#so now I have my April vacation coming up and have given everyone at work strict orders that if i try to participate in anything

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

The fact that all my noticeable dysautonomia symptoms just DISSOLVE the second I lay down, no matter how severe they were, butthat I have to STAY laying down for that to stay true feels like God's way of punishing me for my hubris

"Hey I know you're a weird little kid with too much juice in your brain to be human, how about we nerf you a little harder and give you Fakey McFakerson's Disease where the only way to not want to die is to lay in bed 24/7 and never get up or do anything ever, and people will never believe that you hate living like this actually!"

The fact that "lay down and stay down" is the only treatment available to me when my orthostatic hypotension flares overwhelm my treatment protocol is just a fucking nightmare on all conceivable levels

In unrelated news:

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 82

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, April 22nd; 10:30 PM - Porto Beach.

Who would have thought we had a little bit of luck in this life? For our last evening in Portugal, we get to attend a concert on the beach. It's a beautiful way to wrap up our vacation.

“Are you having fun?” my girlfriend asks me at the end of a song.

“Oh yes!”

She laughs as I struggle to catch my breath. I don’t like dancing, and yet, I’m having the time of my life tonight. I’m literally drenched in sweat, and it takes a lot for that to happen.

“I can see that. You should take a break.”

“I think you’re right.”

“Shall we go sit further away?” suggests Alexia, who must have overheard us.

“Yes, good idea. Plus, the later it gets, the more crowded it seems.”

Lucy takes my hand to follow the others and lead us out of the crowd. A few minutes later, we find ourselves sitting on the sand. I settle between Lucy’s legs, and she pulls me close against her. We have a perfect view of the stage. I turn my head towards our friends, who are sitting in the same position. It’s really cool to be with them. Our couples have a perfect harmony, and we enjoy the same things. I don’t have time to think more before I feel Lucy’s lips on my neck. I smile and tilt my head a little more to give her access.

“It’s over,” I whisper.

“What is?”

“These holidays. Our little bubble.”

“Hmm... I’d say you’re wrong. Everything is just beginning.”

“How so?”

I think I can feel her amused breath escaping against my neck.

“Well, everything is just starting. Our bubble won’t disappear as long as we’re together.”

My smile grows wider. Actually, maybe she’s right. When we get back, we’ll finally be at ease. We’ve done a lot of things recently, including meeting her family. Everyone was fantastic. Jenni’s family was invited too, so I had Alexia’s support as I wanted, but I didn’t need it. I was really well received. It was truly a warm celebration. I understood why family is so important to Lucy when I saw her so close with hers. They’re close-knit, unlike mine. However, she still hasn’t talked to me about what she’s hiding. The harmony was so strong that I didn’t dare to spoil anything.

“I’m so thirsty!” Alexia complains. “Would you mind coming with me to the bar?” she asks.

“If you want, sure.”

“I can go if you’d like,” offers Lucy.

“No, don’t worry. We’ll be right back.”

I turn around to peck her lips before getting up. We leave with Alexia, leaving our partners behind us.

“I’m going to miss these holidays so much,” she comments.

“Same here.”

“Leaving here will bring us back to reality with a thud, given what awaits us when we return.”

“Oh no, please! Now’s not the time to think about the exam.”

Alexia laughs.

“Well? Haven’t you studied enough yet?”

“Yes, but it’s stressful.”

“Come on, you still have an entire week to work on the most difficult parts.”

“Hmm. We’re not there yet anyway.”

“You’re right. We have another problem on our hands.”

Indeed. We find ourselves in front of the stand, which is packed with people. I sigh, running my hand through my hair.

“We’re going to be here for a while, I think,” she says.

“Yeah.”

We wait for the line to shorten and keep ourselves busy chatting. We talk about a lot of things, but that’s what’s great about Alexia. We can talk about anything without any limits.

“So, with Lucy? Have you managed to find out what she’s hiding?”

I shake my head but smile, thinking about her. The way she looks at me every time I leave warms my heart. It’s like she’s afraid something might happen to me at any moment.

“No, not yet.”

“And doesn’t it bother you not knowing?”

“A little, but not too much. I kept secrets from her for a long time too.”

“That’s true,” she smiles.

When it’s finally our turn, we order our drinks and get something for Lucy and Jenni as well. We leave the crowded stand to return to our partners. I take a deep breath once we’re free.

“Phew, I thought we’d never get out of there.”

“Me too,” I giggle. “It’s suffocating with so many people.”

I nod. A year ago, I couldn’t even imagine being in such a place. I’ve come a long way since then. We head back to our spot. Unfortunately, two men, barely older than us, block our path. They look around Lucy’s age.

“Hey there, pretty ladies.”

“Oh great,” groans Alexia. “Just what we needed.”

Indeed, this is not good timing. With all these people, anyone could be around. Apparently, our skill with Alexia is attracting jerks who have had enough to drink to approach two girls alone.

“Are you going to join your friends?”

“No, our partners, actually,” Alexia answers, raising her drinks.

“Really? Who’d be dumb enough to leave two beautiful girls alone if that were true?”

I start to feel scared. I don’t like this situation, especially the way they’re being so pushy. Bad memories resurface.

“They’re not alone.”

Relief floods over me as I feel Lucy’s arm wrap around my waist. I look at her over my shoulder. She’s tense. Much more than she’s ever been.

“Lucy the loner,” one of the guys in front of us says in surprise. “That’s a surprise.”

Her grip on my hip tightens. I can feel her boiling beside me. I turn my gaze back to these guys, who suddenly seem less unfamiliar. Lucy the loner... What’s that about? I don’t like seeing Lucy like this. I lean over to kiss her cheek and take the opportunity to whisper in her ear.

“Let it go, baby. They’re not worth it.”

“Well, it seems like you’re not so lonely anymore.”

“Well, well. Jarod and Tom. It seems fate has brought us together again.”

“Of course, where Lucy is, Jenni is never far behind.”

Her presence reassures me.

“Let it go and move on. Neither of these girls are available.”

“Well. It looks like Lucy has finally found someone. That’s quite surprising. We all thought you’d end up alone forever.”

These words make me take a deep breath. I really don’t like the way these guys talk to Lucy. They don’t respect her. They talk about her as if she’s never going to achieve anything in her life, as if... as if she’s worthless. And I know what that feels like. I’ve felt that way enough times in my life to know what it’s like. I look at Lucy, who doesn’t even react. That’s definitely a first. She put me in my place plenty of times when we first met. I can’t let them talk about her like this. I just can’t help myself.

“Can you hold this for me, please?” I ask Lucy calmly, handing her the drinks.

My girlfriend takes them with total disbelief. Once my hands are free, I step forward toward these men who think they can act however they want, and I grab the front of the shirt of the first one I see. Surprise flashes in his eyes.

“Who do you think you are with your big attitude?”

“Ona, stop. You just said yourself they’re not worth it.”

“That was before they disrespected you. They’re judging you without knowing who you are. I’m going to make them eat their words, you’ll see!”

I raise my fist, but it’s intercepted before it can reach its target. It’s Lucy herself who stopped me, even though I put all my strength into it.

“Stop,” she repeats much more sternly. “This isn’t the time to start a fight, and anyway, I’ve moved on.”

“I just wanted to…”

“I know, sweetheart. But I don’t need anyone to defend me anymore.”

I relax, understanding her message. I release the man I had targeted, and it’s Lucy who ends up punching him. I don’t regret letting her handle it. She’s much stronger than I am, and let’s just say she didn’t hold back. She must have put all her anger into that punch, and I understand her.

“I never want to see you again. So stay away from us. Do I make myself clear?”

The other man beside him doesn’t even dare to say a word seeing his friend on the ground. I bet she managed to break his nose, but he deserved it. He ends up nodding when Lucy takes a step closer to him.

“Okay, we can go now.”

Lucy takes back our drinks that Jenni had been holding during this scene.

“We’re going to take a walk,” says Alexia, holding Jenni back.

“What? But…”

“Baby, I want to go back to the stage, please.”

“Fine,” the latter mutters.

I smile at Alexia. It’s indeed the right moment to leave us alone. Lucy is a ticking time bomb about to explode.

“We’ll catch up with you later.”

She winks at me before they leave. As for me, I put my hand around Lucy’s waist and take one of the cups.

“Come on, let’s go sit somewhere.”

She nods without a word. We move further away from the stage until we’re far from the crowd. We can still hear the music in the distance, but that’s it. We’re completely cut off from the world.

“Luce…”

“You understand?”

She’s completely withdrawn. I’ve never seen her like this before. We’re sitting next to each other, facing the sea where the waves are crashing in every direction. Tonight is a bit cooler than the other days, but it’s still bearable.

“Not completely… Just, don’t close yourself off. That’s what you always told me.”

She sighs and takes a sip of her beer. She then puts it down and finally turns to me. I can see her eyes shining in the moonlight.

“Come here.”

I open my arms to her, and she doesn’t hesitate to come into them. I tighten my hold to show her I’m here. On her side, she clings to me but says nothing. I don’t want to force her. It’s up to her if she wants to talk about it. There was a long silence before she found the courage to speak.

“My life here hasn’t been easy. I was first abandoned by my biological parents before being welcomed by a loving family.”

I get a knot in my stomach from the words she uses. Here it comes, she’s going to tell me.

“I learned to love them, and they taught me to feel loved in return... It was when I started school that it all began. I was excited at first. I thought I would make friends other than Jenni, who was my neighbor.”

“What happened…?” I murmur.

“I became a target, like a scapegoat. For them, it wasn’t normal that I had a black mother. That was their excuse to push me aside.”

“No way…” I breathe. “And Jenni…” I leave my sentence hanging.

“She stayed by my side, of course. She always has, even though, on the other hand, she was always popular. She had friends, but as soon as they saw me being attacked, she would defend me. After a while, she didn’t even dare to leave me alone anymore.”

“That’s horrible…”

Lucy takes a deep breath. Her head sinks deeper into my neck.

“That’s how it was…”

“It never stopped?”

“Well… It eased off over the years. It was in middle school that things finally calmed down, but it didn’t last long. That’s when I started to be interested in girls.”

No way. That’s exactly why I could never fully come to terms with myself. I was afraid of that reaction. Why are people so stupid? We’re in an era where they should have a more evolved open-mindedness. What they did was just plain cruelty. I had talked to Lucy about my fears, but I never imagined she could have been a victim of it.

“And those guys then…”

“They were the ones who found out. The one I hit, Tom, had hit on me back then. I had turned him down, but he didn’t take it well. So he tried to tear me down any way he could. He overheard a conversation between Jenni and me about my doubts about my orientation one day, and he used it against me.”

“What a scumbag!”

The only regret I have is not being able to punch him myself. How does she stay so strong after that? I would have completely shut down in her place. It’s not normal.

“It’s okay, baby. Calm down.”

“Calm down!? You know I can’t stand people who judge and put others down just for fun! They don’t realize how much it destroys a person!”

“I know, that’s partly why I love you, but that’s just how it is. Whether we like it or not, there’s hatred everywhere in this world.”

“Stop it. In this case, it’s not hatred. It’s just harassment!”

“Ona.”

I fall silent as she straightens up so our eyes meet. How does she do it? I really don’t understand. Just a moment ago, her eyes were shining, and now they’re filled with determination.

“Tonight, that wasn’t harassment,” she says.

I tilt my head. I have a hard time following her.

“I had grown up in high school. I showed them I could fight. I got into sports and even became top of the class. I earned people’s respect. If I had wanted, I could have had lots of friends, but at that time, I didn’t want to. Hanging out with hypocrites at parties wasn’t my thing. That’s why they called me the loner.”

“But then… why did they respond to you tonight? It makes no sense.”

“Well, I think they were surprised to see me again. It was instinct. Everyone knew I left Portugal after high school. I rarely come back here.”

“I see��� And your family? Did they know?”

“Not when it happened. They always found out afterward. I had become very reserved, and I didn’t trust people anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

“I didn’t want to worry them. I already owed them so much. They were the reason I held on.”

“You’re the first to tell me it’s important to talk about it!”

“Yes, but you’re also the first to understand that it’s not easy.”

I sigh and nod. I understand better now why she never forced me to open up.

“That’s why you care so much about family…”

“Yes, that’s why. Family is important, even if we’re not connected by blood. Of course, there have to be good relationships, but generally, it’s those we can count on at any moment.”

I smile sadly and nod. She’s probably right. Even if it hasn’t always been smooth with my mom, I’m starting to see everything she did for me in a certain way. Plus, I had my dad too.

“You’re right,” I murmur.

She smiles at me before snuggling back into my arms. I take the opportunity to lie down and hug her. I think she needs it. I needed it after every revelation I made to her. I just didn’t dare ask for it. Now it’s different. We’re together. That’s what makes us stronger. It’s us against the rest of the world.

“Why did you date Keira? Not that I mind, but she seems like the type who could be like those people.”

A long silence follows my question. As she described to me, she could easily be that kind of person.

- Keira, it’s Keira. Yes, she could have been someone I hated, but she also had a difficult childhood.

- Oh... Really?

- Keira came from a tough neighborhood, but she did everything she could not to be associated with it. Proof of that, she made it to university. That’s where we met.

- I thought it was at a party?

- Yes, it was. At the freshman welcome party. Jenni had forced me to go. He wanted me to have fun, so I agreed, but in the end, I ended up alone in a corner... Until Keira. In fact, she was the only one who came to talk to me that day.

- Jenni dared to leave you alone?

- Yes, she chuckles. But I asked her to. She had the right to have fun too.

- What happened with Keira then?

- We talked, and she started flirting with me when she noticed I wasn’t indifferent to her charm.

- Is that how you two started dating?

- I had never been with anyone before, and I didn’t trust people much, so... no.

- So, how did she do it?

- She was persistent. Keira was very determined. The first day of the week after the party, she accompanied me to the café I frequented, and she remembered my order. Then she brought me my drink every day. She was very interested in me, and that’s how I grew fond of her.

- Is that what made you fall in love with her?

- No... I think it was more her personality. She had a big heart. That’s what set her apart from the people who persecuted me. She wanted to make a difference. She had a will of steel. She didn’t hesitate to stand up for the weaker ones, even more so after I told her my story. She helped a lot of associations to support people in need who wanted to change their lives.

My heart races. It’s cruel to say, but I’m quite glad she’s not here anymore. I wouldn’t have stood a chance against her.

- She seemed exceptional...

The tone of my voice makes her look up. She smiles gently, running her hand through my hair.

- Don’t get me wrong. She had her flaws too.

- I’d like to know what they were.

- She was very stubborn. Even more than you. And she had a knack for getting into trouble by challenging people stronger than her. When you come from a certain neighborhood, you can’t erase everything. She wasn’t really well surrounded.

- That doesn’t make her any less remarkable.

- No, for sure, but...

She falls silent and shrugs.

- Keira wasn’t perfect. I couldn’t even tell you why I fell in love with her anymore... Maybe because she never gave up on me.

- I think so too. Since you hadn’t known anyone else before... It makes sense that you got attached to her. But the fact that she wanted to help everyone was very honorable. I just don’t understand why she fell so hard.

- I think her past caught up with her. You must know what that’s like... Keira lost her father during our studies. She was close to him, just like you. He was a drug addict, but she tried to save him more than once. As for her mother... She never knew her. She had already died before she could remember her.

- Oh my God...

- I managed to get her off drugs from my side, but I think the emotions were too strong. She went back to her bad habits after that and never recovered.

It’s truly awful. We are really more alike than I imagined. She didn’t deserve this. She was a good woman trying to do the right thing. I understand better why Lucy says she appreciates my determination and doesn’t want me to lose it. She was afraid I’d end up like her ex.

- Her mind simply gave up. In the end, I didn’t recognize her anymore. I knew something bad was going to happen soon. Yet, I stayed by her side. I couldn’t do otherwise.

Her voice breaks, but who could blame her? If I didn’t have the mental strength she talks about, Lucy would have lost two women for the same reasons. I’m glad I didn’t put her through that.

- You don’t have to blame yourself for her death, Lucy.

- I know, I murmur. Some people simply can’t be saved. I learned that lesson well, but it was hard to swallow.

The information strikes me. I’ve heard those words somewhere before.

- Korbin... I whisper. That’s why you said...

She nods.

- I was thinking about her, yes. Because it’s the truth.

I feel sad.

- It wasn’t the same circumstances, but it comes down to the same thing. Whether the past catches up with us or we’re stuck in the past, it’s the same thing.

- It’s not right. Things shouldn’t be like this. Keira shouldn’t have fallen. And Korbin... She had the potential to get out too...

- But that’s how it is. We can’t save everyone.

Fate didn’t bring us together by chance. I’m sure of that now. For Lucy, I must be her greatest victory. Not only did she manage to save me, but now, here we are together.

- Camp Wiegman has been good therapy for me too, you know, she continues. I’ve learned to change people, just like Keira wanted. Some will continue their studies after school or even get a job thanks to the lessons we gave them.

I smile, because I’m going to be one of those people.

- Others will think about this experience for a long time. They’ll remember how annoying we were to them, but also how we managed to change their perspective. It’s this experience they’ll pass on to their children. Surely not their previous life.

Once again, I feel connected to this statement. It’s true for me too. I no longer see things as dark as I used to. For others, it’s something else. They’ve learned to respect others and to be more open-minded. Some, who must be like Lucy’s bullies, will stop picking on the weaker ones. At least, I hope so.

- That’s why I love my job so much. We change people who want a new life. Of course, not everyone can be saved, as I said. This world is too full of hatred to succeed... But if we manage to help a large number, it’s already a good start.

- You’re so right. I hated this school at first, but now, I think there should be more of them. Of course, it’s no walk in the park, but the results are worth it. You just have to hang on.

- That’s what I liked most about you. You’ve been through a lot too, yet you’ve emerged. You fought to take control of your life. That wasn’t the case with Keira.

- Yet, she had you. For me, it’s you who saved me. I wouldn’t be where I am now without you. You’ve been my rock from the beginning, and I know you will remain so.

- And you’re mine. You don’t realize how much you make me better and stronger.

- You were already strong enough before you met me.

- If you say so...

- I say so.

Lucy takes a deep breath as she sits up on her elbows.

- I think about it often, you know. In fact, if you want to know everything, I’m often afraid of ending up like before... Alone and weak.

I smile gently, stroking her cheek. So that was the missing piece of the puzzle. It was her fears. She always seems so strong, but deep down, she isn’t as strong as she appears. I understand better why she has always been so jealous. She’s afraid of losing me. It’s really sweet.

- You won’t be alone anymore. You have me and our friends.

- I know, Ona... But I can’t help it...

- Lucy, we are soulmates. We were meant to meet. I also felt lonely before us. I understand your fears very well, but you don’t have the right to doubt. You’re the strongest of us. If it helps, be as jealous as you want when someone approaches me. Shut them down even. It doesn’t bother me at all; on the contrary. When you do, it warms my heart because I feel like I’m yours. It helps both of us.

I see her relax before me.

- I love you so much, she murmurs.

She kisses me, and I let her because I know she needs it. We feel the same way. Neither of us thought we would find someone so compatible. Yet, here we are, and I wouldn’t trade my place for anything in the world. We complete each other and make each other stronger.

- You know, I wouldn’t be so quick to rejoice if I were you... I say between kisses.

- Oh? And why is that?

- We’re not going to leave each other now. You’re going to have to put up with me outside of school, and for a good while. Who says I’m not more annoying?

- Hmm... Believe me, if you become annoying, I’ll find ways to bring you back down to earth. Maybe I’ll force you to run... Or maybe I’ll...

I smile as I feel her hand slide under my t-shirt. I let her do as she kisses me until she starts tickling me.

- Ah! No! Not that!

She laughs as I squirm under her.

- What? You don’t like it?

- Definitely not

! Stop!

She bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but laugh too. It feels good. To laugh, but above all to be together. We were two wounded souls, and now we’ve managed to heal and become stronger together.

- I love you so much, my favorite commander.

She laughs softly before burying her head in my neck.

- I love you too, my favorite rebel.

Yeah, definitely, my life has become perfect.

[imzadi-caskett-huddy]

It Started With a Kiss (8/?)

Thanks so much, everyone for your reviews on the last chapter! I’m so glad you all enjoyed my take on the Alex Conrad situation. And now for one of my favorite episodes of the show, To Love and Die in LA. Seriously, this episode is in my top 5…maybe even top 3 depending on my mood that day.

Date wise, the last chapter took place around April 11, and this one takes place around May 2. So that’s a 3 week time gap. Wonder what our favorite couple got up to after the way Kate kissed him in the last chapter, hmm?

Again, I want to remind you that this will be the last update on this story until after I return from vacation on June 15…and Hell Hath No Fury will be due for an update first. So enjoy this one, because it will most likely be several weeks before I get around to writing the next chapter. I promise I’ll get it up as soon as I can though!

Also…there is a section rated M in this chapter. It is clearly marked where you will want to stop reading, and then when it ends. It’s sex heavy, but not smut heavy. Still, read at your own peril, lol!

I still don’t own Castle…

xxxxx

Castle had barely seen Beckett since that night 3 weeks ago when she’d kissed him. The first week she’d been tied up prepping with an ADA for a trial, which worked out with him needing to finish a couple of chapters for the next Heat book, as well as some edits. And then Gina and Paula had worked together to ambush him with some promotional book signings and appearances in an effort to drum up more presales for his newest novel, not to mention the graphic novel for Storm that was being put together.

He’d seen her exactly twice…both times at the precinct when he’d brought her coffee. Neither time for very long, so they hadn’t been able to discuss their relationship or if the kiss she’d given him was a sign she was ready to move forward, but she had made time to spend several minutes with him in the break room since he had come all the way to the precinct just to bring her coffee. They would spend those ten minutes or so in the break room together, innocently flirting and occasionally standing just close enough to brush up against each other. And it always ended with the most brilliant smile from her, thanking him for the coffee. Castle knew he would go out of his way to bring her coffee every day for the rest of his life if she continued to smile at him the way she had those two days.

They had, of course, chatted via text and twice over the phone, but neither of them seemed to want to discuss the kiss or their relationship over the phone or text messages, and rightfully so. It was a big step for them; when it happened, it needed to be in person. She had known he was returning to the city that afternoon, so when his phone rang, he didn’t bother to look at the caller

ID, simply assuming it was her. No one else usually called him after 9 anymore.

“Did a body drop, or did you just miss me so much you couldn’t wait another day to see me?” he asked with a grin.

“Castle, I’m going to send you an address, and you need to get down here,” Lanie said simply.

“Lanie? What’s wrong?” he asked, the smile falling from his lips. Lanie never called him. Kate was the one who called him about a body drop.

“A body was found…”

He swallowed hard. “Kate? Did something happen to her?” he had to ask, interrupting before Lanie could finish her sentence. He felt his heart sink. Was Lanie calling to tell him something had happened to Kate?

Hearing the worry in his tone, Lanie realized what he must have thought. “The body we found is Mike Royce. Espo is just now calling her, so she’s not here yet, but you need to hurry. I doubt she’ll admit it, but she’s going to need you on this one.”

“I’m on my way,” he said, already out the door. He’d watched her go through hell several months ago when she’d realized Royce was part of their investigation and she’d had to arrest her former training officer. He could only imagine how his murder was going to hit her.

xxxxx

Castle’s eyes were on her the moment she got out of her unit. He could tell, just in the way she carried herself…the tension in her shoulders, the firm set of her jaw...she was torn up and doing everything she could to not appear that way.

“Where is he?” Beckett asked as she approached.

Montgomery stood beside Castle, shaking his head. “Turn around, go back home, and let me handle this.”

“Sir, I’ve seen dead bodies before,” she insisted.

The captain studied her for a moment but knew it was better for everyone if he just let her through. He nodded toward the back of the alley where Lanie was standing.

Castle was immediately at her side as she headed in that direction. “Come on, Kate…you don’t want to remember him like this,” he tried to get through to her.

“Castle, if it were me lying there, would you just walk away?” she turned to look at him.

Just the thought of that possibility sent a chill through his body and made him nauseous. He didn’t have to answer her question; the look he was giving her was answer enough–hell no, he wouldn’t just walk away. He would find whoever had hurt her, and then no one would ever find the body.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Lanie offered her condolences.

Beckett clenched her jaw and blinked, but Castle could tell she was struggling to hold onto her composure. “Tell me what happened.”

“He was shot in the leg. Judging from the blood trail, I’d say the bullet broke the bone. He tried to hide, but…” she trailed off with a shake of her head. “I found this in his pocket,” she handed Beckett an airplane ticket stub. “He flew in from LA this afternoon.”

Castle took a step closer to Beckett then. “What was he doing in LA?” he asked curiously.

“I heard he moved there after he lost his bounty hunter’s license. I guess he was trying to make a fresh start,” Beckett answered, looking over the ticket stub.

“When was the last time you spoke with him?” he asked her softly.

She swallowed hard, staring at the ticket stub before folding it back. “When I arrested him.” She took a deep breath. “Lanie, could I?”

“Sure,” Lanie answered, stepping out of the way and exchanging a look with Castle as Beckett approached Royce’s body.

Castle watched intently as she crouched down near the body and took a few minutes. He watched as her shoulders tensed a little more. He watched as she touched Royce’s hair and either sniffled or inhaled deeply…he couldn’t tell. He was ready to move to her side the minute she stood and headed back in his direction.

“Royce had something else in his pocket. It’s addressed to you,” Lanie handed her a note.

“Is it about the case?” Castle asked her as she opened it.

After reading for a few moments, Beckett folded the note and put it in her pocket. “No.”

Esposito approached them, carrying a gun. “I think we got the murder weapon. Found it in the garbage around the corner.”

“Gun was definitely fired recently,” Ryan added as he joined them. “Shooter took the time to empty the ammo before he dumped it.”

“Worried we’d find fingerprints on the bullets?” Castle raised the question.

Beckett took the gun and examined it. “This is a cheap street gun. It’s a throw away.” She studied the gun a little more. “There’s threading on the barrel.”

“Silencer?” Castle suggested.

Esposito nodded. “Yeah.”

“Allowing our killer to shoot Royce in broad daylight,” Beckett stated, handing the gun back to Esposito to bag as evidence.

“Listen, Beckett…we’re gonna get this guy,” Ryan assured her. “We got uniforms heading to every store and apartment within a 5-block radius.”

“This is New York. Somebody had to have seen something,” Esposito added.

Castle turned to her, placing his hand on her shoulder lightly after the boys walked away. “Kate…”

“Castle, I’m fine,” she insisted.

“You’re not fine,” he said softly. “Royce was your friend. It’s okay to take a few minutes to grieve,” he added. After a minute, he let his hand fall from her shoulder. “Why don’t you let me take you home? There’s nothing else you can do tonight. You can get some sleep and start fresh on the case in the morning,” he suggested.

Beckett was about to protest when Montgomery walked over to join them. “Alright, you’ve seen him. You paid your respects. Now go home, Beckett.”

“Sir,” she started to protest.

“There’s nothing else you can do here tonight. Dr. Parish won’t have anything for you until she does an exam. Uniforms are canvassing everywhere. Ryan and Esposito will handle anything else. They’ll call you if anything pops. Go home, Beckett. That’s an order.”

She looked between her captain and her partner and finally relented, wordlessly stepping away from them to go back to her unit. Castle was quick to follow her.

“Castle, you go home too,” she told him, stopping him as he went to get into her car. “You just got back from a book tour. I know you’re tired.”

“I’m okay. I can just sit with you. You shouldn’t be alone…you don’t have to be alone,” he offered.

“I’m fine. I’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“Kate…”

“Rick, please,” she said. She needed to be alone. She was going to fall apart when she got home, and the last thing she wanted was for him to see her break like that.

The way she said his name, coupled with the look in her eyes had him nodding. “Okay. I’ll go home. But if you need anything…you call me. Even if all you need is me to sit on the phone with you in silence, ok?”

“Do you even know how to be silent?” she teased lightly, trying to show him that she was okay.

“I do, actually, when it matters. And I’m serious. Call me,” he insisted.

She nodded. “Okay.”

xxxxx

“Beckett, I’m not sending you to LA. You have no solid evidence linking Neal McCauley to this murder,” Montgomery insisted.

“He came to New York for 6 hours. Who flies in for that short a stay?” Castle pointed out.

“Businessmen do it all the time,” Montgomery countered.

“Businessmen don’t use fake IDs,” Castle countered back.

“Or pack silencers,” Beckett added.

Montgomery shook his head. “That’s supposition. I need a lot more than that to justify flying a detective across the country.”

Beckett shook her head as well. “You and I both know the longer I wait to go out there, the colder this trail gets.”

“Take a day to shore this up. And then if there’s sufficient evidence, I’ll contact the LAPD.”

“You’ll contact the LAPD?” Beckett asked incredulously. “This is my case! This happened in our jurisdiction. You think the LAPD is gonna lift a finger?”

“Kate, you’re too close to this!” Montgomery insisted.

“No, Sir, I am committed. I am not compromised.”

“You’re torn up,” he interrupted her. “Kate, things between you and Royce ended badly. I get it. But that emotion is exactly why I need to assign this to someone else.”

Beckett paused then, taking a step back. “You know what? You’re right. I am too close to this. I have some vacation days coming up. I think now would be a good time,” she stated, turning to head out of the office.

“Kate,” he called, stopping her. “I hope you’re not thinking about doing something reckless.”

She turned to face him, meeting his eyes for a long moment. “No, Sir,” she stated, leaving the office.

Castle’s eyes met Montgomery’s and both men seemed to understand each other. Montgomery’s look told Castle to follow her…something he would have done anyway…because neither man believed she was stepping back and doing nothing.

“Where are you going?” Castle called after her.

“Home,” she insisted.

“The hell you are. I know you better than that,” he tried to stop her with a hand on her arm.

“Castle, please,” she pulled it away. “He was my training officer…my friend. I just…I really need to be alone right now,” she told him, making her way to the elevator.

Castle watched helplessly as the doors closed. Why did it always feel like they’d take one step forward and then something happened to make them take two steps back? He was really beginning to hate that dance.

“You know she’s going to LA,” Espo said, coming up behind him.

“I know,” Castle sighed.

“You really think she’s going to just willingly let you go with her?” Ryan asked as he joined them.

“She won’t have much of a choice if she doesn’t find out until the plane is already in the air,” Castle stated simply, already pulling out his phone to check for the next flight to LA, knowing she’d be on it. “Whether she likes it or not, someone’s got to have her back…and I’m her partner.” He headed for the elevator himself; he had a couple of hours to pack a bag and get to the airport, already calling to arrange a hotel suite for them.

xxxxx

Kate Beckett hated the middle seats in airplanes. Unfortunately, that was all that was available to her last minute. She knew she was lucky to have gotten on the flight at all considering she’d been on standby status. Still, being squished between two larger men was going to make for a very uncomfortable flight across the country…especially if the baby screaming in the cabin didn’t eventually tire itself out and fall asleep.

“Excuse me, Detective Beckett?” one of the flight attendants approached her.

“Yes?” she answered.

“You’ve been upgraded to first class.”

Beckett didn’t even question the reason. “Thank you,” she smiled, standing quickly. “I’m sorry…excuse me,” she said to the man, climbing over him to get out of the cramped row. She followed the flight attendant to the first-class cabin.

“Seat 3C,” the attendant told her.

“Thank you,” she smiled her relief. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the man she’d be sitting next to.

“Champagne?” he asked innocently with a smile.

She took the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. “Castle, what are you doing?”

He shrugged with a grin. “The studio’s been after me for weeks to fly down and do a set visit for the Heat Wave movie. Imagine my surprise when I saw your name on the standby list,” he took a sip of the champagne.

“You cannot be a part of what I’m gonna do out there,” she told him simply.

“I thought you were on vacation,” he pointed out.

“Castle,” she shook her head. “Look, it’s one thing for you to follow me when we’re in New York, but I’m not a cop in LA. I don’t have any authority or backup,” she told him.

“I’ll be your backup,” he insisted. Seeing her roll her eyes, he continued. “I’m your partner. Besides, going rogue is kind of my specialty.”

“Yeah, but subtlety isn’t,” she countered with a small smile. “I’m not going to get rid of you am I?” she asked him. Seeing him shake his head, she sighed. “Okay, if we do this together you have to promise me that we’re gonna fly under the radar.”

“Of course,” he smiled, offering her the extra glass of champagne.

She studied him for a moment before taking it with another roll of her eyes. She took a sip, offering him a small smile. “Thank you for upgrading me. I was kind of miserable back there.”

“You mean, you didn’t enjoy your seat sandwiched between two of the linemen for the Giants?” he asked with a chuckle.

“No,” she smirked. “The screaming baby didn’t help either.”

He laughed softly. “You’re welcome. Besides, how are we supposed to talk strategy with you in the back of the plane and me in the front?”

“We weren’t supposed to talk strategy at all,” she laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully.

“We have a 6-hour flight, Beckett. It’s going to be a long 6 hours if we don’t talk.”

She smiled and took another sip of her champagne. “Some people sleep on a flight.”

“Are you one of those people?” he asked with a smile.

She shrugged. “Sometimes. Probably not this flight. I’ve got too much on my mind.”

He nodded, placing a hand over hers. “I’m here for whatever you want to talk about,” he offered her a smile. “Or we could just drink,” he joked.

“I think one glass will suffice,” she chuckled, stretching her legs out.

He smiled and squeezed her hand before releasing it. The surprise was evident on his face when she took his hand back in hers a moment later.

“Thanks for coming with me, Castle,” she said softly, offering him a smile and pulling their joined

hands back into her lap.

“Always,” he smiled, stretching his legs out to get comfortable as well.

xxxxx

“Is this what you call under the radar?” Beckett asked, gesturing to the red Ferrari they were currently in.

“In LA, this baby fits right in,” Castle insisted. “So what’s our first stop?”

“My hotel. It’s on Ventura Blvd.”

Castle shot her a look. “That’s all the way in the Valley. How are we supposed to work together if you’re an hour away?”

“Castle, we weren’t supposed to work together at all,” she reminded him.

He shrugged. “Okay, well the studio comped me a two-bedroom suite at a 4-star hotel. You just stay with me,” he stated as though it were a no-brainer.

She snorted a laugh. “Yeah right!”

“What?” he asked, turning to look at her. “You’ll have your own room.”

“No! I am not staying with you!” she insisted, biting back another laugh.

He raised an eyebrow, almost in a challenge. “Worried you can’t control yourself when we’re alone together?”

Her smile faltered only slightly. It was a legitimate concern of hers, yes, considering the current state of their relationship and how close they currently were to crossing the line between friends and lovers…but she wasn’t going to admit that to him. “Actually, it’s not me that I’m worried about,” she replied.

“I assure you, Detective, my intentions are pure,” he insisted as the light they were stopped at turned green. He paused a moment before continuing. “Need I remind you that the last two times we were alone together, you were the one who kissed me,” he commented nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road.

She tugged her lower lip between her teeth. She couldn’t even deny that. Even though it had been months ago and she hadn’t ended her relationship with Josh at the time, she’d still been the one to kiss him on Valentine’s Day over wine in his loft. And now that they were both single,

she hadn’t been able to resist kissing him when they’d gone out 3 weeks ago after he’d been so jealous of Alex Conrad.

Yes, they were here to work…at least she was…but she also couldn’t deny the attraction and connection that pulled them together, couldn’t deny that they were one “Yes” from her away from becoming romantic partners in addition to professional ones. Here to work or not, she knew it was a very real possibility that when they were alone together she would give into the temptation that was her desire to be with him. Simply having her own bedroom didn’t guarantee she wouldn’t seek him out in the middle of the night without anything holding her back anymore.

“Fine, I’ll stay with you,” she finally agreed. She knew herself well enough to know there was a very real possibility she would find herself in his bed…or invite him into hers…before they left LA. She only hoped she was ready for everything that entailed. Because once they crossed that last line between them, she knew there would be no going back. If she messed it all up, if they crashed and burned, she would lose him forever…and she wasn’t sure that was a loss from which she’d recover.

xxxxx

“We’re so happy to have you back, Mr. Castle,” Maurice the concierge smiled. “I’ve taken the liberty of setting up the suite just the way you like it.”

“Thank you,” Castle returned the man’s smile.

“And I’ve scheduled a couple’s massage at 7,” Maurice added.

Beckett paused looking around the suite for a moment to cut Castle a look. “Pure, huh?”

Castle’s eyes widened slightly. “Uh, Maurice, you can cancel the couple’s massage. We’re actually here to work, so we won’t be needing that tonight.” He didn’t ask for the champagne or flowers to be removed, however.

Maurice nodded. “Very good, Sir.”

Castle handed the bellhop who handled their luggage a tip and offered Maurice one as well. “Thank you, Maurice.” He followed the men out and closed the double doors behind them. “The last time I was here, I brought this Parisian supermodel, so he…” he trailed off when he caught the look Beckett shot him and he realized bringing up the fact that he’d been with other women here was probably not the best idea considering they were working toward a relationship with each other. “You know, that is not important. Would you like to choose your bedroom?”

She rolled her eyes and went to her carry-on to get her jacket. “No, I would like to start the investigation.”

“But we haven’t even ordered room service yet,” Castle pointed out.

“Castle, I’m not here for room service, I’m here for justice,” she stated, heading for the doors.

“Can’t we have both?” Castle called as he followed her. “Wow. In LA for all of a minute and already she’s spouting cheesy movie dialogue. Must be something in the air.”

xxxxx

“Picture this: a gullible young actress, desperate to make a name for herself. She meets our mastermind at a club. He needs a pretty girl to help him get the voice code. He tells Violet he’s a producer, promises to make her famous if she helps him play a practical joke on a friend,” Castle theorizes. He turns to face Beckett on the couch in the living room area of their suite.

Beckett turns a little more facing him, her elbow resting on the back of the couch with her head resting on her hand. The bottle of champagne from earlier is opened and mostly empty on the coffee table in front of them. “She doesn’t even realize that she’s participating in a crime until afterwards. She can’t call the cops, so she contacts Royce.”

“But then, our Mr. McCauley finds out,” Castle continues to build theory with her.

“And Royce tries to change the game. He goes to New York; home-field advantage. Classic. Classic Royce,” Beckett smiled slightly. “I was so in awe of him, Castle when I first met him. I just hung on his every word. And then later, I realized he was just making up stories to mess with me,” she gave a soft laugh, but her smile faded. “I can’t believe that I’m never gonna see him again.”

He studied her for a moment, shifting just a little closer. “You know what I first thought when I met you?” he asked her.

She turned her attention back to him. “Mm?” she hummed the question.

“That you were a mystery I was never gonna solve. Even now, after spending all this time with you, I’m still amazed at the depths of your strength…your heart…” he trailed off as the faintest smile teased his lips, “and your hotness.”

She looked down for a moment and then met his smile with one of her own. “You’re not so bad yourself, Castle.”

Their eyes locked and they held each other’s gaze. He wanted to kiss her…so badly. Under any other circumstance, he would have. But she was vulnerable now. She was dealing with her grief over the loss of her friend whom he knew she cared for deeply. He wouldn’t be the guy who took

advantage of that. He cared too much about her to be the guy who did that to her. If there was a move to be made, she was going to have to be the one to initiate it.

“I should go. It’s late,” Beckett stood, finally breaking the moment between them as she headed for her bedroom door.

“Kate…”

“Goodnight, Castle,” she stated, stepping inside and closing the door. She leaned against it, running her hands over her face and through her hair. A hundred thoughts were running through her mind: She should have kissed him. Why was she running? How badly she wanted to kiss him. How badly she wanted to lose herself in his arms tonight, let him make her forget everything else but him and the way she knew he would make her feel. But was that fair to him to do it this way? Was it fair to either of them to spend their first night together under these circumstances? Was she ready to fully embrace the depth of her feelings for him? Was she ready to embrace the depth of his feelings for her?

Her hand lingered over the door handle for another moment as she hesitated. The words from Royce’s letter echoed in her mind: And now for the hard part, kid. It’s clear that you and Castle have something real. And you’re fighting it. But trust me, putting the job ahead of your heart is a mistake. Risking our hearts is why we’re alive. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder, if only. A moment later, she’d made her decision. She wanted the comfort he would provide. She wanted to touch him, to taste him, to feel him. She just wanted him. She opened the door and met his eyes as he stood from the couch. “Castle…” she breathed from her doorway.

He wordlessly approached her, coming to stand in front of her in her doorway. In her bare feet, she was a good 5 or 6 inches shorter than him, and his eyes were soft as he looked at her. “Kate…” he murmured, unable to resist reaching out to run his fingers gently across her cheek.

Her hands moved to his chest and her eyes closed as she leaned into his touch. Her fingers tightened in his shirt and she pulled him closer against her, opening her eyes to look at his lips.

He leaned down, his lips stopping just before they touched hers. Swallowing hard, he had to make sure. “Kate, I don’t want to take advantage of you,” he murmured in a whisper.

Her nose nuzzled his, her lips moving the tiniest bit closer until they were only a hair’s width apart and she could feel his breath tickling her lips. “You’re not…” she breathed, her lips barely brushing his as she spoke. “If we hadn’t been so busy the past few weeks, this would have already happened…”

He swallowed hard again. She was making it so damn hard to think straight, to try to be the

gentleman. “I thought you wanted to wait…”

The last words from Royce played over again in her head. The last thing you want is to look back on your life and wonder, if only. “I’m done waiting,” she told him.

“You won’t regret this in the morning?” he had to ask her. Because he wouldn’t be able to handle it if she did.

“No regrets,” she promised, unable to take it anymore and closing the almost invisible distance between their lips with a slow kiss. She stepped back from him into her room a few moments later, her lower lip tugged between her teeth and the look in her eyes inviting, imploring him to follow her.

He was powerless to resist her now, and he knew it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Opening them a second later, he followed her into her bedroom and closed the door behind him.

xxxxx

IT’S ABOUT TO GET STEAMY

SKIP THIS PART IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ SEXY TIMES

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Her eyes never left his as he approached her. She took the final step toward him necessary to close the distance between them again and took his face in her hands. This time when she kissed him, the dam broke; her feelings for him, their physical attraction to each other, the past two+ years…everything poured into her kiss. She was drowning in his kiss, in him, and for once she didn’t care.

Her tongue ravaged his mouth, and he let her take what she needed, what she wanted from him while his hands gripped her hips and pulled her closer. One hand slowly ran up her back and curled into her hair, deepening the kiss until both needed some oxygen. His mouth ran along her jaw to her neck and finally along her throat, grazing her skin lightly with his teeth as he tasted her.

Her hands moved to his plaid button-up shirt and shoved it over his shoulders, causing him to release his hold on her long enough to yank his arms free from it. She grabbed his t-shirt and tugged it over his head as well, her eyes and fingers traveling the lines of muscle across and down his now bare chest appreciatively. Her lips grazed against the hollow of his neck where it met his chest, her tongue darting out to taste his skin. Her arms moved around him, her fingers sliding up the muscles of his back as she pressed an open-mouth kiss to his chest, smiling against his skin at the low groan that escaped his throat.

When he felt her fingers at his belt before he’d even had the chance to get her shirt off her, he

caught her wrists and brought them to his lips for a gentle kiss. “Not so fast,” he murmured with a smile. He caught her playful look and returned it with one of his own before grabbing the hem of her shirt and bringing it up and over her head. His eyes darkened at the exposed skin, the black lace of her bra a stark contrast against her tanned skin. His fingers gently traced along the length of her bra strap at her shoulder as he circled behind her.

The feel of his lips on her shoulder and then her neck as he pushed her hair aside drew a gasp from her lips. His mouth lightly danced along the curve of her neck as his fingers unclasped her bra. She leaned back against him as his hands slowly slid the straps down her arms until the piece fell from her body to the floor. Her head fell back against his shoulder and her eyes closed as his lips slid to her shoulder, one hand flattening against her stomach to hold her against him, the other moving to her breast, eliciting a soft moan from her lips.

He bit her shoulder gently as he squeezed her breast. One of her hands moved to cover his on her breast, and her other moved to his head, pulling him into a smoldering kiss. As she tugged his lip between her teeth and bit gently, the hand on her stomach slid lower, dipping inside her pants, his fingers lightly tracing along her underwear. She moaned her approval into his mouth and released her grip on his hand to guide the hand in her pants lower until she could press his fingers into the heat between her legs.

Even through her panties, he could feel her arousal, causing him to groan against her lips. “Kate…” he breathed, his mouth moving to her neck as his fingers slipped past the barrier of her underwear to slide between her legs. The feel of his touch where she was already so ready for him caused her hips to buck against his hand and nearly sent her spiraling. The hand still joined with his on her breast flexed and squeezed, while her hand that had guided his into her pants gripped his hip, her fingers curling in his belt loops.

He continued to work her up with his fingers at her core, his lips gently sucking and nipping at her skin, and his other hand on her breast, alternating between massaging and rolling her nipple between his fingers. It wasn’t long before he had her a whimpering mess, his name escaping her lips in a breathless moan as she crashed over the edge. His fingers continued to work her through her orgasm until she couldn’t take it anymore and gripped his forearm, tugging his hand away. He smirked against her skin, moving his hand to her stomach to hold her against him as she recovered, his lips softly caressing her skin.

Once she regained her senses, she turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and meeting his smile with one of her own. “Hi,” she murmured, kissing him slowly.

“Hi,” he returned, resting his forehead against hers. He slowly walked her back toward the bed, easing her back and lowering her down on it when her legs hit the edge. He moved over her, capturing her mouth with his in a passionate kiss, his tongue slowly stroking hers. This time when he felt her fingers slide down his chest to his belt, he didn’t stop her.

She easily unfastened his belt and the button on his pants, and then slowly slid the zipper down. Her fingers teased just underneath the waistband of his boxers before her hands moved to his hips. She pushed both his jeans and boxers over his hips, her hands sliding around to grab his ass, squeezing the ample flesh as she pulled him into the cradle of her thighs. “Get them off…” she murmured, her lips brushing against his jaw as she pushed them as far down as she could.

He did as he was told, standing and removing his last remaining clothing. She pushed up to her elbows to watch, her eyes darkening as she took in the sight of him for the first time. She sat up, her hands moving to his hips as she pulled him to stand in front of her.

“Kate…you don’t have to…” he started.

“I know,” she met his eyes with a smile. She knew he would never expect or even ask her to do what she was about to do. But she wanted him, wanted all of him; she had for awhile. “I want to taste you.”

Her lips pressed a soft kiss to his stomach, glancing up at him as one hand moved to his length, her slender fingers stroking him slowly. She smirked against his skin at the low groan and moved her mouth to his hip, nipping playfully before blazing a trail of open mouth kisses across his skin as she worked her mouth further down. She looked up at him watching her and saw his eyes close as she ran her tongue the length of him before taking him in her mouth and sucking gently.

It took all of his willpower not to buck his hips into her mouth, but he somehow managed. He forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching her, one hand tangling in her hair…not to guide her movement, but to simply caress her. After a few moments, he hand to stop her. “Kate…” he managed to choke out her name on a strangled moan, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “I can’t…you’ve got to stop…or it’s going to be over to soon…” he managed to get out, trying to force his breathing to return to normal.

She raised an eyebrow, slightly amused as she leaned back on her elbows. He moved with her, leaning down to kiss her again, moaning against her lips as her tongue sensually tangoed with his. His hands gripped her leggings and pulled them down her legs slowly, standing to toss them aside as she shifted to push herself up on the bed, resting her head on the pillows.

He crawled up the bed to her with a grin, dropping soft kisses to the inside of her knee and trailing his tongue along the skin of her thigh. When he reached her underwear, he paused and looked up at her. “You’re sure?” he asked her again.

She pushed up on her elbows so she could gently caress his face. “Make love to me, Rick…” she told him softly, pulling him to her for a slow, deep kiss as she slid her body against his.

He groaned, wrapping her in his arms as he deepened the kiss. When he finally broke away, he pushed up to his knees and hooked his fingers in her panties, drawing them down her legs slowly before dropping them to the floor to the side of the bed. He swallowed hard as his eyes traveled over her body slowly. “You’re beautiful, Kate…” he murmured in awe. His hand slowly, lightly ran up her thigh as he settled between her legs.

He trailed kisses across her stomach before getting sidetracked by the tattoo on her hip, which she’d fully expected, tracing the outline with his tongue. His mouth continued it’s path, until his tongue dipped inside her, finally tasting her, and he knew at that moment he was addicted. Each touch of his fingers to her skin, each press of his lips, each stroke of his tongue was reverent, as though her body was a temple at which he was worshiping. He took his time as he worked her up, enjoying the taste of her, enjoying the soft moans and whimpers of pleasure as he explored her body, learning the way she liked to be touched so intimately.

It wasn’t long before she was moaning his name as she came, her fingers clenching in the comforter on the bed. He gently but firmly held her hips in place as mouth continued to work her through her orgasm, and then suck on her bundle of nerves until she quickly came undone again, his name falling from her lips in a strangled scream. Only when her fingers curled in his hair and pulled him away slightly did he move his mouth to her hip, biting enough to leave a mark and soothing it with his tongue.

His kisses were slow and gentle as they moved back up her body, giving her time to recover. It wasn’t until he was settled in the cradle of her thighs with her hips rocking against his as they kissed passionately that he realized–he didn’t have protection on him. “Kate…” he pulled away breathlessly. “I didn’t bring…I mean, I didn’t expect that we would…I don’t have condoms…”

“Neither do I…You don’t carry one in your wallet?”

“Not if I don’t think I’m going to need it…which I didn’t…because we weren’t together…and I did not come out here with the intention of sleeping with you…” he murmured, moving to shift off her.

She gently stopped him, her fingertips lightly caressing his jaw. “Castle, it’s okay,” she assured him softly, pressing a kiss to his chin. “I’m clean. And I’m on birth control. So I’m good without one if you are.” He was the only man she would ever consider doing this with, and only because she trusted him implicitly. She'd never even had unprotected sex with Josh. There was no one she trusted the way she trusted Castle.

He stared at her for a moment, because he knew the level of trust that she was putting in him with that statement, with that action. “I’m clean…” he promised. “You’re…you’re really sure about this, Kate? Because I can’t promise you I’ll be able to pull out before I…”

She interrupted him with a kiss. “I’m sure. I trust you completely, Rick…”

This time it was him who cut off her words with a deep kiss. I love you, was right on the tip of his tongue to say, but he didn’t dare say it now. He’d told her before…on more than one occasion, admittedly not always at the best moment. The last thing he wanted was to send her running now if she wasn’t ready to hear those words from him again. Instead, he’d show her.

One of his hands found hers and he laced their fingers, pushing their joined hands above her head. His other hand lightly caressed her thigh and shifted, meeting her eyes as he slowly slid inside her. She gasped softly, and his forehead rested against hers as they both took a moment to savor the connection.

Her hand squeezed his and her free hand caressed his cheek as her lips met his again in a tender kiss. One of her legs hooked over his hip, pulling him in closer, and a soft moan escaped her throat. Another moan escaped, this time from each of them, as she rocked her hips against his to get him to move.

They exchanged breathless kisses, gentle caresses, soft moans as their bodies moved together almost seamlessly, meeting each other perfectly, each knowing what the other needed or wanted as though they were in a well-choreographed dance and not coming together for the first time.

As he felt his climax approaching, he released her hand and shifted so that he had a deeper angle. “Kate…I’m close…” he warned dropping his mouth to her neck.

Her lips moved to his ear as her hands slid down his back, her nails raking across his skin. “Let go with me…inside me…” she panted breathlessly, tugging on his ear with her teeth as her legs pulled him in closer to reinforce her words.

Her breathless moans and the way she moved her body with his, the way her legs tightened around his waist, was enough to push him over the edge and pull her with him. He thrust a few more times until he was completely spent, and dropped down, rolling them so she was on top of him.

xxxxx

SEXY TIMES IS OVER

IT IS SAFE TO READ AGAIN

EVERYTHING BELOW IS RATED T

They stayed wrapped in each other's arms silently, both catching their breath. He caught her hand drawing patterns on his chest after a few minutes and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

“You were right…I had no idea,” he admitted with a grin.

She laughed softly and pushed herself up on his chest to look at him. “You still don’t,” she grinned. Seeing his look, she kissed him as she laughed again. “That was just a preview,” she murmured against his lips before pushing herself up off the bed. “Be right back,” she promised, pressing one last kiss to his lips before disappearing into the bathroom.

When she returned, he’d gotten under the covers and made no attempt to hide his enjoyment in the fact that she hadn’t bothered to put any of her clothes…or his…back on to cover up. She met his gaze with an amused arch of her eyebrow, turning the lights off on her way back to bed. “Staring is still creepy, bud.”

He chuckled as she slipped back into bed beside him. “Can’t help it,” he shrugged, turning on his side to look at her. “I told you before…I’m still amazed at your hotness.” He couldn’t help but reach out and let his fingers trace along her curves.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she echoed her own words from earlier, sliding closer to kiss him. She grinned against his lips as he deepened the kiss and threw her leg over his hips, quickly straddling him, running her hands over his chest as she stared down at him. “You wanna find out what you really had no idea about?” she asked in a husky tone, already sliding her body sinfully against his as she bit her lower lip.

He swallowed hard, his hands moving to her thighs. “Yes, please,” he managed to choke out. The way she was moving her body against his was similar to every fantasy and wet dream he’d had about her since that undercover date in the club back in February. Only now it was real…she was really here, it was really her body moving against his, and it was better than any fantasy.

She leaned down to kiss him with a wicked grin. “Your safe word still apples?” she purred against his lips.

All he could do was nod.

xxxxx

Okay, I am aware this is only the first half of the LA episode. I went a little crazy here…I told you guys it was a favorite of mine! And I am sorry, but you will have to wait until I return from vacation to get the chapter dealing with the second half of the episode. But I did make this a long one to tide you over in the meantime!

I really hope you enjoyed this one! And I look forward to reading all your comments for those who leave them!

[okaywolf]

wizard who permanently experiences the world a minute ahead of everyone else.

Written to the prompt by make-up-a-wizard cohost prompt account — wizard who permanently experiences the world a minute ahead of everyone else.

When I saw this prompt, I thought “damn, I’ve kinda done that one”. There’s a text file on my computer named ‘Kitchen other timezone’ from 2016, it’s in a folder named ‘I really have to fucking organize this shit’.

Originally posted on cohost on April 1st, 2024.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There's a diminishing area of affect. The workshop is a full nineteen minutes ahead. The window of the kitchen that looks onto the path to the front door is just shy of five—this is very handy for a quick tidy and putting a kettle on whenever someone comes over. Aern had been flung through the workshop window by the initial explosion before the time fracture solidified, so they were only a minute ahead.

Everyone had been very concerned about the noise—even though there wasn't much apparent physical damage—but once Aern figured out what was wrong with themself, they had put up all the barricades and didn’t emerge from what was truly a quaint stone cottage if it weren't for the attached silo of a wizard tower until they could be handed something without dropping it and hold up a conversation without appearing to read minds. None of the tomes said a time fracture worked this way, but then it was a fracture in time.

It was all very handy whenever Aern wasn't prematurely grabbing things that weren't yet handed to them and responding to things before they were said. Aern now easily avoided the dangers of monster-filled woods and "assassination" attempts by rival wizards—a sort of game Aern had grown tired of in the last millennia. Similarly, trips to town went smoother when they could vacate a vicinity before a bothersome conversation or confrontation could even start—Aern was not the "village wizard" but they couldn't stop the village people from thinking it—they'd tried—and so there was always someone looking to ask or accuse or request something when they were in said village.

They did their best to keep village visits to a low, given the whole rival wizard assassination game potential for collateral damage.

Aern knew it wasn’t the village doctor at their door asking for advice—as wasn’t entirely uncommon—because the village doctor didn’t smell like sulfur. They had tidied and put on a kettle any ways. They had also sealed off their tower and put away any tomes and projects that had wandered out of the tower into the rest of the cottage.

Aern opened the door and greeted their guest with, “If you do anything to my house, you will regret it.”

“Damn.”

“Your travel spell still reeks.”

Basti reluctantly stepped inside. He had been planning on at least three avenues of catching Aern unaware—the assassination game was really a deadly surprise check if you were paying attention and keeping all your various magical guards up—but quickly stashed them for maybe a future attempt on maybe not even Aern. The cottage smells like his favourite tea and the rising suspicion in him—whose baseline has kept Basti alive through many a century—keeps a light crackle under the fingertips of the hand that doesn’t accept a mug.

Despite Basti participating perhaps too eagerly in the assassination game, he and Aern had a sort of gentle actual rivalry due to the overlap in their fields of study and Basti being absolutely determined that he was an even match for Aern despite the experience gap. When Basti wasn’t caught up trying to prove he was an even match in the very lethal ways the assassination game permitted, the two of them had great discussions about theory and discovery.

It takes most of an hour for Basti to catch on to Aern’s particular predicament.

"How are you that old but still fuck up a simple bottled time spell?"

"I don't need this from you right now," Aern wheezed. They were lying on the many rugs that made the cold floor of the cottage bearable after easily deflecting everything less physical Basti had thrown at them only to be hit in the chest by Basti’s open palm and the crackling force under his fingertips.

Basti knows there are at least a dozen safeguards and security measures in the cottage that will do anything from disarm him to disassemble him if he does anything else. He’s currently fighting off the force that’s working on teleporting him far from here into the middle of a very miserable swamp. He’s doing this while he crouches next to Aern, setting his empty mug down next to their head. “Got you.”

Aern’s hand is already in place to hold the side of Basti’s face when he turns just slightly. The touch makes Basti freeze. “Nuh uh.”

In the middle of a very miserable swamp, Basti’s heart beats too hard, too fast, and too irregular. An instant ago he was sure he was about to have his entire existence rent asunder. An instant before that he’d been caught by just how nice it was to be held by Aern. The confusing mix of rivalry, deadly rivalry, and genuine peership in however Basti conceptualized Aern churned with a new addition that Basti was livid about.

On the floor of cottage, literally tired of games and of talking to people who weren’t tomes, and entirely oblivious to the source of Basti’s stomping rage in a very miserable swamp, Aern takes a nap.

[pleasantlyinsincere]

John and Julian (and Cyn) through the '70s

Last edited on 8 October 2023. All edits listed at the end. Text in between [ ] are my thoughts.

Since John and Yoko had moved into Tittenhurst in August '69 Julian often spend weekends with them there.

"And then I'd live for the weekends I spent with my dad and his new love Yoko at Ascot. My feeling toward their relationship was helped by the way I was treated. I was given incredibly expansive toys to play with and there was always something happening." Julian, 1982

Cynthia describes that she was relieved that Julian got on reasonably well with Yoko, but she was concerned by some of the more bizarre stories of what was going on at Tittenhurst park.

"One of the hardest aspects of letting Julian visit John was accepting that Yoko would presumably look after him when he was there. I didn't know what he would make of her cool manner. But in fact he seemed fine with it, and perhaps it was better for him to have a rather distant step-mother than one who was all over him. He never told me that she was unkind in any way, which was a relief. After that first weekend Peter rang regularly to arrange visits for Julian. Much to my amusement Julian had started to call Yoko Hokey-Cokey." Cynthia Lennon: John, p.314

Photos of Julian at Tittenhurst in 31 January 1970. [John and Yoko only returned from Denmark January 27th, so Julian came to see them the first weekend back.]

Rest of the timeline including pics, quotes and audio behind the cut because it got ridiculously long.

23 February 1970

An article is published in the Evening Post talking about Julian and Kyoko. It mentions that in 1969 there were four months that father and son didn't get to see each other and also spent Christmas apart.

Some quotes from John:

"Julian, last time I saw him, was a bit too protected, like all kids are. It took him two weeks to unwind, when he was last with us." "I'm not a daddy with a set of bricks to play with. When I'm with the kids, they just come along with me and be with me, whatever I'm doing." Link to article

March 1970

Over the New Year John and Yoko had spent some weeks in Denmark with Tony Cox, his new partner and Kyoko. That arrangement had worked quite well and it seems it motivated John and Yoko to try to get closer with Cynthia and Roberto also. It seems in the end not much came of these good intentions.

Up until now, when Julian came to spend the weekend at Tittenhurst Park, it was Les Anthony who shuttled him back and forth between his parents. However, shortly after their return from Denmark, John and Yoko made a conscious effort to spend time with Julian, Cynthia and her fiancé Roberto Bassanini. John later remarked: "All five of us ate together and we saw to it that the children see us all together. Maybe six of us will go on vacation with Kyoko. Julian, Cyn and Roberto, so that everyone feels secure. That's very important. In order to have peace, it's necessary to start inside the family." Lennonology, source L'Express [3/23/70]

Instead John and Yoko left for LA 23 April 1970 to undergo Primal Scream therapy with Janov. They stayed for almost five months in the US and returned to England 15 September 1970.

June 7th, 1970

While John and Yoko are in LA doing their therapy with Janov. One of the topics discussed was John's troubled relationship with his son.

The meeting, which Vivian Janov describes as 'a very strong emotional day for him,' had taken place in April, and John was making an effort to maintain communication with his son. From Los Angeles, John posted a card to Julian today: 'I'm sorry I haven't called or written much. I've been a little sick. We miss you a lot, and send you our love... won't be long till I see you'. Lennonology

After the return from the US in September Julian continued to regularly visit Tittenhurst. During those visits he usually played a lot with Les Anthonys four stepchildren, who at the time were also living on the estate.

"Once Dad had a little white shed built on an island in the middle of a lake on the grounds of the house. He had bought these little white amphi-cars that sped across the lake. The three of us all dressed in white to spend the day there. Crazy, but wonderful."Julian, 1982

In this interview Julian describes going over to Tittenhurst just to be an idiot with his dad but also how scary the big house and his bedroom situation could be to him at night.

[The floorplan of Tittenhurst (LINK) actually shows Julian's room just across the hallway from John and Yoko's room but half a stairway down. There's not really a closer bedroom and he may have been put there, so that he has his own bathroom. It being so far away, small (somewhere he or Cynthia call the room a closet) and scary are after all the memories from a child's point of view.]

For the most part the visitation arrangements seemed to have continued in 1971. In the summer, when John and Yoko were filming for the imagine documentary, Julian can be seen roaming the property with his friends.

Saturday, July 17th, 1971 With the cameras rolling, John and Yoko roamed the Tittenhurst Park grounds in a golf cart with Jill Johnston. As promised, Blue Pools delivered the new lake house, and the Lennons spotted location. More footage was taken of the house under construction, the Lennons and Johnston rowing on the lake, and Julian and the neighbor children reading excerpts from Grapefruit on camera and running amok in the fields. Lennonology

Lennonology

Julian Lennon: Tittenhurst was this enormous palace-like place with 99 acres, golf-cart buggies, a lake, a little island in the middle of the lake. It was like a house of fun. It was wonderful. I loved the place.

LINK to a longer version of the quote but in German. Not adding much just both John and Julian sharing a mutual love for Dr. Pepper at the time, playing the mellotron and the children daring each other to enter a 'haunted' building on the property.

It's also at Tittenhurst that Julian meets May Pang, who had started working for John and Yoko as an assistant through ABKCO in NY and had come to England as a messenger to bring film rolls.

"There were a lot of great moments at Tittenhurst that I do fondly remember, you know, giggling and laughing with Dad. And, as they say, shooting the shit. But it was difficult to know, you think, 'OK, well, is this going to stay? Is this what it's going to be, now? Can I count on this? Can I be here next weekend or the weekend after? Is that going to happen?' That was one of the, obviously, the hardest pill to swallow, was the constant change. You know, you thought things were going to settle down, but they just never quite did." Julian, 2018

"I lived an ideal life between then [Cyn and Roberto] and John and Yoko, but it all ended when Cynthia's marriage broke up and Dad and Yoko moved to the States." Julian, 1982

The big cut happens when on August 12th 1971 John and Yoko leave for NY and take up residence in the St. Regis Hotel.

At first their plan was to search for Kyoko, so that she too could come for visits at Tittenhurst like Julian. In September John and Yoko appeared on the Dick Cavett show and briefly talked about their wish that both their children could be with them.

Maybe a Christmas present:

Christie's auction

[In her Lost Weekend doc, May talks about Julian calling and Yoko not allowing her to put the call through to John. She says at that point they hadn't spoken for a couple of years. Then a few weeks later she is in the audience for George Harrison's appearance on Dick Cavett. The show is aired in November '71, so if there is anything to her anecdote she may mean they hadn't seen each other for two months instead of two years.]

26 May '72

"Lennon admits that he is scared to say too much publicly about the case, because it was the initial publicity that had spurred Cox to vanish. He talks about how hard it is for Ono to see pictures of her daughter: I have to hide them. Asked about his own son, Julian, he says: I don't have that 'where the hell is he?' bit. But he reveals that when they were in England, and Julian visited them every weekend, it was difficult for Ono to be with him when her own daughter wasn't there: It was killing her." source

28 May '72

Cynthia quoted in a Sunday paper: "John hasn't seen Julian since he went to America. It is rather a long time. He seems to be occupied with Yoko's daughter now. He does write to Julian, just normal letters, asking how he is getting on at school and things like that. And he sends him presents. He sent him a toy truck at Christmas. I don't keep in touch with John anymore. It's purely through Julian that we keep in contact. Julian loves his father. He follows his career in the newspapers. He goes to a private boys' school where people don't bother who he is. He went to a state school but he had problems there."

14 June '72

Cyn's complaints are repeated in the LA times, where it said that John hadn't seen Julian in eight months. "He seems to be occupied with Yoko's daughter now."

On 22 September '73 John and May leave for LA and only a few days later on 2 October '73 it is reported in the newspaper that Cyn separated from Roberto Bassanini.

Cynthia gave some interviews on her recent separation and the fact that she and Julian moved back to Hoylake, where Julian goes to private school.

"Unhappily Julian misses his father, which is only natural. We only hear from John at Christmas and when the birthdays come around." 7 October '73, Sunday Mirror

"Julian is always asking after him but of course John is in America now. It's been hard for him not seeing John for several years. This sort of thing is naturally upsetting for a child." 7 October '73, Sunday People

According to May's book, while John had broken up with her, she went to the Dakota to be with Yoko. Yoko there told her that she had decided it was time for Julian to come for a visit and May should at least reunite with John for that period to help him with it. May agreed to go back to John for two weeks, but it ends up being more like a year.

Christmas gift '73

To Julian from Daddy Christmas 1973

[Julian has sold an NFT of the black guitar. LINK ]

Shortly after Christmas '73 Julian and Cyn travel to LA to spend his school holidays with his father. They stay at least until the Happy Days taping they visit together on 5 February '74.

During the over a month long visit May writes, that they went to Disneyland three times and had brunch together the first morning. Meanwhile John is still having some wild times. Since Julian is staying with Cynthia, he goes out with May. The Kotex incident and nearly killing Jesse Ed Davis happen at the same time of this visit. May also places Cynthia asking John to have another child together during this trip.

As the visit ends May makes John promise to call Julian regularly.

"It is the right thing to do. I promise you, Fung Yee." He was silent for a while, then John said suddenly, "I really would like to keep in touch with me son." May Pang, Loving John p.168

Julian too, took a lot of positive out of the meetings around this time.

"Mum and I flew out to the States and stayed at the Beverly Hills Hotel. At least Mum did, I spend every minute of every day with my Dad and Yoko. " Julian, 1982

In later recollections Julian correctly puts the first visit in the time-frame that John was with May.

“Dad and I got on a great deal better than,” recalls Julian. “We had a lot of fun, laughed a lot and had a great time in general when he was with May Pang.” Julian in The Times, June 13 2009

May Pang: Loving John. About this visit and how it was set up.

In April 74 Julian sends a Thank you tape to John and Yoko for his birthday gift. Even though John is with May at this time, the present it seems was sent from the married couple.

The present in question according to Julian was a guitar, decorated with a mirror, writing and other stuff:

John writes to Cyn 22 June '74 a typed letter asking about Julian's holiday plans. Interestingly as the return address he gives the Dakota. He wants to send May to bring Julian.

19/20-25 July 1974 Instead of being collected by May, Julian sails with Elton John, Tony King, and Cyn per boat from Southampton to New York.

[In her book Cynthia wrongly remembers this as her first visit with John in the US. She also claims this visit was completely her initiative, which as proven by the letter wasn't the case. The whole anecdote is interesting however because she says that it was never the plan to stay with Julian, John and May but stay in NY with Jenny Boyd. Jenny apparently wasn't told about that plan, because in the end she wasn't there to home Cynthia. (May on the other hand remembers that Cynthia was staying with friends but they left without her and she was lonely, so she ended up coming with them.) In the end (and to John probably rightly or wrongly suspiciously) what was planned as just a trip for Julian with his dad turned into Cynthia coming along most of the time.]

Cynthia'a account about how this meeting was set-up and why she was with them during the trip.

Tony King in The Tastemaker simply writes: “John Lennon wanted to see his son, so I took Julian and John’s ex-wife Cynthia along with me.”

August 6th '74

John, May, Cyn and Julian return to LA for John to record Goodnight Vienna with Ringo.

In the summer while working on Walls and Bridges Julian visits the studio. He records Ya Ya with his dad.

Little interview bit with Julian about being in the studio.

August 19th, 1974

John and May take a trip to Denver. Instead of coming with them Julian stays with Cyn in LA.

When the whole vacation is coming to a close, it is decided that Julian should come for another visit for Christmas. John is clear that he wants him to come alone.

Both May Pang and Cynthia wrote about this visit in their memoirs. [Cynthia is clearly mixing up and merging the first and second trip together in her recollection of it.]

Cynthia's account.

May's account.

December 19th, 1974

Julian, accompanied by Apple staffer Steve Brendell, arrived in NY on this day for Christmas with John and May. Mimi was also invited but declined to come.

While they were in NY Yoko also came by because she wanted to greet Julian.

John, May and Julian flew to Florida on December 22. Lennon said he accepted Levy's Florida invitation "because I was so worn out anyway" from back-to-back studio projects "that I didn't know what to do with my son Julian." John figured that at Disney World, "I could sort of sit in a room or something and Julian could play with Morris's kid." John's quotes are from his trial testimony Big Seven Music Corp, 75Civ, 1116; In Stan Soocher Baby You're a Rich Man, Suing the Beatles for Fun and Money

Until 29 December they spent time in Palm Beach and later returned to Orlando (Disney World).

During this visit, Julian was helpful in influencing John and George making up and the thus the dissolution agreement of the Beatles coming along.

Julian remembers his Christmas visit with John and May fondly: “My memories of that time with Dad and May are very clear - they were the happiest time I can remember with them.” Julian in The Times, June 13 2009

May Pang in Loving John on this visit.

Cynthia writes about this visit in her book.

Video from May Pang's Lost Weekend documentary. [She says Long Island but I guess it's Palm Beach.]

In early February 1975 John moves back into the Dakota and resumes his marriage with Yoko.

John gives an interview to SPIN magazine in early spring 1975. In it he is asked about his private life, his recent return to Yoko, what his relationship with May is like now, and also about Julian:

How about you as a father? How old is your son [Julian] now? He is 11 now. All I know is that you took him to Disneyworld … right? Yeah, that was hell. Disneyland was better, the first time, in L.A., I took him there. Because I went with a gang, and there were a few of us who were flying a little. But Disneyworld — I was there on the most crowded day of the year, around Christmas or something. Seeing him is good. What we do is irrelevant. I went through a period of, “What are we gonna do?” and all that crap. It doesn’t really matter. As long as he’s around. Cause I don’t see him that often. How is it for an 11-year-old boy to have John Lennon as a father? It must be hell. Does he talk about that to you? No, because he is a Beatle fan. I mean, what do you expect?? I think he likes Paul better than me … I have the funny feeling he wishes Paul was his dad. But unfortunately he got me … It must be hard to be son of anybody. He is a bright kid and he’s into music. I didn’t encourage him, but he’s already got a band in school. But they sing rock’n’roll songs, ’cause their teacher is my age. So he teaches them “Long Tall Sally” and a couple of Beatles numbers. He likes Barry White and he likes Gilbert O’ Sullivan. He likes Queen, though I haven’t heard them yet. He turns me on to music. I call him and he says, “Have you heard Queen?” and I say “No, what is it?” I’ve heard of them. I’ve seen the guy … the one who looks like Hitler playing a piano … Sparks? I’ve seen Sparks on American TV. So I call him and say, “Have you seen Sparks? Hitler on the piano?” and he says, “No. They are alright. But have you seen Queen?” and I say “What’s Queen?” and then he tells me. His age group is hipper to music … at 11 I was aware of music, but not too much.

Link to the SPIN interview

March 11th 1975

John is interviewed by Bob Harris on The Old Grey Whistle Test. He sends greetings to Julian, Mimi and the rest of his family in England.

30 July 1975

About Julian ... I'm lucky if I see/hear from him myself. She allowed him over here twice last year ... but insisted on coming herself! You can imagine how thrilling that was ... she thought she could walk back in coz I wasn't with yoko!! Now we're back together again she stops him phoning me ... which he did a lot last year ... once a week. He's a bright little boy ... a bit 'sneaky' like his dad ... but he's gonna need that to survive his mother! Our relationship is pretty good --- he knows where I am and what my life is like ... he thinks of me a litlle too much in terms of 'money' etc ... which is what cyn and her mother (so called) have taught him (by example). He will run right to me when he's older ... we all run somewhere ... so I can wait. I got him well hooked on America ... which isan extraordinary place to say the least ... more on that in other letters perhaps. Oh yes the baby is due in November! Conceived feb 6. I tried to send Julia to see julian ... she was given the cold shoulder. When I get to England I'll show you them both. I would love to see yours. Letter to Leila, John Lennon Letters edited by Hunter Davies

After only five months being back with Yoko, communication with Julian has become more sporadic again. To his cousin Leila John complains that it's Cynthia keeping Julian from calling and about her tagging along the previous year. He also claims that he sent Julia to check in on Julian.

Julia Baird in a '83 interview confirms John's claim to Leila, that he hadn't heard from Julian and sent his little sister to check up on him.

"He kept asking in letters and on the phone, 'Please will you go and see Julian? Will you go and see Julian? Will you go see and see Julian? I haven't heard from Julian. His mother's got a cob on. Can you please go and see what's going on?' [...] Anyway eventually Aaron persuaded me that I should go. He was the one that when we got another letter asking, 'Have you been to see Julian yet?', he said, 'Look, he's never asked you to do anything. I think you should go.' [...] We went and John had given us the address, I didn't know where it was. And she seemed very embarrassed to see me. In fact so much so, that I backed off. I just said, 'Is Julian there, please? I'd like to see him.' And she said, 'No, he's gone out.' And I just said, 'Well goodbye, then.' It was very odd, very bizarre."

In her memoir Cyn doesn't mention John sending family to check on them but has an opposing recollection of who was unreachable:

"Initially he did: he phoned Julian as before, every few weeks. But the calls became less frequent, and all too often when Julian tried to phone John he couldn't get through. Yoko, or one of their employees, would tell him that John was sleeping or busy. Discouraged, Julian would wait weeks before trying again. " Cynthia Lennon, John p. 346

1 May '76

Cyn marries John Twist. John and Yoko send a telegram: "Congratulations, good luck, God bless the three of you, John and Yoko.”

According to Cynthia a few weeks later John calls her to invite Julian over for a visit during the school holidays to meet his brother. Yoko and John take the children for a holiday to Long Island. Cynthia also writes that Julian was mugged during his stay in NY, when John told him to go out by himself to buy a harmonica he wanted.

Photos of Julian with John and Yoko in summer 1976.

The only other person I have read mention the '76 visit is John Green in Dakota Days.

As the apartment at the Dakota grew more crowded, John retreated to the quieter and more spacious southern shore of Long Island. He took Sean with him and brought Julian over from Britain. Yoko kept him posted with a barrage of phone calls. "How goes the war, Charles?" he chimed into the receiver. "No casualties so far. How goes the peace?" "Great. It's absolutely beautiful. I've got a bit of sea and a bit of green and my sons, and even once in a while I even have my wife. You should come out here and get some of this. It's delightful." Dakota Days, p.97

[Aside from Cynthia's and Green's brief mentions of the trip, there is very little information on this NY visit. Even Robert Rosen, who supposedly read John's diaries multiple times, has nothing to say about this or the '77 visits. He even claims repeatedly that Julian and John first reunited in 1979 and hadn't seen each other for four years at that point.]

One of Julian's memories that most likely fits this visit:

Julian first played piano when he was thirteen, visiting his father and Yoko in Montauk, Long Island, after Sean, his half brother, was born. Their next-door neighbor had a piano, and Julian and his father went there one day. Lennon played a couple of tunes, then Julian asked, "Can I have a go?" Julian to Rolling Stone, 1985

Another one that Julian doesn't connect to a date but he remembers the new situation after his little brother was born:

[Yoko] was very loving towards me, even after their son Sean was born. Right at the beginning I felt a few pangs. They were there with their own son. Where did I fit in? But every time I went over Dad would lay on amazing treats, and Yoko was always loving towards me." Julian, 1982

In the same interview Julian also tells the story of his dad offering him a joint when he was about 12, so that might have also been the '76 visit, or the '74/'75 Christmas visit.

Cynthia claims she had trouble getting the money she was supposed to use for Julian's school. She asked John to split the trust fund, so that she can withdraw money from it easier. John agreed.

Cynthia publishes the letter in her book John and calls it "cautious, polite and to the point":

"I explained that, as he and Yoko were out of the country, it was impossibly difficult for me to get at Julian's money: 'Nothing can proceed without your signature - it means I'm forever overdrawn at the bank and have to wait on the convenience of your lawyers ... I want the best for Julian, and his standard of life shouldn't suffer because of lack of good management on your part, which has been happening since the fund was set up ... The money, instead of having doubled through good investment, is dwindling through lack of interest on your part ... It's just so important that this whole arrangement is sorted out without animosity or aggravation ... The way things are going Julian's financial prospects when he is 25 will be virtually nil and he is going to want to know why... It is one thing fighting for your rights but totally ridiculous fighting against your own son's interests, which is what seems to be happening.' "

[She says she ends the letter with thanking them for arranging the Concorde flight for Julian last summer. However according to wiki Concorde didn't fly to NYC until November 1977. (That years Christmas John and Yoko do indeed book a Concorde flight for Julian.) So I suspect that her supposed letter is specifically written for her book and not an actual document as the presentation suggests.]

In mid-October Cynthia gives an interview to Woman magazine that also got picked up in multiple newspapers. In it she talks about their relationship splitting after their first LSD trip, John getting upset with Julian when he couldn't eat with a knife, alleges that she was being followed by a private detective in Italy,...

A report on the article in the Burton Daily Mail from 19 October '76 also quotes Cynthia as saying:

"Since then their relationship has been beautiful," she says. "They talk a lot on the phone, there've been other visits and he's going again this year. I believe now that John is completely off all drugs, has been off them for years, otherwise I'd never let Julian go."

[He's going again this year indicates that there was another visit planned in 1976. If that happened or fell through, I haven't found anything about that.]

October 25th, 76

John sends Julian a postcard from Singapore. “What happened to ya?”

Even though the previous few months there was a visit and positive communication about the finances, Cynthia's decision to publicly complain in the papers angered John. He responded on November 26th 1976 with an open letter in the Daily Mail.

"Lennon tells first wife: Stop blaming Yoko," it read: "As you and I well know, our marriage was over long before the advent of LSD or Yoko Ono. Your memory is impaired to say the least. Your version of our first LSD trips is rather vague. You seem to have forgotten subsequent trips altogether. You also seem to have forgotten that only two years ago, while I was separated from Yoko Ono, you suddenly brought Julian to see me in Los Angeles after three years of silence. During that visit you didn't allow me to be alone with him for one moment. You even asked me to remarry you and give you another child 'for Julian's sake.' I politely told you no and that anyway I was still in love with Yoko. Finally, I don't blame you for wanting to get away from your Beatle past, but if you are serious about it you should try to avoid talking to and posing for magazines and newspapers. We did have some good years so dwell on them for a change."

Cynthia answers to the press after this, saying she doesn't want them to throw mud at each other and repeated "All I want to do is forget the Beatles and enjoy my present life". Still, only a few months later in 1977 she starts to write A Twist of Lennon (allegedly gleefully on a typewriter Yoko had gifted Julian). In her later memoir John she writes she was persuaded to do it by her husband John Twist who believed it would make their fortune.

Julian is sent to boarding school for that time. [In her book John Cynthia explicitly remembers that she moved to Ireland to write. However newspaper reports from the time suggest that the move happened later. So, probably Julian wasn't boarding at this time but those months in '78.]

At the same time communication between John and Julian was happening regularly and according to his diaries he got excited by the idea of buying Julian a keyboard.

July 14th, 1977

December 25th 1977

Julian comes by Concorde to stay at the Dakota during his school holidays.

[At the time of Julian's visit John and Yoko were still helped by the FBI to deal with the kidnapping threat and extortion attempt that had been going on for weeks and scared them badly. Also, Tony Cox had made contact by phone and agreed that Kyoko could visit for these holidays but then disappeared again and John would never hear again from Kyoko. I don't know if Julian was told any of this but I assume it probably was one of the more tense christmases.]

Going by Giuliano because neither Cynthia nor Robert Rosen mention this trip by Julian at all, John was very excited about Julian coming getting up early and baking bread for him. Julian gets close to Nishi and thereby brings forth John's competitive streak. John tries out the parental philosophy of wanting to spend time with Julian instead of giving him material goods, Julian goes 'oh, really' and John caves in. When he leaves John draws a portrait of Julian. Source

[Since Robert Rosen, who also read the diaries, doesn't even know about the '76 or '77 visits (and Giuliano too thinks they saw each other last at Disney World), they may not be the source for the above. I thought it might have been from Dakota Days but it's not. John Green mentions the '77 Christmas visit but says the family were going to Florida to meet Julian there because of the security threats. I think Green is confusing this and a later visit, so I will insert his account of what John told him on returning there.]

Julian stays most of January. Goes to see the musical The Magic Show with Yoko and the band Riff-Raff with John. 

In February of 1978 Cynthia and her husband sell their house and move away from Ruthin to Eire to avoid a 'wealth tax'. They leave Julian to be a boarder at his school. Cynthia and John Twist return in December, probably because they missed Julian.

April 1978

[It's not actually dated aside from being from 1978, I just assume the guitar was Julian's birthday gift.]

GIBSON Les Paul 25/50 guitar

"Dad gave me this special order rare model - it was always exciting to receive something like this from my dad. When I visited Dad we would sit down together and he would teach me a few chords and help me improve my technique." Julian in Beatles Memorabilia. The Julian Lennon Collection.

May 19th 1978

A conversation with Cyn and excerpts from her memoir A Twist of Lennon are published in News of the World.

John, Yoko and Sean are in Japan for their summer vacation. Through his London lawyers John tries to stop the publication of Cynthia's book as a serial in the News Of The World.

Tuesday, June 13th, 1978 Having been telephoned in Japan with the details of Cynthia's memoir excerpt in News Of The World, John instructed his solicitors to issue a High Court injunction in an effort to prevent the publication of a planned second installment. Frere Cholmeley & Co., Lennon's attorney in London, described the piece as 'a salacious and gribby little article,' although it was qualified with the statement: 'He does not deny that he held parties or took drugs, but he deplores the publication of intimate details of his married life.' Friday, June 16th, 1978 In the case of Lennon v. News Group Newspapers Ltd and Twist, Lord Denning rejected John's application for an injunction in London's High Court today, permitting the publication of more excerpts from A Twist Of Lennon. For his par, Denning was not impresses with John's argument that the article's publication was a breach of confidence of the marriage: 'I cannot see that either of these two parties have had much regard for the sanctity of marriage ... It seems to me as plain as can be that the relationship of these parties has ceases to be their own private affair. They themselves have put it into the public domain.' Sunday, June 18th, 1978 Having successfully defended the right to publish excerpts from A Twist Of Lennon, today's edition of News Of The World featured part two of their series: 'How Yoko stole my husband.' " Lennonology

When the book actually was released feelings turned out to be much softer than expected. Cyn ends her first memoir with the words :

I still feel very proud of the Beatles and their accomplishments. My life during that period was an education, an education I wouldn't have missed. It has left me feeling enriched, not embittered, enlightened not blinded. All I can think to conclude my story is to say, 'Thanks for the memories, and in the words of the I CHING, no blame.'"

After finishing reading his ex-wife's book, according to Robert Rosen, John was relieved and enjoyed the nostalgia. He said a prayer for Cyn: "Dear God, please show her The Way. Thank You. Thank You."

Postcard to Julian:

[I can't make out the date on the card. Julian's Beatles memorabilia book says it's from '71 but that's obviously wrong with Sean being included and Julian's Ruthin address on it. John makes the reference to being a farmer. They bought their farm in February 1978, so I put it that year. May be wrong though.]

March 21st 1979

Julian is supposed to join John, Sean and Yoko's visiting nieces in Palm Beach.

[John taking a photo of Julian in '79]

There are multiple, very different accounts for this visit, that includes Julian's 16th birthday celebration.

John bought Julian a motorcycle for his birthday.

At one point they went to Disney World, (which none of the accounts of the trip even mention), where this photo of Julian and Yoko's nieces was taken:

Accounts from:

Robert Rosen [Rosen writes that Dan Richter's children came for a visit. Correction: I said before that that because Dan wrote in his book that he never saw John again after 1974, it seemes unlikely to me that his kids would be sent out to John and Yoko five years later. However Dan Richter does confirm that in his interview on the Podcast Glass Onion: On John Lennon episode 16:

"My kids would go down, they had a place down in Palm Beach or whatever it was down in Florida. And they were there at Christmas and bring Julian and they would fly my kids down to play with Julian. And everybody, the sense we got was they were happy!"

This visit doesn't happen over Christmas but it sounds like he is talking about more than one occasion that happened and probably Christmas is one example. Could also mean that Rosen is mixing up the occasion for that anecdote.]

Cynthia Lennon

Fred Seaman

Geoffrey Giuliano

John Green [Green puts this actually to the '77 holiday visit, where he wrongly writes they went to Florida. I think (if his stories are to be believed at all) he confuses John's anger and disappointment upon return with this visit of Julian's. It also fits with being in Florida.]

[I recommend to read all of them. Lots of drama. I may one day make a comparison post between all the account because they are fascinatingly different.]

April 9th 1979

John writes to Mimi saying Julian would be welcome to live with them if he so chose but there had been no arrangements made.

Q: Did you ever plan to go and live with him [John] in New York? Julian: "When I was in my early teens we'd spoken on the phone about the possibility of me going to college over there. I think it was wishful thinking on both our parts because I felt uncomfortable about the situation and I believe he did, too." Hello! Magazine, 1995

April 25th 1979, Postcard to Julian from NY:

Julian declines to join his dad, Yoko and Sean for their family's yearly vacation in Japan.

[July 1979 In the context of getting one of his guitars Julian said that John bought him a Sony Walkman as a gift when they were brand-new. He puts around '73-'74. However according to wikipedia the Sony Walkman was first sold in July '79, so that present would have been sent to Julian around this time, maybe directly from Japan.]

December 1979

On 3rd-4th December there is a two part feature in the Daily Mail called "The Sons of the Beatles" on Julian and Zak.

"When I'm in New York, we go out quite a lot together round some of the art galleries, or to his house at Long Island. When we stay in we have musical jam sessions together singing out latest songs to each other. I still listen to Beatles music. Although I quite like some of my father's solo albums, I much prefer what he did with the Beatles." (quoted from Lennonology p. 508)

Also that month:

"More disturbing to John were the ongoing trials with Julian. The sullen teen continued to vex his father with his on-again, off-again plans to visit over Christmas. At first Julian said maybe, as long as they didn't go to Florida. Then it was a flat no, using school exams and a new girlfriend as an excuse. At the last minute he called saying he would come to New York only if he could bring a friend, but Yoko turned him down. As usual John didn't challenge her. Julian retaliated by sending his father a tabloid article about rock stars' sons, which focused on both him and Ringo's son Zak Starkey, and went into detail about the trials of being the offspring of a Beatle." Lennon in America by Giuliano p. 218

On the other hand John Green does write that Julian spent Christmas '79 with John, Yoko and Sean. He even says that Julian stayed until February. ("John stayed in the Palm Beach house until February, luxuriating in the sun and sea, forging new ties with Julian and delighting in rediscoveries of himself." p.229) [This can't be true however because John was definitely in NY for Christmas and New Years. John and Yoko did buy a house in Palm Beach late January however and were spotted there a few times in February. I can't find a mention of Julian being spotted with them, so it may or may not have happened. I do think between the two of them Giuliano's account is probably more accurate. The Daily Mail article he mentions of Zak and Julian had come out on 3 or 4 December, so that is also believable that it had come up in pre-christmas discussions. But of course it's possible that a visit happened anyway.]

1980

Julian called in February 1980 to set up another meeting with his dad. This time John denied him, surprisingly because he was worried about Julian's schooling. Through Cynthia he had learned that Julian was failing his O-levels, had started smoking, staying out at night drinking, had gotten in trouble with the police for setting up fires and racing through town on a dirt bike. "John just prayed that Julian didn't hurt himself." There is also continued conflict over money. John felt that Julian every time they spoke asked him for more money. "And though John continued to feel guilty about having abandoned Julian and Cynthia, he'd be damned if he was going to be like every other rich asshole father who'd abandoned his family and then used money as a poor substitute for love and companionship." source

In March 'A Twist of Lennon' gets its paperback release and new reviews are printed in the press.

Summer 1980

When John sat for a portrait painting with Sean for the artist Nancy Gosnell, he wondered if she could also do one of him and Julian from a photograph. He wanted to give him a father and son portrait for his birthday, according to Fred Seaman.

September 1980

PLAYBOY: "Your son, Julian, from your first marriage must be in his teens. Have you seen him over the years?" LENNON: "Well, Cyn got possession, or whatever you call it. I got rights to see him on his holidays and all that business, and at least there's an open line still going. It's not the best relationship between father and son, but it is there. He's 17 now. Julian and I will have a relationship in the future. Over the years, he's been able to see through the Beatle image and to see through the image that his mother will have given him, subconsciously or consciously. He's interested in girls and autobikes now. I'm just sort of a figure in the sky, but he's obliged to communicate with me, even when he probably doesn't want to." PLAYBOY: "You're being very honest about your feelings toward him to the point of saying that Sean is your first child. Are you concerned about hurting him?" LENNON: "I'm not going to lie to Julian. Ninety percent of the people on this planet, especially in the West, were born out of a bottle of whiskey on a Saturday night, and there was no intent to have children. So 90 percent of us... that includes everybody... were accidents. I don't know anybody who was a planned child. All of us were Saturday-night specials. Julian is in the majority, along with me and everybody else. Sean is a planned child, and therein lies the difference. I don't love Julian any less as a child. He's still my son, whether he came from a bottle of whiskey or because they didn't have pills in those days. He's here, he belongs to me and he always will."

Playboy: I was under the impression that you still weren't seeing Julian much. Lennon: Well, no, he's comin' here over shortly now. I see him whenever he get's off school. Playboy: Has it been hard for him to be John Lennon's kid? Lennon: Yeah, he has his own... Everybody has a cross to bear, and Julian has that cross, and he'll deal with it. He's a clever boy, and as he gets older we can communicate and he'll understand.

[I wasn't sure what upcoming visit John is referring to since I couldn't find one mentioned anywhere. However there is an article in the Daily Mirror from 8 October 1980 including interview passages with Cynthia that mentions Julian currently being in New York. So without any photographic evidence, he isn't in any of the birthday photos, or anecdotes about it, there still might be the possibility that there was a (pre-)birthday visit from Julian to John and Sean in 1980. Julian himself hasn't been completely consistent on when he last saw his Dad. He has said that his '79 birthday visit was their last meeting (which I think is most likely correct), but he also claimed that he was flying out regularly.]

"According to Cynthia, Julian, now 18, plays guitar better than his father. He has left school and is off to New York to stay with his famous dad." Link to the article

In an interview with Jonathan Cott on 5 December John reflects more on the troubles of being a Beatle's son and on how mistakes in his decision for Julian's schooling changed his outlook on his plans for Sean. [Julian had been going to private school since at least 1973.]

"[...] because he can't possibly be an average child, being the son of famous parents. I tried that game with my son Julian, sending him to a comprehensive working-class school, mixing with the people, but the people spat and shit on him, because he was famous, as people are wont to do. So his mother had to finally turn around and tell me to piss off: 'I'm sending him to a private school, the kid is suffering here.' "

Cynthia writes that by the end of 1980 Julian felt a breakthrough in his and his father's relationship. John played Julian songs from his new album over the phone, asking his opinions. source

Julian himself reflects on his and his dad's relationship by the time of his death like this:

"I know that dad's presence will be around for a long time. He was always joking, always sounded happy, which made me think more of him as a friend than a dad. My earliest memory of my father was when I was about three and he sang happy birthday to me. We were living at Weybridge, Surrey, and dad threw a birthday party for me and brought in a long cake shaped like a train and festooned with candles." Sunday Mirror, 5 April 1981

As early as 1982 negative feelings would influence Julian's memory, saying he didn't get to see his father for five years, that he only heard on Birthdays and Christmas from him or that after the first US visit it was again years before he got to go another time, when it was merely months.

"The Beatles sang 'All You Need Is Love' - and that is all I wanted from Dad. It is difficult to explain why I should feel so strongly, when we shared so little. Never once in all the years he lived in America did he even think about coming to see me. Apart from rare visits, I lived from birthdays to Christmas just to hear from him." Julian, 1982

[Those false memories/presentations may have been the result of his beginning break from Yoko around that time and the conflicts about money, or maybe his memories just adapted to the way it was talked about in his family.]

"It was more of one man to another than the usual father and son relationship, because he had been away from me a lot, and he said he realized that. I was just getting through to him and growing up myself and growing out of the silly giggling I did as a young teenager that really annoyed him, when Dad was killed." Julian quoted in Ray Coleman's John bio, pp.620

"Dad was such an influence in my life, it must have been hard on Mum. She'd do her best with presents at birthdays and Christmas, but I always waited for that special present that was bigger than anything else - from him. Yet he never sent anything spontaneously. He'd phone up and ask what I wanted, and it would arrive. I don't think he was trying to buy me in any way. It was just a chance for him to do something for me. He knew I wanted to be a musician and kept telling me to take a long time to get it right. He removed a lot of the stress I suppose other kids might feel. I didn't do very well at school. I don't think I'm dense, but I suppose I'm a bit lazy. There's only one thing I want - to know for sure that Dad loved me as much as I loved him. Or maybe to have him back." Julian, 1982

Edits: 29 April - December 1974 John trial quote added; September 1980 Playboy interview quote added 6 May - added Julian quote about relationship to his father by the time of his death 7 May - added Old Grey Whistle Test clip March 11th 1975 18 May - added info about 3-4 December '79 Daily Mail feature on Julian and Zak, added all the info I could find on any visits in John Green's Dakota Days and multiple notes on to those mentions. 20 May - added Cyn's quote for 28 May 1972. 23 June - added the Tittenhurst floorplan and the link to an extended quote from Julian about being there in German 8 July - added quote from 5 Dec 1980 to Jonathan Cott 20 July - added Julia Baird audio on trying to see Julian for John 1975 22 July - added info on a possible 1980 visit, 1973 interviews, 1976 info, 1980's quote 30 July - Spin interview '75 added, Cynthia quote from Burton Daily Mail '76 added 1 August - added bits from Julian's 1982 article throughout, transcribed some of the jpg quotes, so that I may add more photos, some photos added 4 August - correction in my comments about the likelihood of Dan Richter's children being with them in 1979 19 August - Box of Smile 8 October - Added some postcards, the guitars, reset some photographs because of the picture limit 12 November - Added the video clip from May Pang's doc

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....

How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....

Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀

I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....

It's totally fine, if not 😁😁

This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.

TMNT Oneshots

The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣

Donatello

Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.

He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.

He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.

Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.

All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.

“Casey?”

He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.

“Is that my cheeseburger?”

You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.

You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.

“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.

“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”

Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.

“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”

Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.

“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”

He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.

“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.

“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”

Leonardo

See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?

Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.

He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.

You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.

“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”

All the poor turtle could do was nod.

“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”

Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.

After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.

They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"

April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.

"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"

Raphael

Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.

He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-

“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”

Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.

“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”

Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”

The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.

“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”

“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”

You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”

He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.

“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”

Michelangelo

There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.

Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.

They weren’t at all ready for the scream.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”

And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”

And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.

“YES IT DO-”

So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.

These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁

-Mars 🌠

[astromechs]

keep whatever it is (that's compelling you on)

HERE IT IS, my matrix resurrections spec fic, completed and in under the wire before the trailer! i think i'm ready to quit fussing over this, and i'm really excited to get it out into the world!

also here on ao3!

01.

Every single morning, Thomas A. Anderson is jolted awake at approximately 8:15 AM by the shrill of the same alarm, shovels in the same shitty cereal before stumbling into one of the same five shitty suits that he has to remember to get dry-cleaned, takes the same seat on the subway on the way to work — where he sits in the same chair for eight hours straight with minimal breaks, staring at his computer screen (or, more often, out into nothing) until it’s time to take the same subway back to his shitty apartment, order from the same rotation of shitty takeout, and find some mindless, banal distraction while he ignores texts that don’t even matter anyway before he falls asleep to eventually wake up and do it all over again.

It’s nothing special — just the average life of an average mid-grade programmer at the average tech conglomerate. Comfortable, sure, and a dream many would kill to achieve; he knows this, knows this every time he passes the poor old woman who’s feeding pigeons in her ratty coat from the battered metal bench on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building. He slips her whatever spare change he has on him — a $20 bill, on the days he’s lucky, but often less than that — and, without fail, she always accepts, with a warm smile and kind eyes that seem to stare right into his soul, seeing the deepest parts of it.

Like she knows him. And that’s what’s weird.

He tries not to put too much thought into it, because, honestly, he tries not to put too much thought into anything at all; he’s found that to be the most effective way to navigate the machine that systematically runs his rhythmic, mundane life.

But even so, there are things that he knows he can’t shake.

One afternoon in late February, when the cut of the wind had not remotely suggested that spring would just be a month away, he’d passed the woman on the bench as always, but he could’ve sworn that the whole flock of pigeons scattered on the sidewalk at her feet had frozen for a split second. Like they’d been… glitching. In a blink, everything had returned to normal, and he’d spent about three days (and three sleepless nights) trying to convince himself he’d been seeing things, that he’d just been spending too much time actually working on his assigned program for once and that maybe he should take some of his accumulated vacation days? And the following week, he had, but….

No time off to try to clear his head would ever change the fact that this hadn’t been an isolated incident.

Because sometimes — he swears he sees pieces of code fall through his field of vision; a blink and then they’re gone, but it happens too often not to be a pattern, and no matter how much he might want to for the sake of his own sanity, he can’t just brush that aside. Sometimes, flashes come to his mind like barely-remembered dreams, in idle moments and just on the edge of the line that separates sleep from waking consciousness, so real that he knows they’re memories. Dark tunnels that haven’t seen the sun for centuries. Cold, so cold that no amount of warmth, human or otherwise, can really combat. Running, desperately bounding up the fire escape to the third floor of a rundown motel, three men in sunglasses and perfectly-tailored suits in close pursuit, his heart pounding in his ears so loudly he can barely hear the phone ring from Room 303, the place he has to get to, because everything depends on it. A barrage of bullets in his chest, one right after the other, back slumping against the wall as his heart gives out, vision fading to grey and then to black, but a voice, reaching through it all to call him, tether him….

Neo.

There are things that he knows he can’t shake, and sometimes, he thinks he had another life. Another name.

Another purpose.

He’s haunted by the ghost of it.

It’s the second of April — at least, that’s what the screen of his phone tells him, because otherwise he wouldn’t know, or care to know. A Friday, and all the faceless commuters are packed like sardines into this subway car, headed home for weekends that are sure to be as inconsequential as his own. Today, he has to stand holding the rail for the ride home; a woman trying to juggle both a baby and two bags of groceries had just barely managed to stumble onto the train before the doors had closed, and he’d sprung up, more than glad to give up his seat to someone in greater need.

She tries to thank him, profusely and repeatedly, but with where he’s standing, he would have to twist to keep facing her, so, with a nod and the barest hint of a smile, he turns away to spend the trip the way he always does: in solitude.

The route back to the station just down the block from his apartment building is never smooth, by any stretch of the imagination, but today, it’s bumpier than usual; the train car jerks and jostles, until, eventually, it sends him colliding into back of the passenger standing next to him.

He’s just about to stammer out some automatic, awkward apology, but then —

Blue eyes meet his, clear, crisp blue, and a jolt strikes him right to the core.

He thinks — no, he knows, he knows — he’s seen these eyes.

Neo. In the darkest corners of his mind, the voice whispers again.

Time freezes, glitches, around him, around him and this stranger with familiar blue eyes. He sees the light leave them, and then come right back. He sees warmth, what something is telling him had once been the only thing able to keep the cold of the real away; that warmth spreads through now, to the tips of him, and he has a sense, one he doesn’t entirely understand, that something has just clicked into place.

Behind sunglasses, another pair of eyes watches them from across the car.

“You all right?” Neo.

He sees brows knit in concern, and for the first time, he pays attention to the face that the eyes belong to. Probably the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen in… more than one life, he’d have to guess, is now in front of him; he isn’t so detached and disconnected that he doesn’t notice that. Her short dark hair is cut into a severe bob, and she’s dressed in black from head to toe — from her coat and gloves, to her boots. It suits her, somehow.

After a beat, he finally remembers to speak. “Yeah. I — sorry.” The subway jerks to a halt; he glances up, and adds quickly, after clearing his throat, “This is… my stop. Excuse me. Sorry.”

Pushing past her, pushing past everyone in his way, he disembarks to the station, and when his feet touch solid pavement, he takes off at a sprint. Up the stairs (third floor… Room 303….), down the sidewalk (agents, just behind… he can beat them, if he just runs faster than he ever has…), not stopping until the mundane certainty of his shitty apartment building is within his sights.

Just before he makes it safely inside, he catches a glimpse of the old woman on the bench watching him, her smile wider than he’s ever seen it. Maybe, even, almost inhumanly wide.

10.

Her name is Natalie.

That’s what he learns about a week later, when he bumps into her again in front of the grocery store on the corner down from the subway station, the one he always chooses out of convenience. Quite literally; he’s distracted, disconnected, and before he even knows what’s happening, he’s collided with another body, contents of the two bags under his arms spilling out onto the sidewalk. His apologies are hurried and stammered, but her hands are gentle as she moves to help, brushing his more than once. Her smile is soft when their eyes meet.

Over the next several months, he learns a lot of other things, too.

He learns that she takes her coffee with cream and no sugar, and that she always leaves the barista a generous tip. He learns that she’s a genius with tech, better than him and his two computer science degrees and half-cushy corporate job could ever hope to be, and has his whole apartment practically rewired in an hour one day. He learns that if he’s quiet and still, her black cat has no qualms with being his friend. He learns that her lips curve up in just a certain way and her eyes crinkle when she’s just about to laugh.

And he learns that kissing her feels like coming home, as familiar and peaceful as it is new and strange. He learns that with her, coming together, becoming one with another person, is like nothing else.

For the first time in what he can remember, he knows what it feels like to be alive.

(Only it isn’t… is it? The first time. Somehow, just like he knows that he sees the same person walk past him twice, like he knows that those glitches start happening on a near-daily basis, like he knows that the old woman on the bench is smiling at him more broadly than ever….

Their lives have collided, and given each other meaning, purpose, before.)

11.

In his dreams, he sees a city entirely built from light. Spires touch the sky like fireworks, blindingly bright, and with every step, flames ripple out from his feet, making the next one all too clear.

Inevitable.

This is where his path had always led.

In his dreams, he can’t see her face. He can only hear struggling gasps for breath, and a voice that only grows shakier. He can only feel the metal that pierces her stomach, the blood that pools on her shirt. The faint heartbeat he can do nothing to restart.

Inevitable.

(You were right, Smith. You are always right.)

He wakes with a start, drenched in a cold sweat (as cold as their last kiss), gasping for breath. Next to him on the bed, Natalie stirs and shifts closer; when he reaches out a tentative hand, lets his fingers graze over her stomach, she’s warm.

His eyes scrunch tightly shut. Code falls behind his lids like the rain that patters against the windows outside.

100.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary on this day in early fall. A breeze rustles the trees as they walk hand in hand through the park, and provides the first hint that cooler weather is on the way. Children’s laughter from the nearby playground fills the air. Dogs chase each other on the grass. Natalie sips her coffee, cream with no sugar; they enjoy the contented silence that falls between them, only punctuated by her soft smile.

There’s nothing out of the ordinary — except for everything that is.

They meet each other’s eyes, her blue to his brown, and in an instant, everything changes.

It’s hard to tell who sees it first, but — the flash of recognition envelops both of them. Vague memories, the ones that have floated over him like a constant cloud, just out of reach, are in his hands, in his brain, in his heart. He’d had another life once, another name. And it’d been —

“Neo.”

She whispers it on an awed breath, tears forming in her eyes. The coffee cup slips from her grasp, long since forgotten; she lifts that hand to his face, fingers tracing the rise of his cheekbone.

Tears swim in his vision, too, tears and strands of code, falling. Falling. Nothing makes sense and yet everything makes sense, no more so than when the name falls out of his mouth, the last piece of a particularly jumbled puzzle: “Trinity.”

But a thousand words he doesn’t know how to say don’t even begin to get a chance to form. He feels the eyes watching them more than he sees them; both hands drop to his sides, and he tenses, ready to fight.

He’s barely aware that the old woman who’s usually on the bench near his apartment building approaches on the sidewalk. She looks between them, nods, and:

“They’re coming, kiddo,” she tells him, voice severe, with none of her usual warmth, as she grips his arm. “You need to run.”

101.

At sunset, a man in a white suit, tall and imposing, joins the old woman on a park bench near the playground, but says nothing; from all appearances, it looks as though he barely acknowledges her at all. They remain, just like this, as people filter out one by one under the steadily darkening sky, returning to their lives.

They always remain through every iteration, the Mother and Father of the Matrix.

Preoccupied with purpose and the inefficiency of wasting time, as is his programming, the Father is the first to break the silence.

"I informed you it was a dangerous game.”

The Oracle says nothing in response.

She merely smiles.

[salty-ironstrange-shipper]

Okay so, I'm listening to I think I'm in love again by kat dahlia and there this "I say "fuck you" While I'm thinking of you as my husband" And my brain just screamed IRONSTRANGE!! I M U S T read fluffy ironstrange fics!

So you got any fluffy fics for me? Cuz I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight without reading any floffy ironstrange fics

here are some ~fluffy fics for ya’

(there ended up being a lot, so they’re under the cut)

Peter Parker is a Little Shit

1,044 words

Peter wants to learn how to play the trumpet. Stephen, upon finding out Peter wishes to annoy the former Avengers with it, suggests he doesn't have to learn how to actually play.

Professors Stark and Strange

1,195 words

There's two kinds of professors, the brick wall and the over share. Dr. Strange is professor brick wall and Dr. Stark is professor overshare. How their students learned that they're married with two kids.

An Open Invitation to Dance

1,601 words

Tony has a ring in his pocket and a half-formed plan to get the love of his life to say yes to him

Maybe less than that of a plan

12% of a plan?

a vague idea

The Escapist

1,890 words

Stephen and Tony knew that moving Peter into his crib would be tough. But, they didn't expect this.

“Good kitty”

2,157 words

Sometimes it can be hard to make the first move - especially when your crush is also your hot new neighbor with an adorable cat.

Fortunately, Levi the kitty is there to give Tony and Stephen a little push.

Just a family

2,251 words

They loved each other long before. They will love each other forever. Its just a question of finding each other again!

a rebirth AU inspired by lucifersfavoritechild's tumblr

A Passage in Time

2,264 words

Tony takes Stephen on a nice beach vacation to get away from the cold winter. Other things happen. Like an engagement.

Peter Parker's Homecoming

2,346 words

Five-year old Peter Parker anxiously waits to go to his new home, where his adopted parents, Tony and Stephen Stark-Strange await his arrival.

Where Severus Snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl

2,387 words

And then, as if he wasn’t already the most embarrassing estranged biological dad ever, Tony stopped in his tracks, raised his sunglasses (because of course he would wear sunglasses inside a lecture hall in April), and gave Professor Strange the most blatant, sustained once-over in the history of fuckboyness. Then he put down his glasses, shot a winning smile at the teacher, and said, “Well, I’m Tony Stark, of course.”

Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.

Burden of Proof

2,561 words

Based on a prompt/headcanon from my dear rinn aka Maevee

"I do have a tiny headcanon just of Christine meeting Tony and fangirling out a bit, like maybe while she's at work so she's struggling to be professional. Strange tells her he's dating Tony Stark and she doesn't believe him, so he brings her proof."

Are You Trying to Deduce Me?

2,619 words

When Tony throws a costume party, both he and Stephen end up coming as very different but very familiar versions of the same character.

Tony Stark's secret husband

2,870 words

It’s not like they wanted to keep the secret because they didn’t. They never spoke about going public with their wedding, and nobody but for tabloids ever asked either Stark or Stephen about their romantic lives so, again, Tony wouldn’t blame either himself or Stephen for keeping it between the two of them.

I Feel Loved

2,913 words

After months of waiting and yearning Stephen returns to Tony for a long-promised date. Things escalate quickly from that point on.

Pint-Sized Parker

3,636 words

Tony is called away from a meeting to deal with a now toddler-aged Peter Parker, who went snooping around in Stephen Strange's spells.

Contentment

3,732 words

Tony hadn't gotten a good night's sleep since before Afghanistan. Even with Thanos gone and everyone back, he still can't shake the nightmares. At a party, Stephen Strange gives him hope for the future that they fought for.

basically just fluff.

I Hate (Love) You

3,990 words

Tony has a hard time spitting out the words I love you. Stephen doesn't mind.

Strange Strawberry Sorbet

6,023 words

After the realization came the denial, immediately followed by depression. So what if Stephen might kind of...maybe...sort of...be in like with Tony. Tony deserves better than a nobody, hobo sorcerer with blasted, shaking hands and the only thing going for him being magicky party tricks he's questionably good at.

Stephen will absolutely NOT ask Tony out on a date, let alone confess to the myriad of feelings he has for the man.

Then again, Peter Parker doesn't need permission to spin his webs like the puppetmaster he is and this time, this time he brought reinforcements.

Petulance (Among Other Things)

6,988 words

Tony’s stuck going to a conference—against his will, thank you very much—and Stephen’s not even coming with him. He’s all alone. Abandoned. Unloved. Melodramatic. Possibly. Just a tiny bit.

—

A conference. A storm. A warmth.

Five Times Tony Saw Stephen Naked and the One Time He Helped

7,117 words

Tony isn't entirely sure how he feels about the Sorcerer Supreme.

He is sure, however, that he's seen enough of him to make those feelings even more complicated.

The Two Lives of Stephen Strange

8,365 words

After losing the love of his life, Stephen Strange finds out he can visit him in his dreams.

tap dancing on a land mine

Tony discovers, much to his delight, that Stephen holds a special hatred for being called “babe”. Of course, that means Tony only goes out of his way to push this newly discovered button of Stephen’s like it’s his god-given purpose in life. Because that’s what true love’s all about, right?

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 4.1 - Drifting Yunichika

1. LINE JUDGE

Heeeeeey guys I’m back

Translation Notes

1. Tora no Yu is the name of a public bath

2. A lariat is a wrestling move where a wrestler runs towards their opponent and “ strikes them by extending their arm straight out and moving it forward against their neck or chest area. “

Previous || Index || Next

“If that’s how it’s going to be, Yuni,” Nagato Ryo said quite simply after he stuffed all his belongings from the locker in the room into his enamel bag.

It had been less than three months since he joined the team in April, so he didn’t have much stuff. The inside of the empty locker was also clean. They didn’t have a lot of members, and they weren’t tyrannized just because they were first-years, so they were given their own individual lockers as soon as they joined the team. They were a small team where everyone had to work together, regardless of rank, or there wouldn’t be enough people to prepare for practice. It was very hard on the team to have people quit.

The volleyball shoes that were transferred from his locker to his bag—they went to a sports shop together to buy them when they entered high school because the ones from middle school had gotten smaller. He wondered what kind of fate would befall those shoes that they had bought together at the store entrance after they examined them seriously but still excitedly, after he brought them home. He wondered if they would be put away somewhere.

“Ryo, are you really…”

Even while standing by the doorway to clear his path, Kuroba said in a way as though he was still unwilling to give up, Is there any way I can talk you out of this? He and Nagato had been together since elementary school and middle school. Since they entered the same high school and joined the same club, he freely thought that there wasn’t really any doubt that they would hanging out together again for the next three years.

“If Haijima’s joining, I quit.”

His chest throbbed when he flatly said that. Even though he wasn’t the one being rejected, when he thought about Haijima, his chest ached. Nagato gave a little exasperated sigh.

“I want to have fun in club. I just don’t want to make bad memories with a guy who ruins the mood. What’s so weird about that? Do you have to put so much effort into club activities?”

“No…”

Kuroba shook his head, his face slightly looking down. The purpose for joining a club was different for everyone. There were those who were ready and willing to spend their entire high school careers aiming for nationals, and there were those who just wanted to enjoy their hobbies and interests with their friends.

Nagato shouldered his bag and walked past him. He turned his body towards him at the door.

“Yuni, you’re still doing it, aren’t you?”

He said, as though it was the final confirmation. He felt like he was telling him that they could still go together.

Until that point, he had been mumbling his words, but when he was asked that, Kuroba raised his head and answered without hesitation.

“I’m doing it.”

Last summer, the prefectural tournament of their third year of middle school. Though they advanced to the semifinals, Kuroba ran away from the competition. He ended his middle school volleyball career with the regret of doing something that couldn’t be undone and the indigestion that grew larger and larger within him afterwards. He didn’t want to feel those things a second time.

But most importantly, he finally brought Haijima back to the volleyball team.

His middle school teammate, Haijima Kimichika, was a volleyball fanatic who loved volleyball. It was already at a level where it went too far. He was always serious towards volleyball, and what’s worse, his ability was so high that he often left the others behind and went on a rampage. He had the irredeemable flaw of not being able to read the mood of the team. The way he spoke was also awful. 

He certainly was a guy who was unusually good at making other people angry. Even Kuroba had been irritated by him many times.

…But even so.

He joined the volleyball team in high school as well, had a good relationship with his senpais, and though the serious practice of high school was tougher than he expected, he had never thought that it was so painful that he wanted to quit. Every time he jumped off the gym floor with a squeak of his shoes, every time he hit a ball someone set to him, the feelings he had a year ago buzzed in the back of his body—while he chewed upon the joy of volleyball Haijima taught him, every day during club activities.

There was one thing he always thought.

“I want to play volleyball with Haijima.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Around seven o’clock in the morning, the sky was already bright as though painted in ultramarine blue, and thick columns of clouds were gradually rising. On both sides of the one-lane farm road that continued straight ahead were rural landscapes as far as the eye could see. The rice plants that were still green were growing quickly. The slightly hazy and blue-green mountaintops surrounded the perimeter at 360 degrees.

Blue and green and white. Monshiro’s summer, distinctly color keyed by these three colors, was arriving.

On the paved road in the middle of the rice paddies, a light pickup truck was driving fast with enka music coming out of it at a loud volume. His relative yelled cheerfully, adding embellishment to the song while he gripped the shaky steering wheel. It’s not a residential area, so it won’t bother the neighbors, but the Kuroba family acts way too freely in town… the son and heir to the Kuroba family sitting in the passenger’s seat, Kuroba Yuni, was feeling quite fed up. For the Kurobas, the entire town was like their own yard. Most of the mountains in Monshiro were privately owned by the Kurobas, so that wasn’t necessarily wrong.

“Uncle, can you turn down the volume a little bit…”

“Aah? You said something, Bon?”

His yelling voice returned from the driver’s seat, still with the strange intonations of enka.

“…Nothing.”

Exhausted, he leaned against the side door, his temple reaching the upper frame of the window. At that moment, they passed a bicycle that was travelling below the window and left it behind.

“Ah!”

He immediately tried to poke his head out of the window, but scraped his forehead against the window frame and groaned, “Oww…”

“Mm?” his relative stepped on the brakes. “Is there someone there?”

“Ah, yeah. A guy on my team…”

After he said that, he realized that there was also a delicate distance with “guy on my team.” He could say “team member” again, which was progress, but he didn’t feel like he could say “friend.” They were still more distant from each other than middle school—than kindergarten if they went back farther in time.

As his relative backed the truck up, Kuroba opened the door and jumped down onto the road. He stumbled a step forward and then ran.

Haijima, who had been pedalling his bike with his head down, looked up and stopped his bike by putting one foot on the ground. He was dressed lightly in a T-shirt and knee-length track pants, but heavily equipped with his baggage of box-shaped enamel bag and drum-shaped sports bag that were slung over his shoulders.

His relative stopped the truck.

“Oi, get in, get in. I’ll send you all the way to school.”

His relative tried to lift the bike that Haijima was riding on, and Haijima hopped his bike on one foot, looking annoyed. “You’re the kid at Ooe-san’s house, right? I’ll bring your bike home later. You’re gonna stay there for five days. If you leave it at the station, it’ll get stolen. I’ve heard things have been getting a bit dangerous around here lately.” His relative chatted as he carried the bike onto the back of the truck with an astonishing amount of power, even though he was past sixty. “It’s four stays over five days,” Kuroba corrected, but his relative basically didn’t listen to people. “There’s no way for this town to be dangerous. Everyone knows each other…” Haijima grumbled in a low voice.

“Well, get in. I said I’ll give you a ride while I deliver provisions to the training camp.”

Not being completely one-sided like his relative, Kuroba shyly stretched out his hand for the sports bag Haijima was carrying. He was relieved that Haijima didn’t push away as he obediently lowered his head and pulled the strap of his bag from around his neck.

“’Provisions’? You mean, all of that?”

While fixing his glasses, Haijima looked at the back of the truck with his eyes half-closed.

There were about ten bales of rice stacked in a pyramid on the tray. A huge mound of round cabbages that still had dirt on them. Tightly lined up buckets overflowing with potatoes, onions, and tomatoes…

“Do they think we have a hundred members or something?”

“I told them we didn’t need it. But they said it was Grandpa’s order…”

With the cargo of one bike and one human added on board, the truck started driving down the farm road again. This time, he and Haijima rode in the back of the truck, so they didn’t have to listen to his relative’s singing up close. The sound of the car radio in the driver’s seat and the rough voice of his relative were blown back by the wind.

Haijima sat with his back to the mountain of cabbages, hugging his knees, and Kuroba sat cross-legged with a bucket full of tomatoes in his arms. Haijima’s bike was precariously balanced in the gap between two rice bales.

“Ah, it’s hot…”

Haijima held up his hand to the sunlight beating down on the back of the truck and squinted his eyes.

It was now summer vacation, and the summer training camp for the boys’ volleyball team was starting today. It was taking place at school, so their practice environment didn’t change, but just the idea of staying there overnight made him a bit excited.

“Hey, how many pairs of underpants did you bring?”

When he inadvertently asked that, Haijima screwed his face up, looking very annoyed.

“Is this an elementary school field trip…Don’t get carried away.”

“Okay, but this is my first training camp. So, how many underpants?”

“I don’t know. Grandma packed enough for me.”

“What, you didn’t pack for yourself? I think you’re the one who’s like an elementary schooler.”

The man named Haijima didn’t have the nerves to spare time for anything else other than volleyball, so in the way of a first-year high school boy, he cared little about his clothes or looking good. However, looking at the shirt of his uniform and his T-shirts, he was always made to wear proper and pure white ones. It was probably the concern of his maternal grandmother who he lived with.

“This is my dominion, but…” With a haughty looking expression for some reason, Haijima pulled the enamel bag he usually carried around for club activities to his side. “I don’t know anything about that,” he said, indicating with his chin the duffel bag that thrown on top of the ragged pile of cabbage behind him. While he let someone else prepare his underpants, he was certainly very careful about his volleyball gear, to the point where he didn’t want anyone to touch them.

“You’re a guy who has clear judgement about your own ins and outs…”

Even while shrugging his shoulders and sighing, but he found himself reflecting on their conversation.

Their last tournament of their third year of middle school was held exactly one year ago, in July of last year. Because Kuroba evaded his responsibilities, Monshiro Middle School was lacking an attacker and were eliminated from the semifinals, and then Haijima got injured, so they ended up withdrawing from the third-place playoffs. Ever since that tournament, Kuroba and his other teammates had severed ties with Haijima. After a year of not talking to each other, he thought that they were finally able to communicate rather decently now. Even if for now, he was still no more than “guy from my team.”

“Hey, didn’t my mom go talk to your grandma? Can’t we make some kind of parents’ association or something…? It’ll make donations and gifts more convenient, Apparently she talked with Nagato’s mom at first, but Nagato quit, so she said she’ll go talk to Chika’s grandma…”

He began speaking in a good mood, but when he noticed Haijima’s expression becoming increasingly grim, he stopped talking. “Parents’ association…” Haijima spat out those words in a chilling voice. Kuroba faltered, wondering what set him off as his neutral mood was suddenly dropped into low gear.

“Haven’t you learned yet that club activities aren’t a good place for parents to butt in and meddle?”

“Well…sure, but it wasn’t my idea, it was Nagato’s mom’s.”

“Well, now that Nagato quit, there’s no need for this conversation then.”

Haijima turned to the side in a huff and sank his back into the mountain of cabbages. Even Kuroba felt annoyed at that attitude.

“Don’t talk like that. Whose fault do you think it is…”

“It’s mine, right? If he didn’t like me joining so much that he quit, then he wasn’t serious from the start.”

It’s no good. It’s not worth talking. Nothing changed…This guy’s lack of consideration. For Haijima, the people who played volleyball seriously and everyone else were clearly divided into those he cared about and those he didn’t. It was the same as the things he took good care of in his club activities bag and everything else he didn’t care about.

He didn’t believe Nagato’s quitting was Haijima’s fault, but he honestly wanted him to share a little bit of the bad aftertaste he himself felt.

However, when he tried to say something and inhaled, he couldn’t think of any words that would make Haijima understand. Ah, geez, sometimes I don’t know why I brought Haijima back, even to the point where I ended up cutting ties with Nagato.

Shit, he cursed, and took a tomato from a bucket and threw it at the side of Haijima’s face. He stopped it with his left hand, looking startled.

“You—”

“Eat it, it’s tasty.”

He also took out a somewhat large tomato and took a big bite out of it. The sweet juices trickled down his chin, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“I picked them in my relative’s field. I’m sure our senpais would love them.”

It had actually become a traumatic experience for him, when he had gotten nervous and lost his bearings with the huge cheering squad of all his relatives appearing at that middle school game. He really wished they would cut it out with that sort of thing. At any rate, in this case, they overdid it with the scale of the “little favor”. But, putting that aside.

“I think you’re doing this with good intentions. Even if you don’t want a PTA, you should accept these. And then they’ll be satisfied too.”

Although he often felt embarrassed or irritated by them, he didn’t hate or detest his grandfather or relatives or his parents.  If someone talked bad about them, he didn’t feel good about that.

Holding the tomato in his hand, Haijima looked at him in silence for a while. The dazzling summer sunrays reflected off his pale face, and he couldn’t see his expression behind his glasses. He then clicked his tongue and turned his face from him again.

“…That’s something a well-bred guy would say.”

He said bitterly, throwing his gaze towards the scenery streaming past them. In the end, the tomato just rolled around in his hand, and he never ate it. Even though it had been a year and a half since he moved to town from Tokyo, he seemed to persist in not becoming a member of the town. It felt somewhat lonely. I might still be dragging the image of “Chika” from kindergarten around, he suddenly thought. He knew that “Chika” went to Tokyo and got lost and would never come back. The only clue to finding “Chika” was volleyball, and it wasn’t like he was only playing volleyball for that reason, but it was probably a big part of it.

A light horn sounded from the driver’s seat.

They passed another bike near the shoulder of the road. Haijima, looking behind him, noticed something and muttered, “Ah.” Kuroba also took notice of a jet-black umbrella that completely disregarded the weather and was somewhat meandering along under the blinding summer sky. “Ah,” he said, and half-rose.

“Kanno-senpaaaai!”

When he called out to him from the back of the truck, a pale freckled face, even whiter than Haijima’s, peeked out from beneath the umbrella. He was holding his umbrella, so he was riding with one hand.

It was Kanno Akito, who, in his long jersey pants and long-sleeved hoodie, he looked just like a boxer who was in the middle of losing weight. On top of that, he was wearing his hood entirely over his head and his hands were tucked into his sleeves (by the way, all of it was apparently of UV cut). He was their senpai on the volleyball team and came from the same middle school, Monshiro Middle, as Kuroba and Haijima. He looked like a lanky and tall scarecrow wearing clothes and carrying an umbrella. He hated to say it about themselves, but it was unavoidable that the volleyball team’s boys were often described as pasty.

Recognizing the two’s faces, Kanno’s mouth moved to form a “’’Sup” and he bobbed his head slightly in greeting. Kuroba turned around to the driver’s seat and raised his voice to not be overpowered by the loud enka music.

“Uncle, stop! There’s one more passenger!”

***

“Great, as soon as camp is over, it’ll be time for the Autumn Tournament. We’ll finish up the team during these five days. Some of you might have come here thinking you’re going to play around at night, but be prepared to be worked so hard that you won’t have the energy for that.” The captain, Oda, gave them a pep talk. “Yes!” the first- and second-years shouted, somewhat out of sync. The vice-captain, Aoki, was standing half a step behind Oda. Oda nodded in satisfaction at the team members’ response and turned diagonally behind him.

“Anything from Sensei…”

He was about to say, and then his face stiffened.

The old teacher who was the advisor for the boys’ volleyball team was leaning his frail body back in his folding chair, snoring comfortably. Slivers of light shone over the handrail of the second floor gallery, creating a stripped spot of sun in the gym, and the advisor’s face, his wrinkled mouth half open, looked like a fish being cooked on a grill.

“…Someone. A first-year. Move him to the shade before he becomes a dried fish.”

Oda ordered with a grimace. “Ah, yes!” When Kuroba tried to run, Haijima jumped at the same time, and there was an atmosphere that restrained them both for an instant as they wondered which of them was going. “…The two of you do it.” Oda sighed.

Heave ho. They lifted the chair on both sides at Kuroba’s call. They carried the chair to a corner of the gym with their advisor, who showed no signs of waking up even when he was in midair. Kuroba was about three centimeters taller, so it was slightly tilted towards Haijima’s side. When Kuroba lowered the position of his hand, Haijima raised his arm high as though indignant.

He’s still the same guy who hates to lose.

Now, if “first-years” was called, then it would be himself and Haijima who would move. After the provisional club enrollment period in April was over, three first-years, including Kuroba and Nagato, officially joined the club. Of course Haijima didn’t join the team at that time. It was after the ballgame tournament in June when Haijima finally agreed to join after Oda’s persistent persuasion. However, Nagato and the other first-year quit at the same time as Haijima joined. Apparently Nagato asked him to quit, but he hadn’t bothered to catch that person to find out the truth.

Since the ban on first-years quitting or leaving clubs was lifted at the end of June, three months since enrollment, it seemed that every club had members who left one after the other after the ballgame tournament either way.

“It was us third-year’ decision to take Haijima, even knowing Nagato’s opinion. There’s nothing a freshman needs to feel responsible for. There’s nowhere you can complain.” Aoki must have sensed Kuroba’s worries, because he reassured him with that.

For the current boys’ volleyball team members, there were two first-years: Kuroba and Haijima. Four second-years—Kanno, Uchimura and Hokao who were there from the start, and Okuma, who transferred over from the rugby team. For the third-years, there were still the same two people—the imbalanced captain duo of the 163 centimeter Oda and the 193 centimeter Aoki. There were fluctuations within the grades, but if you added the three years up, there were eight people, the same number as before the ballgame tournament.

The finals of the ballgame tournament, where they were betting on getting either Haijima or Okuma, ended in the victory of Team F led by Oda, so the right to obtain Okuma (well, it hadn’t existed in the first place) had disappeared, but Okuma himself came knocking on the volleyball team’s door. The rugby team had an image of being a tightly unified group, and there must have been a good reason for him to change clubs at this stage of his second year. Perhaps something about volleyball appealed to him.

“It’s as Oda said about practice. I’ll talk about the rest.”

While Kuroba and Haijima carried chairs over, Aoki took over the talk and continued the meeting.

“Well, it’s the same camp as last year, so the second-years already know, right? There are no baths, so you can either use the school showers or go down to the Tora no Yu. (1) No bikes allowed when you’re going to the Tora no Yu. Either way, you’d be drenched with sweat on the way back. For laundry, you can use the coin laundry at the Tora no Yu. We don’t have a specific person on duty, but it’s cheaper to use it all at once, so ask each other. Don’t let it pile up since it’ll stink. After dinner and the meeting, we’ll have a study session until lights out. The only time I’ll look at your homework is during camp, so make good use of it. Lights out strictly at eleven. If there’s anyone awake, I’ll assume you have too much energy and have you do twenty dashes on the slope. Now finally, for the meals, which you guys are probably wondering about the most…breakfast and lunch are sold in the cafeteria, but we’re making dinner ourselves. I’ll post the rotation chart in the kitchen, so keep an eye out for it. Anyways, we’re having yakiniku tonight.”

A small cheer went up. Aoki held up his hand and said, “However, starting tomorrow we’ll only be having curry. Kuroba’s parents have contributed tons of meat and vegetables, so everyone thank him.”

His name suddenly brought up, Kuroba, who was about to put down the chairs and return to the meeting circle, shrank back.

“Yo, land-owning rich kid!” Okuma clapped his hands and teased, and the other team members also applauded. “N-no, it’s not my parents, it’s my relatives. They can’t possibly eat all these vegetables and they think there’s about a hundred people on the team…” Before he knew it, he ended up copying the lines Haijima said this morning. Although he said something self-important to Haijima, when he was praised before everyone, he was embarrassed about acting like a rich country bumpkin giving everyone a lavish feast.

“What are you saying, Kuroba? It’s the kindness of your guardians. We’re grateful for it.”

“Well, if you throw it all into curry, then it wouldn’t be too hard to consume.”

Oda and Aoki backed him up in their own ways. The third-years are so mature, he thought.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Hey, Kuroba!” The spike he hit with all his strength became a home run and hit the opposite wall, earning him a warning from the setter, Uchimura. “You gotta hit them with each and every one of your nerves. There’s no point in practicing. Oda-senpai says it’s during practice when you should think. On the contrary, you think too much during matches…”

“Oh, okay. Got it.”

He pouted as he answered, but his gaze was pulled in another direction. Oda had just beckoned Haijima over and started talking to him.

“So, Haijima, how’s our attackers?”

“They’re not bad at all. I’ll match up with everyone during the training camp. Since the right side hitters seem useful, I’d like to increase the combos involving them and the centers. Like A and D double quicks or a C quick and a right broad jump or a tandem attack with the center and the right side…”

Haijima began to easily enumerate tactical terms that Kuroba couldn’t imagine very well just by listening.

“Oh, oh, wait a minute. Oi, Kanno, the white board. And, Okuma!”

Oda hurriedly called the two second-years over. Kanno ran over with a sketchbook-sized whiteboard under his armpit. “Me too? Alright.” Okuma did a lariat (2) to Kuroba’s neck for no reason and passed him. “Gueh…” It was quite irritating that this senpai always seemed to not be satisfied unless he did one unnecessary thing.

“And, Kuroba!”

“Ah, yes!”

He responded while rubbing his throat.

“I said center and right. Let the guys on the left do receiving practice.”

Haijima said without even looking at him. Kuroba, who was about to run, froze. Even the other team members were startled at the way he spoke, like he was cutting him off.

Haijima was the only one who didn’t notice the tensing atmosphere, and he put the whiteboard on the floor and knelt down, beginning to let his mind unfold on a two-dimensional court. Haijima’s position, setter, was also called the playmaker, and it was the team’s brain, the backbone of all the attacks from its own side. In Haijima’s mind, he probably stockpiled an infinite number of tactics that could be combined as long as he had the right pieces to make them happen. Dragging in the centers Aoki and Okuma and the right-side hitter Kanno, Haijima’s talk became excited, and even the captain Oda was left out.

Oda approached them, scratching his head.

“Let me join you guys.”

The remaining four people began receiving practice.

“He was like that since middle school, right?”

Oda said, while underhand receiving the ball Uchimura hit to him.

“Yes…like that.”

“He must have something special in his head. Like, apparently shogi masters are able to visualize the movements of all the pieces of the board dozens of moves ahead in their minds. I don’t know anything about shogi though.”

“I know a little about it. My grandpa’s hobby is shogi.”

He unintentionally mentioned his grandpa and felt embarrassed again that he might get thought of as a grandpa’s boy, but Oda didn’t make fun of him like Okuma.

“For him, instead of shogi pieces, it’s the ball on the court and the opposing team’s players…he can picture the movements of everything on the court in an instant. He’s really the embodiment of a volleyball brain…but well, everything off the court slips out of his head right away.”

“He’s extreme. Inside and outside.”

“It’s up to the team to make the best use of him or hold him back. It feels like if he was such a good all-rounder, he could be the top player anywhere, but it’s actually the opposite. There might not be a lot of teams that can accept him. If he goes somewhere bad, he’ll be pretty easily destroyed, so it’ll be too dangerous.”

“Haa…”

Feeling dejected, Kuroba’s shoulders slumped. Haijima had failed because of that in middle school. Probably at his Tokyo middle school too… There was an incident that forced him to transfer from his powerhouse private school to this countryside. Would he just repeat the same thing in high school? What was he brought back to this court for?

“We’ll make use of him.”

Oda’s voice suddenly became stronger. After he received the ball with his knees bent, he turned his eyes towards the circle with Haijima in the center. Haijima had his backside towards them now and his forehead almost touching the floor, absorbed in moving the pieces on the whiteboard.

“I started thinking, ‘Isn’t it my responsibility to protect that talent and send it off to university?’”

“Senpai…”

Something hot spread in his chest. Our captain is so cool…he thought proudly. He knew that the other clubs made fun of the fact that boys’ volleyball’s captain was tiny. But he didn’t care what other people said. Oda had the ability to make them want to take this person to the national stage before he graduated. That was why for the members of this team, there was no question that Oda was their captain.

That kind of existence didn’t exist when he was in middle school, where there were only vague, indistinct horizontal ties. They’ve never decided on a leader, and Haijima only served as team captain at the time of the tournament because of the difference in experience levels. Their middle school team was completely reliant on Haijima alone. Haijima was the only one who seriously wanted to win the prefectural tournament, and everyone else, including himself, still felt like they were participating to make memories.

I’m sure that with this team, this time for sure we’ll be able to say, “Let’s fight together” with everyone.

Now, if I could just get stronger individually…

I’ll work even harder at practice. So that I’ll be an attacker who Haijima will firmly place his trust in for any situation.

Previous || Index || Next

[chilling-seavey]

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter One

A/N Hey there, ladies and gents! It’s time to be swept away into an alternate universe where 1950s LA is the place to be. This is my first ever soulmate au and it took a lot of planning to make everything fit just right so I hope you all enjoy! 

Summary: It’s 1958 and summer has just begun, sending the teenagers of Los Angeles into warm weather freedoms and part time jobs. Eighteen-year-old Daniel finds himself spending his days trying to find his soulmate and he refuses to give up until he has her.

Los Angeles in 1958 was a thriving city of luxury and fame; housing many of the greats and certainly more to come in upscale Beverly Hills mansions with top dollar views. They lived in their own worlds in the coastal city; unbothered by the working class with 9-5 jobs and single-family bungalows in the suburbs. To the everyday person, life in Los Angeles was more than nice with the beach on one side, the mountains on the other, and enough cultural entertainment to hardly ever be bored. People were happy you could argue and, in a sense that was true. Happy that they were able to settle down in that warm American Dream with the one they were destined to be with. Their soulmate.

This wasn’t a world full of lonesome heartbreak – unless one would choose to live that way – as everyone was assigned someone that they were meant to be with. By their eighteenth birthday, strange habits started to arise where you could taste whatever your soulmate was eating at any given time. It started faintly the day of your eighteenth birthday, as just a light sensation on your tongue, sort of like what it feels like to have a craving for a specific type of food. As weeks progressed it became more pronounced until after a month or so you could taste nearly exactly what they were eating as if you were eating it yourself.

It was something to get used to at first, but it was reality, and everyone went about their day to day lives with this invisible connection to the one they were destined to be with. Some people never found their soulmate – after all, the world had a population of almost three billion, so the odds weren’t always on your side – but eighteen-year-old Daniel refused to let that be his fate.

The second the clock hit midnight on April 2nd, 1958, Daniel shut his eyes really tightly in his bed and swirled his tongue around his mouth to try and taste something. You see, he was in love with the idea of love for as long as he could remember, and he had been counting down the days until he turned eighteen since he was old enough to know what numbers were. His parents had that perfect love story; high school sweethearts in 1935 where his father knew she was the one from the first week he turned eighteen, married and expecting their first child by 1936 and had three boys with a baby girl on the way before his father was drafted into the war in 1942. His father returned home in 1945 just as in love with his mother than ever before and the rest was history. Daniel wanted a story just like his parents; one where it all just fell into place.

The two-and-a-half months from the day Daniel turned eighteen to his high school graduation gave him absolutely no clue as to who his soulmate was. He tried scrounging the cafeteria at lunch time to see if any of the girls were eating that turkey sandwich he could taste or drinking that cold bottle of Coca-Cola, but he was met with no luck again and again. His soulmate seemed to eat something different everyday for each meal, but he soon came to realize that the only consistent thing was strawberry milkshakes. Usually around the time Daniel got off the school bus at home he’d lick his lips with the sweet flavour of strawberry and whipped cream that was rolling its way along his tongue.

He was just glad it wasn’t chocolate. He hated chocolate.

On the first real day of summer vacation, after graduation and their final high school dance, Daniel was staring out his bedroom window towards the street, impatiently waiting to see his older brother’s shiny red Thunderbird turning onto their street. Sure enough, he got a glimpse of the shiny red sports car in the distance and with an excited gasp, Daniel took off for the stairs.

“Christian’s home!” he shouted through the house, hopping the last three stairs and whipped open the front door just as the car pulled into the driveway.

He jumped off the porch as his parents came out of the house behind him and Daniel rushed to set his hands on the pretty red hood of the car that was still warm from the long drive from upstate.

The tired nineteen-year-old stepped out from the driver’s side and pulled off his sunglasses to offer a dimpled smile to his family, “Hey, you guys. What’s shaking?”

“Christian! How was college?” Daniel asked with a grin.

“Just swell, little brother. Why don’t you come help me bring my things upstairs? I have something for you.”

Daniel absolutely idolized his older brother, so he didn’t need to be asked twice to carry his things. As Christian headed for the porch to greet his mother with a kiss to her cheek and his father with a handshake, Daniel opened the trunk of the car to unload the bags. Out of the four Seavey children, Christian and Daniel were closest in age; Christian was only four months old when their parents fell pregnant with Daniel; leaving the two boys at only thirteen months apart. This made them very close and they shared a bedroom up until their oldest brother Tyler moved out for college a few years before. It was safe to say that when Christian was next to leave for school, Daniel had a hard time adjusting to life in the house without him.

But he was finally back, dressed in his usual slicked back dark brown hair and finished with a leather jacket. Leather was never usually Christian’s choice and Daniel let his eyes linger on the back of his brother’s jacket as he helped him carry his things upstairs to his room.

Christian stopped in the doorway to the left at the top of the stairs, poking his head into the light pink painted room, “Hey, ankle biter, I’m back. Did ya miss me?”

Their younger sister, Anna - a moody force to be reckoned with at fifteen - glanced up from her magazine she was reading on her bed, her record player playing quietly from on top of her dresser, “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

“Did you get that Elvis guy to marry you yet?”

“Oh, shut up, Chris.” Anna blushed, throwing one of her stuffed animals at him before getting up to slam the door in his face.

Christian glanced back at Daniel with a small smile before heading into the room adjacent to toss his bag on his bed. Daniel set his suitcase by his closet and leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

“What’s with the new getup?” Daniel finally asked.

“Oh, this old thing?” Christian grinned, pulling at the hem of his leather jacket. “A buddy in the dorms threw this little bash back in the fall and there were all these swell guys there talking about this new fashion tread. Said it was what everyone’s doing now. I think it looks pretty good, don’t you?”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Christian scoffed. “Well something’s coming to you of this whole business too.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. The guys got me a job at the car shop upstate for the year, I made a bit of dough, fixed up some wheels, and I’m even transferred to another shop down here for the summer. But with the big bucks I made since the fall I can afford a new car.”

“That’s great, Chris.” Daniel said slowly, unsure of where his brother was going with that.

“So I want you to have my T-Bird.” Christian tossed over the keys.

Daniel tried to grab them in his shock but fumbled them and they fell to the carpet. He bent down quickly to pick them up, “Are you pulling my leg?”

“Nope. Car’s all yours. That or I’ll resell it but I know you’ve had your eye on it since I first got it.”

“Yeah! Oh, boy! Thank you!” Daniel grinned.

“Only thing I ask is that you tell me how your birthday went.” Christian smirked, flopping back onto his bed. He leaned back against the headboard with his hands tucked behind his head and his shoes resting up on his bag.

Daniel bit back a small smile, sitting gently at the end of his older brother’s bed, the car keys still in hand, “It was nice. Mom made me a cake. Vanilla, of course. And I had a few friends over to watch a movie on tv and we ordered a pizza.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Christian kicked him with the toe of his shoe lightly.

Daniel’s whole family knew about how excited he was to turn eighteen, solely for the purpose of finally being able to find his soulmate. The younger brother blushed lightly through a smile.

“I haven’t found her yet. But she likes strawberry milkshakes.”

“Strawberry? Well, thank God it’s not chocolate or you’d be miserable.” Christian chuckled. “Think she goes to your school?”

“I dunno. High school’s over anyway. But I want to try and find her this summer. She’s gotta be in the city, right?”

“It’s a big city, little bro.” Christian said.

“You’ll help me, right?”

“I gotta work.” Christian shrugged. “Besides, I gave up on that junk.”

“That junk? Finding your soulmate?” Daniel frowned over at him. He thought back to the late-night talks in their shared bedroom when they were nine and ten, sitting up facing each other on their adjacent twin size beds, talking about what it would be like to grow up and find their soulmates.

Christian hummed, sliding his tongue over his lips and in his mouth, an obvious unaware habit that meant his soulmate was eating something right then. Daniel wondered what he could taste.

Christian clicked his tongue and sat up with a deep inhale as if to pull himself out of his own thoughts, “Yeah, no use stressing yourself over it. Plenty of swell birds around to find, right?”

“I guess.” Daniel mumbled.

“I gotta unpack my things. Why don’t you take the car for a spin before dinner?” Christian suggested, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Sure.” Daniel stood up, glancing down at the keys in his hand. “Thanks again.”

Christian only sent him a dimpled grin and Daniel left his brother’s room without another word. He walked down the stairs and to the front door, calling over his shoulder to his parents that he would be back in a little bit before heading for the driveway. Daniel hopped over the door of the convertible and settled into the red leather seats with his hands falling gently against the steering wheel. He let a small smile come to his lips as the engine roared to life and the familiar taste of strawberry milkshakes grazed his tongue.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Functional Dysfunction - Chapter 3 - Abortion Day - Rheese

written by @anotheronechicagobog

warnings: swearing, abortion, mention of vomit, stress, Daniel Charles is an ass, Connor is still dating Robyn just so you guys know

Avoiding Maggie and Manning was easier said than done. She was working in neuro, not the ED, but they still managed to corner her only forty-five minutes into her shift. She'd managed to escape by being called to do rounds but she knew she wouldn't be so lucky next time. She was trying to think of a game plan or an excuse, just something she could use when they hunted her down next time, but she was coming up empty. Manning had mother's intuition and Maggie is a living, breathing lie detector. So she was drowning herself in work, Dr. Abrams had just given her a bland stare when she was in his office that morning. "I'll give you the extra work because Anderson is out sick, but don't take this as an invitation to distract yourself because of your pregnancy." Sarah had only managed to make choking noises as she wished a hole would swallow her. "I'm a doctor, don't look so shocked. I will need to know what adjustments will need to be made to your schedule depending on your condition, but that can be handled at a later date. I will not tell anyone because I do not partake in hospital gossip, but I must ask that you refrain from talking about it excessively should you choose to share the news, this is a workplace."

"O-of course." So, now two people knew and neither of them was the father. But she was getting an abortion so what did it matter? Plus, Jimmy had gotten back together with Chilli for the... Third? Time... Honestly, she'd stopped keeping track because, to be frank, she wasn't a fan of gossip herself. So she was pushing everything but neurology to the back of her mind and focusing on her patients. It was actually helping, being methodical and relatively unemotional. She'd heard when she was a med student that Dr. Abrams was unnecessarily cruel but Sarah didn't believe that to be true at all. Sure he was cold and blunt, but in his field, there was even less room for error than there usually was when treating someone. Dousing bad odds in sugar wasn't going to make anything better and Sarah thought that his demeanour and the way he presented things actually made patients sober up and recognize just how serious he was being. And no, the man did not have a humble bone in his body, but everyone has flaws and considering how low his mortality rate is compared to other neurosurgeons, she considers it a flaw well-earned. 

Sarah was doing the pre-ops for a patient who was going to have a sizable brain tumour removed, the tumour was actually in the best spot possible, you know, considering it's a brain tumour. She was going to be scrubbing in provided she completed the pre-ops to Dr. Abrams' expectations. "Reese."

"Ah!" She whirled around to see Manning standing behind her a pensive look on the older woman's face. "Dr. Manning, you snuck up behind me." She placed her hand over her chest in an attempt to slow her racing heart, not just from being startled, but because now might be time for the confrontation she'd been working so diligently to avoid. "How else was I supposed to talk to you? You've been avoiding Maggie and I." 

"Not actively, I just have a lot of work to do. You know how much effort and time it takes to do a double specialty."

"Don't lie to me Reese, I know that something's wrong. We can help you, you just need to talk to us!"

"There is nothing wrong, though! I am fine, I just need you and Maggie to stop jumping down my throat."

"Wow, settle down, Sarah. You're not usually this irritable, so there definitely is something wrong."

"Dr. Manning I need my resident now, so if you could stop interrogating her in the hallway that would be wonderful." 

"Bye Dr. Manning."

"Reese-" Sarah turned back to Natalie to give her a quick thumbs up and smile, something she hoped would reassure her, before continuing behind Dr. Abrams at a speedy pace. "How's our patient doing?"

"His labs are good, cell count normal, temp hasn't gone up, the scans were a little concerning though. The tumour has gotten bigger since the last scan. By half a millimetre." Dr. Abrams stopped walking abruptly, grabbed the scan from the still speed-walking Sarah, and studied it intently while Sarah nearly tripped over herself trying to stop. "You are correct. His tumour is growing, we need to remove it today. It's impressive that a first-year resident caught that slight discrepancy. Scrub up and inform the head OR scheduling team." She nodded and ran ahead to the neuro nurse's station. 

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Dr. Abrams' steady hands delicately probed their patient's brain, carefully moving the scalpel to separate the tumour from the rest of the brain. Sarah was at his side studying his movements and answering all his questions. " And what do we do next Dr. Reese?"

"The tumour is ready to be removed, we place it in a surgical tray to get transferred to pathology to be tested."

"Good. I want you to take the tumour there personally, the growth rate is concerning. Attend to my post-ops afterwards."

"Of course Dr. Abrams." Sarah took his orders very seriously and refrained from doing a happy dance the second she exited the OR. The tumour was moved from the surgical tray to a plastic container marked for biological testing before she washed her arms and scrubbed down. As she headed to the elevator she noticed Maggie talking to the OR nurses stationed at the desk. Their eyes met and Sarah knew that Maggie, like Manning, weren't going to stop insisting she was acting differently until she wasn't. As the doors closed she took a deep breath and revelled in the relief that her abortion was tomorrow.

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Sarah finished her shift completely starving and a little disheartened. News of Robyn's admittance to the hospital had become widespread, she'd had to act like she hadn't already known when Doris jumped next to her in the cafeteria before flittering off to tell another person who had no business knowing that information. Sarah felt angry on Robyn's behalf, the poor woman was going through something so terrifying, and now she wasn't even able to defend herself from others slandering her. She'd wanted to say something to Doris, snap back at her, but the gossip had slithered away before she could even get a word out. 

Her day got even worse when Jimmy came in with a victim, riding in ambo 61 while Sylvie was on vacation visiting her parents. It was hands down the most awkward interaction ever. He handed off the patient to her, but then wouldn't go away. And Chilli was glaring at her the whole time. Sarah briefly considered that maybe they were on a break or having a tiff and he was trying to make the other paramedic jealous, and then just got more annoyed. She just looked at him incredulously before focusing back on the patient. He still didn't leave. "Jimmy, let's go restock... Jimmy. Let's go." She could feel his eyes boring into her and could feel her blood boiling. What was his problem? His job was done, it was time for her to do hers now. Instead, he was jabbering on about shrimp, the Blackhawks, and her hair, of all things. She closed the curtains on him, only for him to open them back up with a smug smile. All despite the fact that everyone was telling him to leave, Dr. Manning, April, Doris, Maggie. "Uh, hey, dude? Could you maybe leave her alone? She's supposed to fix my arm which has a shard of glass sticking out of it, not being creeped on by you." She couldn't believe it took her patient saying something to get him to leave.

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Sarah rolled her neck, trying to shake the day away while she relished in a moment of silence in her hiding place when Connor found her. "I heard that you had a pretty crappy morning."

"You could say that."

"So, Jimmy showed up?"

"He was a paramedic today."

"Well, that's debatable. Paramedics leave after they hand off a patient."

"Yeah, I know. It was... Really weird. Honestly, it's probably because he's working with Chilli and they're going through something."

"They're always going through something."

"Tell me about it."

"So what really happened? Cause I've heard a few different versions at this point."

"The ambulance called ahead with possible neurological damage, he was fine but it's better to be safe than sorry, and Jimmy just wouldn't leave. I was just trying to do my job and he was just standing there, watching me, and talking about my hair. He was asked to leave so many times, Dr. Manning, nurses, hell even his partner joined in. I tried to close the curtain twice but he just opened it again, and actually looked a little insulted that I did. I don't know what his deal was."

"Damn. I don't know him very well but he kinda seems like a tool."

"He is, but I wasn't exactly looking for anything long-term with him."

"Fair enough."

"Speaking of long-term relationships, how's Robyn doing? Your meeting with the hospital about her release is today, right?"

"Yeah, it's in an hour. Robyn's been doing good, I'm just trying to calm down right now."

"Nervous?"

"Angry."

"About?"

"Dr. Charles is her father who abandoned her and has spent the last several months trying to forge some kind of a relationship with her. He has no right to claim to know what's best for her, personal or professional. She was meeting with a psychiatrist, they'd come up with a treatment plan, she was actually talking about admitting herself to psych. But now? She's totally shut down, completely defensive, and I want to help her but she won't let me."

"Something to bring up to her is resuming treatment and all the plans she had before, just at a different hospital. Gaffney isn't the only hospital with psych facilities, Lakeshore's is actually better rated. So she'd still get treatment but her files wouldn't be accessible by her father and none of his orders regarding her care would be taken seriously, he doesn't have clearance there."

"That's a great idea, Sarah. Thank you, I'll make sure to bring it up with her."

"No problem. I really hope that Robyn gets proper treatment and as much space from her father as she wants."

"Me too. I should probably get going, I have to change out of my scrubs and meet with my lawyer before the meeting."

"Good luck!"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Reese, are you going to Molly's?"

"No, I'd rather go home and get some sleep."

"You haven't really been coming out with us a lot, are you okay?"

"Did I ever really go that often in the past?"

"Touché."

"And, I'm fine. Completely fine, but Manning and Maggie don't believe me and I suspect that they go to you too, Choi."

"Guilty as charged, we're just worried about you."

"But there is nothing to be worried about."

"You can't eat, you've been throwing up, you've somehow gotten even more private and secretive, and Borelli's been really weird lately. Always asking where you are, how you're doing, what your day was like, and then there was that whole incident in the ED. Something's going on, Sarah. We are worried about you."

"You're right, something's going on, but it's nothing bad and certainly nothing I can't handle myself."

"So there is something going on." She just sighed and gave him an exasperated look. He held his hands up in defence and sent a weak smile her way. "I guess I'll see you later then, Reese."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was abortion day, as Connor had so lovingly dubbed it. Sarah was nervous beyond belief and she had no idea why. It was a quick, painless procedure. A procedure she wanted. There was nothing to be afraid of. She'd been in an OR a couple of times to watch abortions being performed during her OB/GYN rotation. The procedure was simple and safe, there should not have been an entire damn zoo stomping around in her stomach, there was nothing to be nervous about... Right? The knots in her stomach kept twisting and twisting, bile was rising up her throat and she just couldn't hold it back. She barely made it to the bathroom in time. 

She spent ten minutes gripping the toilet bowl as her body shook and was drained of energy every time she opened her mouth. Her hair had clumps of vomit and toilet water infect her curls. She was cold everywhere but her throat which felt like it was burned with how raw it was. Tears prickled her eyes, but she had no idea why. Yes, she was going through hormone changes but she hadn't actually reached the hormone stage of pregnancy yet. Stage of pregnancy. She felt so strange whenever she thought about it, so she tried not to. She'd finished getting dressed in leggings and a sweater when her buzzer went off. Puzzled, she pressed the button on the intercom system. "Hello?"

"Sarah? Hi, it's Connor. I'm here to take you to the clinic for your procedure if you want. Just to be supportive and take you home after."

"Connor, you don't have to."

"I know, I'm offering. Everyone needs a support system. You've been mine while dealing with this whole Robyn debacle, I'll be yours through this."

"Thank you, Connor. I'll take you up on it, I'll be downstairs in a few minutes."

"Okay, see you then."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car ride was smooth and luxurious, solely because of Connor's high-end car. Inside, Sarah was nothing but nerves. The sinking feeling in her stomach that had been present since she booked the abortion got heavier and heavier the closer they got to the clinic. Connor was trying to keep the mood light by talking about how hectic med school had been in Guadulajara but was failing through no fault of his own, it was all Sarah's. When they actually made it to the clinic Sarah was on the verge of violently vomiting all over the interior of the car. "Sarah? Are you okay?"

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Sarah, you don;t have to do this if you don't want to."

"I know."

"Okay. Then take a deep breath, I've got you."

Sarah doesn't actually remember exiting the car on shakey legs. Or pushing through the mob of pro-life jackasses. Or being escorted to the admitting room by a security guard. One moment she was sitting in the passenger seat with Connor holding her hand and running his thumb across her knuckles and the next she was standing beside him in line to talk to the secretary who sat behind bullet-proof glass. The blue walls and colourful decor felt alien to her for some reason. "Name?"

"Sarah Reese." 

"And is this your support person?"

"Yes."

She answered the rest of the secretary's questions despite feeling like she was underwater, and was instructed to take a seat and wait for her name to be called. The longer she sat there, the more suffocated she felt, and Connor's supportive hand-holding and an arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders only did so much. It felt like they sat there for eternity, time dragging on in the most cruel, painful way. The woman who had been opening the frosted door to call out names and guide people through to the back reappeared. "Sarah Reese?" She didn't move. She couldn't. "Sarah?" This time it was Connor. "Sarah? Please say something, anything." She could feel the weight of everyone in the room staring at her. "I can't do this Connor."

"Okay, then let's get out of here."

[choicesenthusiast]

Queen B, Ch. 16 AKA Person to Watch Destroy Others’ Lives

What happened this week:

After one final round of beauty-pageant-esque questionnaire (shoutout to April 25th, the perfect date!), Thomas announces the winner of the crown: either you or Chloe, depending on how many diamonds you blew on this book. Either way, Poppy doesn’t win, and she goes absolutely berserk in front of everyone. Tragic, I know. She’s doing all the work for us. Also depending on how many diamonds you blew on this book, as well as if you have any morality left after reading this book, expose her dirty bastard secrets or not.

Speak of the devil, perhaps quite literally, run outside and straight up catfight Poppy in a musty-ass fountain. This either leads to a possible concussion or a musty-ass makeout, which, what the fuck, are such completely different options that it’s baffling you two end up laughing about the whole situation. Y’know, considering you were, quote: “ready to kill a bitch”.

Kingsley, butthurt over whatever situation they forced themselves into, is butthurt that you’ve taken advantage of said situation. Somehow this also could lead to musty-ass sex with the musty-ass professor in their musty-ass office, because you just crawled out of a musty-ass fountain. Also, how are we to forget the fact that this is the last thing you should be doing right now?

To further prove my point, someone’s completely hacked the T and publicly posted your greatest fear: those pictures of your dear professor and your silhouette from your little getaway. Yeah, those pictures. Actually, fingers crossed Kingsley gets fired from this so I can live out the rest of next year away from obsessive teachers and focus on petty bitches instead.

The voice of God tells us to watch our backs, because Queen B is indeed getting a book 2. That’s right, babes and bitches, we’re returning to Belvoire. I mean, if you didn’t know already, cause it was kind of a given.

In a bonus scene, your reward for collecting your posse like the sheep they are, you’re on summer vacation in Miami with either Zoey or Kingsley when your favourite mystery stalker snaps pictures of you. That’s one dedicated stalker. Also, why you were possibly on vacation with the one person you shouldn’t be seen around confuses me. It’s like Kingsley’s asking for incriminating evidence delivered to their doorstep.

Thoughts:

How am I supposed to feel about this finale? Definitely a little underwhelmed, I’d say. It was a little underwhelming. Like a half-complete burger. Most of the ingredients were there, but the meat wasn’t cooked enough for me to actually savour it, and it was gone too quickly. Maybe I’m just craving another burger.

This book was honestly so messy, but I, indeed a dramatic bitch, was unsurprisingly still into it anyway. What’ll I look forward to now that my hella problematic fave is out of the lineup for a bit? I always saw it as a standalone but I’m not opposed to a sequel, but if this means we’ll have to continue the Kingsley-centric plot and have Zoey sidelined again I will physically combust. PB having time to create a Zoey-covered-in-tomatoes sprite but not even a simple bikini? I have to laugh commit war crimes.

So the general consensus is that the mysterious A X could either be Benji: our first stalker, Discount Cecile Contreras: Kingsley’s first fan, or Persephone Dalton: Poppy’s first victim. Some people suspect a new character, but I think it just wouldn’t make sense for it to be some rando with no pre-established M.O. No matter who it is, we’ve been through our fair share of stalkers here in the Choices Universe, so this’ll be a walk in the park. Come to think of it, why has PB written so many stalker storylines?

Oh, well. I guess we’ll all be patiently waiting for the return of our favourite bitch pack. I certainly will. What do I have to lose?

[alarawriting]

52 Project #36: Escape from Sonnebend

Trigger warnings: This is a story about Meg. (Supervillain protagonist of my WIP novel, and the main character of story #18, “Thirteen”.) It does not have as much triggering content as the last story about her did, but Meg herself is triggering content. Story contains mentions of rape and torture, bioengineered diseases and horrible deaths. Also, being a victim of awful things doesn’t stop Meg from being a terrible person.

Title is shit and I may change it later.

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It’s been three days since anyone has ordered her to go anywhere, a week since she overhead two of the scientists talking about the future. Apparently Bush lost the election, and they expect Sonnebend to be shut down. Probably, the entire black ops agency that allows Sonnebend to exist will be shut down before Bill Clinton comes into power. She’d be eager to see it, except that she knows they’ll never let her go free. If Sonnebend is shut down, either they’ll send her to a different prison, keep her around to heal elderly politicians and work on their bioweapons… or they’ll kill her.

Activity has been winding down since mid-November. Now it’s mid-December and things are almost dead. High-powered researchers and administrators are taking their Christmas vacations. Meg doesn’t know if she’ll be alive when they come back. Are they moving their project to another location, or is it shutting down entirely? She doesn’t know if they know yet. She knows for a fact they’re not telling her.

Do they need to keep it open? They’ve got what they want.

She lays on the bed in her cell, because hiding under the bed doesn’t help. If she’s laying on the bed when the guards want to rape her, they’ll do it, and if she’s hiding under the bed, they’ll drag her out, beat her, and then do it. There’s no point to it. No point to trying to protect herself. No point in trying to protect anyone else.

Christmas is coming, but Meg strongly suspects she won’t live long enough to see it. Not like it matters. She remembers her last Christmas with David, the two of them in the tiny apartment on the 11th floor, a living tree that was heavy as fuck to carry but she’d gotten it up there with its pot and its soil, and she’d put it in the window so it would get sunshine, which meant they didn’t get any in the small common room because the tree was blocking it. David had experimented with chemical lights, blues and reds and greens and whites that ran on oxygen, slowly, and they’d covered the entire apartment with them, lights around every window they could see and lights around every door and lights criss-crossing the ceiling. She’d taken the drugs he was cooking up in order to test them, and as soon as she’d determined that they wouldn’t poison anyone, she’d let herself experience the high, giggling like the teenager she’d been as she lay back on the floor and pretended the ceiling lights were stars, making up fake constellations like The Butthole and Zeus’ Balls. All that December, she’d made cookies, pizzelle and horn cookies and Christmas-shaped iced sugar cookies and traditional New York black and white cookies, and eaten most of them because David had had a chronic low appetite and not much taste for sugar anyway. And then on Christmas she’d given him a Nintendo and a couple of games, and he’d given her a dozen CDs and Stuffy, a stuffed white and gray cat.

In August of the following year, the Special Service killed David, in his bedroom, unarmed. His blood ended up all over Stuffy. Meg never washed it out. His DNA embedded in her plush fur would comfort Meg when she cuddled Stuffy at night; it was a memorial no ordinary human would respond to, except perhaps in the abstract, but Meg could feel David’s DNA in the splatters of his blood. Slowly decaying – there wasn’t a lot of DNA in blood in the first place, since red blood cells don’t have nuclei, and it doesn’t last forever. But it was still there, the last time she saw Stuffy. In the townhome she shared with Tara, in her bedroom.  

Is Tara still there? Is any of her stuff still there? It’s December. She was kidnapped in April. The billing service would probably have continued to pay the rent, but if Tara had moved out, Meg’s checks wouldn’t be enough to keep the lease.

Does it matter? Does any of it matter? She’s never getting out of here alive, is she? She’ll never see Stuffy or any of her other things or Tara or the apartment again.

She wants to cry, but she can’t. There’s no safety here, nowhere they can’t see her.

Four diseases, two viruses and two deadly bacteria, tailored to strike only Proximas. They’ll breed in the presence of catalysine, or they’ll look for the Proxima gene and insert themselves into the DNA there, breaking it in a way that will slowly poison them. They gave her no choice, but that’s a lie, there are always choices. She could have found a way to kill herself. She could have forced them to trigger the bomb around her neck. She could have waited until they had her in the sealed room, with the collar off, tasked with healing some important old man… and she could have killed whichever man she was supposed to fix that day, and forced her captors to shoot her.

But Meg wants to live. She did something terrible because she wanted to live, and she didn’t want to be tortured. She made those diseases. They gave her no freedom to do anything but study, genetics and biology and chemistry, on top of her medical school training and the training David used to give her in neurobiochemistry, and she used that knowledge to do what they asked. Because she knew they would check.

She remembers the blue homeless man vomiting, over and over, until he had no electrolytes left in his body and he died. The prostitute who could make a light show dance over her body, shaking and seizing until she was dead. The old man whose power mitochondria went into impossibly high gear, burning up all the phosphate and magnesium in his body to make too much ATP, and then his telekinetic power going out of control and tearing him apart. The homeless teenager crying as the poisons built up in his body. All her fault, and there will be thousands more, maybe millions, if her captors release the diseases they made her make into the population.

She hates herself, but she wants desperately to live, because she knows how to undo them all. She can immunize her people. She can. If she can get out of here alive. But the collar that suppresses her powers has a bomb in it. If she were to leave this place with it still around her neck… it would be the last thing she ever did.

There’s a click in the lock. Meg doesn’t look. She has no power over what’s going to happen, and if she turns her head to look, if she sits or stands up, if she visibly braces herself… then they’ll know she cares. They’ll know they’re hurting her, they’re frightening her. And she won’t give them the satisfaction… not until she can’t help herself, anyway. Without access to her powers, she only has a normal human ability to control herself.

“Get up,” a harsh female voice says.

Well. Small mercies. This isn’t going to be a rape, most likely. And they don’t torture her much anymore, not since she started cooperating. Torture doesn’t really work to get information – she knows that well, having tried it several times when she was a teen thug working for drug lords – but it works very well to terrorize people into doing as they’re told. But she’s been doing as she’s told. So it probably won’t be that.

It could be the execution she’s been expecting, but even if it is, there’s nothing she can do about it.

Meg gets up. Slowly, but not so slowly that the guard will decide she’s being insolent and shock her. The collar suppresses her powers, and it keeps her from escaping because of the bomb, but it’s also got electroshock capabilities, that all the guards can trigger by remote any time they want to. Electroshock’s how they captured her the first time – they went after her with the Special Service, the cops in hardsuits that her powers can’t get through, and the Special Service shocked her over and over, until her powers couldn’t handle keeping her conscious, and then while she was unconscious they put the collar on her neck. Since then, they’ve been able to shock her any time they want to, and they use it, frequently. Especially when they think she’s not being deferential enough.

She’s a former street kid and assassin for gangsters. She was living on her own since the age of 17. She went to superhero school with people who hated her, who’d fought her – and lost—when she was a supervillain. And she’s from Brooklyn. None of this lends itself well to respecting anyone’s authority or being deferential; she gave that up when she was thirteen and traded in a life as a Catholic school girl for a life in the criminal underworld. So when she first got to Sonnebend, they shocked her a lot.

She’s learned, though. Meg keeps her hate and her rage and her desire to commit bloody murder out of her eyes, out of her body language. If she ever has the chance, everyone who works here will die… but she’ll never have the chance, and she knows it.

The guard’s a black woman, head shaved, muscular. What progress America has made, Meg thinks bitterly. Now you can be a government thug and torturer even if you’re female and black! The guard motions her out the door, where there’s a second guard, this one a generic bland-looking dark-haired white man like practically every other guard in this place. “Keep moving,” the black woman says.

“Where are you taking me?” Meg asks. “What’s going on?”

“Keep your mouth shut,” the black woman says, but doesn’t shock her.

They’re taking her to her execution. She’s sure of it. Two guards usually escort her when she is taken anywhere, but she doesn’t recognize either of these two, and they’re not walking her in the right direction to be going either to the labs or the chamber with the one-way glass where she heals powerful old men, collar off but guns trained on her outside the chamber where she can’t see.

For a moment, Meg considers the possibility of killing these two guards. Even without her powers, she can fight; the absurd things she can do when she has her powers, the power-jumps, extending her arms, making tentacles, all that kind of thing… those are icing on the cake. All she needed to do to learn martial arts at master level was to find a dojo where the sensei had advanced skills and the urethane on the wooden floor had worn away enough that she could reach into her sensei with her powers and copy what he was doing down to the level of specific nerves firing and muscles contracting, and now she’s an expert. She could, maybe, grab the white guy, use judo to throw him into the black woman, then kick both of them in the jaw hard enough to snap their necks.

But what good would it do? She sees no evidence that they’re carrying keys that could unlock the collar; usually only a couple of specific people carry those keys, which have a distinctive appearance and are too large to hide in a pocket, and they wait for her in the chamber rather than walking around the base with them. She can’t get out, and any one of the guards can trigger the electroshock remotely, without even being near her, so she can’t escape. And if escape isn’t possible, what’s the point to killing these guys? It might make her feel better, for a few moments, but their friends will blow up her head, so it won’t help.

So she walks, with the white guy in front and the black woman behind, down a corridor she’s never traveled before. And probably never will again.

There’s a checkpoint, right before a door outside. The guard at the checkpoint looks up. “Where’s she going?”

“Where you think?” the black woman says, and hands him a sheaf of paper.

The checkpoint guy – another generic white dude, with sandy blond hair instead of black – looks at the papers, and then chuckles. “So I guess Williams and Becker aren’t getting a piece tonight, huh,” he says, and confirms what Meg suspects. Those are her execution papers. The guards who rape her nearly every night aren’t going to have the chance to tonight, because she’ll be dead.

Once again she considers killing them all. It won’t save her life, but at least it’ll take down a few of them with her. Once again she lets it go. Maybe, if she has a chance while she’s outside, since it looks like they’re taking her outside to do it. But she wants to see the sun again. If they’re going to bring her outside to kill her… then at least she won’t die in this nightmare building, where she hasn’t seen so much as a window since she was captured.

Is there snow outside? She doesn’t even know where Sonnebend is; no one’s ever told her what state they’re in, and with no windows, she can’t look at the sun and plants and try to guess. It could be Texas. It could be Florida. It’s probably not either since there aren’t enough guards with Latino names, but maybe it’s North Dakota. Maybe it’s Indiana. She has no way to tell.

The white guy with her chuckles, just a second later than you’d expect, like he’s not a native speaker and took a moment to parse what was just said. The black woman doesn’t. Stone-faced, she takes back the sheaf of papers. “Get moving,” she says to Meg, motioning her toward the door.

Outside, they’re behind the building. There’s a dumpster, and a loading dock, a short distance away. The black woman makes Meg walk in the opposite direction, along a wall with no windows or doors in it, nothing but unbroken beige brick. It’s cold; Meg’s breath makes clouds in the air. But there’s no snow. In the distance there’s grass and trees, but where they’re walking, there’s nothing but concrete. Meg stares hungrily at the grass and trees, at the sun in the sky, at the clouds overhead and in front of her mouth, as if she can make up for eight months of never seeing them by looking at them really hard, right now.

“Kneel down,” the black woman orders, and the tears Meg hasn’t shed in months well up. Not for herself. She has this coming. She may have tried to reform – first by being a superhero, then by becoming a doctor – but she’s always been a terrible person. She murdered her father, and then she became a murderer for hire, and then she’d helped David design drugs, and then she’d been a murderer again. She’d been a vicious jealous bitch around her first boyfriend, and had seduced her second, a man three times her age, just so she could take him away from her mentor. And then she’d gone to medical school, she’d tried to be a better person, but they’d kidnapped her and made her make diseases and because she was too weak to stand up to torture, many, so many, people will die. She’ll never have a chance to undo what she had done, to protect the Proximas of the US, or the world, against the engineered plagues she was terrorized into creating.

“Oh, you gonna cry now?” the black woman said.

“Fuck you,” Meg snarled through the tears. “I know you’re gonna kill me, so just do it.”

The woman sighed like she was at the end of her patience. “Kneel down, girl.”

“No. Shoot me standing up. I’m not gonna kneel to any of you anymore.”

“Have it your way,” the woman says, and points her gun at Meg.

It goes off, a deafening sound, but nothing that happens after that makes any sense. Meg sees her own body topple backward behind her, turning in time to see it fall, but she hasn’t been hit. There’s no pain. Is she a ghost? There’s her own bloody, headless corpse on the ground, and the black woman and the white man dragging the body off, but the black woman is also still here, tapping her foot.

“What—”

“Figure it out yet?” the black woman asks, and turns blue. The azurin mutation. In a small percentage of Proximas, melanin converts to azurin instead, and the person ends up blue. White people turn pale blue, with blue or green or purple hair, and black people turn deep blue, with blue eyes and blue hair. The buzzcut vanishes, replaced by a bright blue Afro that in shape and fluffiness looks like it came straight out of Cleopatra Jones. The woman’s face also changes, subtly, small aspects of eye shape and cheekbone placement altering, so she looks similar to the woman she was before, but not the same. Like sisters, or cousins. Except that one of them’s blue. Which means Proxima.

“You’re a Proxima?” Meg asks. She can’t quite believe this is really happening. She can still see the brown woman with the buzzcut and the dark-haired white man dragging her own corpse toward the corner of the building. Is this like Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge or something?

“Sure fucking am,” the blue woman says, and puts out her hand. “Shadow. Illusionist. And you’re Megamorph, the bio-controller.”

Meg has never heard her power referred to as bio-control, but it makes sense. Any organic tissue she’s touching, she can do nearly anything to, and any organic tissue she can reach through an organic channel, like a wooden floor or a shaggy wool carpet, it’s the same as if she’s touching it. She takes Shadow’s hand, tentatively. “Why… if you’re an illusionist, couldn’t you have told me what you were doing to begin with?” The tears are still in her eyes. Angrily, she wipes them away.

“Conserving power. I have to create the illusion of what they expect to be happening, and hide what we’re actually doing. The more you move around, the harder it is. Now kneel down. I was serious about that part.”

“Why?”

“Hard to rescue you if you’re missing a head,” Shadow says, and pulls off her belt something that looks almost, but not exactly, like the keys that unlock Meg’s collar.

“Those don’t look right. Are you sure they’ll work?” Meg hates that she sounds plaintive, almost whiny… but if Shadow’s here to rescue her, she really doesn’t want to get her head blown up on the verge of freedom.

“Tested them already. They’ve got some collared corpses in the pit around the corner.”

There’s a pit around the corner full of dead bodies. This doesn’t surprise Meg in any way – it makes perfect sense – but it horrifies her, hitting her in a nerve she’d have thought burnt out by all the horror she’s endured. Her knees go out from under her, which she manages to make look as if she’s kneeling like Shadow told her to, rather than that she’s half collapsing.

Shadow puts the key to the collar. There’s a clicking sound. Meg holds her breath despite herself.

And then the collar falls to the ground.

It works by magnetic induction, suppressing the part of her brain that controls her body’s production of catalysine, and suppressing the part that allows her to perceive and control her powers. Stopping the magnetic induction doesn’t instantly replenish her body’s catalysine, and without the catalysine, she doesn’t yet have any powers to perceive and control. So she doesn’t feel any different. “My powers will come back, right?” she asks, knowing it’s a stupid question – she knows how the collar works, she knows how Proxima powers work probably better than anyone. She knows they’ll come back. But at the moment, she feels painfully young, and not like an expert on anything. She wants Shadow to reassure her the way a mother might reassure a child.

Shadow nods, her expression gentle. “Of course they will,” she says. She reaches a hand down and helps Meg to her feet. “We need to get out of here.”

“Wait.” Meg takes a deep breath. She doesn’t want to admit to this, but she won’t let people die for her pride. “Do you know if… that pit, are there any of the victims there? The experimental subjects, of the bio-engineered diseases?”

“I figure that’s probably where they are, yeah,” Shadow says.

“I’m sorry, but… is there any way you can cover me to get in there? I… they made me make those diseases. I have to stop them, but I couldn’t keep samples. It’ll be a lot easier to inoculate people if I can get samples…”

Shadow grins. “Oh, yeah. We knew all about those diseases. That’s why the World Unity Collective decided to rescue you.”

World Unity Collective is Caesar Primus’ group, a supervillain gang dedicated to creating a world where the Proximas of the world unite and take over, which is supposed to bring about a utopia for everyone, Sapiens and Proxima alike. Meg thought it was a stupid idea when she first heard about it, training with Peace Force Tau, and she still thinks so. Proximas are different from Sapiens by exactly one gene, and there is absolutely no reason to think Proximas will treat the world any better than Sapiens have. But she doesn’t care anymore.

Over and over, in her prison, she called out in her mind, begging her mentor to hear her. Suri Chandrasekhar is the leader of the Peace Force, and an incredibly powerful telepath. Suri knew where Meg was going to medical school; if she was paying attention, if she cared, she would know Meg had been kidnapped, and with her powers she should have been able to find Meg… if she was looking. But she hadn’t. No rescue came from the Peace Force. And right now, Meg has reasons to hate Sapiens – reasons that are illogical, because there are billions of Sapiens and they cannot possibly all be responsible for the torments she’s suffered over the past eight months, but Meg’s reasons for hate are rarely all that logical anyway. If it’s Proxima supremacists who’ve rescued her, then yay for Proxima supremacy.

“I’ll ask you how you knew about the diseases later,” Meg says.

“Yeah. Let’s get this done quick.”

***

The pit’s covered with a tarp. As soon as she peels the tarp back, Meg has to shut off her sense of smell. She hasn’t eaten since the terrible cafeteria-grade scrambled eggs for breakfast, so there’s nothing in her stomach anymore – it’s all moved on to the intestines by now -- but if she had to smell this without her powers, she’d be puking up all of the nothing in her stomach over everything.

It’s not hard to find her diseases. There’s maybe twenty bodies in here, tangled together in a heap, most in a fairly advanced state of rot. All of them are infected. Or were, when they were alive. Apparently Sonnebend doesn’t kill lots and lots of people as a general rule. This isn’t a concentration camp; it’s a research facility, where part of the research is on how to kill people with diseases. And since the people had to be Proximas, that limited the supply; only one in ten thousand people has that one gene that differentiates Sapiens from Proximas. Can’t very well murder five thousand people in testing a disease if you have to screen fifty million to find them.

The viruses are easy. With the machinery of the cells stopped, they’re not replicating, but a lot of them are intact, easy to capture. The bacteria are harder. They’ve been dying since they killed their hosts. But there are a couple of subjects that still have live bacteria. Meg pulls them in and stores them in tiny nodules of fatty tissue in her breast, with no capillaries feeding them so they don’t have much chance to get out into her bloodstream. Not that it would matter; Meg’s powers automatically destroy any organic matter that would trigger an immune response. She can’t get sick. Even at Sonnebend, the fact that they removed her collar every few days so she could heal some politician or CEO or important donor meant that she couldn’t get sick; in the hour or so she had her powers, her body would destroy any potential source of infection. She’s going to have to be more careful to make sure her body doesn’t annihilate these infectious agents before she has a chance to engineer an inoculation or cure than she will to make sure they don’t actually infect her.

She climbs back out of the pit, with Shadow’s help. “I’m done. I’ve got everything I need.”

“Then let’s get the fuck out of here, okay?” Shadow says, and ten minutes later, they’re in a car parked outside the barbed wire fence, driving away.

“It’ll take them some time to figure out you’re not dead,” Shadow says, driving the car with a cigarette in her hand. “I took back the fake papers for your execution, so they’ll have a hard time figuring out who authorized it, or where I went, or who I even was. If they compare video feed of the outdoors to the indoors, they’ll see me and the fake guy I made walk back through the door but then never show up at the checkpoint right inside, and maybe that’ll give them a clue, but none of their video will have anything real.” She takes a deep drag from the cigarette. Meg wants to warn her about lung cancer and suggest she quit, but she looks up to Shadow too much to be her condescending prick doctor persona.

“What were you doing? Manipulating light?”

Shadow nods. “And sound, but fuck it’s hard. It’s so much easier for me if I just work on the brain. Altering myself and making another dude is almost the limit of what I can do with sound and light, whereas if I’m going in through the brain, I can make people see a full Hollywood spectacular. Aliens shooting laser guns all over the place. An army of Picts with bows and arrows. Whatever I want.”

“That’s really cool,” Meg says, somewhat awestruck. “Doesn’t that mean you really have two powers? Because a psionic illusion power and the ability to manipulate sound and light sounds like it’s two entirely different things.”

Shadow takes another drag on the cigarette. “Used to just be the psionic part. I got fixed up by a guy named Giovanni. Told him I wanted to be able to fool cameras. Closed-circuit cams were getting big around then. It was hard to pull a job when the security guys can see you on the cam, even if they can’t as soon as they get close enough to use their eyes.”

“Wait… this Giovanni guy can give people powers?”

“Yeah, though all he does is give Proximas new powers. He won’t give powers to a Sapien and he’s got some weird rule about what kind of powers he’ll give a Proxima, but what I wanted sounded to him like it’d work with what I already got. Gives me a motherfucking headache if I overuse it. I gonna need a whole fucking bottle of Tylenol tonight.” She laughs.

Meg puts her hand on Shadow’s shoulder. “No, you won’t,” she says. Her power can hurt when she invades people with it, unless she’s working to numb them or make them feel good, neither of which is safe to do while someone is driving… but it only takes a second, barely time for Shadow’s body to register that Meg’s power is inside it, to clear away the tension that’ll lead to a migraine.

Shadow turns her head. “What the fuck you doin’, girl?” she demands.

“I fixed it,” Meg says, beaming. “So you won’t get a migraine. I owe you a lot more than that, but that’s the least I can give back to you.”

For some reason Shadow does not look happy. She rolls her eyes and slumps slightly forward against the steering wheel, which is all right because they’re at a traffic light. “Listen, kid. I know you meant well, and I’m not mad. But you can’t just go doing things to people’s bodies without even telling them, let alone asking them. You gotta ask permission. If it’s a friend or an ally, anyway. I could give a shit, what you do to enemies and Sapiens, but with friends and allies you ask.”

“Oh.” Meg feels terrible. She’s overstepped a boundary she should have remembered, because in Peace Force Tau, Suri told her this, but she’s so excited to have her powers back and so grateful to Shadow and so desperate to show that gratitude, she forgot. “I’m sorry. I, I really should’ve known better, it’s just, I’ve been locked up so long… I’m really sorry…”

“Look, kiddo, forget it. S’alright. No harm done, and I do feel better. Just, remember next time. Ask.” She pronounces the word as “axe”. This makes Meg feel strangely nostalgic. One of her best friends from the days right after she got her powers, a teenage prostitute named Rhonda who was one of the most level-headed people Meg has ever known, used to talk that way. Most of the girls she’d known in those days had, actually. Whereas no one in the Peace Force or medical school would have used anything less than 100% proper English, like back in Catholic school.

***

It turns out Sonnebend is in Minnesota, near the Great Lakes. World Unity Collective headquarters is in Florida. They’re going to drive to Chicago to use something called a “transmat” to teleport to Florida, but lake-coast Minnesota to Chicago in Illinois is still what Shadow calls a “long-ass drive”. “We’d go faster if we had a boat,” Shadow jokes, and shows Meg the route on the map.

There are explanations. Shadow won’t tell her how she knew about the diseases – “you’re not cleared to know that, yet,” she says – but she explains eagerly why Meg was recruited. “We figured, since you created the bioweapons, you’d know how to stop them… and you might be able to stop others they come up with. Or create ones to threaten them with, if they keep pulling this kind of shit.”

“I don’t want to create bioweapons. Not against Proximas, not against Sapiens, not against anybody.”

“I hear you,” Shadow says. “You don’t have to. You do whatever you feel comfortable with, for the cause.”

Shadow talks a lot about the cause. Talks about being thrown out of her home for being a “devil child”, when she was 12 and turning from brown to blue. Talks about the Human Definition Amendment, a thing some conservative Senator has proposed that will define “human”, in the law, to mean “Sapien”, meaning Proximas will essentially legally be wild animals, with no legal protections whatsoever. Talks about Proximas being killed as “witches” in Africa, especially the ones with the azurin mutation, who couldn’t hide being Proximas, and being turned into weapons for the government in Russia and China and who knew where else.

Talks about the Special Service killing unarmed Proximas who are suspected of crimes, and that one hits hard, because that’s exactly what happened to David. His power was to see chemistry at the atomic level, completely useless for fighting, and he was a skinny twenty-something nerd and he wore coke-bottle glasses with a tint because he was photophobic, and he was unarmed, and they’d gunned him down in his apartment, and Meg had only lived because he’d sent her on an errand to find his lawyer. Because she’d assumed, when he said he’d need his lawyer after they arrested him, that of course, that was normal, that was how it worked. She was pretty sure he’d known they were coming to kill him, and had sent her on that errand because they’d have killed her too.

Caesar Primus – it means “Emperor First” and it’s pronounced the Latin way, like “Kaiser”, not like the salad – is, according to Shadow, the smartest and most experienced man on the planet. Meg assumes the experienced part is probably true, because apparently, he is somewhere around 2,000 years old, and was a gladiator in ancient Rome. She’s not so sure about smartest. The guy apparently still believes that Sapiens and Proximas are different species. A lot of people believe that, but mostly they are idiots, or at the very least, they know nothing of science.

He’s also bought into a lot of silly ideas about evolution, or claims he has and teaches them to his people. Shadow tells Meg that Proximas are the next evolution of humanity, superior because they are more evolved, destined to rule over humanity, and will survive instead of Sapiens because they are stronger. Meg can identify five errors in Shadow’s concepts of evolution off the top of her head, without any kind of deep dive, but she says nothing. If Shadow wants her to worship at the altar of Caesar Primus… Meg hasn’t done worship at an altar since she left Catholic school, not for anyone, but for Shadow’s sake, she’ll pretend.

And if it’s true, as Shadow implies, that Primus sent her to go rescue Meg, then she owes him as much for her freedom as she owes Shadow.

***

A transmat turns out to be a platform, where you put in some coordinates, step on the platform, and are instantly somewhere else, on a transmat platform elsewhere. It reminds Meg of Star Trek transporters, but makes more sense – she’d always wondered, how did the transporter beam know how to reassemble when it got where it was going?

The base is in a swamp, and the only ways out of the base are either to wade through alligator-infested waters, or take the transmat. Or fly, she supposes, for those that can do that. Wading would be annoying, but can’t hurt her; neither mosquitoes nor alligators, nor anything else in the water, can cause her any harm. But it’s obvious to her that that’s not going to be true for most people, and it bothers her a little. If the cause is so wonderful and important, why make it so hard to leave the base?

“It’s not to make it hard to leave,” Shadow explains. “It protects us from so-called superheroes, and it means that if you want to go anywhere, you have to take a risk. Keeps you strong.”

“But if you’re going by transmat that’s not a risk.”

“Yeah, but you can’t go anywhere by transmat unless Caesar agrees.”

The building’s far too much like Sonnebend. It’s made of concrete rather than bricks, a big brutalism box in the middle of a swamp, and there are windows all over the upper floors, but it goes down several floors underground. Sonnebend had linoleum tile and World Unity Collective headquarters has concrete flooring, like a warehouse, but either way there’s nothing alive, nothing for her powers to sense through her feet or the canvas shoes she makes herself from rubber and cotton. She’s not going to spend much time here, she can already tell.

“I need to go back to Baltimore,” she tells Shadow. “I don’t know what happened to anything I owned when I was kidnapped.”

Shadow is skeptical. “Do you really need any of that stuff, or do you just have a sentimental attachment to it?” she asks. “Revolutionaries have to be ready to break free of any material possessions, at any time. You can’t have sentiment. And here, your room and board are provided for, and I know with your powers you can make your own clothes whenever you want…”

“I want my medical textbooks,” Meg says. “I was trying to become a doctor when they kidnapped me.”

Now Shadow raises an eyebrow. “You think being a doctor is the best way to serve the cause?”

Meg smiles. That particular smile is the last thing some gangsters saw, once upon a time. “To heal, you need to know intimately how the body works and how everything fits together. That’s also what you need to know to be really creative about hurting people. You know, if it’s going to advance the cause to hurt someone in a particularly creative way.”

That makes Shadow laugh. “Oh yeah, I knew I was right about you. You’re gonna be a fantastic asset to the team, Meg.”

There’s no one else important in the base right now – Primus is apparently in DC, and his other top-ranked minions are away on various missions. No one here but Proximas with low power levels who work as grunts. Thugs, like she was once. The only person here to give permission for transmat use is Shadow, and she’s all in favor of Meg getting her medical textbooks once she understands what Meg can use them for.

Except that Meg’s read them all already. The term had been about to end when she was kidnapped. Her ability to directly sense bodies and how they worked had gotten her through med school in record time – she’d been there a year, and she’d learned two years’ worth in that time – and then Sonnebend had taught her more, because to create the diseases they wanted her to create, or heal the ailments of rich old men, she’d needed to know more. It’d been all she had to do that gave her any kind of pleasure in any way.

She’s not going back for medical textbooks. Shadow the true believer can give up material possessions and eliminate sentiment, if she wants. Meg believes in very little of this bullshit. She just worships Shadow for saving her.

World Unity Collective maintains a transmat in Grand Central Station, and Shadow’s able to advance Meg some cash, since of course she doesn’t currently have an ATM card, a credit card, or checks. Meg takes the subway from Grand Central to Penn Station, and from there the Amtrak to Baltimore, and then a cab to the Johns Hopkins medical school campus.

***

Meg walks down the street to the townhome she used to share with her roommate, breathing in the winter air. She can't stop looking at the buildings, the trees without their leaves, the sun behind the solid wall of white winter clouds. The people. There are so many people and they're so beautiful and they know nothing about the way the world really works, nothing at all. She wants to kill them, to save them, to tell them the truth. To take the men, at least, home and screw their brains out because she's free to choose not to, now. She doesn't do any of that.

She doesn't have the key to her old apartment any more, but the music inside tells her that her housemate Tara is there right now. Meg knocks, hard.

Tara opens the door. "Meg?" she asks, sounding shocked.

"Is my stuff still here?" Meg asks.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, of course. The landlady was just wondering where you were -- she says she's been getting your rent checks in the mail, but she sent us a note about the electric bill going up and you didn't increase the amount you were paying, and she was trying to get hold of you, but I had no idea where you were so I just paid it for you."

"I'll reimburse you." Meg walks into the apartment. She looks around the place. Everything is just as she left it. "Pack up my stuff for me and I'll have movers come get it. I'll pay the landlady for your share of the rent for the next two months."

"What happened to you, Meg? Where did you go?"

How does one explain that one was kidnapped by the government and has spent the past several months being raped, tortured and forced to work on biological weapons? One doesn't. "Something came up."

Stuffy is still sitting on her bed, David’s dried blood still all over her. Dried blood looks brown; she explained the stains on Stuffy as chocolate sauce to everyone in Peace Force Tau. Tara never went into Meg’s own bedroom, so she never had to make that explanation. Meg picks up Stuffy and puts her in her coat. She suddenly wants to cry, but badass supervillains don't cry, so she uses her powers to suppress the urge. She's going to have to figure out somewhere to put her. Obviously she can’t bring a stuffed animal back to a base full of supervillains.

"Meg, are you okay?"

She doesn't look at the Sapien who used to be her friend. "I'm fine," she says shortly, and thinks, No. Not even slightly.

Back on the street, it's cold and crisp and she can walk anywhere she wants. She can walk to a hot dog cart and get a hot dog. So she does. And ice cream. The whole time she was imprisoned she never had ice cream.

Tears sting her eyes again. Stupid that she has to keep using her powers for this. She should be tougher than this. She stopped crying after the first month in prison, never did it again until she thought Shadow was about to kill her. Why is she crying now?

When she was at Sonnebend, she never stopped wishing for her freedom, but she stopped believing or even hoping she would ever be able to walk around on a city street and buy a hot dog ever again. And then Shadow walked into Sonnebend and brought her out like Orpheus freeing Eurydice from Hades, except of course that Orpheus hadn't succeeded in the end. And Shadow did that because Caesar Primus had ordered her to. Most likely. She’d never specifically said, but Meg could read between the lines.

If Primus sent her to rescue Meg, Meg will do anything for him.

Meg knows his ideology is ridiculous. Right now she doesn't care. She'll burn the Sapiens' world down for what they did to her, and she'll enjoy herself doing it. Out of gratitude for the gift of her freedom, she will do anything for the people who saved her.

She’s got financial things to arrange – Meg has a lot of money. Being the most terrifying killer in New York City used to pay really well. She’ll reimburse Tara, get movers to take all her stuff to a storage unit. Buy some clothes – she doesn’t need new clothes, since her powers can reshape the ones she has, but she likes to shop for clothes. She likes to dress up in clothes that make every man around want to fuck her, and maybe she’ll pick some of them out and do it. She hasn’t had sex because she wanted to in eight months. Maybe she’ll fuck away some of the memories of Sonnebend before going back to Primus’ hideout.

And then she’s going to be the most vicious badass she can possibly be, with all the skills she acquired as a teenage assassin and all the knowledge she gained in Peace Force Tau, and Johns Hopkins medical school, and Sonnebend. She’s going to combine it all and she’s going to make Shadow proud of rescuing her, and Primus of telling her to do it. And she’s going to make humanity pay for what they did to her.

[ladynestaarcheron]

Like Pristine Glass - Chapter Nineteen

ao3 - ff.net - masterpost

(tagging these cuties: @humanexile @skychild29 @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @candid-confetti  @rhysandsrightknee @missing-merlin @azriels-forgotten-shadow @books-and-cocos @sezkins79 @city-of-fae @someonemagical @dusty-lightbulb @messyhairday-me @rinad307 @superspiritfestival)

back after my exam hiatus!! so without further ado, here we go!

---

February 12 - 4 years after

The sun is barely shining before Nesta has rushed out to—who else?—Zeyn's house.

She can hear him taking his time as he makes his way to the door and she bounces on the balls of her feet. It's not an emergency...yet. But she doesn't like the minutes ticking by, with Cassian home alone with the three of them.

His warm brown eyes are bleary only for a second before he realizes it is her standing before him, and then they fly open.

"Nesta? What are you—is everyone all right?"

"We need to take Ollie to see his healer," she says.

"All right, I'll get my shoes. But—you didn't bring him?"

Nesta winces. Poor wording on her part, indeed. "No," she says. "I meant...Cassian and I are taking him. I...need you to come be with Avery and Nicky."

Zeyn, to his credit, does not flinch. His concern slips into something else, something she cannot name, for only a fraction of a second before it is back. "Of course. Just a minute, yeah?"

And he reappears less than a minute later, boots laced, shutting the door behind him. They set off together.

He doesn't even ignore her. "Are you worried?"

"I'm always worried," she says. "It's not the worst it's ever been, but...it's been a while." It had been six months since Nicky had coughed badly enough to need to see a healer. She remembers holding him in the first minutes after his birth—she hadn't been given him right away, like his siblings, because even then there had been something wrong with his lungs.

Zeyn must sense where her mind has run off to, because he reaches out and squeezes her hand. "If you think it's not that bad, you're probably right. You're going to see a healer. Everything will be fine."

She shoots him a shaky, grateful smile.

"Are Ava and Nicky awake?"

"I don't think so. Not when I left."

"All right...just get them ready and take them to nursery?"

"Yes, I already packed their things...if Avery won't put on a jacket, don't argue with her, but bring it along and give it to her teacher."

"Is that still going on?"

"Don't get me started," she grumbles. They round the corner and walk up the path to the house. Nesta holds out her hand to stop him. "Zeyn," she starts. Pauses. "Thank you."

It's not enough...there's more to say, she knows. But it does it, for now. And she has more pressing matters at hand, anyway.

---

April 12 - Year of

With the dawn of spring came dramatic change in the shop. Whatever winter wear had not been sold was tucked away in storage, and the switching out of the clothier's merchandise had inspired Nesta to do the same in Cassian's home.

Cassian did not have much to begin with, of course. But she felt she could rearrange the furniture in her bedroom.

Not that she had done much to make the place "hers"—in fact, she was not quite sure how. The little apartment she had rented in Velaris was the closest thing she had ever had to her own home, and she hadn't done much in the way of decor there. Briefly, she wondered if it was still in her name, or if Feyre had stopped paying the rent.

She decided she didn't care much. She was never going to go back to Velaris. Even if Cassian did still take his trips there.

While it was true that she had never purchased any bedding or curtains or a vanity, the subscription Cassian had gotten her for Solstice—NightWrite—had provided her with little knick-knacks. She had thrown out anything with Night Court insignia, but kept most of it. So pushing her bed to one side of the room and moving her bookshelf to the other was also accompanied by shuffling around of these objects.

It was during this...rather useless endeavor, she could admit to herself, of switching the order of the tiny figurines on her shelf, that she found it—the old flyer she had taken from the bar in the town center. The one advertising ships to that land across the sea. Gilameyva.

Nesta sat down on the bed. This is the paper that had inspired her, all those months ago, to get a job. To save up and go.

Since she never bought much of anything, she definitely had enough to book comfortable passage. She could go. Just set sail and...never come back.

Or maybe she could go...somewhere else. On a vacation. And then she would...come back. Didn't people plan for summer holidays months in advance? She could bring it up to Cassian now. Couldn't she?

But no, that would be insane. She had to save up. Because she was not going to live in his house forever. And where would she live? Would she build herself a house here, in the Illyrian mountains?

The flyer in her hand seemed to mock her. An idyllic land far away where no one knew the name Nesta Archeron. A fresh start.

For what she could not admit to herself, but what she had just started to understand was: she did not want a fresh start somewhere else. She wanted to stay with Cassian.

When had the switch happened in her mind? When did this pull between them not become so irritating? When had she decided to make her bedroom more comfortable, make her mark more permanent?

She didn't know. The only thing she was certain of was that this current state of limbo, of living in her room in his house while waiting for him to come back from meetings with her sister...this would not do.

Romance was fun in books, but in the real world, practically always won out for Nesta, and so it was abundantly clear to her that two options lay before her: either she would leave or she would stay. And those were her terms.

So all she had to do was work up the nerve to act on her decision.

After she figured out what it was, of course.

February 12 - 4 years after

When they get to the clinic, they are not immediately rushed into a room, which calms Nesta down. Cassian, on the other hand, only gets more anxious.

"Why aren't they letting us see the healer?" he demands in a whisper, low enough so Ollie, his head on Nesta's shoulder, cannot hear him.

"Trust me, if they think we can wait in line, we're all right."

"But he's coughing!"

"The others might have some graver issue. If they pull you ahead, your situation is dire." Indeed, there had been times when Nesta had brought Ollie in; the healer had taken one look at him and announced that she would need all her appointments cancelled.

"Sit down," she tells him, lowering herself and Ollie into a chair. She presses her lips to the top of his head as she strokes his lower back.

Cassian does, but it must be wildly uncomfortable; these tiny things with no wing-accommodation. She frowns. What will that be like for her children? To live here, where even in a community of different types of faeries, they are clearly other.

"You're really not worried?" he asks her.

"I'm concerned," she says. "But I'm not nervous. I know more or less what she's going to say. His lungs haven't gotten drastically weaker. You see him play and run around. It comes and goes for him. As long as we keep up with what the healer prescribes—which we do—we should be fine."

Cassian is quiet, clearly struggling for words.

"What is it?"

"Sometimes...things don't happen according to plan," he says finally.

She actually laughs a little. "Well, I know that."

His lips quirk at her slight laugh. "How did...how did you find out? That you were...pregnant?"

She leans back in her chair, giving Ollie more room to recline on her. Lying on his stomach sometimes helps with his cough. "I fainted, actually. And they—Miri, Zeyn—they brought me to the clinic and Amorette told me."

"She was your healer the whole time?"

"Yes. That's how we met."

"And you..." he hesitated. "She delivered them?"

"She did," she says.

Nesta often recalls that day with wonder. Her whole life she had felt—everything. Just so much, all the time. And how insignificantly nothing it all appeared, compared to that cacophony of emotion in those few hours.

"He was sick, then, too," Cassian says softly.

They have never truly discussed this before, but..."Yes. He was born...he was too small. And his lungs were...weak. Not quite underdeveloped, but weak. He wasn't...ready to breathe...yet."

Recollecting that time—collapsing in exhaustion and relief against the bed, and realizing only a few seconds later that something was horribly, horribly wrong—why weren't they giving her the baby? Why could she only hear two cries?—it always tightens Nesta's throat and blurs her vision. She can barely feel Cassian put his arm around her.

"We didn't know what was going to happen, at first," she whispers, half because of where they are, half because of what she's saying. "But he's...he's strong now. This is just...we're at the healer's. He'll be fi—" Nesta's voice catches on the last word and she can't finish it. She forces her mind to go blank. She can't imagine—can't let herself think—

"Hey," Cassian's voice cuts in. He squeezes her shoulder. "Stay with me."

You stay with me, she wants to say.

But she stays silent, choosing to focus on the feel of his arm. She doesn't trust her voice now, for anything.

---

April 15 - 1 year after

Midway through her second trimester, Nesta was more than ready to give birth. The extra weight she was carrying was officially past flattering, she couldn't see her feet unless she was lying down, and everywhere she went, people stopped her and asked her if she was excited.

The latter was the absolute worst, because she still had not decided whether or not she was going to keep the children.

But she had never been good at being put on the spot—her preferred method of dealing with unwanted advances had always been silently staring them down, and since she was trying to get along as an average Sugar Valley resident, when Zeyn asked her if she had gotten around to painting the nursery yet, and if she would like some help...

What else could she say?

So he was there that afternoon, holding two buckets of light blue paint.

"Are you sure there's any difference between these two?" he asked, squinting.

"Sky and powder? Yes." To be fair, she probably wouldn't have registered the difference so clearly had she not grown up with Feyre, ever-obsessed with chronicling the different colors around them.

"Are we doing...stripes?"

"No." Stripes? For babies? "Just those two will be powder," and she punctuates her words by pointing to the wall front and back walls, "and those two will be sky."

"Oh. Why?"

"It's supposed to be lightly stimulating." She had read that in a book Amorette had given her. She was skeptical, but the store she had gone to had given her a good deal on the paints.

"Right. Well. Let's start, then."

Zeyn could be irritating, but his endless, mindless chatter could be comforting, as well. That was how she felt today. And she did appreciate how he kept going to fetch her things—berry juice and an extra cushion to put on her chair. Nesta felt she had not done her part at all, but Zeyn didn't seem to mind.

"Any progress on names?"

"Nothing concrete."

"Ah, well," he said. "My mother says you have to meet a baby before you know for sure if the name is right."

Nesta didn't think she'd be able to "meet a baby"—surely they would just be...the same as the rest of the small children she saw at the clinic or around town. Babies, she felt, all looked the same, and even if they were older and had developed their own features, they weren't very diverse personality-wise.

Not that she didn't like children. She remembered a vague feeling of excitement being told that she was going to have a new baby sister—Feyre, she couldn't remember Elain's birth—and she had liked to play with her, when she was a young girl. But there had not been very many babies for her to interact with during her teenage and adult years.

This was ridiculous. She didn't need to dwell on this so much. She probably wasn't going to keep them, right? That was why it didn't matter that Cassian still had not written back. It wasn't...he didn't need to know, if neither of them wanted anything to do with this. Because he did not want children either, obviously. He was...busy.

"Maybe it'll look different when it dries," Zeyn said, interrupting her thoughts.

"What? Oh, yes...sky's a bit darker."

"Hmm," he said, frowning. "You know...I really don't see it."

Nesta shrugged.

Zeyn clapped his hands together. "Well, as fun as staring at paint dry is..." he grinned at her. "Want to go for dinner? Jamal's?"

And she was certain that Sugar Valley etiquette demanded humoring the person who spent the afternoon doing handiwork at your house, so she said, "Sure."

---

February 12 - 4 years after

It is just past noon when Nesta sees Zeyn again, at the shop, coffee and pastry in hand.

"Hey!" he says. "You're all right? Ollie's...?"

"Fine," she says, unable to stop her grin. "The healer gave us a tonic for him to take over the next few weeks. She said that he might need it now and again, but as long as he takes it when he does, she sees no reason to expect significant deterioration. He'll probably be on par with his siblings by the time he turns twelve." Nesta's heart sings as she repeats the healer's words.

Zeyn pulls her in a hug. "Let's tell Miri and Adil. They're in the back."

"Oh, I'm actually not staying long. I just came to let you know we're all right...and give you this," she adds, holding out the food. "Thank you so much. How were Avery and Nicky?"

"Fine," he says. "We had fun."

Nesta rolls her eyes. "Don't tell me."

"I wasn't going to," he teases. "It's a secret."

"You four and your secrets," she says, rolling her eyes again.

He shakes his head, eyes still laughing at her. "Are you taking him back to nursery?"

"No, we're going to let him rest. We think it also might be nice to spend some time with just him, the both of us. We're thinking—" Nesta stops herself. Zeyn does not need to know how she and Cassian plan to spend time with each child individually, he does not need to hear this. "He's just so tired," she finishes.

But the damage is done and the warmth slips out of Zeyn's face. He looks down at the order from Samir's. "Nesta," he says, soft, slow. "Are you really doing this with him?"

She freezes. "Zeyn. He's their father. He has a right to be included in this."

"I'm not talking about that...and I don't agree with you on that matter, either."

Nesta raises an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"He wasn't there, Nesta," Zeyn says, more desperate than anything else. "He just—you had to do it all without him."

"I can't believe you're starting this right now," she says, more to herself than to him. Louder, she says, "I will not discuss this. He's here now. He's a part of their lives now. He was with me today."

"He's here when it fits his schedule."

"There's nothing wrong with having a job," she defends—defends! As if she doesn't hate that he commands the Night Court armies!

"Yours and his are not comparable," he says. "Do you remember...what it was like? What it felt like?" Zeyn stops, takes a shaky breath, before continuing. "Because I remember seeing you. In pain. Burdened. All alone."

"That's enough," Nesta snaps, crossing her arms. "It's been months, Zeyn. He's a permanent fixture of their lives. You ought to get used to it."

"Oh, I'm used to that," he says, about as close to testy as Zeyn can get. "It's his being a permanent fixture of your life I can't get behind."

Nesta tenses. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nesta. Please."

She shifts her weight backwards. If he were anyone else...but he's not. He's Zeyn. Zeyn, who has always been there for her, to the very best of his ability, who left his house at dawn this morning to feed and dress her children.

So she takes a deep breath. "I need to be getting back, Zeyn," she says.

He slumps slightly, but she knows this isn't over. "Give my love to Ollie," he says.

"I will."

"Thanks for the food."

"Don't be silly...thank you. Really."

"Don't thank me."

"Well, I will if I see fit. Thank you."

It works—he gives a short laugh. But it doesn't meet his eyes.

She doesn't have space, though, in her head or heart for that right now. Not Zeyn; not that she doesn't have any room for him. But right now...right now she needs to go to Ollie.

---

thank you all for your patience with this chapter, and @thestarwhowishes for betaing<3 would love to hear what y’all think<3

---

Chapter Twenty

[purplesurveys]

1062

survey by chrissylee22dc

A

Achievements: I guess I’m being asked to list some of mine...some of the ones I’m proudest of, at least, are graduating university with honors, landing a job (liking it is a big bonus), and taking up leadership positions.

Age: I am 22, but never felt quite like it.

Are you planning something right now? Kind of. I’m eyeing a long road trip to Tanay with just myself and go to one of their coffee shops, but idk when I’ll be able to do that. My wallet and bank account are still beat from Christmas lol (and until now I’m still buying gifts for friends), so it might have to wait until sometime next month.

Arizona or Alaska: I think Arizona weather is already quite like ours here, so I might enjoy Alaska a bit (if not a lot) more. There’s generally a lot more factors I find interesting with Alaska, like their food.

B

Birthdate: April 21st.

Build: I’m quite thin and underweight, but I actually recently made plans to start working out - both to make an effort to be healthy with myself, and also to feel good post-breakup. I’m hoping to see some changes in my body and build in the coming months.

Babies, do you have any? None of those, not sure if that’s still the plan for me.

Blonde or Brunette: Brunette.

C

Childhood sweetheart: Erm, does Gab count? We technically weren’t kids anymore when we first got together. I wasn’t attracted to anyone as a kid and was more concerned with growing my Pokemon pogs collection.

Current mood: I’m hungry and can go for savory breakfast foods right now, like shakshuka or huevos rancheros. Also a little anxious because I really don’t want to think about work, but tasks continue to pile up for a certain client.

Children, are there more in your future? There aren’t even any to begin with.

Coke or Pepsi: Pepsi just because it reminds me of Punk and my chaotic wrestling fangirl years.

D

Dad's name: Edgardo, but no one calls him by that full name. He has two nicknames; one of which he hates and only family and friends use, and the other is the name he has permanently introduced himself as in his workplace.

Dating anyone: Not anymore.

Do you plan on having lots of money? Don’t most people?

Dogs or cats: Dogs.

E

Elementary School: I’m not sharing that.

Eye color: Dark brown/black.

Ever going to China? Probably not right now considering the present situation. I’d love to go to the rural cities and have a peek into their country life.

Early or Late: EARLY. Lateness is a big pet peeve, unless the excuse is super reasonable like Manila traffic or a car accident.

F

First Crush: The first person I felt remotely attractive to was Andi, from 6th grade. Then she moved to New Zealand and the crush quickly faded out.

Fears: For concrete things, I hate cockroaches and fair rides. For bigger concepts, I fear getting left behind, failing, and not getting approval, and the idea of never being satisfied or happy with who I am, what I’ve done, or where I’ve gone.

Future goals: Have a place of my own, be able to sustain myself, and keep myself alive.

Funny or Serious: I think everyone has to have both sides. I wouldn’t want to hang out long with people who can’t be sat down to just shoot the shit with conversations that go a little deeper. At the same time, I’d be quickly bored with someone who talks about existential or philosophical topics 24/7 and takes everything seriously.

G

Grandparent's names: On my dad’s side, Dolores and Federico; on my mom’s side, Agnes and Jun. My maternal grandpa is the third in multiple generations of Abelardos in the family, but his nickname is simply ‘Jun,’ because Philippines.

GPA: We don’t measure our grades with that, but we do have a GWA; I’m just not sure how that can be converted to GPA. Mine was in the 1.47 range, which was good enough for cum laude honors. I barely missed out on a magna cum laude honor (which required a 1.45 GWA), so that’s something I’ve always been pressed about and I know I could have clinched it if the pandemic didn’t cancel my final semester, which would’ve given me the chance to pull up my grades.

Going anywhere this weekend? I don’t think so. I want to spend the remaining 5 days of my break completely unproductively.

Giver or Taker: Giver. I like pleasing people.

H

High School: I attended one school from kindergarten to high school.

Hair color: Black.

Hate anyone for life? I don’t think so. I dislike some people, but I can’t tell if I’ll feel that way for the rest of my life.

Hairspray or Gel: When I’m going somewhere or attending something fancy, I use hair gel to hold my hair down.

I

In 8th grade, who was your best friend? Eighth grade is freshman year of high school, right? In that case, my best friend was Gabie.

Is ignorance bliss? Sometimes it is. I like no longer being updated about Gabie’s life. Back when I still tried to push my way in, I was miserable. I stopped doing so over the holidays and I just stopped reaching out, stopped trying to communicate, everything. I’ve been a lot happier that way.

Is there anything you wanna share? That’s kinda the goal with every survey I take.

Ice Cream or Cake: Right now, maybe ice cream. I’m very picky about cake, and I don’t like the spongy ones aka most cakes I know.

J

Jumped rope for fun: That’s exactly what I use jump ropes for. I don’t think I ever used it for fitness or working out except for maybe PE.

Junk around you right now? I mean, not really. I have my embroidery stuff in a pile beside me, but I don’t consider them junk.

Joining anything anytime soon? Not planning on it. I briefly considered joining a gym as a new thing to do for 2021, but in the end I figured working out at home would be enough. Angela recommended the latter as well, so that’s how I abandoned my gym plans quickly haha.

January or July: I guess July? January always feels just a teeny bit stranger than other months, considering it’s the beginning of a new year.

K

Killed anyone: ...This serious?

Keeping a secret? I keep different secrets from different people.

Kicking someone off your top friends today? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.

Kiwi or Apple: Apple, just because I’ve never had the chance to taste kiwi.

L

Lost anyone close to you: I’ve lived 22 years, of course I have. I’d be very surprised if someone has lived that long but has never experienced losing people, whether from a fallout, from death, etc. Just this year alone I lost a great-aunt on my maternal grandpa’s side, and a ton of relatives from my maternal grandma’s side.

Last kiss, when and who: Gabie, three months ago.

List 3 people that you'll love forever: I can only think of Angela. And of course, Gab.

Lover or Fighter: Fighter, I suppose. I can be relentless. Right now with my breakup has been the only time I allowed myself to take a step back and not forcibly take things under my control for once.

M

Middle School: We don’t follow the concept of middle school here. The levels in middle school fall under elementary school as well.

Marital Status: Single.

Mom's name: Abigail.

Music or TV: TV.

N

Northernmost state you've been to: Batanes, which is as northernmost as northernmost gets in the Philippines.

Nickname: A lot of family members call me Byn, but for the most part Robyn has always been my main nickname.

Name your future boy and girl: I have yet to make up my mind about this.

Naughty or Nice: Nice. I never particularly feel ~naughty, and since the breakup I especially haven’t felt the need to be sexual.

O

Opened a piece of mail that wasn't yours? Sometimes I’ll open the electricity or water bill addressed to my parents out of curiosity just to find out how much we consumed in the last month. But nothing more than that.

Occupation: I’m an associate at a PR agency.

Owe anyone money: Nope.

Outgoing or Shy: Shy at first but I can get outgoing once I’ve warmed up to a person/situation.

P

Place you most want to be? Right now? I’d love to be at a coffee shop or bar at a higher altitude, with a view of the city. I used to go to a lot of these before the pandemic hit, but now I’m thinking of doing it again.

Purposely destroyed someone’s life? No.

Planning a major trip? Not really. Most tourist spots require swab tests and I am not having anything go up my nose.

Pink or Black? Love both, but I like pink ever so slightly more.

Q

Quit a class: I’ve never dropped a class. I’ve wanted to, but there was so much paperwork to fill out to do so and I also didn’t want to be behind on my overall schedule.

Quickly...the first word to come to mind: Whistle, because the pink/black question reminded me of Blackpink.

Quitting your job soon? No lol I’m barely two months in.

Quiet or Loud: I can be both, but these days I’ve been quieter.

R

Riding in an airplane: I have no idea what this is asking.

Ride, tell me about yours: ^ Same.

Running for any political office in the future? No plans to.

Rain or Snow: I guess rain, since it’s the only one I’ve experienced.

S

Siblings names and ages: Nina is 20, my brother is 17.

Shoe size: I fit anywhere between a size 6 to 7.

Shave daily? It used to be daily, but I haven’t had the need to since the quarantine began.

Shower or Bath: Shower.

T

Turning 21 was (will be): It’s been a year since then.

Texas, ever been? No but I have relatives who live there, so it’s one of my choice states to visit and stay at if I ever plan to go to the US.

Think you'll live to be 100? I doubt it. I don’t have any relatives who lived until that age.

Tame or Wild: Idk, tame I guess?? I don’t know what this is asking.

U

Unique quality about you: I feel like this is a question best answered by other people who see and interact with me more than I do myself.

Underwear on? Yeah.

Under your bed lies: Large containers with all the magazines I collected from childhood that I can’t bring myself to throw out.

Under or Over: Idk, you have to be more specific.

V

Virgin? No.

Vacation time left? I have five days left, including today :( I plan to be the most unproductive or bum-y I’ve ever been, because I have no clue when I’ll have a break this long again.

Voting in the next Presidential election? Of course.

Volleyball or Swimming: I like swimming more, but I like watching volleyball.

W

Went white water rafting? I don’t think so, but I would give it a shot.

Wearing right now: A hoodie that’s around two sizes bigger for me.

Write a sentence about you: About anything? I’m a little upset with myself for having been a bit lousy with survey-taking during the holiday break. I planned on taking a lot to catch up on the ones I’ve missed out on, but so far I mostly take just one a day lol.

West Coast or East Coast: East.

X

X-Rays in the past month: 0.

X-Mas plans: Had a get-together with my mom’s side of the family on the 24th; we hosted our own Christmas party on the 25th; and we visited my dad’s side of the family on the 26th.

X, does it mark the spot? Idk.

X-Tina or Britney? Britney.

Y

You lost "it" when? I mean, I’ve had more than one moment where I freaked out...

Your favorite song:  I’m really in love with Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House. My favorite songs come and go, but this one has been a constant.

Your favorite place on Earth: Sagada.

Yes or No: Idk. I’m not enjoying these vague ass questions.

Z

Zodiac Sign: Taurus.

Zodiac Sign: Idk, I’m still a Taurus.

Zippos are neat, agree? I don’t have an opinion.

Zoo or Circus: Neither.

[taisiakat]

New Moon Reading for the Collective 04-11

Deck - Shadowscapes by Stephanie Pui-Mun Law & Barbara Moore

Current:

Knight of Pentacles

Ten of Pentacles

Two for one (I love jumpers but it does take extra time to make more sense of two cards for the specific focus)

It is time to start really understanding the wealth that surrounds you, invites you to partake, reach out for, and engage with. There are so many opportunities this upcoming month for you that it could be viewed as an overwhelming challenge for you to pick just one.

But you do not have to pick just one. In fact it's a smorgasbord of delights; take a nibble from a bit of this, a dash of that, a taste of here, and bit of now.

The only limitation you have is - your own limitations saying you can't, don't, won't or not worthy.

Remember, there is abundance inside of yourself as well. The most abundance starts with accepting oneself as perfectly imperfect. You are your most prized treasure. You are a miracle. You are a blessing. You have so much inside of you to offer. DO not shy away from the greatness that is you. And no - this isn't the rahrah pep talk that we hear daily from so many spiritualist out here; the Angel messages, the Universe = no, this is you FINALLY letting go of this layer of beliefs that you do not make a difference, that you're not special, that you have nothing worthy of offering the world, to change the world, even if it is one person at a time.

While the Knight of Pentacles rides out and starts to really reach out for those abundance offerings and accepts them, the 10 of Pentacles teaches us to be comfortable with that energy. To enjoy, relax, rest in the energy of abundance as it is all around us. And to give blessings, be grateful and nurturing - to share with others without the ego.

Remember this month - every blessing, the abundance that flows to you, take a moment and really feel the depth of the universe bringing you these amazing rewards.

With this new moon - Acknowledge with your heart, mind and spirit these upcoming blessings and rewards, by saying tonight

"I plant the seed and desire to openly accept the abundance that the Universe is bringing to me this month without out judgement, without reservations and without guild."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Action:

Nine of Wands

Vigilance, being prepared, the being smart with the decisions of how to invest, why to invest, where to invest. The abundance that this month will bring also brings to you the ability to start thinking of what do you need to prepare for, save away for the rainy day, be on guard about.

Enjoy - first and foremost, because you have worked hard, long, struggled to get this. It hasn't been easy, but it has been rich in knowledge, wisdom and skills. Now is to think about some of the more somber issues that we face as we grow older.

Simple things like - having enough in the bank for 6 months worth of bills.

Being able to by a plane ticket if needed to go fly home.

A second pair of glasses.

A special dinner or a gift to a friend who you haven't seen in over a year.

How about going on vacation! (Which so many of us sacrifice normally and then having to deal with - with Covid19 restrictions)

Sometimes these things seem like frivolous but they are not. While the Universe brings us opportunities and has our back, we still need to do the execution of actions to help make our lives more enjoyable.

We still need to pay our bills, the Universe isn't going to write that check. It will bring you the opportunities, but it is your action of accepting, taking it in and executing on it that makes the difference.

So look around you this month as the abundance opportunities come in, big and small, and see what you need to shore up, to fix, to correct and to save for that rainy day.

Even if it as simple as setting up a money jar on your altar.

With this new moon - Make sure you continue to plant your new seeds for the future.

"I plant the seed and desire to make sure I am focusing my abundance on the Now, as well as on the future, to make it easier on me to ride through challenges, take care of issues, and prepare for the unexpected.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reflection/Meditation

Three of cups

We tend to forget the little things, actions, activities from outside, from others, steps we have taken that add up over time that has gotten us to where we are now. We remember the big moments, those that really stood out and made an impact on how our lives went and tend to celebrate those without hesitation. But, those tiny pure energy actions we miss, don't recognize and more over don't celebrate.

However when you collect these up, they become the most powerful influence, force, flow of energy that has happened to us and has impacted us the most.

This new moon we need to stop and celebrate those moments, those tiny steps, the smiles, the hugs, the flowers given in love, laughter, joy because of a great meal. We need to recognize everyone who has ever stopped and given us a moment of their time to help us.

We need to share this bounty, this immense treasure trove of goodness and give to others in return that bountifulness.

So today, and for the remaining days of April, take many moments to make as many people a bit more happier, lessen their struggles, give them praise, help them with the tiny things to make their day more enjoyable, feel more love, be more in the present and now.

Surprise someone with a gift of flowers, a song, poem, card. Call up someone you haven't spoken to in ages and make peace. Create a sense of abundance of Daily activities that most see as chores, turn those into blessings.

Bake a cake, cook a meal, visit (with masks of course) someone who could use a little light in their life right now.

And most of all CELEBRATE everything. Revel in that abundance of being alive and living.

With this new moon - Celebrate - sing laugh and dance for tomorrow is not here, and yesterday has passed

"I plant the seed of Celebration to celebrate each and every thing that happens in my life and give gratitude to everyone who contributes to my life, even if it is just a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please feel free to ask any questions, share your thoughts, let me know how I can assist you.

@}}>`~~~~~~~~~~~

Experience, observe, be curious and enjoy!

The Last Chance Crone - helping you with your shit when other methods fail