dropping, I snapped out of my trance.

“Yes, of course, yes! Yes, Spencer I want to marry you, oh my god yes!“ I squealed as I held my left hand up for him.

My excitement made him laugh as he pulled out the ring from the box, slipping it on my finger. He looked at the piece of jewelry sitting perfectly on my digit for a few moments until I suddenly wrapped my arms around his neck with a fervor he hadn’t expected, knocking the air out of his lungs and almost tumbling onto the floor with him. He caught me in time, securing my position and joining me on the couch. I couldn’t stop giggling when he peppered my whole face with small kisses until his lips found mine. I smiled into our kiss, still feeling ecstatic about what just happened. When I pulled back to look at him, I let my fingertips run over the stubble on his jawline while I spoke, “so, staying bound for eternity, that sounds like a really long time. Sure you won’t get sick of me?“

He leaned into my touch and looked at me with the utmost sincerity in his expression when he stated, “I am absolutely certain that spending what’s left of my life with you won’t be enough for me. Nothing could make me happier than having you for the rest of forever.“

[pigeonp0st]

could u do nat taking care of r when r gets sick (pretty please i beg of u)? preferably lots of cuddles 🥺🥺

idk i just love soft!nat 🥺

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #5

Words: 1,689

Warnings: none?

Notes:

I didn’t really like how this one turned out but i’ve finally decided that staring at it in my drafts with disappointed isn’t gonna make it any better...so here it is. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

———

It started with a cold. Just a couple of sneezes, a runny nose, and a sore throat...the usual.

It started out with you trying your best to hide it. Hide the sickness. That plan went under the moment Natasha heard you sneeze during training... she had you confessing to your sins much too quickly.

Suffice to say she immediately kicked you out of the training area with demands to take some medicine.

So she was the first to realize that you were sick, and she was the first to realize you were getting worse instead of better. She’d pester you endlessly when you wouldn’t want to talk about it, and watch over you like a hawk.

It was sweet, but you also didn’t think it was necessary. You were sure you’d be fine in three or so days.

How wrong you were.

When you wake up with a 103° fever for the third day in a row it has you layed in bed for the whole day groaning about the inequalities of the world, and begging Natasha not to get a doctor for the 100th time.

You were fine. Totally fine.

Natasha watches you with a mix of amusement and concern from the corner of the room and suggests, gently, that maybe you’re not.

You peak over your covers to glare at her in something like betrayal. “I’d be fine if you’d stop pacing and come cuddle with me.”

She seems to think about her options for a long moment and right when you think she’s going to reject you she relents with a heavy sigh and gets into the bed.

She’s so blissfully cold it has you snuggling into her side immediately, both to warm her up and use her as your own personal ice pack.

“You’re burning up,” Natasha whispers, but she pulls you closer to her—like somehow if she’s close enough she can absorb some of your pain and make you feel just that little bit better. “If your fever rises even a little bit we’re going to the doctors, okay?”

She’s concerned and worried, and even though a stranger fussing over you is the last thing you want you know you have to give her this.

As soon as you nod your head in agreement some of the tension seeps out of her body, much to your relief. As ridiculous as it is, you’re worried about her worried about you—if that makes sense.

“Around 100,000 people died from the flu in 2019,” Natasha mumbles against your forehead. She adds quietly after a moment, “just in case you were wondering.”

You were not wondering. What the fuck.

“Nat...that statistic is mostly old people.”

“Yeah,” Nat agrees, “you’ll be fine.”

And despite your body's protest, and how much of a pain it is to pull away, you do, just so you can give Natasha an incredulous look so she knows just what you think about what she’s doing right now.

Her face is unexpectedly vulnerable when you see it. She isn’t trying to bother you...she’s just…she’s worrying herself crazy.

“Nat,” you sigh, ready to embark on the most comforting and articulate speech you can think of, but a sudden fit of coughs has you turning away hurriedly to muffle your face in a pillow.

When your lungs finally decide to stay in your body for now, and Natasha stops rubbing your back, you’re too tired to try and comfort her, so instead you mumble, on the verge of sleep, “if I die; just know I love you.”

Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t help much.

But she doesn’t sound worried when she replies, just exasperated and fond. “I love you, too.”

———-

When you wake up again it’s to a bunch of kisses and beautiful red hair.

“Stop attacking me,” you grumble, trying to push her away, but you're not able to hide your smile. God, you love your badass (soft) girlfriend.

“Look who's not dead!”

Remembering your last words to her before you went to sleep has you finally opening your eyes and giving Nat a sheepish smile. Oops. “Look who really wants to get sick…”

“My immune system is stronger than yours,” Natasha scoffs, shoving both your medicine at you and a bottle of water.

“Asshole,” you mumble, moving to open the medicine bottle only to get stopped by a hand on your wrist. “What?”

“You need to eat first.”

Thus, starts the trip towards death.

————

“Oh my god, how much farther is it…”

Your fever is finally down and back to safer levels so naturally Natasha has insisted that you’re able to go to the kitchens yourself and sit outside to eat.

You need fresh air, she said.

The room is getting stuffy, she said.

It’ll be good for you, she said.

What a fucking devil.

“You’re literally the most dramatic person to ever grace this earth,” Natasha tells you for only the millionth time since the journey began. “Maybe if you stopped sliding against the wall and crawling on the floor like you got shot three times we’d get there faster.”

“Maybe if you’d help me—”

“I tried! But apparently i’m ruining your image.” She rolls her eyes when she says that, then turns away to grin like she thinks you won’t notice.

You’re a whipped idiot who's decided to make a complete full of yourself and waste what little energy you have just to get your girlfriend to laugh, and to prove to her that you’re doing better.

You’re definitely going to regret this later, but now, in the moment; This is totally worth it. No doubt.

————

Wanda is in the kitchen.

As soon as you see her you straighten up and stop leaning on the wall (and limping). Natasha laughs next to you when she notices.

“You’re doing better, Y/N?” Wanda asks, glancing over you before returning back to the soup she’s making. For you. She’s making soup for you.

You adore her. She’s your favorite person, she’s—

“Not your girlfriend,” Wanda interjects, amused, “and doing this as a concerned teammate, and because your girlfriend asked.”

“Yes, well I love you anyways. Your cooking has gotten very good,” you say, shooting her a grin while you practically bounce to the dining chair, in stark contrast to the way you were dragging yourself down the halls.

Natasha does a good job at trying to not look confused, but she clearly is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wanda informs her before you get the chance to.

“Favorite person for making you soup?” Natasha asks once Wanda’s done relaying your thoughts. She narrows her eyes at you then. “Not the person who has been taking care of you since you became an avenger, not the person who—”

“It’s very good soup, Nat.”

“Very,” Steve agrees from the living room.

Natasha sighs, takes a sniff of the soup, and resigns herself to the facts she’s faced with. “Yeah...it is.”

——-

“Close your mouth,” Natasha orders, tapping your chin. You listen, waiting patiently for the beep of the thermometer to signal it’s done.

When it does, Natasha pulls it back to study it. There’s a small lapse of anxious silence before Natasha reveals the results. Then...“Ninety-Nine. You’re officially a healthy woman.”

And with that, you’re finally free of the bed rest and able to walk the halls as a newly restored human being.

“I’m free,” you shout, tackling Natasha onto the bed and kissing her all over her face, completely overjoyed. “Natasha, I survived!”

You survived. It only took an exhausting week. When your fever went down a couple of days ago it spiked to 105° a bit after and you were sure you were going to suffocate in Natasha’s worry because of it. You had to go to the medical room...it was awful.

But now Nat laughs, and laughs, and then pulls you into a tight hug to stop all of the kissing. She seems to be unburdened and lighter now that she finally has the numbers she’s wanted.

“Loving you as much as I do is really just living in this constant state of worry and fear,” Natasha says when you’ve both settled down. “I do not like things being out of my control,” she admits, kissing the crown of your head. “Especially when it involves my heart.”

“Your heart,” you repeat, curious. “Is that what I am?”

“Ignoring the worry and fear part?” Natasha teases, quirking an eyebrow.

“We both know those feelings are accompanied with a multitude of good and beautiful emotions. I feel them too.”

Natasha smiles then, soft and gentle, and full of admiration. “Yes.”

You tilt your head. “Yes...what?”

“Yes, you are my heart. Or at least you feel like you are.”

At that, with a determination and seriousness that visibly shocks Natasha you say, “i’ll protect it. I’ll protect myself, and because you're mine also, I'll help protect you. Always.”

“Always,” Natasha agrees, her fingertips trailing across your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, embarrassed suddenly, “of course.”

————

“Are...are you serious?”

Natasha scowls into her tea and says nothing in response. This is fucking hilarious.

Your lovely girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so because the second she sees your face struggling not to laugh she begins glaring at you. “Don’t,” Nat warns. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, ‘my immune system is stronger than yours.’” You grin. “Oh how ironic this is.”

“I’m not sick—”

“Aw, but baby, the amount of tissues on the floor seem to be saying otherwise,” you gesture towards the growing pile, feeling absolutely no sympathy until Natasha glances at the pile with a sigh of defeat. She looks so small and sad covered in her pile of blankets...it simply won’t do. “Don’t fret, my love. I will take care of you, just as you took care of me,” you assure her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“First things first,” you tilt her chin up, “i’ll get Wanda to make you some soup so you can take some medicine.”

“I hate the world,” Natasha grumbles, mumbling some curses in russian.

“I love you, too.”

[thegirl20]

WFF Prompt #16 - Dimeritium

From @bamf-jaskier‘s list of prompts.  

All filled prompts are on AO3.

After Sodden, she is healed quickly and put to work helping the others. Her physical injuries had only been broken bones - some ribs and an arm - the easiest to heal with magic. Poor, sweet Triss is badly burned on her chest and neck. Tissaia is suffering the effects of dimeritium poisoning. And Yennefer is yet to regain consciousness. Countless others take up beds in the infirmary, moaning in pain and shrieking in the night from visions and memories.

It's hard work, but she throws herself into it. It's much easier to keep busy than to spend time with her own guilt.

She's carrying clean bandages to the storage area when she hears a commotion from further along the corridor. Recognising the voice, she thrusts the pile into the arms of a passing novice and runs to the source of the noise. Sure enough, two medics are sheltering just outside Yennefer's room.

"She's awake, then?"

"Yes." One of the medics looks at her with wide eyes. "She's-"

"Leave her to me." Sabrina straightens her shoulders. "I'll talk to her." Bracing herself, she opens the door and goes in, swiftly closing it behind her.

Yennefer is in the far corner of the room, her back against the wall, hands held in front of her. Her eyes are wild and unseeing, as they'd suspected. She's blind. At the sound of the door closing, Yennefer curls her hands and calls on her chaos, conjuring two balls of energy.

"Get back!" she shrieks, her voice ragged. "Leave me alone!"

Raising her own hand, ready to call a shield if necessary, Sabrina moves closer. "Yen." A head whips round to face her. "Yennefer, it's me. It's Sabrina."

Yennefer stills, her breath coming in gasps. Slowly she lowers her hands, snuffing the chaos out. "Are you holding anything sharp?"

A sob sticks in Sabrina's throat, jagged and hot. She shakes her head, then realises Yennefer can't see her.

"No," she whispers.

Yennefer nods. "Well, that's a step up from the last time I saw you." She snorts. "Not that I'm seeing you now."

"Oh, Yennefer," Sabrina covers her mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Sabrina takes another step, her hand hovering above Yennefer's shoulder. She's never been a very tactile person, and her and Yennefer have never really had that kind of relationship. With Triss, you don't get a choice; you get hugged whether you like it or not. With Yennefer, though, she's far more comfortable trading sarcastic barbs than hugging.

"You're very close," Yennefer notes. "Should I be nervous?"

"I was thinking of hugging you, if you must know," Sabrina snaps.

"You? Showing affection?" Yennefer clumsily thrusts a hand out, feeling for Sabrina's face. She tugs on her earlobe. "Are you positive you got all the mind worms out?"

"Fuck you," Sabrina says, tugging her into an embrace.

Yennefer's arms tighten around her. "I'm glad you're not dead," she whispers.

"Likewise," Sabrina says. "Too many of us are."

She feels Yennefer tense up in her arms.

"What about-" Yennefer begins, then pulls back, keeping hold of Sabrina's hands. She frowns, like she'd forgotten she wouldn't be able to read Sabrina's face. "Is-"

"Tissaia's alive," Sabrina says, smiling as Yennefer closes her eyes in relief. There was no doubt in her mind that's who Yennefer was going to ask after.

"Where is she? Is she hurt? Is she-"

"She's just along the corridor," Sabrina rushes to reassure her. "She's been poisoned, Yen. With dimeritium."

"What?" Yennefer is as horrified as the rest of them had been. "How?"

"Fringilla." Sabrina still finds it hard to believe that their own sister could do such a thing. "She threw powdered dimeritium in Tissaia's face and she inhaled it."

"I'll kill her," Yennefer says, squeezing Sabrina's hands past the point of comfort. "I'll fucking kill her. If I-"

"How about we focus on recovery before we launch another attack, hmmm?" Sabrina suggests. "I know you single-handedly won the battle and everything, but even Saviours need a rest."

"I need to see her," Yennefer says, then frowns. "Well, I need- just take me to her."

"She needs to rest," Sabrina says, but she knows any argument will be futile. With or without her assistance, Yennefer will get to Tissaia. She takes Yennefer's hand and settles it on her elbow. "If she's asleep, we're not waking her. Even breathing is an exertion for her at the moment."

"Yes, fine," Yennefer says. "Take me to her."

They head out of the room, Sabrina leading Yennefer carefully along the corridor, avoiding the healers coming and going and the piles of blankets and bandages littering the floor. They arrive at Tissaia's room and Sabrina peeks in the door.

"She's asleep," she says, keeping her voice low. "We should leave her in-"

"No!" Yennefer huffs. "I can't see her, Sabrina. I need to- I need to-"

With a sigh, Sabrina leads her into the room and over to Tissaia's bedside. She pulls a chair close to the bed and guides Yennefer to sit in it.

"Give me your hand," Sabrina says. When Yennefer acquiesces, she takes it and lays it on top of Tissaia's.

Yennefer makes a sound Sabrina's never heard coming from her before. A sort of whimper. And then she's out of the chair, her hands groping up Tissaia's arm to her shoulders and then her face.

"Yennefer!" Sabrina hisses. "What did I say?"

"Y-Yennefer?" Tissaia's voice is groggy from sleep and rough from coughing.

"Of course it's me, you ridiculous old bag," Yennefer says, pressing her nose into Tissaia's cheek and grinning.

Of course it's her. Who else would dare get so close to Tissaia. Or call her names? Only Yennefer would have the gall. And only Yennefer would get away with it.

Sabrina watches as Tissaia turns her head on the pillow until her nose brushes against Yennefer's and the two of them simply sit like that. Yennefer wrinkles her nose.

"You smell funny."

Tissaia laughs, but it's mostly a cough. "Why, thank you, Yennefer."

"No, not bad or anything. Just...not like you."

"Fitting, I suppose," Tissaia says. "As I don't feel very like myself."

Yennefer's hand slides down the sheet covering Tissaia, over her belly, cupping around where her hip must be. "You feel just fine to me."

"Impertinent," Tissaia mumbles, but makes no attempt to move away from Yennefer. Indeed, she turns further towards her, settling their foreheads together and sighing. "Your eyes-"

"Never mind my eyes," Yennefer says. "Just rest or Sabrina will throw me out of your room."

Sabrina rolls her eyes, but can't help her smile when Tissaia, weak as she is, grips Yennefer's shift in her fist and shakes her head.

"No."

"Don't worry," Yennefer tells her, in a loud whisper. "She's unarmed, so I can probably take her in a fight."

"You wish," Sabrina says. "I will leave the two of you in peace, but don't blame me if the healers kick up a fuss when they come to check on you and find you've acquired a bedmate."

She gets vague nods from both, so she steps out and leaves them to their reunion.

[4stars-uswnt]

Home Is Wherever I’m With You [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Hey, there just want to drop of this prompt in case you feel like writing it. Reader got home after a few months being away from CP because of the quarantine, maybe a moment of CP confronting R that she’s jealous of R’s teammate that got to lockdown together. Thanks.

A/N: after a week break (for the election and other stresses of life) (and technically i haven’t written in like three weeks bc of life and school), we’re BACK! hope y’all like this one :) and as always, feedback is more than welcome!! anyways, back to your regularly scheduled programming... 

“Hey, baby, I’m home,” you call out, as you enter the LA apartment you shared with your girlfriend, closing the door behind you, “fucking finally.” You mumble under your breath, as you drop your bags onto the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Christen runs from the bedroom upon hearing your voice, but before she can crash into you for a long-awaited hug, you put up your hands to stop her.

“Woah, Chris,” you almost falter at the sight of her pout, “I just got off a plane and came from the airport. I need to shower and get all these yucky germs off me.” You smell your shirt and make a face to exaggerate your point.

“But I missed you.” Christen pouts, and you give her a sympathetic smile.

“I missed you too, babe, but I just wanna be extra safe. Can’t have you getting sick or anything like that.” You wink, as you make your way to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Blowing her a kiss, you disappear down the hallway.

Christen sinks down into the couch, letting out a frustrated groan. If the forward was being honest with herself, she more than missed you; she was jealous. Although she knew that you loved her and only her and the two of you had been dating for almost two years, Christen couldn’t help the green-eyed monster from taking over when she constantly saw you on Sofia Huerta’s instagram.

The past two months, you had to quarantine in Seattle and stay in your apartment that you shared with Sofia during the season, while waiting for COVID to settle down enough for you to travel. During that time, you and Sofia spent a lot of time together, doing anything to keep you entertained.

Unfortunately for you, Sofia had often posted on her Instagram story photos and videos of your activities, whether it be a movie night or a bike around Discovery Park, leading to a very annoyed Christen Press.

It wasn’t that Christen was jealous in the sense that she thought there was something going on between you and the midfielder, more so that she was jealous that it was Sofia that got to spend time doing all that fun stuff with you rather than her.

Too caught up in her thoughts, Christen didn’t notice you plop down next to her. “You there?”

“Hmm,” she turns to face you, “yeah, yeah, just got lost in thought.”

“Well, now that I’m all clean,” you smirk, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively, as you move to straddle your girlfriend, “I thought we could make up for some lost time.”

“I like the sound of that.” Christen leans in closer to connect your lips.

—————

The next morning, after a long uneventful night, you woke up in your own bed next to your girlfriend for the first time in months. Turning over, you smile and admire the sleeping woman next to you. Wanting to do something somewhat romantic, you silently slip out of bed, careful not to wake your girlfriend, and head to the kitchen to make some breakfast.

As you were fixing up some coffee and healthy yogurt, oats, and chia seeds (or whatever healthy stuff your girlfriend puts in her breakfast), Christen was groggily waking up. Rolling over, she reaches out to the other side of the bed, expecting to find your warm body, only to be disappointed with cold sheets. Christen rubs her eyes and sits up, but before she could call out to you, you enter the bedroom, carrying a tray with two bowls and a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You smile, leaning down to give your girlfriend a peck. “Brought you some breakfast in bed.”

“Thanks, babe.” Christen’s heart melted, as she looks to see what you made. “Aw, and you even made my favorite.”

“Yup.” You playfully boast and wink. “Your favorite for my favorite.”

Your girlfriend can’t help but giggle at your cheesiness. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it, love.”

Right as you go to take a bite, Christen grabs your wrist. “Wait.”

“Whatttttt?” You whine like a child.

“Lemme take a photo.” She explains gently, ignoring your antics.

You roll your eyes, as she takes a photo of your bowls and posts it to her Instagram story:

The two of you spend the rest of the morning in bed, eating breakfast, giggling, catching up, and just enjoying each other’s much missed presence.

—————

Later that afternoon, as the two of you were doing your separate tasks, Christen preoccupied with re-inc and you with your article for the tribune, you finish typing your thought and shut your laptop. You get up from the sofa and approach your girlfriend, who’s sitting at the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your chin on her shoulder.

“You almost done?”

“Almost.” Christen hums, smiling slightly, as you kiss her shoulder and then her neck, making your way up to her cheek.

“I’m bored.”

Christen finishes writing her email and then turns around to face you. “Well, what do you wanna do?”

“You’re done?” You ask, feeling slightly guilty from pulling her away from her work, knowing she had more to do.

“I can be, if you offer up a better alternative.” Christen teases.

“Oh, I definitely have something better to offer.” You smirk and bring her in for a deep kiss. You immediately swipe your tongue on her bottom lip, asking for an entrance, which the green-eyed woman grants. Your mouths move in a perfect harmony, like a well-rehearsed dance. As you kiss down her throat, Christen lets out a sigh.

“Yeah,” she breaths, “this is definitely better.”

“Yeah?” You mumble into her neck.

“Mhmm.”

“Well then,” you pull your head out of the crook of her neck, “you’re just gonna have to wait till later because I found this Bob Ross tutorial that we’re gonna do.” You exclaim giddily, and you give Christen’s nose a quick kiss.

“Really, (Y/N)?” She calls out after you, as you go to get the supplies, slightly riled up. But when you come back, balancing canvases in one hand and paints and brushes in the other, Christen completely forgets about her frustration, as she sees your enthusiastic smile.

“C’mon, Chris.” You nod your head for her to follow you into the dining area. “And bring some wine too!”

Christen laughs, shaking her head, but grabs a bottle of rosé and two glasses.

“So what scene are we painting?”

“‘Island in the Wilderness.’” You scroll through YouTube until clicking on the video.

“Sounds hard.” Christen states hesitantly, as she pours some wine for the both of you.

“Eh, it probably is, but that’s the fun of it.” You shrug, thanking her, as she hands you your glass.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

While you’re setting up the canvases on easels and open up the necessary paints, Christen quickly pulls out her phone to take a picture of the set up, once again adding it to her story:

“Ready?” You turn to your girlfriend, about to start the video. Christen nods and picks up one of the brushes.

About 10 minutes into the tutorial, you lean back into your chair, frustrated by the difficulty of the painting.

“Ugh! This is so hard.” You set your brush down, replacing it with your glass of wine. “How does Bob make it look so easy? Mine looks nothing like his, or even yours.” Pouting, you gesture to Christen’s piece, which unfairly looks quite similar to the video’s.

Your girlfriend just chuckles at you, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek, hoping to placate you. “(Y/N/N), yours is looking great.”

“You have to say that. You’re my girlfriend.” You huff jokingly.

Christen ignores you and continues to watch Bob paint some trees just by flicking his brush back and forth.

Having given up on your own painting, you sit back and watch your girlfriend gracefully paint. You soon become bored, Bob Ross’s soothing voice almost putting you to sleep, so you grab one of your brushes. Reaching out, you poke Christen’s cheek, dotting blue paint across the side of her face.

Her jaw drops, and she turns to face you, as you have to stifle your laughter.

“You did not just do that.” She glares at you, readying her own brush, and before you know it, you have a stripe of green paint down your nose.

You raise your eyebrows at your girlfriend and then narrow your eyes. “Oh, it is so on.” You reach out in front of you and dip your hands in paint, and you see Christen out of the corner of your eye doing the same.

Before she could prepare herself, you’re smearing paint up and down her arms.

“Hey!” Christen shouts. “That’s not fair. I wasn’t ready.”

“All is fair in love and war.” You cheekily smirk.

“Alright, if you wanna play that way…” Christen trails off, as she cups your cheeks with her painted hands, squishing them together, effectively rubbing paint all over your face. “There you go, love.”

“That’s it. You are so getting it.” You wipe your mouth, where some paint had gotten.

Christen squeals and goes to run away, causing you to chase after her. Catching up to her, which is no easy task, fortunately for you, the forward had been wearing socks, you wrap your arms around her waist and pick her up. You nuzzle your nose in the crook of her neck, effectively spreading the paint.

“(Y/N), my clothes!” Your girlfriend exclaims in between laughs.

“It’ll wash out. And if not, I’m pretty sure you have like at least ten other shirts just like that.” You set the other woman back down on the floor, and she turns to wrap her arms around your neck.

“I love you, (Y/N).” She says with a giant grin on her face.

“I love you too, Christen.” You rubs your nose against hers, snorting when you see paint end up on her nose. “You’re more beautiful than any art piece.”

Christen giggles and brings you in for a sweet kiss. Pulling away, she backs away from you, slowly turning around to head to down the hallway.

“I think I could use a shower now.” Christen reaches for the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. Looking over her shoulder, she throws you a wink, as she unclips her bra. “You coming?”

Your eyes widen at the sight of the smooth skin of your girlfriend’s back. Shaking your head, you knock yourself out of your stupor and eagerly follow Christen into the bathroom, almost tripping on your own two feet.

—————

About twenty minutes later, the two of you are clean, having gotten rid of nearly all the paint off your bodies. As you’re going to get dressed, you notice Christen changing into a pair of sweat shorts.

“Babe, you might wanna change into something a little warmer.”

“What? Why?” Christen furrows her eyebrows, tilting her head in confusion. “What’s wrong with my shorts?”

“You mean besides the fact that they’re mine?” You tease, earning a blush from your girlfriend. “We’re going out.” You tell her succinctly.

“What? Where?”

“It’s a surprise.” You pull on a pair of loose jeans and slip on a warm sweater.

“Well, will you at least tell me what to wear?” Christen prods.

“Wear some layers. It might get cold.” You give her a quick kiss before heading into the kitchen to prepare your surprise, leaving your girlfriend absolutely clueless and struggling to pick out some clothes.

While Christen was fussing over her outfit, you quickly put together some fruit, and some cheese and crackers into a picnic basket, along with the bottle of rosé, two glasses, and a blanket. Scanning the apartment, you quickly thought of what else you needed. You snatch two of the pillows from the couch and stuff them in another bag.

'What else? Is that everything?’ You think to yourself. ‘Flowers, definitely need some flowers!’

You grab the basket and the bag with the pillows and head to the front door. “Chris, I’m gonna go pick up the mail!” While that was only partly true, as the mail had definitely been sitting in your box all day, you were also gonna go put these bags in your car and pick some flowers on the way out.

“Okay, thanks, babe!” She yells back from the bedroom. With that, you kick the door shut behind you and head down to the garage.

After having picking some flowers from the shared garden at the front of your apartment building, putting everything in the trunk, and grabbing the mail, you reenter your apartment.

“What took so long?” Christen asks with no malice in her voice.

You look up from the mail, and your breath hitches. Your girlfriend was wearing a simple outfit, a pair of light-washed jeans and a sherpa quarter zip, and her curly hair was in a half-up-half-down bun. While it may be simple, her beauty never failed to take your breath away.

“(Y/N)?” She pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you shake your head, “I ran into Jerry, and he wanted to know, and I quote, ‘where the hell’ I’ve been.”

Christen chuckles. “Of course he did.”

Jerry was the doorman and was very excited when he found at that Christen Press and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) would be living in the building, as he was a huge fan of women’s soccer.

“So, you ready?” You reach out to take your girlfriend’s hand.

“Yup.” She squeezes your hand. “You still not gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.” You quip. “You’ll just have to be patient, my love.”

“Fine.” Christen pouts, and you kiss her cheek, wiping the frown off her face.

—————

It was about a fifteen minute drive to the beach from your apartment, and when Christen recognized the familiar route, she piped up.

“We’re going to the beach?”

“Mhmm.” You hum. “You’re too smart for your own good, Press.”

“That’s what happens when you go to Stanford.” Christen teases, knowing your distain towards the school, you yourself having gone to Cal.

“Whatever.” You mumble under your breath, earning a small giggle from the other woman.

You park the car and race around to open Christen’s door for her. “M’lady.” You say with a fake posh British accent, as you hold your hand out for her to take.

“Why thank you.” She blushes, responding with her own accent.

As you open the trunk and pull out the things for your picnic, Christen’s eyes soften and feels her whole body flush with a warmth she could only describe as love.

“(Y/N/N),” she gasps, “what is all of this for?”

Closing the trunk, you give her a goofy grin. “What? I have to have a reason to spoil my girlfriend and take her on a romantic picnic on the beach?”

“I mean— no.” Christen’s cheeks tint pink.

“That’s what I thought.” You throw her a wink. “Now, c’mon, this food won’t eat itself!”

The two of you make your way down onto the beach, finding the perfect spot where there weren’t very many people. After you finish setting up the blanket and pillows and unpack the picnic basket, Christen snaps a photo of the serene setting, as the sun is almost setting.

“Chris, come join me!” You wave over your girlfriend, who notices that you’re now sitting on the blanket, snacking on some grapes.

The forward slips off her shoes and takes a seat next to you, sinking her toes in the sand.

“This is amazing, (Y/N).” Christen intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “Thank you for this, and this entire day really. I don’t know what I did to deserve it.”

“Just being you, Chris. You deserve the world.” You smile softly. “Annnddd, I figured since we’ve been apart for so long, this was the least I could do.”

“Well, thank you, again.”

You lean in to give her a sweet kiss. “Anytime, babe.” And Christen could tell by your voice, and just from knowing you, that you truly did mean any time, that you would do anything for her because she would do anything for you.

Watching the sunset, the two of you snack on the food and sip on the wine you’d brought, conversing about plans for the holidays and the upcoming Olympics.

At the break of your conversations, as you sit in silence, watching the waves crash and the last rays of sun reflect across the water, you feel your phone buzz. Checking the screen, you see it’s a text from Megan, and you chuckle in amusement but also in confusion.

“Chris, do you know why Pinoe texted me saying: ‘Thanks for making me look bad with all your romantic gestures. Now Sue is badgering me, asking why I never do stuff like that for her.’?”

“Um, I have no idea.” Christen looks down, suddenly finding the sand incredibly interesting.

“Hmm, okay.” You eye your girlfriend suspiciously, as you text your teammate back, asking her what she’s talking about. Seconds later, you get a response telling you to check Christen’s Instagram story. Opening the app, you click on your girlfriend’s posts and notice she’s documented the activities throughout your day, from breakfast in bed to painting Bob Ross to your romantic picnic.

Looking up from your phone, you turn to Christen and see she’s still fiddling with the grains of sand.

“Chris?” You gently coax. “Is this what Pinoe was talking about?”

She nods, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” you grab her hands, guiding her to look at you, “I’m not mad at you, baby, not at all.”

You weren’t angry or upset with her for posting those pictures, as your relationship wasn’t a secret to anybody, but you knew this wasn’t like Christen at all. You knew your girlfriend was a very private person, not one to post or flaunt your relationship on social media, and you respected her decisions and boundaries, being a somewhat conserved person as well.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” You continue, gently brushing a loose hair out of her face. “What brought this on?”

Christen murmurs something under her breath.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.”

She takes a deep breath and repeats herself. “I wanted to show everyone that you’re mine. I know it’s stupid, but I was a jealous of Sofia and how you two got to spend so much time together. And I know that you would never ever cheat on me, I know that, (Y/N), but it just sucked that I couldn’t be with you for the past two months, so I just wanted to show people that—“

You bring your girlfriend’s face closer to yours and kiss her, cutting off her rambling. Leaning your forehead against hers, you look deeply into her eyes.

“I love you, Christen. And being away from you for these past two months absolutely sucked because you’re my home, Chris, as cheesy as that sounds it’s true. I’m sorry if I did anything to make you feel like I was ignoring you by spending time with Sofia. I love you and only you.”

Christen shakes her head. “No, (Y/N), you didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. I was just frustrated by this whole pandemic and not being able to spend time with you.”

“Me too, Chris, me too.” You pepper her face with kisses, causing her to throw her head back giggling.

“And I’m sorry if me posting stuff from our day made you uncomfortable.” Christen apologizes sincerely, before nudging you with a slight smirk on her face. “I just wanted to show off my amazing romantic girlfriend to the world.”

You let out a hearty laugh. “I don’t mind being shown off, babe, not at all.”

“Good, because I plan on doing it for a long time. You’re stuck with me.” She sticks out her tongue at you, earning a fond smile.

“Lucky me.”

[imagineredwood]

I feel like after sons the writers were so happy they didn’t have to keep writing diversity in lmaoo, like sons covered bunch of different gangs so there was lots of racial diversity but Mayans is mostly brown people(which is how it should be if not all) and all the white people they could find. Like I’m sorry but the whole cast of side characters looks like a snow bank. Sons did a good job of showing you how diverse the people in proximity with them were. In Mayans the only people within reaching distance are white. Like there’s no one else around to interact with(other than that cop and Juan Denver I guess).

So, I have thoughts about this because I've seen it said a couple of times and I feel like people aren't really seeing the bigger picture, so buckle up because it's long.

The main one being that Elgin James had nothing to do with SOA. Mayans is in the same universe as SOA, but it's not the same story. It's a different culture telling a different story, with a different focus, due to different experiences in this country. A difference is also that Kurt was the one responsible for the creative process regarding SOA. So all of the racism, sexism, rape culture, transphobia, homophobia was from Sutter's vision, not Elgins.

Now. The 'diversity in SOA was never really there for diversity. It was there for plot. The Grim Bastards were there to make it seem like the club wasn't as racist as it actually was because "Hey look, we have black friends" talking about their long-established history while simultaneously talking down on them. The 9'ers, same shit. Prentinging to be cordial, only to try and pin them for something they didn't do because they played into the angry black man stereotype, Clay's exact words. Weston was a white supremacist. We know that. Anyone who watched for 10 minutes knew that. That was well established for his storyline. It really wasn't necessary for Sutter to make Weston's chest tattoo a part of the costume design, but he did.

Then they had "relationships" with the Mayans back and forth all the while calling them Spics. So is that added diversity, or is one more avenue for Sutter to include white men looking down on those around them who aren't white?

Then there was the Triad, same thing, Chibs' character references them by calling them "r*ce m*nkeys" so again, was it diversity because they wanted to show diversity and create that atmosphere? Or diversity because...you get the idea.

So that's one thing from a writing standpoint. Sutter was going for a shock value based show that was going to give white Americans a hard on and it did. What better way to bring shock value than to be racist at every turn presented and play on bigotry? Elgin is trying to tell the stories of what Latino MC culture is like along with what the Latino experience is like in this country period. He's not trying to shock the viewers or be named the most controversial show; he's storytelling.

Then there's the fact that communities usually tend to have people within them that look alike, and the smaller the town, the truer that is. People will naturally congregate together with those they have the most in common with. The bigger a city, the more diverse. The smaller a city, usually the more uniform their demographics are. So then speaking on demographics, let's get into demos for the areas that the shows are based around. For the record "Charming" doesn't exist, it's a fictitious place for SOA, however, its general real-life area where it was shot at is San Joaquin County, California. So let's look at the demographics for that location.

It's got a fair bit of diversity in the sense that it's spread out. Disproportionate sure, but the demos are relatively spread out. So the diversity that we see in SOA having been filmed in San Joa county is relatively accurate. The Mayans in that 42.0%, 9'ers and Grim Bastards in the 8.3%, The Triad in the 17.4%, etc.

Now let's look at Calexico, which is the bordering town between the Mexican and Californian wall where Mayans is based.

Not much diversity. Why? Many of the people who live in the Calexico area are Mexican and other Latinx people who have immigrated from Mexico and are just trying to get by and live better lives. Many stay in that area so that it's easy for them to go back and see their families, sometimes at the wall itself if either side is unable to cross. Calexico isn't really a place where people just...go. People that are there are usually there because again, either their family has been there and they never moved, or they're staying there to be closer to their loved ones across the border. There are always exceptions, but that's the basis. So you've got the Latinos that live there...and then you have border patrol and the police force that get their rocks off by going after Brown people for a living. Those are the main two groups present. So Mayans, like SOA, has stuck to being realistic in regards to showcasing the demographics and population in which their shows were filmed. Charming was realistic to San Joa Valley and Mayans to Calexico.

So all of that being said, I don't really understand why Mayans keeps being put under a microscope. I mean xenophobia is why, but I don't get why it can't just be enjoyed and had to be directed when SOA checked every morally void box there was and just got a pass. Mayans MC is scrutinized more than SOA ever was and it just gets a little frustrating after a while. I think it's amazing that Elgin and the cast were given the ability to tell these stories that so many of us in the Latinx community understand and resonate with, and they do it beautifully, but it always seems like there's a reason people want to drag it. I'm not saying that's what you're doing, but that's what keeps happening and it's bothersome. Mayans is supposed to be a spin-off of SOA showcasing life for a Mexican American MC and that's exactly what it's doing. It's doing what it set out to do, and some people are still tearing it apart for things that are realistic.

The diversity on SOA was performative so it could get people talking about it, just like Venus' inclusion was performative. Mayans isn't trying to do that. It's taking Latinx men and women and showing their lives within the Latinx community and the struggles that we face within that community. It's giving Latinx viewers something of our own, but it gets dragged like never before. We're just trying to enjoy this piece of representation that we were given and it's being clouded and tainted by the constant criticism that I never saw SOA get and frankly still doesn't get outside of this community it seems. I don't really know what else to say.

[ssamie]

nine. SOFT

suna rintaro x fem! mitsuri reader

(kny x hq)

warnings: spelling mistakes,  2k+ words, italicized words/ sentences are her thoughts, mitsuri’s hair+eye color was used.

gen masterlist.      sakura mochi.

"suna-kun, what is this for, exactly?" she hummed curiously as she held onto his hair 

"f-for my strength of course" suna replied. he was currently tasked to do a hundred pushups by kita after lazing off at practice for way too many times. and he, for some reason, found it a good idea to make her sit on his back as he does this. 

there was really no telling what ran through suna's mind when he thought it would do him well to have her weighing him down

"but wouldn't your arms hurt from carrying me?" she asked with worry lacing her tone as she prompts to stand up 

"no, no. stay there." suna demanded as he pulled her back down on his back 

"well, im not really the lightest girl on the planet, so this may be really hard for you.. and it's extremely embarrassing for me" she muttered with a frown "and shouldn't i be sitting closer to your lower back?" she asks "this position will give you bad backaches" 

she gestured to herself, as she sat on his upper back, way too close to his shoulder blades, while her legs were slung over his shoulders 

"im likely to be quite heavier than most girls since my body mass is quite higher than normal, given the muscles that i train" she said "plus.. my more fatty areas if you may" she mumbled as she cleared her throat and nervously hugged her chest 

"no, no. you're perfectly fine the way you are, bunny" suna dismissed her self-deprecating comments with a scoff 

"besides this keeps me motivated" he mumbled out with a content sigh as he pushed her thighs closer to his face

her hand lightly gripped his hair as she let him squish his face with her thighs. "i don't really get how this is motivating" she chuckled sheepishly

"of course you wouldn't, you're not the one feeling bliss right now" suna said, though his words were slightly muffled "alright then.." she nodded with a bit of hesitance as she felt him tremble a concerning amount 

"um. suna-kun, if you think your arms are about to give out, then maybe we should stop for now" she suggested with a smile as she tries to stand up from his back 

"nah, i can do this bunny" he declined in a nonchalant tone 

"suna , what the hell are you doing?" aran sweat dropped as he entered the gym "oh! he's doing the punishment push-ups, aran-kun" she explained with a smile as suna shakily lifts himself up once more "yeah i get that but-" 

"OI, SUNARIN! WHAT DO YOU THINK YER DOING?!" atsumu yelled as he hurriedly ran towards y/n. the blond picked her up from her armpits and carefully lowered her to the ground 

"ah, that's it. the motivation's gone. i can't do this anymore" suna sulked as he let himself drop facedown on the ground "eh? is your face okay?" she asked worriedly as suna rolled over, showing his forehead which had a reddish bruise forming 

"no." suna responded 

"good afternoon everyone, what happened here?" kita asked them as he entered the gym "suna-kun lost his motivation" she replied with a frown as she stared down at the brunette 

"i see." kita hummed in response "but that still doesn't excuse him from the punishment." 

"cruel" suna mumbled from the ground 

"ah, don't worry! i'll do the rest for you" she said with a bright smile as she gets down on the ground beside him "no, no. i don't think it works like that, y/n" aran dismissed her suggestion as he picks her up from the ground 

"its fine! he only had to do eighty more, after all" she chuckled as she waved her hand dismissively "i can do it quite quickly" 

"y/n-san, you shouldn't face his punishments for him." kita told her with a furrowed brows "after all, you've been a great manager to us, so you don't have to do anything but relax for now" 

she frowned from his words and gingerly poked suna's chest, seeing as he was making no effort to move from the ground "but then suna-kun might get too tired to hang out with me later.." she muttered sulkingly as she fiddled with the ends of her braids 

"yeah, kita-san" suna mused with an exaggerated pout and puppy eyes "i might not have enough energy to hang out with her" 

"suna, you monster" aran snickered as he watched kita have a crisis in his head 

"i.. i see." kita muttered in defeat "you can do what you want" 

"but you really don't have to-" 

"okay, it's your turn to get on my back then, suna-kun!" she said with a smile as she got in a push-up formation "huh? is that really necessary, bunny?" suna gulped nervously "you may not be able to carry me-" 

"alright!" she cut him off as she abruptly pulled him down to sit on her, "tsumu-kun, count for us please!" 

"right right!" atsumu nodded in excitement as he got down to cheer her on 

"you see this, samu?! y/n-chan could probably do this better than you!" atsumu laughed tauntingly 

"hah?! she's probably also better than you, fatsack!" osamu yelled back in aggravation 

"hah?! well atleast i'm better than you!" atsumu defended "we'll see about that" osamu scowled as he got down on the ground beside her 

"fine then, i'll just join to prove you wrong!" atsumu huffed as he too got ready to do push-ups 

"theres more of us now! that's great!" she cheered cluelessly as she gave the twins a grin "alright, i'll count" suna mused as he pulled out his phone to take a video 

"ready, set, go!" and thus, what was supposed to be a punishment had turned into a competition. 

"h-how many have we done?!" atsumu wheeze out as he felt his arms start to tremble "hm, about a hundred and fifty maybe" she answered him with a hum as she continued to push her self up and down from the ground 

"that's way more than needed!" atsumu whined 

"you could always give up if you can't do it, tsumu!" osamu taunted his twin, even though he was facing some troubles as well. 

"hmph, as if! this is easy!" atsumu boasted with a grin "i could do this in my sleep" 

"im glad to hear that, tsumu-kun!" she beamed happily "shall we do another hundred then?" 

atsumu's face dropped as she heard those words leave her mouth. his skin was turning ghostly pale as he nervously laughed in response. "a-another hundred?" he squeaked out 

"yep! suna-kun seems to be enjoying this quite a lot, after all" she said with a smile as she looked at the brunette 

suna was currently taking way too many selfies, which were all taken at a facebook mom angle, while he throws up peace signs and flipping off the twins "alright, now here we see the miya twins getting absolutely bodied by y/n." suna sneered to the camera as he zoomed in on the twins' faces 

"look at her! look at her go!" suna cheered with a playful smirk as he patted y/n's braided locks 

"the absolute best. spectacular. amazing. never been seen before. better than all of you." suna listed out

"yuh, get it best friend" suna chuckled as the twins finally gave up and let themselves drop on the ground 

"ah, over already?" she said "usually i would have to do a thousand for our typical training session with my friends" 

"your friends are not normal! who the heck does that?!" atsumu shrieked in horror "well, it doesn't matter now, doesn't it?" she laughed carefreely "you both did a very nice job!" 

she patted their heads with a proud smile as she handed them two towels to wipe off their sweat "thanks" the twins mumbled out with a droopy smile as they relished in her sweet and gentle touches 

"anyways.." she said as she abruptly retracted her hands, much to their displeasure, and turned to face suna "suna-kun, we can hang out now, now that that's done" she said in an eager tone as she excitedly rocked her heels back and forth 

"yup. thanks again bunny" suna said as he slung his arm around her shoulders "but you really didn't have to do that for me" he said with a lazy hum as he led her to the benches 

"oh, it's fine. it was honestly pretty easy-" 

she cut herself off as she was met with suna's face inching closer to her, while his hand reaches out to hold the side of her head "eh?" she squeaked out as she blinked to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.

'is he.. is he gonna kiss me?'   she thought to herself 

'im not ready!'  she panicked as she felt her face start to get hotter 

'no, no. im ready! i've been dreaming of this!'  she pondered with determination 

'suna-kun is gonna kiss me!'  she squealed internally  

'then afterwards, we can get married and live together and have a family of bunnies and hamsters! maybe we can adopt tanjiro and nezuko too-' 

"your hair's all messy" suna mumbled as he grazed his fingers through the long braid before finally taking the hair tie off at the ends 

"ah." she huffed out with a blank smile 

she sat still as he took off her other hair tie and started undoing and untangling her braids, leaving her long and thick pink and green hair flowing down in pretty waves upon her back

"turn around for me, bunny" suna commanded in a whisper as he patted her waist to turn "o-okay" she replied nervously as she obediently turned around and kept her hands on her lap 

"your hair's so pretty, bunny" suna whispered to her ear as he started combing his fingers through her soft locks "really? thank you, suna-kun" she mumbled out in gratitude as she flusteredly rubbed her hands and thighs together 

"and your hair colour's so adorable. makes you look so cute" suna cooed as he played with the ends of her hair 

"r-right.." she mumbled quietly as she covered her reddened face with her hands. silence had washed upon them along with the various voices of the team as suna started braiding one side of her head 

"where did you learn how to braid, suna-kun?" she asked in curiosity as she held down the other half of her hair "my sister made me do her hair all the time, so i just got better as time went by" suna explained with a shrug 

"can't say her hair was as nice as yours though" suna sighed "it was like a rat's nest with all the knots" 

her eyes shined in adoration as she heard his adorable reason. she gripped her pounding chest as hearts start surrounding her form "suna-kun, that's so sweet!" she squealed "i never expected that from you!" 

"guess so, hm?" suna mumbled out nonchalantly as he tied her hair in place 

'ah, just as i'd thought' she thought to herself 

'he's the perfect husband after all!'  she cried happily in her mind

"anyways, what'd you wanna do?" he asks her as he proceeded to braid the other side "hm, we could go to the same place kiyoomi-kun and i went to yesterday!" she suggested with a grin 

"he liked it, so im hoping you would as well" she hummed happily as suna ties the end of her braid 

"is that so?" suna hummed "where is this exactly?" he asked "its a secret hideout!" she said "but.. its only a wisteria garden and a private teahouse" she admitted 

"theres also a koi pond by the back, but kiyoomi-kun wasn't able to see it" she said "i was hoping to save it for you" she admitted bashfully 

"for.. me?" suna muttered in surprise 

"yeah.. i went there last night to prepare you food so we can eat by the pond and watch the sunset.." she mumbled "but i was also thinking of doing it at night since the fireflies would light our surroundings and it would look really pretty.." she hummed dreamily 

suna blinked dumbfoundedly as he listened to her ramble on and on about their planned hangout 

"but we could also-oh im sorry" she cut herself off with a nervous laugh "was i talking too much?" she asked nervously "sorry if i talked too much!" 

"people say i never shut up, so you can tell me when i'm annoying you" she waved her hands dismissively "you're not annoying me, bunny" suna said with a sigh 

he took her shaking hands in his and pulled her up to her feet. "let's go have that picnic you planned out, yeah?" suna asked with a small smile "wouldn't wanna let your efforts go to waste" he chuckled 

"okay.." she muttered as she hung her head low. her cheeks flushed a dark pink as she nipped at her lips to calm herself and her pounding heart. 

"y'know, your hands are really soft, y/n" suna said as he brought her hand up to his line of sight to further inspect it 

"a-ahm! please don't do that!" she laughed sheepishly as she retracted her hand and hid it behind her back "why? what's wrong, bunny?" suna asked worriedly as he stopped in his tracks to look at her 

"well, my hands aren't the prettiest so you shouldn't look at them for too long" she said with a shaky smile. suna furrowed his brows and frowned as he listened to her awfully degrading words. 

"they're the prettiest, bunny. i don't get what you're talking about" he said 

"well, my hands are super scarred because if sword fighting, and they're very nasty to look at" she said as she rocked on her heels "or so i've been told.." she muttered 

suna sighed and slumped his shoulders, stuffing his own hands in his pockets as they quietly continued on their way. her usual smile wasn't present as she kept her vision straight ahead. her hands stayed hidden behind her back as well. 

suna slyly side eyed her, debating in his head on what he would do, before coming to conclusion with a sigh "c'mon, im in the mood to eat" he said with a yawn 

he grabbed her hand and stuffed it in his pocket alongside with his. his thumb lightyly rubbing shapes on the scarred skin. 

'what is he doing?'  she thought to herself 

her eyes glistened as she put her other hand over her chest, her heart beating more erratically than before. "if we do this, you won't feel sad anymore right?" suna muttered as he looked away to avoid eyecontact 

"i think so.." she mumbled in reply 

"alright then, its settled" suna huffed out. "were walking like this starting now, kay?" 

"that way no one'll see your hands since you don't like it" he said. his olive green eyes peered at her as he put up a nonchalant facade to throw her off. 

'he's doing this all for me?'  she thought to herself 

'wow.. suna-kun really is the best' 

she smiled happily as she scooted closer to his side. suna sighed in relief as the skip in her step finally came back, as well as the sweet melody she always seems to hum. 

"are you happy now, bunny?" he asked her 

"yeah! and it's all thanks to you, suna-kun!" she said as she swayed her other hand back and forth while the other stays intertwined with his 

"glad i could help, bunny" 

"so this is giyuu's fish, and that one's rengoku-san's, that white one with red spot is uzui-kun's" she listed out 

"muichiro-kun's fish is dead because he forgot about it and it starved to death" she said 

"and this is mine!" she said as she pointed to a certain koi fish in the pond 

"i have no idea who those people are, but let me see yours.." suna scooted closer to the water and watched as the fish followed her finger, which she swirled around the water 

"i named him koi" she said with a smile as she lifted the fish out of the water "you named the koi fish koi?" suna sweat dropped 

"yup! and also because it means love" she explained "obanai-kun helped me name it.. he said it suited me as the owner" 

"it does suit you" he agreed with a nod 

"anyways, you better put him back or he'll die" suna said as he pointed to the fish in her palms which was flapping around in discomfort 

"ah! im sorry, koi-chan!!" she exclaimed as she gently placed it down on the pond "i forgot you can't breathe here!" she cried out as she leaned down to pet it gently with her finger 

"have some mochi!" she squeaked out in distress as she tried to feed it a whole ball of sakura mochi. she panicked even more as the fish declined her offering and opted to swim away 

"eh?! you don't like it?! are you mad at me?" she sulked as she gloomily placed the mochi on a lily pad and let it float away 

suna chuckled and pulled her back by her arm, letting her rest her back on his chest as she continued to sulk "you're adorable, bunny" he muttered with a soft laugh as he rested his chin on the crown of her head 

'so soft.'  suna thought to himself as he wrapped his arms around her.

"sorry about that, suna-kun" she said "koi-chan might hate me if i don't leave him some mochi on his lily pad like usual"

"though im starting to think he doesn't actually eat it and oba-chan just takes it out by morning.." she mumbled "hmm, im sure he eats it with his fish friends." suna said as to entertain her

"but now, we have to eat as well" he said as he took a mochi and shoved it in her mouth

"mmhm. thwanks suna-kun" she said through muffled words as she chewed the gummy treat. suna simply peered down at her, watching her eat with a single thought causing his mind to go in a frenzy

"should i do it.." he pondered out loud as he hesitantly brought his hands up to her face

"hm? do what- eh?" she blinked dumbly and looked up at him with curious doe eyes "what're you doing, suna-kun?" she asked him 

"hmm.. soft." he mumbled 

she blinked cluelessly as he kept on squishing and massaging her cheeks, lightly pinching the soft and plump tissue with a look of amazement 

"so soft." he mumbled once again as he pinched them one last time 

"hm.. what else should we do?" she asked him as she scooted away from him to face him properly. she smiled nervously as suna kept staring at her with his olive green eyes. 

his expression stayed monotonous, almost like he didn't care, but the bright and flowery aura surrounded him, said otherwise.

"should we walk home or take the train?" she asked him "the miya's residence and your home isn't really that far away, right?" she pondered 

"though, i don't want you to tire yourself out by walking" she said in concern "sorry, am i talking too much again?" she asked with an apologetic smile as she realised he still hasn't responded or moved an inch from his initial position 

"its fine, bunny." he spoke "i think i wanna walk home with you" he said as he stood up from the ground and dusted the bottom of his sweatpants 

"i'd like to hold your hand again" he admitted through a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head 

"eh? really?" she asked in disbelief 

"of course" suna reassured her "though, after this i'd like to see you training with a sword." he said "it'd be cool seeing you swing it around and deck some guys, yeah?" suna mused as he looked around the wisteria covered path 

"really? would you like to visit the dojo with me sometime?" she asked excitedly with a grin 

"sure, bunny" 

"i'd also like to meet whoever said your hands were ugly. i'll beat them up."

"ah, there's no need to" she chuckled nervously 

"so.." suna trailed off "wanna hold hands again?" 

"yes please."

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Emergency! Part 2

Part 2 – Accidents

Summary: Dean and Cas of Squad 51 discover Dr. Kline involved in a car accident. The car accident killed another driver involved, but orphans the daughter. The Reader has to cancel her and Dean’s date night for her to go into work. Squad 51 is on the rescue again, a house fire. The night begins to calm down, Dean is off finally and heads to the reader’s house for much needed R n R.

Warnings: Smut (P in V, Protected and Unprotected sex (always use a condom)), Language, Dirty talk, Car accidents, scary situations, mild angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,925

Mobile Masterlist

Emergency! Masterlist

a/n: The timing of these is not a daily event, it can bee weeks/months apart. Sadly, I’m jumping it ahead, I just don’t know how far ahead. Joys of me being creative.

~

They sat on his couch, starting out watching Netflix. Then it turned into a make out session.

Their lips danced with one another, their tongues gliding across one another.

Her hands guided down his chest and stomach.

The mere contact caused a moan to escape his throat to which she swallowed down.

They pulled away finally for air, their lips plump and swollen.

“If we keep this up, I’m not gonna last.”

“Neither am I, Dean. I’m getting to the point I want you in me, and fuck me so hard…”

His lips crashed into hers once again, only kissing her harshly quick. He pulled away.

“Keep talking dirty like that sweetheart, and maybe I will.” He growled.

“Fuck me Dean, I want you in me, now.”

He picked her up, kissing her again. Her legs wrapped around his middle as he carried her to his room.

“As you wish sweetheart.” He says between kisses.

 Jack Kline, one of Rampart Emergency hospital’s youngest doctors. He does specialize in surgeries, baby deliveries, and even orthopedics. He does a little of everything at the hospital.

He drove down a residential street to get to work. He approached a four way stop. The intersection was pretty empty. He was the only one there. He looked both ways, despite cars parked on the curbs, and the summer season with the trees low branches fully bloomed of vibrant green leaves, he could see no car coming down from either direction. Determining it clear, he slowly accelerates. Only to be hit on the passenger side, the impact hard enough to knock him out.

 Dean slowly pulled out of her, her legs trembling from the sheer force of her climax slowly calming down.

“You okay sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Oh yeah. More than okay.” She hums.

He smiles, and works out of the used condom to throw it away.

He heard her phone vibrate on the nightstand next to them.

She groaned.

“I got it for you.” He says. Getting up to get it. He hit answer.

“Y/N Y/L/N’s phone, Dean speaking.” He answered.

“Hi, my name is Dr. Singer, tell Ms. Y/L/N we need her to come in if possible.”

“Sure thing, I’ll let her know.”

The phone call ended quickly.

“Work?” she asked.

“Yeah, Dr. Singer, they need you to come in.”

“He didn’t say why?”

“No, because I’m not you.”

“Well, I’ll shower really quick and then I better go.”

 She gone into work, heading for Bobby’s office.

“What’s up Bobby?” she asked walking in.

“I called you in here because, one someone called in and two…Jack was involved in a car accident.”

“How is he?”

“Just some bumps, bruises, minor cuts. Nothing major. But the other car, the driver died on the scene, and orphaned a seven-year-old girl.”

“Does he know?”

“He doesn’t. I almost don’t want to tell him because he will beat himself up over it.”

“We all beat ourselves up over loss. It’s normal. But he needs to know the accident wasn’t his fault. My brother’s a cop, he said the accident wasn’t his fault. That driver ran a stop sign and caused a chain reaction.”

“Still, you know how Dr. Kline can be.”

She nods.

“Now, your just doing Nurse Ruby’s 6am-6pm shift. She was scheduled to be in the ICU working the Eastern halls, you better head up there.”

“Will do, see you later.”

Bobby waves her off with a kind smile.

 Back at Station 51 the very next day, Dean came in at his usual time. So far a quiet morning.

“So how are you settling at the new place Cas?”

“It’s great, closer to the station, it has extra room. My neighbors are pretty friendly. One of them, Meg, she happens to work with Y/N at the hospital.”

“Wow, small world.”

“Yeah. How about you? How’d your date with Y/N go last night?”

“She had to go into work, a nurse called in. She called me on her break letting me know that. But the date went well.”

“Think there’ll be another date for you guys?”

“She and I are planning on seeing a movie tomorrow night since I’m off two days.”

“You two, I swear are meant to be.”

“We’ve only had two dates Cas, slow down.” Dean chuckled.

The stations alarm going off.

“Station 51, Squad 51, Station 64 Squad 64, and station 72, structure fire. 623 North Lions street.” Said over the alarm’s intercom.

“Here we go, another one.” Cas says, jumping into action, running to the squad truck.

“Another one.” Dean says. Getting in the driver seat roaring the engine to life and everyone in the station left to the location.

 “Jack, it was not your fault.” Bobby tried to soothe the young doctor.

“But a girl is orphaned because of me.”

“Because of her dad driving recklessly. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Y/N pitched in. “My brother said he ran a stop sign according to eyewitnesses in the area. He was speeding, and ran a stop sign.”

“We can fix wounds as if they were nothing. But how can we fix this? How can I fix this?”

“You’re not gonna let this go are you?” Bobby groaned.

“Not until I know someone can take care of this girl.”

“I’ll go make calls, you go home Kline, you need to rest.” Bobby insisted firmly.

“But—”

“Jack, go home. We got this.” Y/N says.

“Fine, just, call me. Keep me in the loop. Please.”

“We will, no go home and rest man.” Y/N says as Bobby left the office.

Jack left with a slump in his shoulders, as he walked back out of the hospital to take a cab home.

“Who told him? I knew this would happen if he found out.” Bobby asked.

“Think it was Abaddon. Don’t think she was thinking it through, as always.”

“How’d she find out in the first place?”

“She stood outside your office when I saw you the other day. My guess she overheard.”

“I’m gonna have a talk with her, she needs to watch it, or it could lead to major HIPPA Violations.”

“Alright, well, my shift is technically over, and my three day weekend starts. Need me for anything before I go?”

“No, go home, rest up. have a great weekend.”

“Bye Bobby, see you Monday.”

But she couldn’t make it out the door fast enough when a squad brought in a familiar face.

“Cas?!”

“We had a fire, a back draft shot him across the property.”

“What are his vitals?” she asked, kicking back into nurse mode.

“BP 130 over 85, breathing labored and shallow,” Dean began reading off of his chart. “Head injury sustained, pupils uneven and dilated.”

The emergency medical staff managed to cut Cas out of his clothes. And she saw a bruise right around his ribs.

“Possible broken ribs, get him x-rayed, and lets get other scans to find any bleeding. Especially of his head. Stat, go.” Y/N ordered.

The medical team taking Cas to radiology to get scans necessary to find anything else wrong so they can work on fixing him up.

Y/N turned her attention to Dean.

“Dean, are you okay?”

“He knocked me out of the way, Gabe opened a door, we thought the fire was under control. And he knocked me out of the way just as the backdraft happened.”

“Dean, he’s fine. Just banged up. It could have been worse, but it’s not. He’s fine.”

“Son,” John says, tearing the couple’s attention.

He saw Dean’s distraught expression as his son turned to face him.

“Y/N, can you take him home. I can have Michael drive the squad back to the station. But I don’t want him alone tonight.”

She nods. “I can do that Mr. Winchester.”

“Please, call me John. And thank you.”

She managed to guide Dean to her car, and she drove them to Dean’s house.

 “Jack, I have good news.” Bobby says.

“What’s that?”

“That girl, she has an aunt that lives up north. She’s coming down to pick up her niece. She got full custody of her yesterday.”

“That’s good, at least she has family to take care of her.”

“It is.”

“’Scuse me.” A sweet girl’s voice was heard behind the doctors.

“Hi sweetie, how are you doing?”

“Good, I heard I’m gonna live with my aunt. I’m just so happy and I just want to say thank you.”

“Thank you? Really?” Jack asked.

“Yes, my dad wasn’t a good dad. He was mad at me for getting an D on my report card, he hit me a few times and we were going home.”

“Did everyone in your family know your dad abused you like that?”

“Yes, my aunt always threatened to take me away from daddy if he hit me again or hurt me again.”

“Then I’m glad to know you’re going to be safe from here on out.” Jack says with a smile.

The girl smiles back and gives the young doctor a hug.

“Thank you again doctor.” She says sweetly.

“It’s no problem sweetheart.”

 Just as Y/N and Dean turned in for the night, Dean lied down flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Dean,” she says quietly. “You okay?”

“That could have been me.” He says just above a whisper.

“But it wasn’t, and you know he’s going to be fine. Meg updated me and Cas is going to be okay.”

He nods.

She turned towards Dean, kissing him on his cheek, then down to his jaw line.

He closed his eyes to her giving him this attention.

Just as her lips pulled away, he turned his head to her meeting her lips with his in a sweet kiss.

Their lips moved in perfect sync with each other.

Dean moved, hovering over her, his hips between her legs, humping against her clothed core. Pulling a moan out of her.

“I need you sweetheart.” He says quietly.

“I’m here baby, you’ll always have me.” She says, bringing him down to kiss her more, deepening the kiss.

He worked his boxers off of him, she also worked out of her panties.

He lined at her entrance, and gave her a glance.

“I’m on the pill, you’re good.”

He slowly pushed the head of his half hard cock through her soaking folds until he was fully seated in her.

Their lips meet again in a loving kiss as they slowly moved against each other. His hips guiding him out slightly with each thrust. Hitting her sweet spot with calculated and angled thrusts.

She met up with his slow pace, a thin sheen of sweat building on both of their faces and bodies.

His pace began to speed up just as his breathing picked up as well.

Her hips were beginning to jump out of rhythm.

Their lips pulled away, but only slightly, just ghosting over the surface as their breathing began to pick up faster.

“Dean,” she whined.

“I’m almost there, I got you baby girl.”

With three more thrusts her walls clamped down hard around him, milking him of his release. Their thrusts slowing, getting them through their high.

His hips came to a stop, still fully seating in her as he rested on his elbows, brushing her hair from her sweaty face.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m so good, you?”

“Better, now that I’m with you.”

“Get some rest Winchester, I’m not going anywhere.” She says, holding him close. Feeling him relax in her hold as they cuddled.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too Dean.”

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @evansrogerskitten, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @akshi8278, @lyarr24, @anotherspnfanfic​, @flamencodiva​, 

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/20/2021

[americas-golden-boy]

Operation Merry and Bright

Summary: Sam Wilson is many things.

Highly trained former United States Air Force pararescue airman, Avenger, and above all else:

Expert matchmaker.

AKA the power of Christmas traditions bringing together Bucky and the girl from down the hall.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Word Count:  2,161

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Bucky.  It’s uh...” he trailed off, pushing a hand through his hair before dropping it to rest on his hip, head hanging slightly as if it’ll hide the wave of embarrassment that he’s feeling from the A.I., “It’s November, right?”

“Yes, sir.  It is November 13, 2017, your name is James Buchanan Barnes, you were born on March 10, 1917, you are in the Avengers Tower—“

“I’m okay, F.R.I.D.A.Y., thank you,” he cut her off, the corners of his lips curling at her reassurance.

Even with the trigger words safely removed from his consciousness along with the rest of HYDRA’s programming, it was still a long road to recovery dealing with the aftermath of his time as the Winter Soldier.  Nightmares were a regular occurrence, his training was always pushing at the back of his mind, and on rare occasions his memories would lapse, leaving him confused and disoriented.

At times like these, F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s programmed response to his mounting distress, if he was alone, was to recite facts, beginning with grounding him in the present and becoming more detailed as she progressed.  The last time he had snapped back into his mind was to her reciting a recipe for plum cobbler, something he had built up the courage to ask her for in preparation for the team dinner around Thanksgiving.

He found it almost sweet that on more than one occasion, such as just now, she did it even when he spoke to her directly, despite the realistic probability that he would recognize her in that state being close to zero.

Even for an A.I., she had enough sass and sarcastic wit to stand on par with her creator, and she still met every random question and whim he had with seemingly unlimited amounts of patience and understanding.  

Which, he supposed, she could really have.

He hadn’t forgotten the date, though.  Or at least he was relatively sure he hadn’t.  He figured it couldn’t hurt to check, but with that simple piece of information, he just found himself terribly, incredibly confused.

Because hanging from the ceiling, right in the middle of the hallway leading from the common area to his suite, was a mistletoe bunch.

Even with Stark’s eccentric party planning at every opportunity, not a single Christmas decoration had made its way to the residential floors yet.  Not on any of the floors, probably, but he hadn’t made any recent visits to the S.I. or R&D sections of the building, both out of a lack of necessity and a personal mission to avoid social interaction when at all possible.

As he shifts his weight to his other leg, arms coming to cross over his chest with a soft huff, he sifts through his recent memories, trying to determine the most likely culprits with a motive to hang up the offending piece of greenery.

“It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, where did they find this thing?” He questions aloud, thankful that no one else is around to see how ridiculous the whole situation is, even before he started talking to empty space, and even more so that F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn’t answer his rhetorical question.

I should take this down, she's in this hall too, it might make her uncomfortable, he thinks idly, moving under the bundle to inspect how it was suspended from the ceiling, muscles stiffening as soon as he fully processes the thought.

Could it be for you?  There’s really no evidence that it’s for him at all when he thinks about it objectively, and he really wouldn’t put it past a few of the other people on the team to hang it up as an excuse to see you flustered, or some setup to an elaborate prank, something he knew you’d been victim to more than once.

Almost all of which were headed by the same person.

“Fucking Wilson,” he grumbles under his breath, spinning on his heel to head to the training room and confront the man in question, before promptly rocking back on his other foot to prevent himself from knocking straight into you.

“Sorry!” You squeaked in surprise at the sudden movement and proximity, hand shooting out to grab his arm in an attempt to steady him if he needed it.

He didn’t, but he wobbled a bit longer than necessary to enjoy the feeling of your hand on the plates of his arm.

While Stark and Banner had made some improvements to the limb that HYDRA gave him until a new, upgraded prosthetic could be completed, he was still limited to the basic sensations of pressure and temperature along the surface.  

It made his heart swell every time you touched his left arm, knowing that you weren’t afraid of it and embraced it as just another part of him.  Despite this, he really wished you had grabbed his right, just so he could enjoy the contact of your skin on his.

“That was my fault, I should have heard you coming,” he managed to get out, the slight lift of your brows and the hint of blush spreading across your cheeks equal parts humorous and sweet, as your wide eyes flitted across his form to make sure he was securely planted before slowly releasing your grip.

Would it be too obvious if I just tipped forward?

“Didn’t know I had what it takes to sneak up on a super-soldier.  What did Sam do?” You questioned, slipping back into your easy banter with a small smile.

“Oh, right. I’m actually not sure if it was him yet but um...” he trailed off, foregoing completing his statement in favor of simply pointing above them.

She quirked a brow at him before tilting her head back and shifting her gaze to the ceiling.  

If her expression before had been humorous, this one was simply priceless.  

The blush erupted with renewed force across her cheeks with all the grace of paint splashed across a canvas, lips parting at the sudden drop of her jaw, eyes blinking owlishly before they shifted to focus on him again.

This time he couldn’t hold back the bark of laughter that came out of him, smacking his left hand over his mouth, the slight sting of the impact a punishment for possibly offending her.

“Is that...mistletoe?” She asked slowly, looking back and forth between him and the bundle.

“Yes.”

“In November?”

“That’s what I said.”

“And you think Sam put it there because...?” She trailed off.

“Well, uh, this hallway is just you, me, and him.  I highly doubt it was put there because of me, and he pranks you all the time.  He just seemed like a logical option,” he explains lamely, realizing how weak his logic is when forced to voice it out loud.

“That makes sense, and it probably was Sam, but it’s uh—“ she starts, peering over her shoulder at the end of the hallway— “it’s not for the reason you think,” she finishes, her voice lowering a bit as she fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist, a habit he noticed she had a tendency to do when she was nervous.

“Okay, well, what do you think is the reason he has to hang it up?” He decides on asking, the direct approach seeming like the quickest and most effective way to find answers to the question literally hanging above his head.

“He— Well we—“ she attempts to answer, eyes darting to look anywhere but his face, “We were talking about the holidays a few days ago, right?  And I really love Christmas, it’s probably my favorite holiday.  So we were exchanging stories, things we like about the season.  At some point I, um, I mentioned that I had never been kissed under the mistletoe, and that it was on my bucket list.  He’s the only person that knows that, I think, so, yeah.  It’s probably because of me.”

By the end of her rant the words are coming out in a rush, and she finally manages to meet his eyes again, looking up at him from beneath her lashes, the soft jingle of her charm bracelet drifting in the space between them.

His brain stops functioning.

Not really, he knows what that feels like, but it’s his turn to look dumbly between her and the bunch as he processes her confession.

It’s probably the most endearing thing he’s ever heard her say, and the warm feeling blooming in his chest creeps up the back of his neck in a way that is in no way unpleasant.

What she told him was also in no way an invitation, and he doesn’t even think he’s worthy of taking away an opportunity like that from her, but it doesn’t stop the image of her body pressed against his from pushing to the front of his mind, and the tingle in his neck turns into a burning electric current, shooting straight down his spine to rest in a roiling boil in his belly.

He realizes he’s still staring at her.

“Bucky?” She asks quietly, looking like she wants to melt right through the floor and he could kick himself for putting that doubt in her head.

“Yes, yeah, right.  I would say that’s sweet of him but uh, I doubt he did it with pure intentions.”

She huffs out a laugh and he feels a bit better for relieving at least a bit of her tension.

“Yeah, well, he’s probably making fun of me for being one of the only people that hasn’t done it.  He thinks it’s mostly for kids,” she concedes with another self-deprecating laugh.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he reassures her quickly, stepping closer to place a hand on her upper arm, startling himself with his own sudden movement, smile growing when she relaxes into the contact, “I haven’t either,” he adds on.

Her head snaps up to look at him so fast that he’s momentarily concerned about her neck.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, searching his face like she’ll be able to spot the lie.

“As far as I can remember.  I always spent the Christmas season with Steve and his Ma or my sisters, eating more popcorn than stringing it,” he confirms, chuckling at the memory.

“I thought you were a player in your day,” she teases, gently pulling her lip between her teeth as she grins at him.

“I might’a been,” he concedes, deciding to take the risk and trail his hand down her arm to grab her own, carefully holding it and checking her expression for any sign of discomfort, “but I spent the most wonderful time of the year with the most important people in my life, and if I had a girl I think I really would’a enjoyed the sweet and simple things.”

The smile she gave him nearly took his breath away.  It crinkled the corner of her eyes and shone brightly enough to compete with the star on the top of the Rockefeller Tree.

And in that moment it was just for him.

She slowly reaches up with her free hand and brushes the loose hair behind his ear, palm resting on his cheek with a tender swipe of her thumb.

“Bucky?”

“Mm?” He hums lightly, almost scared to break the moment as he leans into her touch.

“It’s a bit early but, will you kiss me under the mistletoe?”

The warmth in his chest explodes with the strength of a supernova, pulsing heat licking across every inch of him so hot he’s worried he’ll burn her where they’re connected.

He brings her hand to his lips, pressing a feather-light kiss on her knuckles before guiding it to caress his other cheek, resting his own hands on her waist and the small of her back, closing the last bit of space between them with a gentle tug.

“Nothing would make me happier, doll.”

He watches the way her eyes flutter shut, wanting to memorize every second of this moment before letting his own close.

There is no rush, the press of their lips is languid and soft and even better than he could have ever hoped for.  It’s not a kiss of desire, the embrace isn’t hurried and needy, it’s an acknowledgment and acceptance between them and says all of the words they haven’t gotten a chance to express yet.

He’s not sure how much time has passed when they pull apart, but it feels like no time at all and he already wants to sweep her away and continue for as long as she’ll indulge him.

With one last peck on her lips, he presses his forehead to hers, maintaining the contact that he had been yearning for so long.

“We might need to get Sam a fruit basket or something,” she says.

“Maybe. But he can wait till Christmas.”

[glassartpeasants]

Crying In The Club .6

Overhaul x F!Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff?, jealousy, 

A/N: Yes yes, its been about a week. But do not fret my children for it is back. And unlike most of the chapters so far, this one actually has some fluff in it. Also sorry that this one is a bit short, But I promise that the next one will be longer! I didn’t realize how short it was until I typed the whole thing.

~~~

4 months later

“I love October! I just love all the leaves changing colors!” You laugh as you hug your boyfriends arm tighter. Smushing your face into his jacket sleeve.

“My favorite is the smell. It just has the affect I guess. I also like Halloween since people give you out treats.” You laugh at him while he pondered.

You’ve been having so much fun with (???) that you almost have forgotten about Kai.

Almost

No matter what you did, the scar Kai had given you had always brought back all the memories that you had hoped to leave behind. Every fight, every hit,

Every Kiss

‘Shit!’ You internally cringe. It’s been 4 months! You need to forget that idiot! He killed you (Y/N)! Whatever relationship you guys had was toxic. It was terrible. You deserve better than that scum.

You sigh before smiling as you hug (????) arm even tighter. Cuddling up to him. You felt safe with him. Like nothing could ruin this. You never felt more safe.

But no matter how happy you may be, there’s always something to rope you back to Kai. And that happened to be one of Kai’s henchmen.

‘Kai should see this! Sure you guys may not be ‘dating’ anymore but Kai still needs his options!’

~~~

Kai groaned at the babbling woman that sat in front of him. Her excessive talking was making him lose a few brain cells from every word that left he aggravating mouth. God it’s only been 4 months, 4 MONTHS, and he already wants to kill her.

‘This is absolute torture.’ Kai opened his eyes and saw (R/N) rambling to mimic about god knows what. Just as he was about to stand up a member of the 8 precepts of death, burst through the door panting and holding his phone.

“Sorry for the rude intrusion boss but I have something that you might want to see.” Setsuno moved his phone closer to Overhaul as he tried to catch his breath after running all the way here.

“You know it’s rude to not knock right-”

“Silence woman, what is it Setsuno?” Kai raised an eyebrow at the man you looked like he as about to pass out. He handed the phone over to him before leaning against the wall. The girl furrowing her brows at Kai, gasping at his words.

Setsuno gave Kai a look only to see Kai grip his phone in a crushing grip.

“Everyone leave, Setsuno you stay.” The girl was about to say something but was dragged out before she could utter a peep.

“Where did you see them at?”

“By the cafe downtown sir!”

Kai growled at the pictures of you and that unknown man. A burst of jealousy filled him. His entire being seeing red as he felt as if his skin was boiling hot.

You had already moved on? After what? A year of your fake secret? Anger burst through Kai as a dark aura surrounded Kai, making the air around him feel thick with tension. His mixed feelings coming into play.

‘Finally she’s out of my life.’ His inner demons thought. That was until a new voice made it’s presence known.

‘She was so much prettier than this one.’

“Print the pictures. All of them. You took them Setsuno, make sure none of them are left out.” Setsuno nodded his head and ran out of Kai’s office. Leaving Kai to his inner thoughts.

“What the hell am I thinking? I don’t miss her damnit.”

“he’s obviously not right for her. She belongs to me.’

“I’ll never have to see her stupid face again.’

“Just shut up! Shut up jesus! Why can’t I get her out of my head?!” Kai yelled while grabbing onto a couch cushion and screaming into it. He needed a clean train of thought.

Kai stood up and sulked over to his desk, sitting in his chair before sighing.

He grabbed a pen and twirled it in between his fingers, looking at his gloved hand.

‘Killing her to get your jacket back wasn’t necessary.’ He moved His head back so he was staring at the ceiling, his eyes fluttering close. 

***

Kai sat in his desk writing, filling out taxes before hearing a faint knock coming from the door. He grunted and looked up. Calling for the person to come in. He expected to see (R/N) but was surprised to see you. His eyes were wide, why were you here?

“Kai sweetie, I brought you some tea. You looked like you needed it. You sat down the tea cup and went behind him to massage his shoulders. Humming as your fingers gently pushed against his skin. Rolling the knots away.

Kai was speechless, why were you even here? You were gone. He went to move his hands to shoo you away but his hands were caught. He turned to you and froze when he saw you kissing his gloved knuckles. The gentle kisses you placed on his knuckles made his heart pound.

He couldn’t move when he felt your soft fingers slowly pull down his mask. You placed your soft hands against his cheek, looking into his amber eyes.

Kai watched as your lips moved down and connected with his lips with yours. Your soft lips moving against his. Your thumb gently gliding across his face. You eyes fluttered shut as you moved your lips against his.

Kai’s eyes slowly closed as her accepted you kiss. He moved his hand to your face. HIs finger brushing against your soft skin. His whole world felt liked it stopped. He melted into your kiss as he grabbed your face and brought it closer to his. Enjoying the feeling of your soft lips against his once more.

He felt your lips leave his, confused he opened his eyes only to find blood covering the area where you had been.

Kai’s eyes widen. As he took a few moments to let his shock to leave, he quickly tried to bring you back. But his quirk wasn’t working and wasn’t doing anything other then smearing your blood around. HIs face covered in it as hives appeared on his skin. Kai soon grew hysteric as he tried over and over again to bring you back to him before your sweet voice rang through his ears.

‘Murderer’

‘Monster’

‘Disgrace’

‘Disappointment’

‘Unloveable’

***

Kai jolted awake and looked around his office, seeing no sign of you and no sign of your body that would have been splattered on the walls. His body full of adrenaline as he looked at the time.

‘Only one minute? That whole dream?’ Kai thought to himself as he moved his fingers to his lips, which were still covered by his black mask. He sighed as he rubbed his, groaning before returning to his work. But never forgetting that sweet kiss that you so gracefully upon his lips in his dream.

‘I need more. She’s mine. Only mine.’

[vivi-the-sky-kid]

Sowing the Seeds (of Love), Chapter 1

Aka the Resh/OC Fix-It Fic Nobody Asked for but I'm Inflicting on All of You Anyways as Punishment for Kai's Your Hubris

The King has always been a mysterious figure in the annals of the Sky Kingdom's history, generating both awe and fear within the hearts of the sky spirits. Few can claim to have met them in person; certainly not Tav, a researcher of light creatures for the Vault of Knowledge. But when they discover their research may be used to harm the very creatures they know and love, Tav knows they cannot allow this to happen.

Somehow, they must change the King's mind. If that means throwing butterflies at their royal face, then so be it.

-<◇>-

Warnings: Will be added to each chapter when necessary, but there's not gonna be anything graphic in this (do send me an ask if you think there's something I should warn about tho)

Rating: T (just to be on the safe side)

Pairing(s): Resh/OC

Tag(s): Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Additional Tag(s): Resh and Alef are twins, Resh and Tav are both nonbinary, Resh uses he/they, Tav uses she/they, Resh is demiromantic and pansexual, Tav is biromantic and demisexual, no beta we die like moths in eden

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

-<◇>-

Chapter 1

Word Count: 2,477

Warning(s): None

-<◇>-

Fury powered her strides as Tav marched towards the elevator leading to Elder Lamed's level of the Vault. What they had overheard... it was unthinkable! Outrageous! And they intended to let Lamed know exactly that! She couldn't let her research be used like this. Not to harm the very creatures they had spent their life studying.

Onwards and upwards she went, a lone figure on the elevator. Scholars sorting memory cubes and acolytes tending to the spiritual residue of the Kingdom's history flew past her vision. Finally, the elevator came to a stop, its power diamond moving to rest over the Elder statues, and Tav mustered their psychokinetic powers to fly the short distance to the grassy island. That had been a trick the mantas had helped her master; if not for them, she would still struggle to get around Vault's upper levels like before. They took a breath to steady themself, adjusted the prairie lily clipped to their hair, and moved forward.

As they crested the structure bearing the Elder statues, Tav looked around. She could see no sign of Elder Lamed, which meant, more likely than not, the Elder had withdrawn into their private domain. There was nothing for it but to light the altar candles, sit before their statue, and pray.

Their legs had started to fall asleep when they finally felt the brush against their mind that meant Lamed had heard their prayer, and was ready to listen. She relaxed and let the Elder pull their consciousness into that dreamy world. When they next opened their eyes, they knelt in the same spot, although the elevator diamond was now gone, casting the area in comfortable shadows. In the statue's place stood Lamed, gazing down at her with an unreadable look.

“Ah, so you are the one who prayed. Tav, was it? Head of the light creature research effort?”

“That's correct, Elder Lamed. I've come to you regarding a decision involving my research.”

“Is that so?” Their eyes flickered beneath the mask, before they dipped their head. “Very well. Speak.”

Tav jumped to their feet, hands clenching the fabric of their robe. “Elder Lamed, I cannot permit my research to be used to develop these 'dark weapons' R&D is proposing! Light creatures are beautiful, wonderful creatures that share a great deal in common with us. They are intelligent, gentle, and loving beings. To turn them into weapons is... is... is out of the question!”

The Elder's eyes had grown wide at her outburst, but soon closed as they pressed a hand to their forehead. “Really, Tav, you're being unreasonable. R&D has already gained permission from the King to go forth with this project. Are you saying you doubt His Majesty's judgment regarding the good of the kingdom?”

“Yes!”

Silence filled the domain. Sweat began running down Tav's back as a great pressure weighed down on them. When they almost gave in and knelt once more, it lifted, and Lamed turned away.

“I expect your research to be turned in to the Vault at the appropriate deadline. Is that understood?”

Tav was silent.

“I said, is that understood, Tav?”

“...It is, Elder Lamed.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

With that, their vision swam, and they closed their eyes to ward off the nausea. Upon opening them, she found herself back at the summit, the power diamond shining coldly overhead. They looked up at the statue and sighed.

Resolve filled them once more, and they stood and walked back to the elevator. Lamed may not have listened, but there was one more person she could try to convince. All reports of the King had them as a kind and benevolent ruler who listened to the people, yet these latest projects said otherwise. Which was the truth, and which was a lie? There was only one way to find out.

Tav swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. This was no time to get cold feet. The light creatures were counting on them.

First things first, however. She needed to keep her research out of the wrong hands.

-<◇>-

Another day, another round of paperwork. Resh sighed inwardly as he dipped his manta quill into the inkwell to sign the latest report from the Golden Land's biggest sunsteel refinery. Production was holding steady due to the shipment of light from Daylight Prairie, and they would likely have enough in reserve for the little project Vault R&D had recently proposed.

A soft call from the doorway caught their attention, and they lifted their head. One of the guards—a new recruit, if their nervous demeanor was any indication—was standing there somewhat awkwardly, but snapped to attention once his gaze was upon them.

Yes, definitely new. That salute was just a little bit too sloppy to be one of the older members.

“What is it?” he said, fixing his gaze on them.

They stiffened. “Y-Your Majesty, there is... a researcher from the Vault demanding to speak with you. They refuse to leave otherwise.”

“Return them to the Vault. We have no time for a meeting, let alone with some unknown researcher,” they replied, returning to their paperwork.

“What do they want?” said a new voice, chiming up from the door leading further into the royal quarters.

Resh blinked and slowly turned towards it. Watching the exchange was their twin, Alef, still dressed in the formal wear of the golden mask, yellow-painted pizaine, and midnight-blue cloak they used for being the public face of the King. They must have returned a short time ago from their trip to the Valley.

“Your Majesty, they have requested you withdraw your support for the Dark Matter Bioweapon project.”

“Have they, now?” Resh shook his head. “Unfortunately, it is too late. The proposal has been signed and delivered to the Vault. To withdraw it now would be equivalent to saying We have made a mistake.”

They let the implications of that statement hang in the air like a sword above the guard's head. With a stammered response of, “Of course, Your Majesty,” they left, and soon only Alef and Resh remained in the office. The latter ignored the former's pointed look, turning back to the stack of paperwork that had yet to be completed with another sigh.

“You've been doing that a lot lately. Perhaps you should take a break.”

Resh shot them a glare out of the corner of his eye, but did not stop his work. Only when they had signed a petition to expand the Valley of Triumph, a tally of candle production in the Isle of Dawn, and a request for more light shipments to the Hidden Forest, did they gesture with their free hand to the desk's contents.

“As you can see, Alef, I am kept busy with the affairs of the kingdom. I am King, after all. My guidance is needed to ensure the kingdom's prosperity.” He dipped the quill into the inkwell once more and grabbed another piece of paper—this time, a request from the Valley to provide them with more boats, as some had broken recently.

“I cannot rest until I have dealt with these matters” —and they said this last bit under their breath— “even if they are incredibly dull.”

Alef hummed and moved closer, cloak swishing softly around his body. They picked up one of the papers in the discarded stack, scanned it, and then looked to Resh. “Surely you can rest from these for a short time? All work and no play makes one a dull star.”

“How rich, coming from the one who only concerns themself with attending celebrations and avoiding any work here,” they replied.

Alef narrowed his eyes, then shook his head and shrugged.

“You want me to do some work here? Very well.” They went up to the switch next to the desk, which would summon a guard when activated (not that Resh had ever used it), and called forth their inner flame in one hand to light it. Soon enough, the same guard from before came to the office. They gave the salute again, a little more firmly this time.

“You called, Your Majesty?”

“Is the researcher still here?”

“Y-Yes, Your Majesty. I was on my way to relay your wishes when you summoned me back.”

“I have decided to grant them an audience. Please have them escorted to the throne room.”

“Oh, uh...” They cleared their throat. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“What are you doing?” Resh said, eyeing their sibling with suspicion.

“Work. You said you were too busy to meet with them, didn't you? Well, it just so happens that I am remarkably free. As your dear elder sibling, it is the least I can do for you, Resh.”

With that, they glided from the office before Resh could stop them, leaving him standing with his hand grasping at air.

They sighed.

-<◇>-

The throne room was easily the largest chamber of the Palace, with a throne built to match—a deliberate choice on Resh's part, during its construction all those years ago. Looking the part was half the battle, and what better way to show your kingliness than by being five times the size of Elder Tsadi, he had said. Which Alef now was, having shifted in size to full height as they approached the throne room. The guards at the entrance snapped to attention, and he nodded in greeting as he passed through.

Near the far wall was the diminutive figure of the researcher, their head craned back to take in the full view of the mural displayed there. Two guards flanked them, ensuring they didn't go anywhere they weren't supposed to be. Alef cleared their throat, the sound echoing to every nook and cranny due to the chamber's acoustics, and every person in the room jumped. The guards soon lined up and stood at attention, and the rogue researcher turned to look at him as he took his place on the throne. One guard said something quietly to them, and the researcher nodded, brushed out their robe, and walked forward beside the guards.

“So this is the spirit who requested an audience with Us?” Alef intoned, glancing down at the guard who escorted them, and they nodded timidly. His eyes returned to the spirit, noting that, even with the crest typical of the Vault's senior members, they barely surpassed most of the guards in height. Despite this huge difference in size between them and himself, they barely trembled.

How interesting.

“We permit you to speak, spirit.”

They bowed in acknowledgment, and upon straightening, called out, “Your Majesty, I must urge you to reconsider this Dark Matter Bioweapon project! Light creatures are our friends. They do not deserve to be treated like mere tools, to be used up and cast aside!”

Alef tilted their head to the side thoughtfully, taking their chin between their thumb and index finger.

“...What is your name, star?”

“My name is Tav, Your Majesty. Head of the Vault's research into light creatures.”

“I see.” They leaned forward, casting their shadow over Tav. “Tell Us, Tav. This project is intended to better the kingdom's future. If light creatures are our friends, do they not owe this kingdom their aid, in whatever form we require?”

Tav stepped forward, their hands balling up at their sides.

“There must be a better way than this! Whatever future that project holds is worse than one where we treat the light creatures as our allies. I know it! Please, Your Majesty, let me show you.”

How very interesting.

And exactly what they needed.

Alef steepled their fingers before them, resting their elbows on the armrests of the throne. A sly grin formed on his face. Though it was hidden by their mask, Tav seemed to sense its presence, because they took an involuntary step back.

“We have an offer for you, Tav.”

At the same time, they called out to their sibling and requested their presence in the throne room.

-<◇>-

Resh sighed as they walked.

At one point, the magnificent tapestries and luminous murals decorating the walls of the throne room had brought him such joy. But that had been many, many years ago—too many to count. Now they were just another feature of the brilliant, intricate, boringthrone room, easily ignored in favor of dealing with the unwelcome researcher currently standing before the throne. The reason they had been called away from their work by their sibling.

“Ah, there you are,” Alef said from their spot on the throne. They turned back to the spirit. “Resh is Our Will, you see. They are the one who approved the project. Now, We will send a message to the Vault requesting that they do not proceed with the project until We permit. You have until then to persuade Resh of the truth of your words.”

...What?

The two of them turned, and Resh winced when he realized he had spoken aloud.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty. I was just wondering what this task you have given me is.”

“Ah, of course. You see, Resh, Tav here would like to show Us that light creatures should not be used in the Dark Matter Bioweapon project. However, We have our duties to contend with, and so cannot leave the Palace for such a matter. You, on the other hand, are Our Will, and so We have decided that you shall go in Our stead.”

Even from this distance, and even with the mask hiding their face, Resh could feel the gleeful smugness radiating from Alef like heat from a flame. Their most venomous thoughts, directed like psychic arrows at their twin, only increased the smugness, and so, narrowing their eyes, they bowed courteously to the researcher—Tav, was it?

“As you wish, Your Majesty. When shall we be departing?”

“I assume Tav here needs some time to prepare their case. We shall permit them a day to do so. On the morrow, you shall follow after them to...?”

“Oh, uh, Daylight Prairie, Your Majesty.”

“Daylight Prairie. I can see why you chose to do your research there.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Tav said, bowing deeply before leaving with their escorts.

When they were gone, Resh unleashed the full force of their glare at Alef, folding their arms before their chest.

“What are you plotting?”

“Why, nothing! Simply giving you the rest you deserve,” they said, rising from the throne. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I do believe there is paperwork with my name on it. Don't be late for the boat tomorrow, Resh. It would reflect poorly on Us.”

With that, they waved and left, shrinking back down to a more manageable size as they went. Resh watched them go, scowling and boring holes into the back of their head.

Then he sighed and returned to the royal quarters to rest and prepare appropriate clothing for this farce.

Alef would pay for this.

-<◇>-

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

[mldrgrl]

Safety in Numbers

by: mldrgrl Rating: R Summary: The Hanella in quarantine fic some of you have been waiting so patiently for.

It happens so quickly and it’s shocking, even if she suspected it might happen.  Overnight, everything just stops.  An emergency conference call is held and just like that, she’s teaching in a virtual classroom and toilet paper is suddenly one of her biggest concerns.  And the nightmares come, stealing her sleep and leaving her restless.  It’s only been a week.

Unable to sit still to give a lecture, she creates a station for herself on the butcher’s block in the kitchen area.  If her students only knew the things that had happened on that butcher’s block, but she could say that about nearly every wall and surface of the loft.  They’d probably never imagine she was capable, not in a million years.  She’s heard stories of other classrooms turning this new landscape they were in into entertainment - wearing silly hats, creating silly backgrounds on their screens, wearing pajamas - but not her.  She makes it clear from day one, criminology is a serious study and they are to treat it as such.

She’s just ended a discourse on crime scene containment when Hank emerges from the bedroom.  He hasn’t showered or shaved yet, even though it’s noon and she knows he’s been up writing since before she began her lecture.  His eyes are squinted and his lip is curled up as though he’s just eaten something distasteful.

“What timing,” Stella says, closing the lid of her laptop.

“Yeah, I…”  Hank pauses and rubs the back of his head so that his hair spikes up.  “Uh…”

“Something the matter, Watson?”

“Karen just called me.”

Stella is immediately awash with concern.  “Everything alright?  Is someone ill?”

“I don’t know.  She wants you to call her.  Said she would’ve actually called you herself, but she wasn’t sure of your teaching schedule and didn’t want to interrupt.”  

“I’ll ring her now.  Any idea what it’s about?”

“None.  She assured me no one was dying, but that it was important.  I’ve been climbing the walls in the room waiting until your class was over.”

“Well, you were quite prompt.”  Stella crosses the room to the coffee table where her mobile is charging.  She unplugs it and unlocks the screen.  She pulls up Karen’s contact card and initiates the call.

“Oh good,” Karen answers immediately.  “Hank told you I called.”

“Yes, he’s pacing the room like a caged animal.  Do you mind if I put you on speaker?”

“Please, I want to run something by the both of you, actually.”

“Alright.”  Stella sits down on the sectional sofa and puts the call on speaker.  She holds the phone in her palm and points it towards Hank who’s biting his thumbnail and shuffling back and forth along the other side of the coffee table.

“I’ve been trying to get Becca to come up here once this whole quarantining, shelter-in-place thing started happening.”

“We tried as well,” Stella says.

“I know.  And I totally get that she’s an adult and has her own life and all that, but she finally agreed this morning.”

“That’s wonderful.”  Stella glances up at Hank.  “It’s been a concern for us.”

“Well, what I was thinking is that you guys should come up too.”

“Us?”

“What do you mean?” Hank asks.

“I mean, you should come stay in the guest house.”

“That’s a very generous offer-” Stella starts, but she’s interrupted.

“I’m worried about the two of you as much as Becca,” Karen says.  “Have you been outside at all?  Can you even go outside?”

“Not since Hank’s birthday, actually.”

“See.  You guys can be here and Becca will be here and then we won’t have to worry about you.  Stella, Fish said he’ll set you up in his office for your classes.  He’s turning the garage into a studio anyway and isn’t even using it.”

There was muffled shouting in the background.

“And he says the barbeque is ready,” Karen adds.  Hank rolls his eyes in response.

“I think it’s something we’d need to discuss,” Stella says.  “This isn’t likely to last just days or weeks.  We’re looking at months.  It’s possible travel even between states could be restricted.”

“Exactly,” Karen says.  “That’s even more reason why you should come.  If it gets that bad, you may not be able to get here.”

When, Stella thinks.  Not if.

“When are you picking Becca up?” Hank asks.

“Saturday.  Probably mid-morning.  We can just pop over after that and grab you two before heading back.”

“You’ve certainly given us something to consider,” Stella says.  “We’ll have a chat about it and get back with you.”

“I just really think you guys should be with family, you know?”

It’s that statement that tightens Stella’s chest.  She’s been without a proverbial family for most of her life and still lacks experience with feeling accountable to another person, let alone others.  But, she does feel accountable now and though she’d like to write Karen’s offer off as being a polite, albeit meaningless request, she knows it’s not.

They have a few more minutes of lighter conversation and then they hang up with Stella promising they’ll seriously consider Karen’s offer and get back with her.  There’s a few moments of silence after Stella disconnects the call and she watches Hank.  He’d slumped down on the sofa before they’d hung up and began chewing the inside of his cheek and staring out the window.

“Thoughts?” Stella asks.

“I don’t even know what to fucking think right now.”

“Are you inclined to say no?”

“Are you inclined to say yes?”

“I’m not inclined to say anything until we discuss it.”

“You didn’t think it was weird?”

“No more strange than being invited for weekends, really.  And we’ve certainly done that.”

“So you want to go?”

“I’m merely positing that I don’t believe it was a strange or disingenuous offer.”

“I wonder how she wore Becca down.”

Stella shrugs and then slumps back beside Hank.  “I’m glad she’s going.  It’s a better place for her to be instead of cooped up in her flat all alone.  Or here, really, where privacy would be limited.”

“And what if something does happen, like Karen said?  How would we get there.”

“That may not be an option.”

Just as Stella drops a gentle hand on Hank’s knee, he jumps up from the couch and begins to pace again.  She folds her hands over her lap to give him the time he clearly needs to put together his thoughts.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m living in a world where I have to consider moving in with my ex and the guy she’s shacking up with.”

“And your wife.”

“I mean ‘I’ like the royal ‘we.’  There is no ‘I,’ there’s only we.  Us.  Whatever.  You know what I fucking mean.”

“So then we’ll not consider it.  It sounds as though you’ve made up your mind about it already anyway.”

“Feel free to chime in with your thoughts at any time.”  He puts his hands together as if in prayer and bows towards her slightly.  “This feels like a rather one-sided discussion.”

“I could think of dozens of reasons to stay, but weigh that against one very good reason to go and, well...”

“Becca?” Hank asks.

“I know what it’s meant to you growing closer to her since we’ve been back.  It’s actually meant something to me as well.  And, I think I have an idea of what it might be like for you to go from seeing her so often to not at all, with no idea when the next time may be.”

Hank puts his hands to his face and pulls his skin down as he rubs at his cheeks and forehead.  

“What has your knickers all in a twist over this, Watson?” she asks.  “It’s only an offer and we can respectfully decline.”

“I don’t know.”  He shakes his head and drops his hands.  “I just...Karen and I were together for a long time and we’ve been through a lot of shit together.  I love her, but there are times...I suddenly remember how much I fucking resent her and the chain events she started.  And I realize that might sound like...I mean, it doesn’t account for the actual contentment and happiness I have at this time in my life.  I just can’t fucking forget sometimes.  It’s easier to do that when we’re apart.”

Stella is not a coddler by nature.  Offering comfort isn’t something that comes naturally or easy for her, but there are times when the inclination to soothe comes over her.  She stands and takes the few steps necessary to reach Hank.  First she takes him by the hips and then slides her hands up to his chest and then over his shoulders to link her fingers behind his neck.

“Are you thinking you’re sorry you married such a pussyass bitch?” Hank asks.

“Strange as it sounds, I was actually thinking about how much I love you,” she answers.  

“Stop it, Sherlock, you’ll make me cry.”

She pinches his nape lightly.  “Don’t be such a pussyass bitch.”

“And suddenly I’m very turned on.”

“You’re always turned on.”

“Pot.  Kettle.  Black.”

She shrugs.  “I’m not going to give Karen an answer until tomorrow.  I want you to think very hard about what you want to do because it’s not something we can change our minds on.”

“Do you want to go, Sherlock?”

“I told you, I can think of one very good reason to go and many reasons not to.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said, but I feel like that’s an ambiguous answer.  Do you want to go?”

Stella loosens her fingers at Hank’s neck and let’s her hands slide back to his shoulders.  She isn’t quite sure how to express the depth of the anxiety she feels about the situation to Hank or how hard she’s fought to suppress it.  The pages of her dream journal are rapidly being filled though.

“I think,” she says.  “For once, I might like to escape from danger instead of staring down the barrel at it.”

*****

They have one more discussion about Karen’s offer and though Hank still seems torn about what to do, he tells Stella he thinks they should go and asks if she’ll call Karen.  Before she can even grab her phone, he goes up to the roof and so she places the call by herself.  Karen is thrilled.  Stella can feel her elation through the phone, if that’s possible.

“This is so great,” Karen says.  “Bring whatever you need and even if you forget something, I’m sure we’ll have it.  Or we can get it.  You don’t have to worry about anything.  You know, honestly, I expected to have to sell you guys even harder than I did Becca.  I’m so relieved.”

“How did you manage to convince Becca to come up and stay?  She seemed very adamant about remaining on her own when we spoke with her.”

“I think I opened her eyes a little to how isolated she might be.  I also may have shamelessly reminded her that the pool was heated and all her meals and laundry would be taken care of, which was going to be my next tactic with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.  Well…”  Stella hesitates for a moment.  “Actually, I feel I should warn you that I’m rubbish in the kitchen.  We always order out.”

Karen laughs.  “Well, then you’re coming to the right place, honey.  I love to cook, and it’s way more fun when it’s for more than two.  Or three.”

“My fear is that you’ll tire of us.  I don’t want to be an added burden in any way.”

“Hank, maybe.  You, never.”  Karen laughs again.  “And, honestly, if Hank and I start to piss each other off, it never lasts long.”

“His fear is that the two of you might quarrel.”

“He does get on my last fucking nerve sometimes, but it’s been a really long time since we’ve sworn we’d hate each other for the rest of our lives.  A lot has changed since then.  For the better, obviously.”

“You sound quite certain.”

“The only thing I’m certain of is that if we haven’t killed each other by now, we probably won’t.”

“I do suppose the odds are favorable in that respect.”

“Listen, I want you guys here, I really do.  Maybe I’m being silly or overreacting to this, but I think if we can be together during this, we should.  I think we’ve talked about this a little before, but Hank and Becca, they just function better when they remain in each other’s orbit.”

“Yes, I agree.”

“So, I think this is really in the best interest of all of us to do this.  I know what I’m like when I’m crazy worried about Becca and I know what Hank is like.  But, then it’s you and Fish that have to suffer for it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it suffering.”

“But, you know what I mean.”

“I’ve never been a parent-”

“Bull shit, Stella.”

“Pardon?”

“That’s bull shit.  You might have come around later in her life, but you’re a Mom to Becca.  Don’t worry, I’m not one of those women who can’t deal with the idea of their kid having an extra parent.  I only wish you would’ve been here sooner.”

Stella blinks, stunned into a sudden silence.  Her throat tightens a little and her nose stings with the onset of tears, but she swallows them back and takes a calming breath.

“I was going to say that I’ve never been a parent, but having had Becca in my life for these past few years, I can understand the inclination to want to protect and prioritize one’s child.”

“I know you understand.  That’s why we’re all so lucky to have you.”

“Thank you for that, I…”  Stella stops and pinches away the burning sense of emotion between her brows.  “I feel as though I’m the lucky one.”

“Let’s call it mutual.”

“We can do that.”

“And honestly, one of the selling points for getting Becca to come up was that I told her I’d have the two of you on board as well.  You can’t make a liar of me.”

“No, I suppose we can’t.”

“Okay, so we’ll see you guys on Saturday.  I’ll call when we’re leaving Becca’s.  Everything will be perfectly fine, I promise.”

“Alright.  We’ll see you soon.”

Stella hangs up the phone and then sits quietly for a few minutes before she goes up to the roof to find Hank.  The sun has gone down and grey twilight has set in.  Though it was an unusually warm day, it’s gone a bit chilly.  She pulls her thin silk robe a little tighter and crosses her arms over each other for warmth.  Hank is reclining in one of the lounge chairs, a glass of whiskey in his hand.

“Did you tell Karen the happy news?” he asks.

“I did.  She was very pleased.”

“Mm.”

“I don’t think there will be anything to worry about.”

“No?”

“No.”  Stella straddles Hank’s lap over the lounge chair and sits on his thighs.  He puts one hand on her hip and takes a sip of his whiskey.

“The world is so fucking weird right now,” he says.  “I don’t know how to comprehend it.”

“No one does, I’m sure.”

“Even you, Sherlock?”

“Even me.”

He tips his head back to look at her and brushes the hem of her robe aside to slide his hand up the outside of her thigh.  They gaze at each other for a long while, he rubbing the top of her thigh and she plucking mindlessly at the black t-shirt covering his chest.  Her robe slips down her shoulder a little and he reaches up as though he’s going to slide it back in place, but instead he caresses the back of her arm and pets the strap of her tank top with the back of his hand.  Eventually, he sets his whiskey glass down on the little table next to the lounge and unties the knot holding her robe closed.

“Still fantasize about fucking on the roof?” he asks.

“It was never a fantasy, just a fleeting thought.”

“Is it crossing your mind right now?”

“It might be.”

“It’s definitely crossing mine.”

“I can tell.”  

She reaches down to cup the rigid bulge straining the fly of his jeans.  He grunts slightly and rubs the strip of skin showing below her navel with his thumb, between the loose edge of her tank top and lace edge of her panties.  Her skin becomes rippled with gooseflesh.  Within seconds, she’s swollen and pulses with arousal.  

Deftly, Stella pushes the buttons free along the fly of Hank’s jeans, from top to bottom.  He adjusts his hips as she brings him out into the closed heat of her fist.  It doesn’t take but a few strokes and strategic swirls of her thumb to have him panting and groaning under her.  

“Quiet,” she whispers, leaning close enough so she can flick her tongue out and catch his bottom lip.

“Make me,” he murmurs.  

She strokes him a little harder and then stops to raise up onto her knees.  Still gripping him tightly, she hooks her panties to the side and sinks down in one swift motion.  If he misses any extended foreplay, he doesn’t show it.  It’s a shut up and fuck me moment for her where all she wants and needs is his cock inside of her at just the right angle and she can handle the rest.  And he knows her well enough by now to know when to lay back and enjoy the ride.  She’ll make it up to him later by letting him fondle her in the shower, perhaps surprising him by requesting he wash her back, and then her front.  

For the most part, Hank just holds onto the flare of Stella’s hips and lets her set the pace.  She grips his shoulders and uses them for leverage to lift up, to arch her back, to roll her pelvis forward, and then to relax her thighs and do it all again.  They both know, from time and experience, just how quick and effective this particular move is for both of them.

“So fucking good,” he purrs.  He reaches up and grips Stella’s hair at the back of her head and pulls her down for a brief, but deep kiss.  She sinks her teeth into his bottom lip before she pulls away.  He licks the sting of it away.

When his little grunts of pleasure and encouragement grow too loud, she slaps her hand over his mouth and slips two fingers inside.  He bites down lightly and slips his tongue along the seam between her fingers, and she burns just a little more painfully with desire for him.

“Come on,” she says, slipping her hand down from his shoulder to root out his nipple over his shirt.  When she finds the taut little pebble, she gives it a tweak between her thumb and forefinger, grinding her pubic bone down against his as she does.  

Hank gives a muffled cry from under her hand and his hips jerk up.  The muscles in his neck strain when she does it again and his fingers dig roughly into her ass as he holds her in place.  She squeezes him boneless and moves his hand out of the way as he tries to help bring her over the edge to do it herself.  When the tension finally breaks and she splits apart with a terrible tremble, she gives a long moan of relief and then slowly brings herself down to rest against Hank’s chest.  He puts his arms around her and his chin on her shoulder.

“You’re all that makes sense to me right now, Sherlock” he says.

She doesn’t answer, but she finds the spot on the left side of his chest where she can feel his heart beating and presses her lips to it.

******

Saturday afternoon, they’re packed and ready.  Stella took the lead on preparation, experienced in planning for extended time away from home.  Becca and Karen’s arrival is awkward as no one quite knows what the protocol is for both reuniting and remaining distant at the same time.  They’ve talked about keeping cautious for the first week or so and keeping masks and gloves on for safety.

The ride up to Connecticut is gloomy.  It’s drizzled off and on for a few days and today it finally culminates into a steady downpour.  No one knows quite what to say, and even Hank, who normally can’t tolerate silence, doesn’t say much.  When they arrive, they take their bags out to the guesthouse which has been transformed once again with a nautical theme.  The last time they were there, at Christmas, it had a distinctly rustic flare.

“I’m seasick just looking at it,” Hank says, pulling his mask free from his ears.  “I might vomit.”

“The accent wall is a lovely shade of blue.”

“Tell me again we made the right choice.”

“We made the right choice.”

“And this will all work out.”

“It’s going to work out.”

“I’m the best sex you’ve ever had, none can compare.”

“I’m the best sex you’ve ever had,” she parrots.  “None can compare.”

“Smartass.”

“You walked right into that one.”

******

The first week feels endless and strange.  Stella has to utilize the upstairs office in the main house for her lectures and they all gather for dinners outside on the patio, but conversation is stilted and there is tension in the air.

It’s quickly apparent that the situation has brought underlying anxieties to the surface.  Stella’s strange dreams start to bring on episodes of sleep paralysis, something she hasn’t dealt with in some years.  Hank also seems to cling to her more tightly and for longer periods of time when they go to bed.  He doesn’t even try to initiate sex, prefering to hold her than fuck her.  It would bother her, but she also discovers something about herself that gives her pause and makes her re-evaluate her stance on cuddling: when faced with the reality that she is now in the same room on a daily basis as the people she loves most in the world, but is simply not able to embrace them, the ache it brings puts the importance of touch into perspective.  And if she’s feeling this way, she knows it’s exponentially worse for Hank.

Her birthday approaches and she asks Hank to please not mention it, to please make sure it comes and goes without acknowledgment.  Aside from waking that morning with Hank’s face between her thighs and the double chocolate brownies that are served after dinner, it passes unnoticed.  She’s grateful for that.

As the second week comes to a close, everyone seems to exhale and begin to relax.  The turning point seems to come when Fish unexpectedly asks Hank to come and have a look at the studio he’s been working on.  With Hank occupied, Stella asks Karen if she could help in the kitchen.

“You’ll have to instruct me on what to do,” Stella says.  “And don’t assume I know the difference between dicing and chopping.”

“Lesson one,” Karen answers.  “We start with a glass of wine.”

Thus begins the evening cooking lessons.  Becca joins in when she discovers what they’re doing and the three of them spend those few hours a day drinking and laughing while also trying to give Stella a handle on the basics of simple meal preparation.

“What’s your favorite meal?” Karen asks Stella one evening.  They’ve gathered around the kitchen island, making lists of recipes to try.  Karen is looking everything up on her phone, elbows on the counter.  “Something you love,” she adds.  “But that you wouldn’t think you could make for yourself?”

“Oh, that’s a rather difficult question,” Stella answers, but gives it some thought, sipping her glass of wine.  “It isn’t really a meal, but I do miss the Cornish pasties I used to get from time to time at a shop back in London.”

“Mmhm.”  Karen taps Cornish pasties recipes into Google while Becca looks over her shoulder.

“They look like empanadas,” Becca says.  “Wait, go back, there’s a vegetarian one too.”

“We could totally do these.  Put skirt steak, leeks, and rutabaga on the list.  We’ve got enough onions.  And potatoes.  Check to see if there are any carrots left.”

“How did you first learn to cook?” Stella asks.

“Oh, I don’t know, I was studying all the time and stuck at home with this one,” Karen answers, pointing her thumb back at Becca.  “Hank would be at his typewriter and the noise of it would make me insane so I’d put some music on and look at recipes I’d torn out of pages from magazines.  Not because I cared much about what it was, but because I liked the pictures of them.”

“You were trying to design food when you couldn’t design interiors.”

“Yeah, pretty much.  And then I just decided to actually try some of them.”

“She makes the best spinach ravioli,” Becca says.  “I went through a phase where I would only eat Italian food when I was little.”

“Must be because of the garlic,” Stella adds.

“I do love garlic.”

“I know, your dad told me the story of it once.”

“What story?”

“How you were ill one night as a toddler.”

“I don’t know this story.”  Becca looks from Karen to Stella and then back to Karen again.  “Mom?”

Karen looks slightly confused.  “Yeah, I don’t...I’m not sure what story that is.”

“I’m not going to have all the finer details,” Stella starts, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed for having knowledge of an event that Karen and Becca seem unaware of.  “Your dad was telling me once that he’d been genuinely terrified one night when you were a toddler and you’d had a rather high fever.  A neighbor woman, someone in the building you lived in with many children, came up and used some oils on you, one of which had a strong odor of garlic.”

“Holy shit,” Karen says.  “Yeah, that’s...yeah I do remember that.  Kind of.  Oh god, what was her name.  Melanie, or something close to that.  She used to call Becca ‘Pretty Baby’ all the time.”

“I don’t remember this lady,” Becca says.

“You were really little,” Karen says.  “She also moved out of the building by the time you were two.  But, yeah, she put all this oil on you and this little t-shirt and socks.  It smelled terrible, but it did the trick.  And holy fuck, did you smelled like garlic for a full week.”

“I wonder where she is now.”

“That was always the thing about New York.  People were there one day and then they weren’t.”

This subdues the trio for a few moments.  The current reality is that there are a lot of people who have been there one day and then not there the next, and not just in New York, but everywhere.

“And perhaps that’s why you love garlic,” Stella says softly, finally, breaking the silence that followed.

“Interesting.”  Becca contemplates her glass of wine and drums her fingers against the kitchen counter for a few moments.  “I have some writing to do.”

Karen leans forward and stretches her arms across the kitchen island after Becca leaves and covers one of Stella’s hands with both of hers.  “I love that you know that story,” she says.

“It’s something we used to do back when we were still long-distance.  Tell stories.  Mostly Hank, though.  I’m sure you’re aware that he has a need to fill any silence.”

“That’s an understatement.”  Karen laughs.

“Indeed.”

“Oh god, can you imagine if this had happened while you were still doing long-distance?  Or even when you guys were still in London.”

“No, I really can’t.  It would be…”  Stella can’t even think of a word that’s fitting.  Difficult.  Strange.  Unfathomable.  The thought of it actually makes her feel a bit anxious.  Karen nods and squeezes her hand.

Fish and Hank suddenly emerge from the studio and stroll into the kitchen.  Fish stands just behind Karen and squeezes her hips.  Stella reaches out and takes Hank’s hand in hers and brings his arms around her.

“So, what do you ladies have up your sleeve for tonight?” Fish asks.

“Salads and a cold pasta tonight,” Karen answers.  “We’re going to get experimental next week.”

“I like experiments.  I’ll be whipping up some more marinade tonight for the steaks this weekend.  Where’s Beckster?”

“She wanted to do some writing.”

“I can learn a thing or two about discipline from her,” Hank says.  “That’s exactly what I need to be doing.”

“Go on,” Stella says, patting his arms.  “I’ll let you know when dinner is ready.”

Hank kisses the side of Stella’s neck before he leaves.  Karen starts to pull items out of the refrigerator as Fish comes up next to Stella and leans against the kitchen island.

“Your hubs been telling you about his guitar lessons?” Fish asks.

“You’ve been giving him lessons?”

“Refreshing what he already knows.  He’s been helping me teach my group.”

“Has he?”

“He’s gonna duet with one of my kids for the concert comin’ up.”

“Are you still holding that?” Karen asks, lining up mixing bowls along the counter.  “How can you?”

“We’re gonna Zoom it.  That’s how they’re all doing their school now anyway.”

“That’s how I’m doing my lectures as well,” Stella says.

“Well, you ladies are of course invited.  It’s on Saturday, in two weeks.”

“I’ll have to check my calendar,” Karen answers.  “So many places to go right now.  So many plans.”

“Hah!”  Fish comes around to the other side of the island and pinches Karen on the side before giving her a bear hug from behind.  “Funny lady.”

Later that night, after they’ve had dinner and Stella and Hank are lying in bed, she turns to face him and he plays with the strap of her tank top, running his finger over her shoulder to the top of her breast and back.

“I hear you’re playing in a concert in a few weeks,” she says.

“Yeah.  The Trout roped me into that before I knew what was happening.  He’s got me plucking out Blackbird with some 12-year-old.  Supposed to be a confidence booster or something.”

“For you or the kid?”

“He didn’t specify.”  Hank leans over and bites the top of Stella’s shoulder lightly and then rubs the spot with his thumb while he places kisses across her chest to her throat.

“Mm,” she answers.

“Actually,” he says, and pulls away.  “I didn’t know this, but The Trout is like, a gazillionaire.”

“I presumed he was fairly wealthy from his family history.”

“Yeah, but no.  He actually made a shit ton of money on investments after designing some landmark building and so he retired and now he doesn’t have to do anything and his money just makes more money.”

“Why did he retire though?”

“He didn’t like being an architect and just went with the flow of the family business, but he wanted to be a musician.  So he quit and all the lessons he does now, he does it for free with this community program.”

“That’s lovely.”

“I know.  When this whole shitshow started, he actually made sure all the kids he taught for had iPads so they could continue their lessons.  And then because he wants them to still have their spring concert, he’s making sure all their extended families that were going to attend have iPads to watch it.”

“He has a generous soul.”

Hank flops onto his back and blows out a sigh.  “And we’re just sitting here doing fucking nothing.”

“What we’re doing is equally important.”

“What are we doing?”

“Not going out and risking exposure.  For ourselves and for others.”

“It feels like nothing.  Just sitting, doing fuck-all.”

“What would you rather be doing?”

“I have no idea.  I’m barely qualified to exist.”

Stella scoots closer to Hank and drapes her arm over his chest and her leg over his thigh.  He tips his head towards hers and holds onto her wrist as he falls asleep.

*****

In the middle of the third week, Stella is taking attendance at the top of her lecture, as she always does.  She makes note of a student’s absence and starts in on the chapter outline.  At the end of class, she does another attendance check.

“Mr. Diaz, would you please indicate your presence if you’re at today’s lecture.”

A moment of silence passes and then another student’s window comes into her screen.  “Hector tested positive, Professor,” the student tells her.  “He’s in the hospital.”

In her years of training, Stella has conditioned herself to remain emotionally neutral in all varieties of situations.  However, she is out of practice.  She blinks once and then nods slightly, but feels her chin begin to wobble.

“Thank you for telling me,” she says, and pauses for a moment to keep her breathing steady.  “Please be sure to complete the chapter exam prior to Friday’s lecture.  We’ll be starting on new material next week.”

She signs out of her lecture platform to a chorus of ‘yes, Professor.’  After closing her laptop, she places her hands on the lid and breathes deeply.  It’s just like the conversation they were having the other day.  Someone is there one day, and gone the next.  

When she comes downstairs, she finds Hank, Becca, and Fish in the sitting room, tuning guitars.  They’re smiling and laughing about something.  She turns to take the long way around to the side door so they don’t notice her, but runs into Karen in the front room, who asks her to form an opinion on some fabric samples.  She obliges her and then excuses herself under the pretense of needing to review assignments.  

Later in the evening, she musters the enthusiasm to assist Karen and Becca in preparing kebabs for Fish to grill, feigns engagement in the discussion about a Netflix documentary over dinner, helps with the nightly emptying and filling of the dishwasher, and begs off a dessert of sliced fruit to go to bed early.  No one questions her, but she can see the concern on Hank’s face as he looks up at her and kisses the inside of her wrist as she’s leaving.  Karen, too, seems to know that something is amiss, but doesn’t say anything.

Deep into the night, she’s not sure what time it is, but she wakes with Hank breathing hotly against her shoulder.  The ceiling is shimmering with silver light and she has to rub her eyes to see clearly.  She hears a noise, like the soft paddling of a boat on a river.  Carefully, she extricates herself from Hank’s arms and out of bed.  She steps outside and takes the extra time to silently close the door behind her.

The kitchen in the main house is dimly lit with the muted glow of the overhead light above the stove.  She moves towards it almost like a beacon, but stops when she hears the paddling once again and then a soft splash.  Stella blinks into the darkness and is able to make out the silhouette of someone in the pool.

“Karen?” she whispers.

“Oh shit,” Karen whispers back.  “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I...no.”  Stella steps cautiously towards the pool.  Her eyes are adjusting more to the darkness and she can make out the dark shape of Karen swimming towards her from the opposite side.  She reaches the edge just as Karen does.

“You should come in.”

“I’m not sure where I put my swimsuit.  I’d probably wake Hank trying to find it.”

Karen laughs quietly.  “Who needs a swimsuit?”

“I’ve never skinny dipped before.”

“It’s fantastic.  Especially after midnight.”

“Is that why you’re out here at this hour?”

“Sort of a habit of mine if I can’t sleep.”

“Why can’t you sleep?”

“If I knew, I’d probably be able to sleep.”  Karen suddenly dunks her head underwater and then comes back up and clears the water from her face.  “Come in.  I always bring extra towels down, so don’t worry about that.”

“Alright.”

Stella considers the available options of entering the pool.  She decides to use the stairs in the shallow end and leave her nightclothes on one of the deck chairs nearby.  She undresses with her back to the pool, but doesn’t hesitate to turn around and descend the steps.  Initially bracing herself for a sudden chill, she’s pleasantly surprised that even though she knows it’s heated, it’s still warmer than she was expecting.

As she wades in further, past her knees, past her hips, up to her shoulders, she’s amazed at how different and exhilarating it feels to slip through the water completely bare.  She had no idea the absence of a swimsuit would make such a difference.  Towards the deeper end of the pool, Karen floats silently on her back and Stella glides closer.

“You’re right,” Stella says.  “It is fantastic.”

“Mmhm.”

Doing a half-turn, Stella lays her head back and pulls her legs up before natural buoyancy takes over and she relaxes, floating next to Karen, but in the opposite direction.  There is no moon that she can see, but the longer she stares up into the sky, the more stars appear.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Karen says.  “But, you didn’t seem like yourself at dinner.  Everything okay?”

Stella could easily lie and tell her everything is fine, but even the thought of it feels wrong to her and she doesn’t want to risk putting up walls between herself and Karen.  Not when all she needs to do is share such a small piece of herself.

“No, it isn’t,” Stella says.  “I had a student that was absent from my lecture this afternoon and found out at the end of class that he had tested positive and is in hospital.”

“Oh, shit.”

“I don’t know what the proper thing to do is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking over it all evening.  I’ve been...reflecting on certain experiences in my life.  One in particular, which was quite challenging.”

Stella doesn’t realize she’s drifted so far until she bumps the side of the pool.  She pushes lightly away until she’s back to center.

“What was it?” Karen asks.  “Or, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“One of the last cases I worked as an active investigator was a serial rapist and murderer.  It was extremely taxing for a variety of reasons, but when we had the suspect in custody, he managed to overpower one of the guards and attack me during an interrogation.”

“Jesus!”

“It was vicious and brutal and to put it bluntly, I was severely beaten.”

“Oh my god, Stella.”  Karen finds Stella’s hand in the water and holds it tightly.

“I’m quite alright.  It was many years ago now.”  Stella gives Karen’s hand a reassuring squeeze, but Karen doesn’t let go.

“I had no idea.”

“It’s alright.  The reason it’s been on my mind is because whilst in hospital being treated after the incident, I had a very kind doctor who sat with me because he didn’t like the idea that I was alone.  It occurred to him, but it did not occur to me, that I might need someone.  I had no close friends, no family, no relationship to speak of because I could not and would not let anyone close to me.”

Karen let’s go of Stella’s hand.  The water ripples around them as Karen comes out of her float and treads water beside her.  Stella also comes out of her float and begins to tread water.

“How did you get from there to here?” Karen asks.  

“I’m a work in progress.  Do you know that it took me years just to be able to hold Hank’s hand in public?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Stella breathes deeply and lifts her left hand out of the water to flex her fingers.  Her wedding ring twinkles softly.  “I called Hank, actually,” she says.  “After the case was closed and I returned home, just a few days after being released from the hospital.  I called him.  I didn’t tell him what had happened, I only asked him if he would come to London to see me and he came straight away.”

“That certainly sounds like Hank.”

“We had only met twice before that.  And both times...to be perfectly frank, our only connection was sex.  I asked him to come to London knowing full well there was a strong possibility he would be angry with me for luring him out under false pretenses.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t do that.  And not just because you guys are where you are today, but because I know Hank.”

“I didn’t know him.  Not at that time.  I only knew that I did not want to be alone and he was the only person I could think of that might not judge me for it.”

“Do you know, that’s something that used to piss me off so much about him?  I always felt like he was such a selfish prick because he would drop everything for anyone at any time, no questions asked, regardless of how I felt about it.  But, really, I was the selfish prick because what I really wanted was for his full attention and to make me his only priority.”

“I had to learn how to bth be a priority and to prioritize someone else into my life.”

“The funny thing is, even when I was his only priority, I still wasn’t happy.”  Karen shakes her head suddenly and then dunks herself underwater.  She comes back up, slicking her hair back.  “Let’s come over to where we can stand.  My arms are getting tired.”

Stella follows Karen towards the shallow end of the pool.  Where Karen can stand with the tops of her shoulders exposed, Stella is still chin deep and moves back just a bit.

“Back to your story,” Karen says.  “I don’t think you were finished.”

“It’s just that what we’ve seen, what we’ve read, I know that those that have fallen ill and are in hospital are alone.  And not by choice.  There is no option to have a loved one sit by.”

“It fucking sucks.  I don’t even like the thought of it.”

“I know.  But, it makes me think back on the training I went through and how it was instilled in me to be calm, rational, to think critically, to compartmentalize my emotions to be able to do the job.”

“You were a really fucking good detective, weren’t you?  Hank said you were.”

“I was.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Yes.  And no.  When I began teaching, I saw it as an opportunity to mold my students into the kind of detective that I was.  I think I may also be guiding them towards the same mistakes.”

“What mistakes?”

“It took me a very long time to learn compassion and empathy, and how to use it appropriately.”

“Is that something that can really be learned?”

“I think so.  I told my students at the start of all of this, we were going to proceed as though nothing has changed.  That this would be a lesson in adaptation to swiftly changing circumstances.”

“And now you’ve changed your mind.”

“I should have stopped to consider the effect this might have on their mental health.  Stressed the importance of self-care.  All I’ve wanted is to prepare them in the way that I was, but I should also be preparing them in the ways that I wasn’t.”

“What do you think you should do?  To prepare them?”

“I don’t know.  What do you think I should do?”

“Maybe just ask them how they’re doing.”

“I thought of that, but in my head it sounds so very superficial.  When I thought about the student that’s ill, it occurred to me that I don’t know anything about him.  Any of them.  I don’t know why they’re in my class except that it’s a required course in the criminal justice curriculum.  I don’t know where they are now or who they’re with or even if they’re alone.  They’re all so much younger than Becca.  I’m...worried for them.”

“I think you’ve got the hang of the compassion thing pretty well.”

“I think I preferred being emotionally stunted.”

“No, you didn’t.”  Karen chuckles a little and then tips her head back.  She slips easily into another float.

Stella pinches her nose and takes a deep breath.  She dunks herself and stays under the surface of the water for as long as she can hold her breath and then rises slowly.  She goes under again, this time doing a front stroke, gliding as far as she can before twisting while still underwater and coming up to her back.  She grows drowsy as she floats somewhere in the middle of the pool, under the stars.  She can finally see the half-moon, cresting high to the east.

“I’m pruning,” Karen says after what feels like hours.  

Stella is slow to follow, only just coming out of her float as Karen is taking the steps up out of the pool, moonlight glowing off her hair and shoulders.  Stella glides to the shallow end, accepting a large, soft towel from Karen even before she’s half-way out.

“Let me know if you ever feel like a midnight swim again,” Karen says.  “It was nice to have someone else with me.”

“Fish never comes down with you?”

“How’s this for irony, Fish doesn’t know how to swim.”

“Oh.”  Stella laughs lightly.  “That is...unexpected.”

“He does come down sometimes though.  Sits on the edge and gets his feet wet.”

“Well, if you’re feeling the need as well and want someone to join you, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Sleep well.”

“Good night.”

Stella retrieves her nightclothes and heads back to the guest house.  She enters as quietly as she left and tosses her clothes off somewhere in the dark.  It isn’t quietly enough though, and Hank shifts in bed.

“Stella?” he murmurs.

“Go back to sleep,” she says.  She towel-dries her hair and hangs the damp towel up on the hook in the bathroom before she heads to bed.  When she slips under the sheets, Hank rolls towards her and drapes a heavy arm over her.

“Your hair is wet,” he mumbles against the back of her shoulder.  “And you smell like chlorine.”

“I went for a swim.”

“Mm.”  He grunts a little and his hand makes a path from her hip to the back of her thigh.  “You’re not wearing anything, Sherlock.”

“No.  I didn’t know where my suit was and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Are you saying you went skinny dipping?  Without me?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“If nudity is involved, you should always wake me.”

“It was rather spontaneous.  Karen was-”

“Karen?”  Hank picks his head up and peers over her shoulder at her.  “You and Karen were out there skinny dipping?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No.  No, no.  Nope.  Not a problem.  There are a lot of thoughts running through my mind right now and none of them are a problem.”

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“Well, too late for that.  My ideas even have ideas.”  He pushes his hips lazily into hers and rubs her hip.

“We had a nice swim and a chat.”

“What about?”

“A student of mine tested positive.  He’s in hospital.”

“Fuck.  Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“I don’t know.”

He snuggles closer to her and sighs.  She pats his arm for him to ease his grip on her and then shifts onto her back.  He rolls over as well and they lay in the dark on their backs, similar to how she had just been floating in the pool with Karen.  She reaches blindly for his hand and twines her fingers into his.

“Thank you,” she says.

“For what?”

“The second life you’ve given me.”

“Same.”

She turns and curls towards him, too tired to keep her eyes open any longer.

*****

The pasties don’t turn out quite like how they’re supposed to, but they make her feel nostalgic.  She ends up sharing a few anecdotes from her childhood over dinner that she hasn’t thought about in years.  Then Fish tells a few tales, then Karen, then Hank, and then Becca.  It feels normal and like for a few short hours, the problems of the world fade away.  It gives her an idea.

At Friday’s lecture, instead of wearing work attire, Stella dresses in more casual clothes: a white linen button-down tunic with the sleeves rolled up her forearms to the elbows, and jeans.  She doesn’t curl her hair, merely clips it back out of her face, and doesn’t wear any make-up.

“Good morning,” she starts.  “We’ll begin momentarily, but first I would like you all to know that I believe I was wrong when I told you that we should proceed with this course as though nothing has changed.  We are all living through an unprecedented time that is characterized by fear and uncertainty.  You may be feeling anxious or overwhelmed right now.  You may not even understand how you feel.

“What I would like you to know is that your emotional and mental well-being is just as important as your training.  There isn’t enough schooling in the world that’s going to fully prepare you for what it’s like, emotionally, when you walk into your first crime scene, or speak with someone who’s just been through a trauma, or have to face the mother, father, husband, wife, children of someone who was the unfortunate victim of a homicide.  Or what it does to you after many years.

“We need to be mindful, I think.  More mindful now, more than ever.  If you are struggling in any way, I would like to know.  And I don’t mean just with the course, I mean in any way.  I will help you.”

Stella stops and assesses the gallery of students on the screen.  There is silence in the classroom.  No notifications for messages.  Someone unmutes themselves to give a brief ‘thank you, Professor,’ and others follow.

“In lieu of starting our next chapter on Monday, when we resume after the weekend, the assignment I am giving to you is to think of the place you would most like to be right now.  Any place at all.  Change your background for the day into that place.  For the hour and a half we convene that morning, I want to hear from all of you why you’ve chosen that particular place.”

“Will you be changing your background too, Professor?” one of the students asks.

“Yes.”  She pauses again to glance through the gallery.  “The last thing I’d like to request before we begin the lecture is that you keep Mr. Diaz in your thoughts.  If anyone has any updates on his condition, please share them with me as well.”

Over the weekend, two students will email Stella with the anxieties they’ve been experiencing and one reaches out to tell her that Hector Diaz has been put on a ventilator.

*****

At dinner that night, over lemon herb chicken and grilled asparagus, Stella tells them her plans for Monday’s class.

“Where you gonna pick?” Fish asks.

“I’ve been trying to come up with the answer to that question all day,” she answers.

“Does it have to be somewhere you want to go or somewhere you’ve already been?” Becca asks.

“Any place.  No restrictions.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Morocco,” Karen says.

“I really liked Japan,” Becca muses, stabbing at a spear of asparagus.  “I think I would go back there.”

“Bora Bora,” Hank answers, reaching under the table to slide his hand over Stella’s knee.  “Hands down, favorite vacation ever.”

“Oh?” she says.  “Not Switzerland?”

He chuckles and gives her knee a shake as he shakes his head.

“Karebear, soon’s this is over and things open up, we’ll go to Morocco.”

“Where would you go, Fish?” Stella asks.

“I like it here.”

“That’s cheating,” Hank says, ratting the ice cubes in his whiskey glass.  “You have to name another place.”

“Why?  I got my BBQ and I’m surrounded by beautiful ladies, not to mention your ugly mug.  Why’d I wanna go any place else?

”He has a point,” Stella answers, leaning into Hank’s side.  He pinches her knee and she slaps his hand in retaliation.

“I also want to go to Greece,” Becca says.

“Greece is lovely,” Stella tells her.  “Definitely go when you get a chance.”

They move on to another topic, but Stella continues to ponder where she’d choose to be, if she could be anywhere.  The sun is setting as they clear the dishes and it reminds her of her wedding day at the clearing behind the woods.  She pauses in rinsing plates and stares out the kitchen window.

Becca waves a hand in front of Stella’s face, breaking the light trance she finds herself in.  She blinks and hands Becca the plate to load into the dishwasher.  “Sorry,” she says.

“You totally zoned out there for a minute,” Becca says.

“The spot through the woods where your father and I were married, do you know the way there?”

“Sure.  It’s down the back path.”

“Can we go there?  Right now?”

“Yeah.”

They leave the rest of the dishes in the sink.  Karen is wiping down the table and Becca calls to her that they’ll be right back to finish up.  Stella follows Becca down the path away from the guest house.  The woods are more lush and overgrown than they had been in the fall of her wedding.  They step carefully so as not to trip over tree roots that have come unearthed, but finally they come out of it onto the other side and it’s just as she remembers it.

The sun is still above the treetops and the sky is a myriad of pastel shades of blue and pink and purple.  She steps onto the manicured lawn and pulls her phone out of her pocket.  She takes her time setting up the shot that she wants and then snaps a few photos.  Becca stands beside her and after a few moments, lays her head on Stella’s shoulder.  They stand quietly and watch the sun go down.

“I’m really glad you guys decided to come up and stay,” Becca says.  

“I am as well.”  Stella puts her phone in her pocket and links her arm with Becca’s.

“I thought I’d be cool being alone.  I like being alone.  And then after a week of it I was already...I guess I don’t like being alone as much as I thought I did.  I like to be by myself, but with other people around.  Does that make sense?”

“It does.”

“Why’d you want to come out to this spot?”

“Because I think that I already am where I want to be.”

“Like Fish.”

“Yeah.”

“I really hope that kid in your class is okay.”

“I do as well.”

“Do you think this will be over any time soon?”

Stella shakes her head lightly.  “Not any time soon.”

*****

Monday’s class goes well.  She starts off the informal chat by sharing that the photo she took over the weekend is where she was married and leaves it at that.  A majority of students have chosen tropical locations as their preferred destination.  One chooses his grandparent’s farm.  Another has a cabin in winter.  She’s surprised to see familiar scenery in one background that pops up.

“Am I mistaken, Mr. Peterson, or is that Kensington Gardens?” she asks.

“Yes ma’am,” he answers.  “My mother is from London.  Her parents lived in Bayswater and we would visit every summer when I was little.”

“Is it safe to say you likely read Peter Pan just as often?”

He nods and laughs.  “I was convinced the more time I spent there it might increase my chances of meeting him and being able to go to Neverland.”

“I have very fond memories of the park from my youth as well.”

The hours fly by and class comes to a close.  She reminds her students to start on the next chapter and submit any questions ahead of the next lecture.  When she closes her computer, she feels lighter.

At dinner, they ask how it went and though she would be able to recite to them every story she heard that day, she limits it to the most interesting or humorous.  It’s a good start to the week and it makes her feel optimistic.

*****

The weekend comes and Hank spends most of the day with Fish, in preparation for the children’s concert.  There are last minute practice sessions and testing of equipment to be done.  Stella is both surprised and amused that Hank has taken such an interest in helping Fish with his students.

At the prescribed time, Stella, Becca, and Karen gather in the sitting room where Becca has set up the Zoom link to appear on the television somehow.  Because the concert is early in the evening, dinner is postponed until later.  Some of Fish’s students are quite young, only five or six years old, and they have strict bedtimes.  The littlest one is a girl that plays Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on a pink guitar so small it’s hardly bigger than a ukulele.  

As the concert goes on, the kids progress in skill.  Hank’s duet with the boy named Dylan is towards the end.  It’s clear the boy is exceptional, but lacks confidence.  There’s a tremble in his voice when he introduces himself and the song.

“My name is Hank, I’ll be joining Dylan tonight,” Hank says.  “Any wrong notes you might hear belong to me and not the kid.”

The first few bars come slowly and haltingly, but once Dylan gets going, the song seems to pour out of him fluidly.  His eyes stay fixed on the screen like he’s following along with Hank, keeping in sync and on tempo.  When the song ends, the boy puffs his cheeks up and lets out a huge breath and his shoulders loosen.

“Virtual fist bump, D,” Hank says, holding a fist out and leaning towards the eye of the camera on him.  “Bring it in.”

There are three more students after Dylan, one other boy and lastly, two sisters on electric guitar playing I Love Rock ‘N Roll.  Even without knowing much about modern music or rock, Stella is quite impressed by the whole thing.

Dinner feels festive that night.  Fish floats high on the success of the concert and fields calls from happy parents as he grills steaks.  Becca reminisces about her time in a band and how much she used to love playing.  Karen finds some videos on her phone from a few of those concerts.  Hank tells a story about buying Becca her first guitar, and Becca follows with a story about Hank getting her an even better vintage guitar from a man that was clearly having a hard time making ends meet.

“He was trying to sell it back to the guitar store,” Becca says.  “He had a little kid with him and you could really tell things weren’t going great, otherwise he would not be getting rid of a ‘61 Les Paul Special.”

“Beckster, I hope you still have that guitar,” Fish says.  

“Of course I do.”

“Pete Townshend plays that guitar.”

“Who?” Hank asks.

“Wiseass,” Fish retorts.

“Anyway, the guy at the shop wasn’t interested,” Becca continues, and Stella recognizes the adoring look on her face as she tells the story.  “But, since we were there to get a guitar, we really didn’t care where it came from.  Dad stopped the guy on his way out and handed him an envelope of cash.”

Hank shrugs it off.  “Dads gotta stick together.”

They part ways for the night after dinner.  After finishing her nightly rituals in the bathroom, when she comes out, Hank is sitting on the edge of the bed with a guitar in his lap.  She stands before him, rubbing lotion into her hands and arms.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you play,” she says.

“Guess I just fell out of the habit.”

“You’re quite good.”

“I’ve been practicing something for you.”

“Have you?”

He nods and plucks the guitar strings softly as he adjusts the tuning pegs.  “Forgive the singing, I can barely carry a tune in a bucket.”

“A full serenade?” she asks with a smile.

“Goin’ all out for you.”

He starts playing and she doesn’t immediately recognize the tune, but just before he starts singing she realizes it’s Elton John’s Your Song.  He’s right about not being the world’s greatest singer, but she doesn’t hear any imperfections.  She only hears the man that loves her playing a song for her.  Never in a million years would she have considered herself to be susceptible to something so cliche and sappy, but she is.  It makes her chest ache in the best possible way, filled with how much she feels for him that she never thought she was capable of.

When he finishes, he looks up at her and smiles.  She takes the guitar out of his hands and sets it aside.  In two steps, she’s back before him and then straddles his lap.  He pulls her in close and she cups his face in her hands.

“Go slow,” she says.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Despite the request, he leans back just a little and takes the bottom of the shirt to pull it off.  He doesn’t remove her bra though, not yet.  Instead, he buries his face in the valley of her breasts.  He traces her peaks and curves with his tongue and then scrapes his teeth over the satin cups before pulling one side down to take her into his mouth.  She threads her fingers through his hair to encourage him, reminding herself that even if this act doesn’t do much for her, it’s a form of worship for him.

Without warning, he takes a hard grip on the backs of her thighs and stands just long enough to turn the tables and have her on her back on the bed.  He’s above her on his knees and reaches back to grab the collar of his shirt and yank it off.  She dips her fingers into the top of his jeans to pull him to her, but he takes her hands, one by one, and pins them to the bed above her head.

“Slow,” he says.

She nods, but arches up and pushes her chest into his.  He eases his weight onto her to keep her in place and she wraps her legs around his hips.  When he kisses her, he goes in deep and she moans her approval.  He releases her hands and she wraps her arms around his back as he cradles her head.

She’s never told him this, but one of the reasons she prefers hard and fast over slow is that she doesn’t like the time that slowness gives her to think.  It makes her susceptible, vulnerable, and opens something inside her like a deep need for more of him.  Not physically, but emotionally.  The slower he goes, the more she needs him and the more afraid she becomes of losing what she has because it’s so perfect.  Perfectly messy and challenging and exasperating and lovely and crazy and perfect.  Tonight, she thinks that if she were to ever lose him, she would lose so much more than just him. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing at all.”

“There’s something.”

“I think I just understand what you meant a few weeks ago when you told me I was the only thing that made sense to you.  Everything is right.  Even if the world seems like it’s falling apart, you feel right.  And...for the first time in my life, I am grateful to have someone by my side.”

“All that and you haven’t even been dicked down yet.  I should’ve been singing to you years ago.”

“Rest assured it certainly wasn’t your voice that led me to that conclusion.”

“Ouch.”

She caresses his back lightly and then holds the back of his neck as her thumbs skim along his jaw.  He leans in to kiss her again and again and again.  They rock against each other.  Stella pushes up and pulls him down just as he presses into her and pulls her up.  They’re both breathless before they even manage to start removing the rest of their clothes.  Her bra is the next thing to go and then his pants, her pants and lastly her panties.  His jockey shorts only make it past his hips.  

They both groan in relief when he enters her.  She folds her knees back towards her chest and takes a firm grip on his ass.  He starts off slow and deep, lazily rolling his hips against her.  There’s sweat at his temples, but not from exertion, from the self-control he’s using to make it last.  He pulls out and rolls them over so she’s on top.

“Giving up so soon?” she asks.

“Just giving you a chance to drive for awhile.”

“You’re a very generous lover.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

She holds his gaze as she sinks down onto him.  “I’m already right where I want to be.”

They play with the give and take for a bit, bantering and bartering for dominance and control of the pace, but then it gets serious.  He brings her to her first orgasm with his hands as she grinds down onto him and he waits for her thighs to stop quaking before bringing her to her hands and knees.  The stinging slap of his hand on her ass as he drives into her ushers in her second release.  He soon follows, groaning out his pleasure as he pulls so roughly at her hips that she can already feel the sweet bruises blooming under his fingers.

They both collapse.  He drags her up against him even though they’re both hot and sweaty and slippery.  Her hair is damp and clings to the back of her neck and shoulders.

“In case you were wondering if quarantine had affected my virility, I think you just got your answer,” he says.

“Your virility is always my top concern.”

“Mm.”  He kisses the back of her arm and rests the side of his face on her bicep.  “What do you think about going skinny dipping?  Unless you can only get naked in the pool with my ex.”

“Now?”

“You have other plans?”

“Yes, I’ve a rendezvous with my other husband in an hour’s time.”

“We can make it a quick dip then so you don’t have to keep him waiting.”

She chuckles softly as he presses exaggerated kisses down her arm and hip and belly.  And then he lays his head down on her thigh and she strokes his hair for some time, content to soak in the afterglow.  He finally gets up, goes to the bathroom, and returns with two towels.

“Come on, Sherlock,” he says.  “I want to get my naked in the pool with you.”

*****

Stella wakes in the morning to the sound of rain.  The room is darker than usual, even for the early hour.  She manages to slide out of bed without disturbing Hank and she grabs her robe to wrap up in before opening her laptop and sitting down at the small table in the corner.  She has four emails from late yesterday evening all with the subject: Hector Diaz.  She only opens the first one and then closes her laptop and sits in silence until Hank wakes.

“No fair not being naked,” Hank mumbles as his eyes drift open and shut.  He rolls over and stretches languidly.  When she doesn’t respond, he lifts up onto his elbows and blinks at her, hair spiking up unnaturally at all angles.  “What’s wrong, Sherlock?  Whatever I’ve done to piss you off before even waking up, I sincerely apologize.”

“My student succumbed last night.”

“Succumbed as in…”

Stella nods and steeples her hands in front of her chin.

“Shit,” Hank whispers and then drags half the bedsheets with him as he tries to get out of bed.  He kneels down next to where she’s sitting and looks up at her.  “Stella, I’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

*****

Sunday is brunch day, another meal where they gather together.  And though Stella has no appetite, she heads to the main house with Hank anyway, determined not to sit and wallow.  Besides, the rain has stopped and the sky is beginning to open up.  As they make their way across the soaked grass and around the pool, he hooks his pinkie finger with hers and gives her a squeeze.  She holds on, feeling anchored in that moment.

“Hey,” Karen greets as Hank opens the sliding door and ushers Stella inside.  “I just put a fruit platter in the fridge.  Becca wants waffles so I was looking for the...what happened?  What’s wrong?”

“Is it that obvious?” Stella asks, already weary.

“Her student,” Hank answers.

“Fuck.  No.  Fuck.  Really?”    Karen is on Stella in an instant, smothering her an embrace so tight it makes Stella’s eyes water.

“It’s okay,” Stella murmurs, patting Karen lightly on the back.

“It’s not okay.  I know you’re being polite, but it fucking sucks, that’s what it is.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

Karen sighs and releases Stella from her embrace, but keeps one arm around her shoulder.  “What can we do?” she asks.

“Nothing.  I need to consider what I’ll say in class tomorrow, but I don’t believe there’s anything that will help.”

“Right.  It just feels so senseless, doesn’t it?  All of it.  So…”

“Yes.”

“However you need to deal with it, we’re all here.  For whatever.”

“Thank you, I do appreciate that.”

Stella does appreciate the sentiment very much, but she knows she also has a long way to go when it comes to openly sharing her feelings without thoroughly processing them ahead of time.  She has spent too much of her life alone and had little use for depending upon anyone else.  And the simple fact is, she’s confused and frightened by this situation.  It’s not something she has authority or expertise in.  She can’t control it or delegate tasks on it and hold anyone accountable.  Even if she was still a DSI Gibson of the MPS, she would be futile.

*****

Stella spends Sunday evening in the upstairs office responding to messages from her students.  As word spreads, her inbox fills with hesitant inquiries if her offer to chat informally is still open.  She does her best to offer words of wisdom or comfort, knowing full well anything she says is inadequate.  

Even though Stella has left the door to the office open, Becca knocks on the frame and waits for an invitation before she enters.  Stella removes her glasses and beckons her in, glad for a reprieve from the glowing screen.  Words have started to blur.

“I’m going to make some hibiscus tea,” Becca says.  “Thought I’d see if you wanted some.”

“No, thank you.”

“Don’t trust a Yank with a tea kettle?”

Stella smiles.  “I can’t think of a thing I wouldn’t trust you with, darling girl.”

“I also wanted to ask if you’ve thought of what to say to your kids tomorrow.”  Becca plops down in the chair across from the desk and slouches, linking her fingers across her abdomen.

“My kids,” Stella murmurs, softly.  “Such an unfortunate age to be in your first years university, isn’t it?  Not quite an adult, not really a child.”

“Every age feels unfortunate when you’re there.  And then you look back and think, it wasn’t so bad as I thought.”

“Yes, I think you might be right about that.”

“Teen angst was just becoming fashionable when I went through it.  And I had a lot of it.”

“I can imagine that you did.”

Becca grins cheekily.  “A lot of it was just for attention.  Back then, with those two, they rarely heard anything except for themselves.”

“I’m glad things are different now for you.”

“I’m just glad they’re different.  I don’t know if the me of ten years ago could deal with the situation we’re in today.  Not like your kids.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was pretty ragey.  I felt really destructive.  Like I wanted to scream and yell and break shit all the time.  I got some of it out when I played music.  And then I started college not knowing what the hell I wanted to do.  Your kids though, they’re probably driven.  I can’t imagine anyone that isn’t highly focused or motivated studying criminology.  Wanting to make that their career.”

“Would it surprise you then to find out that I was more like you in my youth than you think?”

“Really?”  Becca looks at Stella with a certain degree of skepticism.  “No, I can’t really picture it.”

“My outlets were...less creative.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re definitely not the artsy type.  That’s for sure.  What were your outlets then?  Breaking shit?”

“Sex.  Drugs.  Self-harm.”

Becca’s eyebrows shoot straight up and she sits taller.  “No way.”

“Very destructive.  Yet, also highly focused and motivated.”

“Then I guess the question is, what would you go back and tell yourself if you were where we are now, but back then.”

“Ah.  That is what I’ve been pondering.”

“It’s like when people say they wish they knew then what they know now.”

“Yes, very much so.”

“I think you’ll figure it out then.  You’re the most intelligent person I know.”

“Thank you, Becca.  For this chat and for the offer for tea.”

“Anytime you want to try my tea, you let me know.  I can be trusted.”

“Absolutely.”

Becca pushes herself up from the arms of the chair and then she comes around to the back of the desk.  She leans down and Stella turns to meet her in an embrace.  Becca kisses Stella’s cheek before she leaves and a calmness comes over Stella.

*****

“I want to start today’s lecture by thanking each and every one of you for being here today,” Stella says.  “For finding the motivation to be present when I know this is probably not how you’d like to be spending your afternoon.  There wasn’t a single one out of all of you who did not reach out to me yesterday in response to Mr. Diaz’s passing.  I find that to be exceedingly remarkable and it speaks not only to your character, but also of the effect that one person can have on your life.”

She pauses, her eyes moving over the kaleidoscope of her students’ faces on her screen.  Tiny boxes holding the weight of grief and despair and disappointment.  

“I wish that I could tell you this soon will pass.  I wish that I could tell you this will be the last time you’ll have to endure what feels so senseless.  But, I also know that you are in my class and on this path because of who you are.

“You are the ones that want to make a difference.  You want to help.  You want to right wrongs.  You want to make the world a better place.  You will only do some of that.  Along the way you will feel discouraged, frustrated, and angry.  What you do with your frustration and anger, your grief over what you can not change, is what will define you, and either make you a better person, or not.

“I want to reiterate my request to you to seek help.  If not from me, from the school resources, from qualified professionals, from family, from friends.  I promise you it is not a weakness, it is a necessity.  And it is something I very much wish that someone had told me when I was in your position.”

Stella ends with a deep breath.  She considers the group in front of her again.  Her kids.  She feels a deep and painful connection with them in this moment that she knows intellectually is a form of trauma bonding, but it doesn’t make it less real.  They are the only ones who know what it’s like to be in this space, together, at this time.  It feels like a watershed moment in all their lives.  She only hopes the ultimate impact will be positive.

“Let us take a moment to thank Mr. Diaz for his contribution to our class and we’ll begin in his honor.”

*****

Stella comes down from her lecture feeling hopeful.  Despite everything, her class was engaged and thoughtful.  She expects to find everyone gathered in the sitting room or kitchen, as they tend to do in the late afternoon, but there’s only Fish, sitting on the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal, gazing out the window.

“Where is everyone?” she asks.

“Beckster and Karebear went for a walk.  Moody took over Dylan’s guitar lesson today so they can continue an argument over who rocks harder, The Stones or Zeppelin.”

“Thank you for giving him something to do.”

“No, thank you.  The kids love ‘im.  He’s helped expand the business.”

“I thought you did this for free.”

Fish shrugs.  “Business is business.  The more the better.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been remiss in thanking you for allowing us to stay with you.”

“Bah.”

“I feel I only ever really speak with Karen about it, but I should be thanking you as well.”

“More the better.  Family’s gotta stick together.”

“Yes, that’s what...I’m learning that.”

“Your class go okay?  Kids alright?”

“I think they will be.  I wish I knew how to do more though.  Actually, I’ve been giving it some thought lately and I think that I might enroll in some psychology courses.”

“Huh.  Would’ve thought with all you’ve done you’d’ve studied some psych.”

“Yes, I have two of my degrees in Abnormal Psychology and Forensic Psychology.  But, I was thinking of studying Child Psychology this time around.”

“How many degrees you got?”

“Hundreds,” she murmurs.  

Fish nods thoughtfully.  “Architecture?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I got one up on ya then!”

She smiles.  “And I can not play an instrument either.”

“I’ll teach ya.  Come on in the studio some time.”

“I may have to take you up on that offer once the semester ends.”

“Hot dog.  Got a guitar with your name on it even.”

“In two weeks time, I’d be happy to join the ranks of your esteemed pupils.”

*****

The week drags by.  Even the weather seems depressed, raining most mornings and staying overcast throughout the day.  Her students are subdued.  Stella starts sleeping fitfully again, exhausting herself by the weekend.  Sunday morning she wakes alone, which is strange.  She’s usually up well before Hank on any given day and it’s still fairly early.  It’s brunch day, so she doesn’t feel much compulsion to get up, but when she looks at her phone she also realizes it’s Mother’s Day.

Although she wonders where Hank has gone, she’s only mildly curious and not worried.  It’s entirely possible he needed to help Fish with some lessons and forgot to inform her.  She is surprised that she didn’t even feel him slip out of bed or hear him leave.

Stella gets out of bed and opens the closet.  She’s had a gift for Karen stowed away that she’s needed to wrap for a few weeks: a photo of Becca on an evening they’d gone to dinner, back when she’d visited London and Hank and Stella were still living there.  She’d had the photo turned to black and white, printed, matted and framed.  Thank goodness for online ordering.  All she needs to do is wrap it in tissue paper and arrange it nicely in the gift bag she also ordered.

And there’s also the matter of the card.  She’s had it for weeks and has struggled to find the words she wants to write.  It’s times like this that she’s envious of Hank and of Becca and their ability to express themselves so honestly.  She sits at the desk with the blank card and a pen in hand.

Karen,

Thank you for sharing your daughter with me and for welcoming me into her life as well as yours.  You will never know how much I have learned about what it means to be a mother from you.  Thank you for your generosity and wisdom.  You are an inspiration and you will forever have my esteem and my admiration and my gratitude.

Warm regards, Stella

Stella sighs and puts down the pen.  It’s taken her a quarter of an hour to write the card and she’s still not sure if it’s adequate.  It will have to be.  She slips the card into its envelope, seals it, and writes Karen’s name on the front before she tucks it into the gift bag.  And then she gets herself ready for brunch.

It’s surprisingly sunny and warm out.  No rain and not a cloud in the sky.  Karen is sitting at the patio table with sunglasses on, reading a book, when Stella comes up to the house.  She waves her hand slightly as Stella approaches and closes her book.

“We’re banned from the kitchen,” Karen says.  “They’re cooking up some sort of surprise in there.”

“Do we trust them?”

“I think so.  Knowing Fish he would try to grill pancakes if he could, but since we’re not banned from the patio, that’s probably a good sign.”

Stella laughs and sits down across from Karen.  Shyly, she slides the gift bag across the table towards her, grateful that she actually has the opportunity to give Karen the gift while they’re alone.

“What’s this?” Karen asks.

“I wanted to get you something.”

“Oh my god, you’re so sweet.  You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, I guess that makes us even because I got you something too.”  Karen reaches down and presents a similarly sized gift bag to Stella.  They both laugh.

“Shall we open them at the same time?”

“Yes.”

Stella rifles through the tissue paper in her bag and Karen does the same.  Since Karen takes the card out first, Stella does the same.  Her name is written on the front in black calligraphy.  The card itself is made of parchment paper and very simple.  There are two birds in watercolor on the front, a large bird and a smaller bird.

Stella - Let me be the first to wish you the happiest of Mother’s Days and know that I couldn’t have asked for a better bonus Mom for Becca than you.  You have enriched her life as well as mine and I am so so so so so so so happy to share this day with you.

Love, Karen

“You’re gonna make me cry,” Karen says, putting the card down and reaching across the table for Stella’s hands.  Stella’s own eyes are watering as she gives Karen’s her hands.

“Words are not my forte like how they are for Hank and Becca,” Stella says.

Karen squeezes Stella’s hands tightly.  “Are you kidding me?  This is an amazing card, thank you.”

“What you wrote means a lot to me as well.”

“Ach, okay.”  Karen lets go of Stella’s hands and then fans her face for a few moments.  “Too much emotion without food.  Let’s see what we got!”

There’s square box inside Stella’s bag and when she slices through the tape holding it closed with her thumbnail, she finds a framed photo of her and Becca from her wedding day.  They both laugh again when they realize they both got each other photos of Becca.

“Obviously, Mom minds think alike,” Karen says.

“That must be it.”

They’re still laughing when Becca comes outside, holding a pitcher.  She gives them both a rather dubious look.  “What’s so funny?” she asks.

“Look what we got each other!” Karen exclaims, holding up her photo.  “Photos of you!”

“You guys are weird.”

“And it’s your fault, Rebecca Moody,” Karen answers, lightly smacking Becca on the backside just as Hank comes out the door with five champagne flutes in his hand.

“What’s she done?” Hank asks.  “Whatever it is, I take full responsibility.  Daughter, I will defend thee to the death.”

“They’re being weird and blaming me.  And now you’re being weird.”

“Actually,” Karen says.  “If you think about it, it really is Hank’s fault.  If he hadn’t knocked me up, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Yes, I will definitely take all the credit there,” Hank answers, placing glasses around the table.  “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Mimosas?” Stella asks, nodding at the pitcher in Becca’s hands.

“Bellinis.”

“Wow, you guys went all out,” Karen says.

“Thank you,” Stella says as Becca pours her a Bellini, but she looks at Hank when she says it.

*****

Brunch is exceedingly festive.  They eat too much, they drink too much, and laugh a lot.  Becca presents Karen with a necklace and Stella with a bracelet, both of which are sterling silver chains holding three interlocking rings of diminishing sizes in copper, gold, and silver.  When Karen asks if it’s supposed to be the three of them, Becca tells her they’re meant to represent the links between the past, present, and future.  Stella would like to blame the champagne for the tears that spring to her eyes, but she can’t.

Late in the afternoon, she and Hank return to the guest house and she’s full and drowsy.  He lays down with her and she falls asleep to the warm press of his lips on just about every patch of exposed skin he can find.  When she wakes, it’s dark outside and Hank is at the table with half a sandwich in his mouth and papers strewn all over.  He’s shirtless, glasses on, a red pen behind his ear.  He rips a piece of sandwich off with his teeth and chews quickly.

“What’s up, Sleeping Beauty?” he asks.

“How long was I out for?”

He shrugs.  “Hungry?  Made some PBJs a bit ago.”

“Still full from brunch.  You should’ve woken me.”

He takes his glasses off, puts his unfinished sandwich down, and sits back in his chair.  He folds his hands and swivels back and forth a little as he looks at her.  “You needed it,” he finally says.

“I suppose I did.”

“Feeling better?”

“Refreshed, more or less.”  She sits up and slides out of bed with the wobbliness of the freshly woken.  “You editing?”

“Sort of.”

“Mm.”  She rubs her eyes and stretches.

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Yes.”

“I’m writing a song.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  I mean, trying.  I’m doing the lyrics and Fish is going to write the melody.”

“Oh, it’s Fish now?  Are the two of you, dare I say, best friends now?”

“Let’s not go that far.”

“So, you’ve formed a band?”

“Yeah, the new Simon & Garfunkel.”

“Well, I think it’s lovely.”

“Reserve your judgement until we actually manage to piece together a song.”

Stella slides one arm around Hank’s shoulder and sits down in his lap.  He pulls back a little in surprise, but circles her hips and turns to a more comfortable angle in the chair.  She strokes his nape and touches his face.

“Have you thought about returning to New York at all?” she asks.  “Not that we’re able to, but have you thought about it?”

He holds a breath for a moment and then expels it roughly and shakes his head a little.  “No.  You?”

She shakes her head no as well.  “I think it was a wise decision, coming here.”

“I have to begrudgingly agree.”  He tips his head back and looks down the bridge of his nose at her.  “The skinny dipping may have tipped the scales, so feel free to make that a regular occurance.”

She pinches the back of his neck lightly in response and he gasps and then scoops her up into his arms as he gets up from the chair.  She laughs and holds on as he tries to dump her onto the bed so he ends up going down with her.

“Should we test that virility of yours?” she asks, drawing one finger lightly up his spine.

“I could go for a check-up.”

She hums a little and touches his face.  He presses his cheek into her hand and then turns to kiss her palm.  The bracelet Becca gave her slips down her arm a few inches and Stella stares at it as Hank nuzzles the inside of her wrist.

“Karen was right,” Stella says.

“I hate it when she’s right.  About what?  Coming here?”

Yes, but if not for you, we wouldn’t be here.”

“Funny how it sounds less accusatory coming from you.”

“She’s grateful.  You know she is.”

“All that matters to me is how you feel.”

“Also grateful.  You have given me the family I never knew I wanted or needed.”

“Then I take full credit for knocking Karen up back in the day and we won’t even mention how lousy she was at remembering to take her birth control.”

Stella chuckles and closes her eyes as Hank leans in to kiss her face.  She wraps her arms around him and holds on tight.

The End

[emy-loves-you]

Sanders Sides AU-gust Day 5: Post-Apocalypse

Remus gets injured while running away from a hoard. Janus tends to his wounds, and they make a new friend

Janus POV, Dukeceit, parental Moxiety and slight parental Anxceit

Day 4 | Masterlist | Day 6

“What on earth were you thinking!?!”

Remus smiled, completely ignoring the large gash in his arm. “They were after me! And I had to get back to the love of my life!” He waggled his eyebrows, and Janus barely resisted the urge to smack him.

“Why didn’t you go around the barbed wire fence? You knew where the entrance was!”

“Because it was quicker to go over the fence, duh. And so much more fun. I felt like I was in an action-horror movie!” He pumped his arms into the air, completely ignoring his injury.

Janus sighed, moving to grab the first-aid kit. “And why didn’t you wear your jacket? You know how difficult it is for zombies to bite through that thing. And you probably wouldn’t need stitches right now if you had worn it.”

Remus pouted. “Because you were sleeping with it! And if I’d woken you up you would’ve convinced me to stay.”

“Yeah, because there definitely weren’t over 300 zombies in the area!”

“You know I would do it again in a heartbeat!” Remus’ smile was completely gone (was it ever truly there in the first place?) and Janus sighed as he directed Remus to sit on the nearest tree stump. They stood in silence for several minutes as Janus tended to Remus’ injury. For the first half of the procedure, there were no sounds beyond Remus’ quiet hissing when Janus tugged too harshly on a stitch.

After most of the wound was closed, Janus spoke up. “You know he’s probably dead.” He kept his eyes trained on the stitches. He didn’t need to look up to know what expressions lied on Remus’ face. They’ve had this conversation dozens of times, after all.

Remus sighed. “I know. But if there’s even the smallest chance that Ro’s alive, I’m gonna find him.” Janus offered no sympathy. He knew that would only fuel the fire. “I can’t lose him, Jan. Not again.”

Janus remained silent as he tended to Remus’ wound. As he finished stitching and moved on the bandaging, Janus let his mind wander. It’s been almost 3 years since the outbreak started. Janus and Remus were just friends at the time. Remus and Roman (Remus’ twin brother) had gotten into an argument right before Roman moved across the country. After the outbreak started, Remus had made it his goal to find Roman. A difficult goal, especially since the zombies had multiplied overnight, making it impossible to travel on road or through cities. But Remus never gave up. So here they were, over 2,000 miles away from home, searching for any signs of life while barely surviving themselves.

Once Janus had Remus completely patched up, they packed up to leave. The scent of Remus’ blood would eventually attract zombies. It would be best to travel as far as possible before setting up camp for the night.

They walked for around 6 hours, talking about whatever topic came to mind. Well, it was more of Remus bringing up a random topic and Janus bringing up different counterarguments. They eventually made camp down by a stream in the middle of the woods. The sun was close to setting as Janus collected wood to start a fire. Remus moved deeper into the forest, likely searching for deer or rabbits. Janus quickly set up the fire, dragging a fallen tree nearby to use as a bench. Just as Janus was starting to wonder what was taking Remus so long, he heard a rustle from behind him. “Finally decide to show up, Remus? Did some sort of poisonous or toxic creature distract you?” He turned around to see someone that was decidedly not Remus.

Crouching in the thick foliage was a child, no older than 6. He had long brown hair and oversized black hoodie. His hair had multiple braids running through it, but it had obviously been several days since they were put in, judging from the multiple twigs and knots that Janus could see. Large brown eyes fearfully stared into Janus’ soul.

Janus slowly moved to sit on the log behind him. It would be better if the child believed he wouldn’t run up and grab him. “Hello, little one.” Janus’ voice was much softer now, and he noticed how the child appeared nervous but didn’t flinch. “My name is Janus. What’s yours?” The child didn’t answer, instead looking over at the decently-sized fire. “Would you like to join me? My partner should be here soon, and he’ll have food for us to cook and eat.” The child glanced between Janus and the fire, seemingly weighing his options. “If it makes you more comfortable, I promise I won’t get off of this log unless absolutely necessary. You needn’t be afraid. Neither my partner nor I would ever harm a child.”

The child weighed his options for a few more moments before stepping forwards. He slowly approached the fire, not taking his eyes off of Janus. Once he was in grabbing range and Janus hadn’t reached out for him, the child’s entire body seemed to relax. Janus watched as the child winced and pulled a stick out of his hair. “Would you like some assistance with that?” The child looked up at Janus, his shoulders tense again. “I could clean and rebraid your hair, if you want me to.” The child stared at him for a few moments before slowly approaching. After a few more minutes of coaxing, the child was soon sitting in Janus’ lap, watching the fire as Janus fixed his hair.

For once, Janus was grateful that the virus killed off kids rather than infecting them. He could bash in the face of a 30-year-old zombie any day (he usually did so daily). But if he had seen this child running after him, bloody and rotting? Janus didn’t know what he would do.

The child winced as Janus pulled out a stubborn stick. “My apologies.” Janus murmured softly. “I’m afraid it’s been many years since I last dealt with long hair.” The child seemed to relax at Janus’ tone, so Janus kept talking. “I’m surprised that you managed to find this campsite, much less approach us. You must be very brave, child.” The child muttered something under his breath. “What did you say?”

“m not brave, ‘m just Virgil.”

Janus smiled softly as he worked on braiding Virgil’s hair. “Well, Virgil. I feel like you’re not seeing what I’m seeing. I see a strong child who faced his fears and did what he had to do to survive. What do you see?”

Virgil started shaking, and it took Janus a moment to realize that he was crying. “They said I couldn’t do anythin’ ‘cause ‘m small.” Janus started to rub the child’s back as he shook more. “I thought I could do it on my own but I can’t! I miss Uncle Lo and his facts. I miss Uncle Ro and his songs. I miss my Papa!”

The child was sobbing by this point. Janus turned Virgil around so he could bury his face in Janus’ chest. Janus rubbed small circles into Virgil’s back as he cried. “There there.” He whispered. “It’s alright. We’ll find your Papa.” Janus did not like to make such claims. He never did so with Remus with his quest to find Roman, so why should he do so with Virgil?

Maybe it was because of the way Virgil relaxed after he’d said it. Maybe it was because Virgil was just a child, and will hopefully forget the promise. Maybe it was because Janus didn’t want this kid to grow up an orphan. But it didn’t matter, because he’d already said it.

Once the kid stopped crying, turned back around so that he continued facing the fire. Janus smiled as Virgil leaned back so that he was laying against Janus’ chest. They stayed like that for several minutes before they heard more rustling from the other side of the fire. Virgil seemed to see the person’s face before Janus did. Instead of burying himself into Janus, like he’d expected, Virgil instead jumped out of Janus’ lap. He quickly ran around the fire, shouting in relief. “Ro! Ro! R- oh.”

Janus kept his eyes on Remus, who was staring at the child with a carefully blank expression. Before he could potentially frighten the child, Janus spoke up. “Virgil, I would like you to meet Remus, my boyfriend. Remus, this is Virgil. I was hoping we could watch over him until he is reunited with his father.”

Remus’ face went through a myriad of emotions before sticking with happy. For once, Janus was grateful for Remus’ obsession with theatre. It made him an amazing actor, after all. “Of course! There’s always room for one more!” He reached down to poke Virgil’s belly, and Janus was surprised to hear the child giggle. Remus stood back up and offered Janus the deer carcass he’d hunted earlier. “Sorry it took so long. I spotted two giant spiders mating in the woods. The female bit off the male’s head!”

Virgil mumbled something as he made his way back to Janus. “What was that, Virgil?”

“...spiders are cool.”

Remus’ smile became less forced. “I’ll take you to see them tomorrow.”

They sat in relative silence as Janus worked to prepare the deer meat. Remus had already drained it, thankfully, so Janus mainly needed to skin it. Janus watched out of the corner of his eye as Virgil attempted to scoot closer to him. “Would you like something, Virgil?”

Virgil seemed surprised that Janus had called him out. “Nothing!”

Janus internally sighed. It would take a while for Virgil to fully come out of his metaphorical shell. “Do you know how to skin a deer, Virgil?” The child shook his head. “Would you like to learn how?”

Virgil suddenly found his shoes extremely interesting. “I’m not allowed to touch knives.”

“I didn’t ask that.” Virgil’s head shot up. “I asked if you wanted to learn how to skin a deer.” Virgil nodded frantically, and Janus barely stopped himself from smirking. “Alright, come closer and I’ll show you how.”

Virgil sat in Janus’ lap as he carefully removed the deer’s skin. After a few minutes of explanation and demonstration, he handed Virgil the knife. He kept his hands on Virgil’s the entire time, and there were luckily no injuries from the experience. They lost a little bit of meat from where Virgil cut too deep, but it wasn’t too bad for his first time with a knife. While Janus cooked the meat, Remus told Virgil whatever stories popped into his mind. Janus was glad that Remus kept the stories PG, and was surprised that Virgil preferred some of Remus’ darker tales.

After a few more hours of eating and storytelling, Virgil let out a yawn. Janus smiled. “Are you tired?” Virgil nodded, his eyes already starting to close. “Then we’ll wake you in the morning. Sleep tight, Virgil.”

Once the two of them were sure that Virgil was asleep, Remus started whispering. “Okay, what the fuck is going on!?”

Janus sighed, making sure to keep his voice down. “From what I’ve gathered, Virgil and his father travel with your brother and a third adult that goes by ‘Lo.’ A few days ago, one of them told Virgil that he couldn’t help them because he’s too young. Wanting to prove them wrong, he ran away and found our fire.”

Remus was in deep concentration. “So Roman IS alive.”

Janus nodded. “Possibly. If he is, than he is most likely nearby, searching for Virgil.”

Remus nodded before looking over at Virgil. “I don’t know why they wouldn’t let him help.”

Janus sighed. “He is rather young, Remus.”

Remus waved him off. “I know, I know. And before all of this shit happened, I would’ve agreed. He’s way too young to handle knives or fire. But we’re not living anymore. We’re surviving. And this kid needs to learn how to survive in case he’s on his own again.”

“And I perfectly agree.” They sat there for another hour as the fire started to dwindle. Remus offered to take first shift, so Janus kissed him goodnight before laying down next to Virgil. And if Janus’ heart melted a bit when Virgil grabbed the front of Janus’ shirt in his sleep?

Well, no one had to know about that, did they?

[isladeroda]

Chapter 1 - Heartbeat of Steam

It was one thing to hear the location described in the debriefing. An underground base of sorts, forged entirely out of brass and running on steam. True to what the group had been told, exposed cogs and pumps were visible the moment the beheld the entrance to the lair of their enemy. The hiss of steam could be heard from deeper within, and already, the amount of noise filling the air made it clear that communicating within the structure was going to be difficult. Luckily, that had been discussed ahead of time, and hand gestures had been practiced for many different situations.

Doctor Clara stepped tentatively towards the entrance, her hand-picked team of Operators at her sides and front. Operators Cuora, Alcatraz, Heat, Scavenger, Shirayuki, Projekt Red, and Perfumer had been selected to take part, but another guest had been selected - Rhodes Island’s own Head Engineer, Closure. Her presence was deemed necessary in case the group ran into any unfamiliar machinery, and the Head Engineering Officer was deemed the best fit - no doubt in part to her eagerly volunteering for a chance to check out the unusual engineering in play.

“Wow, despite how archaic the technology seems, this is actually pretty advanced...” As the group got closer, the Sarkaz took every opportunity she could to examine the machinery, nodding to herself a few times. “Already I can tell there’s a number of redundant systems, not out of laziness, but to pick up the slack if any one part fails... And how they manage to get them all to work together when the primary function is unnecessary is astounding... Hmmm...”

The group stopped at the entrance, not just to let Closure look a little closer at the machinery, but to gauge things immediately. If the enemy group had learned they were coming, they’d either ready an ambush, or try to bait them deeper in... And the Doctor knew the latter was unlikely, so after a few moments, the team proceeded to push in further.

“Agh, I can barely hear myself think...” Cuora complained from her place near the back of the single-file formation, her voice nearly drowned out by all of the noise. Similarly, Projekt Red was clearly uncomfortable, only in part from the noise, but as the temperature had clearly rocketed up at least another 10 degrees, Red had already regretted bringing her heavy coat. Shirayuki, befitting her usual modus operandi, had disappeared above them, presumably traveling by means of the pipes that hung overhead. Everyone else, thankfully, seemed more comfortable in the heat, yet the knowledge that they wouldn’t be able to communicate traditionally hung over the group.

The hallways themselves were thin, but rather than typical, solid metal, they were clearly more along the lines of maintenance catwalks, the heavy steel mesh that served as their footholds and the railings that kept them from falling off the side were all hung over more exposed machinery, likely for the sake of ease of access in case any of the seemingly-delicate machinery failed. Now and again, a square of walkway that split into multiple other hallways would “circle” around an important-looking piece of equipment that Closure would pause briefly to examine before the group could continue their exploration.

And yet, Doctor Clara was totally on edge. The lights were literally still on, but nobody was home. They hadn’t seen a single foe since they began to probe deep into the facility and explore, no signs of security... Nothing to stop would-be intruders. Occasionally they came across a locked door with no way to open it from their side, and had to turn back, but that was the only real security measure, and one easily subverted, as there had to be a way to open the doors - a control panel or the like.

Eventually, the team exhausted all of their options, and began traveling down one final path, before eventually coming to a room with a series of conveyor belts that crossed overhead and underneath, carrying metal scrap and unusual-looking parts. Was this a manufactory of sorts? And who was using it? Perhaps this was the group supplying weapons to Reunion... However, unable to make anything other than an educated guess, the group soldiered on, eventually coming to another locked door...

All seemed hopeless before Shirayuki appeared before them and, using hand motions, submitted the idea of using the conveyor belts to travel. The openings were large enough for a person to fit through, though they’d likely want to avoid the ones with scrap on them - those were likely being melted down, and the group would definitely not want a death by melting in molten metal. The group nodded unanimously, before they found a conveyor belt matching their prerequisites, and leaped down onto it.

Curiously, the sound of machinery began to quiet as they followed the conveyor belt, though it was still ever-present. Soon, it opened up into a larger room where mechanical humanoids were clearly being assembled... By nothing other than automated tools, cranes, and mechanical arms on an assembly line. As the group hopped off onto the floor of the assembly room, Closure in particular excitedly examined the various pieces of equipment while everyone else was on-guard.

"There’s no workers, no guards, not even any repairmen... This is beyond strange.” Heat stated, his eyes narrowed and his hand firmly on the weapon at his side. “Even a place like this can’t run fully automated... Can it?” Alcatraz and Scavenger nodded in agreement, very clearly on-guard while Projekt Red and Cuora kept close to Closure, both making sure to keep her safe while she made her observations, and also a bit curious as to the goings-on, themselves.

“You’re not wrong.” Closure eventually spoke up, turning to the group. “Even automated systems need someone to monitor them, moderate them... Ensure that they’re all working accordingly and fix them when they don’t. And for a system with this many moving parts to it, there would have to be at least some repairmen or engineers we’d have encountered on the way...” The group pondered on this idea for a brief moment, only to be interrupted by Perfumer voicing her thoughts.

“Um... I know this might be a stupid question, but... what if it self-repairs?” The group looked between each other as Closure thought to herself before checking a piece of machinery and looking closer. For a few moments, the others weren’t sure what she was looking for, before she stood up straight again and wore a grim expression on her face.

“You... might be right. Less so fantastical as self-repairs, like... It’s not just magically fitting everything back into place. There’s no Originium in these machines, as far as I can tell to facilitate something as absurd as artificial Arts, but... It’s possible they even have an automated repair system.” Scavenger was the first to ask what that meant. Did they have repair arms in the walls behind the gears or something?

“No, nothing so unnecessary... It’s likely that there’s automated drones that fly - or more likely walk or drive - out the moment an error in the system occurs.” Closure spoke with an air of near-certainty. The more she thought about it out loud, the more and more it all seemed to fit neatly into place. “The redundant systems can keep the facility running at partial capacity, while the drones repair the primary functions... It’s like a backup generator for any given piece of machinery. Frankly, it’s genius. There’s just one small problem...”

“...Someone still needs to moderate all of it. Even just check up on it once in a while.” The Doctor spoke up, looking over to their engineer. Closure nodded in agreement, her arms crossed over her midsection in thought, a grim expression on her face.

“So we’re likely to meet whoever we’re looking for deeper in the facility.” Doctor Clara said, speaking to the rest of the group. “But we still need to locate a control panel or something similar from which we can begin to operate the doors in conduct a full search. So for now, that will be our goal. Understood?” The group verbalized their understanding before beginning to move out once more, quickly locating an operable door and walking through.

On the other side was another, brief hallway, that soon lead to a set of stairs going up. Following the staircase, and one more door later, soon the group was treated to a large room with numerous bits and pieces of machinery on the walls, operating at a much quieter volume than the other areas of the facility. It almost felt like a break room for the team, if not for the fact that a terminal and a set of monitors was located on the opposite side of the room that the group quickly rushed over to.

“Well, that was easy! Thank you, sensible lair design~” Closure had already begun to work with the keys and buttons, quickly figuring out their purposes as she went through the data on the terminal. Soon, she realized she was into more important files, including one labeled “Doctor’s Reports”. Had she perhaps just discovered the jackpot? The personal files of someone part of the R&D team responsible for this place, perhaps? “There isn’t even any internal security, which is - ”

The Sarkaz had clearly spoken too soon, as the machinery on the walls suddenly came to life violently as an alarm began to blare throughout the room. The floor opened up near the walls, almost immediately followed by Terran-sized containers rising up through the holes. With gushes of steam that briefly filled the room and soon dissipated through the vents throughout it, the containers opened up to reveal a number of mechanical humanoids wielding various weaponry, from bows and swords to axes and spears.

Immediately the group drew out their weapons and prepared to engage the enemy on the Doctor’s orders. Looking back to Closure, who met her gaze and nodded, Doctor Clara began to issue orders to her group, holding off the advancing robots while Closure began to work through the system and turn off the security systems.

The waves of robots seemed almost endless, but after a minute or two of fighting, the alarm finally died down and the containers that dived down and rose back up with new soldiers finally retreated for good. With the final robot defeated, the Operators all breathed a sigh of relief.

“Sorry about that~!” Closure looked back with a wink and an apologetic grin. “Must’ve tripped something, because I think I’ve got some really good stuff here... Sadly, it’s all encrypted, so I’ll have to get it backed to Rhodes to get it analyzed, but from here, I can totally access the rest of the facility! We’ve got our ticket in, folks!”

“All right.” Doctor Clara nodded to Closure, who began to upload the files in question, before looking to her team. “We’re gonna regroup to Rhodes Island, everyone. Likely adjust our team formation, now that we know more of what we’re dealing with, but I think you’ll all still take part in further exploration of this facility. Understood?”

Replying in the affirmative, the team prepared to leave as Closure finished up her copying of the files. Even as everyone began to talk about the possibility of what may lie ahead, Doctor Clara’s sinking feeling didn’t fade just yet... What was this place for? It seemed way too complex to just be a weapons construction facility, not to mention the lack of intelligent personnel... And on top of all of that...

...Why did it feel so familiar...?

[jinfilms]

mobile header tutorial

hello! I’m here to share how to create a header similar to these that i’ve done in the past. here are the tools i’m using:

photoshop cc 2018 (from @birdysources)

some picture of hoseok probably from either twitter or weverse i don’t remember lol

i included pictures and tried to make it VERY beginner friendly, but please, send me an ask or dm if i’m unclear at any point. it’s 2:38 am as i’m making this tutorial and i just downed my cold brew so i’m sorry if it’s messy

1: open your picture in photoshop (here’s the picture of hobi if u wanna follow along)

2: find the quick selection tool

you’ll find it in the left sidebar, fourth from the top. i’ll often use this and the tool above it (polygonal lasso tool) depending on the photo. the quick selection tool is faster but more tedious, in my opinion, but hoseok was easy enough to cut out just using the quick select. use both! whatever u are comfortable with. 

here are my settings for the tool:

i almost always keep it at 3px. unless the image is huge, then i’ll go up to 5px, but never really above that. 

3: trace over your subject(s) (aka hobi) by dragging the tool along the edges, until you’re happy with the accuracy: 

4: find Select and Mask (directly above the image):

and here are the settings i’m using:

then press ‘Ok’ !

5: Select Inverse (right click inside subject)

now we’re going to press ‘backspace’ on your keyboard, and the background will be gone~ 

make sure your file isn’t locked! it should be labeled ‘Layer 0′ and not ‘Background’ (if it’s locked, just double click it and press ‘Ok’ on the window that pops up)

after pressing backspace to delete the background, it should look like this: 

then deselect it all. now is the time to look closer at your newly made render and see if there’s any cleaning up to do. i’m good to go, so i’m gonna continue on with making my header. 

tip: drag the subject (hobi) with the move tool (very top tool on your left sidebar) to the center so he’s in the very middle. it should click to the center (you’ll see the pink line) 

it’s not necessary for the tutorial but if you plan on saving this render as a .png and dispersing the renders you make-- it’s just cleaner looking to have them centered! 

6: File > New 

i always use 800 x 430 for mobile headers. for gifs, i size it down to 650 x 349.

7: resize and drag hobi into the new canvas (Image > Image Resize) 

for single subjects like this i usually resize them to ~300 to ~400. whatever you think looks best tbh

now drag the file from its place up top:

then the file from where it’s labeled ‘Layer 0′

8: now hobi is inside the canvas where the actual header is going to be made~ you can get rid of the render, or save it as a .png, whatever u plan on doing w it

i’m gonna center my hobi for the header i plan on making! from this point it’s just gonna be coloring, sharpening, etc. if you’re interested in using any textures like flowers or bring in other renders of objects, DeviantArt is a great place to search for texture packs. @beapanda on DeviantArt makes beautiful resources (kpop and non kpop related) be sure to credit them or whoever u save ur textures from! 

for this header i’m not going to be using any outside resources, i just want my hobi to be the focus~ 

for the background, i’m gonna use a gradient from this site (this pack is 200 images. phew) 

i’m using no. 200 from that pack.

9: optional- i’m gonna make some extra layers and start coloring hobi using clipping masks. 

make a new layer > right click the new layer and find ‘create clippink mask’ > set the layer to either color, overlay, or multiply (whatever you think looks best and does what u are trying to achieve)

here i’ve just make layers to color things like his hair, his hoodie, and baby mang

here’s with vs without: 

and when you’re done, go ahead and right click your primary layer (subject layer) and click ‘merge clipping mask’.

10: coloring~ 

find a psd you like or being to color the header yourself. for this header i’m gonna be using a homemade psd. i’m not gonna go into detail bc there are sooo many places to find psds on tumblr and deviantart. just like you brought hobi into the header canvas, drag your psd there, and that’s how u apply a psd. 

when u are happy with the coloring, right click the bottom layer and flatten the image. 

11: topaz clean + unmask sharpen

topaz clean is an addition u have to manually add to your photoshop program. u can google how to do it, but if anyone’s struggling i can show u how i did if i remember (but i’m pretty sure i do)

topaz settings:

unsharp mask settings (go to filter > sharpen > unsharp mask): 

honestly, topaz is completely unnecessary, but i like the way it looks so i’m gonna go with it anyway. sharpening the header alone will still give you a great outcome

12: final step, header border time~

over on my film/tv blog @gusdapperton​ i’ve made a header template pack (click here if u just wanna use my premade borders) but for this tutorial i’m gonna show u how i actually made those (minus the cloud one, i was just fucking around lol) (it’s so simple)

>>> if u DO just save one of the borders i made in that pack, resize it so the width is at 800 and drag it to your header canvas. set the layer to ‘screen’ and bang there u go! 

BUT with that method u can’t change the color from white. so if u want a border with any other color, keep following the tutorial >>>

go to view > rulers and select that to show the rulers (duh)

click from inside the ruler (light grey) and drag out your guides. here are where i’m placing mine:

they should ‘snap’ right into place, but if they don’t, make sure u go to view > snap and that’ll fix it. u will know what i mean once u try it lol

select the curvature pen tool (right click the pen tool to show more tool options):

and begin to place your dots. thanks to the guides, these dots will also snap into place

here are mine: 

(i eyeballed the two in the middle, it doesn’t need to look perfect tbh)

this next step is sorta stupid but i haven’t found a better way to do it yet lol

to close the shape just make sure to closely follow the direction of the dot you last placed, then go around to make your way back to the first... it looks silly but like this:

just play around with the shape and the tool... u will get the hang of it lol

now look up ^ and press Selection

then ‘Ok’ in the next window. then boom~ there’s your selection for the border we’re about to make.

make a new layer then select the rectangular marquee tool (second from the top on the left sidebar) and either drag with your mouse or use the arrow keys to move the selection we just made. here is where i’m placing mine:

then select your paint bucket tool (if you can’t find it, right click the gradient tool and it’ll be one of the sub tools, like i showed u with the pen tool)

make a new layer, then fill it in (i’m using white)

you can stop there, but to make that line like i did in my border template pack, press the down arrow on your keyboard and go down 5-10 pixels, press backspace, go down the same amount of pixels, and re-fill that area. 

now unselect. there’s the border~ 

now go to view > clear guides to get rid of those. u don’t need em anymore :) i’m also going to move the border we’ve just made down to the bottom of the canvas since we don’t need that big gap there. 

>>> tip, don’t fill in the white directly on the layer if you wanna change the color. create a new layer on top of the border layer, right click > create clipping mask > fill the layer with the color u want for the background. example: 

it saves the integrity of the shape. if you color fill right over the white, look closely and you’ll see it looks sort of pixelated and not as clean or smooth. it’s subtle but noticeable enough to me where it bothers me. 

since this color i chose is kinda vibrant and clashes, i’m gonna help it out some. go back to the quick select tool and select everything inside your border layer. make a new layer, fill the layer with black (any color will do, it doesn’t matter) and set the fill to 0%. double click that new layer, and a new screen will pop up. go to drop shadow, find the settings you like, and boom. here’s what i did and what it’ll look like: 

now u are finished~ i didn’t do this but u can skip sharpening the header earlier in the tutorial and reflatten the image again to sharpen it at this point instead but, yknow, i didn’t do that lol

here’s the final product (save by going to file > export > save for web)

preview of how it looks on mobile:

background: 8bd4ed

the end~ please send me an ask or dm if you haven any further questions, i will try my hardest to help <3