#the only good thing about them is that i love it when fob shares clothes. specially p2 bc.. well. u know.

[daeluin]

"how did he get patrick in those pants"

listen man i know my guy p. stump he's the kind of white guy who unironically thinks watchmen is some deep political manifesto

[mauvecherie-writes]

Home This Christmas.

PAIRING: Dani [oc] x Michael B Jordan.

SUMMARY: Dani is weary that her fiancé won’t be home in time for Christmas but he makes sure that he’s there.

WARNING: 18+ fluff, sexual content, hormonal pregnant woman.

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

NOTE: micheal is not famous. this is not a request but a personal christmas present for my best friend @beautifullmelodyxx i love you so much!

“No, no, no. baby you promised me that you’d be on your way back and that you’d be in town by now!” Dani exclaimed as she slammed her fist against the steering wheel. Frustration quickly began to take over her body as she pondered on the words of her fiancé.

“I know babe and I’m really sorry but work has gone into overtime and I can’t stop it.”

“Michael Bakari Jordan, you are the CEO and owner of your company. You can delegate your power to your other admin and be on the first plane home.”

“Damn, not the full name.” He mumbled.

“I’m irritated Michael! You promised me that’d you’d be here tonight and I wouldn’t spend christmas eve alone and you’re about to break it.”

“It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose. The client is being a pain to sign the contract and it’s causing everyone especially me. But you know I’m doing my best to speed up the process and come home to you.”

Dani screamed through her closed mouth. Yes, she was throwing a tantrum but it was all within good reason. Michael had not been home for a week and she was missing him terribly. Her pregnancy also made it extremely hard for her to control her hormones thus making her more needy than usual. She wanted Michael by her side and he wasn’t here which effectively added to the bad mood she was already experiencing from having to deal with entitled customers all day.

“You know what, I don’t want to call me unless you’re telling me you’ve landed and you’re coming home. Bye.” Dani did not give him time to respond before she ended the call and tightened grip around the leather of the wheel as tears pinched behind her eyes. She groaned before taking a deep breath and trying to calm her nerves as she pulled into the road that led to her home.

The black iron gates opened to her command after she pressed the fob on her keys. She parked her car and then got out, grabbing her office bags with her. As she stood up straight, the small rounded bottom of her belly was more prominent. At sixteen weeks, it was getting harder to hide her pregnancy as her emotions and cravings would often threaten to tell her secret. Dani and Michael had planned on revealing the news to their family during the swapping of gifts at Christmas tomorrow. However with the news that Michael dropped on her, it was looking like that plan was going to be pushed to the back burner.

Dani opened the front door with a heavy sigh as her shoulders slumped and leaned against the closed door before taking off her shoes and placed them onto the shoe rack by the door. She stalked further into their spacious home and placed her bags onto the couch before continuing her journey into the kitchen. Dani opened cupboards, grabbing her favourite snacks before jogging up the stairs.

She was stuffing her face with chips when she entered the master bedroom with an absent mind.

“Surprise!” A voice broke through the silent air which startled Dani so much, she screamed and dropped everything that was in her arms. With a hand on her chest, she focused on Michael’s figure that was standing in the middle of the bedroom dressed in jeans and a Christmas sweater.

“Fucking hell Michael!” She yelled at him and she rubbed her forehead and closed her eyes as she tried to control the anger that was already festering within her. His muffled laughter rang in her ears as he approached closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. He held her tightly against his chest as he rocked from side to side. He placed kisses on her cheeks and the side of her forehead.

“Hi baby.” He greeted Dani, his voice soft and mellow but she was not having it.

“You’re not funny.” She pushed him away and headed towards the bathroom but she could hear his footsteps behind her. “Don’t follow me, I’m mad at you right now.”

She entered the bathroom and began to run the water in the tub. After she dropped some bath salts and bubble bath soap, Dani stripped out of her clothes and put her locs into her bun on top of her head. She lathered her face in a mask and then finally sunk into the hot water. A soft hum came out of her as the warmth engulfed her.

Her eyes were still closed as she caught onto the scent of her fiancé before hearing the dragging of a stool towards the tub. Dani turned her head to the side and opened her eyes and welcomed the softness of Michael’s eyes.

“When did you get here?” She softly asked.

“A little after lunch. I initially thought about coming to your office and surprising you there but this seemed like a better idea. But now I’m starting to regret it.”

“You should. I was about to cry in the car. I really missed you.” Dani pouted which caused him to smile, showing his dimple.

“I missed you too.” He leaned forward and placed a kiss on her lips. She softly moaned as she held onto his cheek as she deepened the kiss but for a moment before pulling away. “Tantrums and all.” She tried to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes and moved back into her relaxed position.

“Whatever. I’m a pregnant hormonal woman and you’re not doing a very good job of making sure that I’m not stressed.”

His hand was in the water as he caressed her leg.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” The look in his eyes was full of temptation. He was trying to seduce his way out of trouble and Dani felt every fibre of her being wanting to give in but she wanted to make him sweat a little.

“You can start by cooking me something nice and quick.”

“Anything else?”

“I want the fireplace lit with a little set up in front of it.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“If you do all of that, I might forgive you.”

Michael chuckled before capturing her lips once again.

“I‘ll do what I can.” Dani bit onto her lip as he watched him walk away. Her eyes narrowed on his ass and she moaned getting flashbacks of the day before he left for his trip. She remembered digging her manicured nails into the firm, muscled flesh of his ass. Now, her arousal began to rise which caused her to groan softly and close her eyes as the thoughts filled her mind.

She did not stay in the tub for more time than needed and took a quick shower before leaving the bathroom. Dani moisturised her skin and then got dressed in an old large shirt of Michael’s and a pair of red thongs and some warm, fluffy christmas socks. She neatly wrapped her hair and applied her night creams.

When she got downstairs, the scent of the food became stronger. Michael was standing by the counter as he dished the food. He made a quick meal of creamy ham and mushroom linguine with a side of wild green salad.

Dani’s mouth watered at the sight.

“This looks so good baby.” She commented as she sat at a stool by the counter. Michael pushed a plate towards her and poured her a cup of strawberry lemonade.

“Thank you.” He replied with another shared kiss before the couple indulged in their food. They shared stories of their work days — Dani’s being far more interesting as her career as an event planner led her to cross paths with peculiar people.

As it was Christmas, her and her team were organising annual Christmas parties for companies. Dani and her assistant were planning a party for a successful local law firm and they were having a problem with the firm’s representative and it took all of Dani’s customer service training to not blow off her top and refuse to work with her. However Dani’s company had an incredibly clean record with an impeccable reputation. Nothing, especially snotty, little entitled fund babies.

Michael laughed at all of her retelling and watched her with an awestruck look in his eyes. Together for four years and nothing about the way that he felt about her had changed, only intensified. Eating dinner with her before moving to the fireplace as the Grinch played lowly in the background made him appreciate the little things. These were moments that he never wanted to miss and he promised to himself that he never will.

He was leaning against the couch with Dani in between his legs. His hands were around her torso, hands on her belly as he listened to her ramblings about past christmases. As much as he was trying to listen to what she was saying, he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her womb. His seed was growing in there. Their baby was within her and she was bringing life into their world and extending their family.

How could he not be in love with her? Dani trusted him so much that she was willing to give birth and be with him in matrimony. Michael had never experienced a love like this and he was never going to give it up.

“Are you even listening to me?” Dani asked as she shifted her head slightly to look at him.

“No.” She rolled her eyes. “I was thinking about how in love I am with you.”

“Awe baby.” She cooed as she turned in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you so much.” Multiple kisses were placed on his jawline, tickling his skin causing him to laugh before turning his head and capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. Her hands went to tug onto his small afro as the kiss intensified. He laid her down onto the blanket that was beneath them and made sure that he wasn’t applying too much pressure onto her lower abdomen.

His hands were on either side of her head as her legs shifted to being around his waist. He brought his weight down and pressed himself against her flimsily covered core. Dani whimpered into his mouth as her hands moved down his torso and pulled on his sweater. He stood on his knees and pulled it off his body before hovering above her and attaching his lips to her once more.

Her hips bucked upwards so as to build on the friction but Michael held her down by her arms before trailing his lips down her neck, the soft prickles of his beard rubbing against her skin caused her buried arousal to begin to arise once more. As he worked his way down her body, he pushed the shirt further up her body and took one of her nippled into his mouth.

“Fuck.” Dani gasped as she felt his tongue flick her sensitive nipple before sucking on it. Her pregnancy made everything much more sensitive which intensified every little thing. As she took off her shirt and dropped it onto the floor as Michael pushed her thighs apart and chuckled at the festive colour of her damp thongs.

“Did you put these on for me?” He mumbled against her thigh and bit into it as he pulled them down her legs before settling close to her pussy once again.

“I thought that they matched the festive spirit.” Dani replied, giggling as she felt his breath brush against her drenched core. She bit onto her lip as she leaned up onto her elbows and looked down at her fiance. The yellow lights of the Christmas tree illuminated onto his face before he used his tongue to lick clean her weeping nectar.

That’s when he lost himself in between her thighs. Using his skilful tongue, he would lick around her clit, flick it repeatedly before trailing down to her entrance and pushing his tongue in. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he paid more attention to her clit and began fucking her with his fingers which caused her moan to turn into screams.

She pulled on the blanket s beneath her as her orgasm began to rise.

“Oh baby, I’m going to cum.” Dani gasped as her thighs began to quake. Her orgasm gripped her body as she arched off the floor. He thrusted his fingers faster and faster into her, prolonging her climax for as long as her could before she finally pushed him away.

“Can’t take it baby?” He licked his lips as he took his trousers off and laid down on the floor and pulled her on top of him. Dani positioned herself properly and went in between her leg and wrapped her hands around his cock and stroked him softly. She watched as his chest raised up and down as he throbbed in her hand.

“You get too overzealous, my pussy is too tender for that.” She replied as she raised up and

began to sink down onto his thickness. Dani let out a sweet moan as he stretched her walls. She leaned forward and placed her hands onto his chest as she took deep breaths as Michael pushed deeper into her. He watched as she bit on her lip and her eyes fluttered close as she took all of him.

He groaned as he gripped onto her thighs as she snuggly fit around him. “But you’re not complaining when I’m deep inside of you.”

“Daddy.” Dani gasped as he lifted her hips and brought her back down onto him. The best thing was watching the faces she made as she used him for her pleasure. With every roll of her hips and each breathy moan that left her parted lips, Michael could feel the tug at the bottom of his stomach. When she was so consumed within the throes, Dani never called him by his given name, just Daddy. He loved hearing her call him.

His hand travelled to her breast and pulled on her nipple as he moved his hips to her pace.

“Fuck!” She groaned as she rolled her hips faster and faster, tightening her core around his cock causing him to growl beneath her. Dani opened her eyes and leaned down and took his bottom lip into her mouth as she began to bounce on him.

“You feeling good baby?” He mumbled against her lips as she looked into his eyes as his arms wrapped around her and he planted his feet onto the floor and thrusted harder into her causing her moans to turn into the screams. Her head was slightly above his as she pulled on the blankets. Their bodies moved in sync with each other as they chased their climax. Michael sat up and held onto the back of her neck as he branded her lips with his.

Embracing each other tightly, Dani continued moving her hips as their tongues passionately entangled as their moans blended together.

“Fuck baby, I’m going to cum.” He whispered against her lips.

“Cum in me Daddy, fill me up. Please, please, please.” Dani moaned as her walls clenched around him, eliciting a deep moan as Michael squeezed onto her ass as he held onto her body as he buried his seed deep inside of her. Dani whimpered as she let go of her inhibitions and trembled in his arms.

They held each other as they focused on calming themselves down. Michael laid back down with her still on top of him. Her eyes were closed as she listened to his beating heart. When her eyes opened, she caught sight of the erected Christmas tree.

“Oh god.” Dani groaned with a scoff. “We fucked in front of the Christmas tree like some cliche hallmark movie.”

“It’d be r rated just from your moans alone.” Michael replied as he ran his fingers up and down her back. Dani laughed as she playfully slapped his chest.

“Shut up.” She mumbled before cuddling into his body and closing her eyes as she felt her body relax. Christmas was looking up already...

[starmieknight]

Trust: Priceless

Summary: Jeongguk's new owner decides to take him out shopping and he comes closer to changing his opinion of her.

Contents: Hybrid!BTS, Jeongguk is a bit of a brat (he has his reasons), Mavis is out of her element, RabbitHybrid!Jeongguk(?)

Mavis poked her head into the living room and peered silently at Jeongguk.

 The hybrid continued watching the TV like he didn’t notice her presence, only the twitching of his long ear betraying him. Mavis still hesitated, her face an unreadable mask as she observed the situation.

 Jeongguk looked bored out of his mind, no doubt tired of only having television to watch after three days in her new home. As a kid, Mavis had gotten a thrill from being able to watch cable when she visited her aunt instead of just satellite TV, but she had been an easily entertained child and not as energetic as Jeongguk seemed.

 When she asked, her hotel manager, Dobbs, had told her that Jeongguk had yet to use any of the hotel facilities Mavis had told him he was free to at any time, no questions asked. Mavis personally wanted to use the indoor pool, but hadn’t found the time or energy to head down there. But even if he wasn’t interested in the pool, there were basketball and tennis courts, bike trails, a hedge maze and an entire arcade in the hotel for Jeongguk to use.

 As far as Mavis could tell, the only thing holding Jeongguk back from finding something to entertain himself was the fact that other than himself, there weren’t many hybrids to be found in the Mountainview Hotel. And even then, not many of the guests brought their hybrids along with them when they vacationed or took their business trips. If Mavis was being honest and allowed her professionalism to lapse some, the hybrids brought along by the higher class guests were rather… bratty. In the way that some spoiled children seemed.

 She was sure that they weren’t all bad, but the way your actions are perceived by family and friends often differs from the way you’re seen by strangers.

 Even Jeongguk probably seemed bratty to everyone else.

 Mavis had to admit, the way he was grouching reminded her of a preteen determined to not have fun on a family trip and trying to make everyone else as miserable as he was.

 But she couldn’t fault him for it. She’d be angry too if her whole life was flipped upside down and she was told she now had to live with a stranger and abide by their rules if they wanted to live. For Jeongguk, her ownership could be considered the equivalent of prison while she only felt like she had custody of a child that would need a lifetime of her care.

 But even so, life went on and he had to interact with her some time.

 And going grocery shopping and clothes shopping was the first way they were going to have to do it.

 “Jeongguk,” Mavis called finally, making the hybrid freeze as he waited for her to speak. His eyes remained on the TV even as his ears tilted towards her. “We need to go out. I want to stock up the kitchen and we’ll need to fluff up your wardrobe. I’m sure it’s got to be tiring recycling the same plain clothes every day.”

 “White T-shirts are my style.” Jeongguk said flatly. Mavis could only see a fraction of his face from that angle, but she could easily make out the scowl that marred his features.

 Internally she winced. Outwardly, she only raised an eyebrow.

 “Then I’ll buy you however many you like. But that doesn’t change the fact that the constant wearing and washing is going to wear them down to rags before long.” She walked in between him and the TV, forcing him to look at her. She offered a quirk of her lips in lieu of a smile. “Besides, we can try somewhere new to eat while we’re out. You can pick the place.”

 Jeongguk looked put out with her presence, but seemed interested in the idea of food. "Fine."

 Mavis smiled encouragingly and offered him a jacket, thankful that she had preferred to buy jackets from the men's section when she still lived in the city. They always seemed thicker, even if they didn't always match the rest of her outfits' styles, and Mavis loved to wear her clothes with sleeves a size or three bigger. They were comfortable and offered her a bigger sense of protection somehow.

 Besides, she thought the whole sweater paws concept was very cute.

 Jeongguk scowled but accepted the jacket. His hybrid side wasn't exactly built for cold weather, even if he was in denial even to himself about the truth of his species. He loathed to wear anything that carried Mavis' scent. The cabin was barely bearable,  only the fact that she had just moved in and spent little time there since putting him at ease. Jeongguk had secretly been going around the cabin and scenting what he could, keeping in mind the fact that Mavis informed him that there would be more hybrids coming at some point. He wanted all of them to know that he was the original, even if he didn't care for their owner.

 Jeongguk stayed silent for their short trip to the garage, making Mavis feel a bit nervous. She always hated having people walk behind her where she couldn't see them. It made her self conscious and messed with her sense of security. Typically, she would have slowed down her pace to match his, but thought it would be a bad idea to force Jeongguk to be too close to her. Plus, he didn't know where the garage was and she did.

 And again, going into the garage made Mavis' brain short circuit for a moment at the extravagance of it. Had her grandfather really needed so many vehicles?

 Jeongguk let out a long, low whistle at the sight. His expression finally changed from indifference to awe.

 He knew his new owner was loaded, but this was a rich chick for sure. 

 Mavis hid her smile at the look of awe on his face and considered her options.

 She wanted to take her own car. She was familiar with it and loved it, having bought it all on her own. It wasn't anything new or flashy, but there was pride in driving something you worked hard for. But she knew it wasn't going to be large enough to hold everything they were out to buy today.

 Mavis eyed the collection of SUVs, immediately disregarding the ones meant for show or mud riding and decided that the plain, white one with a hatchback was her best choice. Surely they could lay the seats down for more room.

 "Do you have a driver's license, Jeongguk?" she asked, noticing his fascination with a bright blue sports car she was too afraid to even think of driving.

 "I'm a hybrid."

 Mavis shrugged. "That doesn't mean you can't have a driver's license. Independent Hybrids are capable of obtaining them and Owned Hybrids are as well, though I'm sure there's quite a bit of paperwork to go through. We can get you one, if you like, and I'll add you to my insurance so you can drive any car in here that you like."

 Jeongguk stared at her like Mavis had been speaking a dead language instead of offering him more independence. He frowned, unsure of her motives. Did she want him to run off and disappear so she'd have a reason to give him up and not feel guilty over his death. "I'd rather not." 

 Mavis sighed, but allowed the matter to drop. Instead, she moved over to the peg board where all the keys were stored to get the keys to the SUV. If she liked the car well enough for grocery shopping, she might even add its key to her key chain.

 She was a bit surprised when Jeongguk tried to climb into the backseat instead of the passenger side and forgot herself for a moment when she reached into the backseat to stop him. They both looked at her outstretched hand incredulously.

“We’ll need the space for our groceries.” she said quietly, clearing her throat in an attempt to also clear out the awkwardness of the moment. She felt a bit guilty at the close call, having promised herself that any contact the two of them shared would be on Jeongguk’s terms. She never wanted to pressure him, even if it meant they never got more than a foot closer to each other.

 “You… want me to ride in the front seat? With you?” Jeongguk sounded unsure for once. He eyed her hand like a rabbit facing a snake, making Mavis realize that she’d never dropped it.

 She stepped back, avoiding his eyes. Instead, she looked for the button that would lay the backseat down. “Of course.”

 Jeongguk looked like he wanted to argue, but merely followed Mavis’ lead and pushed the button on his side, the two of them working together to transform the backseat into a better storage area.

 When they were done, he climbed into the passenger’s seat silently, buckling up and fixing his eyes on the window.

 The SUV was really too much for her to handle at first, especially the fact that her key… wasn’t really a key and more of a fob.

 It took her a moment to actually get the car started, not used to having to press a button instead of turning a key. Jeongguk even turned his head from the window to look at her judgmentally.

 “Doesn’t your chauffeur usually pick you up?” he asked, unable to help himself from asking. He wondered if she was trying to show off for him by taking him out herself. It wasn’t working.

 Mavis’ brow furrowed as she tried to figure out the car’s features, carefully trying to get the Bluetooth to work before she tried to drive. She wasn’t familiar with the good radio stations in the area yet and couldn’t stand driving in silence, let alone the awkward one that always came with Jeongguk’s presence. “I’m sure that Cooper would have one waiting if I asked, but I’ve never used a chauffeur before.”

 Jeongguk stared. “I thought rich people never drove anywhere themselves.”

 Mavis snorted and shrugged. “I dunno about that. I’m new to all this, myself. I didn’t really see my grandfather all that often after my great-grandparents passed - there was never a reason to - so my lifestyle was much more humble than all this.” she frowned. “It’s rather unsettling if I’m being honest.”

 Jeongguk wanted to ask why she had little reason to see her family. Did someone need a reason to go see the people they were supposed to spend their lives surrounded by? But it wasn’t his business and he didn’t want to know about her personal life. Really.

 Even if the question as to why she was unaccustomed to this life was a burning one. She seemed like she had a handle on things and carried herself like a strong and smart business woman with a flourishing hotel and lavish life behind her. He didn’t wonder what she was like before, what she might have been if she didn’t suddenly drop into his life as his newest owner.

 Jeongguk turned back to the window and swallowed his questions.

 After getting her phone connected to the SUV’s Bluetooth (which took more brainpower than she was willing to admit), Mavis opened her Spotify and handed her phone over to Jeongguk.

 “You can play whatever you like.” she told him as she pressed the button on her keyring to open the garage door. “I may need to pull up the GPS to find the grocery store after we get into the city. Though, I think I can use the car’s map system instead of my phone…” Mavis frowned thoughtfully at the display before pulling out of the garage. She paused briefly to shut the door again before heading down the driveway and towards the exit to the hotel grounds.

 She couldn’t help but slow down to give the sprawling building a worried look as she passed, much like a new mother leaving her newborn with someone else for the first time.

 The hotel wasn’t on fire and would still be intact when she got back. They’d managed without her there before and they could do it again.

 … now if only she could convince herself of that.

 Mavis waved at the security guard as he let them out, and Jeongguk finally settled on a song as they left the gates.

 A low, bass beat began thrumming through the SUV and its passengers were silent, only the voice of the track’s vocalist filling the space between them.

 Fortunately for Mavis, the car system’s GPS pulled up easily enough and getting on the highway to the city was simple enough. If they were only going for grocery shopping, Mavis would have headed in the opposite direction for the little town that was a bit closer. She had passed through it the first time she’d made the trip up the mountain to the hotel and found it to be very similar to her own hometown, if a bit newer.

 But today she had lots of things in mind to get for the cabin - for both her and Jeongguk - and so they would be getting their groceries from a large chain grocery store instead.

 When the music came to a sudden stop, Mavis and Jeongguk both looked at the Bluetooth display in bewilderment. Jeongguk checked Mavis’ phone and frowned at the name. It seemed strangely familiar to him.

 “It’s Cooper calling.” he told Mavis flatly, trying to hand the phone over.

 She waved him off, not confident in driving and holding the phone at the same time, and accepted the call through the SUV’s Bluetooth.

 There was a beat of silence after the phone connected.

 “Hello? Ms. Attmore?” Cooper’s slightly staticky voice filled the cab. He sounded nervous.

 Mavis hid her amused grin even though Cooper couldn’t see her. It was still funny to her that she was intimidating now. Especially after leaving a job where the people in her care screamed and swatted at her all day long (she missed her toddler class dearly).

 The power was a little intoxicating.

 “Good morning, Cooper.” Mavis said, sliding into her Boss Lady voice. Even her driving smoothed out, her shoulders straightening and her confidence growing.

 Jeongguk did a double take, having grown used to a reserved and almost timid Mavis. This person in the car with him now was the same Ms. Attmore he had met the first day she arrived at the Mountain View.

 His ears perked up and his nostrils flared, becoming more attentive of her instinctively. He was curious about this side of her personality.

 “Good morning, Ma’am!” Cooper said more brightly. “I was just calling to check in with you. Has the cabin been to your liking? I know it’s been a few days and I was wondering when you’d like me to send the housekeeping service out?”

 Mavis tapped her fingers against the steering wheel thoughtfully. “I suppose today would be fine. I’m taking Jeongguk out to pick out some clothes and things for his room.” She glanced over at the Hybrid in question. “Would you like them to straighten your room up a bit, or would that be too uncomfortable?” Mavis lowered her voice a bit to keep it off the call.

 Jeongguk hesitated, not used to having so much agency over his own space.

 After spending so long in the underground fighting rings, having privacy and personal belongings of his own was a foreign concept. He knew to leave Mavis’ belongings alone, but had just expected her to do as she pleased with the things she had given to him.

 “I can clean my own room.” Jeongguk said slowly, watching for any adverse reaction.

 Mavis just nodded and raised her voice to address Cooper again. “Have them skip Jeongguk’s room for now. And can you ask them to skip the floral scented stuff? It gives me a headache…”

 “Would a citrus scent be more preferable, Ma’am?” Cooper asked anxiously.

 “That’s fine. But no coconut or pineapple or mango, please. They make me feel ill.”

 “I’ll tell the housekeeper to use an orange or lemon scent from now on, Ma’am.” Cooper promised. Mavis could almost see him in her mind’s eye, scribbling furiously in his planner to keep her preferences marked down for future reference.

 “Thank you.” Mavis allowed a small smile to cross her face before it was replaced with a thoughtful frown. “One more thing, Cooper - would you mind adding another smartphone to my plan?”

 “Of course, Ma’am!” Cooper said eagerly. “Do you have any preferences for color or brand?”

 Mavis shrugged. “It’s for Jeongguk. I’ll have to let you ask him.” She nodded at Jeongguk, wordlessly telling him to go ahead and give Cooper the word.

 The Hybrid froze, looking at Mavis like a frightened rabbit.

 She offered him a more sincere smile, trying to be as encouraging as she could. “It’s okay.” she whispered. “If you don’t know what you like best yet, you can get a phone like mine in whatever color you want.”

 “... the same phone as Ms. Attmore.” Jeongguk said hesitantly, voice just barely loud enough for the phone to pick it up. “In purple?”

 “You catch that, Cooper?” Mavis asked, wanting to make sure Jeongguk got exactly what he wanted.

 “Should that be a light purple or a dark?” the assistant clarified.

 “Either is fine.” Jeonggiuk said, a bit more confidently this time.

 “I’ll have it waiting for you when you return home!” Cooper said brightly, happy to finally have something to do for Mavis. “Is there anything else I can help with?”

 “I think that covers it for now, Cooper.” Mavis reassured him. “I may need your help arranging deliveries for our bigger items when we get to the store.”

 “I’ll be waiting for your call!”

 “Thank you,” Mavis reached over to end the call. “Have a good day.”

 Jeongguk continued to watch her, no longer trying to ignore her, even after the music resumed on their way to the city.

 She was tolerable for the moment, maybe even agreeable after a long period of time, but he would still keep an eye out for any signs that it was all an act.

 After all, a hybrid still couldn’t trust a human.

_________________

CHECK OUT MY COMMISSIONS INFO HERE (WRITING COMMISSIONS AVAILABLE)

[thetravelerwrites]

Hearthway Hollow: Shahan

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human Reader/Male Werewolf Additional Tags: Exophilia, Hearthway Hollow, Werewolf Boyfriend, Interspecies Romance Content Warnings: Stalker, Stalking, Guns, Shooting Guns, Anxiety Words: 7007

This is a belated birthday gift for @momolady​! While fleeing a man who has made her life hell for years and looking for an out of the way place to hide, the reader stumbles upon a town that isn’t on any map: Hearthway Hollow. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

Visit Hearthway Hollow!

Erring on the side of caution had never done much good for you. Erring on the side of paranoid worked much better.

You researched on your phone about out-of-the-way towns that would be good to settle in if you wanted peace and quiet, and cross referenced them with maps, and you found one town that didn’t appear on any map at all: Hearthway Hollow.

The town had a strange reputation, but you believed most of what you read online as much as you believed in Santa Claus. It was supposed to be a front for some kind of cult, though honestly, you’d sell your soul at this point if it meant safety and stability.

Driving through it, you had to admit the town was beautiful, like something on a postcard. The buildings were nice in an old fashioned, small-town kind of way, most of them red brick. The people you saw walking the sidewalks and in the shops looked weirdly happy and contented. All of them. It was… odd, like a Stepford Wives kind of thing. Maybe this was a cult town.

Eh, who were you to judge people’s lifestyle?

This was the third time you’d changed towns in the last six months, and you hoped you’d be in this town long enough to earn a savings that would cover your next terrified midnight flight. You’d been sleeping in your van to save funds for about a week, moving constantly, having only enough money in your pocket to pay for a few months rent, at most.

After driving for a while, you didn’t see any sort of town hall or city center, so you stopped at the hardware store, which to your eye appeared to be the heartbeat of the town, and went inside. There was a tiny young woman with dark hair and thick eyebrows sitting on a stool at the counter, flipping through a magazine.

“Hey there!” She said as you enter. “Haven’t seen you before.”

“Yeah,” You said, your hoodie up and your hands in your pockets. “I’m looking to rent a place and I’m not sure who I should talk to about that. I didn’t see any kind of notice board or realtor signs, so…”

“Oh, well, you’ve come to the right place, then,” The woman said with a laugh. “You’ll be wanting to talk to my dad, Big Billy MacAllister. He owns more than half the town.”

You gave a small, tired shrug. “Okay, great, how do I get in touch with him?”

“Just a sec,” She said, jumping off her stool and going to a door behind the counter that said “Employees Only.”

“Hey, Dad! Someone here for you!”

“Coming!” You heard a gruff voice bark back.

“He’ll be right with you,” The young woman said brightly, getting back up on her perch.

The door opened, and a mountain of a man walked out, all muscles, beer gut, and body hair. You took a dubious step back as he circled the counter, wiping his hands.

“What can I do for you?” He grumbled.

“I’m told you’re the person to see to rent a place in town?” You said.

“Yep,” He replied. “What are you looking for?”

“Something small and cheap. Like, studio apartment,” I said. “In town, not in the woods. Somewhere where there’s a lot of light, surrounded on all sides by buildings, preferably buildings that have security cameras positioned toward the streets. And I need to move in quickly.”

His head rocked back at the laundry list of demands you’d just rattled off. “Uh… sure, the apartment above the hardware store is actually empty right now, so if you’d like that, you’re welcome to it.”

“What kind of locks does it have?” You asked.

“I’m sorry, what?” He responded, his thick brow furrowing.

“What kind of locks does it have?” You repeated with more emphasis. “And how long are the screws in the door hinges?”

“Uh… It has a standard doorknob lock and deadbolt,” He said, sounding a little confused. “And the hinge screws are… I dunno, four inch.”

“Not good enough,” You replied. “The screws need to be at least nine inches, and there needs to be a sliding lock in addition to the standard locks. I’ll buy them out of pocket and install them myself, if you don’t want to do it.”

The guy called Big Billy laughed a little, this sides of his mouth turning up under all that facial hair. “You expectin’ an attack or something?”

You didn’t laugh. Or smile. You just stared at him. “I also need to know who’s hiring in town, if you’d happen to know about that.”

“The grocery store is always hiring,” The young woman said, watching the interaction between you and her father with intense interest.

“Great, thanks,” You told her, then turned back to her dad. “When can I move in? Do you need me to give you a deposit or fill out an application?”

“Nah, I’m not worried about that,” He replied. “I just need your name and social for insurance purposes.”

You told him, and his daughter jotted it down.

“I’ve got some stuff stored up there, so give me a day to clean it out and it’ll be good to go,” He said. “Will that do?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” You replied. “Last question: does this town have a shooting range?”

The father and daughter shared a surprised look.

“Yeah, the police station has one that’s open to the public, but you have to make an appointment. You can’t just walk in and start shooting.”

“Cool,” You replied. “I’ll come back tomorrow for the keys, then.”

“Sure,” He said, still staring at you as if you were a puzzle to be solved. Before he could ask a question you didn’t want to answer, you turned and walked out of the shop, deciding to go and apply at the grocery store next.

You’d never seen a grocery store that didn’t sell meat, but they told you the butcher had the monopoly on that. You submitted your application and, when they asked your address and you told them it was the hardware store, they had a funny look on their face, but they accepted it without remark. They said they’d call you in a few days.

That night, you drove out of town and stopped at a rest area that was brightly lit and on a main highway. It had vending machines, water fountains, and showers. You refilled all of your empty water containers, had a quick wash in the showers, bought a dinner of coke and honey buns, then locked yourself into your van. Your futon mattress was laid out in the back, next to which was a locked travel trunk with all of your worldly possessions in it. Underneath your pillow was a loaded .22 and a twelve inch buck knife.

You removed your hoodie and took the can of mace, taser, and pocket knife out of your pants and lay them next to you on the mattress, so they were in easy reach. You lay down on your bed, fully clothed, and clicked a button on the key fob to set the car alarm. Sleep was slow in coming.

The next day, you went back to the hardware store and met up with Big Billy.

“Ah, I’m glad you came in early. I decided to upgrade you,” He told you.

“You made the changes to the door?” You asked.

“Nope,” He said. “There’s another property of mine I think you’ll like. It’s small and comfortable, and surrounded by a high fence. Here’s the keys.” He handed you a keyring with two keys on it.

You frowned a little. The store’s upstairs apartment was more defensible. “If I don’t like it, can I still have the apartment upstairs?”

“Sure,” Billy said, shrugging. “But I have a feeling you’ll love it.”

Your frown deepened with doubt, but you thanked him.

“It’s on Plymouth Road. Red house with a white door. Number 6557.”

“Got it,” You said. “And the doors?”

“I fixed ‘em up, like you asked,” He replied.

“Good. Thanks.”

You exited the store and headed over to Plymouth Road.

When you arrived at the house, you noticed immediately that there was a high privacy fence that went from the garage around the back of the house. Beyond that, there were trees. You grimaced. You’d specifically told him you didn’t want to be close to the woods.

But then, you realize who your neighbors were, and couldn’t help but smile. On the left was a normal house with a picket fence, and on the right, just next door, was the police station.

Maybe this would work out after all.

Moving your belongings into the house took all of fifteen minutes, and when you were finished, you walked next door to the station. At the desk was a young man in a uniform, perhaps in his mid-to-late twenties, tall, slender, and fit, with dark skin and black hair. He was writing something on a notepad but looked up when you walked in. He had the most peculiar but pretty gold-green eyes. His badge said “Madhwari.”

He paused for a moment when he saw you, his mouth open and the pupils of his eyes dilating slightly. You assumed you looked pretty shady with your hoodie up and your hunched posture, but he smiled after a few seconds, cleared his throat, and said, “Hello there. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

“Hi. I was told you guys have a shooting range, but that I’d need to make an appointment.”

“That’s right,” He replied. “I’ll need to see your gun license.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a form. “Fill this out, please.”

You took out your wallet and pulled your license from it and handed it to him. He handed you a pen in return. As much as you disliked leaving a paper trail, you filled out the form.

“Ah, you’re the new girl next door, eh?” The officer said. “Billy told us about you.”

You frowned in annoyance. That Big Billy had a big mouth.

“When can I use the shooting range?” You asked.

“Well,” the officer said, handing back your license. “We’re slow at the moment, so if you’d like, you can use it now. Do you have your gun with you?”

“No, it’s at home.”

“Well, go get it and I’ll let you in.”

“Thanks, Officer Madhwari,” You said as you headed for the door.

“Eh, we’re not a last name kind of town. Call me Shahan,” He said, a wide smile on his face. You gave him back a ghost of a smile and left to retrieve your firearm.

Upon returning, another officer was at the desk, a freckle-faced guy with a scar and eyepatch who otherwise looked like he was an over-tall twelve year old playing at being cop.

“You’re the girl Shahan’s waiting for?” He asked. You nodded. “I’m Saul. Welcome to town.”

“Thanks,” you said, taking his proffered hand and shaking it. Jeez, was everyone in town this friendly? It was unnerving.

“He’s already in the range,” Saul said, pointing at the door to the far right. “Go straight through.”

“Cool,” You replied, and made your way to the door.

Shahan already had the goggles on and earmuffs around his neck with a second pair on a table waiting for you.

“Are you practicing, too?” You asked.

He shook his head. “Sorry, it’s policy for an officer to supervise when a civilian is in the range. That’s one of the reasons you need to make an appointment.”

“Gotcha,” You said.

“What are you shooting?” He asked, looking at your gun. “That’s a cute .22.”

“What do you shoot?” You asked him.

He pulled his sidearm from its holster and showed it to you. “Standard issue,” He said. It was a 9mm Glock 19. Nice. If you could afford one, you’d definitely have bought it instead of your Ruger SR. As functional as it was, you’d definitely have liked something with more accuracy and a bigger punch.

“Can I shoot it?” You asked him.

He winced and shook his head. “Sorry. I’d lose my job.”

“I get it,” You said. “No harm in asking, though.”

“I’ve got you a target set up,” He said, pointing down the range at a paper figure. “What distance you want?”

“Gimme… twenty feet?” You said.

“Ooh, advanced, I like it,” He said, pressing a button that sent the target farther down the range. You didn’t have much ammunition, but it was important to keep your skills sharp. You could buy more when you started work.

“Protection on before you draw your weapon, please,” He said, and you donned the goggles and earmuffs. Once you were ready, he stepped back to your right, so that you could see him but so he wasn’t in the way, and gave you the signal to shoot when ready.

You shot ten rounds, a few seconds apart, at the target at the end of the range, and then three rapid-fire. You put your weapon down on the shelf and took off the earmuffs. Shahan pulled the target in so you could inspect it. All headshots.

“Damn!” He said with admiration. “You’re a better shot than me! You should join the police!”

You snorted. “Pass, but thanks for the offer.”

“Want to go again?” He asked.

“No,” You said. “That’s enough.”

“Really?” He said, sounding kind of disappointed. “That’s it?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure I’m still sharp,” You told him. “Thanks, Shahan.”

“My pleasure,” He replied, holding out a hand to shake it. “Let me know next time you’re wanting to shoot.”

“I will,” You said, then headed home, waving at Saul as you passed him.

That night, you were sitting on your futon, which you’d placed in the living room with the travel trunk, watching videos on your phone. You were having a hard time sleeping, when you heard a loud THUMP in your backyard. Immediately you reached for your pistol and flashlight, holding them like the self defense teacher had showed you.

Carefully, you opened the back door a crack and called out, “I’m armed! Show yourself!”

Nothing.

You reached back and flipped on the back porch light, and there, in your yard, was a dead, bloody deer.

“What the fuck?” You breathed, lowering your flashlight and turning it off, but keeping your gun up and staying alert. How the hell had this thing gotten over the fence? While dead? Either it got over and then immediately died or something threw it over, and you weren’t sure which was more unsettling.

Going inside and reaching into your travel trunk, you pulled out a tarp and went back outside, rolling the poor thing into it and dragging it to the garage, which had a door to the backyard. You put the deer in the back of your van and started it up, backing out and heading out of town.

About ten minutes out, when you were surrounded by trees, you took the deer out of the van and dragged it several hundred yards beyond the treeline. Unwrapping it and rolling the tarp up with the intention of rinsing it off with the hose tomorrow morning, you left the poor thing there for the forest creatures to eat.

The next morning, after a bad night’s sleep, you cleaned the tarp and laid it out in the sun to dry. You were just thinking about breakfast when you heard a knock on the door. Standing there was a man with olive skin and greyish salt and pepper hair. He was wearing an apron.

“Morning!” He said brightly. “I’m Harun, I work at the butcher’s shop. I heard something about a deer?”

You frowned. “From who? I didn’t call anyone.”

“Your neighbors mentioned it,” He said, still maintaining a friendly smile.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Well, then, they need to mind their own business. I figure it got hurt and confused and jumped my fence. I’ve already taken care of it. I put it back in the woods, where it belongs.”

“Oh,” He replied, his smile faltering a bit. “Well, good job. But, just so you know, this kind of thing happens pretty frequently in this town. Next time, call us, okay? We donate unwanted meat to soup kitchens and shelters. Lots of hungry mouths that would appreciate the meal, you know?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You said. “But I’m hoping it doesn’t happen again.”

“Right,” He replied, laughing a little nervously. “Well, have a good day, ma’am.”

“Yep,” You said, shutting the door with a snap.

As the day wore on, you got a call from the grocery store telling you you could start in a few days. You celebrated by sleeping. You always slept better during the day.

That evening, you stayed awake, camped out on your back porch. You were feeling on edge. You didn’t really think the deer had somehow vaulted over the ten foot fence. Someone put it there. You’d had… anonymous gifts before, and you could go the rest of your life without more.

Eventually your eyelids began to droop and you weren’t going to fall asleep outside and exposed, so you went in, made sure everything was locked up tight, and fell asleep.

That morning, you walked out of your house, and three deer lay on your front lawn, each larger than the first one you’d found. Your body went cold your heart dropped down to your toes. You felt an steel band squeezing your chest and were having trouble breathing. You fought hard to keep the tears in check, but they were falling despite your best efforts. You took out your phone and called Billy.

He answered after one ring. “Hello?”

“Billy?” You said, sniffling. “I’m sorry, but I won’t need to be renting your property anymore. I’ll pay for the full month if you want, but I need to leave.”

“Why? What’s going on?” He asked, his gruff voice instantly alert and intense.

“I have to leave,” You sobbed into the phone. “I”m not safe.”

“Stay there!” He ordered you, his voice like iron. “I’ll be there soon. Don’t go anywhere.”

The line went dead, and you fell to your knees in the grass.

“Hey, are you okay?” You heard a voice ask. Shahan had just pulled up in his police car, likely to start his shift, and saw you kneeling there. You were sobbing too hard to say anything. He jogged over and knelt with you, patting your back as you wept.

A few minutes passed, and Billy’s truck skidded to a stop in front of your house.

“What is it?” He asked, squatting down. “What happened? Is it the deer? That happens all the time here, it’s nothing.”

“No!” You moaned. “You don’t understand!”

Shahan sits you on the porch as the butcher’s truck pulls up. Great, more eyes to watch you have a meltdown. Wonderful. It’s the same butcher from yesterday, Harun, striding up quickly in concern.

“What’s happened, are you alright?”

“Would you guys just give me a second to catch my breath!” You blurt out. You’re tired of them asking you questions. You just want them to shut up for a minute.

Shahan went to his car and grabbed you a water while Billy and Harun waited for you to calm down. You drained the bottle in seconds and wiped your face on your hoodie sleeve.

“I have a stalker,” You admitted eventually.

“A stalker?” Shahan said.

“Why didn’t you mention this?” Billy asked gruffly.

“Because people have refused to rent to me before, that’s why,” You snapped.

“What makes you think it’s this stalker of yours?”

“He used to send me dead animals in the mail to scare me. That’s how I know this is him. Who else could it be? What kind of sick freak leaves dead animals on a person’s front lawn?”

The three men shared a grim, meaningful look between them.

“Look,” Billy said. “Don’t leave town yet, okay? There’s someone you need to talk to before you make that decision.”

“Who?”

Billy looked up at the butcher. “Harun, would you…?” Billy said, a question in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m on it,” He said, pulling out his cell phone.

Your hand was shaking as you pushed your hair out of your face and tried to stand. “I have to pack up.”

“Just wait,” Billy said. “Shahan and I will stay with you until they get here.”

“They who?” You asked.

“The town leaders,” He said. “They’ll have some things they want to discuss with you. For now, let’s get you inside.”

Shahan and Billy follow you into the house as Harun loaded the deer into his truck. Billy looked at the futon and trunk and frowned.

“Is this all you have?” Billy asked.

“This is all I need,” You replied flatly. “When you have to move quick, it helps not to have too much shit to haul around.”

After a few minutes of terse silence, there was a knock on the door. You tensed as Billy opened it.

Inside came a very old woman, a few men including another police officer, and the young woman from the hardware store. A youngish man with very curly blonde hair came in after everyone else. He looked at you and came forward, his hand extended, a kind smile on his attractive angel face. He seemed to have a weird glow about him that you couldn’t explain.

“I’m Adam,” He said, shaking your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He turned to introduce the people who had come with him. “This is Mrs. Locklear, Delaynie, Beau, Canvas, Angelo, and Kamilla, whom you’ve met.” He laid a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently. “I think we need to talk.”

“Okay,” You said suspiciously. “I know you told me your name, but that doesn’t actually tell me who you are.”

“For all intents and purposes, I guess you could say I’m… the mayor? Insomuch as this town needs a mayor,” Adam replied.

“Awful young to be a mayor,” You said, eyeing him up and down. “I’m guessing you didn’t win any sort of election.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Not as such. You’re pretty perceptive.”

“I’ve had to be.” You pulled your hoodie around you more tightly. “Being sharp has kept me alive.”

“Yes, about that,” The tall, dark man called Delaynie said. He looked an awful lot like Billy, but thinner and less tall. “We were given a very brief summary, but can you elaborate on this situation of yours?”

“Why does it matter?” You asked, feeling exhausted and exasperated.

“We may be able to protect you, but we need to know more about it,” Canvas said. “There’s a lot of families and kids in this town, and we need to make sure everyone is protected.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” You said, rubbing your eyes. “I’m sorry I brought this here.”

Adam stopped you by raising his hand. “That’s not what he meant,” He said. “He means we aren’t strangers to defending this town and its people against threats. We just need to know what we could be dealing with.”

After a moment’s hesitation, you went to your trunk and pulled out a file, handing it to Adam.

“His name is Richard Gish,” You said. “He’s in his late forties and has got a history of stalking, starting from early high school. I’m just his latest fixation.”

“Is this a police file?” The other officer, Angelo, asked, looking over Adam’s shoulder. “How did you get this?”

“Is that really a question you want answered?” You asked flatly. “You have it. It’s easier than making an inquiry, isn’t it?”

“When did this start?” Shahan asked.

“Three years ago. I started getting letters in the mail. They were creepy and odd, love letters from a guy I’d never met. When I didn’t respond, they became aggressive. I tried to ignore it, but I started getting pictures with the letters. Pictures of me taken from a long way off. Pictures of me coming out of my job, going into my gym, outside my house. He was following me.”

“Did you report it to the police?” Angelo asked, still reading the file.

“Of course I did, but they said they couldn’t do anything unless he actually tried to hurt me. So I moved. And he followed.” You sniffled and rubbed your face with both hands. “He finally came up to me on a crowded street and introduced himself, and I slapped him and told him to leave me alone. After that, he went from professing his love for me to threatening to kill me and my family. I went into hiding about two years ago.”

“How serious has it gotten? Has he done more than letters and threats?” Shahan asked.

“Half a year ago, he broke into my apartment and attacked me with a knife. I shot him, but he disappeared. I’ve been on the move ever since, sleeping in my van in between towns. But he’s always managed to track me down. I’ve only been here three days and he’s found me again.”

“You’re talking about the deer, right?” The rather tall old woman named Mrs. Locklear asked. She had a presence about her as well, but it was different from Adam’s.

“Yeah,” You said.

“There’s another explanation for that,” Adam replied.

“Which would be?”

He smiled almost apologetically. “This isn’t a normal town.”

“I gathered that,” You said sardonically.

“I’m sure you have,” He said. “The deer are gifts from someone in town who admires you.”

You squinted in confusion. “What kind of people leave dead animals as gifts?”

“Werewolves.”

He said this without a trace of mirth or mockery. You blinked slowly. “Look, I don’t have time for whatever bullshit cult nonsense this town is into--”

“Beau,” Adam said, turning to a large man with an incredible amount of scars on his face and arms.

Beau stepped forward and said, “Don’t be scared, okay?” And suddenly he began to grow and change, fur sprouting from his skin and his bones rearranging themselves into a new shape. His sudden growth stretched his already tight t-shirt. He didn’t shift completely; he was still standing on his back two paws and his front paws were still functional as hands, but they had paw pads and claws.

They were all looking at you like they expected you to scream or freak out, but you had no reaction, you simply stared at Beau in his new form. You came closer and inspected him, even circling him once, appraising his strength in this body, satisfied with what you could see.

“It ain’t you, is it?” You asked him suspiciously. “The deer?”

“Oh, god, no,” He said, his voice more rough in this form. “No offense, but I’m married.”

“Fair enough,” You replied, and he shifted back into his human form.

“You’re taking this a lot better than I expected,” Adam said.

“I’ve seen scarier things,” You said blackly. “So, this isn’t Gish, but some rando werewolf in your town who saw me and thought I was cute or something?”

“There’s a bit more to it than that,” Adam said. Behind him, his people were passing the file around and studying the picture of Gish in it. “Werewolves know their mates upon seeing them, and once they recognize them, they begin a ritual. It starts with the animals. Hunting is our way of showing a potential mate that we can provide for them. After the gifts, they introduce themselves in their wolf forms, allowing you to gauge their worthiness. Once you accept them, they scent you, so that other weres know your off the market, so to speak. Then the final part of the mating ritual is… well… mating. You usually don’t know who it is until after the ritual is over, unless you’ve managed to guess beforehand.”

You had your arms folded during this explanation and took a moment to absorb it all. “No offense to your whole town dynamic or anything,” you began slowly. “But that’s the creepiest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“I can see how it might look to an outsider, certainly--” Adam said, but you stopped him this time.

“No, you really don’t,” You replied, going back to the trunk and pulling out a piece of paper. “Read the first paragraph of that.”

“What is it?” Adam asked, frowning.

“It’s the first letter he sent me.”

Adam, brow furrowed, began to read aloud. “’You don’t know me, but I have seen you many times. I don’t have the words to describe how beautiful you are. The moment I saw you, I’…” Adam paused, a grimace on his face. “’I knew you were my soulmate. We were meant for each other. And I won’t stop until I prove it to you.’”

There was a discontented murmur through his group. You were sure it was strange to them to see their own ritual turn on its head into something sinister and threatening.

“Do you get it now?” You asked Adam.

“I believe I do, yes,” He said, handing the paper back.

“So, you’re offering protection,” You said, folding the paper up and putting it in your pocket. “I’m guessing you’re all--”

“Ah, let me stop you there,” Adam said. “I am the Alpha werewolf in town. That much you’re allowed to know. But we have rules. Rule number one, you can’t ask who is a werewolf and who isn’t. Two, you can’t guess out loud or gossip about it with other people. Three, if you know someone who is a werewolf, you can’t tell anyone.”

“That seems highly impractical.”

“Perhaps so,” Adam admitted with a smile. “But it’s kept this town and its residents safe and free from scrutiny from the outside, and that’s very important to us. I’m sure that’s a sentiment you can understand.”

You nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, I get it. So I can’t ask if you know who’s been leaving me these… offerings, then.”

He shook his head, his blonde curls bouncing around his face. “I’m afraid not.”

“Fine,” You assented. “But could you pass along the message that I’m not interested?”

“I can,” He said. “Now, if you want to leave, we won’t stop you. But you’re tired; I can see it in your face. We can offer you protection, if you’re willing to stay. Living here makes you one of us, and we look after our own. You have my promise on that.”

You sighed. “I’ll give it a shot,” You said, shrugging noncommittally. “But one more dead thing, and I’m out of here.”

He held up his hands in placation. “I completely understand. I hope we can make you feel safe.”

“Me, too,” You said.

“We’ll leave you, then,” Adam said, nodding at his generals, and they began to file out of the house. “Please let us know if you have any trouble. We’ll do what what can to help.” He held out his hand again.

You took it. “I appreciate that.”

He nodded in farewell and followed the others out. Billy was the only one left. He folded his arms across his chest and regarded you with a fierce expression.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in trouble, kid?” He grumbled, sounding angry.

“I told you why,” You said. “Like I said, people have refused to rent to me before. I’ve been fired from jobs. One town sheriff literally told me to leave and that he’d arrest me if I ever came back.”

“Well, we ain’t like that,” Billy said. “I hope we’ve managed to drill that into your thick skull.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” You said, swatting at him. “Now get out of my house, old man.”

He snorted, the corner of his lip turning up. “No wonder you’ve outrun this asshole so long. Made of stone, you are.”

You nodded in acknowledgement, shrugging one shoulder.

“Take care, kid,” He said, and let himself out.

That night, you went to take the trash to the bin and stopped in your tracks. There, at the end of the walkway that led from the front door to the sidewalk, sat a wolf. It had a golden coat with black fur running from between his ears, down his back, to the tip of his tail. It was large and tall, but unlike Beau, who was solid and broad, this one was slim, with skinny legs and a short coat, almost like a coyote. From the way it was sitting, you could tell it was male. His ears were flat against his head, and he whimpered slightly.

“Am I assuming you’ve come here to apologize?”

He gave a weak bark, trying not to make too much noise, laying down on the pathway and not attempting to come closer. You threw the trash bag into the bin that was next to the house, and sat down on the porch, resting your elbows on your knees.

“You know, you remind me of a mutt I had when I was a kid. You’re lucky I loved that dog.” You waved him up. “Come on.”

He immediately got up and joined you on the porch.

“Stay a wolf,” You said warningly. “I’m tired of dealing with people, even wolf people.”

He bobbed his head once, which you took as agreement.

You looked out, able to see the main street of the town from where you sat. It was late, so the town was quiet.

“It’s pretty here,” You mused, talking to yourself, really, but out loud so that he could hear, too. “I wouldn’t mind staying. Though… I really wish I could go home.”

He lay down next to you with his front paws dangling from the step, looking up at you as you spoke, quiet and attentive.

“I haven’t seen my mother in two years,” You said, still looking at the town but no longer seeing it. “I have two brothers, one older and one younger. My older one was having a baby with his wife. My younger brother was in highschool. They don’t even know what’s happened to me, you know. I told them about the stalker, but when it got serious, I just… left. I didn’t call them or leave a note.”

You sighed. “Maybe they think he kidnapped me and I’m dead. Maybe they’ve mourned me and moved on. Maybe, if I ever go back, they won’t want to see me.”

You didn’t realize you were crying until the wolf licked your cheeks. You let yourself break down. He put his head on your shoulder and licked your ears, and you put your arm around him and stroked his fur. God, you missed that dog.

You sat there for hours, talking to yourself and the wolf sitting next to you. You’d spent the last two years keeping everything about yourself quiet, so actually letting it out was extremely cathartic. You talked until your throat was dry, cried until you had no tears left, and pet the wolf the entire time. He never spoke, just let you get everything out and listened.

“God, I’m tired,” You said eventually, rubbing your eyelids. You looked at the wolf sitting next to you, narrowing your eyes a little. “If you stay a wolf, you can come in. Unless you’ve got wolf stuff to do.”

He jumped up and smiled that cute doggy smile, tongue sticking out and everything. You rolled your eyes and got up, opening the door and going inside with him on your heels. While standing, he came up above your hip.

You sat on your futon, taking off your hoodie to get ready for bed. You took your self defense items out and laid them in their usual place on the bed. He sat on the outside of the futon, bowing his head and whimpering.

You sighed. “Don’t shed on my futon.”

He barked and bound onto the mattress, laying down next to you. The warmth of his large body was welcome, and you fell asleep much more quickly than normal.

When you woke, he was gone. There was a note on the pillow next to you. Pushing down your natural paranoia, you opened it.

         I had to go to work, but I’ll come back tonight, if that’s okay. And I promise, no more dead animals. How about some take out instead? Do you like Chinese?

                 --S

You smirked. Damn it, he was smooth. It was hard to push him away, especially as a wolf. The silent presence and warmth of him close by last night was… comforting. Comfort was something that had been in short supply over the last couple of years. You were suddenly thinking that maybe you should get a dog.

Now that you realized he wasn’t like Gish, you were starting to wonder who he really was. You still weren’t interested in a romance, not yet, but the mystery was intriguing, only made more so by the fact that you couldn’t ask anyone about it.

After breakfast, you walked up to the grocery store to finish up the new hire paperwork, and saw Shahan as you came out.

“Oh, hey!” He said. “I wanted to check on you after yesterday. I was going to make a house call, but you weren’t home. How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay,” You said, surprising yourself by finding you actually did feel okay. “Honestly, the… special qualities of this town have me feeling a little safer. And the fact that you guys didn’t throw me out when you learned about my problem is nice. Having it out in the open is nice. Keeping it a secret is… really tiring.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” He said with a chuckle.

“I can’t ask you…” You started, and he shook his head.

“Sorry,” He replied regretfully.

You shrugged. “It’s okay. I always liked a good mystery.”

He smiled warmly. “Well, I’m glad you’re in better spirits. You had us worried yesterday.”

“Sorry about that,” You said, wincing. “It was just scared and overwhelmed.”

He held his hands up. “No, I totally understand. If I were in your shoes, I’d have freaked out, too. We’re stepping up security around the town, just in case. Adam has also ordered his most trusted to do rounds in the woods around the town. If he comes anywhere near here, we’ll catch him.”

You took a big breath and released it. “That’s a huge relief. This is the first time in a long time I’ve felt… hope.”

“Good,” He said, his smile very warm, his golden-green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “I’m very glad.”

You felt warm under his gaze, and thought you might be blushing. “I… uh… I’m kinda tired. I think I’m going to go home and rest.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” He said, briefly touching your arm. You had to suppress a shiver. “Take care of yourself, okay? And remember, we’re right next door if you need us, so don’t be a stranger.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You said, a real smile on your face for the first time in months.

That night, you waited on your front porch for the wolf. He showed up at half-past eight with a bag in his mouth.

“Stay a wolf,” You told him, and again he bobbed his head in understanding. “Come on up.”

He headed up the walkway and passed the bag to you. As promised, there was honey chicken, fried rice, and some eggrolls. You were so happy. You hadn’t had a meal that wasn’t a quick burger or a peanut butter sandwich in ages. You opened his take out box for him, and he wolfed his food down happily. You wondered if he found eating like this demeaning, but he didn’t seem to mind.

After you finished eating, you sat with him on the porch, watching the fireflies in the trees and listening to the sounds of the evening. His head lay in your lap and you stroked his ears absentmindedly. It was the most comfortable you’d been in a while.

“Listen,” You said quietly. He didn’t get up, but his ears quirked to listen to you better. “I know you think you’re in love with me, and maybe you are, but… I’m scared. I’m scared of being in another situation I can’t control. You understand that, don’t you?”

He gave a grumbling sort of whine, which you took to mean yes.

“I can’t get into a relationship. Not just with you, with anyone. Not until Gish is out of my life for good. So, for now… I can’t know who you are. It would make this whole thing weird for me. I’d feel like you were only interacting with me because of some biological imperative that really doesn’t have anything to do with me. I didn’t choose this, you know?”

Another grumble.

“But… I do like your company. It’s nice to have someone I can talk to. Maybe it’s because as a full wolf, you can’t talk back, but it feels like I can tell you anything and you won’t pass judgment on me.”

You sighed, and paused in your petting. He lifted his head from your lap and sat up, looking at you with earnest eyes.

“If you want to keep seeing me as a wolf, that’d be okay with me. But only if it’s okay with you. And don’t base the decision on this magical connection we’re supposed to have. Really think about it seriously. If it would be difficult or painful or offensive to you to keep coming here as a wolf and not a man, I get that. It’s up to you. We should both have a choice.”

He took a moment to consider, then he lay back down, putting his head in your lap again, sighing contentedly.

You smiled down at him and resumed the pets. “I guess I have my answer.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[archadianskies]

[Ch2 of {the softness in the steel}; warning: explicit sexual content below]

→ on Ao3

It’s been three days since the mission where everything went wrong, two days since he visited the rookie in Jericho’s Med Bay and a day since he’s been back at work. It’s meant to be business as usual and would’ve been, if not for the fact he kissed that android and made some sort of vow to treat his heart well. Fuck.

He can try and blame the exhaustion, the lack of sleep, the shock of sticking his hands into the android’s open chest and holding his heart together for his sudden lapse in judgement. He’s always kept people at arm’s length using the excuse it’s to keep them safe but that’s only half true. The truth is he’s terrified because he knows what love is, he grew up in it, basked in its glow under the care of his mothers. He knows it can be ugly and fearsome and all-consuming, and that it’s hard work, back breaking work and compromise and the belief that love conquers all is what makes it true, what makes it real, what makes it worth it. 

It’s too frightening, the fear of giving himself so wholly to someone else and so he’s hidden behind his job all these years to avoid it. And it’s all come crashing down because of one android, so painfully honest, so openly vulnerable with his heart on his sleeve that it’s almost magnetic, the helpless connection between them.

“Captain Allen?” The rookie stands in the doorway, waiting for permission to enter.

“Yes?” God why does he have to be so awkward? Why all this toeing the line, why all this caution around each other? It’s excruciating.

“I have submitted my application for a legal name. Once processed you will receive a copy for your records.” He stands in front of his desk at parade rest, body language formal but expression shy. “My name is Caleb Anderson.”

“Caleb.” He echoes, finding himself smiling. “Good name.”

“Thank you sir.” He ducks his head, and there’s an honest to god soft lilac tinge across the tops of his cheeks. (Does the DPD have a direct line to Elijah Kamski? He’d like a formal word.)

“Would you like to go for a drink after work?” He blurts it out like a high schooler up to his eyeballs in hormones, and realises his mistake immediately. “Oh, err, you can’t drink alcohol. I guess it’d be pointless.”

“I understand it’s a social invitation, sir.” Caleb smiles shyly. “I’d like to spend time with you socially. Besides, the bar down the road sells beverages for android consumption, it wouldn’t be pointless.”

“Alright. Drinks after work, then.”

“I look forward to it.”

 *~*

That he has any semblance of social skills is a testament to his school teacher mother, that even after all these years of quick and dirty hookups via apps, the moment he’s taking someone out for a drink he’s automatically getting the door for him, taking his coat from him, offering him the first seat. It’s all muscle memory, and he wonders what his ma will think of him trying to woo an android. Probably incredibly confused but still exasperatedly fond, as she usually is when trying to process most of his decisions. She’ll share that look with his mom and they’ll have an entire conversation through that look alone. He wants that, he thinks, that easy intuitive back and forth without a single word being said. He wants that kind of love. 

Caleb is right, they sell something called Tearium which is thirium coded to imitate human beverages. There’s a whiskey one apparently, so he orders him one of those to match the real whiskey for himself. Subtly Caleb brushes his ankle against his, trying to feign innocence but failing to play it cool because that soft lilac tinge spreads over his cheeks and the tips of his ears and god, he’s ruined, he’s such a mess for him already. When did he get so soft? More importantly, when did he stop permitting himself to be soft around others? When was the last time he allowed someone close enough to be soft with them? 

He actually doesn’t remember a single thing they discuss, though they apparently discuss a lot because it’s past ten when they leave. All he thinks about is how that blush is driving him insane and how he wants to kiss him so badly it’s a physical ache.

“Night cap?” He offers as they’re standing at the curb waiting for a cab. 

“You wouldn’t have anything for me to drink, I wager, sir.” Caleb says lightly, and they’re standing just far enough between the streetlamps that the light looks like a halo behind his dark hair. Their fingers brush, and Caleb traces the inside of his palm delicately. The contact burns. He dares to step closer, lips brushing his ear as he tangles their fingers together.

“Come home with me anyway.” 

The taxi arrives and they crawl inside and Caleb straddles his lap and then they’re kissing, they’re finally kissing. 

“I have thought of nothing but you, nothing but doing this with you.” Caleb whispers, voice slightly staticky when they pull away. He paws at the buttons of his shirt impatiently. “Last week in the showers, when I touched your scar- your skin was so warm. I’d never touched a human before. You had droplets of water all over you. Caught up in your hair. Dotting your lashes. Running down your skin.” He leans in and punctuates each statement with a kiss, hand slipping inside his shirt. “I wanted to taste it. I wanted to taste you. I went home that evening and I touched myself while thinking of you.”

“Christ Caleb.” He hisses as the android scratches his nails along his ribs, head swimming as he tries to process the confession. Caleb looks down at him, lids heavy and cheeks flushed. 

“It felt good, touching myself while thinking of you, but-” he tips his head back, exposing his throat and he accepts the invitation, licking a long stripe and revelling in the shudder he extracts. “But I want to know what it really feels like, to be touched by you.”

God the guy’s brand new, this is a first for him and if he stops to think about it, it’s a first for him too. He’s bedded a lot of people to sate these basic cravings, with a variety of...genital configurations, but he’s never taken an android to bed before. Guess there’s still a first time for everything. 

He fumbles for his keys when the cab pulls up and Caleb dives forward to slam his palm on the dashboard, LED flickering yellow rapidly before settling back to blue. 

“What-”

“Scrubbed the security feed.” The android shrugs, expression mischievous. “Wouldn’t want the taxi company seeing all that.”

“I’d say they’re used to it.” To his credit he manages to keep it together long enough to swipe the security fob against the panel and keeps his hands to himself in the elevator, blatantly ignoring the intense look of hunger on Caleb’s face. To his credit it only takes him two tries to unlock his door and then he’s being slammed against it and kissed senseless as the android makes short work of divesting him of his clothes. 

“Stop.” He says firmly, pushing him back by the shoulders. Caleb pauses, LED red and lips glossy and hair tousled; a perfect picture of debauchery. He takes a deep breath and cups his nape, thumb rubbing along his synthetic skin. “Do you really want to do this?”

“Yessir.” No hesitation.

“We’re not at work, Caleb.” He chastises gently, and something wicked flickers in those grey eyes as he feigns innocence more successfully this time.

“But David, I can see how it affects you when I say it.” He nearly purrs the word. “Sir.”

He growls and tightens his hold on his nape, like holding the scruff of a dog to keep it in check. “How do I-” he swallows thickly, trying to distract himself from the throbbing ache between his legs, “how do I please you? Teach me.”

Why is the bedroom the furthest room from the door? They stumble to it somehow, losing the rest of their clothes along the way, pausing only so he can watch Caleb’s gorgeous ass when he walks ahead, and then he’s pushing the android down onto his bed. Past him really had no idea he made the best choice ever choosing black sheets because it makes Caleb’s pale skin glow. Their mouths meet, and it’s a clumsy, feverish clack of teeth and tongue and he wants to devour him whole. Caleb grabs his wrist and guides it between his legs.

“I have a- there’s-” the android lets out a frustrated growl, seemingly done with words and simply swaps to actions instead. He presses his fingers along a discreet seam in the crease of his inner thigh, and when he hooks his nails in the faint indent it slides a hatch open. Huh. Inbuilt codpiece to protect the bits. Neat. Scooting down further on the bed, he lowers himself for a closer look.

“God is that all for one person?” He blurts, and Caleb blinks in surprise, propping himself up by his elbows.

“What?”

“Why are you so big?” Blood’s all between his legs and none left in his brain apparently. 

“I- is it not proportionate to my build?” Caleb stammers, confused and slightly defensive.

“I’m not complaining, I promise.” He laughs because, well he’s an idiot for him apparently as he scoots further down on the bed so he can admire the android’s stiffening cock. “Show me how you touched yourself the other night.” 

“Yessir.” Caleb says obediently, palming himself slowly before gripping the base of his cock and thumbing over the slit. He tips his head back, arching slightly into his hand as he strokes himself slowly. Spreading his legs wider, he reaches further between his legs with his other hand and eases a finger inside, face going slack with pleasure. 

“You thought of me while doing this?” His voice is rough and dry as he cradles his hips, leaning in to press open mouthed kisses to Caleb’s pale thighs. 

“Yessir.” He bites his bottom lip as he presses another finger inside. “No one but you.”

“Let me touch you.” He kisses the base of his cock, nipping at Caleb’s fingers playfully. “Will you let me touch you?” He waits until Caleb nods, pulling his hands away and resting them on his shoulders, grip tight. He wonders if he should say grace before this meal, and the absurd thought makes him giggle and everything is wonderfully ridiculous. The android is...wet where he shouldn’t be, and that’s another thing he’s going to have to talk to Elijah Kamski about (though actually he’s not sure if Kamski designed this one, in which case a formal investigation will need to be opened to find those individuals responsible). Pushing his tongue inside of him coaxes a strangled choke of surprise out of Caleb, causing him to buck his hips reflexively. It’s delightful so he latches his mouth over his hole and sucks as he licks inside of him. He tastes vaguely of salt, like a mild mimicry of sweat. 

“Please, please sir I-” Caleb whines, clawing at his back. He pulls away and crawls up his body so he can kiss him, rutting against him for that delicious friction. “In, please, please I need you inside me.” The android is leaking as if he possessed a vulva and he finds that a fascinating, lewd little disregard for human physiology. Caleb’s thighs are slippery with it, and there’s a growing damp spot on the dark sheets. Fuck, he finds that so hot. Clumsily reaching between them, Caleb squeezes his cock and guides the tip to his asshole, bucking needily against him. “In.” 

He breaches him slowly and all he can process is tight and wet and hot. God he wants nothing more than to fuck him mercilessly, desperately, but the guy looks slightly nervous and so openly trusting that if he wanted to hurt him he’d just take it. And it’s that thought that makes him ease up, that makes him start off with an agonisingly slow pace so the android can adjust, adapt to the intrusion. 

“Is this what you thought of, when you touched yourself?” He whispers when he’s bottomed out, sheathed completely inside him. Caleb’s pupils are blown wide with lust, another minute detail someone surely borrowed from the Traci models because why else would a military android come undone like this? 

“Yessir.” A satisfied sigh, eyelids fluttering closed. Locking his legs around his waist and hooking his ankles together at the small of his back, Caleb wriggles impatiently. “Move, please.”

“This is alright?” He asks, pressing their brows together and not moving until Caleb opens his eyes. “Caleb? Is this alright?”

“I need more, please sir, please.” God he even begs so prettily, and that’s the cue he’s been waiting for. He loses himself to the raw animalistic urge to just fuck into that tight wet heat, hips snapping hard as he rutts into him. The room fills with the filthy sounds of their lust, of their panting, their groans, of the vulgar squish of his cock fucking into Caleb’s dripping ass. The android’s LED is a bright neon red in the dark of the room, painting his face in a soft pink hue. Beautiful.

An irritated, impatient growl escapes his throat, and Caleb grabs him by the shoulders, swapping their positions so the android is pinning him against the mattress. Chest heaving, Caleb takes a moment to smooth back his hair distractedly and he can only admire him in unabashed awe, eyes roaming over that perfectly chiselled body. Licking his lips, Caleb leans forward a little and guides his cock back to his asshole before swiftly dropping his entire weight down. It punches a moan out of him, and he grips Caleb’s hips as the android braces his hands on his chest and rides him wantonly. 

God he’s going to think of this every single night for as long as he lives, isn’t he? He’s never going to be able to forget the blissful expression on Caleb’s face, the burning red LED at his temple, the slick smeared all over their thighs, the pretty way he nearly sings in gratification as he bounces on his cock. 

“That’s it baby, that’s it.” He tosses his head back against the pillows. “Take your pleasure from me, it’s all yours.” The climax hits him between the eyes, everything rising from fever pitch to white hot and blanking him out for a few glorious moments as he spills himself inside of him and he chases after it as Caleb shudders above him, face frozen as he reaches his own orgasm, spurting sticky white ribbons across his stomach. They stay that way for a little while, and he tries to remember how to breathe as he feels Caleb’s thighs tremble as the aftershocks of his climax settle in. He runs his palms along those strong, muscular thighs, grin lazy and thoughts hazy. 

“That was-” Caleb pants, LED flickering red-yellow-red-yellow before slowly spinning blue. “That was a lot.” He eases himself off his softening cock and sprawls out beside him atop the ruined sheets. He looks beautifully fucked out and lax, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss him, slowly, sweetly. When was the last time doing this ever meant something? Did it ever mean anything to him? Who knew all it would take to lower his defences was a 6’5” Terminator with the personality of a loyal puppy and nearly losing him on a mission while having to literally hold his broken heart in his hands. 

“C’mon. Shower time. We’re both a mess.” He grunts, pushing himself to sit up and get off the bed. Caleb doesn’t follow immediately, reaching out to smear the thick stripes of come on his stomach before bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking it away. The sight makes desire stir in his cock tiredly and he rolls his eyes. “Do not.” A warning that goes unheeded as the android reaches between his legs to dip two fingers in his messy hole, maintaining eye contact as he sucks them clean. Fuck. “Caleb.”

“Coming, sir.” He says casually, following him to the bathroom. The large glass shower fits them both, not too snug they can’t move but enclosed enough they have to stay close. It’s a stupidly expensive apartment but now he’s glad he bought it with all its fancy modern trappings. Like this shower that can fit them both, with enough room for Caleb to drop to his knees and start sucking him off. He bites back a groan, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other tangling in his dark hair. Caleb looks up at him with those bright grey eyes, and the sick fuckers at CyberLife built him with no gag reflex apparently because he swallows him down with no pause. 

He’s already sensitive from his last orgasm, but oh fuck he’s hard again in record time. Strong hands grip his ass and keep him from thrusting into his mouth, Caleb controlling his pace as he bobs back and forth, able to take him from tip to base effortlessly. He comes embarrassingly fast with a long string of expletives and the smug, mischievous look on Caleb’s face as he swallows is hotter than the entire act of fellating him. 

“You little shit.” He pants, boneless as he slumps against him once Caleb is back on his feet.

The android hums a little pleased noise, arms wrapping around him. “You told me to take my pleasure from you, so I’m taking it.” Kisses are smudged atop his head and after a moment there’s a soft click behind him. Fingers scritch along his scalp, lathering shampoo into his hair and there’s something way too intimate about this, and it’s both exhilarating and terrifying all at once. He grabs the shampoo bottle, squirting out a dollop before reaching up to muss it into Caleb’s hair.

“Oh, it isn’t real there’s no need to-”

“I want to.” He cuts him off, trying to keep his voice casual. “I want to do this.”

The shower lasts far longer than a shower should because his limbs feel heavy and the heat and the steam are clouding his head and making everything feel not quite real. Caleb turns off the water eventually and they pat themselves dry with the towels, and then they’re crawling into bed and tangling their legs beneath the sheets. Is this his belated birthday present? Is this good karma for palming off the mission to confront the deviants marching down the streets, those same deviants later on identified as the Jericho Four? Is this the universe’s way of rewarding him for getting his shit together and crossing to the right side of history?  

Caleb makes a soft pleased little noise as he tucks his head beneath his chin, arms draped loosely around him. “You’re thinking so loudly. What are you thinking about?” 

The question makes him pause, and he cards his fingers through the android’s dark hair, idly tracing his blue LED. “That I could get used to this.” The ring flickers yellow, blinking rapidly for a good thirty seconds before cycling back to blue. “Caleb?”

“Oh, that was Connor.” The android murmurs, words smudged into his collarbone. “I was just telling him I was staying the night after having sexual relations with you.”

“...what?”

“Hm?” 

“What did you tell him?”

“Well I-” Caleb pulls back just a little so he can blink up at him. “I live with my brother, at Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s house. I return there after work, every day. I initially told him I was staying out late to have drinks with you under the assumption I would be returning home afterward. Unless...you’d rather I leave?”

“No! God no, I don’t want you to leave.” He reassures hurriedly, pressing a kiss to his frown. “I just- I wasn’t expecting you to tell Connor...that.”

The android regards him with those startling grey eyes, blinking slowly, LED flickering yellow briefly before a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “You’re nervous because you think my brother is going to tell Hank.”

“Hank Anderson is likely to skin me alive tomorrow if Connor tells him exactly what you just told him, yes.” He grumbles as Caleb laughs brightly and he can’t ignore the lightness in his chest, that happy little skip his heart makes as the android nuzzles under his chin again. 

“I’ll deal with that in the morning.”  

[gold-from-straw]

Zero Degrees 2

Read from the beginning on AO3 if you prefer! I’ll also tag anyone from the notes of this chapter in my next post, I hope that’s OK! Otherwise it’s so damn hard to find posts...

"Wow, your car is amazing," Njala said as Mum pressed the key fob.

"Thanks," she laughed. "Get in, then. Bhaya will have to go on her dad's lap, but you guys can all fit in the back. Shopping bags in the boot first."

Even Teli stared around the car when they climbed in and Mum started the engine. Njala was stroking the leather and pulling open every pocket and storage area he could find, chattering away at high speed and pointing them out to his big brother. Teli directed Mum down Parklands Road, just past the giant white model of a lotus flower outside the Raja Yoga centre.

"There it is," he said, pointing to a mustard yellow block of flats. Mum pulled off the road onto the dirt driveway and waited at the black gate for the askari to let them in, while Erika stared open-mouthed and tried very hard not to judge.

The thing was, they went to a private school. Erika's family didn't consider themselves particularly wealthy - comfortably middle class, maybe, but there were other kids in Erika's class who lived in mansions and got five thousand shillings pocket money every month. She wasn't stupid, she didn't think she was that naïve, and she was well aware of the vast inequalities in her country. All Kenyans knew how bad some people had it, and at least this place wasn't one of those shanties the city council would bulldoze and set on fire for kicks like they sometimes did in Kibera, but even so...

The building was seven storeys high, loomed over by skyscrapers, or building sites for skyscrapers. Grey water stains draped down the walls like grasping fingers, TV aerials stood crooked on the roof with wires sagging from them. Every window up to the top floor was barred, and no attempt had been made to twist the iron into something decorative. There was laundry hanging on wires in every balcony.

It was the kind of invisible place she saw every day from the bus window, stared at unseeing when stuck in Nairobi traffic jams. If she ever really thought about it, it was probably the kind of place their maid Florence lived in.

Njala waved to the askari while Teli climbed carefully out of the car with a sleeping Bhaya and beckoned them all upstairs. The stairwell smelled of fried fish and cabbage, and someone was washing the second floor landing with a broom, sluicing water across the concrete so that it dripped down to the steps below and made them precariously slippery.

Their flat was on the third floor, and as Teli juggled the keys into the heavy iron gate in front of the door, a young man opened it from inside and ran out, an apron still round his waist and arms soapy to the elbows. "Father, you're back early."

Of all the Hotokes, he looked the most… well, normal was probably an insulting word. But he was. He had a round, friendly face with the family's high cheekbones, curled black lashes and a warmth to his brown skin that none of the others shared. He really didn't look like Teli much at all. He looked like a younger version of Erika's dad, actually, and she couldn't help smiling back at him when he spied her and Mum behind his dad.

"Hello, new people."

"Hi, I'm Gloria, nice to meet you," Mum said, flashing her white teeth in her standard self-confident grin. "This is my daughter, Erika."

"I'm Ummah," he said, taking half of Mum's bags. "And is this the Erika?" He smirked at Frio, who rolled his eyes and ducked his head again. "Sorry, little brother. Come in, please."

"Is he really your dad?" Erika blurted, unable to stop her bad manners. “Sorry... but you don't really look alike - and Teli looks really young as well."

Teli smiled, a darkly amused thing. "I assure you, I am older than I look."

"What she really means is she thinks I'm old," Mum grumbled, smirking and nudging her.

They crowded into the tiny flat, Njala dumping his bags on the counter of the kitchenette and running off to one of the bedrooms. Erika caught sight of a double and a single mattress on the floor before the door shut. Ummah went back to the washing up. Mum beckoned Erika and Frio over to the kitchenette with her head and they started sorting out the items that had been damaged in the fall while Teli took Bhaya to another bedroom and lowered her onto the double mattress on the floor there. He stroked her curls with a sad little smile, then gathered the mosquito net around her and backed out, closing the door.

"What happened, Father?" asked Ummah.

"Loud noises. Shouting. The usual," he said wearily and joined the pair sorting the shopping out.

Ummah winced, his face scrunched up in pity as he looked over to his little sister. "Did she get far?"

Teli shook his head. "No. But she was distressed when I caught up to her. I… at first I do not think she recognised me."

Ummah turned in the small space and wrapped his wet arms around his father's waist. Teli pressed his nose to his son's hair and hugged him back, a slightly wobbly smile on his face. Erika pretended not to see him wipe his cheeks as they returned to their jobs.

"I do not think much of this flour is salvageable," he said, crinkling his nose up as he lifted a paper bag of Exe out, torn and slimy with egg.

"Have any of the eggs survived?" Mum asked.

"Five are unbroken, another three are cracked. They should be fine if we use them soon."

Ummah checked the clock. "I can buy more on my way back from my shift."

"You should not have to waste your wages on--"

"Shhh!" he said imperiously. "I will help you whenever I please, Father, you are a fool if you think any of us would not." He dried his hands off and leaned close to Mum, lowering his voice to a mock-whisper. "He thinks he does not need any help."

"Ummah!" snapped Teli, and the boy winked at Mum.

"I like this one," she laughed.

"That makes one of us," Teli grumbled.

"Well, I like me too, so I believe you are outvoted, Father. Now, I must go, or I shall be late." He picked up a battered backpack from the corner and threw his apron over the back of a chair.

"Ummah," called Teli as he got to the front door. He turned, eyebrows raised in question. Teli came round the counter and hugged him very tight. "I love you very much. And I like you quite a lot too."

"I love you too, Father," he said, a smile in his voice.

"Be safe."

"Always."

He locked the door as Ummah left, and stood by the window to wave at him. Erika heard the clunk of the main gate, and Teli turned back, pausing for a moment to brush his fingers along a small side table with a collection of odd items. A teddy bear, a long speckled feather and a collection of candles on a white cloth, which formed a U shape around a beautiful glowing crystal ball. It looked a little like one of those plasma balls she'd seen in physics lessons, just smaller, with a soft, almost sleepy light inside. She wished she knew where they'd got it from, it was beautiful.

Teli cleared his throat as he looked up at them, clenching his hand away from the objects. "You do not need to sort the shopping, really, you have been very kind."

"It's no trouble," Mum said cheerfully. "So how long have you guys lived here then?"

"Ah, well, nearly a year."

"Where were you before then, where are you all from?"

"North," he said with a vague smile, and turned around to throw some of the dirty packaging in the bin. Mum raised an eyebrow at him, but left it alone.

"What are we going to do with these eggs, Father?” Frio asked.

"You could make cupcakes," Erika said.

"Ah," Teli frowned. "I'm not sure I have a recipe for those."

"I could write one down for you," Mum offered. "Erika and I make cupcakes every week, practically, don't we?"

"Cupcakes?" Njala squeaked. Erika hadn't even noticed him sneak back in. "Are we having cupcakes?"

Teli sighed. "I suppose just this once..."

"Sorry," Mum grimaced.

"No, that's fine," he said. "They deserve a treat. After all, it has been a while."

"Can we stay and help you guys make them?" Erika asked, looking between the two parents. Frio immediately looked up at his dad as well, and Teli rolled his eyes.

"Very well. It is not as if I know how to make them myself."

Mum grinned at him. "I promise I won't let them make a mess. Where do you keep the sugar?"

"Sugar..." he grimaced. "Ah. Is that a necessity?"

Mum frowned at Erika, then back at him. "Uh, yeah, it's a pretty integral part of it."

"Ah."

"Oh, no," Njala moaned, and leaned his head on the counter. "I'm starving!"

"Well, I was planning to make pancakes."

"That's not the same." The little boy's words were muffled as he pressed his face against the wood.

"Hey, how about this," Mum suggested. "You guys can come over to ours one day and we'll make cupcakes and decorate them, does that sound good?"

Njala leaped up. "Really?"

"Could they come this weekend? On Saturday?" Erika asked, her hands pressed together under her chin. "Please?"

"If you're not busy, we haven't got anything on."

"Really, that is not necessary." Teli looked slightly lost. "Please do not feel obliged--"

"I don't," Mum frowned. "I don't do everything out of some obligation, Teli. I like having other people over. You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I'm genuinely offering." She shook her head. "Come on, Erika, we need to let these guys get on."

"Father," Frio grabbed his dad's wrist, and Teli rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"I meant no offence," he said. "If you really don't mind..."

"No," she smiled, her voice still a bit exasperated. "I really don't, I wouldn't offer if I didn't think the kids would have a good time. Here, let me give you my address, we're only on Brookside Drive. Is Saturday OK?"

"I have work," Frio said softly.

"Sunday, then?"

He nodded and smiled through his braids at her. She scribbled their address and her phone number on a notes page in her schedule, then tore it out and handed it to Teli.

"Bye, Frio," Erika said as Teli let them out.

Frio waved at her and pushed the braids out of his face, tucking them behind his ear. "I'll see you tomorrow, Erika."

She followed her mum down the stairs, her shoes clattering on the concrete steps. The banisters were rough and cracked under her hands, shouts and music and a crying baby echoing about the stairwells from the other flats.

She and kept quiet until they were in the Range Rover. "Why do you think Teli's so weird, Mum?"

"I don't think he's weird,” Mum said, frowning a little. "Just awkward. Anyway, we'll see what happens on Sunday."

"How come they're so poor?"

"Erika!"

"No, really, Mum. I think all the boys share a bedroom, how can they even afford the school fees?"

She sighed and tapped her long nails on the steering wheel, but didn't answer. Erika looked out of the window as they pulled onto the Westlands roundabout yet again. "I felt kinda guilty that we've got all that stuff and they don't even have sugar."

"They might not have sugar because Teli's trying to keep them healthy."

"You know what I mean, though."

"Yeah," she said. "I know what you mean."

Thank you to @fullmetalcarer who liked and reblogged last week ^_^

[mercurymetals]

burn in paradise

I made three separate attempts at this over the past few months because I couldn’t decide how I wanted to approach this idea. One of these was even quite fluffy, but in the end I went with my usual cryptic mess of a style, and today I finally managed to wrap it up into a somewhat presentable state, so this is what you’re getting.

Both reader and Narancia are in their early 20s in this. No Stands, but Narancia’s still in Passione.

Warnings: Brief description of gore, and implied violence.

Your thumb flicks across the screen. In the dark, the blue light splays across your face, bright rectangles shaping in your pupils as you stare at the photos.

This one's a selfie you took with them just before the Fall Out Boy concert last summer. Evelina is sporting a huge grin and that limited edition FOB T-shirt she got years and years before you guys actually managed to attend a real concert. Leo is making a face, lips curled and pierced tongue out, his pink hair spiked with way too much gel, just as always.

You flick again. This one's from the trip you took to Paris over one weekend. Nora is in this one too, and the four of you are stood together with your arms around each other, the Eiffel Tower a huge blotch against the cityscape behind you. The next few photos are mainly you four making silly poses in the Louvre Museum in front of all the paintings. You smile as you look over these moments caught in time, your chest warm with nostalgia.

You hear footsteps. You dim your phone and slot it underneath the pillow, then shut your eyes tight. You don't move as you feel him shuffle into the bed by your side. There's a weight of an arm around you, heavy. Comforting.

...Heavy.

You try to fall asleep, but the nostalgic warmth has left you, and without it you feel so alone. Sometimes you think only when in sleep can you feel the comfort of the missing ones, and maybe that is why it escapes you.

You shift until you're facing him. You inch closer, until you can feel the level expanse of his chest with each breath against yours.

"What is it?" he murmurs sleepily.

"Nothing," you whisper. "Just... can't sleep."

He holds you closer, his hand around your back, your head tucked under his chin. You breathe deeply. He smells like cinnamon and sweat and a hint of orange from his favourite shampoo. You close your eyes and let yourself be enveloped by him.

You don't fall asleep for hours.

* *

In the morning you wake up and try to check the time on your phone, but it is gone. You sit up, your mind stirring with wakefulness, and then spot a tray on the table by your side of the bed.

It has a plate of slightly burned omelette, completely burnt toast that's been messily scraped clean, and a glass of orange juice. There's a note by it that reads, in squiggly script:

‘Sorry, got called in for a job.

Are you ank anxiu worrying again? Don't worry, I'll help you out. This is step one! Next one will be even better!!

Love you!!!

                                   - Narancia’

You look over the breakfast and smile. At least you've still got him. His is a different kind of warmth than the sweet nostalgia, but you want for it all the same.

His is a hot warmth, a crackling heat that is just a degree away from leaving a burn. But as whole-heartedly as the flames surround you, you know they will not singe your skin. He may have his flaws - he's a little untidy, he likes junk food all too much, he has a bit of a temper, sometimes he screams and other times he comes back with bloodied knuckles and cuts and ripped clothes and a violent spark in his eye - but you know he is sweeter than anyone, and his smile is enough to light up your heart.

You put the tray on your lap and you eat, missing him. When you're done, you go to put the tray away, and notice there’s something else scribbled on the back of the note.

‘I know what you did. Don't ever do that again. OK?’

You remember about the phone, and then you are missing it. Missing them. You are always missing things, these days.

* *

One night he takes you out to a bar. It's cheap and lively and the warmth it has reminds you of the careless warmth of your college days. Then you remember why you had to drop out, and you drop the thought out of your mind, too.

It's good and then it's better, for a short while, because someone taps you on the shoulder. You look and then you are diving headfirst into that nostalgia again, because the face in front of you is familiar and it is smiling and your lips stretch into a grin so wide it hurts your cheeks.

"I can't believe it's really you! It's been so long!" Your friend cries cheerfully, and you laugh, lost in the sea of memories his eyes bring when they meet yours.

Then he asks: "Who's that?" And turns his gaze behind you and you are struck by the ruthless present.

"My boyfriend, Narancia," you introduce with a smile that twitches at the edges as you watch them shake hands. Narancia isn't smiling.

"You need to catch me up on everything!" Your friend is sitting next to you and ordering a drink, and you think about all the things you can share with him, meaning none. This whole past year you have been caught in a bear trap, or two, or three, and all you could do was watch your skin and flesh rip from your bones as you tried to tear yourself out of their unmoved and unmoving jaws.

In some ways, they are still here, caught at your ankles, and you feel them sink into you a little deeper when your friend turns his smile back to you. All the same you let yourself be distracted by his stories, huddling closer to his temporary warmth. You're not sure why, but you are sure he is like a bonfire in a rainstorm - strong and beautiful and bright, but in the end, destined to be extinguished.

"Well, I'll be going out for a smoke," he says, lifting from the seat.

Narancia gets to his feet. "Me, too."

You look at him. "You don't smoke," you say.

He shrugs, avoiding your gaze. "I just want some fresh air."

Your friend is laughing. "Don't know how fresh it'll be with me smoking, but sure, come along."

They leave and in that loud and bustling place, you feel alone again. The bartender talks and gives you a drink and you sip it and wait. You sip it and wait. You sip it and wait.

Hours pass by. No, it's been ten minutes. That’s a long time for a smoke. You wait another five. The door opens and you look up, but it's someone else. You look past the couple that enters, but see nothing save for the dark, and then the door closes again.

You are outside before you know it. Around you, there is nothing but an empty street. A couple of street lights and no person in sight. You pause and stand there, lost.

Then you hear it. A noise that sounds something like a muffled cough. Or maybe a wheeze. And then maybe a squish. A scrape. Little hints of noises, nearby.

You turn to the alleyway down the side of the bar, and take a tentative step. You lean in, and peer into the darkness. You want to see nothing, but you are not so lucky. Movements stir in the shadows, and you recognise their forms, see the shape of Narancia leaned over someone on the ground, the lift of his hand enclosed around something sharp and then that soft squelching sound--

You back away, swallowing down any noise that threatens to spill. You stumble over to the door of the bar, and then you stand there, clutching the knob, your breaths loud enough to muffle any other sounds that might lurk in the vicinity.

Someone taps your arm. It's so familiar that you turn around with hope, but you meet round eyes of vicious purple and you freeze.

Narancia's breaths are fast too, heavy with unspoken deeds. He looks you over for a moment, and then says: "I think we should leave."

You tilt your head, lips quivering into a smile. "Is, is everything alright?"

"Yeah," he says, eyes dashing to the side. "Your friend left. I dunno what was up with him. Anyway, let's just go."

There's a speck of blood on his cheek. No, maybe that's just dirt. You step closer to him, surrounded by that scent he carries with him sometimes after coming home from a job. Sharp and metallic. His black clothes don't show any stains, but his fingertips look a little darker than usual. Maybe that's just the light.

You reach up and wipe the mark off his cheek, and then you nod. "Okay. Let's go," you say, and his face breaks into a wide grin that sends a bolt of warmth down your spine.

He hooks his arm around yours and pulls you away from the bar and the street and the icy-cold alleyway. You look over your shoulder and remember the bonfire, but you are surrounded by the crackling heat and it forces you to inch closer to Narancia’s side. He sees you looking, and his hand finds yours.

It’s red hot and sticky and it burns, burns - but no, that's just the squeeze of his fingers around your knuckles. You squeeze back, and the tide of those flames soothes away from you, appeased.

You stop looking, but you can't help thinking of that lingering pain, the warm pulsing in your skin from his touch, faint and wicked and obvious, so obvious.

[colorofmymindposts]

The Deviance of Two English Gentlemen Chapter Three

Chapter Title: The Unyielding Interim

Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (Ritchie films)/Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mary Morstan Rating: Teen and Up Status: Incomplete, chapters are posted weekly Word Count: 1514 for this chapter, 4291 for the entire work thus far Summary: Set post Game of Shadows. When Sherlock Holmes is given a case by none other than Mrs. Watson, he has no idea that he cannot fix the unsolvable for the couple. Intimate truths are exposed in the process, leaving all three irrevocably changed. Tags: Case Fic, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Secrets, Bickering Notes: The entire work can be read here on ao3. You can also read chapter one here and chapter two here. Note that this is not Brit-picked, but I tried my best.

Story:

The next two weeks passed in such an odd succession that Holmes began to wonder whether he was indulging too much in the comfort of his seven percent solution. After that first night, Watson had not come down for many hours, not until late afternoon, all dressed in clothes appropriated from Holmes’ wardrobe, though neither of them addressed the subject. He had given a curt thanks and goodbye before departing.

The next time Watson deigned it worthy of his time to visit, Holmes had just finished conducting his experiment on the potency of various chloroform formulas. When Watson burst into his rooms, unannounced, he scolded Holmes for not leaving the flat in a span of time which had lasted four days apparently. In a fit of frustration, Watson left in search of food, insisting Holmes was going to “lose half a stone at this rate” if he continued in his totally reasonable, reclusive behaviours. Later, they chatted over dinner about the day’s newspaper, Holmes’ findings in the last seventy-two hours of intense dedication to the differences between trichloromethane and ether while Watson contributed an anecdote here or there about an unruly patient in the clinic.

They did not talk about Mary. They also did not speak of Watson’s domestic, precipitating him to storm off and drown his sorrows in cheap ale. Holmes had suspicions, however, even if he didn’t voice them.

One possibility was infidelity. “Three continents Watson” would imply to a simpleton that he was dissatisfied in marriage, but Holmes knew his Watson better. A man as loyal as he, who followed Holmes into the thoroughfare of the European criminal underworld with revolver in hand and no questions asked, would not be a husband who would lie with another woman. Especially not when Watson was clearly enamored by his Mary’s charms and said wife was understandably in love with Watson, a phenomenon Holmes could not explain but inherently knew was truth.

The second situation was problems with money, hypothetically. For some unknown reason, Watson had adopted a rather Draconian ideal of finances and women’s place within that (being nonexistent) much to Holmes’ chagrin, particularly as he knew undoubtedly Mrs. Watson would manage transactions far better than that gambling boy. But for such a violent reaction to occur those six nights ago, when Holmes had repeatedly criticized Watson’s handling of his funds in the past, this hypothetical seemed, just as the previous one, highly unlikely.

The third scenario Holmes could not feasibly wrap his head around without feeling prone and ill inside. Simply put, the consummation of marriage...was known to have its difficulties. The desired product of a match between man and wife as desired by a Christian God would only solidify the reality of Watson’s world apart from Holmes’ own isolated one, never again to amalgamate together but at short, infrequent intervals. If this were really the case though, some kind of disagreement had brewed between the Watsons, interrupting idyllic sentiment leftover from honeymoon bliss. The baseness of sex could very well have that effect on a standard English gentleman and lady.  

Watson’s eyes had been upon him for some time, he could tell. He met his friend’s gaze head-on, finding concern and something else indescribable mingled in between. Upon reflection, he should make a study of Watson’s eyes, if nothing else than for his private records.

“You haven’t spoken in two hours,” Watson remarked casually.

Holmes blinked rapidly, readjusting to the settings. Seated in his chair, tea gone cold. Disposed of his waistcoat, Watson slouched in what was once his designated chair, brown suspenders rolling off his shoulders slowly but surely, his top button undone. Thoroughly distracting. Holmes sniffed the air.

“Have you been smoking?” He inquired, recognizing the scent as that of a Cuban cigar circa 1889, approximately.

“Yes, I thought it might make you more alert. I fear it may have made you fall deeper into that stupor of yours you just came out of,” Watson admitted as his fingers idly tapped against the cigar resting in the ashtray on the table. “What has addled your brain so?”

“Watson, you know my methods. My periods of introspection provide clarity to my work. My thoughts are in perfect working order.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed back. After straightening his braces, Watson began to loop his arms through his coat previously draped across the back of his chair. “Perhaps I should leave you to your thoughts, in that case.”

“Back home again?” Holmes mused.

Watson, as ever, corrected him. “To Mary.”

Perhaps the lovers’ quarrel was not as serious as he supposed at all. Nonetheless, he felt he had to offer: “My door is always open.”

An affirming smile answered him with a quality of sadness to it, the only thing preceding Watson’s familiar tread on Baker Street.

Another week was to be endured before Watson’s presence graced him once again. In this particular instance, Watson seemed more at ease. He suggested to Holmes that they go for a stroll in the city. Watson always liked it when Holmes would make and share observations of passersbys, one of their favourite activities to engage in from the earliest point in their friendship. If Holmes himself was in worse spirits he would have refused such a triviality, but knowing it might help his friend, he acquiesced cordially to the offer, fortunate enough to still spend time with the man as he was.

There was nothing out of the ordinary at first. An oversized clerk bumbled down Manchester Street obviously having taken too late a lunch break; an older American couple conversed loudly about the spectacles and filth of London to distract from the all too personal topic of the wife’s dying father; a paperboy shouted the newest headlines, limping as he did so due to a factory accident which likely cracked most of the bones in his left foot that never healed properly. Watson smiled along to most of these descriptions but frowned at the last, almost bent on offering his services to the boy, but by Holmes’ observations the accident had occurred years ago and no doctor’s attention would help him now.

At last, they reached Hyde Park, a perfect spot for observation of both animals and nature alike. As it was a Sunday, many families were out and about, relieved to send their children to attend to their own amusements. Their shrill cries and laughter was certainly no symphony to Holmes, but Watson appeared slightly perturbed, glancing at his fob-watch for the time and requesting that perhaps they roam somewhere else. Holmes himself was growing tired of this charade his friend was putting on and scoffed loudly.

“Really, you could just tell me that you prefer the company of your wife to my own, and we’d be done with it,” he ground out, kicking his one boot against the pavement as he did so.

“What?” Watson had the audacity to appear flummoxed. His attempts at treating Holmes with decency were driving the detective mad.

“I know you’re inventing excuses to be around me now that you’re married and yet still feel obligated to maintain our partner—pardon me, friendship,” explained Holmes, in a manner not unlike when he told Lestrade off for one of his idiotic theories. “But you’re bored because there are no cases for me to amuse you with, so you’re regretting the whole outing. I’d prefer that you just be honest with me instead of relying on me to deduce it for the both of us.”

He refused to look Watson in the eye after his statement and proceeded down the footpath without his friend in tow. It thus surprised him as he was about to turn out of the park when running footfalls made their distinct approach. Watson’s all too familiar ragged breaths were there behind Holmes, on his neck, and then he was being spun around by his shoulders, Watson having a firm grip on both his arms and a dazzling intensity in his gaze.

“For once Holmes you have no idea what you’re driving at, but my problems with Mary actually have nothing to do with you this time. I can’t explain. It wouldn’t be right to you or Mary—”

“Sirs!” The voice of a young lady, no older than in her twenties with a crying babe in her arms. “Please, if you’ve anything to spare good sirs, my child’s life be saved. You’re honorable gentlemen, fathers? Think of the poor children, gentlemen.”

Damn her timing, just as he was getting something out of Watson. Though much as Watson’s readers of The Strand might have insisted otherwise, he was not heartless.

“3 shillings, madam,” he said as he withdrew the change from his pocket into her grateful outstretched hand, pins and pricks visible on her fingertips. A factory seamstress then, paid a pittance for her work.

She issued great thanks, politely scurrying away in the opposite direction from whence they came. He likely would have mused more on her upbringing, physicality and motivations too, had Watson not suddenly fallen out of consciousness into his arms, helpless as a babe.

[wildeheathen-blog]

Grave Robbing - Chapter One

Warnings: None for this particular chapter. Perhaps brief mentions of having a gun in ones face?

Summary: Reader gets in over her head when taking a midnight drive for ice cream.

Pairing: Sam | Plus Sized Reader

Word Count: 2,741

Chapter: 1/??

“Call 1-800-SLI-MNOW to try a thirty-day free trial of EVER SLIM Tea!” 

“Ugh…” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the remote from your bedside table and hit the power button, the screen fading to black and the babbling of the infomercial going silent. Late-night television was always a mixed bag of bad soft-core porn, diet ads and infomercials for erectile dysfunction. You had been watching reruns of Law and Order SVU but after those had ended you’d gone down a rabbit hole of bad TV. It was nearly eleven pm now and most of the ‘day time’ television channels had been replaced with order-by-phone ads. You were surprised they were still around, honestly. On a night like tonight, when even the TV was reminding you of how ‘big’ you were, you had decided that enough was enough. You were either going to commit a crime or pig out on ice cream and it didn’t take long for you to decide which.

Rolling off of your bed, you hiked the penguin printed leggings you wore up over your hips with a shimmy, huffing under your breath as a result of the action displaced one of your boobs from the too-big tank top that you wore.  “Girl just can’t win, can she?” Your words were muttered under your breath as you pulled your top off and grabbed a sports bra off of the top of your hamper of clothes that were clean -- and had been for almost a week if you were being honest with yourself. Picking the shirt you’d been wearing back up, you sniffed it and then shrugged. You’d showered that morning and it wasn’t like you’d done any strenuous exercise unless you counted running across the lawn after your cat who had wormed its way out the front door earlier that afternoon. 

“I’m just going to get ice cream, I’m not even getting out of the car.” You reassured yourself and pull the tank top back over your head, your car keys snatched off of your dresser and a quick check done in the mirror to adjust the messy bun that sat atop your head. It’d been a few days since you’d brushed your hair, but if you were being honest, the lion’s mane had a mind of its own, even with the best of discipline. “There and back. No getting out of the car. It’ll be fine!” You muttered the words once more as if to scold your anxiety into submission. You’d never liked going places on your own, especially this late at night but something had you craving ice cream from the twenty-four-hour drive through that was five miles down the road. 

Bending to give your cat a kiss on its head, you cringed as it sneezed, painting your features with saliva and cat snot. “Gee… thanks a whole lot, Gouda, I appreciate it.” 

The ten-year-old cat that was a few pounds overweight (much like yourself) simply rolled over and exposed its belly with a languid stretch. A certain trap, to be sure. Still, you took the bait and ruffled his fur, the mainecoon in him giving him enough hair that by the time you were done it looked as if he’d been electrocuted. 

“Alright, be good! Don’t be going into Olivia’s room and bothering those ferrets! You know she’s allergic to you!” You whisper-scolded your cat and gave him another pat for good measure before standing up and leaving your bedroom, a hoodie grabbed from one of the hooks on your wall on your way out. 

Making your way down the stairs of the shared townhome, your roommate (who was your exact opposite in both looks and habits) peered at you from the kitchen. She was up late meal prepping and often offered to teach you, though you would rather watch paint dry than plan any meal that involved eating kale willingly. “(Y/N)? Where are you going? It’s almost eleven-thirty. Don’t tell me you’re going to that skeevy drive through again.” Olivia’s voice was worried, and while she had always looked like she had walked out of a fitness magazine she never once judged you for your habits or your appearance. She had been your friend since middle school and while she had grown into her body, you had simply grown into your ‘baby fat’. 

“I’ll be back in like… thirty minutes tops! Promise!” You called from the entryway of the small home, your eyes scanning the various ‘live laugh love’ messages that dotted the walls. It wasn’t your idea of decor but you didn’t own the place so who were you to judge? Hearing a heavy sigh from the kitchen, you groaned and leaned against the wall. You were waiting for her to scold you about your late-night drives. Counting down in your head, you reached ‘one’ right as she appeared from the kitchen, her arms crossed over her slender chest.

“(Y/N) you’ve been going out a lot recently. I don’t really care what you do with your time as you pay all of your bills on time and keep yourself safe but it’s late out, and there was that story on the news about that girl who--”

Holding up your hand, you smiled when she paused. “Livvie, I promise, I don’t exactly fit the profile for being kidnapped. My thigh is bigger than your waist, those creeps would have a hell of a time getting me into the back of a van, especially considering my social anxiety. Puppies or candy aside, they’re not going to fool me. Besides, I’ve got my mace. Like I said, twenty minutes tops.” You knew you had won the argument when she sighed and waved a hand. 

“Fine, but if you get snatched up--”

“If I get snatched up, I promise I’ll ask the bad guys to let you know so that you can bore them to death with your top ten favorite avocado recipes, alright?” You offered her a smile when she rolled her eyes. You always had been sarcastic and now wasn’t any different. 

“Alright, alright, go, just… keep in touch if you’re going to be gone longer, alright? Cute leggings, by the way.” 

Nodding and mumbling something that sounded indicative of confirmation and ‘thanks’ combined into one word, you opened the front door and took a deep breath. Sweet freedom. You loved Olivia but you would have been lying if her health-conscious mannerisms didn’t weigh on your patience occasionally. 

Making sure the door was closed tight behind you, you jogged down the stairs and onto the cracked sidewalk that stretched out between a small, but neatly managed yard. There were garden beds to either side, raised and lush with different herbs and flowers. On either side of the chain-link gate were lawn flamingos, atop which were garden gnomes holding cats. They had been your idea and after much pestering, Olivia had relented. 

Pulling the gate shut behind you as you exited, you hit the button on the fob for your car, sighing disdainfully when the red light blipped but did nothing. The damn thing had been broken for years and yet every time you left the house you still tried to make magic happen. Manually unlocking the door to the 2001 banana yellow Toyota Celica you pulled open the door and dropped into the front seat. Fall was just around the corner and it had the nights a little frostier than usual, which meant when your ass hit the seat, you hissed and shivered.

“Dammit, Larry…” The name slipped between your teeth and you grinned, remembering where the nickname had come from. Your ex had called the car hideous and had abhorred the fact that you had named it. After your breakup, you’d gotten a custom license plate that said L30N4RD so that every time he saw you in town he’d be forced to remember you. It was spiteful, sure, but he’d cheated on you with your ex-best friend and you’d walked in on it; karma was a bitch though, and he’d ended up getting an STI from the girl he’d done the dirty with. 

Shoving the key into the ignition, you said a silent prayer and hit the gas as you started the car, a sigh of relief as the engine sputtered to life. “Thank you, Larry, for once you do something right the first time.” Backing out of the driveway you were careful to avoid Olivia’s Prius, the yellow headlights from your car basking the quiet suburban street in a dim glow. 

***

Ten minutes later you and Larry were putting down the road, the drive-through was at the other end of the small town you had lived in for the past five years and it was the only thing open this late. While the town was quiet, it was boring and it had made ‘McKreevey’s Drive-Thru” the only place worth going. Tapping your fingers on the steering wheel, you tried to ignore the way Larry clanked and whirred as you drove. A few more miles and you would be there and ordering your favorite sundae -- you just had to drive passed Saint Christian’s Cemetery in and you’d be home free. Ever since you had lived there the place had given you the creeps and tonight was no different. 

Turning up the radio as you drove by, you hummed and bopped your head, doing your best to ignore the way the street lights had disappeared, leaving you in the dark save for the soft glow of your car’s headlights. Another clank, followed by a shattering pop and finally a whir as your car sputtered to a stop and died on the side of the road. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me right now…” 

Your voice was a quiet murmur as you looked out of the windshield to see smoke rising from beneath Larry’s hood, a groan leaving your throat. “Great, this is fucking perfect. I just wanted some god damned ice cream. Pulling out your phone, you squinted as the screen lit up and then rolled your eyes as the single bar of service flipped over to roaming. 

“Really? Goddess above I hate this fucking city.” 

Pushing open the door, you shoved the seatbelt away from you and slid of your car, the flashlight on your phone illuminating the ground at your feet and showing off a thick, sticky puddle of fluid that trickled out from under Larry’s beat and battered frame. 

“I have no idea what that is Leonard, but you should be ashamed of yourself! That is disgusting!” You scolded your car as if it might suddenly become sentient and realize the mess it left you in. Instead, you were left to look around for any sign of life. On the right, there were fields upon fields of corn that swayed in the breeze. To the left, the cemetery. 

“Great. I feel like I’m in a horror movie. I’ll bet I’m about to get murdered by some hobgoblin hiding in that damned corn. Walking around the front of your car, you quickly decided on the graveyard with the reasoning that you might be able to find a live-in groundskeeper or something to at least let you borrow a phone for a cab. Using the flashlight on your phone to light the way, you stopped halfway across the sprawling plot when an orange glow of light caught your distance. 

“Oh! Maybe there is someone. Digging a grave I’ll bet. Jeez, what a shitty job. Shittier for the person going in it, I suppose.” You snorted as you caught yourself talking to yourself. It happened frequently and most of the time it was someone else that caught you, the look on their faces often worth the awkward silence. Creeping slowly closer, you were maybe ten yards away when a figure jumped out of one of the graves, his toned frame tossing a shove to the ground. 

“Figure they’d at least use a backhoe or somethin’.” You whispered under your breath and leaned against the tree. Maybe it was best to wait until they were done, as they seemed to almost be. Squinting and killing the flashlight on your phone, you watched as a second figure stepped out of the shadows, a canister of something in his hand. 

“What the…?” 

Watching as the taller figure poured something into the hole followed by the smaller one (the one who had jumped out of the hole in the first place) squirting some sort of liquid, you watched as one of them struck a match and dropped it into the grave. 

“Okay what the-- OH MY GOD!” 

Your voice rose three octaves as a plume of fire shot from the hole in the ground, followed by what could only be described as a wraith from some b-horror movie that screeched louder than any cheerleader at a pep rally who’d just seen her friends ever could, it’s spectral body engulfed in flames before disappearing into the night sky. 

“Whatthefuck?! Oh god, what the fuck… shit… fuckity shit!” 

At this point, you had forgotten all about the people by the grave and had instead focused on what had just come out of the grave. 

***

“Well, at least that’s done. It’s nice to have something nice and easy for once. Can we get out of here now? It’s cold.” Sam shivered and rubbed his hands over his bare arms. He hadn’t thought to bring a jacket. Beside him, Dean shoved the lighter fluid and salt back into the duffel bag, picking it up and slinging it over his shoulder a few moments later. 

“Sammy you’re the size of a literal moose and you’re bitching because it’s cold out? Bring a jacket next-- wait, shhh.” Dean lifted a hand to his mouth when something in the distance cracked, followed by a high pitched wheezing. Looking to his brother, who shrugged, Dean pulled his gun out and stalked forward, having passed the duffel off to Sam who followed close behind. 

***

Wheezing quietly, you cursed the fact that you’d decided to get ice cream. All you wanted was something sweet and now here you were, stuck in a creepy ass cemetery with grave robbers that had just lit a corpse on fire for the fun of it! You weren’t sure what had come out of the grave afterward but you were willing to convince yourself that you were seeing things for the sake of your sanity. 

“Oh cheese on a tortilla, Gods of the gobstoppers and Nephilim of nerds ropes I swear I will never leave the house again if-- click”

Freezing solid when a very familiar sound clicked behind your ear, you slowly stood from behind the three you’d hidden behind and turned; only to come face to face with the muzzle of a handgun held by a man that looked about as happy as a hare in a field of copperheads. Swallowing thickly, you screamed as loud as you could -- a technique taught to you by Olivia. When the scream did nothing but make the male furrowed his brow deeper, you struck out with your chuck covered foot and nailed him between his legs, a fist following shortly after to meet his face with a crunch. 

“Hey Woah! Woah, miss!” The taller male behind the gun-toting one lifted his hands in mock defense as the first crumpled to the ground with a groan and a barely audible ‘sonofabitch’ that was choked from between gritted teeth. Lifting both of your hands, you prepared yourself to try and take on the colossus that had come up behind the smaller one, your (Y/E/C) eyes darting to and fro and your heart slamming against your chest. 

“I’ll kick your dick all the way to Fort Worth you creep sonuvabitch! Don’t try me! I’ll… I’ll do it… you burnt a thing and… I…. I think I’m gonna--” 

Your fear and anxiety got the best of you a moment later and you collapsed to the ground with a dull thud, your body having looked none too graceful in your penguin pants and messy bun (now complete with mud stains and leaves stuck into it, respectfully). You had seen plenty of crime shows, but never once had you seen anything about grave robbing, screaming corpses, or being an accomplice to a heinous crime. And to think, all you had wanted was some god damned ice cream.

[virtuallytakenby]

Even numbers (you don't have to answer all if its a struggle for you 💛)

2: Age

20. My birthday’s September 11 (I KNOW!) 

4: 3 things I love

Books, food, my computer (it has everything I need) 

6: 4 turns off

Smoker/people who take drugs/alcoholics (I don’t mind people who drink within limits. I can’t handle alcoholics.)

8: Sexual orientation

Bisexual

10: How tall am I?

5 ft 3 in. Short, I know! 

12: What time was I born

No idea. Somewhere in the morning. 

14: Do I have a crush

Not right now. 

16: Favourite place

My room. Or a bookstore. Or a library. In uni, I love the co-working space. 

18: Do I use sarcasm

A lot! 

20: First thing I notice in a new person

Their mouth, if they’re talking. Otherise, the hair or face in general. 

22: Eye color

Dark brown. 

24: Favourite style of clothing

Casual usually. 

28: Favourite movie

Lilo and Stitch. Taare Zaamen Par (Bollywood)

30: Favourite band

FOB, Skillet, Backstreet Boys, The Fray, etc. 

32: Someone I love

My parents, sister, friends. 

34: My relationship with my parents

It’s good, but we fight a lot. Mum and I don’t see eye to eye often but we love each other. 

36: Tattoos and piercing I have

No tattoos, but 6 ear piercings. 

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

I wanted to be a part of choices fandom here. My friends don’t play so I can’t talk about it. 

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?

I get goodnight texts from my best friend. 

42: When did I last hold hands?

Yesterday? I held my sister’s hand when we were crossing the street so she doesn’t get lost. 

44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?

Nope. 

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?

My friends. I’ve only been drunk once just to experience it. I don’t like alcohol. 

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?

I do. I was in boarding school throughout high school so my parents wanted me to be home for college years. 

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

No. 

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

Today. I hug my parents daily. We’re affectionate. I never leave things on bad terms with them. I’m scared of losing them. 

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

I don’t trust people in general anyway. 

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

Zayn. Or maybe an agent who’d sign me cause I wanna act. 

58: What’s my strangest talent?

No clue. 

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

Behind. But front as well, you know, since I want to be an actress. 

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

Phone. Or just chatting. I’m not a fan of video calls. I can’t multitask. 

64: Do I believe in magic?

Nope. 

66: What’s the weather like right now?

Hot. I need a little cold. 

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?

Nope.

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?

I slipped and hit my head on a marble floor. I got 7 stitches. 

72: Can I touch my nose with a tongue?

Nah. 

74: Favourite animal?

Cats. Dogs. Otters. 

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name?

Probably shares the same last name as me LOL. 

78: How can you win my heart?

Be genuine, kind, passionate. Take interest in me even if I’m boring af. 

80: What is my favorite word?

‘Choices’ was my favorite word long before I discovered choices, funnily enough. 

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

Have some humanity. 

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

Super speed. 

86: What is my current desktop picture?

Mountains? Standard MacBook background pic. 

88: Bought condoms?

Nope. 

90: Failed a class?

Nope. I’ve failed one test in my life in 11th grade. But I didn’t fail in the finals. 

92: Kissed a girl?

In choices, yes. Irl, not yet. 

94: Had a job?

I do online freelancing for beta reading. 

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

Never. 

98: Played on a sports team?

I used to play for my school’s basketball team. I was asked by the coach to play soccer as well but I declined. 

100: Did drugs?

No way. 

102: Drank alcohol?

Yes. I got drunk last new year’s eve and never touched alcohol since. 

104: Been overweight?

Yes. 

106: Been to a wedding?

Yes. 

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

Yes

110: Gotten my heart broken?

My ex broke my heart while we were together. So I broke up with him. 

112: Broken a bone?

Nope, thankfully. I’ve sprained my ankle several times. 

114: Been to prom?

Never.

116: Fly by helicopter?

Never. 

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?

Yes. An exchange student. She left and I never told her. 

120: Wore make up?

Yes. 

122: Had oral sex?

Nope. 

124: Voted in a presidential election?

Nope.  

126: Had surgery?

Nope. 

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

Kinda? 

130: Been fishing?

Nope. 

132: Been rejected by a crush?

Yes. In elementary school. The second time I confessed a crush to someone (new person) high school, it was my new best friend and he became my boyfriend.  

134: What do I want for birthday?

Book vouchers. Money. 

136: Was I named after anyone?

Nope. 

138: What was my favorite toy as a child?

Mermaid Barbie doll 

140: Where do I want to live when older?

I don’t know. Wherever my career is. 

142: One of my scars, how did I get it?

I burned myself accidentally when I was a kid. I went near the gas when my mom was cooking and got burned. It’s on my forearm. 

144: Am I afraid of the dark?

I’m not. 

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

Nope. 

148: What I’m really bad at

Talking with people. I’m awkward. I never know how to respond to them. 

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

Your dreams are just that. Dreams. 

152: What do I like about myself

I like that I’m open to learning new things. 

154: Something I fantasize about

Being super successful so my parents can rest and live happily and comfortably. 

@dailydoseofchoices here’s the one you sent the first time haha. I thought I deleted it accidentally. 

[darlingpetao3]

Rewrite the Stars (Harry Wells x Reader, Chapter 10 - Pretty Woman AU)

Rating: Mature

Summary: While on a business trip, Harrison “Harry” Wells has a chance meeting with the Reader on the streets of Star City. Both from two very different worlds, these two spend the week together under the form of a ‘business proposition,’ only to discover that their feelings are more than strictly professional. Based on the 1990 film Pretty Woman.

Warnings: Topic of Sex-Work, Sexual Content, Unwanted Physical Advances, Coarse Language, and Major Feels

Tag list: @thecaptainsgingersnap  @seabasstiantrash  @cavanaghcollins @obsessedadryana @technicallykawaiisoul @ill-breach-you-there-right-now  @drwellwellwells

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6 Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9

A/N: The song for this chapter is The Way You Look Tonight and can be found on our playlist here.

Ready for the most romantic date on earth??

~Him~

“Jack, I can’t talk right now,” I said hurriedly into the phone. “I’m leaving soon for my date. I can’t-”

“Date? Since when do you have a date, Harrison? That’s not like you! Is it with the hooker?”

“I’d be careful if I were you, Jack.”

“What? I’m just saying, no matter how bad the date goes, at least you’ll have a happy ending if you know what I mean-”

I hung up on the bastard, trying not to let my temper get the better of me. There was no way in hell I was going to let anyone or anything ruin tonight with (Y/N). It had to be perfect. She deserved perfect.

I was stood out in the main room of the penthouse, waiting for her to come out from behind the closed doors of the bedroom. I felt nervous, which was incredibly unlike me, and I took to pacing a small section of the room and fiddling with my white shirt collar every so often.

I checked my watch and knew that we would have to leave in fifteen minutes if we were going to make it on time, information which I shared with (Y/N).

“Good things come to those who wait,” she shouted back. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay,” I replied, but I went back to pacing anyway if just to occupy myself and keep my nerves at bay.

A few minutes later, (Y/N) emerged finally from the bedroom in the most sublime red dress that could probably make the world stand still.

Though mine already had.

“Pick up your jaw, hot stuff,” she said cheekily. “And my eyes are up here.”

“You look…” I couldn’t even finish my sentence.

She smiled, taking a few steps further towards me before kissing my cheek. She was the definition of beauty and sophistication. It took me a second to remember I had something for her. I grabbed the box on the desk behind me and held it in front of her.

“Now, this is only a loan, but I thought you might like to wear this for tonight,” I said, and opened the lid, presenting her with a glittering diamond and ruby necklace. (Y/N)’s eyes widened in amazement.

“I get to wear that?” she said, apprehensive to touch the jewelry piece.

“If you let me do the honours?” I removed the item with care from the box and stood behind her to place it around her neck. She looked in the mirror at it, her smile brighter than the necklace itself.

“Harrison… how did you- how much is this thing worth?”

“Quarter of a million.”

“Whaa-? Are you pulling my leg?” Her eyes had gone wide, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

We made our way down to the lobby side by side, all the while passing hotel guests and staff whose heads turned as we walked by them. Although, this time, they were undeniably looking at (Y/N). But not with judgement.

I led her outside where I had a ride arranged to take us to the airfield. Where we were going wasn’t in Star City.

Once we were comfortably seated in the back of the car, (Y/N) excitedly turned to me.

“So, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” I said, trying not to smile at the way she looked so desperate to know. She practically bounced the whole way to our destination and tried to pry a few clues from me, but I remained tight-lipped.

I helped her step out of the limousine and onto the tarmac upon arrival. Her eyebrows shot up at that sight of my jet sitting there waiting for us. (Y/N) turned to me. “Harry, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to impress me.”

I grinned. “What gave you that impression?”

She shook her head at me and took my arm as I led her to our personal transportation to Central City for the evening.

~

“The Ballet?”

“Do you like it?” I asked as (Y/N) looked at the programme for Swan Lake I’d handed to her.

“I’ve always wanted to go…” she said, nodding. Believe it or not, I wasn’t aware of this fact. I only saw the event as a perfect opportunity for a night out.

I almost fell as I accompanied her up the velvety red stairs to our seats. It didn’t matter that (Y/N) wore the most expensive clothing and diamonds here. I sincerely believed she was more beautiful - inside and out - than anyone else in this room. I only had eyes for her.

We walked out onto the balcony to find our seats, and I turned to see if (Y/N) was alright but noticed she had stopped in her tracks. Her eyes studied the auditorium - the stage, the golden lights, the many people below us finding their seats.

“Are you coming, (Y/N)?”

“Yeah.”

I knew that if this was her reaction to the venue alone, I couldn’t imagine how blown away she’d look during the performance. All I knew was that I wouldn’t be able to keep my eyes off her once the show started.

We reached our seats and (Y/N) folded her hands in her lap, looking down at the stage with a look of awe. I placed my hand over hers which at once drew her attention to me, and she laced our fingers together. I smiled softly as I rubbed little circles on her skin.

The lights went out a few minutes later and the show began. The dancing was flawless and captivating, but as I’d predicted, I found (Y/N)’s reactions to be even more so.

She became especially enchanted with the dances of the Prima Ballerina and her two roles during the third act and at the tragic end of the ballet, she squeezed my hand tightly, and I watched her brush away some tears with the side of her hand.

When the dancers came out to take their bows, she was one of the first people on their feet, clapping with such enthusiasm that I knew I didn’t have to ask whether she’d enjoyed it.

Retaking her hand, I led her out of the theatre, but she was gushing the whole way down to the car.

“Did you see how elegant they were, Harry? And being up on their toes like that, doesn’t it hurt? It’s incredible.”

“It really is,” I replied, helping her down the stairs so that she didn’t trip on her dress.

One older lady seemed to overhear her wonder-filled comments and asked whether she’d enjoyed the show, and (Y/N) replied with how thrilled she was to have seen it. She turned to me when the lady had moved on, and I could see on her face at how delighted she was not to be on the end of someone’s judgement like she had been this week. She could just talk about something she loved.

I led her outside into the still bustling street, even though it was relatively late.

“Where are we going now, Harry?” she asked as I opened the door for her.

“Somewhere special.”

We drove a little further away from the centre of the city before getting out again. (Y/N) looked a little confused for a moment, but then I gestured above to the circular building containing my life’s (and future) work. “(Y/N)... welcome to S.T.A.R. Labs.”

She studied every section of the Labs as we passed through the glass doors, marvelling at our displays in the lobby, and the history along the walls. I wanted to show her every little thing, but there was one place in particular I needed her to see.

We took the elevator up a few floors and I guided her in the direction of our journey’s end. The finale, if you will.

Unlocking the door in front of me with my retina scan, I took her hand and led her into the pitch black room. I felt her hand grip mine tighter.

“It’s okay,” I said softly. “Give it a second.”

I clicked a button on the fob in my pocket creating the first few twinkles appearing above us, followed by a few more, quickly growing in number until the entire room simulated a starry night. I heard her take in a breath.

“This is… It’s… I’m-”

For the first time since I’d known (Y/N), she was the one at a loss for words.

I clicked a different button on the fob and music began to play over the speaker system. I held out my hand. “Care to dance?”

I’d chosen the song before I’d seen her dressed up tonight, but now, the words to The Way You Look Tonight mirrored what I was feeling when I looked at her. She was bewitching, but I couldn’t put it into words myself.

She laughed softly, still smiling in wonder, but didn’t hesitate in taking my hand, and I brought her close to me. I placed my hand on the small of her back as hers went around me to hold my shoulder from behind. She rested her chin on my shoulder and leaned her head against mine softly, and we began to sway in the middle of the constellations shining around us.

Indeed the centre of our own little universe.

We stayed in each other’s hold for a minute, moving in time to the music, until I slid my hand to her waist and encouraged her to spin out and then back into my arms, just to watch her giggle. I did it again, but this time when she turned back, our faces ended up an inch apart from each other. Looking into my eyes, she blinked a few times, as though she was considering closing the gap, but then dipped her head and just rested herself against my chest again. She wound her arms around my middle and tucked her head under my chin.

I breathed in the scent of her hair in my inaudible sigh, and just wrapped my arms around her as the song came to an end. But (Y/N) didn’t move from where she was hugging me, so I didn’t either. Instead, I continued to sway on the spot, turning in a small circle so that she could see all of the stars around us.

“Tell me about them,” she said quietly, the noise muffled by my shirt, and truthfully I almost missed it.

“Hmm?”

“The stars. Tell me about them,” she repeated, pulling back a little to look at me again. I just smiled and nodded, taking her hand before helping her down to the floor with me, as gracefully as I could.

We lay down on our backs, fingers joined between us, gazing up at the domed ceiling and I started to talk about the constellations. I pointed them out to her, told her about the stories behind them and answered her questions, some of them genuinely surprising me at times.

“Not one of them is the same, is it?” she asked, looking over at me.

“No, they’re all unique,” I told her, meeting her eyes and giving her hand a soft squeeze.

I didn’t know how long we laid there, but I knew I could stay there with her forever. This evening had gone better than I ever could have hoped for.

And I also knew that I couldn’t hope to suppress my feelings for her anymore. I’d known she’d unlocked something the night we’d met, but now, as cliche as it sounded, I was willing to give her the key to my heart. I wanted to know what else she could make me feel just by spending time in her company.

She was making me a better man.

We could just make out a clock chiming eleven outside and decided that it was time to leave, however much neither of us wanted to. But we did need to get back to Star City after all.

I was afraid I would fall asleep on the way back to the hotel. I’d spent every minute of today planning and organizing this night for (Y/N) to go off without a hitch. I blinked my eyes to keep myself awake, but mostly for the sole purpose of revelling in her holding onto me in the back of the car as we left the airfield and made our way back towards uptown Star City.

I rested my cheek on the top of her head and brought our joined hands up to kiss the back of hers.

I had to tell her.

[lgbtfairytailnet]

Rogue x Gray Headcanons for Anonymous:

The whole reason the two ended up talking was because Gray initially thought the dark markings on him were from some sort of curse like the shadow that controlled Future!Rogue and Rogue agreed to train him and help him out. 

The two began training together and made it a point to save Frosch when they heard the warning. 

Little Fro gets really attached to Gray and it makes Rogue jealous though he won't admit it.

The two had initially had their little meetings in secrecy, scared their guilds would kick them out if they found out Rogue was helping Gray, but once it did get out, Sting made it clear that as long as he meant no harm, Gray was always welcome at Sabertooth. 

Gray sends Rogue little ice sculptures of the Saber guild mark and Frosch. Rogue sends him letters in return because he isn't sure what else to do. 

Neither of them is good at expressing their feelings so they rarely say I love you, instead it's expressed with smaller words like a quick call at night just to check in.

Gray starts going out at night and staring at the skies, the darkness reminding him of the dragon slayer, in return Rogue suddenly develops a taste for shaved ice, while Gray starts liking black licorice and black coffee because as he quotes "they're both dark and bitter like Rogue, but I like him better that way" 

Sting and Natsu are the first to notice something's going on when Natsu check's Gray's Lacrima and realizes he's been getting calls from Sabertooth, Sting noting that Rogue, his closest guild member, isn't spending as much time with him as usual. 

Rogue and Gray both swear they're only training, that's all. 

Thank you to @wyntersmusearsenal​ for providing the above!! They’re not a member of the group, but they ship the pair too much not to be tag-teamed in :) 

Gray starts to go round more because he likes Frosch so much, buys the Exceed treats and toys until Frosch is always asking when he’s coming back

Rogue is jealous, at first, but Frosch is his lil friend and he does not want to share that bond with anyone, but Frosch is so happy and Gray is... cute, in a way. That was when things started to happen for Rogue. Bless.

They get together after Sting describes them as “Frosch’s dads”. He knows how they both feel (it’s obvious), but this was the catalyst they needed to talk about their feelings.

However, talking about feelings is something that they are very Not Good at, so it’s kind of clumsy and awkward.

It works, though.

But Sting is right, they are Frosch’s dads, and they go out together to buy the Exceed clothes and toys and they argue about it. The attendant comes over and coos at them, saying, “Aww, are you first time dads?” They look at her, confused, before deadpanning, “This is for our cat.”

Emo gay messes tbh.

Probably send each other mix-tapes with MCR and FOB on as a sign of affection. 

They kiss each other’s scars a lot, fond of the strength and the resilience and the affection there, and it’s just soft, what they both need.

Night time can be hard for Gray, because he still has nightmares about Deliora, but the shadows scare him less when they remind him of the man he loves, and it’s healing. 

They are both terrified of the darkness, though. Rogue is scared that he will become like Future Rogue and Gray is scared that he will be the one to cause it, as the prophecy foretold.

Still, they have an extremely open and trusting relationship. It isn’t the most affectionate, but it’s deeply intimate, and it works for them.

- Mod Mollie 

[picturetoburnnn]

New Momma? | Michael Clifford x Reader

Pairing - m.c. x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning - mentions of death

A/N - Tbh I love this so much, itts probably my favorite so far that ive written and i just love dadsos so much okay

“Daddy, daddy! I want this one!” The five year old jumped up and down, pointing to the sparkliest doll on the shelf.

“Really, princess? Don’t you have one just like it?” He held the box in his hands, deciding yes, she has one nearly identical to this at home, I just know it.

“She wants a twin,” the little girl squealed, raising her hands in an exaggerated shrug.

“Bells, if this is the one you get, I’m not going to come back and return it when you don’t wanna play with it anymore,” he warned, knowing full well he’d give in to her wishes, if that's what she really wanted.

“Yes, yes, yes, this is the one I want! Thank you daddy!” She hugged Michael’s legs, squishing her cheek against the denim before jumping up and down again.

“You’re welcome baby,” he set the box in the cart, making sure he had everything on his list before heading to the iconic red Target checkout lane. As he placed his items on the conveyor, he heard his daughter speak up.

“Do you think Miss Y/N will play with me when we get home?”

He quirked a smile at her, mussing her hair playfully. “Silly Bella, of course she will. She loves playing with you.”

The girl beamed up at her father, her grin a mirror image of his.

In the parking lot, Bella strayed a few steps away from the cart, causing a small panic to rise in Michael. “Bells, what’s the rule?” He reminded as gently as he could.

“Hand on the cart,” she said almost dejectedly, reaching her hand over to grasp the buggy.

“Thank you, honey. Wanna pop the trunk?”

She perked up immediately. “Yes, please!” Making grabby hands at the key fob in Michael’s she squeaked in delight when it was handed to her. She pressed the button as they got closer, and smiled at the satisfying “thump” of the latch releasing.

After quickly storing the bags in the trunk, replacing the cart, and safely bucking his daughter in the backseat, they finally started back home. The music playing through the car radio was the only sound, which was very unusual. Normally, Bella would be recounting every fairytale and daydream she’s had throughout the day when she’s in the car.

Picking up on the change, Michael asked “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Daddy, why don't I have a mommy?”

The question stunned him into silence. What could he say? How was he supposed to tell his baby girl, the light of his life, that her mother was gone? That she couldn't come back?

“Your momma got sick baby. The kind of sick that medicine can’t help. But she loved you baby, she loved you so much.”

God, there were tears filling his eyes now. “She… your mother was the sweetest woman I ever knew. She was so loving, and kind.”

“Is she in heaven? I heard Lily down the street saying her nana went to heaven.”

“If there’s a heaven baby, there is not a doubt in my mind, she is there.”

He saw her nod in the rear view mirror.

“Hey,” he called softly. “Don’t let this ruin your mood for the whole day, okay? We can still have a good time, right?”

“Yeah,” she confirmed.

The ride was silent, but a comfortable silence, all the way to the driveway.

“Wanna help daddy carry bags in?”

“Yes,” she nodded, smiling.

From lifting bags from the trunk to setting them down on the kitchen counter, Bella had a slight cloud above her head. Michael nudged her arm slightly.

“Y/N's not here yet,” Bella noted with a frown.

“She will be this evening, though,” Michael told her. Her demeanor shifted immediately.

“Really?” Her eyes lit up. He nodded.

“Is she gonna be my new momma?”

Michael flat out dropped the box of crackers he was holding. “I'm sorry?”

“I wouldn't mind her being my mom. She's nice. Brings me candy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Michael couldn't help the smile growing on his face. “I wouldn't mind it either, Bells. I kinda want that too.”

Bella faked a gasp. “Daddy has a crush?”

Michael rolled his eyes, playfully nudging the five year old. “Alright there missy, first of all, it's more than a crush, and you know it. If you're a child of mine, you just use proper insults. Secondly, don't pretend for a second that you don't love her too.”

“Well, duh. I never said that.”

The father rolled his eyes, quirking a brow. “You're sassy tonight, what's up with that? I might have to do something to fix that,” he chuckled, holding his fingers out towards her. She knew what this meant.

“No! No tickles!” She giggled as she ran away from her dad on her tiny legs, not near fast enough to outrun him. He swung her up in his arms, running his fingers up and down her sides, reveling in the squeaks and laughter emitting from his daughter.

“What,” came a new voice, “is going on here?”

“Daddy's the tickle monster,” screamed Bella in between bursts of laughter.

“Is that so?” Y/N's hands rested on her hips, lips pursed. “What have I said about tickle fights?”

Michael stopped immediately, feigning innocence.

“Never without me!” The woman shrieked out before starting to tickle the girl as well. Poor Bella now had both the adults in her life tickling her, pinning her down on the couch.

“Stop it, stop it!” she managed out, and slowly the pair withdrew, and turned to look at each other.

“Hello, love, how was your day?” Y/N smiled sweetly, caressing his cheek as she asked.

“Alright. Ran to the store after picking Bella up from Uncle Ash and Aunt Britt's. They said she was good, but might not eat dinner, he fed her so much.”

“No dinner?” Y/N asked, turning her head to the kid on the couch, who had finally caught her breath. “But I was gonna make your favorite!”

Bella gasped, eyes sparking. “Spaghetti and meatballs?”

Y/N nodded. “But if you're too full from Uncle Ash, I guess just Dad and I will eat it.” She shrugged.

“No, no, no, no! I'm so hungry right now, I could eat a whole bowl all by myself!”

Y/N laughed, meeting Michael's eyes once more. “Let me go get change out of my work clothes and I'll start on dinner, ‘kay?”

He nodded. “One condition, though. I didn't get a kiss when you walked in. I feel cheated so I ask for two now.”

She snickered but conceded, pressing her lips to his in a quick kiss. “I gotta change,” she claimed when he tried to steal a third. He fake pouted as she climbed the steps.

Bella gave him a knowing look, but he just told her “Go change into something you don't mind getting pasta sauce on.” She scurried upstairs as well, and he wasn't far behind.

Knocking lightly on their shared bedroom door, Michael entered slowly. His eyes were immediately drawn to Y/N, who was changing in the process of deciding which of Michael's shirts to steal for the evening.

“You didn't let me ask how your day was.”

“Sorry, babe. Go ahead.” She pulled a shirt over her head.

“How was your day?”

“Wasn't great. Eric apparently decided not to tell me the presentation wasn't ready for tomorrow, so I had to add that to my list for today. Garrett called in sick, so my banter buddy was gone. Britt texted me pictures of Bella and Ash together though, so that was sweet.”

Michael smirked. “She asked me the strangest thing today,” he began. “She-”

He was cut off by a yell from down the hall. “Ready for red sauce!”

Y/N giggled. “Tell me after we put her to bed.” He nodded in response.

One delicious dinner, shower, pajama change, and teeth brushing later, it was 7:30, also known as bedtime for a certain little girl in your household.

“Alright sweetie, I'll come tuck you in, just give me one second to finish this up.” A wave of inspiration had struck him, and he wanted to get just a couple lines out as best he could.

“No, it's okay. Can Y/N do it?”

“Sure pumpkin,” she responded before Michael could. “C'mon lets get you to bed.” Ushering the child up the stairs, you winked at Michael over your shoulder, to which he responded with a smirk before turning back to his notebook.

Y/N faced the small shelf of books in the girl's bedroom. “What story tonight, Bells?”

“No story,” she says, quite decisively.

“No?” The woman raised an eyebrow. “You always have a story though.”

“Yeah, but that's daddy's thing. I don't wanna do it without him. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, baby, anything,” she assured.

“Are you gonna be my mommy?”

Y/N's face turned red. “Uhm, that's something your dad and I haven't talked about.”

“I did! He says he wants it a lot,” she told her, beaming.

“He and I will talk about it, Bell-Boo. You just gotta worry about getting some good sleep in you, okay?” She booped her nose, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Goodnight, Lovey. Sweet dreams,” whispered Y/N as she flipped the overhead switch, leaving only the nightlight on.

“Goodnight Y/N,” came the girl’s call back.

Y/N stood at the foot of the stairs, leaning against the wall. Bella's question rang out in her mind like a cry in the darkness.

Michael noticed the shift in her mood “What's wrong, love?”

Y/N hesitated. “You can tell me anything, baby, you know that,” he assured her.

“Bella asked if I would be her mom.”

Silence fell over the couple.

“What did you say?” Michael's voice was so quiet and cracked in the quiet of the evening.

“I told her we'd talk about it. What was I supposed to say? We've never really discussed that and, I don't know, she told me you wanted it too and--”

“She said that?” A smile snuck its way on Michael's face.

A red tint covered Y/N's features. “Yeah, she might've mentioned it.”

A deep, steadying breath, then, “Y/N, you know I love you. I know you love me too. Would it… would it be such an outrageous thought?”

“Michael--”

“I’d just need to get a ring, but ever since I met you, I’ve been happy. I wasn’t happy after… she died but you brought it back, and I knew when I saw you that she wanted me to move on and I did and fell in love again, with you, and you fell too, and you’ve basically helped me raise Bella for the past three years--”

“Michael.”

“--and she loves you too, and you love her like she’s your baby too, I can see it when you look at her, She could call you mom and I’d love it, and nothing would make me happier than if you let me call you mine for the rest of our lives. I love you like I only loved once before, and I want to marry you just as much. Please, honey, tell me I’m not crazy, tell me we can.”

“Michael, okay.”

“Of course you don-- wait what?”

“You want to get married?” He nodded. “Let’s do it. I love it, I love you, I love Bells, and I wouldn’t mind one but to be yours and for you to be mine for the rest of our lives. I know I can’t replace Crystal, I’m not trying to, I’d never dream of it, but I would love to have a chance to make half as much of an impact as she did. I’ll care for and love you both to the best of my ability. Baby, if you’re crazy for wanting to get married, then I must be positively insane because I want it too.”

“I love you, I love you so much.” He wrapped her in his embrace, right there at the foot of the steps.

“I love you too, baby. I love you,” she whispered in his ear.

“I promise I’ll get a ring,” he told her.

“I don’t need a ring.” He pulled away, opening his mouth in opposition. “I don’t. I just need you. You and Bells in my life. No fancy ring and official papers, just the two of you.”

He leaned his forehead against hers, the two of them breathing the same air, touching in such an innocent yet intimate way. “I’m still gonna get a ring for you,” he informed stubbornly.

She giggled, and the sound was like music to his ears. “If you insist,” she conceded. “Just promise me that you’ll let me love you and Bella for as long as possible, and I’ll let you get me a ring.”

“I promise baby, and I swear we’ll love you too.”

The couple sat in silence for a bit, bodies scrunched up to sit on the steps, hearts swollen in love and gratitude. Until Michael said, “So which of us is gonna go tell Bell she was right?”

The young woman groaned playfully. “She’s gonna hold this for years. ‘I knew you’d be my mom, I called it!’ I can hear her voice in my head, right now.”

“The joys of raising a child, I’m afraid.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing,” she mumbled.

“No? Then you can tell her in the morning, and I’ll deal with the relentless ‘I told you so’s.”

“Deal,” Y/N whispered, a soft smile gracing her features as she turned her face to Michael.

Michael’s expression mirrored her own as he sealed it with a quick press of his lips to hers.

“I love my little family,” he mumbled against her. And it was true. He would fight tooth and nail, to protect his girls, and he wouldn’t change it for anything.

[argyle-s]

THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME CHAPTER 36/38

Rating: Mature

Read at Ao3

Start at the Beginning

Susan Vasquez is not paid enough to put up with everything that happens in this chapter.  Guest staring Lena Luthor.

Thanks to @ifourmindbeso for her great work as a beta. Any remaining mistakes are entirely my own.

Chapter 36 -  Fallout

Lena looked up from her desk in annoyance as the door to her office opened, but the annoyance vanished as she saw Sam, replaced immediately by a smile.

“Hey,” Lena said.

“Any idea what the Secret Service detail is for?” Sam asked as she walked across the office to sit down in one of the chairs across from Lena.

“I think they’re actually US Marshalls,” Lena said. “I can’t get any kind of clear answer, other than that the President ordered the protection detail personally.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Sam said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Lena agreed. “It’s nice to see a friendly face, though.”

Sam sighed. “I kind of hate that you said that when I’m here with bad news.”

“More?” Lena asked, her eyebrows shooting up towards her hairline. “This should be thrilling.”

“Someone bought LuthorCorp out from under us,” Sam said.

“What?” Lena asked. “Who?”

“I don’t know, exactly,” Sam said. “The SEC filing for the notice of intent went through at about 11:15 AM Eastern this morning. By 11:45, Danvers International held fifty-three percent of the voting stock. I haven’t had time to do a forensic analysis of the stock transactions, but we’ve known for a while that something funny was happening with the purchase patterns. My guess is, they’ve been buying through subsidiaries and shells for months.”

“Danvers International?” Lena said. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“Neither has anyone else,” Sam said. “I looked. It was incorporated about a year ago. It has exactly one employee, who holds the position of Chairman of the Board, CEO, COO, and CFO. There are one-hundred shares of privately held stock, all owned by that same employee. Someone named Kara Danvers.”

“Who the hell is Kara Danvers?” Lena asked.

“Hell if I know,” Sam said. “The only Kara Danvers I can find is the head of the Supergirl Social Media Group at CatCo, who was Cat Grant’s assistant up until about two weeks ago.”

“Could it be the same person?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve got an investigator looking into it, and it would sort of make sense, because we’re not the only ones Danvers International is trying to buy.”

“Who else are they going after?” Lena asked.

“CatCo, Galaxy Communications, Lord Technologies, TychoTech and Queen Consolidated.”

“That’s quite a list,” Lena said.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “All vulnerable right now, all with depressed stock prices.”

“Odd mix, though,” Lena said. “Lord Technologies might be a good fit with CatCo and Galaxy. I could even see raiding LuthorCorp to get at the LexTel assets.”

“Could it be the Super connections?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” Lena said. “Though I don’t recall any connection between Queen Consolidated and Supergirl or Superman.”

“I’ll keep looking,” Sam said, “But as much as I hate to say it, I think you should look at the Tender Offer. Even with Lex’s shares, we won’t be able to hold the company.”

“I’m not ready to give up just yet,” Lena said. “See if you can get a hold of this Kara Danvers. I’d like to talk to her before I make a decision. I mean, assuming the Marshalls will let me go to National City.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Maggie walked through the police station, head held high, daring anyone to say so much as a word to her as she carried the banker’s box filled with the meager contents of her desk towards the front door. She needn’t have bothered. No one looked at her. No one wanted the taint covering Maggie Sawyer to splash on them.

Fuck every last one of them.

She’d known of course. Every police departments had corrupt cops. It’s something you hate, and you live with. Some cops, and Maggie was one of them, would drop a dime to internal affairs when they saw it. Some cops would call you a traitor for that, but Maggie had decided what kind of cop she wanted to be before she ever joined the force. Had decided when a good friend of hers had disappeared for three days, only to turn up, beaten and bruised. The cops who did it were never caught. Never faced justice. After all, who was going to believe a gay black prostitute who said a couple of cops had beaten him up?

She’d known, and she’d signed up anyway. She’d moved up fast, made detective, made it into the Science Division. She was thirty-three years old, and she was holding her own. She made good busts, did good police work. She helped where she could. Kept aliens who weren’t hurting people out of cells., kept gay kids out of trouble, and absolutely destroyed anyone who threatened either of those communities, and she HATED dirty cops with a passion.

She could never quite talk herself into making the jump to internal affairs. They’d asked three times, but the streets were Maggie’s passion. The streets were where she could help people like her. The outcasts, the misfits, the rejects. Out on the street, Maggie Sawyer was the thin blue line that stood between the vulnerable and the monsters, in and out of uniform.

And then came Kara Danvers, with her sunny smile, and her sympathetic ear, and a sister she couldn’t stop talking about. Kara Danvers who could fly, and shoot fire from her eyes, and blow the arctic wind from her lips. Kara Danvers who cared, just as much as Maggie did. Kara Danvers, who had finally introduced her to that sister, who was everything Kara had promised she would be. The sister who made Maggie’s insides melt every time she smiled. The sister who, just a few nights ago, she found tasted like peaches, and smelled like apples, and moaned just so.

Kara Danvers who was from the future. Who had lived through a vicious, horrible war, and walked away from the woman she’d loved and had chosen to die and risk having to go through it all again, just for the chance to make things better. Kara Danvers who risked everything to save the life of a woman who’d belittled her and scorned her, not because it was the smart thing to do, or the right thing to do, but because she couldn’t bear the thought of someone getting hurt because of her. Kara Danvers, who was too kind and gentle and compassionate to be someone who’d seen her world die, and spent over a decade fighting a hard, bitter war.

Maggie didn’t regret it. Not for a second. She loved Kara. Kara was her sister, in heart if not in blood. And Maggie had seen enough cases get rigged to know exactly what was about to happen.

Maggie had known there were crooked cops in the National City Police Department. She just hadn’t realized that the Chief was one of them. And the Commissioner. But she wasn’t stupid, and she’d seen the writing on the wall, clear as day, so she’d made a choice to protect Kara in the only way that would stick. She’d talked to the press, and she’d let Leslie talk to the press. She’d let the press see Kara and Leslie standing there together, and even if the Chief and the Commissioner tried to walk back what she’d said to the press, there was no way in hell the DA would press charges. Maggie had spiked the case against Kara irrevocably. She’d poisoned the well.

And all it had cost her was her job, her pension, and her future.

The orders had been specific. Hold Supergirl and Willis until the Captain arrived. He would take over the case. Simple as that, Maggie knew. She’d called Alex, told her what was happening, and they’d worked out a plan. Then, she’d lied to Alex for the first time. She’d told her it would be okay, and she’d get a slap on the wrist, maybe a couple days’ suspension, but Maggie knew what would happen. She could tell by Alex’s tone that Alex didn’t believe the lie any more than she did.

In the end, Maggie didn’t try to fight it. Her union rep’s arguments on her behalf were perfunctory, and when it was over, Maggie had just tossed her badge on the desk and left without a word. She’d just packed her desk and headed for the parking structure.

She used her key fob to pop her trunk and tossed the banker’s box inside. The two bullets slammed into her back as she reached up to close the trunk. The shots were positioned perfectly. Two 9mm hollow point Plus P rounds dead center.

They should have killed her instantly. They should have severed her spine, torn through her heart, and blown out her sternum. Except that Kara had ordered Konex to replace all of Maggie’s, Alex’s and Susan’s clothes weeks ago with Kryptonian fabric which was designed to stop a micro-meteor hit at orbital velocities.

Maggie didn’t feel a thing, but the parking structure was like an echo chamber, and even with the silencer, the sound of a gun was distinctive. Her hand dropped, brushing aside her jacket and drawing her Glock even as she turned. Her would-be assassin stood there, staring at her in disbelief, even as Maggie squeezed the trigger.

Alex jumped slightly when her phone started playing Mr. Roboto. She turned away from the security plan she was looking over, and pulled out her phone, swiping to answer it.

“Hello,” Alex said.

“Lady Alex, Maggie has been attacked,” Konex said.

“What?” Alex said loudly enough that everyone in the DEO command center looked up from what they were doing.

“She was shot in the back twice at close range,” Konex said.

Alex physically recoiled from the words, fear twisting in her gut like a knife.

“She is unharmed,” Konex said. “Lady Kara had me replace her entire wardrobe with Kryptonian barrier cloth several weeks ago, but she requires assistance immediately. Normally, I would contact Lady Kara, however, I believe her presence would make the current situation worse.”

Alex felt relief flood into her when Konex said Maggie was okay, but she knew she had to get to her now. She had to protect Maggie. That was the only thought in her head, overriding everything else.

“Konex, can you transmat me?” Alex asked.

“Of course,” Konex said.

“Do it,” Alex said, ignoring the startled look on Susan’s face as Alex drew her gun.

The first thought to go through Susan Vasquez’s head when Alex drew her pistol and vanished in a flash of light right out of the DEO’s command center was “why the fuck does this shit always splash on me?”. She gave herself about five seconds to wallow in her self-pity, before she turned around and started barking orders.

“Reynolds, Tsung, I need two strike teams full kit, in the Blackhawks five minutes ago. Come on people, move like you’ve got a purpose!”

She turned to Wilson, who was at her normal station. “We’ve got a situation. Get me details.”

She reached for her phone, taking it out and unlocking it, then tapping Konex’s contact and hitting the call button.

“Agent Vasquez,” Konex said.

“Report on Agent Danvers’ status,” she snapped.

“Maggie was attacked in the NCPD parking structure. She was shot in the back twice at short range. However, at Lady Kara’s instructions, all of Detective Sawyer’s clothing had been replaced with garments made of Kryptonian barrier fabric. The barrier fabric prevented injury, but Maggie was forced to kill her attacker. Given the situation, I believed it best to contact Agent Danvers instead of Lady Kara.”

“Good call,” Susan said. “Wilson, I want those strike teams at National City Police Headquarters parking structure yesterday.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said.

“Konex, put me through to Supergirl,” Susan said. There was a brief pause before Kara answered.

“Hey, Susan,” Kara said.

“Kara, where are you?” Susan asked.

“I’m with Cat,” Kara said.

“Okay, good. I need you to stay where you are. Do you understand?”

“Susan, what’s going on? Where are J’onn and Alex.”

“Supergirl, I need you to listen to me,” Susan said. “This is adult supervision talking. Do you understand?”

There was a moment of silence, then Kara said, “Yes. Adult supervision. Stay where I am, no matter what.”

“Okay,” Susan said. “Konex will brief you. I have to go.” She hung up the phone and shoved it into her pocket. “Wilson, get me President Marsdin.”

“On it,” Wilson said.

Susan stood there, waiting as the minutes ticked by, until President Marsdin’s face appeared on the screen.

“Agent Vasquez, where is acting Director Danvers?” Marsdin asked.

“Maggie Sawyer’s been shot, ma’am,” Susan said.

“What?” Marsdin asked, disbelief written on her face.

“My understanding of the situation is she took two rounds at close range. She’s unhurt, to the best of my knowledge, but she had to kill her attacker. I have Supergirl on lockdown, and two rapid response teams are heading for the Blackhawks now, but Director Danvers made use of certain technology in Supergirl’s possession to travel to the scene and render aid. We’re waiting for an update, but Madam President, I am not at all comfortable with you travelling to National City at this time.”

“I understand your concern, Agent Vasquez, but the situation is spiraling-”

“No, ma’am, you clearly do not understand the goddamned situation, or you wouldn’t be walking into it. They shot a fucking police detective inside of the NCPD Headquarters parking structure. That’s after they tried to beat Leslie Willis to death in her home and pin it on Supergirl. This entire city is a fucking powder keg, and you aren’t a match, you’re the Goddamned Olympic torch. Either divert your flight, or I am going to take it under my own authority as acting director of the DEO, in Director Danvers’ absence, to enlist the aid of anyone I see fit to prevent this from turning into an absolute shit show. Am I clear, ma’am?”

“Perfectly, Agent Vasquez,” Marsdin said. “I understand Superman is still in National City at this time.”

“He is, ma’am.”

“Can you contact him?” Marsdin asked.

“I can.”

“Do so. See if he will agree to meet and escort my flight,” Marsdin said.

“Understood. Vasquez out.” Susan didn’t wait for a reply, she just reached for her phone, and dialed Konex again.

“I need to talk to Superman,” Susan said.

Alex materialized in the parking structure with her gun ready and turned immediately toward the sound of a surprised gasp, only to find herself staring down the barrel of Maggie’s gun.

“Jesus, Danvers,” Maggie said, quickly lowering her weapon. “I could have killed you.”

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, looking around, taking in every shape and shadow. “Konex said you’d been shot.”

“I’m fine,” Maggie said.

“Thank God,” Alex said, and without thinking about it, she stepped forward and pulled Maggie into a crushing hug. “You scared the hell out of me.” She felt Maggie hug her back, and a bit more of the terror that had hold of her loosened.

“I scared the hell out of me,” Maggie said. “But Konex was wrong. The guy missed. I heard the shots, turned around and popped the guy.”

“Maggie,” Alex said, finally letting go of her, “take off your jacket.”

“What? Why?” Maggie said.

“Because he didn’t miss,” Alex said.

Maggie frowned and holstered her gun, then shrugged out of her jacket and turned it around, looking at the back of it. There were two grey lumps stuck to the back.

“What the hell?” Maggie asked.

Alex reached out and peeling one of the lumps away from the jacket. “Bullets,” she said. “Same thing happens to Kara’s cape sometimes when she gets shot in the back at close range.”

“But how?”

“Konex said Kara has provided you with protective clothing,” Alex said. “She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No,” Maggie said.

“DROP THE WEAPON!” A voice yelled.

Alex turned her head, and spotted two cops, both men, standing there, weapons out.

“Easy,” she said as both she and Maggie raised their hands. “I’m a federal agent, and she’s a cop.”

“I SAID DROP THE WEAPON!” one of them shouted.

“I said, I’m a federal agent,” Alex replied.

“I don’t care if you’re the fucking pope, drop the damn gun,” the cop replied.

“I am going to holster my weapon, then I am going to reach for my ID,” Alex said.

“You are going to drop the damn gun, right-”

“TOH SNUG!” a woman shouted from the shadows.

Both of the cops shouted and dropped their guns, waving the hands frantically as if they were burnt.

“Dloc snug,” the same woman said, this time in a much softer tone. Alex looked toward where the shout had come from, only to see a woman in a tux and tails step out of the shadows, shaking her head. “You boys really should learn some manners. Kcirb llaw.” She waved her hand as she spoke the last two words and a brick wall appeared, blocking the cops from view.

She turned toward Alex and Maggie. “Are you Alex Danvers?” she asked.

“Um… yes?” Alex said as she lowered her hands and holstered her gun.

“Zatanna Zatara, at your service,” she said, before bowing to them. “Your sister thought you could use some assistance.

Alex and Maggie looked at each other. “What is it with your sister?” Maggie asked.

Alex just shook her head.

“You’re sure everything’s good?” Susan asked.

“Assuming I don’t shoot one of these assholes, I think we’ll be okay,” Alex said.

“So, fifty-fifty?” Susan asked.

“Shut up,” Alex said, but there was amusement in her tone.

“Shutting up, ma’am,” Susan said.

“I don’t know how quickly I’m going to be able to shake us loose,” Alex said.

“Anything I can do to help, ma’am?” Susan asked.

“Just make sure the security is set for the President’s visit,” Alex said. “I’ve got Konex putting together everything we can find on this John Corben guy, but this whole thing stinks. I think right now the only reason Maggie isn’t in cuffs is that I’ve got twelve guys with Tevor assault rifles and two gunships parked on the roof.”

“I’m on it, ma’am,” Susan replied. “See you soon.”

The video feed cut, and Susan turned around, only to jump at the sight of Leslie Willis standing right in front of her.

“I will say this for Supergirl,” Leslie said, “she sure knows how to find the hot ladies.”

“How did you get in here?” Susan asked.

“Easy,” Leslie said, then she vanished, leaving behind only an arc of lightning jumping from where she was standing, to a spot on one of the catwalks, where she reappeared. She leaned down, resting her arms on the hand rails of the catwalk. “You know, when Supergirl said I was going to have powers, I thought it would take me forever to learn to use them. I had the whole thing in my head. There was a training montage, me in a sports bra and yoga pants punching a heavy bag and looking fabulous, me fighting Supergirl, me frying Supergirl with lightning. The soundtrack was Come With Me Now by Kongos. It was a thing. But this…”

She disappeared, and a lightning bolt struck the ground in front of Susan, leaving Leslie standing in front of her. “This is like breathing. I don’t even have to think about it. I can feel the electricity flowing around us. It’s calling to me, like music.”

Susan frowned, not at all liking where this was going. “Are you okay?”

Leslie nodded. “It’s a… It’s like a really good high,” she said. “I’m wired, and I need to do something.”

Susan was going to kill Kara. Really, she was.

“I tell you what,” she said. “Why don’t I have Kafel take you down to the firing range, and you can try blasting a few targets? Sound good?”

Leslie nodded. “I can work with that,” she said. “Get in some practice for when we find this Henshaw guy.”

Susan waved Kafel over. “Take Miss Willis down to the special ordinance firing range,” she said. “The Heat Vision settings should do.”

Kafel nodded and headed for the range, Leslie in tow.

Susan watched them leave, then shook herself as she realized where her eyes had been focused. She must be a lot more stressed than she thought. She’d only been single a month, and she usually had to have a dry spell of at least six months before she was reduced to staring at straight girls’ asses.

Being the adult sucked.

J’onn stared down at the board in front of him, trying to find a way out of the trap he’d been so skillfully lured into, and had to admit there wasn’t one. He reached forward, and tipped his king over, conceding the match.

“You’re a fast learner,” he said.

“You are a capable teacher,” Astra replied. “But truth be told, you give me more credit that I deserve. The game is similar to one we played on Krypton. A bit simpler. /,mizrhosh,levrrosh,/ works in three dimensions.”

“I should teach you Go,” J’onn said. “Kara loves it. Says it reminds her of /,:divi,chao,dovrrosh,/.”

Astra smiled. “She loved that game,” she said. “From the moment I taught her. We played for hours.”

“Was she any good?” J’onn asked.

“No,” Astra said, her smile growing a bit. “I love my niece, but she has no patience at all.”

“She might surprise you,” J’onn said.

“I find you surprising, son of Mars,” Astra said. “Most would be angry, were they in your situation.”

“I knew this day would come,” J’onn said. “A secret like mine can only be kept so long. Oh, it might have held, if Henshaw had really died, but once I knew he was alive, this moment became inevitable.”

“Tell me, does my niece still deceive herself into believing we will be freed?” Astra asked.

“You will be,” J’onn said as he began to reset the board for another game. “One way, or the other.”

“That sounds ominous,” Astra said.

“It should,” J’onn said. “If Marsdin doesn’t keep her word, your niece will tear this place apart to free you.”

“And then?” Astra asked.

“War,” J’onn said. “A long, terrible war.”

“I do not wish that for her,” Astra said, as she made her first move.

“War is coming,” J’onn said. “If not with the humans, then with the Oans and the Apokoliptians.”

“You sound sure of that,” Astra said.

“As sure as I am that I’m sitting in prison.”

“Very sure than,” Astra said. “I trust the irony doesn’t escape you.”

“It doesn’t,” J’onn said. “The humans even have a phrase for it. ‘A prison of your own making.’”

“And yet, you still have hope.”

“I do,” J’onn said. “It’s a byproduct of spending time around the Danvers. They have ways of working miracles.”

“Well, J’onn J’onzz, let us hope you are right. I would very much like to have a word with this man who’s cast doubt on my niece’s good name.”

“You and me both.”

Susan stood at attention as the President walked into the DEO command center, wondering not for the first time what on Earth she had done to deserve a day like this. Superman was only a few steps behind her, and there was a vague look of fear on his face. Given the expression on Marsdin’s face, she couldn’t say she was surprised. If Marsdin has looked at her like that, even a month ago, Susan probably would have run and hid under her bunk. Somehow, though, the prospect of being responsible for stopping the end of the world made her worry less about the President being pissed at her.

“Agent Vasquez,” Marsdin said, and her tone did nothing to hide the anger behind her eyes.

“Acting Director Vasquez,” Susan corrected.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t apologize,” Marsdin replied.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t apologize for calling you a damn stubborn fool,” Susan shot back, making Superman, and at least two members of the secret service team wince.

“Well, I suppose there’s no questioning your bravery,” Marsdin said.

“I’m trying to keep you alive, ma’am,” Susan said. “I don’t appreciate anyone adding to the difficulty of that task. Even you.”

Marsdin relaxed, just a bit. “I suppose that’s a fair sentiment, Director, but I don’t believe I have any choice. If what we’re doing is to succeed, we all have to accept a little risk.”

“With respect, ma’am, you could have signed the paperwork in your nice, safe office three thousand miles from the fucking war zone I am trying my best to manage.”

“I could have, but I could not have appeared on stage with Director Henshaw, General Astra, and Supergirl.”

Susan took a deep breath. “We could have arranged that, actually,” Susan said. “Or, at least, Supergirl could have. But it’s done. You’re here. How would you like to proceed?”

“First, I’d like an update on the situation with Detective Sawyer,” Marsdin said.

“The situation is still in flux,” Susan said. “Detective Sawyer called us this morning to inform us that she believed the National City Police Commissioner and the Chief of Police were attempting to railroad Supergirl. She had a signed statement from Willis confirming Supergirl’s innocence, but the Commissioner and the Chief ordered her to hold Supergirl, and a contact she had in the DA’s office confirmed that charges were still being prepared. Detective Sawyer headed this off by making a public statement confirming Supergirl’s innocence, and then allowed Willis to speak to the press. The Commissioner fired Detective Sawyer for insubordination and disobeying a direct order. Detective Sawyer turned in her badge and cleared out her desk. While loading her belongings into the trunk of her car, a known assassin for hire named John Corben shot her from behind with a silenced Glock 9mm. Detective Sawyer was wearing low profile body armor of Kryptonian design when attacked, and as a result, was unharmed. She drew her weapon, which she was carrying under cover of a civilian carry permit and shot Corben twice in the chest. Acting Director Danvers was notified of the incident by an automated monitoring system and took advantage of a piece of Supergirl’s equipment to travel immediately to the scene and make sure Detective Sawyer was safe. I dispatched a pair of strike teams as back up and assumed command of the DEO in Director Danvers’ absence. I notified Supergirl of the situation, and ordered her to remain in place, however, she contacted one of her assets, a sorceress named Zatanna Zatara to render aid. Zatanna arrived in time to prevent two National City Police Officers from taking Danvers and Sawyer into custody. The situation has since devolved into a jurisdictional pissing match between the NCPD and the DEO. The NCPD wants jurisdiction because the attempt was made on NCPD property. We are claiming jurisdiction because Sawyer is a credentialed consultant for us. Of course, we’d be better able to press the claim if we weren’t having to claim to be FBI, but for now, there’s nothing we can do about that situation.”

“Well, that I can help with. Once we’re done here, get me an office, and I’ll make a call.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Susan said.

“What about the arrangements for the signing?” Marsdin asked.

“Progressing. We’ve been holding off on securing a venue, however. We have no idea how far our enemy’s intelligence reaches, so we want to save that for the last minute. At the moment, we haven’t even informed NCPD that you will be in town. That’s why I insisted Air Force One land here.”

“How quickly can we have this done, Director?” Marsdin asked.

“Unsure. I’d say one o’clock, but it depends on how quickly we can find a venue.”

“As fast as possible, please,” Marsdin said.

“Understood,” Vasquez replied. “Brody, set President Marsdin up in the office next to the one Major Lane is using.”

“Yes, ma’am,” came the response as a young agent stepped forward. “This way, Madame President,” she said, leading the way towards the office General Lane used when he was there.”

Susan waited until they were gone, then pulled out her phone and dialled Kara.

“Susan, is Alex okay?” Kara asked.

“She’s fine,” Susan said. “Quick thinking with Zatanna. Alex was impressed.”

Kara snorted. “Is that what they’re calling it now,” Kara said, amusement in her voice. “I’d worry that Maggie would notice how impressed Alex was, but Maggie’s probably too busy being impressed herself.”

Susan smiled for the first time in hours. “Having seen Zatanna, I’m pretty impressed too, but that’s not why I called. I need your help.”

“What’s happening?”

“Marsdin is in National City,” Susan said.

“WHAT? No. Oh, Susan, whose dumb idea was that?” Kara asked.

“Hers, and I’ve already told her it was a horrible idea,” Susan said.

“Can’t J’onn do something?”

“J’onn’s not available,” Susan said.

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing to worry about,” Susan said. “Just, I need a safe venue where Marsdin can hold a press conference. She’s going to sign the Amnesty act, then sign the pardons we’ve prepared, along with a couple of executive orders. Once it’s done, our hands will be untied. We can go after Cadmus. But she has to live long enough to sign them.”

“Do it here at CatCo,” Kara said. “Short of the DEO building downtown, it’s the most defensible location in National City.”

“Um… No offence Kara, but CatCo Plaza is a giant target.”

“It would be, if I hadn’t spliced an Omegahedron into the power system and installed defense field generators around the CatCo building months ago.”

Susan blinked as her entire thought process blue-screened for a moment. When it came back online, she just shook her head.

“Kara, I could kiss you right now,” she said.

“At least buy me dinner first,” Kara said, laughter in her voice. “We have a studio on the twelfth floor that should be large enough. I’ll get working on it. No motorcade though. You keep Oliva there until it’s time, and we’ll do a site-to-site transmat.”

“Got it,” Susan said. “See you soon.” She hung up, and slipped her phone back in her pocket, then started making preparations while hoping like hell no-one told Kara that J’onn had spent the last few hours in lock up, and that two of the pardons in question were for Susan and Alex.

Christ, today was a shit show, start to finish.

Bruce muted the sound coming from the batcomputer, and leaned back, staring unseeingly at the screen.

“You’re absolutely sure?” Bruce asked.

“Positive,” Barbara said. She was sitting at the workstation next to him.

“We’ve checked everything three times,” Tim said, from the other side of where Bruce sat. “The money trails are incredibly well covered, but the initial deposit was done in nineteen ninety-eight.”

“There was about fifty billion in accumulated assets by the time Kara got hired at CatCo,” Barbara said. “But that number has grown about three thousand percent in the last fourteen months.”

“I don’t get it,” Tim said. “I thought she arrived in two thousand three.”

“She did,” Bruce said. “I tracked her from the Fortress while Clark went out to intercept the pod.”

“Then how is this possible?” Barbara asked.

“I don’t know,” Bruce said, “but we need to find out. Can you get me a physical location on where the transactions were coming from?”

“Up until October of last year,” Tim said. “After that, the connection becomes much harder to trace. Victor might be able to run it down, but we haven’t been able to trace it.”

“That makes sense,” Bruce said. “According to Clark, that’s around the time she set up her own Fortress.”

“Well, before that, everything was coming from this building,” Tim said, pulling up a map of Keystone City, and zooming in to a small building in the industrial district. “I’ve pulled everything I can on it. The property taxes are paid by a property management service, which also pays a maintenance crew to keep the place up to code. Twice a year, an IT subcontractor goes in and upgrades a server rack and checks all the network connections. The old computers have their hard drives replaced before they are donated to a charity which does IT for community centers in low income areas of Keystone, Central and National City. The old hard drives are shredded. There’s a security company that drives by twice a night and monitors an alarm system, but there’s no onsite security. The only thing odd about the place is the amount of internet bandwidth. It’s been steadily upgraded over the years. Right now, it’s at one-hundred gigabits per second, symmetrical.”

“That’s a lot of bandwidth for a single server rack,” Bruce said.

“What do you think it means?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know,” Bruce said.

“This is Kara we’re talking about,” Barbara said. “Why not just ask?”

“Because something doesn’t add up,” Bruce said.

“Because we don’t have all the information,” Barbara said. “Hence the asking part.”

“She has a point, Bruce,” Tim said.

“I think I might need to take a trip to Keystone city,” Bruce said.

“Or I could just call Kara,” Barbara said. “Look, I have my phone, right here.”

Bruce hit the intercom button. “Alfred, call and have the jet prepped for a trip to Keystone city.”

Barbara leaned over, so she could see Tim past Bruce. “Why is he like this?”

Tim threw his hands up in the air. “Repeated head trauma?”

Translated from the Kryptonian:

,mizrhosh,levrrosh, Advance - Retreat

,:divi,chao,dovrrosh, light and shadow

[alittlemissfit]

Their Struggle

My angsty attempt to wrestle with the last words in the damn train wreck we were given. Post-ep, MSIV.  @today-in-fic

He feels it in the hug they share on the dock. She starts trembling in his arms and when he pulls back, he sees her face has gone disturbingly pale. She’s having trouble catching her breath and his eyes fall to her stomach. She’s pregnant and not breathing and their son was just shot in cold blood by a nicotine addicted bastard, and his blood runs cold but he forces it to stop.

He can’t go cold, he can’t go numb. She’s already done that enough for the both of them and by the look on her face it’s clearly taken it’s toll.

“Scully, c’mon. Breathe. Breathe, honey. I got ya,” he soothes, rubbing her back before pulling back slightly. Her eyes are still too wide, her panting too pronounced. If he doesn’t keep her steady she’ll faint and the last thing he can handle is explaining the horrific components of this night to EMT’s and nurses. He guides her away. Impersonates a pillar of strength when all he wants is to crumble to dust and be scattered in the sea to join his flesh and blood. His hand moves from the small of her back to her belly just briefly enough to counteract his will to jump off the dock, right as sirens start wailing and the squad cars pull up. They sit huddled in blankets in the back of the ambulance. Watch as the scene is surveyed and body bags are zipped up. Once the divers are sent towards the dock though Mulder swears, throws the blanket off his shoulders. Shoving past the EMT’s and the cop taking their statements he walks back towards the warehouse, chokes back a sob and punches through the first wall his fist finds. Approaching footsteps don’t deter him but a familiar grip on his bicep does. He turns slightly, winded. Sees her standing before him draped in bleached grey wool. Her eyes are wide and watery and the tears he’d blinked back start flowing full force. He’s full on weeping and she crouches beside him on the ground, strokes his hair. All the while she answers the cop’s questions in such a clinical, removed fashion it sends a chill down his spine. When she’s done giving their statements she helps him into a standing position. He’s hesitant, he makes a move to head back to the dock but she stops him. They’ll be notified. He’s in shock. He needs sleep. Too drained to argue with her they head to where the car is parked. The walk is silent save some crickets and Scully's keeping a brisk pace, remaining at least two steps ahead of him the entire time.

He pulls the key fob from his back pocket, unlocks the car. Before he can take another step she lets herself in the driver’s side door. “Scully..” “Get in the car, Mulder,” she rasps, reaching a hand out to take the keys from him. He gets in the passenger seat, buckles up and she speeds towards the highway. He holds his tongue when she rolls through a stop sign, instead opting to recline the seat back and stare up through the moonroof at the stars. His eyes get heavy and it doesn’t register that they’re home until she taps his shoulder. They trudge up the porch steps and she lets them in with her key. He promptly kicks off his shoes, sinks onto the couch while she gingerly slides off her coat. He sees her hand trembling as she hangs it on the coat rack and before he knows it, the quaking spreads to her entire body. She wraps her arms around herself and Mulder hops to his feet, moves to stand behind her. “Shhh, shh.” Her breathing is rapid again and he resists the urge to pull her to his chest, hold her as close as possible. His hands go to her shoulders but she steps away, quickly perches on the nearby ottoman. “Scully..” “I just need to sit. Just need to sit down. I…I..” She’s still fighting to take a full fucking breath and he kneels down in front of her. Tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re still shaking, Scully.” “It’s fine. I…it’ll pass.” “But you-“ “Mulder, I'm fine!” Shaking his head he reaches for the afghan draped over the back of the easy chair. He moves to drape it over her but she recoils. “I’m not cold, damn it!" Scoffing he shoves the blanket into her lap, stands and turns on his heel. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The words leave his mouth before he even thinks them. Before he considers the implications and how they’ll land.

Balled up cloth is lobbed hard at the back of his head and he lets out a slow breath, pivots to face her

“Say that to my face.”

“Scully,” he pleads. Voice gruff he swallows back a lump in his throat, bows his head while she marches up to him. “Look at me and say that!" His eyes are fixed on the carpet, his feet that stagger, shuffle backward when she shoves him hard in the chest. “Look at me!"

Her voice is scratchy and shrill. It hurts his ears, hurts him to hear her. It all just fucking hurts. But she’s the only one not in the morgue tonight capable of understanding and feeling that hurt. At least he’s praying to her God that she can.

“If my being cold is my stating the facts, seeing the truth in front of me for the absolute hell that it is…” “Scully…” “The same truth that we risked our careers for, that we sacrificed for, lost loved ones for. That we became partners for...”

Her voice breaks as he meets her eyes. “This is part of our truth now, Mulder.” “I understand, Scully,” he says gruffly. “And I’m sorry. Please, you...you don’t have to-" "William wanted us to let him go. William was not meant to be. William was an experiment. William was an idea born in a laboratory.” She’s speaking raggedly, swiping tears away with her hand before her eyes surrender, squeeze shut. “Scully…" "I carried him. I bore him, but I….I was never a mother to him.” Her head bowed, shaking, Mulder moves in closer. Pulls her as tight as he can to his chest. “He wasn’t meant to be, he was an experiment. He was an idea. He..he wanted us to let him go. He wanted us to let him go,”

She repeats herself. Makes the words her mantra. Her face is pressed into his chest as her tears soak his shirt.

“I need to let go, Mulder. I don’t have a choice. I…I, damn it! I’ve never had a choice!”

Moving out of his hold she grabs a glass paperweight off of the desk.

“I should’ve been the one to shoot Spender,” she spits, throwing the tchotchke against the kitchen counter before reaching for a vase. Smashing the ceramic against the far wall.

“I should’ve made the bastard hurt. I should’ve him suffer. I should’ve stood there to watch him bleed out. I should’ve pushed his corpse off the dock myself.”

“I know,” Mulder says roughly. “Scully, I emptied my clip into him. One third of it for you, one third for William, one third for me. But if you’d been standing there, if...if I knew.”

“I should’ve known. I...I had every test run when I’d found out. But paternity..”

“You wanted to believe.”

Taking her by the shoulders Mulder gently turns her towards him.

“I did believe! I believed when I put him in your arms that night,” she chokes out, breaking free of his hold for the mantle this time.

She pushes off a row of books and their bookends, whips a Buddha statue into the corner and a candle into the railing before scrambling back for the last object. She has her hand around it and aims to throw until her thumb grazes the filled in crack in the small glass dome.

Breath hitching, she staggers back to sit back down on the couch. Turning the snow globe over in her palm she shakes it gently, watches the flakes and glitter fall on the windmill.

All Mulder can do is shake his head, look down at her pained.

“Scully…”

“He told me when he handed this back to me not to give up on the bigger picture. I…I didn’t know what that meant. I still don’t.”

“I think it means,” he says solemnly, sitting beside her as she curls into his side. “That when you’re ready, to try and see beyond the facts, Scully.”

“But they're right there, Mulder. They’re right there. All staring us in the face."

“And doing nothing but causing pain and fear and grief. I know. All that darkness is always going to be part of our truth, but the only truth that matters to me right now, in this moment, lies in that bigger picture. I know it’s not as cut and dry and logical as you’d like but it's simple, Scully. It’s clear.”

“Tell me what you see,” she begs.

“As long as you don’t accuse me of running a seance. I know your stance on those,” Mulder says, earning a flicker of a soft smile.

“What I see is you and I together. We’re safe, we're temporarily out of work, but have all the more time to put finishing touches on the nursery. We have a girl. We used to have a boy. He was taken from us, taken from us way too soon. But he knew how much we loved him. He told us so.”

“But I questioned it. I asked him how he knew. What kind of mother asks her son that?”

“The kind of mother that’s forced to. The kind that doesn’t have a choice.”

She softly whimpers then and he pulls her onto his lap, strokes her hair.

“You have a choice now though, you understand? If…if you can’t handle this, if it’s too much…forget what I said about the nursery, what I said on the dock. There’s more to me than fatherhood, Scully. There’s you. There’s your health, your happiness, your plans for the rest of your life. If those include a baby, or if they don’t…I understand. I just pray they’ll include me.”

“You didn’t need to light the candle next to mine to ensure that,” she says softly, nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

"I need you, Fox.”

Brushing his lips on the top of her head he swallows hard, holds her tighter.

“I need you too.”

“I do want this for us. I want to believe it’ll happen. But I’m afraid. I’m 54. I can’t let go of another child. But what...what if it happens? What if I can’t stop it?”

“I don’t know, Scully. I...I wish I could guarantee things. I wish it was twenty years ago. I know you said prayers aren’t wishes, but I’ll light a few candles. I’ll light a hundred if I know it’ll do any good.”

“There’s no way of knowing, Mulder. But it couldn’t hurt.”

Slowly she climbs off his lap, ducks into the bathroom as he gets to his feet. Picks the votive off the floor along with the fortunately unbroken Buddha. Going over to the fireplace he throws a log bag in, lights it before scraping up as many tea lights and cupcake candles as he can find.

When she exits the bathroom the lights are off as flames dance and flicker, casting a glow on Mulder’s face as he lies back against the arm of the couch.

“It’s not a hundred, but the fires gotta be at least thirty or forty, right?”

“That seems like a fair estimate, yeah,” she says, wiping her eyes with her sleeve before reaching for the snow globe. She gives it a shake as he shifts over, makes room for her to lie beside him.

“You’re not shaking anymore.”

“Bigger picture,” she murmurs, bringing his hand to her belly after setting the snow globe on his chest. 

“I’m thinking about the bigger picture.”

[averybritishsomething]

Long moving update

Hi! I know I promised this, and obviously I’ve been online and caught up, but here is my fun moving story. And all my shit is in my new condo. as far as I know most of it survived in one piece. So if you don’t know me, and wanted a tldr there it is! Read more cause this got long as hell

SO! Monday night I stayed up till 2 am (tuesday morning I guess) finishing packing most of the shit. Mom was coming on Tuesday (and before I continue, I just need to say that she was actually massively helpful, and not judgmental about shit, and honestly, best help I've gotten from here in a LOOOONG ass time) and I wanted to look like I was totally ready. Because some of my college moves were a complete shit show, and mom witnessed all of those. I crashed around 2.30-3 ish, planning to sleep till 9.45. Nope. the doughnuts my relator sent over (which are stans doughnuts and delicious) arrived at 9.15 instead of 11. So I broke speed records for getting dressed in something and running out to get those. Mom made it about 11.30 and we were working on the last min shit (getting all the trash out, and loading everything in my fridge/freezer into coolers because who needs to buy all new condiments). We had finished packing all the shit by a bit after 1, and had moved onto sweeping where we could (around the boxes lol) and double checking cabinets. My movers said it would only take an hour to move all of my packed shit into their truck, drive it to the new place, and get it up in the elevator. They said they would be there between 1 and 2. so. I had elevator reservations at this building for 1-5. Any time I go over, I have to pay a fee. $50 a half hour. I told the movers this in the initial email. They never gave me a phone number, everything had been over email. At 1.30 I started to get nervous. at 2 I started to call every number I could find attached to them online. Finally I got a call back at 2.15. Their previous job had run over, and I was next. They would get to my place by 3.30. Welp. nothing I can do. I reiterated the time for the elevator. And for those unfamiliar with Chicago traffic, let me tell you, rush hour starts at about 4, and lasts until 8 ish. The drive between the two places is about 15 min in a speeding uber with no traffic, or 45 min stuck in all the traffic. Or something between. They brought an extra guy they didn’t charge me for, and got all my shit out in like 20 min. Which is just fucking impressive, because I had a daybed, mattress, 3 shelves with cubes in them, a desk, chair, tv, 4 rugs, 9 under bed bins, and about 40 moving boxes, and lived in a second story walk up. 

So then mom and I ran over to the new place. Plan was, I run in, get the movers, do whatever I needed to do with security, got moms parking pass for later, while mom went back to the apartment to get the things we didn’t want the movers to move (there were like 4 smallish boxes, 2 backpacks, and the contents of the freezer that needed to be tossed into grocery bags. the boxes and backpacks were fragile and irreplaceable things, and the backpacks were legal docs, a few decent and sentimental pieces of jewelry, and my laptop), then, once mom was headed over, i’d head down, meet her in the circle drive out front, and we’d figure out parking. 

lol

So, I run in, run back to the loading bay, and can’t find a security guard. Then the movers call and they can’t figure out how to get to the back of the building. So I go out back to try to give them directions. They finally show up (traffic was awful), and one guy goes, ‘show me where to go’. So he follows me. Still no guard by the loading bay, so I head to management office. A security guard is going in, so I go to follow him and he yells at me. OOOK. I decide to go to the front desk next. They tell me to go to management and point out I only have about 45 min (I FUCKING KNOW). I say I can’t get into the management office right now, this is time sensitive, where is the security guard by the back door. She radios someone and says they’re coming around the corner. Guard who yelled at me earlier comes around the corner. I ask him. He says hes looking for someone and not to bother him. oooook. I go back to the front desk. she now says they don’t have the move in info up there, can’t prove that i am who i say i am, and that I need to move. and to head back to management. Management is a 4 min leisurely stroll from the desk btw. So i’m heading back, when a different security guard rounds the corner, and asks if im the mover. well she asks the mover if we’re moving in, and i’m like ‘nope, i am, he’s carrying the shit, i’m paying’. and she starts in on complaining about how we’ve kept her waiting all day and she wants to go home. I apologize (but like also, I paid her to be there. not to sound entitled, but she was paid to do nothing but sit in an air conditioned office waiting for me to show up, and then to watch movers walk by. I’m sorry, but good grief, i also did not want to be running late). So then we try to take the elevators. the door to the freight elevator is locked for no fucking reason. my fob won’t work. she doesn't have a key. So i run back to the front desk, and she radios for mr friendly security guard to come back. He takes his sweeet ass time walking there, and we spend 5 min staring at the glass doors separating me from the service elevators. my mover is like ‘ i hope we’re refunded for this 15 min’ and i’m like ‘bitch i wish you’d showed up on time’ internally but just nod. SO then she’s like ‘you know you just have 15 min left. ‘ and i’m like ‘yes i am aware’. and she’s like ‘i have to tell management if you run over’ and i’m like ‘yes i know this too’. so it’s unlocked, I escort the movers to my room, unlock the door, and then fucking sprint back to management office (which I still haven’t made it into today) so I can pick up my parking pass for mom, before management office closes at 5. so the movers get my shit up in like 45 min, and then move it to the correct rooms. I pay them and tip them cause apparently you’re supposed to. and then I lay down and try to stop sweating for 5 seconds.

Then mom calls. She’s on her way, and got everything but one box in her car. So I head down to the lobby (meet a neighbor I share a wall with, he seems super nice, teaches piano, was giving a lesson while i was moving in, I couldn’t hear anything. i love these thick walls) and hop in moms car, and we go to figure out the garage. We finally figure out how to get in (this took a few min, the garage system is currently complicated as they’re in the middle of renovating) get down and discover that yes we have in and out privileges with this pass, but it’s still valet. all parking I can get for guests is valet. which is awkward but ok. We meet William, who is SUPER friendly, nicely explains how the garage works, lets us leave the car by the valet stand while we unload some things, lets me use the luggage cart, just is all around awesome. So we get the shit upstairs, unload the cold shit, and run back downstairs to drive to fucking ikea. We get there, figure out the closet thing I want is too big for my closet (sigh) and order the rest of the shit to be delivered here on the 11th. So that’s when I’ll have furniture again lol.  

we go home and pass out. it’s 11, i’ve been running all day, this is deserved. 

the next day we start unpacking. I'm dealing with my clothes, mom is doing the kitchen. I hear some ‘broken pottery pieces moving around noises’ and know i’m fucked. All my fucking plates except 3 are busted. They were sturdy old plates that looked like fiestaware I got at good will and have had for nearly 10 years. They're all still wrapped in my bubble wrap. Just fucking shattered. So. that’s something I need to deal with. So far they’re the only broken things we’ve found, but damn it’s going to be a pain to replace. So once the cable guy shows up 2 hours late, and finally gets that set up, mom and I run back to the apartment, grab the last box, and go to physically drop my keys off because my landlord sucks. We get stuck in traffic cause Western is shit again, and finally make the ‘20 min’ drive according to gps in about an hour. I drop them off, and we’re back at my condo. Mom and I unpack until she leaves in the evening and then I go to my room and get online and I haven’t unpacked shit since then. I’m going to after I type this out (and send a form to the office, and ask a polite question about how do I get amazon packages delivered to the package room because my smoke alarm does not work at all and the nice matience guy who discovered that yesterday let me off without a fine, cause he could see i’d literally just moved in, but I need to fix that). But like.... i’m actually in the room! and about half the boxes are unpacked!!! which is amazing!!!! so, it had some issues, but at least i’m fucking moved!