#so i guess i can say that i went hunting for trash and found treasure instead o o o p—

[deus-ex-mona]

stuff’s wildin’, my dudes

[bleedinghearthalstead]

SWAT!Jay / Upstead AU

A/N: Part 11. Post Bruised Ego. Crossposted on AO3, link on my blog.

They've come to realize that they're missing a lot of kitchen essentials and unless Jay is willing to dive into the tinned cans tucked into the back of one the cabinets, they are definitely in need of a grocery run.

It's been a while since they've been grocery shopping together. Since they're both barely home, their fridge rather resembles one of a bachelor than of a married couple, mostly empty except for condiments and random take-out containers and that old bottle of milk that probably went bad last week. But now that Jay is home with a broken hand, they've come to realize that they're missing a lot of kitchen essentials and unless Jay is willing to dive into the tinned cans tucked into the back of one the cabinets, they are definitely in need of a grocery run.

When Jay suggests that they go to Costco, Hailey raises an eyebrow at him. Jay is usually the get in, get what you need and get out type of shopper, so it really is a testament to how bored he is at home and it's only been a week. She doesn’t want to know what else he’s going to come up with in the next five. Hailey quickly makes a list of what they need – wow, they're apparently out of salt – and they're off to what she knows is going to be a much longer shopping trip than she had planned for.

They've barely stepped foot in the warehouse and Jay has already wandered off towards the electronics on sale, leaving Hailey with their cart. She thinks about calling after her husband, but she just rolls her eyes at him and keeps walking towards the food section in the back. He better not be looking at that 70 inch TV that he was talking about with Will the other night. Hailey methodically goes down every aisle – if they're here already, she might as well make the most of it and find some of those hidden sale items. She remembers going shopping with her mother, one of the few things she and her mother did together – just the two of them since her brothers hated it – and they’d make a fun game out of it, doing a treasure hunt for those elusive limited offers. She’d run ahead of her mother, ducking and jumping, running back and forth the aisles, trying to glimpse the highlighted price signs. Both of them would rejoice every time Hailey found a treasure. She marvels at how fondly she looks back at such a mundane thing as buying groceries.

Half an hour later Hailey finds Jay in the cereal aisle, one-handedly pushing his own cart, already filled with all kinds of things. "Jay!" She walks over to him, her eyes widening at what is in his cart. "What in the world…"

"Oh hey, babe." Jay gives her a blinding smile and throws two large boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch into his cart.

She rummages through the items he’s gotten so far and they definitely do not need 1,875 q-tips or 200 trash bags or that tub of 115 dishwasher detergent pacs. And is that a 2 pound tin of peanuts? She spots something blue and silver at the bottom of the cart and she scrunches up her nose in disgust. "Oh God, is that a 24-pack of Red Bull?!"

"Leave it," he laughs and slaps his wife’s hands away.

She sees that he’s also already been to the meat section and got two whole chickens, four racks of ribs and what looks like ten pounds of ground beef. "Who’s gonna eat all of that?"

Jay shrugs and scratches the back of his head. "I thought I’d invite the guys over for a barbeque." And now she knows how bored Jay really is, if he’s willing to cater for eight guys who eat like they’re bottomless pits, with a broken hand no less. Hailey sighs, knowing that this is going to happen whether she wants it or not.

"Alright," she huffs and looks through the rest of his cart – there's burger buns, but there's nary a vegetable in sight, and no, she’s not gonna count the massive glass of pickles. "How about some sides and some other drinks?"

Jay’s brilliant smile is back and he leans down to peck her on the lips. "You’re the best."

In the hopes of speeding things up, Hailey types out a list on her phone and Jay’s phone pings a few seconds later. "You get those things and I’ll get the rest. Meet at checkout in twenty?"

He looks at the items she sent him and nods, checking his watch. "Copy that."

"Oh," Hailey stops him with a grin, "and can you get me some tampons when you get the toilet paper?"

"Orange or green?" Jay sticks out his tongue at her. He knows she tries to catch him off-guard sometimes, but honestly, it's not the first time he got her tampons and it's not like he minds.

She winks at him. "Yellow."

"Yes, ma'am." He'll get her some tampons, she'll see.

On her round to get the last few things on her own list (a.k.a. the things that they were actually planning to buy before they got here), she catches Jay stuffing his face with food samples four times, and every time he waves and yells at her to try this or that with his mouth full. And every time she pushes her cart quickly down the next aisle, shaking her head at his antics.

After she gets everything they needed, she gives him the full twenty minutes and another ten afterwards just browsing through the store before she goes to checkout, but her husband is nowhere to be seen. Hailey tries calling him, but it just keeps ringing until it goes to voicemail. Sighing, she guesses that Jay got lost somewhere in the cheese section, looking for the feta cheese that she put on his list. Waiting for another five minutes, Hailey decides to pay and get a sundae from the food court while she waits for him.

"Babe, over here!" She hears his voice as soon as she’s past the cash registers, surprised that he beat her to the food court. He’s holding a half-eaten hot dog in his right hand and balancing another one on his cast, a soda cup tucked into the crook of his elbow. Jay looks like a food spill waiting to happen, so Hailey hurries towards him, saving the hot dog that is precariously perched on his arm.

The toppings are piled high and there’s extra sauerkraut, just the way she likes it. She smiles up at Jay and thumbs away a drop of ketchup from the corner of his mouth before she stands up on her tiptoes and gives him a quick kiss. "Thanks, babe."

He raises an eyebrow at her when she takes her first bite. "Who said that one’s for you?"

His wife giggles and retorts with a raised eyebrow of her own. "Let’s see you try and take this away from me."

"Oh no," Jay laughs, "I'm only gonna make that mistake once." He finishes the rest of his hot dog in one bite – his cheeks comically bulging as he chews – and washes it down with a couple of big gulps of soda. He takes Hailey’s cart and leads her to where he left his while she eats her hot dog.

"Hey, Raymond," he walks up to an employee, "all good?"

"Yeah, man, your carts are over there." The guy points at two carts (he did say carts, as in plural, Hailey thinks) that are pushed against the wall next to him.

"Thanks, buddy." Jay fistbumps the guy and pushes Hailey’s cart over to the others.

Hailey almost chokes on the bite of hot dog in her mouth. The last time she saw him half an hour ago, he had one cart that was already ridiculously full and he walked out with two? She doesn’t even know how Jay did it. It’s hard enough to push two carts by yourself, but he can’t even hold on to the other one properly with his cast? And how did he even get the stuff in the cart? She forces herself to swallow down the bite and blurts out, "What the fuck?"

A woman with two little kids walking by glares at Hailey and Jay snorts loudly. She doesn’t even notice, still staring at Jay’s two overflowing carts. One of them is definitely the one that she saw him with, only now thirty rolls of toilet paper and about 300 tampons stacked on top. The second one is loaded with three 24-pack trays of beer, three big bottles of bourbon, a six pack of Coke bottles and a gallon of orange juice. And it’s all piled on top of a…

"Is that a mini fridge?!" Hailey's voice goes up an octave. She turns to Jay who looks at her like the cat that ate the canary, big grin and all. Jay bought a mini fridge. Hailey pinches the bridge of her nose, but can't help the laugh that escapes her. She knew one of them was going to buy something they didn't need, but this definitely beats the yoga pants and sports bra that she treated herself to.

"It's actually a stainless steel cooler on wheels," Jay explains proudly. "It's got its own bottle opener and cap catcher."

Laughing out loud, she hands her half-eaten hot dog to Jay who gladly takes it and continues to wolf it down. She pats his good arm. "Honey, you get all of that stuff in the car, I don't care how."

"And what are you gonna do?"

"I’m getting a sundae," she announces and walks off. Behind her she hears Jay roping that poor guy Raymond into helping him with the carts. Then she hears him call after her. "Babe! Get me a strawberry sundae too!" She shakes her head with a smile and gets in line.

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit

Summary: As a rule, Vader did not really do anything with his social media account, but then the rant of some kid from Tatooine about the inefficiency of TIE Fighters began trending, the pilots and engineers on the Devastator started fixing their ships and Vader got invested.

AN: This fanfic is almost 7.000 words long do yourself a favor and go read it on AO3.

X

“Why are all the engineers tearing through the ships?” Vader asked the officer in charge.

Truthfully, they hadn’t been sent on a campaign lately, but the Emperor liked to whimsically assign Vader and his ship to pointless random battles, so they always had to be prepared to head into combat and couldn’t afford all their Fighters to be in repair. Frankly speaking, most of the TIEs never saw any repairs. They were just scrapped and demolished. He supposed he should be glad his mechanics had enough sense not to start working on all ships simultaneously.

“They are fixing the life support and shielding of the TIEs, my Lord.”

The what.

“The TIE-Fighters don’t have deflector shielding,” Vader stated.

The Head Engineer nodded nervously and stood up straight. Vader hadn’t picked them for nothing. Their predecessor had been a weak sucker-up who had seen it fit to either doesn’t inform Vader about crucial decisions and changes or had bothered him about every little detail. This new one knew how to do their job or at least it had seemed like it up until now.

“We are aware, my Lord. But there was this video explaining how to easily make some changes to the TIEs and I saw it fit to ensure we reduce our damages,” they replied.

“What video?”

The Head Engineer fetched a datapad from the nearest table and searched through a couple files until they opened one, revealing a video. It appeared to have been posted on the holonet one and a half weeks ago and already had an impress number of views and comments. The entire video was several hours long, and had gained a few Reaction Videos as well.

The thumbnail showed a blonde boy, roughly fifteen if Vader were to guess, wearing a half undone overall and a tank top, standing next to a slightly older boy and an assassination droid, a severely damaged TIE-Fighter lying in the sands behind them.

Vader hit play.

The video started, showing the blond boy of before sitting in a makeshift workshop, a pair of goggles lying around his neck.

“Welcome to another episode of Scrap Hunting,” the teenager in the video said. He took a sip of water from the metallic canteen he was holding, drinking slow and carefully the way only a desert dweller did. “A couple weeks ago some sleemo commented that I’d never be able to improve any Imperial ships since I’m just Outer Rim trash.”

The boy took another sip, then set his canteen aside to reach for some parts that looked like they belonged to a half-finished droid.

“And I suppose you did have a point that the things I fix won’t ever reach the level of an Imperial TIE because I wouldn’t build such trash in the first place.”

The teenager’s face was fairly blank, but laughter could be heard coming from whoever was behind the camera, likely the other boy.

“So, to prove that I can do better, I sold a lot of speeders, ships and droids, repaired more terrible freighters than I can count, won several totally legal races and placed a couple of very fortunate bets in the palace of Jabba.”

The boy paused, then he smiled widely and, together with his cameraman, yelled “Boonta Eve Classic Champions!”

When he was done laughing, the boy continued talking. “Anyway, the point is, I made a lot of money to buy a lot of trash.”

The screen turned black and when it returned, it showed the image depicted in the thumbnail. The blond boy climbed on top of the TIE and smiled victoriously.

“So in today’s episode, I’m not only going to prove all you disbelievers wrong, I’m also going to drag the entire Tie-Fighter Program through the sarlacc pit. I’m Luke, the man recording is Biggs, my helper over there is HK-77 and this is Scrap Hunting.”

The first few notes of a song start playing and the channel’s logo, two suns overlaid by a speeder, showed up. The Head Engineer proceeded to stop the video, the screen frozen on the image of the boy grinning mischievously.

“He proceeds to begin to completely overhaul the damaged TIE he bought with alarmingly low cost and high efficiency within a few hours and, frankly speaking, embarrasses me. Some of the things Luke does never occurred to me and it should have, I went to one of Coruscant’s best universities-“

They sighed and put the datapad down. “Either way, we are now making changes to our TIEs. I apologize for not having informed you before, my Lord, but I assumed you’d approve of our Fighters being the most advanced on the field.”

The Head Engineer didn’t look like they regretted their decision, but they had obviously resigned themselves to whatever Vader decided their fate would be. They were loyal to Vader and his command. Vader needed people like them on his crew, not more of the Emperor’s spies.

“You presumed correctly,” Vader said. “Finish outfitting the TIEs you already began taking apart. I will watch the video of this Luke and see what exactly he has to say about the military.”

The Head Engineer saluted. “Yes, Sir! I won’t disappoint you!” Then they turned around and marched over to where the others had stopped working to watch their exchange and told them to get back to work.

Vader, meanwhile, took the datapad and returned to his own rooms. He had a video to watch.

X

Luke had not planned on becoming famous with a video titled Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit. In fact, he had never expected any of his videos to gain the kind of following and attention they had even before that particular one. In all honesty, it had just started with him making a recording of how he fixed vaporators without taking them apart completely so his friend Biggs could do it as well. He’d just posted that on the net and kept going. First about droids, some more rambles about ships and a while back he’d finally been allowed to go to the shipyards on his own to earn some extra cash.

But then he had found HK-77 in a dumping ground. The droid had been severely damaged, but not so much that Luke couldn’t fix it. Assassin droids were intelligent, much more than any other ones and Luke could honestly use some extra hands around the farm and when he was repairing speeders. Biggs had recorded bits of Luke working on the droid, cut it together and uploaded it and people had loved it. His videos got more clicks, he got more subscriptions and here he was now.

Usually, Luke didn’t let comments get to him, but one obviously core-world spoiled bastard had discredited Luke’s skills without having any idea how terrible the Empire’s priced Fighters actually were.

“C’mon,” Biggs said, throwing an arm around Luke’s shoulders. “One last project before I leave for the Academy.”

Luke had also been trying his best to avoid thinking about how much he was going to miss his best friend. He wanted to leave with him – though not to be a common TIE-Fighter pilot, Luke wasn’t suicidal – but he couldn’t leave his family behind when they needed him.

“Alright,” Luke agreed, blushing. “Where are we going to get a TIE, though?”

Turned out that a TIE had crashed a while back and a junk dealer had picked it up. Unfortunately, despite its terrible damages, it was really expensive and Luke didn’t have that kind of money. It took a lot of work to scrap it all together – and he had been grounded for a month after winning the Boonta Eve Classic, but being the second human to ever win after Anakin Skywalker, his own father, had been worth it – but in the end Biggs and Luke had poured their funds together and bought the TIE.

And then the fun had started.

X

Vader sat down at his desk and pulled up the video again. He skipped to the moment the Head Engineer had stopped the video and hit play.

“Okay, first things first,” Luke said. “TIE’s were not made to be repaired. How do I know?”

Luke crawled into the pilot’s seat and opened the panels beneath it. “Because this is where the Empire would store the hyperdrive navigational systems, theft prevention protocols and life support, if the TIEs had any!”

He disappeared beneath the panels and began taking out the machinery, handing it to the HK-77 droid. Tatooine’s junkyards had always been a treasure chest, but finding C-3PO there had been astonishing. An assassination droid was worth much more than a mere protocol droid. Vader would have to check if the boy talked about how he’d acquired it somewhere.

“What kind of moron designs a ship that doesn’t have that?” Luke spoke up, his voice echoing. “I know who. They’re called Sienar Fleet Systems and go back to the Clone Wars.”

Luke stood up, and placatingly held up his hands. “I know, the Empire also made some pretty cool ships. I won’t lie, I’d kill to get my hands on the schematics on the Devastator, but the security of Kuat Drive Yards is too good.”

Luke paused.

“Not that I’d ever attempt to get a better look on them.”

The video zoomed in on Luke’s face and his frankly speaking terrible poker face in what was supposed be a comedic shot. Not many people would have the guts to admit they’d attempted to slice into KDY’s security and Vader doubted it was idiocy on the boy’s part. The youth was interesting and it became apparent rather quickly that he knew what he was talking about. He would certainly make a good asset to Vader’s crew, should he sign up.

“Point is,” Luke continued. “They cut all these extra measures out to lose weight and mass produce these TIEs with the lowest costs possible. However, even out here on Tatooine we’ve got ships with really small and efficient support systems, so I’ll dig through this mess down here and make some space for life support first.”

Luke then pointed on the rather large box standing next to him. “All I need for that is in this box. I uploaded the schematics to my usual server. It’s free to download, but I’d be very thankful if you could leave me a tip because I am broke until I’ve gotten this project done.”

Vader only skimmed through the next hours as Luke was working on taking the TIE’s insides apart. He explained what he was doing more or less coherently. It was clear he was lacking some of the terminological knowledge needed to describe the precise measures he took, but he was a rather efficient worker.

“Not sure yet if I can get my hands on a hyperdrive that won’t blow up on me, but we’ll see,” Luke said during the last minute of the video. “Theft prevention, however, I can work with.”

The video cut again and by now only the last beams of sunlight were illuminating the sands.

“Check this,” Luke said and pulled back his arm, a hydrospanner in hand, and threw it at full strength at the outer shell of the TIE. Upon impact, the TIE began blaring alarms.

“Nailed it,” Luke declared confidently while the HK-77 next to him gave him a thumbs up and presumably his friend behind the camera, held his thumb up in front of the recording as well.

“And this concludes part one of-“ Luke began to speak, only to be interrupted by a man’s shout.

“LUKE SKY-“

“Oh, shit,” Luke muttered, eyes wide. “Stop recording, Biggs, stop-“

The video ended and a couple of suggestions popped up, all with equally unserious titles such as ‘Killing it with a Murderbot’, ‘Repairing a hyperdrive but your arm is broken and All Stars is playing’ and ‘Garbage Summary of Republic/Imperial Ships’. The most recent upload was titled ‘Status Update: Scrap Hunters vs. Guardians.’

Vader decided to play it.

X

The channel’s introduction started to play against and soon after there was a recording of the black-haired boy playing.

“Hello, fellow Hunters,” the young man said, smiling widely. “I’m Biggs and unfortunately, I have to do today’s video by myself.”

He closed his eyes and in fake serenity added, “I hope you’ll enjoy it despite the lack of our overly bright mechanic and resident murderbot. Don’t worry, I know you’re all not actually watching this for me.”

Biggs sat still as writing appeared in the upper corner. I’m also just here for Luke. Hit me up at @darkestlight if you feel like it.

“Anyway,” Biggs continued and the writing disappeared. “This short video is just an update on our current situation. First of all, we’re super happy to see that so many people enjoyed our newest video. The next parts will be uploaded as soon as we can get our hands on the items we need, which might take a while given that Luke has been grounded from working on the TIE for the foreseeable future. If you have any questions for him though, feel free to drop him a message @skyseekerpilot, he’s still got access to the holonet.”

From out of the camera’s reach, he pulled a piece of flimsi, showing off the account’s name and a small doodle of what Vader assumed was meant to be Luke.

“Written by yours truly,” Biggs said and set the flimsi aside. “We’re thinking of doing a Q&A in the near future to bridge the time between the actual next update. Feel free to send us any kind of question! That being said, don’t miss us too much!”

The video stopped and Vader almost found himself being disappointed. The youth had certainly talked a lot about unimportant things, it was clear that he was a mere aid to Luke. Perhaps contacting the boy about his ideas would be worth it.

X

Luke was bored out of his mind. Honestly, he hated being grounded. Nothing new to tinker with, only work and endless hours of chores and browsing the holonet. He supposed he could work a little more on his schematics, but he didn’t really feel like it. Sitting down and actually sketching what he was thinking was always the most difficult part of the process. Most of the time, Luke just knew and could figure out what he had to fix. He worked by instinct alone, but that didn’t really help others so he had to write things down properly.

Annoyed, Luke flopped down on his bed again. He hoped that Biggs at least would be allowed to come over again soon. It was just so boring without anyone around.

“I could get rid of the problem,” HK-77 offered from where it was sitting in the corner.

“No, thank you, Hagekay,” Luke replied. “I guess I’ll just check the ‘net again.”

He took out his datapad and began skimming his usual sites. He watched the video Biggs had uploaded and looked a little though all the comments they’d already gotten. Their channel had really blown up in the past days and a lot of people seemed quite eager about the possibility of a Q&A, already shooting off questions. Luke switched over to his page and saw a steady amount of questions and comments come in. A lot of them were rather personal, but one caught his attention.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick asked:

You pay a great deal of attention to enhancing the pilot’s safety and protection in the events of a crash, but how do you intend to make up for the lesser maneuverability? The added weight will lower the TIE’s speed to 1,112 KPH and in actual combat, the added speed is necessary. If one considers the lack of deflector shields, the TIE becomes much more vulnerable, to a degree that even your additions will not work. I’d like to hear your suggestions as to how you would solve that problem.

Reading the message, Luke began to smile widely. Fighterfan had obviously sat down to do the proper math. Luke, admittedly, had only done some rough calculations but his result had been almost the same and he’d immediately began searching or results.

Easy, he wrote back, grinning like a madman. I add deflector shields and modify a hyperdrive of the Interio Class. ;)

Luke knew that his holonet connection wasn’t exactly the best. There was a reason Biggs was the one who uploaded their content. Sometimes, especially before, during and after sandstorms, Luke could forget doing anything with his datapad. So when he got a reply barely thirty minutes later, he knew that the other person must have replied immediately.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick replied:

The Interio Class hyperdrives are slow at best and do not work at all at worst. I take it you intend to break it down so far that it cannot actually do a hyperspace jump but still accelerates much faster than any other engine?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot replied:

Exactly!!! :D Should push the speed back up to 1,200 KPH despite the added weight! I’d also suggest changing the wings to bent-wing solar arrays, but I don’t have the materials for that right now :/

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick replied:

While the flight controls were designed to be intuitive and easy to learn, very few people would be skilled enough to fly a ship with the modifications you are proposing.

Luke smirked. It would be dangerous indeed, but he’d be able to make it. He’d stretch out his senses, feel the vast expanses of space around him, the million planets and stars and he’d rush right past them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot replied:

I could. :)

X

Vader hadn’t been sure what to expect of his conversation with Luke. The boy certainly proved that he was bright and clever. Not just intelligent, he knew exactly what his modifications would do to the TIE- Fighter. Despite his excessive need to tag emojis onto his every message and add exclamation marks, actually talking about ships to somebody who couldn’t care less about Imperial regulations was almost enjoyable. The boy’s suggestions were refreshing and unorthodox and a few of them even puzzled Vader for a moment until he was able to follow Luke’s train of thought.

Soon he found himself looking forward to the boy’s messages, even if he couldn’t bring himself to care particularly much about the daily life of a teenage moisture farmer. Unfortunately, he had to admit that he was almost a little annoyed Luke was still a child and therefore couldn’t accept a job offer. Well, Vader would simply have to wait a little longer to get his hands on his next Head Engineer. Until then, messaging him while pretending to listen to some Moffs blab away about the Death Star yet again, would have to suffice.

He had learned nothing but patience in the past years.

X

“Welcome back to Scrap Hunting!” Luke announced excitedly. “As you can see, I have returned to the land of the living!”

“He’s still grounded,” Biggs said next to him. “I’m just allowed to visit now.”

Luke rolled his eyes and lightheartedly punched his friend into his side. “Don’t make fun of me. I was incredibly lonely.”

Biggs smiled and messed up Luke’s hair in return. “Sure, whatever you say. Anyway! We collected a lot of comments in the meanwhile and decided to do the promised Q&A about ourselves. Luke, if you’d do the honors to read the first question.”

“Sure!”

Luke reached for the datapad in front of them and started it up. He spent a few moments scrolling through it, then stopped and began to read out loud. “For Biggs: In the video repairing Hagekay you said that it keeps threatening you. Does it still do that?”

“All the time,” Biggs replied seriously. He raised his hands in a what-can-you-do kind of way and then dropped them again with a sigh. “Literally. I don’t think this droid likes anyone but Luke and the mouse droid keeping the house clean.”

Biggs frowned and looked around as if he were searching for something. “Where is Emmy? It always seems so eager to clean up after me.”

Luke shrugged. “Maybe got lost in Aunt Beru’s closet again, wouldn’t be the first time. Alright, you do the next question.”

Biggs took the datapad from him and moved on to the next inquiry.

“What the kriff is your title song?” Biggs read, then groaned and buried his head in his hands. “Just let it die please.”

Luke on the other hand immediately jumped up in excitement. “Oh! It’s every fifth note of my favorite song so it doesn’t get taken down for copyright reason. I’ll put a link in the description.”

“Question #3: Where do you live?” Luke stared straight ahead into the camera. “Tatooine, Outer Rim desert world. Do not recommend unless you can survive without a lot of water.”

Beside him, Biggs nodded. “Indeed, not the best place to raise your children. Question number four: Could you upload Hagekay’s original programming?”

The two boys looked at each other and finally shook their heads while staring suspiciously at the camera again. “What could you possibly need the programming of an assassin droid for?”

“Next up: How old are you? And how long have you been working on projects like this?”

Luke frowned and turned to Biggs. “Didn’t we say that before once?”

Biggs only shrugged. “No idea, you talk a lot when you’re working.”

“You love to hear me talk,” Luke replied teasingly. “Well, I’m seventeen and Biggs is nineteen. I’ve been doing repairs on droids for as long as I can think. Speeders and ships are new additions.”

“Same for me,” Biggs said. “You can’t grow up in the middle of nowhere running a moisture farm and not be at least a half-decent mechanic. Okay, next question: What was your favorite project so far? Hmm, I think I enjoyed ‘Hagekay vs Emmy with a viroblade’ the most. You?”

Luke chewed on his lip and paused, deeply lost in thought.

“The TIE-Fighter,” he said eventually. “Even if I wasn’t so sure about it at first. That reminds me! I don’t know how many of you have seen the bits of the conversation that aren’t private, but you should seriously check out Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick. The ship modifications he speaks of are the best and a couple of them will definitely end up in the TIE, credit given, of course. When we’re done with this video, I’ll go right back to replying to your thoughts about navigation systems because I totally agree-“

“Alright, alright,” Biggs interrupted, clasping his hand over Luke’s mouth. “Nerd out with your new best friend somewhere I don’t have to see it.”

Luke huffed and, going by the way Biggs quickly pulled his hand away from his mouth and wiped it on his shirt saying “ewww”, had licked it.

“What are you? Five?” Biggs complained.

Luke laughed. “Compared to your mature six? Alright, next question-“

X

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Have you thought about a way to solve the take-off issue yet?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Noooooo (TT^TT). It’s so stupid, why does anyone design a ship that lacks landing gear? I mean, I get it, these were built for space combat but it just seemed unnecessary that you need an extra start up. What do you do when somebody crashed on a planet? Leave them there????

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Yes. TIEs are viewed as expendable, due to their cheap production costs, as are their pilots. The Empire prefers quantity over quality.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

That just seems incredibly short-sighted. What kind of person doesn’t go back to save their friends?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You are wrongly presuming that TIE-Fighter pilots have friends.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

So you don’t have any friends?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Oh gosh I’m SO SORRY! I didn’t mean that, I just wanted to ask whether you were TIE pilot bc you seem to know the ships so well and I didn’t want to be rude

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I’m sorry!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Super sorry!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Honestly, I didn’t mean to insult you. I apologize, I shouldn’t have said that.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Are you still there?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Yes. I was stuck in a briefing and couldn’t reply. You mustn’t worry. I do not have any friends, nor do I want them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Oh, I’m glad I didn’t scare you off and I’m sorry for overreacting. But you really don’t have any friends? Doesn’t that get lonely? Biggs has been gone barely a couple weeks and I’m already going crazy. I miss him a lot.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You are too dependent on him, Luke. You do not need him.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I do! He always had my back, ever since we were small. And even if you don’t want any friends, you can be sure that I will consider you mine. No expectations of course! But I really enjoy talking to you and I have learned so much since we started talking!

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I have also found our talks to be pleasant.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Yay!!!!

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

TIE Advanced x1

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

What?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You wanted to ask me whether I am a TIE-Fighter pilot. I own a TIE Advanced x1

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

WHAT

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

REALLY???? THAT’S SO COOL THEY ONLY STARTED MANUFACTURING THEM LAST YEAR. How fast does it accelerate? Are the stabilizers really that improved? No wait tell me about the hyperdrive which did they go with? Does it use a Class 4.0? I would have built in a Class 7.0 but they’re more expensive and hard to really stop correctly if you’re not like a great pilot ooOOOH WAIT

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU are flying a TIE/AD!!!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU NEVER TOLD ME YOU’RE ACTUALLY IN THE IMPERIAL NAVY. Which ship do you serve on??? Please, please, please tell me about the Destroyers I’ve been wanting to compare them to Republic ships since FOREVER but I couldn’t find any good sources pls I’ll pay in an extra special videos

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Give me a few hours.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

YOU ARE THE BEST!

X

Vader could not fathom what was wrong with Luke. Nobody wanted to be friends with Darth Vader, certainly he had never given the boy the impression that he was interested in such a relationship? He had merely strived to see what the boy was capable of. He shouldn’t supply the boy with more in-depth plans to his ships and yet he found himself downloading the corresponding schematics. It had been a while since he had been able to carry on a conversation that was actually on his level and engaging as well. Luke was only improving and Vader wanted to keep him. Good personnel was hard to come by and Luke was something different entirely.

X

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I have sent you the plans we talked about. Have you ever considered signing up for the Imperial Academy?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Yes, but I can’t go this year because my uncle still needs me on the farm :/

 Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

I am able to get you a contract as civilian consultant. You’d be able to work from home.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

What? Is that really a thing?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

If you give me your personal data, I’ll send you a contract.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Thank you!! It’s Luke Lars! My ID is T-LL-2187-A23. Also, uploaded a new video for you :D Hope you enjoy my misadventures!

X

Luke was sitting on his bed, HK-77 standing beside him, holding out various tools while the mouse droid Emmy was sitting in his lap.

“Hello, everybody and welcome to another episode of Scrap Hunting! Today is a special compilation dedicated too @thatsaneattrick, who basically gave me an early birthday present. So, sit back and enjoy a compilation of the things we usually cut from our videos! I’m Luke, my helper today is HK-77 and shout out to Biggs who is currently studying a couple of planets away from me!”

The video cut away to start showing the first in a series of rather short escapades featuring at least one member of the trio.

-

The first video showed Luke working on the TIE’s wings, singing underneath his breath. “This was not designed to land, this ship was not designed to land, this ship was not designed to be functional, functional at all.”

-

The next video depicted Luke working in the background while Biggs and HK-77 were staring intensely at each other, Emmy stuck between them, driving forwards and backwards like they were trying to keep the two from fighting.

“Where did you hide my hydrospanner.”

“I did no such thing, Biggs.”

The recording blurred as Biggs threw himself on HK-77.

-

It was dark. The camera slowly focused on Emmy attempting to drive up to the TIE fighter but getting stuck because of the sand. Two giggles could be heard.

“We have to help Emmy,” Luke whispered.

“Yes, wait- oh, Em’s gonna fall over-“

The video slowed down as Emmy tragically fell to its side and couldn’t get up again.

“It’s so kriffing clumsy, like a baby,” Biggs laughed.

“It’ll get there someday.”

In white writing, the message Hasn’t Happened Yet showed up.

-

“Luke, what are you?”

Luke sighed and looked downcast. “A good mechanic?”

“Then why is the TIE’s cockpit smoking?”

“I was just taking a look at the repulsorlift antigravity field- oh, kriff it’s burning.”

“What!?”

X

Ever since Biggs had left, Luke’s conversations with Fighter became the most fun part of his days. Sometimes, replies took a little longer depending on how busy and far away Fighter was, but their talks never failed to bring a smile to Luke’s face, no matter how standoffish Fighter acted.

Luke checked his messages again, hoping to catch a new message from Fighter. Sadly, none were in his inbox, only something from a stranger.

Lord Vader @ImperialCommand: Consultant Contract

Luke frowned.

X

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Have you thought about my job offer yet?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Job offer? You were really serious about that? O.o

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Of course, did you not see the attachment I sent you?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I never got a message with a job offer, so I thought you were joking!!! The only thing I got was a message by some guy pretending to be Vader. Didn’t even bother to open that, who knows what kind of virus I could have caught. -.-‘

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

Someone pretended to be Lord Vader? Surely nobody would actually be so ignorant.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Idk! I had to go on his holo page and it seemed legit but there’s no way the emperor’s slaver would ever message me I’m not that naive

…

Fighter?

Are you still there?

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

You would do well not to spread such rebel propaganda anywhere others could find them.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Rebel propaganda???

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Do you mean the ‘slaver’ thing?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

That’s not propaganda, that’s what Vader is. I know your serve in the Navy, and probably met him once or so. I can’t judge what kind of superior he might be, but his behavior is that of a slaver.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What do you know of slavery, child?

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I live on Tatooine, remember? Hutts control everything. And my father was a slave, that’s why I have to go by my uncle’s last name, least of all somebody thinks I’m a runaway just cause my father’s name was ‘Skywalker’.

Fighterfan @thatsaneatrick

What was your father’s name.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

His name was Anakin Skywalker, he died towards the end of the last war. Freed himself as a child and became a navigator on a spice freighter. I don’t know much more about him, my aunt and uncle only met him once for my grandmother’s funeral and that’s it. I’m sure he was a good man, though. I just know it.

X

The boy, Luke, was living Tatooine with his aunt and uncle. Vader had known his last name was Lars, had even seen him mention Owen and Beru multiple times, but he hadn’t made the connection-

Quickly, he pulled up the files he had made on the boy. It said in his documents that he had been adopted by Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun Lars, no mentioning of his biological parents anyway. Vader hadn’t paid any attention to it because it happened often enough on Tatooine. Newborns were smuggled bought out of the slave quarters so they’d get a better life. The boy could be lying, of course, but what would he seek to gain from this ploy?

Anakin Skywalker was dead and everything he had held dear had burned with him, his Master had seen to it.

But hadn’t the boy’s smile reminded him of his dear wife? His excitement for ships, his brilliance- Vader had assumed that some of his stories might have been exaggerated, but maybe he had performed all those death-defying stunts indeed and it was the Force which had saved him.

Luke Skywalker of Tatooine.

It was impossible to think that he had managed to find him through mere interest. The Force must have led him to his son.

His son.

His Master had lied to him, deceived and betrayed him.

Snarling, Vader left his rooms behind and marched towards his personal hanger. He had to go now, reach his son and protect him before the Emperor would diminish his light.  Vader would make them pay, all of them, every single person involved in keeping his child from him would be destroyed.

X

The past weeks had not been particularly interesting or happy for Luke. Ever since his discussion with Fighter, the other man had completely cut their communication. No matter how many messages Luke sent him, he didn’t reply.

He supposed he should have seen it coming. Fighter didn’t say much about his background, but if he was skilled enough to be trusted with a TIE/ad, he had likely grown up on some Imperial Core World, surrounded by the Empire and Vader’s image and didn’t see things the way some Outer Rim kid would. It was too bad that their conversation had stopped. Even if they couldn’t agree on the Empire’s policies, ships were still ships.

He’d miss talking to Fighter.

Luke dragged himself out of his room to go in the kitchen for lunch. He had halfway crossed the homestead when a man in a dark robe hurried down the steps.

“Luke!” He said and threw back his hood, revealing himself as Old Ben Kenobi.

“Oh, hi, Ben! Is everything alright?”

Ben shook his head and a pained expression crossed his face. He looked like he was in a hurry, but Luke could feel the fear lingering in the air.

“We need to go, now,” Ben said hurriedly. “Where are your aunt and uncle?”

“Aunt Beru went into the city and Uncle Owen is out working on the vaporators,” Luke replied slowly.

Ben’s behavior was confusing him. He’d known the older man since he could think. He had never said a thing, but Luke knew he was the one who had made a lot of the model ships now proudly displayed in his room and made sure the Tuskens stayed away from their homestead.

Ben was a nice and kind man, carrying a lot of grief. He was a little strange, but not mad. If he was worried about something, Luke figured he should as well.

“Then there is no time to get them,” Ben said and took Luke’s hand. “We must hurry.”

“Ben, what’s going on?” Luke asked and let himself be pulled along to the homestead’s entrance and out into the sun. “Why are we running?”

“We need to go before he’s here-“ Ben stopped abruptly and stared right ahead.

A black demon stood in some distance from the two of them. He looked like the monsters out of the stories Luke had been told as a child and now knew to be real. Lord Vader.

Ben let go of Luke’s hand and took a step forward, keeping Luke behind him.

“Kenobi.” Vader’s voice was deep, mechanic and artificial. “I have finally found you.”

“So you have, Darth,” Kenobi replied and ignited a lightsaber of a light blue color.

Vader followed suit, his blade an angry red and soon after they were clashing against one another, whirling up the sand. Luke hadn’t known Ben could fight like that, keep every move so fluent despite the ground he was standing on. He met each of Vader’s aggressive strikes with equal strength.

Luke felt like he was suffocating.

He had to stop them, he knew it. He didn’t know why or how, but if he didn’t do anything, the desert would swallow them up.

“What is going on!?” Luke shouted. The two fighters turned to him and it occurred to Luke only then that shouting mid-battle was probably not his smartest move, but what else was he supposed to do.

“You have been deceived all your life, young one,” Vader said. “Kenobi stole you from me, kept you hidden so you wouldn’t inherit your birthright.”

“My birthright,” Luke repeated. “I’m sorry, what are you even talking about.”

“Your father-“

“Was a good man,” Ben interrupted, his words as sharp as a knife. “And you ruined him.”

“You left me to burn!” Vader screamed. “You said you loved me and you left me behind for Sidious to take and remake as he wanted. You took my son from me and let him grow up on the Force-forsaken planet! You stole years from me, months of being unaware of who I was talking to.”

My son, the winds seemed to echo Vader’s words, dancing around Luke’s small frame. The weight behind them almost seemed to push him over.

“Father?” Luke realized. The wind roared in agreement, rushed through Luke’s mind as a barely comprehendible mess acknowledging an impossible truth.

X

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Going on a galactic roadtrip for the foreseeable future! :D

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

(Somebody please get me off this ship they keep glaring at each other it’s so awkward)

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Pros of having parents: You don’t have to pay for lunch Cons of having parents: Lunch is ration bars

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

If not for the laws of this galaxy I’d have a glowing sword to cut through durasteel with

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I have adopted 4 more mouse droids to keep our ship clean!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I love discovering I have a godfather who is also a pirate while being held hostage by said godfather. 5/10 experience

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

I have the power of the Force and Hydrospanners on my side!!!

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

Turns out HK-77’s programming was not as thoroughly deleted as I thought. My bad.

Twin Suns @skyseekerpilot

TIE-Fighters still suck. New video tomorrow together with @thatsaneatrick

X

“Hi!” The video showed a young blond man standing in what appeared to be a huge hanger. He was a little older than he had been in the last video uploaded on the channel.

Next to him sat an older man whose skin was as pale as ash. Many scars covered his face, the only part of his body that was actually visible. The rest was covered by dark robes. The third member of the group was another man with snow-white hair and beard. He sat in a safe distance from the ship behind the other two, reading through a datapad while drinking a cup of tea. All three of them carried lightsabers and it was practically impossible to ignore them.

“Welcome back to another episode of Scrap Hunting!” The blond continued. “I know, it’s been a year but I was pretty busy.”

He glanced at the man beside him and leaned slightly into his side, as if he were seeking comfort.

“Today we’re finally concluding our series ‘Tuning up your TIE-Fighter to prove you’re better than the bastard currently running the TIE-Fighter Program for fun and profit’. Unfortunately, the original TIE-Fighter was lost, but Father crashes so many that we could easily start from scratch with a new one. The focus of this episode is finally adding the safety that prevents the twin ion engines from moving an energizer out of alignment so that the recharge systems won’t become ticking time bombs. Henceforth, we dedicate this episode to Darth Sidious, alias Emperor Palpatine. My name is Luke Skywalker. The man in the back is my Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi-“ The old man looked up from his datapad to wave at the camera and then continued on reading “-and my helper today is my Father.”

Luke paused and smiled softly while the scarred man put his hand on Luke’s shoulder. The gesture seemed almost a little possessive, would certainly be like it if the man’s touch weren’t as gentle as a feather.

“My name is Anakin Skywalker,” the man said, his blue eyes shining as brightly as Luke’s, but much colder in nature. “And I’m coming for you, Sidious.”

The video flashed black, then brightened again, depicting a round emblem of two wings settled around a sword.

[beautifulmadnesss]

“Make Peace with Your Feelings” JJ Imagine Part 2

Summary: Olivia is the younger sister of John B and has always followed along with the Pogues. JJ was like a second brother to her and often crashed at their place. She really struggles after her fathers disappearance and she starts to self destruct, even JJ is having a hard time getting through to her.

Part 1

A/N Thanks so much for all the love on Part 1! I also forgot to mention the title comes from the song When You Know by Neck Deep. Check it out here

“What the hell, Liv, it’s 9am,” John B yelled after he passed by the door to my dads office and found me sitting on his desk drinking a bottle of rum. 

“You drink all the time.” I retorted, getting really tired of him judging me all the time. 

“Yeah, with my friends and I stop before I get completely shit faced. You have a real problem.” He sat down in the chair, facing me. “I’m really worried about you.” He added softly. I felt my stomach turn in a knot. We really had avoided any form of emotional communication since the night our dad disappeared. “When Dad gets back he’ll feel like crap if he finds out you’ve been doing this to yourself.”

“Dammit John B, stop saying that!” I snapped, standing up and towering over him for once. “He’s not coming back because he’s dead. He fucking abandoned us for some made up treasure hunt.” 

“You don’t know that,” he argued. “Plus he didn’t do it on purpose, he just-”

“Look around! There’s five times as much about this shipwreck than there is about us in this entire house. He kept this stupid office locked and spent most nights in here obsessing over this bullshit.” I grabbed the nearest stack of papers and tossed them aside. 

“So, you’re pissed at him for checking out and caring more about this than his family? Sounds like someone else I know. He’d be ashamed of you and-”

“John B, thats enough, dude.” Pope interrupted. I turned to see him standing in the doorway with Jj and Kiara.

I looked back at my brother who was staring at me with pure hatred. I felt an overwhelming urge to just destroy something, anything. The papers and maps scattered on the desk just as my dad left them caught my eye. I cleared them with one swipe of my arm. 

“Fuck off, Liv,” I heard John B mutter before storming out of the room. 

I didn’t even stop to see where he went. Anything I could find, I wanted to break it. I took the pencils and snapped them in half, ripped all the pages out of the binders, tore the maps off the walls. I took the clock and threw it across the room. The stupid lamp that was always on every night when I laid in my bed and just wanted someone to come read me a book made me so irrationally angry. Repeatedly I slammed it against the desk until it broke in half. I grabbed one of the books off the shelve and tried to rip it, but it was to thick. Only then did I realize that I was crying. My entire body went limp and I let the book fall, collapsing onto the floor in sobs. 

I pulled my knees up to my chests and wrapped my arms around myself, digging my fingernails into my palms. I was trembling and completely overwhelmed with emotions. When I felt someone wrap their arm around my shoulders and lay their head on me, I jumped at first, but then stayed still as my sobs turned into silent tears. 

“I’m going to go get something for your hands. I’ll be right back.” A small part of me was disappointed to hear Jj instead of my brother, but I was really just glad not to be alone. 

He returned with a wadded up handful of paper towels and I smiled at him gratefully as he gently pressed them to my hands. Ever since I was a little kid, whenever I got really stressed I would ball my hands into fists so tightly my fingernails would dig into my palms. 

“You okay?” He asked, watching me carefully. 

“For a screwup? I’m okay, I guess.” 

“You’re not a screwup.” 

“John B is right. I’m a mess. It’s just when I’m drinking it’s easier to forget how scared I am. My dad is gone, my uncle is partying somewhere else, and who knows where my mom is. Eventually someone is going to realize that John B and I are completely alone and we are going to be put in foster care. There aren’t any homes on the island and there sure as hell aren’t any homes that are willing to take two teenagers, so we are going to end up on the mainland in separate homes. I’m about to be completely alone and I’m terrified.” I started crying again, so Jj moved to sit next to me and I laid my head on his shoulder. He was always so easy to talk to. I guess because I felt like he understood what it’s like to feel like you can never do the right thing no matter how much you want to. 

“That definitely sucks and you have every right to be scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I can promise you that you won’t ever be alone.”

I looked up at him, accidentally brushing my nose against his cheek as I did causing me to blush. I opened my mouth to say something to him, but instead just found myself leaning up to meet his lips. Something I had been dreaming of for far longer than I was comfortable admitting. 

“Guys, with guns, here to kill us!” Pope yelled, banging open the door, causing us to both jump backward and my head to bang against the desk. 

“Why the hell are there guys with guns here?” I asked just ask John B and Kiara came in and slammed the door behind them. 

John B pulled out my dads compass and opened it. The word Redfield was scratched onto the the lid of the secret compartment in my dads handwriting. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” John B wasn’t listening to me, he grabbed JJ. 

“Where’s the gun?” He interrogated. 

“It’s on the porch,” Jj answered after a second of thinking. He ran out the door, but immediately came back in when the front door opened and one of the guys yelled my brothers name. 

“What the-” Jj clamped his hand over my mouth to keep me from yelling out as these guys started trashing the house. I was confused and scared and still a little flustered from nearly being caught kissing my brothers best friend. His hand on my lips and arm around my waist holding me against him wasn’t exactly helping anything either. 

Part 3 Part 4

[obxrush]

can u please write a jj x kiara fanfic where jj is getting possessive/jealous abt kiara.

A/N: I ❤️ Jiara. I’m glad you requested this because it’s hard to find Jiara fans amongst all of the people who shipped themselves with the characters 😂 (no hate; just facts). But, I hope you enjoy, anon!

A Tale of Midsummer’s

JJ grimaced, peering down at his outfit. “The things I do for John B,” he muttered, looking back at this friend who gave him a dopey smile. Stomping up the beach, JJ reassured himself by remembering that he had only one simple thing to do: find the Kook princess and skidaddle.

After passing by the security guard with a surprising amount of ease, JJ spotted Sarah Cameron on the dance floor. But, before he could approach her, Pope ran up to give him a fierce hug. JJ felt bad about not explaining himself further, but he hated interrogations about his family life. As discretely as he could, he finally passed the note to the princess and was about to head out before he saw Kiara... and Rafe.

She looked considerably uncomfortable while talking to Rafe, but she had no intention of moving away because her parents were watching her quite intently. JJ furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking ‘what the hell is wrong with this picture?’ He knew nothing about Kiara’s year with the Kooks, but now, he suspected that Rafe had something to do with it. Thinking back, JJ remembered how Kiara always seemed agitiated around Rafe specifically, not so much with Topper.

JJ headed up the small flight of stairs to the porch, and Rafe saw him. Kiara’s back was turned to him, but once Rafe began glaring, she turned around and smiled, but her face instantly changed once Rafe and his friends chased JJ into the country club. Dodging all of the people gathered inside, JJ was stuck at a dead end.

Once he was held in a chokehold with Rafe ready to punch him, JJ finally felt panic coursing through him.

“Hey dude, you really don’t wanna do this,” JJ pleaded, not letting his tone waver, however.

“Oh but I do. You took me out of a great conversation with Kiara. It’s been such a long time since I’ve had a civil conversation with her,” Rafe said with a sinister grin.

JJ frowned but then smirked. “Maybe, she doesn’t want to talk to you. I hear she has high standards when it comes to choosing friends.”

Rafe let out a dark chuckle. “I’m gonna forget that you consider yourself to be at high standards. I don’t want to be her friend. We were hitting if off so well back when she and Sarah were friends.” JJ’s blood was boiling; Kiara never told him about having any sort of relationship with Rafe. But, why do I care, he thought. “What? Nothing to say? Is it that surprising that Kiara wanted to-”

JJ cut him off, “I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.” He was fuming, and adrenaline was pumping through his veins. “Kiara belongs with us now. The Pogues. She knew how fucked up you Kooks are, and she left with good reason.” Before Rafe could respond, JJ broke out of the hold and elbowed the man who held him in the face. He marched up to Rafe and punched him across the face. The other guys tried to hold him back, but he dodged them and went back to attacking Rafe.

That was, until, Kiara showed up. “What the hell are you guys doing? Stop!” she yelled. She held her lilac dress up on one side as she walked up to the guys and pulled JJ away. “C’mon, let’s go,” she whispered.

JJ followed her out of the door, and he could hear her parents screaming to come back. He looked over at his side to see Pope and ushered him to join. When the whole group congregated at Rixon’s did JJ stop to think about what happened. “Hate to interrupt, John B but uh-” he looked over at Kiara. “Kie and I need to talk, alone.” He grabbed Kiara’s wrist gently and led them away from the fire pit.

“JJ, what happened back at the party?” Kiara asked.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” JJ replied quietly. “I don’t know why, but seeing you talkin’ to Rafe rubbed me the wrong way.”

Kiara rolled her eyes. “You think it didn’t bother me? Rafe and I aren’t friends. Never were, actually.”

“That’s... not what I meant.” JJ let out a deep sigh. “Were you and Rafe like, together or something back in your Kook year.”

“JJ...”

“Listen, I know you’re touchy about the whole thing, and I don’t blame you, but the things Rafe was saying back there...”

Kiara grasped both of JJ’s arms. “Rafe and I were never dating. But,” she dropped her arms. “we had sex. Nothing romantic or anything. I just... wanted to fit in.”

“What?” JJ asked, concerned. His jealousy dissipating.

Kiara chuckled sadly. “All of the Kooks were dating each other or having sex with each other, but there was me. Just a new money girl who was somewhat close to Sarah Cameron. I hated Rafe even then, but he was the easiest solution to my problem.”

“Kie... that’s awful.”

She shook her head. “I really don’t care. But, my parents think that I should date a Kook to keep at least my toe in the water, and according to them, Rafe is the best choice.”

JJ cleared his throat and smirked at Kiara. “Kie, you are so not a Kook so what’s the point?” The two of them laughed for the first time that night, and it felt heartwarming after such a dramatic day.

The next day found the Pogues finally relaxing on the beach. They made the executive decision to put a pause on the treasure hunt and got the much needed rest after a long a time. Pope handed John B a beer and looked intently at JJ and Kiara, who were sitting together on the sand. “What’s up with that?” he asked John B. John B looked at the scene and shrugged his shoulders.

Meanwhile, JJ gave Kiara a playful shove, and the two laughed. Their relationship seemed... different to JJ, and he wasn’t complaining. Kiara finally seemed to trust him, and JJ was happy. He didn’t know yesterday why he was so concerned about Kiara, but today was enlightening. He definitely had feelings for her, but he was hesitant to give it a go again.

“Hey, Kie,” JJ began, deciding to let out his feelings as soon as possible. “I got something to tell-”

“Well, look at the trash on the beach. They really should clean this place up.”

JJ looked up and sneered at the person speaking. It was Rafe with a smug expression on his face. “What do you want, greaseball?” Kiara spat out.

“C’mon, Kie, we were having such a great time last night. That was, until you left with the help.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” Kiara set her beer down and rose to face Rafe. He towered over her, and JJ frowned. He stood up and pushed Kiara behind him. “Listen to me and listen well,” JJ gritted out. “Leave Kiara alone if you know what’s good for you.”

“Now, why would I-“

“Because she’s my girlfriend.” Kiara looked at the back of JJ’s head in shock. Is he just saying that to get rid of Rafe or...?

“She wouldn’t date trash like you.”

“But, she is. Guess you don’t know her as well as you think you do.” JJ seethed, waiting for Rafe to respond, but the other boy just raised his arms up in mock surrender and turned around. Then, Kiara put a hand on JJ’s shoulder, forcing him to turn around. “What was that about?” she whispered.

“Before he came,” JJ paused. “I-i was going to tell you that um, I kinda like you.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

Kiara smiled. “I figured that out when you were jealous last night.”

Blushed creeped up his neck. “I was not jealous!”

“Sure, lover boy.” And, then she gave him a chaste kiss.

[danetobelieve]

Tech-tonic Shift || Dave and Winston

When: week beginning 12/07 or so Who: @seizethecarpe​ & @danetobelieve​ Where: the station and etc. Summary: Dave brings Winston some technology that they found at the beach. Warnings: content warnings for death discussion, some slight description of gore and the like

Winston was actually starting to be able to do their job again. They’d taken the week off after Bea’s resurrection, mainly because all the tech around them had immediately gone haywire. After a week it hadn’t really been that workable but Winston had barely been in the job a week and taking an extended period of time off was hardly ideal. Things had improved vastly since then. A knock at the door however dragged them from their thoughts and Winston looked up from the array of monitors they’d been given as part of their new role. Honestly, one of the reasons that Winston enjoyed their work so much was the cool stuff they got to work with. Obviously this wasn’t all top of the line, but then again it was a ‘sleepy’ backwater town in Maine. Looking up, Winston spotted officer Redwood. “Hey Winston, there’s a guy here to see you, found some tech on the beach or something … seems more your area then ours?” Winston honestly wasn’t sure that it was, but when it came to anything with anymore then a six inch screen they were usually the one who ended up doing it. Apparently things hadn’t changed with the new job. Which was fine. “Sure, I’m happy to take a look at it.” Winston held the door open and spotted someone almost exactly there height. “Hi, my names Winston Dane, I’m a forensic technician here, you had something you’d brought in?”

Sometimes the end of the hunt wasn’t a successful kill, but the hope of closure. Dave knew a thing or two about that. Some days he woke up with nothing but the desire to feel the fury’s neck tear under his teeth, and sometimes he was too worn to want anything but the chance to say goodbye. Figured it was the same for everyone else, so when he’d heard rumbles of a beach that was the site of a number of disappearances he’d had to explore it. When he saw some seals hauled up and untouched, it looked all kinds of friendly to him, even with the broken down warning signs. But when he’d had a real walk, he’d begun finding them. Bits of sunglasses here, phones there. After an hour's walk on the beach, he’d found some things worth salvaging. Things that had been spit back out after. Some of it was beyond rescue, some of it wasn’t, but hell, maybe there was someone who would want them back. And hell, Dave had no idea what people could do with tech these days. So he’d brought the whole batch over to the WCPD. When he was finally directed to the person who could help, he offered them a wide hand to shake. “Dave Herring. I was having a walk on one of them beaches that no one sunbathes on, and found all of these ipods and kindles and I don’t know what kinda gizmos. I was told you might be able to help me get them to the right persons.”

Honestly, when Winston had started their day today (with coffee as usual) they hadn’t expected this. But it was certainly an interesting problem. Winston paused for a moment as they considered what this guy was saying. “Okay Dave, cool to meet you…” Winston glanced at the man opposite them before pulling up a chair and taking another one for themselves. “I don’t know if you’ve got all of that stuff with you, but the best way to do it would probably to see if we can work out who they belong to and then I can try and get in contact with them and let them know that you found them and returned them. I’m sure they’ll be really grateful, it’s really nice of you to bring these up.” Winston found that it was less nerve wracking talking to people in a professional capacity then it was when they were in a social environment. “Which beach did you find these at?” Winston asked, curious as to why there was such a great variety of items just being abandoned on a beach.

“As a matter’o fact, I do,” Dave replied, swinging a rough looking tackle bag from his back, that he hadn’t updated since at least the eighties. Why replace what you could stitch and fix back together? ‘Specially when things these days weren’t made to last. Piece by piece, he picked out the salvaged tech, sand grains sticking to each piece. No matter how battered each individual thing was, he set it down on this young Dane’s desk with careful reverence. Some of these things likely had photos of the people that had lost them, and maybe answers too. “Uh, the one just south of Vicker’s beach.”

“Oh, wow, cool.” Winston was pretty sure that the bag that Dave had used to bring the proverbial goodies into Winston was older then they were. However, they weren’t going to complain. At least he had thought to have the good sense to bring them in at all, which was more then most people. Apparently that fact was more true on the one just south of Vicker’s beach. Winston was pretty sure that there was a veritable plethora of iPods (there was an old nano, an iPod classic, two iPod shuffles and four iPod touches), several phones, a couple of kindles and a few other versions of e-readers, an iPad and what looked like the very battered remains of a Alienware laptop. Winston pulled on a set of gloves and glanced at the tech. “You weren’t kidding, this is really a lot of stuff. Weird that people would just leave this all behind, I guess the first thing to do is clean them all up as best I can, then get them charged and see if I can access them.” Winston looked up at Dave. “This is gonna take me a while Dave, can you come back in like a few days or something and I can let you know what sort of progress I’ve made?” 

“Sure thing,” Dave said, slinging the worn canvas bag back onto his back, looking at the random assortments  he’d left on the technician’s desk. Hoped this Dane person would be able to find their homes, even if their owners were long gone. Plucking his sunglasses from his shirt pocked, Dave nodded his head, and headed out. No point in lingering to waste anyone here’s time. 

-------

Several days’d passed, and Dave’d eventually made the trip back to the station to see where the electronic detective had gotten with all them gizmos. He’d done another pass of the beach in the mean time, running his fingers through the sand, but nothing new had surfaced. But sand beaches could swallow and unearth their secrets at any time and maybe he’d found all the big things on his first round. Maybe he wasn’t the only one patrolling the beach for little treasure treats. All the same, he was quickly directed back to Dane’s office, and knocked politely, summer hat clasped in his hands. 

Winston had been working on the lost items as much as possible. Finding all the various charging cables had been challenging in itself. Of the gizmos that had been brought into Winston, a good proportion of them would need repairs to hardware before they could be recharged. A few had broken screens which made accessing them difficult. The rest worked to varying degrees. Spotting Dave knocking at the door to their office, Winston pulled it open and ushered him in. “Hey, welcome back Dave, you want a drink or anything …” they weren’t sure if Police Station Coffee would be to Dave’s taste but it was polite to offer, “You didn’t find anymore tech did you?” Winston asked, a little concerned about the amount of it that was apparently turning up. 

“Nah, I’m alright, thanks all the same,” Dave replied, waving away any such coffee request as he stepped inside. He set his bag down, and pulled out a quarter of some old kindle, and what had once been the motherboard of some kind of smart phone. “Ain’t too sure you’ll get any use out of these. It’s just that one shore, though. You’ll find trash anywhere, but just whole things abandoned on this one.”

“Sure, it’s cool, the coffee here sucks,” Winston raised an eyebrow at the scraps that Dave had brought in. “I’ll take a look at them if it’s all the same to you, I don’t really know what I might be able to do with it. You never know what you might be able to pull off of something, even if there’s no way to access any of the data that was once there forensics can get a lot. I’m always … surprised by it.” Winston paused for a second. “Anyway, I’ve managed to get into one of the phones, it’s one of the newer models actually and the lady who owned it had a pretty good case on it. It was just scratched up really.” Winston pulled a evidence bag towards them and turned it over so Dave could see the phone inside. “It’s belongs to a lady called Elaine Thompson, she lived here in town, is a retired lawyer apparently. When I matched the phone to her I realised that there is a missing persons report attached to it. Elaine went missing in February of this year.” 

“Ha, noted,” Dave replied with a laugh. “Not much of a coffee guy myself, but I’ll keep that in mind.” The caffeine gave him headaches as often as not these days, heavy pounding ones not worth the kickstart to the morning he promised. Besides, sleep was the one thing in his life he had complete control of. He slid the little pieces onto Winston’s desk. “Yeah, you;d know better’n me.” When Dane said they’d found something, he perked right up, clasping his hand behind his back and leaning over the phone. “Shit. That aint good. This here uh beach I found this all on, it had a couple broken signs, saying it wasn’t all that safe to stay there too long. Wonder if maybe all this has somethin’ to do with that.”

Winston was not convinced that there was such a thing as someone who wasn’t a coffee guy. They themselves lived off of the stuff. Sometimes to an unhealthy level. However, that was hardly important compared to the other problem at hand. Dave seemed concerned by the news, however it was nothing compared to the concern that Winston themselves felt at the fact that they had been found in an area with broken signs warning about a hazard. “Okay, that sounds like bad news,” Winston wondered whether this was a coincidence. Maybe Elaine had simply wandered onto the beach and something terrible had happened. They were almost praying that this wasn’t supernaturally related. “I’ve got a map of White Crest’s coastline, can you show me where on the map this area is?” Winston pulled up the map on an iPad and handed Dave a stylus, “You can just draw onto the screen, if you use your fingers to like drag the map to where you want, then you can you know … draw with the pen thing.” Why would they call it a pen thing? “Anyway, if there were signs here we should definitely get someone to check it out properly.” 

“Yeah, sure thing,” Dave agreed, sitting in the seat opposite Winston’s desk. He’d expected them to pick up a physical map, but instead he was handed an iPad and a stylus. Hell, Dave had only made the switch to a touchscreen phone three years ago, and was constantly typing the wrong buttons, clicking on things that he oughtn’t and getting lost through ads that looked like links on the website and dragged him some place else. The moment he took the iPad, he accidentally clicked the homescreen button. “Uh,” he said, gesturing for Winston to refind all of it. Once they had, Dave was more cautious, poking the screen in short bursts until he got to the area south of Vicker’s, using the pen, he cautiously drew a bubble around the beach in question. 

“Awesome,” Winston dropped slowly into the seat next to Dave’s, watching them carefully pick up the iPad. There were some set backs but that was to be expected and Winston had seen much worse. Some of the older members of staff in the station didn’t know the difference between a fax machine and a printer, many of them were convinced that faxes were the optimum method of transferring information too. “Don’t worry, happens to the best of us.” Winston watched Dave mark out the area before taking several screenshots and sending them off to the relevant people within the station. “Some officers are going to meet us down there, but you’ve actually … you know been out to this beach and gotten there relatively unscatched, do you think you could show us the areas you found everything and we can set up some method of monitoring it so we can work out why this is happening…?” 

“Hmmm,” Was all  Dave had to say to that. He was happy just fine with his laptop from 2010 and a phone with a case thick enough it could be mistaken for a brick. This was not his expertise. At Dane’s suggestion, he nodded, although he had a bad feeling about it right deep in his gut. “Ain’t too hard to get to, it just seems dangerous to stay on.” With plenty of signs of danger on all ends. It wasn’t even one of the beaches with the more dangerous waves nor riptides. “Anyhow, I’m here to help, however that might be. Just letting you know I’m new to town. Don’t know much of anything about the beaches yet.”

“Well, welcome to White Crest, I’m sorry that this was one of your first experiences of the town, it’s not as bad as everyone makes it out to be.” Winston being one of the key culprits for that particular crime. “If you’re free now we might as well go check it out now, officer Redwood has volunteered to drive us down to the beach,” which was good because Winston didn’t think that they should be having anyone in their terrible piece of shit car within any sort of work capacity, “so if you’re happy to join us then we can get going straight away. Hopefully this won’t take too much of your time.” 

“Sure am,” Dave replied, dropping his hands to his thighs and pushing against his knees to stand up again. “No time like the present.” Not long after, there was officer Redwood, whose hand Dave shook too, and they were lead to the car. Dave gave directions to the beach, and they were soon on their way. As Officer Redwood pulled up, Dave scanned the waters. Shrinking tides, and with the sunny sky, the water wasn’t that violent either. In all things, it seemed a perfect beach day, but the beach was near empty of people. Everyone either avoided it or somethin’ worse was causing the gap. “See here. Sign’s barely even legible, completely rotted through.” He pointed it out, nudging it with his boot

The sea wind swept through Winston’s hair and slowly dried out their lips. Winston squinted into the sun through their glasses and couldn’t help but wish that they had brought their sunglasses with them. Looking down at what was a truly rotten sign, Winston couldn’t help but wonder what was up with this place. “That’s really weird,” Winston crouched down and pulled the remains of a large red sign that had once given a warning of some kind from the wet sand. “Did you see other signs like this … ?” Winston had to admit that it was weird to them, they weren’t sure what it was, but there was something off about this that didn’t quite add up, Winston took a step towards the beach. 

“Yeah, one down on the south end. Doesn’t seem to matter that you can’t seem them though, for a sand beach it sure is empty,” Dave said, looking out along the beach. He’d been wrong. There was one man, lying on a striped blue beach towel, flicking on his phone. David frowned, looking around the rest of the beach. Instinctively, he raised his hand in front of Winston, because while he knew he’d walked it fine, people didn’t avoid such a pretty place for nothing. “Careful now. Sure those signs are there for a reason.”

Spotting the man lying on the beach towel Winston was about to say something to them and was making their way over when Dave’s hand rose in front of them. “Broken signs and an empty beach,” Winston wasn’t sure whether or not this was really true, but they were almost certain that there was something going on here that was supernatural, it didn’t make sense for this to be something … mundane, and yet there was definitely something weird going on here, “that doesn’t seem weird at all.” Swallowing, Winston looked at the man on the beach, was he beginning to sink a little or were they seeing things? “Is he getting lower…?”

“I don’t have the faintest-” Dave turned back to the beach with a frown. Winston was right, the man was sinking, slowly at first. He didn’t seem to realise, but as Dave began to move, the man began to yell. Dave dropped his things and sprinted across the beach. Ignoring the police altogether, he grabbed the man’s arm, and tried to yank him back out. He came far too easily, so much so that Dave fell back from how hard he yanked. Only, the only thing he’d rescued was an arm dripping blood. “What the fuck.” He began to dig through the sand where the man had been, frantically throwing sand behind him as he dug his hands deeper and deeper, but as most when he reached the water logged sand, it smelled like iron, but he couldn’t quite see how blood soaked and red it truly was. 

What happened next would’ve been perfectly placed within a horror movie, Winston saw the man sinking, they tried to move with Dave as he went to help the sunbather but they weren’t nearly as quick or spry as their older companion. Darting after Dave, Winston was gasping for breath and had half a mind to reach for their inhaler and then they saw the hand that was in Dave’s possession. “Okay, fuck, off the sand now.” Winston wasn’t giving an option here, they could look for the man all that they wanted but from the arm that had been left behind and the red splodge of blood soaking into the water and dirt around them, Winston doubted there was anything left to look for. “I think he’s gone Dave,” they swallowed as the Officers that they had come here with looked at one another as if they should be doing something but weren’t sure what, “we need to get back to the station and cordon this place off but first we need to get out of the sand.” 

After a long pause, Dave nodded, pressing his bloodied hands against his knees to push himself standing upright. He was breathing heavily, his lungs protesting the exertion. “Think you’re right, Dane. Alright, let’s go.” Pressing a hand to his side, he followed them off the sands, still holding the arm in his hand, it dripping blood onto the sand as they returned back to the embankment. “Don’t understand a thing. I walked that beach for hours last week. Ain’t seen nothing like this.”

Pursing their lips at the scene that they had just witnessed, Winston couldn’t help but worry about all of the people who could’ve been hurt like this. They weren’t sure what they had just seen. Honestly, it didn't really make any sense to them. They had seen things that could do this, but they were always physical things. Not entire pieces of land. Apparently previous signs hadn’t been successful but they had to do something. “I don’t get it either, but I’m going to look into it, I don’t think it was entirely natural and whatever it is that can do something like that is beyond me.” Winston paused for a second longer and frowned. What was different about Dave if he had been able to comb the beach without getting harmed. “We’re missing something and as soon as we find out what we can actually do something about it.” 

[lucifers-trash-stash]

Friendly Wager

Summary: Destiny had always been attracted to Negan, but the two finally get a chance to get to know each other in a little arcade during a scavenging trip.

A/N: This fic has been a WIP for a while now, and I’m so happy to finally have it finished! This fic is for @i-am-negan-trash‘s fic exchange, and my partner is @daddy-kink-confirmed.

Word Count: 7,484

Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex, light breath play, daddy kink, unprotected sex.

“Took us long enough. The boss sure knows how to pick ‘em,” Simon grumbled under his breath in the passenger’s seat. Destiny, who sat behind him in the Jeep, pulled herself out of her daydream and sat up as she looked at her surroundings.

The Jeep had stopped in the middle of an abandoned main street in some small town a little ways from Sanctuary, though Destiny hadn’t been paying attention to the name. The street certainly hadn’t fared well once the dead started walking, and the abandoned stretch of pavement was littered with glass and empty storefronts. Obviously looted, but there was always something worth finding. Every little bit helped these days.  

As the other men in the Jeep began to leave, Destiny followed suit. Her boots hit the pavement with a thud as she slid out of the truck. Absentmindedly, she watched as one of the larger trucks pulled in behind the Jeep. Milling around as she waited for instruction, she took a few steps with her hands in her jacket pockets. Negan had ordered a cleanup crew the day before to take care of any walkers that were wandering around in the streets so that she and the other members of the scavenging crew could take care of finding supplies today.

Destiny found herself glancing over at the truck as Negan made his way over to her and the group of Saviors. Usually he never went on scavenging trips, but Negan wanted to be here in case something went wrong, considering this used to be a populated area.

Distractedly, she ran her fingers through her straight black hair, fluffing it up and  trying to not make it apparent she was looking directly at him. She’d wanted to be with Negan for a while now, but found herself to be too shy to even give him a hint. Everything about him made her heart flutter, that scruffy salt and pepper beard, the dimples that dotted the corners of his ever-present wide grin, and how he confidently held himself everywhere he went. It was frustrating how much she wanted to be near him, but she always considered it a pipe dream that he would ever be interested in her. She wasn’t even going to touch the topic of the wives. That was a whole other can of worms.

“Listen up, ‘cause I’m not gonna fucking repeat myself again,” Negan’s voice boomed out as he addressed the small crowd. His hazel eyes connected with her blue ones through her glasses for a moment, and as cliche as it sounds, time stopped. Then he continued to sweep his gaze over the eyes, and time moved forward again. “There’s a lot of goodies that could be hidden around here, and I want to make sure we pick this place fucking clean like the fucking dining room table at Grandma’s Thanksgiving feast. Capiche?”

Quite aware of the usual drill, Destiny and the other Saviors nodded. Feeling a little flustered, Destiny looked away, pulling her glasses off and cleaning them against her shirt uselessly.

“Fucking phenomenal. Now, I hope it won’t be a fucking issue, but we’re gonna split into pairs today. Always good to rely on the buddy system in a place like this. All it takes is one dumb fuck to not be paying attention and get themselves turned into fucking raw, worm food for the dickless, heartless dead fuckers. So get your goddamned partners and head out!”

Placing her black-framed glasses back on her nose, Destiny looked around. The other Saviors were pairing up with each other automatically. She bit the inside of her cheek, the situation akin to a middle school teacher assigning group work when none of her friends were in the class. She usually paired off with Arat or Laura, but both were off duty today, far away home back at the Sanctuary. To top it off, it was like gym class, too; nobody wanted to pick her to be on their team.  

“Damn honey, looks like you just won the fucking lottery,” Negan’s voice boomed behind her, making her jump and turn around. When had he snuck up on her? He stood uncomfortably close, a playful smirk on his lips. “I don’t fucking believe I know your name?”

She blinked at him owlishly from behind her glasses. That’s right; they’ve never been one-on-one before. “Destiny.” She was proud at least that she didn’t stutter.

“Destiny,” he repeated, and then licked his lips like he was tasting the name. “Destiny. I like it.” Negan tested it out again, over-exaggerating the movement of his lips, “Destiny.” He had to be exaggerating it, right? It couldn’t just be how she couldn’t look away from his clever mouth. “I’ve got a fucking date with Destiny,” Negan joked, the same playfulness in his eyes that was in his toothy grin.

Internally she groaned. All her life she heard that joke, but funnily enough when Negan said it, she didn’t mind as much. Well, an attractive man like him had never made the joke before. Of course she would like it when Negan said it.

Not seeming to mind that she didn’t laugh at the joke, Negan briskly moved on. Destiny admired how nothing seemed to faze the man; she wished she could have confidence like that. “Guess we’re gonna have to be fucking partners,” Negan smoothly drawled, “seeing as how everyone else left you fucking high and dry.”

“I guess so,” Destiny mused. She shrugged her shoulders, not trying to make it apparent that she was practically swooning over just being able to talk with him.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’d never leave a fucking pretty little thing like you high and fucking dry.” Negan winked - actually winked. ��Quite the fucking opposite.” Before she could sputter and embarrass herself, he mercifully moved on. “Lead the fucking way, darlin’,” Negan said with a grin, gesturing with Lucille.

Skirting around Lucille nervously, Destiny avoided Negan’s eye. He made her nervous - not just because he was dangerous, but because he was seductively dangerous. The kind of dangerous that was worth taking stupid risks just for the chance at living to the fullest.

Noting her skittish nature, Negan twirled the bat in his hand, her barbed wire glittering, and slung her up on his shoulder. “Believe me, you’re safe as long as Lucille and I have anything to say about it.” He leaned backwards, giving her space, and Destiny found she could breathe again.

Destiny nodded and turned back to the street, hoping Negan wouldn’t catch a glimpse of her rising blush. All this time she wanted even the chance to get close to Negan, and now here he was, as handsome as ever.

But this wasn’t a time to screw around and fawn over Negan like a ditzy school girl. She was at work, and she needed to relax and focus. If she didn’t, things really could go wrong. She was aware of this, and yet found herself getting chills when Negan followed close behind her as she made her way to the storefronts.

It seemed like most of the Saviors had staked out certain stores and the sounds of ransacking could be heard inside many of them. She moved past the occupied buildings and spotted one that no one seemed to have chosen. Her eyes widened at the sight of it, a place full of treasures from before the apocalypse that she missed every day since: an arcade.

Destiny used to spend hours playing her favorite video games before the walkers, and now a place lined with old retro arcade machines was right in front of her nose. Even though a part of her knew these machines wouldn’t be functioning without electricity, it still didn’t stop her from walking right through the door.

When she moved through the room, she could see the dust motes floating in the sunbeams that cast through the window. It had that familiar smell of an abandoned property that most other buildings had by this point: faint smell of rot from the dead and the rot of untended to repairs from water damage in the wood. The smell of mold from cracked, galvanized copper pipes, and the musty smell of stagnant air. There were no broken windows, so not much weather damage had been done to the interior; it was mainly limited to the dilapidated storefront and the surrounding sides of the building between the narrow alley spaces. Other than a little dirt, dust, and grime on the inside, the place looked good.

Forgetting that Negan was even there, she let her feet carry her to the row of arcade machines lined in front of the windows. For a small little arcade, they had a pretty decent selection. The panels on the machines were dull in color, but when she brushed the dust off with her hand the colors popped out. This one was a Donkey Kong machine. The other machines that stood out to her was a hunting game with a plastic gun that probably wouldn’t work anymore, a Pacman machine, Tetris, and a Mortal Kombat machine, just to name a few. She was surprised there were quite a few classic titles. The person that owned this store must have really treasured their machines to keep them in working order until the walkers struck.

It wasn’t just arcade machines either. The usual suspects were all here, like a foosball table, a basketball shooting game, and an air hockey table. She suspected these kinds of games were more up Negan’s alley, though she enjoyed them just as well.

“Well, well, well! Lookie what we’ve fuck, fuck, fuckity got here!” Negan exclaimed with a clap of his hands.

Destiny turned around, her face flushed at the possibility that he was teasing her over her interest in the arcade games. However, Negan was more focused on the pool table in the middle of the room, obviously placed so that it was accessible from every angle. It must have been the most popular attraction of the place. Destiny had been so enamoured by the machines that she didn’t even remember needing to walk around the table.

“This thing is a fucking beauty! Been looking for one of these for a long damn time!” Negan said with a grin as he picked up a pool cue chalk, blue powder crumbling on his black leather glove. He placed it back, rubbing his fingers together and examining how the excess smeared. Destiny’s mind wandered down another avenue, and her thighs clenched together at the possibilities. Negan blew the powder away and it collided with the dust motes in an entrancing swirl hovering around Negan’s face. “This is going to look fucking nice next to the ping pong table!” He crowed victoriously, and Destiny was pulled from her thoughts as though a bucket of water was dumped on her head.

Recovering quickly, she smiled to herself as she watched him light up like a kid on Christmas at the array of games. In fact, it was the first time his smile seemed truly genuine and not the typical cocky front he put on in front of his men. In that moment, Destiny felt special for inadvertently being the cause of his happiness; she was glad she could at least watch the moment happen, too.

An orange blur suddenly came into view, making her flinch and throw up her hands with a squeal. Her hands juggled the object back and forth before it finally was captured in her grip. It was one of the small basketballs - surprisingly not deflated - from the game in the corner.

“Great reflexes there, tiger,” Negan teased with a wink. He was leaning up against the machine, those long legs of his stretched out so perfectly. Destiny tried her best to not drag her eyes up and down his body, especially when she realized he had opened his leather jacket so she could see the fitted white t-shirt beneath. Negan continued, “We’ve got some time to kill, what do you say to some friendly fucking matches here?”

Destiny’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t we supposed to be looking for supplies?” she asked.

“We’ve got some time to kill,” Negan said with a shrug. “Besides, other than that pool table, we won’t be able to take all these games back. Might as well make the fucking best of them while we’ve got them, right?”

Destiny sighed. While she didn’t mind playing with Negan, his words just brought home how it would probably not be in their best interest to take an arcade machine that they may or may not be able to hook up and get working back at the Sanctuary. The generators had better things to power. She didn’t say any of this to Negan of course, and instead agreed to his proposal with a smile. “Okay, Negan.”

“Fucking great!” He exclaimed, smiling right back. “Let’s shoot some fucking hoops!”

The two started at the basketball game, taking turns shooting baskets and trying to keep count. Negan kept trying to distract Destiny by talking whenever she was trying to concentrate on the ball, and she barely managed to keep neck in neck with his score. As usual with Negan, he talked about whatever struck his fancy, but it was enough to make her laugh, causing her to miss most of her shots. Every time she laughed, Negan was absolutely delighted; and not just because that would put him in the lead, too. He was a big show-off with his shots, arcing his body and putting his hands just so every time, smiling wide with every swoosh of the net.

Once Negan reached twenty baskets, though, he already had his eyes set on the air hockey table. “Come on, give me a real fucking challenge, Destiny.” He dragged her away with a tight, not-too-tight grip on her hand, tossing the basketball to the side. “That was hardly a fair fucking game anyway. I used to fucking coach that shit.”

“Seriously?” Destiny tried to picture Negan in the whistle and the gym shorts, and suddenly how he yelled orders at his Saviors made a lot more sense. It was also a pretty picture, thinking about how Negan would look in a pair of sweatpants that would showcase just everything if you squinted and turned your head a certain way.

“Yeah, fucking seriously. Took those little shits to the state championship every goddamn year, too,” he boasted proudly, silver threaded chin tilted up so his nose was in the air. He had that sly grin again, eyes flashing with promised trouble. “Try and beat me at this instead, darlin’, and we’ll see if that’s fucking fair.”

Negan was a hard hitter, always pushing the puck so hard that it careened and smashed back and forth on the sides of the table. Even so, Destiny quickly saw through his weakness. While he was always quick to hit the puck as hard as possible, he wasn’t always as mindful of the goal because he held his striker at arm’s length. In the end, her strategy worked, and once she got the puck to hit the wall in just the right place to get past his arm, she always sunk it in.

“You just got fucking lucky, that’s all,” Negan said with a pout after she made the final goal. “Let’s see if you can keep it up with some foosball. You’re looking at the fucking champion at my fucking college.”

Destiny had played a fair amount of foosball herself, but it was never her strong suit. She was hardly surprised when Negan was so easily able to sink into her goal while she scrambled to turn the knobs of her players. His aggressive playing style was much better suited to this game, as he had no problem hitting the ball at such a speed that she could barely keep up. After a while, Negan had his fun with wiping the floor with Destiny, and set his sights on the piece de resistance: the pool table.

“Okay, enough beating our dicks at the cheap shit. I have to test this fucker out before we take it back.” He placed his hands covetously on the green felt and looked up at her with glittering, hazel eyes. “You know, just to fucking check and see if all of this heavy shit is even worth carting all the way fucking back.” Negan winked for good measure, and then grabbed one of the pool cues before he held it out to her. “Ready, Destiny?”

Not ready at all, Destiny hesitated. The other games had been easy to figure out, but pool wasn’t something she had ever played before. From what she’s heard about it, it required math to do. “Oh, um,” she shyly suggested, “can’t you play by yourself?”

Evidently, she surprised him, and Negan’s eyes went wide. He dropped the pool cue by his side, listing his head to the right as he stared at her. “Well, I suppose I can jack myself off, too, but when there’s always willing pussy around, I don’t fucking do that. Why don’t you wanna play with me, baby? You’ve got nothing else to do. Besides, I promise I’ll take it real fucking easy on you. It’ll be good fucking fun.”

“I…” she began hesitantly, “I don’t really know how to play.” Destiny bit her lip, careful to avoid her piercing. She had managed to keep it meticulously clean, but had developed a nervous habit where she bit around it, or at least flicked her tongue over it anxiously. Her eyes darted to the door. They had spent enough time here, too. Soon it would be time to pack up and head back to the Sanctuary before nightfall. She didn’t want her one-on-one time with Negan to end so soon - she really had been enjoying being in his company - but all good things must come to an end.

“Sh-yeet,” Negan stretched out, his smile returning easily. “Is that fucking all? That’s no fucking foreskin off my fat dick, sweetheart. I’ll just fucking teach you. It’s really an easy game to play once you know the basics.” He stalked over to her side of the pool table, his pace graceful and smooth compared to his coarse language, his strides long. Once again, he held out the pool cue to her horizontally, urging her to take it.

Tentatively, she did, bringing it close to her body. “Okay, Negan. I’ll play.”

“Good girl,” Negan crooned, and Destiny tried not to melt all over the floor. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he mercifully didn’t point it out. Instead, Negan turned to the pool table and held out his hand over it as he explained. “Why don’t we face off against each other? I’ll be solids.” He grabbed the red number 3 ball and held it up for Destiny’s inspection. Returning it to the table, he grabbed another ball - the red number 13 one and then held that one up similarly. “And you’ll be stripes, okay, tiger?” Negan grinned at her rakishly, and Destiny nodded with a blush in her cheeks.

As Negan explained the game, he moved around back to his side of the pool table. “We sink our balls in - trying not to sink each others - any of the pockets. Doesn’t really fucking matter which one. You can’t let the white ball go into the pocket. If it does, you lose a turn. If you don’t get a ball into the fucking pocket, you lose a turn. The eight ball is the last one to go into the fucking pocket. First one to finish wins. Simple e-fucking-nough for ya, Destiny?”

Resting the bottom of the pool cue on the floor, Destiny studied the table. “I guess so. Do I have to hit the ball directly or…?”

“How you hit it doesn’t fucking matter.” Negan waved his hand dismissively, cutting it through the air and through the heart of the matter. “Just try and get your fucking balls in the hole. That’s a motto I fucking live by.”

Again, Destiny blushed. “Okay. I understand.”

“Good. I fucking pegged you for a fast learner.” Racking up the balls, Negan got them into position and then placed the white pool ball before them. “You want to fucking break the set or shall I?”

“Oh, you can do it. I don’t mind just watching.”

Obviously amused, Negan hummed. “Fuck yeah, I bet you don’t mind watching. I prefer being an active fucking participant myself, though.” He crooked his long fingers at her, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, Destiny, baby. Live a little. Bust my fucking balls.”

With a wobble in her step, Destiny obeyed. Her feet moved without her telling them to, and she found herself standing just in front of Negan, staring down the pool table. Awkwardly, she shifted the pool cue in her grip and tried to copy what she had seen before in the movies. Instead of trying to hit the white ball, she grabbed it to steady her hand as she tried to hit the other balls dead on. Negan immediately stopped her.

“Not like that, cupcake. Here.” Stepping up behind her until she could feel the warmth of his presence, Negan smoothly curved his long form over her. His chest brushed against her back and she had to fight back the urge to arch into his touch. From his close proximity alone, Destiny was losing brain cells. She couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe around him. He smelled so good. Like cloves and sandalwood.

Seemingly unaware of her reaction, Negan placed his hand over hers, lining her up properly. Placing his mouth close to her ear, he practically purred, “You just want to let the pool cue slide between your fucking fingers like this.” He demonstrated, pushing it back and forth, back and forth. Naturally, Destiny’s mind wandered to other places. When he spoke, his deep voice reverberated through his chest and made Destiny’s back tingle pleasantly. “Got it? And then you just fucking line up the shot and just…”

The pool stick hit the white ball with a crack, and the white ball hit the other balls with a louder, rippling crack as they scattered over the green felt, bouncing off the sides of the pool table. “Perfecto,” Negan crooned right in her ear, and this time Destiny couldn’t stop herself from shivering.

Just like that, Negan drew back again. Standing up straight, Destiny nervously turned around to face him, unsure of herself. She felt like such a fool. But Negan squinted at her thoughtfully, grabbing his own pool cue and shifting it restlessly from hand to hand. It was like he could see right through her, right into her mind and the gutter it was drowning in. “How about we make this fucking interesting, huh, Destiny?”

Avoiding his knowing gaze, Destiny asked anyway, “What did you have in mind?”

Negan’s gloved hand came up and gently tipped her face towards his. The leather was an interesting and not altogether unpleasant sensation. It was blessedly cool on her hot face, which only blushed hotter under Negan’s heated stare. “I was fucking thinking that you and I could have ourselves a game of strip-pool.” His fingers brushed over her cheeks, pushing her hair behind her ears. “For every ball you put in the pocket, I’ll fucking take something off. And for every ball I put in the pocket, you take something off for Daddy. You see where I’m going with this?”

She definitely saw where he was going with this. As soon as he referred to himself as ‘Daddy’, Destiny was gone. She didn’t even dare to hope before, but now what he was proposing wasn’t something she could so easily pass up. Of course, she knew that since she was inexperienced with this, she’d probably end up getting naked first, but it was a risk she was willing to take. What could she say, except that Negan inspired the best and worst in her. “Deal,” she agreed.

“Deal, what?”

For a moment Destiny hesitated, not quite knowing her mistake. Then Negan raised his eyebrows at her expectantly, and it clicked into place. “Deal, Daddy.”

“That’s fucking right, Destiny. Such a good girl.” He patted her cheek, dragging his thumb over her bottom lip around her piercing. She flicked her tongue out and tasted the leather, and Negan’s eyes went dark with lust. “Game fucking on.” He pulled away and gestured at the table. “Ladies first.”

All too eager now to play, Destiny turned back to the table with determination. She quickly noted where the striped balls were and moved into position. “Do I have to sink them numerically?”

“Fuck no, just get them in the fucking hole.” In a much lower voice, Negan added, “You get your balls in the hole and I’ll put something in your fucking hole, how about that?”

Not needing any further encouragement, Destiny eagerly tried to shoot the blue striped ball in the nearest pocket. It was a slightly awkward angle, but it was the clearest shot with no other balls in the wall. Following Negan’s instructions, she closed one eye - and just as she was about to shoot, a hand cracked down on her ass. She hit way too hard, and instead of sinking in the pocket, the ball hit the side and bounced until it clattered into another ball. A little angry, Destiny whipped around and shot a glare at Negan. “You cheated,” she flatly accused.

But the man was only all too pleased with himself of course. “My fucking apologies, Destiny, but if you’re gonna wave that cute ass of yours around, I’m not gonna be able to help myself.” He smiled with boyish charm, and lifted his pool cue to his shoulder much like he does with Lucille. Lucille, as it was, was resting within reach against the Donkey Kong arcade machine. She kept a watchful eye over them both. “Guess it’s my fucking turn.”

Without even trying, Negan sunk in the orange ball and then expectantly turned to Destiny. She stared at him for a moment, and then grasped both her courage and the bottom of her shirt with both hands before she tugged it over her head. Thankfully, she didn’t get stuck, and it fluffed up her hair quite nicely. It took a full minute for her brain to register that she was standing in front of Negan in her bra, but in that minute, she watched Negan eye her up appreciatively. Thank God she was wearing her nice bra today by chance.

“God damn,” Negan uttered, tongue dragging across his bottom slip slowly. “I could just eat you up, you look so fucking good right now, Destiny.” He shook his head slightly, eyes glued to her bra, and then quickly turned back to the pool table to line up another shot. His shot was lined up to try and sink two simultaneously, but it didn’t pander out. Negan lost his turn. “Shit.”

“My turn.” Destiny stepped up to the table and once again tried to sink the blue striped ball. This time she was out of Negan’s reach since he was across the table, and he didn’t try to make her slip up again, instead choosing to remain silent. The blue striped ball sunk, and Destiny fist pumped excitedly. “I got it!”

“Great job, sweetheart,” Negan said, and it sounded sincere. Tucking his pool cue under his arm, Negan held up his gloved hand at eye level and then ever so slowly tugged the glove off and tossed it aside. He wiggled his now bare fingers at her in a playful wave, though Destiny imagined those fingers curving elsewhere.

Her face must have been transparent, because Negan impatiently amped up their deal. “You know what, sweetheart? How about every time you put a ball in the hole, Daddy puts a finger in your tight little hole. That sound like fun to you?” His grin sharpened. “Gotta loosen you up before you take Daddy’s thick, meaty, big dick, huh, baby?”

Destiny bit her bottom lip around the piercing again. Her thighs pressed together at the thought, though her gaze flickered to the front of the arcade again. The machines blocked the window, and the window itself had such a thick layer of dust, pollen, and grime that it was practically opaque. The only way anyone would be able to see them is if they came inside. As it was, they could hear the sounds of the others talking and loading up the trucks. They still had time, but it was obviously running short.

Sensing the reason for her hesitation, Negan stepped forward into her space again, head dipping low. “Don’t you worry about that, tiger. I’ll be able to fuck you real nice before we leave.” Brushing his lips over her forehead, Negan placed his hands on her hips, rubbing at her through the fabric of her jeans. “I bet you’d like if they all strolled in to watch me fuck you right here on this pool table. For everyone to see you splayed out for me like a goddamn, dirty girl. You think you’ll be able to keep quiet for me while I’m working over your pussy? Fuck no, you won’t. You’re gonna be nice and loud, just how I like it. I bet I can make a shy girl like you come out of your shell no problem with my dick in your wet, hot pussy.”

As he whispered dirty things to her, Negan’s clever fingers unbuttoned the front of her jeans, slowly pulled down the zipper, and slipped his ungloved hand inside her panties. Down, down, down he ventured until he slipped his long index finger right between her already wet lower lips. Destiny did nothing but stare up at him, silently urging him on with lust-blown wide, blue eyes. Negan obliged, his free hand pushing her black hair over her shoulders, gripping her by the back of the neck as he pressed sweet kisses to her forehead and cheeks. It was so at odds with what he was doing with his other hand.

Trembling in his arms, Destiny grabbed at his biceps to hold herself up. No longer able to remain complacent anymore, she tilted her face up and kissed him. He tasted surprisingly like cinnamon flavored gum. She kissed him again, and Negan kissed back, not seeming to mind the lip piercing. He wasn’t too rough or too cautious. It was perfect.

Pulling away just enough so he could breathe, Negan huffed, “You forfeit the fucking game, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” Destiny threaded her fingers through his hair, rocking into his hand desperately. He was deliberately avoiding touching her clit or slipping his fingers inside her. Instead, he kept his touch feather light and teasing. It was driving her wild. “Take me,” she hesitated only for a second before she continued with something very close to a whine, “take me here, Daddy.”

With a low growl, Negan picked her up and sat her on the edge of the pool table. “Okay, little girl. You’re in for it now.” He yanked her pants down her legs, exposing a long expanse of creamy thighs that he ached to cover in love bites and bruises. “I’ll take my fucking time with you next time - and we can finish the fucking game next time, too.  I fucking need to feel you now.”

His words naturally excited her. “Next time?” She wondered aloud, her heart fluttering in her chest even as heat continued to pool in her belly. The things Negan did to her was head spinning to say the least. Destiny helped him shuck his clinging, black leather jacket off his arms and rucked up his shirt so that he was exposed from belly to chest. He was hairy and had some tattoos. Curiously, she ran her fingers over it, and his skin jumped under her touch.

“Yes, fucking next time,” Negan said confidently. “I had a fucking nice time playing with you today - and I bet I’m gonna have a damn great time fucking you here. But, I’d like to fuck you again, on a fucking bed, up against a goddamn wall, in the shower. Wherever the fuck I can.” Between his words, he pressed urgent kisses down her neck and to the tops of her breasts. “I’m gonna have this sweet pussy in as many positions as I fucking want, and I want to be able to taste it, too. To really take my fucking sweet ass time with it. I’m gonna have you fucking beg for my dick, baby. I want to know how that piercing feels when you suck my dick. I fucking want you, Destiny, all of you.”

While he talked, he pulled her breasts out of the bra, not bothering to take it off. They didn’t have the time, and not just because of the others. The tension was skyrocketing and exploding into this. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Negan bent over her and sucked one of her hardened nipples into his mouth, and Destiny raked her blunt fingernails down his chest in relation. She reached his belts and quickly undid them with stumbling fingers. He felt amazing, and his dirty mouth wasn’t all talk.

With a bit of fumbling, she managed to pull him free, and he was hard and silky in her hands. Not a bad size, but something she would definitely feel phantom pains from tomorrow. It had been a while. Negan switched back and forth between her breasts, lavishing them with attention and causing her to gush excitedly. In turn, she stroked him, spreading his precome over his sizeable length, squeezing him hard when his stubble brushed over her nipples just right. She was going to have a rug burn from his facial hair tomorrow, too, but she’d take it all. Anything she could get as mementos of this occasion would be good enough for her.

Suddenly, Negan pushed her down flat on the pool table, sending the balls scattering with their noisy clacks. He stood up straight, hooking his fingers around her panties and tugging them the rest of the way down her legs to where her jeans were. Her sex was exposed and he took a moment to take it in. “Fucking beautiful,” he purred, stroking his fingers over it, pushing her thighs further apart for him. “Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to taste this pretty pussy. But not to-fucking-day.” Spreading her lips, Negan tapped at her clit. “Ready for my dick, baby?”

“Yesss,” Destiny hissed, arching her back. All previous shyness had officially gone out the window, and Negan couldn’t say he disliked this wanton side of her. “Fuck me hard, Negan, so hard.”

Lightly, he spanked her clit and Destiny jumped and yelped. It hurt, but any touch on her clit also felt so good. She wanted him to do it again to just touch her damn it. “No, no, Destiny, baby. What’s my name when I’m fucking driving my fucking dick into you?”

“Daddy,” she whimpered and then repeated louder, “Daddy, please. Fuck me.”

Using the hand that spanked her, Negan cupped her cheek. The wetness - her own wetness - had a strong, musky smell, but she didn’t care. Destiny had no propriety left. “You’ve been such a fucking good for me today, Destiny. I like that, fuck yeah, I fucking do. And I’m a big fucking believer in rewarding good behavior.” He trailed his sticky fingers over her lips, dancing around her piercing. Instinctively, she licked, tasting her own salty essence. She couldn’t look away from Negan’s playful, lusty stare. She was aching. She wanted him - wanted it. Couldn’t he see how much she wanted it? “I’ll fuck you hard, Destiny, but you have to keep it down for Daddy or I’ll fucking stop and you’ll have to just suck it up, butter-fucking-cup. Okay, baby?”

Nodding, Destiny resisted the urge to keen. “O-okay, Daddy,” she stuttered, batting her eyelashes at him from behind her glasses. “I’ll be so good for you.”

“Fuck yeah, you will.” He dragged his hands down her body, grinding the heel of his palm into her clit and watching her squirm, going red faced to hold in her screams. “You’re definitely a fucking keeper, Destiny.”

Stepping up to the pool table, Negan’s jutting cock rutted up and down her slit, lubricating himself further and teasing them both. His hands came up and grasped her neck on either side, not quite choking yet but just adding the pressure. Destiny’s hands came up and grasped his wrists. She wasn’t scared, but adrenaline coursed through her, amplifying every sensation. Destiny had never done this before, but she wanted it, too. How did he know everything she wanted?

Negan lined himself up - just like he had lined the pool cue earlier when he took his first shot. When he slid home, all the way until he bottomed up, his pelvis flush against the cradle of her thighs, they both groaned. He paused, and didn’t move until Destiny made eye-contact again. With a wicked grin, Negan murmured, “Perfecto.”

And Destiny didn’t have time to do or say anything before he was pounding into her. It was so hard to keep quiet when all she wanted to do was shriek how much she loved his cock, and how good it felt inside of her. He was so hard, and he felt huge. Negan was stretching her out and it burned, but she loved the heat, the fire that built in her belly. She was close and he was only a few strokes in. It was wild, it was perfect like he said. Her nails dug into his wrists, and he squeezed her harder, but she could still breathe.

Above her he looked magnificent with his jaw clenched tight, the tendons in his neck popping, sweat beginning to collect on his temples. One strand of fine, black hair fell out of place in his eyes, but disheveled as he was, he only looked more beautiful for it. Negan couldn’t stop the steady stream of filth he spewed either.

“Fuck. Fuck yes, Destiny, this pussy is mine. I’m gonna make it be fucking made for my dick. I’m gonna pound it into you. Only I will make you come, and fuck, it’s gonna be, messy girl. You’re gonna have to fucking sit in your juices and my come in the trucks - and you’re not allowed to change your fucking panties when we get back. Oh no, baby. You’re gonna go straight to my room and wait for me there like a fucking good girl so I can fuck this sweet pussy again. I’m gonna fucking lick your pussy clean if you’re a goddamn good girl for me. Fuck yeah, Destiny, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Hooking her ankles around Negan’s waist, Destiny didn’t dare try to speak. She wasn’t even sure if she could form any words, he was literally fucking her brains out. Destiny was afraid that if she did try to speak all that would come out was a high pitched scream that would summon every walker for miles. Instead, she deliberately clenched her walls around him, fucking him back as much as she could with her limited mobility. The force of his thrusts moved her body against the green felt, and it was leaving a rug burn on her rear. It stung so good, almost as nice as his hard dick. This, this was perfection.

There was a sudden intensity - even more so than before - in Negan’s thrusts that signalled his approaching climax. He brought his hand down and ruthlessly mashed his thumb into her clit, rubbing tight circles as he traded force for speed. “You gonna fucking come for me, Destiny? Gonna come for Daddy when I fucking tell you to like a good girl does? Just for Daddy?”

Destiny’s eyes rolled wildly, and she moaned, “Yes, yes, Daddy. I’m gonna come, I’m so close. Let me come, please let me come. Please, Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby, fucking come.” He switched the movement of his thumb on her clit, brushing back and forth like he was trying to light a match. The change was instantaneous, and Destiny’s walls tightened around him as she started to come. He had lit that match and it flared throughout her until it lit every nerve ending white hot. She stiffened and then was overcome with shakes, thighs quivering from where she was hugging his hips, head thumping back against the hard pool table. “That’s it, that’s fucking it. Come with me,” Negan grunted, and he came, bathing her walls in evidence of his own climax. Destiny felt the overabundance of wetness and basked in it. She liked it rough, she liked it dirty; and Negan delivered on all of that.

They both took a moment to catch their breath, trying to calm down their racing hearts. Like a gentleman, Negan helped her stand and situate her clothing again. Other than the wetness between her legs that was seeping out the longer she stood there, there was no signs of her getting fucked. He even took the time to smooth down her hair again as he pressed an appreciative, sweet kiss to her forehead, inhaling the scent of her sweat and shampoo. He pulled his own clothes back into place, slicking back his hair easily, and Destiny eyed him hungrily, already eager for a second round.

Negan caught her look at smiled wide, back to his boyish charm from before. “You were fucking fantastic, Destiny.”

Blushing, not quite knowing how to respond to that, Destiny’s shyness returned in full force. “Thanks, you, uh, weren’t so bad yourself.”

“Only not bad, huh? I’ll have to fucking work on that,” Negan promised with a wink. He looked behind her at the pool table, and then laughed.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“We definitely left our fucking mark on this bad boy,” Negan chuckled, tapping fondly at the sudden new stain on the green felt.

She blushed even redder if that were possible, and turned away. “I’m sorry, Negan.”

“Don’t be, baby,” he said lightly, “and don’t be like that. We’re still taking it with us. This bad boy is a lot of fucking fun, don’t you agree?”

Daring to look back at the spot they left, Destiny let herself bask in the memories. Then she looked at Negan and smiled. “You’re goddamn right.”

After one last heated kiss, Negan called in his men to move the pool table, and while he directed their movements, Destiny wandered back to the arcade machines to get out of their way. With a wistful sigh, she placed her hand on the joystick of the Donkey Kong machine and gave it a little jostle. It would have been nice if they could have played this together - that was definitely a game she would have won without a shadow of a doubt. But with the game they played on the pool table, at least both of them were winners.

Silent as a cat, Negan came up behind her. “You want to take one of these back home?” He offered, his voice startling her out of her thoughts.

Spinning around, she looked up at him in disbelief. “Really? I mean, the generators have better things to power, and it just seems so selfish.”

“Fuck that, baby,” Negan dismissed. “Consider this a fucking engagement present.”

“You want me to be a wife?”

“Most fucking definitely, Destiny. I think we were just fucking destined to be,” Negan stressed, all sly smiles and dimples and glittering hazel eyes.

This time she couldn’t hold back her groan, “Oh my god.”

“Is that a fucking no?”

“No! I mean, yes! Or…” Giving up, Destiny through her arms around his neck, standing on tiptoe to do so. She didn’t care about the men trying to fit the pool table through the door when she kissed Negan hard with all the gratitude and love she had for him. “Of course, I’ll fucking marry you.”

With another chuckle, Negan said, “Is it vain of me to think you said that because of my influence?”

Rather than argue with him about it, Destiny kissed him again. When they went home, it was with the pool table and the Donkey Kong machine. And rather than riding in Simon’s Jeep, Destiny sat in Negan’s lap all the way home, evidence of the pool match seeping a wet spot into her jeans and on the front of his pants, too.

Back at the Sanctuary, Negan kept all his promises, and while Destiny never did beat him pool because she was too busy blushing over the stain, she did manage to keep the highest score on Donkey Kong - best out of all the wives, the Sanctuary, and Negan, too.

@superprincesspea// @vizhi0n// @ladylorelitany// @genevievedarcygranger @kijilinn// @the-angle-of-depression// @multi-villain-imagines// @notice-me-senpai-sama// @of-dragons-and-dreams// @uniquewerewolfsuit// @lucilepiewhiskey// @i-am-negan-trash// @purplemuse// @jeffreydeanneganstrash// @followmeonelasttime// @world-war-crap// @sherlocks-timetraveling-assbutt// @zombeeegurl// @blondekel77// @deez666// @purplejellybean// @wadeyourebarelyalive// @johnthakerys// @memphisgirl1977// @melodicdolls// @negans-dirty-girl// @beltz2016// @warriorqueen1991// @ryangoslingstanktop// @to-ma-to// @superwholoki

[sinsiriuslyemo]

EPISODE 8

Nevada was working in his office when there was a knock on his door and he called out to the visitor, looking up just as Irish came in.

“Hey’a Trujillo. You wanted a word?”

“Yeah, come on in, close the door,” he replied, closing the books and leaning back in his seat. “I got a job coming up, boosting a painting for Blackwood. Figured you’d want in,” he added.

“Hmmm intriguing,” she admitted. “But I got feds playing peek-a-boo with me, so I'm gonna be laying low.”

“Damn, that’s too bad. I thought maybe I’d finally get to find out what it’d be like to be married to you,” he teased, winking at her.

She smirked, “Oh yeah? Well I hate to break it to you but you'll have to wait a little longer sweetness,” she purred. “How's that sugar sweet wife of yours?”

“She’s good. Misses you,” he replied. “You should give her a call, try to get together.”

“You know I want to but it's hard just to have a taste of the sweetest peach without eating her whole,” she teased and looked at her phone. “Fraid I have to get going handsome, but I'll be in touch when I come back on the market.”

“Sounds good,” he replied, watching her retreating form before he sat back, trying to figure out who he could get for this job.

“Yoo hoo,” you walked into the office and smiled, dropping off lunch on his desk. “I made your favorite.”

“Yoo hoo? What are you, June Cleaver?” he asked with a smirk, not giving you a chance to reply before he asked, “You see Irish? She just left.”

“As if I'd miss a chance to see the love of my life,” you teased softly. You sit on his desk and smiled a bit at him. “How goes business?”

“Fine, I guess, I just gotta find a woman that can pull this job for Blackwood,” he replied, running a hand over his hair. “I wanted Irish pero, the feds are up her ass. So that’s out.”

You laughed, “Irish? She wouldn't have been able to pull a job like that, papi. She has no idea about painting preservation.”

“The fuck does painting preservation have to do with anything?” he asked, arching a brow.

You snorted, “papi what happens when Mary asks how you plan to store the painting? Will you know what temperature to store it at to keep the canvas from aging? Or how to renew the yellowed organic varnish if something happens? Your safety depends on this going well, Nevada, if you send in someone like Irish, they will gun you down,” you looked at him with fearful eyes.

“Or just go with someone else. Don’t think there are too many transporters that know any of that shit,” he replied with a smirk. “How do you even know this shit?”

“Everyone in the art world who moves paintings would know that,” you said seriously. “I minored in art preservation, before I decided to teach general ed, I considered being an art teacher.”

“Not every transporter moves art, mi vida. Most people hire someone else who knows that shit to go with the transporter. We’re criminals, there aren’t categories for us,” he replied with a smirk. “Pero okay, that’s something I’ll keep in mind. How’s your day going?”

“Good,” you smiled. “I've been talking to some people at my old school, they're looking for a teacher,” you said casually.

“Oh yeah? You wanna teach again, that’s great,” he replied, patting his lap.

You smiled and crawled into his lap, snuggling against him as you nodded. “What do you think?” you whispered softly.

“I think if you wanna do it, you should do it,” he answered, rubbing a hand over your back. “Make a few more Eddies for the world.”

You smiled and leaned down, kissing him deeply as you tangled your fingers in his hair. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Mhm. If you wanna do it, do it,” he replied, bobbing a shoulder.

You nodded and rocked your hips a bit as you deepened the kiss, fingers twisting in his hair.

“Jefe,” OJ said as you stepped into the office, smirking at the scene in front of him. “Blackwood just called and it seems Mary is looking to move the painting sooner rather than later. She's put a word out that she's looking for a buyer.”

“So what’re you telling me for? Omar’s on board, tell Chibby and Sawyer to start doing their magic with making sure he’s at the top of her list of buyers,” Nevada replied.

“I called Maddison but Mary knows her face. I'll get them to get Omar on the list right away,” he nodded and then smirked. “Sorry to interrupt your lunch.”

Nevada snorted as OJ closed the door again, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Too bad you’re not an outlaw or I’d ask you to work this job with me,” he mused, sighing. “Bueno, mami, I gotta get to work finding somebody for this. What’s so fucking great about only doing business with women anyway? You guys are never around when we need you,” he teased, playfully patting your ass.

You smirked, “just make sure that your transporter is smart enough to know what kind of gloves to use, I'll give you a hint, latex causes outward damage to a painting,” you whispered and stood up. “Good luck,” you waved with a smirk and moved back towards the door.

“Love you,” he said with a smirk.

By the time Roxie and Rafael made it back to their villa, they were exhausted. Roxie made a face, peeling off her sweat covered clothes and huffing in exhaustion.

“Why don’t we take a bath, and I can order us some dinner? We can eat out on the back porch, listen to the waves, look at the stars,” he suggested, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing below her ear.

“After I call work, we agreed we could check in tonight,” she pointed out as she held up their phones.

“Fine, but then I just wanna be with my wife,” he replied, kissing her cheek and taking his phone from her.

She smiled and moved into the other room to check on things back home while he called you.

“Hey Mrs. Hume,” you teased. “How is the island?”

“First of all, she took my last name-- thank you very much. Secondly, it is gorgeous. We went on a hike over the island, found a waterfall. I honestly don’t know how we’ll ever thank you both,” he replied.

“You don't have to, no one has earned this more than you,” you said seriously. “After everything you've done for me over the years, I wish I had bought you the whole island, but you never would have taken it. So this is a good second.”

“Thank you,” he said softly. “How’s everything going back home? Has Izzy been feeding Mowgli and taking him for walks?” he asked.

“No, not at all, but I have.” You snickered. “She's preoccupied with the wife. Don't worry, I'm taking care of it. How is Roxie? Are you two adventuring?”

“Yeah, we uh...we found a treasure map this morning and followed it,” he replied with a snort. It still felt so strange to say out loud. “We found a stone. Almost looks like an emerald. I don’t know if it’s real, but it was still fun. How’s Eddie doing?”

“I'm sorry did you say you just found a map and treasure like a pirate?” you said in a laugh. “Did you hit your head?”

“No! Honestly! There was a loose floorboard in the villa, Roxie fell through it and we found a map under there. Hang on…” He brought up the camera on his phone and took a photo of both items before he sent it to you. “You should have a picture.”

“What the hell?” You laughed. “That's...very unreal,” you admitted, kind of impressed. “Well congratulations, Jack Sparrow.”

“Thank you. How’s Eddie doing?” he asked again.

“He came home trashed out of his mind this morning,” you sighed. “I don't know what's wrong with him but he's out of control.”

Rafael frowned. “Go easy on him, okay?” he said gently.

“He hasn't been showing up for his internship, at the wedding one night I heard him just...crying from his room. I don't know what's happening. He won't let anyone in and I'm really scared.”

“He told me what was going on, and I can’t do anything from here, but as soon as I get back, I’m gonna do everything I can. Just take care of him for now, okay? He needs his family,” he replied.

“He told you?” you whispered and you sounded a little hurt that Eddie would tell Rafael over you or Nevada. But you understood in a way. “Just tell me...is my baby gonna be okay?” you whispered as you felt tears well up in your eyes. “Is it something we can fight through with him? Or am I going to lose him? I can't lose him Rafi, he's my boy.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Rafael replied. “He didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

You nodded and sniffled a bit, “okay,” you whispered softly. “Thank you Rafi, I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he replied. “Well, I just wanted to check on everything. Please keep taking care of Mowgli till we get back,” he pleaded.

“I'm not gonna let your pig die,” you smiled a bit. “Enjoy this vacation, I love you.”

“Love you too,” he replied, hanging up.

Moving to the phone in the galley, he ordered them some dinner, asking for it to be left in the galley for them. His next stop was the bathroom to start drawing them a bath, checking the water to be sure it was hot enough.

When Roxie came back in, she looked irritated, sighing and leaning her head against his chest.

“Everything okay at the bakery?” he asked, rubbing over her back.

“It is and it isn't, there's rarely a slow day when you run a business,” she smiled and kissed him. “But it can be handled until I'm back to fix things.”

“What’s wrong?”  

“Just some paychecks weren't signed on time so we have to pay a penalty. Plus a few people worked overtime by an extra twenty hours.”

“I’m sorry, mi amor,” he said softly. “I ordered us some dinner. Lobster with grilled asparagus, shrimp cocktails and a bottle of merlot,” he whispered, kissing her jaw. “And I have a hot bath ready for us. Hopefully all that will take your mind off work.”

“That sounds like just the recipe for a perfect night,” she whispered with a smile.

You held a finger up to your lips when Nevada came home, signaling that the kids had fallen asleep. He nodded shortly, taking off his jacket and hanging it up before he walked up to you and kissed your lips.

“Dinner ready yet?” he asked.

You kissed back and smiled, “on the table,” you followed him to the kitchen and smiled. “How goes the hunt?” you asked as you walked around the kitchen, cleaning up plates and silverware.

“Shitty, pero I’ve been thinking,” he replied. “I’m pretty sure this might be a bad idea because she has a terrible poker face and can’t keep a secret for shit, pero...I think I know who the right person for the job is,” he said, digging into his food.

You snickered, “well you aren't selling her very well, she sounds like a una boba.”

He smirked a little, decided to have a little more fun before he clarified. “Yeah, pero she’s an amazing piece of ass,” he replied, eating some more of his food. “Tastes good too.”

Your eyes narrowed and you looked at him curiously. “You don't have any mamacitas that you trust,” you stated as a matter of fact.

“Oh this one I trust with my life,” he answered. “Y coño if she doesn’t suck some good cock. Gets me hard just thinking about it.”

You growled, “coño, why haven't I met her if she's that great?” you snapped.

“It’s you, boba,” he said in a chuckle.

You stopped for a moment, “como que ‘me?’ Do I look like Scarface to you?”

“Mira, you’re the only broad I know that knows about all that art preserving shit that I also trust,” he replied.

You smiled a bit, “Me? Papi, that's a lot of faith in me…”

“I mean, shit, chica you gave me three healthy kids and you know your shit,” he answered. “But we gotta work on your poker face, cause those kids ain’t grown yet. They still need you around. Don’t worry, I’ll be right there with you.”

You looked hesitant, biting on your bottom lip as you thought about it.

“If you don’t want to, then I’m gonna have to dress up OJ like a woman,” he said, looking up at you.

You laughed and smiled, finally nodding. “If you think it's okay, I'm in,” you whispered and took his hand. It was clear you were nervous, but you trusted him.

“Okay,” he replied, pulling you into his lap. “You sure?” he asked. “You can say no if you want.”

You nodded, “I trust you, if you think it's okay, then I believe you. You're a good jefe. Whether I want you to be or not,” you teased.

He smirked at you, and nodded. “We gotta get you set up with a will, okay?”

Your brows raised in terror, “really?!”

“Yeah,” he said. “Relax, it’s just insurance for the kids. I’ve had one for years, had your brother draw it up,” he added.

You frowned, though you knew it was the smart thing to do. You nodded and looked down at your hands, leaning your head against his shoulder. You didn't like thinking about a day without Nevada. Though you knew his work could catch up with him at any moment. That that terrified you.

It broke your heart and left you feeling like all the good you did would be for nothing if you couldn't protect the man you loved. So you pushed the thought down. He was here, he was fine. The future was uncertain for everyone, not just you.

“Mira, look at it this way: you could walk outside tomorrow and get hit by a bus, you should make sure the kids are taken care of anyway,” he said softly. “And you’re not going alone. A group of us are going, and you know I’d die before I let anything happen to my queen.”

That comforted you completely as you nodded, leaning your face against his neck and pressing warm kisses to it. You nuzzled up against him, rubbing against him like a cat as you hummed contently.

“My little kitten coming out to play?” he asked with a smirk.

You shivered a bit, looking up at him with needy eyes. “Yes daddy,” you mumbled against him.

“Bueno, I’m eating, so maybe she could finish doing the dishes, then we can go upstairs and I’ll pet her till she starts to purr,” he replied.

You pouted but moved out of his lap and back to the dishes, you had to finish them anyway. When you finished drying and putting them away, you moved to the bedroom and settled in on the bed.

Nevada came in a couple minutes after you did, moving to take off his clothes and climbed into bed beside you. Moving closer, he enveloped you in a spoon, pulling you back against him.

“It’ll be fine,” he said softly.

You relaxed against his touch, sighing and letting out a whimper as you nodded, nuzzling close.

After their bath, Rafael and Roxie sat out of the back porch, eating their luxurious meal and making conversation. Afterward, they sat in the living room on the couch, him giving her a foot massage.

She smiled at him, “is this what married life is like then? Foot massages, expensive islands and glamorous meals?”

“Foot massages any time, islands and gourmet meals not so much,” he replied. “We’re comfortable, we’re not that comfortable. But we can take more trips like this every once in awhile. Maybe once a year?”

She smiled, “sure, if the bakery expands more, we can probably get more of this kind of comfortable,” she smiled warmly.

“I don’t care about having this kind of comfort. All I ever need is you, mi amor. Besides, I don’t need or want to live a wealthy lifestyle. I’d much rather we be wise with our money.”

She giggled and nodded, “well I'm happy with any lifestyle with you. I love you. But we should talk about money eventually, settling things for kids, college funds, who to leave the business to,” she said thoughtfully.

“Well, we have to have kids first to do all that. We should also put some aside for whenever we retire,” he replied.

She nodded in agreement, stroking her fingers over his jaw. “Yes, definitely.”

Setting her foot down, he moved to lay on top of her, resting his head against her chest and snuggling her close.

“I’m so happy,” he said, kissing the corner of her jaw.

She smiled and closed her eyes, “so am I,” she whispered with a grin. “Do you think we'll be good parents?”

She'd thought a lot about it before but now that she was married, now it felt more obtainable. Where as it was once a distance fantasy, now it was real possibility.

“I think so,” he answered. “I know you’ll definitely be an amazing mother.”

She smiled and traced her fingers over his skin. “I think you'll be an amazing father. I have these little daydreams,” she mused. “In them, you're brushing our daughter’s hair, telling her all about what you did at work while our son plays with toys and I make dinner. Our little girl wants to be a lawyer, smart and Harvard educated like her papi. Our son doesn't know what he wants to be, he likes to cook like me but he has so many talents it's hard to narrow things down. So he just tells people race car driver for now,” she laughed against his skin.

He smiled at the image she’d painted, nuzzling further against her. “I sometimes just think about what you’ll look like pregnant,” he admitted. “What it might be like to feel the baby kick. What kind of food cravings you’ll have. Things like that...but your picture sounds really great too.”

She quirked a brow, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under her shirt, pointing to it. “There you go,” she teased. “This is a pretty accurate depiction.”

“No, that’s not the same,” he replied, pulling the pillow out from under her shirt and kissing her bare stomach. “It’s just something I’ll have to wait for, but it’ll be worth the wait.” Laying his head against her shoulder again, he sighed softly. “Wanna go to bed?”

She nodded, “yes, I most certainly do, Mr. Barba,” she giggled and stood up, sauntering to the bedroom and inviting him in with a crook of her finger.

“Why do I have the dumbest fucking pendejo persona?” Omar quirked a brow as he waved the papers Chibby had delivered while he sat at your kitchen table.

“Language,” you chastised and nodded to the baby he had over for a play date.

“She doesn’t understand anything yet,” he replied.

“She will if you keep that shit up. Nevada will be here any minute and you can explain.” you sighed. “Gimme the baby.”

He handed her over as she cooed and babbled at you. At almost six months she was getting huge. Her hair was almost down to her chin in curly blonde locks now.

“Hi there sweetie,” you smiled and kissed her. “So beautiful.” .”

There was a knock at the door, and you went to answer it, smiling up at Miles and Lola.

“Hi, are we early?” Lola asked as you let them inside.

“Nah, come on in, I made everyone snacks for the big meeting!” you chirped and Omar snorted a laugh.

“Oh and who is this cutie pie?” Lola smiled and picked up the baby from your arms. “Miles she's a cutie! Let's get one too,” Lola cooed in amusement as she examined the baby like product merchandise.

“Fallon. Her mother had a really important date,” Omar chimed from the kitchen table. “So I had to bring her with.”

“She's beautiful, Miles,” she whined a bit and Miles chuckled.

“Baby if you want one, we'll get you as many diapered monsters as you want.”

“Good luck with that,” Omar mumbled as Jose and Nevada came in through the still opened door.

“Oye, we got about fifty to life in this place. Don’t leave the door open-- what the fuck is Fallon doing here?” Nevada asked.

“Amber’s out with Troy, mami had her spin class,” Omar replied.

“It's fine, she wants to participate,” Lola cooed and nuzzled the baby. “Raise her right and she could be a killing machine at twelve,” Lola smiled at the idea. “I wish I had started that young.”

You cringed a bit, making sure to hide it.

“Not happening,” Omar mumbled from the kitchen table. “God help your diapered monsters,” he added under his breath.

“Dama, call someone to come get her. We got business,” Nevada mumbled.

“Oye, we know the same people, who do you want me to call?” You frowned and thought it over before picking up the baby and kissing her. “How about I call mommy and see if she can leave her meeting?”

Fallon wiggled until you sat her up on the table so she could crawl around a bit, with the supervision of Omar while you called for someone.

Amber arrived thirty minutes later. She'd clearly rushed to get there, offering a smile. “Sorry,” she hugged and picked up the baby who was now chewing on Omar's finger.

“How was your date?” Omar asked, handing her Fallon.

“It wasn't a date,” Amber said with a platonic kiss to Omar's cheek. “I asked Troy to come with me to the cover shoot for the book cover,” she made a face. “You know I hate those.” She held Fallon out to Omar and smiled. “Give papi kisses buh-bye?”

Fallon puckered her baby lips out mirroring Amber's actions.

“I thought you were writing a fiction series,” he said, kissing Fallon’s cheek.

“Just the author part of the cover,” she clarified and smiled as she nuzzled Fallon. “Are you still coming over tonight for dinner and a play date?” You smirked and quirked an eyebrow as Amber rolled her eyes. “Kid. We have a kid.”

“Probably not, we got a lot shit to do here, and I’m getting on a plane in the morning,” he replied. “But I’ll try to stop by.”

“Oye, we don’t got all day, blanca,” Nevada called out from the other room.

“I’ll call you when we get back,” Omar said.

She nodded and gave you a hug before heading out.

“Okay so who wants snacks? I made buttermilk biscuits and pigs in a blanket for the kids but since they're at Mami’s we can have them while we brainstorm!”

Miles smirked and looked you over with a chuckle. “You got yourself a special one, Trujillo. Don't see many of her kind in our world.”

“That’s cause she ain’t in our world,” Nevada replied, smirking softly as he rolled his eyes. “Okay, Omar is heading out tomorrow to touch base with this bitch. We gotta wait for his call to get the ball rolling. Dama sit down, baby,” he said, patting the seat beside him. “So after we get his call, we head out. Sawyer’s working on finding us a place to set up shop. I’m pretty sure she’ll ask us to do a test run, so you guys will hold up headquarters till it’s time for the real deal. We need someone on intel besides Sawyer still, OJ said he was making a few calls.”

“What about cupcake?” Lola asked with a quirked brow and a sweet nod to you. “Not for nothing, sugar, but you look more like a fed than a transporter.””

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it,” Nevada replied.

“Because you know so much about dressing women for battle?” She giggled and sat up straight. “Alright then, well we know a guy out in Nevada, he can commute if you want an extra techie.”

“No, we got it covered. I got two of the best in the country, we only need one. Besides, I don’t know this guy out in Nevada, and no offense, but I don’t know you guys that well either,” Nevada replied with a smirk.

She shrugged casually, “your show,” she said and waved a dismissive hand.

You looked over at Omar, studying his face instead of focusing on the meeting. Omar had a nice face, you had always found him handsome. You counted his freckles, then ran your eyes over his facial hair.

“Like a porcupine,” you mumbled softly to yourself..

“The fuck is wrong with you? I’m not a chia pet,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oye, are you paying attention?” Nevada asked, nudging you with his elbow.

“Yeah definitely,” you nodded and turned your attention to him. “So what now?”

Miles and Lola both nodded, waiting for Nevada's answer.

“We leave tomorrow, Omar will touch base with this chick, and you and I get you some new clothes,” he answered just as there was a knock on the door. “Jose, por favor.”

Jose nodded, opening the door and letting Josiah in. Nevada’s face fell.

“What are you doing here?”

“OJ called, told me you needed an intel man,” Josiah replied. “That’s me, jefe.”

“No,” Nevada said, getting up and moving into the kitchen.

You stood as well, moving to Josiah and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Good to see you,” you said warmly. “Have a seat and I'm gonna go talk with my husband.”

You moved into the other room and put your arms around him, saying nothing, just pressing your face against his back.

“He’s not coming with us,” Nevada muttered stubbornly.

“This is your call,” you said as you rubbed soothing circles onto his back and kissed his skin. “I didn't come in here to change your mind, I came in because my husband needed me.”

“I don’t need anything,” he replied. “I don’t want him there, I don’t trust him.”

“Has he done anything while you were partners with him to earn your distrust?” you asked softly. “From a business standpoint?”

He was silent for a moment, sighing heavily. “No.”

You just kept rubbing his back, nodding as you waited for him to think.

Clenching his jaw, he clicked his teeth. “Goddamn it, Y/N,” he muttered, turning to walk back into the living room.

You poured a glass of scotch, setting it in front of your husband as you returned to the living room before seating yourself.

“So I’m in?” Josiah was saying.

“Yeah, you’re in,” Nevada replied reluctantly. “I’m gonna want you and Sawyer on intel. We gotta know everything about this bitch and everything about the painting we can.”

“And we just wait eagerly by our phones then?” Lola mused as she examined her nails.

“Are you not paying attention either? I just said we leave tomorrow,” Nevada replied, arching a brow.

“Hey,” Miles said sternly. “I don't talk to your woman like that, do mine the same respect.” He wasn't saying it aggressively, just a respectful warning.

“Not everybody likes to repeat themselves,” Omar mused softly.

“I don't like your attitude, friend,” Miles narrowed his eyes.

“I got no attitude, I’m just pointing something out, and you’re outta your circle,” Omar answered.

“Enough,” you said to everyone in the room, shooting them all a look. “This is going to fold in on itself before it even starts, we all need to work as a team. That means no attitude,” you shoot Omar a glare, “no impatience,” you move your glare to Nevada, “and no questioning the team leader.” You finally moved your gaze to Miles.

Nevada glanced at Jose, a silent signal, who gave his jefe a subtly nod before replying, “Should’a added actually listening when people talk.”

Smirking softly, Nevada waited to hear how you would respond, eyes moving to give you a barely noticeable sideways glance.

You pushed back our chair and stood up. “I'm not risking my ass for people acting like children,” you hissed and moved upstairs.

“Well that was a bit of a bunk,” Miles mused.

“She did well up until the end there,” Lola added. “We do okay?” she asked Nevada.

“Yeah, you guys were perfect. I’ll be right back. Mira, your new ID’s are right there, you can look em over till I come back,” Nevada answered, standing and moving upstairs to where you were.

Decided to wait until you wanted to talk, he leaned up against the wall beside you.

You buried your face in your hands, sniffling before looking up at him and hurling a stiletto heel directly at him. He ducked to the side, the heel narrowly missing his head as he arched a brow.

“You good now?”

You glared and hurled the other heel next, and again he ducked to one side, unfazed.

“You let me know when you’re done.”

You threw a few pillows, a jewelry box and the alarm clock before finally laying back on the bed silently to let him know you were done.

“You’re gonna have to figure out how to keep your temper in check between now and when we land in Cali,” he said softly.

“You think I'd still participate in that shit show?” You scoffed and stood up, getting in his face. “I don't appreciate being tested,” you hissed.

“We had to, oye you can't act when we get there, you gotta be the H-B-C, me entiendes? Or she’s gonna see right through you,” he replied.

You knew he was right but you still felt a slight thing of hurt. “It made me feel like you don't trust me,” you whispered. You'd been trying to make an effort to stop and explain your feelings rather than just expect him to be a mind reader.

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s what I do with all my guys when they move up. They get tested, that’s how I figure out if they’re really ready,” he replied. “It’s not about trust, and it’s definitely not personal. Business is business. There’s no love in this life, Dama.”

You nodded, feeling a bit better that that he'd truly listened to how you felt about this and offered his perspective and explanation.

“You did good at first; took control, put everybody in their place...you just gotta believe you’re the jefe. You can’t be looking to me if you get stuck. This is your show as far as that puta’s concerned,” he said, moving over to lay behind you, placing a hand on your hip. “Me entiendes?”

You nodded, “si,” you whispered and turned to look up at him.

“You got this, mami,” he said softly. “We’re gonna go shopping later,” he added, winking at you. “Vamos, let’s go finish up.”

You smiled a bit and nodded, coming back downstairs with him and sitting again.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Finding Out Dean Is Allergic To Cats

Characters: Reader, Dean, Sam, John

Word Count: 1,573

Warnings: this is just fluffy

Author’s Note: In this, the reader and Dean are 9 years old and Sam is 5 years old. Thank you for @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes for this idea! Go follow her because she’s amazing! If you ever have any ideas that you would want to see before the first episode, don’t be shy. I love writing about the series and making the reader’s character stronger.

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

.

John and Dean. Back at it again with the arguing. You’ve heard of kids fighting with their parents at age 9 but they are usually over things like “who ate the dessert?” or “why didn’t you go riding without a helmet?” or even “why didn’t you do your chores before homework?”.

No, with Dean and John, they were a completely different story. These two argued all the time but it isn’t over spilled milk. They would argue about things like “where was the guns I needed?”, “you don’t kill a vampire by a stake, you cut off their head.”, “Shoot like a man, Dean. You need to get this right or you will be killed.”.

It was things like that, that made this family weird enough as it was. Sammy was too young to know about any of this stuff and you were too far gone inside your own mind to care about any of it. Your mother died a year ago and you were still in pain from when you first saw her die.

You had a ton of questions and of course, you go to John for them but he could only answer so many before he broke down. You tried to assure him that he would do just fine without Mary but he wouldn’t listen to you and went straight for the alcohol to drown his sorrows.

You honestly felt bad for the man. He lost his wife and in a way, he lost himself. He lost his kids and you didn’t know what he would do to find himself again. You didn’t know Mary at all but you wished you would have. From what you gathered, she seemed like a lovely woman. Too bad a demon had to take her away just like they had to take your mom away.

You wondered where you went after you died and if you did believe in God, then you must believe in Heaven and if you believe in Heaven, then you must believe in Hell. You just hoped your mom wasn’t rotting in Hell. She was a good woman and you would give nothing to see her again or talk to her again.

But enough about you. This story isn’t about you. It’s about Dean and it all started with Sam who was more curiouser than Alice.

“Dean, I have told you this, a million times. You have to get this right or you can’t come hunting with me. You have to know the rules and if you don’t follow them, you will get killed. Do I make myself clear?” John said, being hard on Dean like he always was. You hated how rough he was with his boys. He was only 9 for crying out loud. John didn’t really act this way with you but then again, he never had a girl to take care of before.

“I’m sorry, dad. I will get it right this time.” Dean apologized, fearing he had let his dad down again. He hated letting other people down.

“It’s okay, son, let’s just try it one more time.” John said, getting the guns ready for use. Sammy hated it when his family fought. He was old enough to know that it wasn’t just about nothing. No, this was about something but they wouldn’t never tell him what it was.

You always tried to distract Sam when Dean and John were fighting but you were in the shower so Sammy needed to try something else to block out the fighting. He got on his feet and walked to the door, opening it and quietly slipping outside. He left it just a crack open so he would get back inside.

Dean and John didn’t seem to notice where Sammy was. Sam looked at the parking lot filled with cars and he went exploring, looking underneath the cars to see if he could find any treasure that he could take.

Of course, all he found was trash, maybe a few sticks and leaves but nothing worth saving. He sighed and got up, making his way to another car. He got on his knees and peered under, only to be greeted by a scared cat, meowing for its life.

He grinned and reached his hand out, wanting to pet the cat.

“Kitty… Come here. I won’t hurt you.” Sam said, looking into his eyes. The cat, seeming to trust the young boy, crawled slowly to Sam and once Sam could reach, he started petting his head, scratching behind his ears. The car purred, inching closer to Sam and in no time, the cat was in Sam’s lap, loving the feel of Sam’s tiny hands on his head.

“Good kitty. My name is Sam. What’s yours?” Sam asked, expecting an answer from the cat. The cat answered, just not in the way Sam expected. The cat lifted his chin and Sam spotted a collar. He looked at it, reading his name on it.

“Gabby. Oh, you’re a girl cat. It’s okay. I can take you home.” Sam picked up the cat and got on his feet, walking back to the motel room. Sam and Dean were still fighting like always and Sam shut the door quietly, sitting on the floor as the cat stayed in his lap.

“Dad, come on, I’ve done this a hundred times. Please, let’s take a break. You look exhausted.” Dean said, sighing. You had gotten out of the shower and was reading on the bed. After your mom’s death, you had become a little more on the distant side, only talking when spoken to and kept to yourself often. It was easier that way.

“One more time.” John said, looking at his son. Dean sighed and nodded, taking the gun apart. He suddenly sneezed and frowned, not thinking much of it. He started to put the gun back together but stopped when he sneezed again.

“Son, are you alright?” John asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” Dean said, going back to what he was doing. He sneezed again and you looked up from your book, your eyes landing on Sam and his new friend.

“He’s allergic to the cat.” You said, going back to your book. It was so not like you to not talk and the thought of you changing into a complete stranger was one of your worst fears. But it was coming true because when you spoke, you didn’t recognize the voice that came out of your mouth.

“Cat? What cat?” John said confused, looking around the room. His eyed landed on Sam and Sam grinned at his dad, petting the cat.

“Look, daddy, I found a cat! Can we keep her?” Sam asked, hugging the small animal.

“I’m allergic to that thing. Get it away!” Dean said, sneezing more. You didn’t’ know how bad Dean was allergic but if he was, that cat was going to have to leave.

“Sammy, where did you find her?” John asked, getting on his knees so that Sam could look at him better.

“Outside, under a car. I think she doesn’t have a home.” Sam said, showing his dad the collar.

“Son, an animal with a collar means they do have a home. They are just lost. Let me call the owners. Y/N, honey, would you please take Dean into the bathroom until the owners get here?” John asked, going over to the motel’s phone and started dialing.

You got up and took Dean’s hand, walking with him into the bathroom.

“I don’t know why I have to be in the bathroom. The cat should be the one to go.” Dean grumbled out, getting some tissues. You didn’t say a word as you sat on the end of the bathtub.

“You’re still not talking?” Dean asked, throwing the tissues away and sitting next to you. You didn’t say anything.

“You know, I remember when you first met me. Do you?” Dean looked over at you but continued when you were looking at him. “You were on the swings with your mom and she was talking to my dad. You got off the swing and came right over to me. I wasn’t in the mood to talk since my mom died that same year. But you didn’t give up. You wanted to be my friend and look where we are now.”

You got tears at the memory but you weren’t focused on Dean. You were focused on your mother.

“I miss her so much.” You got tears, putting your head in your hands.

“I know.” Dean said, pulling you into his arms. You put your head on his chest and you cried softly, wishing it could have been you instead of your mom. You didn’t want her to go. She was all you had left.

“What I wouldn’t give to see her face again.” You whispered. Dean was about to say something but he sneezed, pushing you away from him so that he wouldn’t sneeze on you. You frowned and saw the tiny tabby cat walk into the bathroom. Guess Dean forgot to shut it all the way.

“No! Gabby! Dean can’t be around you!” Sam said, running into the bathroom. You smiled a soft smile at Dean trying to get away from the cat and Sam trying to catch her. You didn’t have your mom and that sucked but at least you had Sam and Dean and you wouldn’t want them to go away either.

Series Rewrite tags:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels

Forever tags:

@im-not-an-angel-of-the-lord @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876@innernightwerewolf @wishedworld @justanotherdeangirl @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz

Dean tags:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spn-applepie-imagines @tahbehonest

Other tags:

@notnaturalanahi @27bmm

[creativitytoexplore]

A Book to Live By by M.E. Proctor https://ift.tt/2AfjoEZ In a dystopian future, Jake goes scavenging for food and finds a greater treasure.

Jake walked by the memorial at the foot of the wall every day. He remembered it when it was fresh, when the wreaths were bright and the toys didn't look like escapees from the landfill. It appeared in the early days of the Big Hope surge, when the first babies were taken to the orbiter. The orbiter was a bright beacon of optimism. People looked up as it sailed by shining like a shooting star. The news bulletins claimed the orbiter was the future and everybody believed it. Soon, the stories went, the shuttles would come down and take everybody up there where life would be so much better. It was the Big Hope, all right. From the start, Jake believed it was the Big Bullshit Illusion. The orbiter was too small. Oh, it was a sizable ball of light, and maybe it could hold all the people in town, but it certainly couldn't hold all the people from all the towns everywhere. Even with the wars overseas, the sicknesses brought by the bad air and the foul water, and the crazy weather upheavals, it was still a lot of people. And questionable people too. Jake doubted anybody would want to zap up Rudy Two Fists or Glenda the Mouth, or even Seb, his best friend, who was sweet-natured and could tell jokes that would rip you in two, but was zonked out of his head three quarters of the time. Jake doubted anybody would want a street kid like him on the blasted orbiter. Granted, he could read and write, and make sums well enough to avoid being taken by hustlers, but how could that be sufficient to punch his ticket? Unless hustlers made it to the orbiter too. That would be funny. Maybe the orbiter was just like this crap town. Maybe they had their Rudy who beat up those who stood in his way and even those who didn't, and a Glenda who could do things with her tongue you wouldn't believe. Jake was hungry. It was time to go to Riverdale. There was a house over there, a white cube on top of the hill, with bins that always contained something tasty. The people who lived in that house were tidy. They took the trash out before it started to stink. Maybe they would be good candidates for the orbiter. Getting to the food was risky because of the prowler. Riverdale was wealthy, but not unfathomably rich. The truly loaded lived in locked estates out of town where even the garbage bins had alarm systems. Riverdale was still somewhat reachable. Cautiously reachable. The neighborhood paid for the cop in the prowler. Jake had mapped in his head the dark spots between the light poles, and the location of bushes big enough to hide him. Sometimes the prowler didn't turn its lights on and would sneak up on you. The car engine was very quiet. Not like the vehicles down by the tidal basin where Jake lived, that were sputtering and clanking. He listened. The neighborhood was silent except for the buzz of street lights. The hunger was somewhere down in his stomach, subdued. He knew exactly when his insides would start to hurt. He crawled around a boxwood hedge and looked up. The house was a ghost in the night, a perfect cube. He imagined drawing dots on the sides, like dice. What if it rolled down the hill? Would he score a big six? He perceived a slight variation in the buzzing sound. The damn prowler! He dropped flat on the ground. Suddenly there was a white stream of light and a booming sound. Three sharp shots echoed in the night, followed by a muffled cry. The prey was down. Jake sat on his heels behind the hedge. He didn't feel any sympathy for the fallen scavenger. He was a competitor and the prowler did him a favor tonight. Its work done, the prowler slipped away, bright headlights painting the downhill street. Jake didn't understand why the prowler always went back to base. Why didn't the cop continue the hunt? Where there was one scavenger there could be more. Jake whispered a soft prayer, words to say in the night when danger was avoided. His mother knew appropriate words for every possible event. She learned them from a book that was lost during one of their frequent moves. They moved so many times. This was the longest Jake ever stayed in one place, because, frankly, there was no reason to go anywhere. There never was a reason, but his mother couldn't give up the hope that was always around the next corner. Now she was gone and Jake stayed put. He peeked around the boxwood. The street was empty. No sound except the cicada drone of the lights. The house was protected by a high fence with razor sharp spikes on top. Jake had climbed over it twice, once to get in and once to get out. The spikes gave him such a fright that he puked the dinner he worked so hard to get. He feared that the next time he would be so scared of the spikes he would cut himself to ribbons. So, he found another way in. Under the fence. Digging the hole and figuring out how to conceal it was hard work. Now, all he had to do was wipe off the loose dirt, remove the piece of wood that closed the hole, slip under the fence and push up the wood cover on the other side. He used a cardboard tube pushed through the fence to cover the lid with dirt after each expedition. It was a good trick, efficient. Jake went up the hill to the house. The garbage bins were in the back, near the garage entrance. He made a large circle to avoid the motion-activated lights. He was almost caught once when the garage doors opened and triggered the lights. It was the owner coming back late at night, in a car that was as quiet as the prowler. One of the bins was almost full. Jake pulled on a pair of gloves and unslung his backpack. Sometimes there was barely enough to fill his pockets. This was a night of plenty. Half a loaf of bread, only slightly moldy, a pack of cheese slices fuzzy green along the top, two oranges, soft but still edible, a bruised apple, a box of stale crackers. The other bin was only half full. Jake retrieved two cans of soup and a can of tuna. They were well past their sell-by date but that didn't bother him. And then, wonderful surprise, half a pizza! Still in the box! Still smelling like heaven! It awoke his hunger, with a vengeance. He folded the box. It barely fit in the backpack. On the other side of the fence, behind the boxwood, Jack ate two slices of bread and one of the oranges. Being so close to the food, with the smell of pizza filling the air, the hunger was unbearable. His fingers hovered over the pizza box but he resisted. He would savor that at home, safe behind locked doors. He went down the street, using the same precautions as before, from one patch of shadow to the next, behind the bushes. He bumped into something. It was the wheel of a bicycle. Nobody left such a prize possession in the open. It couldn't have been there long. Jake guessed it belonged to the prey bagged by the prowler. The cop must not have seen the bike or he would have taken it. It was a good bike, solid and heavy. A small cargo trailer was attached to the rear wheel. Jake hesitated. He would be a big target on this thing. On the other hand, he couldn't pass on the opportunity. He didn't have to keep it; he could sell it. Sam Robichaux would pay good money for it. Jake pulled the bike out of its hiding place. He quickly found his balance and his feet rested on the pedals naturally. The owner of the bike must have been as tall as he was. He went down the steep street cautiously at first, then gained speed. It was exhilarating. The air was as smoky, thick and funky as usual, but when it hit his face it felt almost fresh. He wanted to whoop in joy. He negotiated the sharp turn at the bottom of the hill deftly and slowed down as he approached the dangerous crossing with the highway. Trucks barreled down that road and they didn't stop for anything. Jake was about to pedal across when a black shape emerged from the night. It was a van, no lights, silent, followed by two long dark cars. An official convoy. Probably bound for the spaceport north of town. The wind of the cars' swift passage ruffled Jake's hair. The gigantic flash of light came first, then a thunderous blast. The force of the explosion swept Jake, the bike and the trailer into a ditch. The filthy trench saved his life when a tornado of debris blew over him. He scrambled up the side of the ditch. The convoy vehicles were burning. Jake pulled the bike and the trailer out of the ditch. Dirty but otherwise okay. It was a terrible idea but he wanted to see what was left of the convoy. As he approached the site, he understood what happened. A fuel truck backing out of Don Amato's garage smashed into the convoy's lead vehicle. Boom. Amato's garage, the gas pumps, oil cans, old grease and tire supply were ablaze. There wasn't much left of the fuel truck and two of the convoy's vehicles. One car was on its side, smashed against the pole topped with Amato's broken neon sign. The car windows were blown out. A man's body was hanging out of the windshield. Another man was crushed under the car. All Jake could see were his shoes sticking out. Black, shiny. That would fetch something at market. He surmounted his repugnance and yanked off the shoes. He dropped them in the bike trailer. Better be quick, cops would show up soon, and other scavengers. He riffled through the pockets of the man stuck in the windshield and retrieved a wallet. Money, pictures, an ID card. He gave a brief look at the inside of the car and jumped back, startled. A face streaked with blood stared at him. A girl. "Help me," she said. "I can't move."

Cathy's head was ringing. One of her eyes was glued shut. She couldn't feel anything below the neck. She thought: "Great, my spine is broken. So many years, so much knowledge and now I'm crippled. Ain't that a riot!" Strong arms pulled her out of the car and lifted her. A foul smell surrounded her. "You're badly hurt," a voice said. "I'm taking you to the hospital." No, that won't do! Cathy's body was as inert as a load of wet laundry. "No hospital, no police," she said. "Please." She craned her neck and saw a tall slender silhouette. A kid on a bicycle; she was in a trailer. "Okay," the kid said, "but you're gonna die." He got the bike rolling, Cathy saw a dirty ponytail, lean muscles working under a dirty shirt. That's where the offending smell came from. The ride was fast. Down a road, up another, along streets zigzagging between old buildings, not a light anywhere, all windows blind. Then a smooth curve along the flat expanse of a black beach. Cathy smelled the sea, the rotten cloying stench of seaweed, and from time to time the unexpected aroma of pizza. Pizza? The mouth-watering smell came from a backpack in the trailer. The bicycle went down a gravel driveway. There was a structure ahead. It looked like a shed. The kid carried her out of the trailer and put her down on a mattress that smelled of mothballs. Cathy slept. When she woke up, she saw a glass of water and a slice of pizza on a shred of newspaper next to her pillow. The bicycle and the trailer were in a corner of the shed. The kid was nowhere around. Her right arm was still limp, but the left one was awake. Needles stabbed her cruelly from shoulder to fingers. The pain was good news; it meant her spine wasn't broken. She managed to get to a sitting position. She could move the toes of both feet and that was reassuring even if the shape of her right leg was terribly wrong. Surprisingly there was no pain down there. She drank the water, ate the pizza, and fell asleep again. The kid was in a corner of the shed, cleaning the bike, and speaking in a soft voice when Cathy stirred. Some kind of poem. She stifled a moan. The kid heard her and came running. He had bathed and his clothes were clean. No more foul smell! "You're awake, and you're no longer paralyzed," he said. His voice was pleasant, musical. "I guess you won't die. I'm Jake. Do you need to use the bathroom?" He was very considerate, very polite. "I'm Cathy," she said. "Thank you for getting me out of the car. I think I have a broken leg. I can't get to the bathroom on my own." He put a shoulder under her left arm, grabbed her waist, and carried her to a small cubicle in a corner. He sat her on the toilet. He was gentle for such a big, rangy, rawboned boy. There was a sink, a bar of soap and a ragged towel. He filled the sink and told her to call him if she needed help. Later, Jake cooked soup and the moldy bread made good sandwiches with the cheese. For the first time since she escaped, Cathy filled her stomach. She told Jake she was infinitely grateful and apologized for depleting his supplies. He shrugged in a funny way. "The night was good," he said. "We take it as it comes, right?" He muttered another little poem, something about currents. "Is that a prayer?" Cathy said. "The words are sort of familiar, but the way you say them... Is it your faith?" "I'm not religious," Jake said. "My mother memorized a book. I like the music of the words. I'm saying them when I'm out there, at night, or in here, to keep myself company. It feels good and it reminds me of my mother. Sometimes I sing the words, or I speak them as if I was on a stage. For my own, uh, pleasure? Does that sound stupid?" "Not at all," Cathy said. "Jake? I can't stay here. I'm putting you in danger." He hiked his shoulders as if she'd said the most absurd thing. "The men who died in the cars worked for very powerful people. Once they figure out that I'm not dead, they'll look for me. I have something they want. I escaped, and they want me back." "Escaped?" Jake said. "From where?" She pointed a finger at the ceiling. "The orbiter? You were on the orbiter?" He pushed away from her, slack-jawed. "And you escaped? They say it's paradise up there. Escaped? But you're what? Fifteen, sixteen, like me? They only take babies up there." "I'm much, much older than you," Cathy said. "Like twenty times older." She laughed at the expression on his face. "I'm not crazy, Jake. Or a vampire or something. I have a condition. I age very slowly. That's why I was on the orbiter. Space travel takes a long time, you see. You put young people in a space craft and by the time they get to destination, they're dead. They would have to make babies on the way to have a chance at colonizing anything. A ship filled with people like me, the chances are better." She shrugged. "So they poke me, test me, take samples to try to replicate that thing I have." "They replicate on babies?" Jake said. He looked horrified. "What about that thing where they put you to sleep for the voyage? Is that a crock of shit, like the Big fucking Hope, a lie to keep us all quiet down here believing that one day we could go somewhere else that's clean and healthy?" Cathy laughed. "Hey, I'm just an abnormality! I don't know anything! I just don't want them to work on me anymore. Maybe one day, they would kill me to see how I'm different inside." She told him that she hid aboard a transport bound for the surface, and she was lucky for almost a week. Then she was caught trying to steal food. The cops tagged her and her DNA lit alarm signals. The men in the black cars came and took her. "I can't stay here, Jake. They'll turn the entire town upside down to find me."

Cathy was in no condition to go anywhere. Her arms and hands were working but her legs couldn't support her. She begged Jake to reset the broken bone, an operation that she endured with more fortitude than Jake whose heart was in his throat. He was more effective at rigging a splint, maybe because she was unconscious by then and his hands shook less when he could not see her eyes. Cathy ate like a bird but still the bounty from the Riverdale house didn't last. Jake went out for food and information. He left the bike in the shed and wandered behind the ruins of Don Amato's garage. The site was circled by yellow tape that flapped in the wind. He shot a quick glance at the carcass of the fuel truck. What was left of the other vehicles had been removed. By now, the investigators would know that the girl was still alive. Jake pushed the heat-deformed door of the shed behind Amato's workshop. The smell of smoke and cooked chemicals was strong and he wrapped a bandana over his nose and mouth. His objective was the closet in the back where Amato kept spare tools and replacement parts. Under a mess of tumbled metal sheets and molten electrical wires, he found a treasure throve of screwdrivers, hammers, pliers, and drill bits. He filled his backpack with as much as he could carry. Sam Robichaux was surprised to see him. "I thought you'd been picked up. There's cop activity all over town. What have you got?" The tools were good quality. Sam knew better than ask where they came from. Found, stolen, swapped, it was all the same to him. This was a recycling economy and possession was better than title. They bargained hard. Jake exchanged the tools for four cans of tuna, a sack of stale bread rolls and five apples. Sam added a bag of hard candy. "Bonus," he said. "Don't go break a tooth on these now, y' hear!" Seb was in his usual lair, a cellar by the tidal basin. Jake caught him at the right time. Seb had scored a batch of pills and planned to go through all of them. He had only taken one when Jake crawled into the shelter and he was still coherent. Seb's reckless way of life made him a valuable source of information. He navigated in a dangerous world of dealers and addicts who kept a wary eye on anybody with the power to lock them up. The gossip in town was all about the accident on the freeway. "The cops say it was a bomb," Seb said. Jake didn't have to feign surprise. A bomb? Seb giggled. He tapped the side of his nose in that quaint gesture he copied from old gangster movies. "It's a pretext. They yell terrorism and they barge into houses and shops. It started this afternoon on the east side, and they put up road blocks. Glenda the Mouth says they lost something. Something that was in one of the cars." He stared at Jake, a deep frown creasing his prematurely wrinkled forehead. "You wouldn't know, would you?" Sometimes Seb was freakishly prescient. Luckily for Jake, the pill was starting to kick in. "Jake? Would you mind saying some of these poems of yours that are like songs?" Soon Seb was smiling and drifting, totally absorbed by the colorful tapestry his mind was weaving to accompany Jake's soft voice. Jake pocketed a few pills. Cathy would need them, for the pain.

"My friend says they're searching house to house," Jake said. "We'll leave right away. I'll pack food, supplies and warm clothes. There's a nasty storm coming. That's good for us. Once the weather hits, the cops will have to interrupt the search." He gave her Seb's pills. Jake planned to go west, along the tidal basin. The area was sparsely populated, and there were no roads to speak of, only paths through the sandy dunes. It would be hard and slow and he would have to walk the bike most of the way. They wouldn't be able to cover a lot of ground fast, but it was doubtful they would run into any road blocks. Jake put two gallons of water in the trailer, packed the food in a bucket, gathered candles, a lantern and matches, a screwdriver and a hammer from Amato's locker that he hadn't sold to Sam, and the shoes retrieved from the dead man in the car. He slipped a knife in a sheath on his belt and put the dead man's wallet in a pocket of his windbreaker. They would need the money; they had little to trade. Cathy was on her side in the trailer, the broken leg propped on blankets. The night was quiet, with only a sliver of moon occasionally visible between heavy storm clouds. Jake rummaged among boxes, found a tarp, and used it to cover Cathy. He pedaled the length of the driveway and paused to listen. This was the time of night when even the thieves were asleep. He turned right, away from town, and took a dirt path between two houses. An old man spent the night in that alley, sleeping in a cardboard box. Jake heard the snores from ten yards away. The path was narrow; the trailer cleared the box by an inch. The snores never varied. Jake silently recited words of gratitude from one of his mother's poems. He was happy to breathe in the stench of slimy algae from the tidal basin. He muttered: "We're at the seaside." Cathy didn't answer. The pills were working. Pushing the bike through gravel and river rocks mixed with sand and debris washed ashore by the storms was tough going. "We'll be on hard sand soon," Jake whispered. He was glad he pocketed the drugs; Cathy would have felt every bump. Progress was smoother at the tide line but Jake was soon coated in sweat. When the storm broke, he welcomed the rain. The sun rose in a murky sky, its pale rays filtered by clouds as ragged as a thousand-year-old shroud. They were out of the tidal basin by then and on a long stretch of beach that curved gently north. They could keep going for another couple of hours before having to leave the water's edge to hide in the dunes. Jake remembered seeing a map in Sam Robichaux's shop. There were villages beyond the dunes, in the flatlands, but no major town, and hills further north, then mountains and the great plains, grass for thousands of miles. It would be a miracle if they made it that far. It rained heavily all day and Jake busied himself with the bucket, collecting water. Cathy begged him to hide under the tarp with her. If he sat in a corner, she could fit between his stretched legs, with her back leaning against his chest. It was weirdly intimate. "Will you sing one of your prayers? They remind me of church when I was a little girl. We went to that big cathedral, and the monks were singing, and my heart went up into the tall tower and into the sky, so high, higher than the orbiter." Jake had never seen a cathedral or a monk. They didn't exist anymore, not for at least a hundred years. "When was that?" he said, and his voice caught a little. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know. "I don't remember," Cathy said. "Please, sing." "All days are nights to see till I see thee, and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me," Jake chanted. He liked the cadence, like a circle closing upon itself. He flushed when he realized it was a love poem and it was the first time he thought of Cathy that way. She looked up at him, smiling. "I think I know where that comes from." She threw him another line: "Now is the winter of our discontent," and he completed the verse to her utter delight. "Arrows of outrageous fortune," she said, and he replied with the monologue from the beginning. "If only I knew what it meant," Jake said. "Have you ever heard of William Shakespeare?" Cathy said. "He wrote poems and plays centuries ago. He was famous. Your mother must have owned a book of his works." She chuckled. "There are worse books to live your life by." At sunset, they set off again along the darkened beach. It had stopped raining and the sky was clear, crowded with bright stars. They stopped when the orbiter passed above their heads and waited till it faded over the horizon. It struck Jake as a bad omen as if this unblinking eye could spot them, and he pushed the bike with renewed energy. They rested during the day under a small battered lean-to and Jake rigged a small pole and line. He caught fish. That would make their food supply last longer but he worried about water. He shouldn't have. A monster storm came raging from the north and battered the coast for days. Water for drinking and bathing was no longer an issue. Keeping warm was. They took cover in a pine forest. Progress was easier on the pine needle-strewn floor than on the hard sand, but the trees leaned dangerously and thunderous crashing told of the storm's devastating power. There was no difference between day and night. Hours were uniformly dark. They were down to their last can of tuna when they reached the village, ten small cabins gathered around a large barn. Jake wanted to trade in the hammer for food but the woman who was in charge of the community told him to keep it. He would need it to help repair the barn that was their only strong shelter. The storm was getting close. It was snapping trees as if they were toothpicks. The village needed all the help it could get. The arrangement was agreed with a handshake. Jake and Cathy had found a home.

The weak signal was spotted by a weather drone badly battered by the storm. The device was hovering along the foothills, and was right above the village when it transmitted its crucial information. Analysts aboard the orbiter studied the data. Major cities along the coast were in the direct path of the destructive storm. Authorities on the ground begged for help with evacuations. Thousands had died already and millions were at risk. The powerful AI that parsed the data separated the anomalous signal from the weather information and forwarded it to the appropriate department. It was a coded blip from a security chip. The chip was embedded in the ID card of Agent John McCluskey who had died in a fiery crash three weeks earlier.

The squad surrounded the village at dawn. Nobody heard them coming. Cathy and Jake were having breakfast in the barn when three heavily armed troopers barged in. A young woman in a crisp dark suit was behind them. She didn't carry a gun. "You did surprisingly well, Cathy," the woman said, "surviving weeks on your own. Come with us and nobody will be harmed." Jake stood by the girl, knife in hand. "You found yourself a knight. Cute. Do you know what she is, young man?" Cathy found her voice. "Jake will kill me if I ask him," she said. The woman laughed. It was a clear laughter, not sinister at all. "You're extremely hard to kill, Cathy. What will it take to make you lower that knife, Jake?" "I don't want to leave her, Ma'am," Jake said. The woman shrugged. "The storm will flatten this area in a few hours. What do you say, Cathy? We evacuate the villagers, and your friend Jake of course, if you agree to come home with me." Cathy leaned on the table to get up. She grabbed Jake's arm for support, and looked up at him with weary resignation. "Let's go, kids. The storm is coming," the woman said. "Ma'am?" Jake said. "Do you have books on the orbiter?" The woman frowned, puzzled. "We do, of course. And works of art. Humanity's major achievements, a repository of everything beautiful ever made. You're looking for something in particular?" Jake sheathed his knife. "I want to read everything Shakespeare ever wrote, Ma'am," he said.

[pocket-monsters-precure]

Chapter 9: My Compact is Missing! The Tale of One Bad Buneary!

A week had passed since the last attack, where Asuka had been awakened as a Precure.  With time, the girls began to settle more easily into their new roles, and even started researching the news reports about nega-evolutions and other Precure appearing around the world. 

 “At least we’re not the only ones dealing with the problem,” Kailani sighed in relief, as the group sat on a bench in town one sunny weekend, “Not that any more questions are answered…” 

 “It’s still rather worrisome,” Asuka replied, looking up from feeding a berry to her cyndaquil, “It makes you wonder how many of these Team Dysphoria folks are out there…or if the ones we’ve all encountered have methods of traveling quickly.” 

 “Well, they can already disappear into thin air,” added Naomi. 

 “Which means it’s pretty likely they have some form of fast travel…” Fae concluded, staring down at her ice cream. 

 “Not to worry!” Rotomi’s voice spoke from Fae’s bag, “We’ll have a way to keep up with them soon, I’m sure of it!  With each bit of nega-energy I convert, I can feel myself getting stronger…there must be something I can do!” 

 “Don’t push yourself too hard, Rotomi,” Asuka replied with a smile.  Kailani nodded in agreement, and bit into her sandwich. 

 “At least we have Dr. Pierce on our side, right?” Naomi added, “She’s a scientist, so…” 

 “She’s more of a medical researcher,” Fae replied, “But you’re right.” 

 As the conversation continued, Kailani rose to her feet to throw away some trash, when she heard a clatter.  “Oh!”  She turned to see her Cure Compact had fallen out of her bag and hit the ground. “Oops!” 

 As she reached to grab it, a pair of little brown paws picked it up.  Kailani’s eyes met with those of a little buneary, now holding her compact. 

 “Oh!  Hello, little guy!” Kailani grinned, holding out her hand.  “Thanks for picking that up for me!  Can I have it back, please?” 

 The buneary stared down at the compact, before… 

 “Buneary!” 

 It grabbed the compact by the mouth and took off at a sprint. 

 “H-hey!” Kailani cried, as the others stood up in alarm. 

 “This is very, very bad,” Fae said worriedly.  Kailani stood there in shock for a moment, before sprinting after the buneary.  “H-Hey! Wait, Kailani!” 

 “Get back here!  That's mine!”  Kailani shouted, before tripping and falling face-first on the ground.  Asuka and Naomi went to help her up, while the buneary vanished into the thicket. 

 “This is bad. Without the compact, Kailani can’t become Cure Sunrise,” Asuka muttered with a frown. 

 “Well, we can’t just sit around!  We gotta track down that buneary!” Naomi declared, then looked aside sheepishly. “That little guy was fast; none of us reacted quick enough to stop it…” 

 “I’ve got an idea!” Rotomi suddenly spoke, emerging from Fae’s bag, “Asuka, Fae, Naomi, hold your compacts up to the Cure Dex!” 

 The girls looked at each other curiously, before Fae pulled the Cure Dex out of her bag and Rotomi jumped back in.  When the compacts were placed in front of her (Kailani squirming nervously all the while), Rotomi’s face appeared on the Cure Dex screen. 

 “Okay!  The Cure Compacts all have the same signature!  They radiate power…maybe I can act as a radar inside the Cure Dex!” 

 “Rotomi, that’s brilliant!” Kailani snatched up the Cure Dex.  “Okay, I’ll stay at the front of the group and lead the charge!” 

 “Fae and I will go separately from you guys,” Naomi spoke up, “Just in case the radar doesn’t work out.” 

 “Huh?” Fae looked at her in confusion, but Kailani nodded. 

 “Good idea.  Let’s go!  Asuka, with me!” 

 “Y-yes!”  Asuka hurriedly picked up her cyndaquil and joined Kailani. 

 As the groups split up, Kailani stared intently at the Cure Dex screen. 

 “Head a little to your right!”  Rotomi ordered, as Kailani and Asuka followed her directions.    “Right!  I’m on it!” 

 Asuka and Kailani reached the town square, where they quickly spotted a retreating ball of fur escaping into an alley. 

 “We can corner it!” Asuka declared.  “Cyndaquil!  Ember!” 

 “Quil!” Cyndaquil jumped from her arms as they reached the alley, shooting off little balls of fire, which the buneary dodged repeatedly before bouncing between the walls and jumping over a high chain-link fence. 

 “No fair wall-jumping!” Kailani complained, scrambling to climb the fence herself. 

 “Kailani, wait!  You don’t know what’s on the other---“ 

 Kailani jumped over. 

 “---side.  Keep going!  I’ll catch up!” 

 “No need to tell me!” Kailani’s voice was growing distant.  Asuka picked up Cyndaquil and sighed. 

 “Come on, Cyndaquil…” 

 ======= 

 “Hold on a second,” Naomi spoke up as the pair had stopped at the edge of town.  Fae looked over in confusion. 

 “What is it?  We don’t have much time…” 

 “I want your opinion,” Naomi replied, “It’s about Rotomi.” 

 “What about Rotomi…?” Fae’s expression fell.  Naomi crossed her arms, shifting her weight. 

 “Isn’t it kind of weird? For all intents and purposes, she seems to mostly be a rotom with some fairy-typing.  But suddenly she reveals she can sense some kind of power from the compacts, and she absorbs energy left behind by nega-evolutions and claims to convert it to make her stronger…don’t you think this is highly suspect?” 

 Fae was quietly processing this information.  Then, “Well…I see what you’re saying.” 

 “What if we’re just playing into her hands?  She’s from the same world as those Dysphoria creeps, right?” 

 “…” Fae took a breath.  “If you want my honest opinion…yes, she’s from another world.  But…she doesn’t know what she can and can’t do here.  She’s confused and scared, and she’s not a hundred percent sure who she can trust, Precure or otherwise.  Wouldn’t you hesitate to reveal too much information, too?” 

 Naomi listened intently, then sighed.  “Yeah…I guess you have a point.  But…once we get the compact back, we talk to Rotomi, okay?” 

 “Agreed.” 

 The two shared a nod, then looked up as they saw Kailani break through the brush, scratched up, dirty, and gasping for breath. 

 “It’s to the right!  Keep going, Kailani!” Rotomi cried from the Cure Dex. 

 “I need…a breath…haaaah….” 

 “Kai?  Where’s Asuka?” Naomi asked. 

 “I took the long way,” Asuka said as she approached, returning Cyndaquil to its ball, “Any luck on your end?” 

 “No,” Fae frowned, “But looks like Rotomi’s got a lead.” 

 “Yes, and that lead’s getting farther away!” Rotomi complained.  Suddenly, a new voice spoke. 

 “Girls?” 

 The girls yelped, then turned to see Dr. Pierce staring at them quizzically, holding a carry-out box in one hand. 

 “Oh!  Dr. Pierce!” Rotomi emerged from the Cure Dex.  “You’re just in time!  Have you seen a buneary anywhere, carrying Kailani’s compact?” 

 “A buneary?  Are you girls helping that little boy out?” 

 “Little boy?” Asuka echoed. 

 “Yes, there’s a little boy down at the park calling for his buneary.” 

 The four girls stared at each other, before turning and declaring in unison, “Which way is the park!?” 

 Dr. Pierce flinched, then replied, “The park is to your right; it’s a few minutes’ walk…” 

 “That means the buneary’s headed for the little boy!” Rotomi replied, ‘That has to be it!” 

 As the girls ran off, Dr. Pierce watched, then began to jog after them. 

 ==== 

 “Buneary!” Danny called, “Buneary, where are you?  It’s time to go home!”  He sighed worriedly.  The two had gone treasure hunting, but Buneary had wandered off when Danny stopped to rest. 

 “Buneary!”  The buneary scampered toward him. 

 “There you are!” Danny crouched down, then blinked as he saw the glittering object his companion held out to him.  “Huh?  What did you find?” 

 “Bun!” 

 Danny took it from Buneary, examining it.  “Wow, this is really pretty…but it looks special.  You didn’t take this from someone like last time, did you?  You know the rule; only pick up things that you find on the ground.” 

 Buneary was quiet, then seemed to think about the circumstances when it came upon the compact…well, it had hit the ground, so… 

 “That’s quite a pretty trinket you found,” a voice said.  Danny looked up to see a woman sitting atop the slide. 

 Ataxia’s lips spread into a wide smirk.  “I’ll be taking it, however.” 

 “Huh?  You look a little big for the slide, ma’am…” Danny stared up at her.  “And you might get your dress dirty…” 

 “Don’t you worry about me.” Ataxia stood up, then jumped to the ground.  “Just worry about what will happen to you if you don’t give me that trinket.” 

 “No way!  Buneary found it!  It’s our treasure now!” Danny grew annoyed. 

 “My compact!” Another voice cried.  Danny looked up to see Kailani and the others arriving. 

 “Huh?  This is yours?” Danny looked up, then back at the compact, then at Buneary.  “You took this, didn’t you!?” 

 “Buneary!” Buneary shook its head vigorously. 

 “That Dysphoria creep’s back!” Asuka pointed at Ataxia. 

 “Hmph.  Well, if you’re all here, then no point in wasting my chance to get rid of you.”  Ataxia raised a hand.  “And I get to test out my new toy.” 

 Resting on her wrist appeared to be a keystone bracelet, with a sinister-looking stone set inside it. 

 “Nega-ring, begin nega-evolution!’ She declared. 

 “Bunny!?” Buneary looked around in a panic as a dark circle formed under it, before rising around it and spinning rapidly. 

 “Buneary!” Danny cried out, as Dr. Pierce ran over and pulled him away.  “No!  What’s happening to Buneary!?” 

 In Danny’s struggle, he dropped the compact, which Kailani dove and grabbed just as a large, mutated buneary appeared before them. 

 “NEGA-BUNNY!” 

 “Buneary will be okay!  Come with me!” Dr. Pierce urged, before picking up the child and continuing to run. 

 “Alright, now that that’s settled…” Kailani stood up, as the others pulled out their compacts, and cried out in unison, 

 ”Precure! I! Choose! You!” 

  The four transformed, pointing at Nega-Buneary. 

 “Protectors of humans and pokemon!  Pocket Monsters Precure!” 

 “NEGA!” Nega-Buneary leapt high into the air, seeming to vanish. 

 “Where’d it go?” Sunrise squinted up at the sky. 

 “Heads up!” Starlight shouted as it slammed down beside them, shaking the ground and sending them flying. 

 “That’s enough!” Wish scolded the nega-evolution as she got back up.  She raised her hands. 

 “Precure!” She clapped twice as a ball of pink light formed, and she began jumping from side to side, a pink glow forming beneath her steps. “Wish Whimsy Pop!” 

 She threw the pink light, as it bounced between trees, playground equipment and the ground, striking Nega-Buneary and causing it to stagger back. 

 “I think this calls for some extra helping hands!” Kailani thrust a hand forward as a pokeball appeared.  “Jangmo-o!  Time to lay a beat down on it!” 

 The dragon-type emerged, letting out a battle cry before unleashing a series of headbutts and bites. 

 “NEGAAAAAA!” Nega-Buneary lost its temper, beginning to stomp angrily and knock Jangmo-o away. 

 “That’s it, Nega-Buneary,” Ataxia cackled, “Get angry!  Throw a fit!  Destroy this playground and the Precure along with it!” 

 “How dare you use this poor, innocent buneary as a tool for chaos!” Willow scolded. 

 “Who said it was innocent?” Sunrise muttered. 

 “Sunrise!” 

 “Sorry!” 

 “We just gotta keep wearing it down,” Starlight spoke, summoning Absol as the pair went separate directions, before turning back and attacking from each side.  Nega-Buneary struggled to focus on one target. 

 “There’s our opening!” Willow declared, as she ran toward Nega-Buneary.  “Precure!  Sylvan Breeze Refresh!” 

 The resulting shimmering breeze seemed to work for a moment, only for Nega-Buneary to howl in anger and spin around, knocking away Absol and Starlight before swatting at Willow. 

 “It wasn’t enough!?”    “Two at once, then!” Sunrise shouted, as she and Wish both leapt into the air. 

 “Precure! New Dawn Refresh!” 

 “Precure! Dream-Come-True Refresh!” 

 The combined attacks did the trick—in a flash, Buneary lay on the ground, dizzy. 

 “Got it!” Rotomi flew out to absorb the remaining energy.  Ataxia let out an insulted scoff. 

 “The nerve!” She squawked, before vanishing. 

 “And don’t come back!” Starlight yelled at where Ataxia once stood. 

 “That was a close one,” Sunrise said as she reverted to Kailani, picking up Buneary as it stared up at her.  She was quiet for a moment, then smiled.  “It’s okay.  I forgive you.  Let’s get you back to your trainer.” 

 As Rotomi absorbed the energy, Fae looked to Naomi.  “So, should we…?” 

 Naomi sighed.  “Let’s…wait a bit.” 

 ==== 

 “That was certainly a close one…be sure to take better care of your compacts, girls,” Dr. Pierce said as the group was gathered outside her home. 

 “We will!” Kailani replied, “Thanks for getting the kid to safety.” 

 “Well, I felt like it was my duty as an adult,” Dr. Pierce laughed sheepishly. 

 “I better head to the ferry now, or I’ll be very late getting home,” Asuka said, waving goodbye as she left. 

 “You girls better head back to the dorms, too,” Dr. Pierce nodded. 

 “Yeah, we’ll do that.  Thanks again, Dr. Pierce,” Fae replied. 

 “Just Alice is fine.”  Alice offered a smile. 

 As the remaining trio walked back, Naomi spoke up. 

 “So, that thing Ataxia had…it looked like a mega ring.” 

 “A mega ring?” Fae looked over. 

 “It’s something used to trigger mega-evolution,” Kailani explained, “Though I’ve only seen one once.  Come to think of it, you’re right, Naomi.  And she was able to use it on someone else’s pokemon…” 

 “I think we need to be even more on our guard,” Naomi replied, “Who knows what other tricks they have up their sleeves?” 

 ==== 

 “Here.” Bedlam held out a bottle of water to Ataxia.  She stared back at him, her eyelid twitching. 

 “What’s this for?” 

 “Consolation prize.” 

 She slapped it out of his hand.  “I don’t need your consolation prizes!  I’ll get the Precure next time!” 

 “Yeah, yeah.” Bedlam looked to the corner of the room—a dark-colored gardevoir knelt there, holding a large crystal ball which replayed the footage of the encounter. 

 “Are you using my gardenoir to spy on me!?” Ataxia huffed. 

 “She did it all by herself.  She wanted to see how you were doing.” 

 “Hmph!”  Ataxia walked over.  “Turn that off, Gardenoir!” 

 “Gardenoir,” it replied, the crystal ball disappearing.  Ataxia looked over at Bedlam. 

 “Next time, mind your own business.” 

 As she walked off, Bedlam laid back on the chaise lounge. 

 The woman he had seen in the footage looked so familiar… 

[phoenixmaiden-gaming]

Assassin’s Creed Brotherhood part 10

So this time around, I left the Animus for a while and explored the city as Desmond, then headed back in and started a new memory where I can now recruit citizens as Assassins. That’s awesome.

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

I then left the Animus because there was a ! showing that there was something new to do. So I talked to Shaun first. He said he couldn’t figure out the coded sheet I got from the courier that was met for Cesare. Without the tool to decipher it, they can’t solve it. When talking to Lucy, she said her contacts said that the Templars are blocking the border and are training people to get ready for war.

I then went outside and wandered around and ended up finding an artifact. Mario’s Sword. Apparently, there are 5 of them I can find. So I went searching for more.

Ha! Found another artifact sitting in one of the open buildings. It was a Medi Cape Artifact.

I found another one, Ezio’s Belt, in what looks like a pile of trash by the wall surrounding the town. 

I then returned to the Sanctuary and looked around and found I could interact with Ezio’s statue. Desmond then made fun of it and it got the others angry and they started going off on one another. Lucy told them to stop. Tensions were high so it got a little out of hand. 

The artifacts I found were on a stand. I guess I still have 3 more to find. I’ll find them another time.

I then hopped back into the Animus.

I then headed back to the hideout where Catalina had made it. She was being treated by a doctor. Machiavelli had been mysteriously absent then suddenly appeared saying he was looking for Ezio. I don’t know why they mentioned it, I hope he’s not a bad guy. Ezio then informed them that he couldn’t kill Cesare or Rodrigo because Cesare had left and Rodrigo wasn’t even there.

Heading outside, Machiavelli said that he wanted to move forward in their war efforts on a different front. Ezio thought differently, he said that he wanted to stay in Rome and expand their forces and rid Rome of the Borgia influence.

We then saw that a citizen was being harassed by the Borgia. So Ezio said it was better to get the citizens on their side. So I went to help the citizen.

When I killed them off, the citizen wanted to help me with my cause by becoming an Assassin with Ezio’s teachings. Nice! I can now recruit citizens that are being harassed to join the Assassin’s Guild.

I then located another citizen in need of help and killed off the soldiers.

The recruit, a woman this time (sweet!) then joined the guild.

Through the Pigeon Coops, I can send the recruits on missions where they can gain experience and gain levels. So I will be sending them out on missions periodically until they are maxed out in level. I can also call for them to help me in fights.

I bought the Mausoleo di Augusto! Yay!

I got my 25th Borgia Flag, now Art Merchants sell maps to find feathers and Borgia flags. Yay! I will have to go and buy one.

I renovated the last building in the Centro District. Now the district is 100% rebuilt!!

I went to an Art Merchant and bought an Antico Treasures 1 map, Feathers map and Antico Flags map. I then went on a treasure hunting spree.

This Borgia Flag I couldn’t get yet. It was too far to jump to. So I will come back to it later.

Ugh, I had such a hard time getting to this flag, I just couldn’t seem to get to it. I kept falling down, but eventually, I got it. That was the last one I could get along with the treasures. The others were just inaccessible to me right now.

The last thing I did for the night was rebuilt an Aquaduct and I went to an Art Merchant and bought the Campagna Treasure 1 map and a Campagna Flags map. I guess I know what I will be doing tomorrow.

Until next time! phoenix out!

[vivaciouswordsmith]

Chapter 2 already?!

Wow you guys. I could never have expected such an overwhelmingly positive response to Four-Legged Fiend. You guys seriously are the best. I’d had about two or three chapters planned out already, so expect the delays to start popping up after chapter 3. But who knows? I certainly don’t. :)

Also I absolutely based the first two chapters on my mom’s experience with her two newest kittens, Dipper and Mabel. She “fostered” them for about thirty minutes before deciding to adopt them, then spent about two weeks trying to convince my dad to let her keep them. He resisted up until Christmas.

So I guess, in a way, I have them to thank for the beginning of this story.

This is them, by the way.

And, of course, thanks to the lovely @ask-thevagabond for giving me the idea in the first place. :D

Anyway, I finished chapter 2 quicker than expected, so I’m putting it up now. As always, you can read it here or beneath the cut. Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Another Man’s Treasure

“I told you, we’re not keeping that thing!”

Jack scowled at Geoff and scooped up the pup. “He is not a thing.”

Geoff crossed his arms. “Fine. We’re not keeping him. Is that better?”

Jack huffed and left the living room. They’d returned to their home two days ago when their contacts sounded the all-clear. As it turned out, the pup was indeed old enough to eat solid food, and he’d turned into a little vacuum cleaner. Jack swore the little thing had sucked down more than double his weight in food in a matter of hours, and he ran out of canned food only two days into their stay. With his belly full, the pup grew much bolder. He stopped hiding in Jack’s lap and explored their little hideout from top to bottom. Geoff spent the whole time eyeing the pup balefully and grumbling under his breath.

He nearly flipped his lid when the pup squatted in the corner and peed all over the power cables. It took Jack nearly fifteen minutes to remind Geoff that the pup wasn’t paper trained and he didn’t deliberately target the cables to piss him off. His partner eventually relented with the promise that Jack would keep the pup out of trouble for the remainder of their stay, and would find him a good home when they returned to Los Santos.

Jack had yet to make good on the second part of that promise.

Truth be told, the pup had won him over the moment he saw that tiny skull-face peeping up at him from the depths of the garbage bag. Jack couldn’t even imagine getting rid of the little pup now. Hell, the first thing he did after getting back to Los Santos was read up on dogs and raid the nearest pet store. There was now a box in his room stuffed to the brim with dog toys, a shelf full of wet puppy food in the kitchen, a ceramic bowl covered in dog prints in the sink, several dog beds strewn about the apartment, a leash hanging beside the door, pee pads in every corner he thought the pup could reach, and an entire slew of tiny shirts and collars residing in his dresser drawer. He’d blown a sizable chunk of his cut from the heist on puppy stuff.

He didn’t regret it one bit. Especially not when he saw the little black and white baby curled up in a corner of the giant dog bed the cashier had assured him the pup would grow into one day.

God, he already had eight billion puppy photos on his phone. He was so fucked.

Jack chuckled and waltzed into the kitchen. Most of the articles he’d found online said the pup needed plenty of food to grow into a good, strong dog. The pup ate like it was going out of style, and Jack swore he’d already doubled in size. He wiggled in Jack’s arms and pushed his wet nose into his beard. His little stick of a tail wagged as soon as Jack put him on the counter and set his bowl beside him. He had half a can left over from the pup’s breakfast, which he quickly retrieved from the fridge. The pup yipped and scampered around on the counter.

“It’s coming, it’s coming.” Jack dumped the remainder of the can into the bowl, and it was immediately beset by the pup. He smacked and slurped at the food, and little bits of processed meat flew out and spattered over the counter. Jack beamed and brushed his fingers over the pup’s back. He currently wore a shirt that proclaimed I’m a Bad Boy, with a skull and crossbones beneath the text. Out of the twenty-odd shirts Jack had bought, it was currently his favorite.

“Don’t tell me you’re feeding him on the counter again.” Geoff bumped past Jack and pulled a beer from the fridge. He closed the door, retrieved a bottle opener from the utensil drawer, and popped the top off. “We make shit on that counter.”

“You know Clorox exists, right?”

“I don’t fucking care.” He chugged half the beer in one go and burped. “The fuck is he wearing, anyway?”

“A shirt?”

“Why the fuck is he wearing a shirt?”

“Cause it’s funny and he doesn’t seem to mind?”

“Who does that?!”

“Literally everyone who owns a dog?”

Geoff shook his head. “It’s weird.”

“Is it any weirder than anything else people do for their pets?”

“You know what? I’ll tell you what’s weird. His fucking face. His fucking face is weird.” Geoff pointed at the pup. “That skull face isn’t natural. Little freak.”

“Really, Geoff? Really?” Jack patted the pup’s back a few times. “You’re not a freak, are you?”

“Number nine on Los Santos’s most wanted list, everybody.”

The pup polished off his lunch and looked up at Jack. His head tilted to one side. “That’s all you’re getting until dinnertime, champ.” He put the bowl in the sink and picked the pup up again. “How about you and me go for a walk?”

“How about you and him find him a home that isn’t here?”

“I’m working on it.”

“Says the guy who bought a dog fucking t-shirts!” Geoff tramped back into the living room and flopped into a worn armchair. “I’ll find one myself if you don’t.”

“Sure. Once you convince some assholes to come work for us, you can find the pup a home.”

Geoff groaned and let his head flop back against the aging leather. “Don’t fucking remind me. I’m talking to this guy up in New Jersey right now, but it’s like pulling fucking teeth.”

“Why are you talking to a guy in New Jersey?” Jack pulled the leash and a tiny blue harness off the peg next to the front door and set the pup on the ground. He growled and ran over to Geoff’s ottoman. “Goddammit, I know you don’t like it, but you have to wear a leash when we go out!”

“He claims he’s the best demo guy in the business, and he’s job hunting at the moment, and he’s interested in joining a proper crew.”

“So what’s the problem?” Jack managed to catch the pup and wrestled him into his harness. The pup growled and spent several minutes trying to bite the straps on his shoulders.

“The problem? The problem is we’re in Los Santos and he’s in fucking New Jersey and he’s not sure he wants to relocate two thousand goddamn miles away from home!” Geoff sipped at his beer and sighed. “I’m trying to negotiate with him, but it’s looking unlikely.”

“Then find someone closer to home.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not? Sounds pretty fucking simple to me.” Jack clipped the leash onto the harness and opened the door. “We’ll be back in about fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Whatever.”

The pup resisted being led by the leash right up until they left the apartment. His little ears stood up straight and he immediately ran in front of Jack. He sniffed the slimy-looking sidewalk and darted over to a beer can with several cigarette butts sticking out of the aperture. Jack tugged on the leash and pulled the pup away from the debris. God, this apartment was a shithole.

While they walked, Jack mused on what Geoff had said earlier. He’d talked for several years now about forming a proper crew, but it was only when they got back from their most recent heist that he’d seriously started looking into recruiting. Apparently he’d been pinching his pennies for quite some time so he could hire what he called “the best in the business.” He promised Jack that things would be better once they got some guys. No more squatting in holes. No more fearing the LSPD would come knocking on their door. No more drug running in the middle of the night. No more kowtowing to greasy-looking shitheads who were half as old as them. They would be the ones calling the shots. They would be the ones on top. They’d sit back sipping champagne and laugh while their underlings did the dirty work.

At least, that was Geoff’s dream. God only knew how it would turn out.

Most of the fifteen minute walk went by uneventfully, save for a few moments where Jack had to keep the pup from exploring upturned trash cans and abandoned buildings. He trotted along happily enough, which left Jack to his contemplating. Soon enough it was over and they were heading home. The little pup climbed a set of three stairs leading up into the parking lot all by himself, and looked down on Jack with what almost looked like pride.

“Good job, buddy!” The pup’s tail wagged, and warmth settled over the criminal’s insides. He scooped the pup up and carried him back into the apartment.

Geoff now snored in his worn chair, laptop still resting on his knees, though it looked dangerously close to smashing on the floor. Jack sighed and put the laptop on the coffee table. “So much for that crew thing,” he muttered. The pup looked at him and tilted his head. “C’mon, buddy, let’s go take a nap.”

When Jack woke up, the pup was not in his bed. A moment of panic flashed through him and he jumped out of his bed. He ran into the living room and glanced around several times before finally catching sight of the pup. Relief washed over him, and then he let out a soft laugh.

The pup had somehow crawled onto Geoff’s lap and fallen asleep with his legs stretched out and his muzzle buried in his partner’s knees. His sock-clad back leg occasionally twitched in time with an unseen dream, and the pup let out a tiny grunt every so often.

Jack pulled out his phone and took a few pictures. The shutter sound eventually caused Geoff to stir. He let out an incomprehensible grumble and looked down into his lap. His shoulders stiffened, and he glared at Jack.

“Don’t…fucking…say…anything.”

“Say what? I didn’t put him there.”

“This…this changes nothing! He’ll be out of here by Thursday, I swear to fucking Christ!” The pup rolled over and showed Geoff his black and white underbelly. His front paws folded up against his chest and his back paws stretched out into Geoff’s lap. His mouth opened ever so slightly, revealing the tip of a bright pink tongue. Jack’s partner swallowed and tore his eyes away. “Friday. But that’s my final offer.”

“How can you look at that and still want to give him away?”

“I don’t! I mean, I do, but – shut up. Just shut up.” Geoff shifted in his chair until he was able to grab his laptop and set it on the arm of the chair. “I’m looking up good homes for puppies right now, I swear to fucking Christ.”

“Sure you are.” Jack meandered over to the kitchen and got a beer and a bag of chips for himself. When he walked by Geoff he glanced over at his laptop screen and saw an Amazon store page full of dogs wearing little suits and hats. “We’re not keeping him, huh?”

“What? Uh, it’s not what it looks like!” Geoff alt-tabbed out of the page and quickly googled ‘dog homes’. He only became more frantic when the results were all dog houses. “I, uh, you know, guy’s gotta look his best if he’s gonna win his new family over, right?”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Seriously. I want him to make a good first impression.”

The pup stirred and yawned widely. His tiny white teeth flashed in the light. He rolled onto his paws, shook himself and jumped onto the arm of the chair. He snuffled at the dogs on the screen and looked up at Geoff.

“Yeah? Like what you see, buddy?” Geoff rubbed between the pup’s ears. “I bet this blue deal would bring out your eyes.” He pointed at something on the screen. The pup licked his finger and wagged his tail. “We’ll make you look handsome as fuck.”

Jack just watched the scene play out like it was a movie. He hid his smile behind his beer bottle and munched on chips. The ‘staunch resistance’ looked like it would peter out soon enough.

“‘We’re not keeping him’ my ass,” he said under his breath.

“What was that?” Geoff looked up from the screen. His fingers still rested on the pup’s back.

“Nothing.”

“Seriously? This is so stupid.”

“He needs a name, dude.”

Jack looked over at the opposite wall and raised his eyebrows. “On that, we agree, sure. But this is your best solution?”

The pup’s name had been a topic of heated debate all week long. Both of them had entire lists of wonderful names that neither of them agreed on. Then, that Wednesday morning, right after Jack had finished a rather difficult carjacking job, Geoff pulled him into the living room and told him all their name troubles were solved. His ‘solution’ involved covering their dartboard in over a dozen Post-It notes with names scrawled on them in Sharpie. One toss of a dart would finally end their week long debate.

“Look, it was either this or drawing names from a hat. If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

“Nope. This is all you.” The pup ran toward them and sat down at Jack’s feet. He bent down and scooped him up, smiling when the pup snuffled at his cheek. “Looks like you’ll finally get a name now, if Geoff ever throws the damn dart.”

“I’m working on it!” Geoff picked up a red-fletched dart, which he claimed was his lucky dart, closed one eye, and cocked it over his shoulder. “Okay…aiming for Skeletor…really…feeling…Skeletor.”

“For the last time, we’re not naming him Skeletor.”

“Yeah? When this dart lands on Skeletor, you’re gonna look real stupid. Like…right now!” Geoff stepped forward and threw the dart. It thunked solidly into the Post-It note directly below the ‘Skeletor’ note. “Fuck.”

“Like I said, we’re not naming him Skeletor.” Jack walked forward and pulled the dart out of the board.

“That, uh, that was a misfire. That means I get a retry.”

“What – no you don’t get a retry! You said one shot would decide this! That was your one shot! So we’re naming him…” Jack grabbed the Post-It note and glanced at it. “Ryan. We’re naming him Ryan.”

“Oh my God, that’s the most boring name in the universe,” said Geoff. “I still say we should go for Skeletor.”

“Well, what do you think?” Jack looked at the pup in his arms. He gazed solemnly back at him. “You think Ryan’s a good name?” The pup tilted his head, and his tongue flopped out of his mouth. “Ryan it is then.”

Geoff glared at the faded marks on the red dart. “Traitor.”

Jack burst out laughing. The pup – now Ryan, he supposed – wiggled in his arms and let out a yip.

“Don’t get too excited, Ryan. Next up is your vet appointment.”

Ryan whined and ducked his head into Jack’s arm.