#touches the kids or does anything with them really but Claudia and him—the people he trusts which also now includes calla but he makes sure

[tenwhiteandalusians]

pertaining to the idea of tenax’s band of strays i do think it’s touching that the kids are the ones who saved him and waited outside the door to make sure he’s okay. for all tenax claims to be harsh and cruel it’s a fine indicator of his character that the kids won’t rest without him and are there every time he’s in danger.

[kresnikcest]

uhhh hello. i was recommended xillia 2 as a cool (background) sibling relationship and pointed to your blog specifically, and i've been scrolling through your posts but i have absolutely no idea what's going on lmaoo ;-; uh. please, please don't feel pressured to if you're too busy or tired or just don't want to, but could you possibly direct me to some starting resources 👉👈

.......... i thought it was kaira but it was actually @asphaltaxismundi who recced me and x2 omg thanks <3 (i have also heard good things about FMA 2003, it's on my list for whenever i fall out of love with X2, but i third it!)

i'm warning you now though x2 is not a media you consume from start to finish because. yeah they're almost entirely built up in Japanese-only side material. if you play the game you'll be pretty disappointed, but the manga's English translation is incomplete... hhhhhhh

so i'm just gonna write you an abridged recap of them and if you're still interested i'll collect all the links to the translated stuff... be warned, this is LONG. i have so many feelings about them.

Ludger is 20, Julius is 28, Ludger's memory of things is that Julius raised him. They live together in an apartment in the big city with their cat, Rollo.

Ludger admires the hell out of Julius and wants to be just like him and join the company that Julius works for so he can follow in Julius' footsteps. His personality varies across adaptations/player choices, he can be quiet and polite or outspoken and kind of snarky but canonically he does always hold Julius in high esteem, even if he's mad at him for being secretive. And Julius is SO secretive.

Julius is supportive of Ludger and cares a lot for him, and especially adores Ludger's cooking. He's super popular with girls because he's high-key famous, but he's like. brocon of all time. Literally just adores the crap out of Ludger. He's like the archetypal sweet caring protective big brother character tbh.

(manga scans are by blasteriifx and the translation is by flagfighter unless otherwise noted)

(He seems quite stern when you first meet him in this setting, but he's actually like. the SOFTEST--)

I don't want to explain too much about Xillia 2 lore because I assume you just want the fun sibling stuff, but basically, their family is part of a clan of people called the Kresnik clan who can inherit special powers (called the Chromatus) that are necessary for completing what is called "Origin's Trial", and if they fail all humans will die.

The company that Julius works for, Spirius Corporation, is run by a branch of the Kresnik clan, and specifically by Bisley Bakur, Ludger and Julius' father (though Ludger's doesn't know he's their father).

Bisley is making the most concentrated effort to complete the Trial, but the Chromatus is rare (and using it will eventually kill the person) and he's very pragmatic about saving humanity and will do anything and use anyone to do so, including his family, and Julius discovers this eventually just before he meets Ludger which causes him to cut ties with his father and hate him.

(Not necessarily Bisley's fault though, Julius was born when he was 15 years old and the woman who would eventually become his wife, Cornelia, was 22 and his family tutor, so it's pretty much implied Bisley's family were equally pragmatic about things.)

So after Julius' mother dies working on the Trial (Julius eventually comes to believe Bisley sacrificed her, and canon sort of agrees with him), Bisley sleeps with Cornelia's sister Claudia (Ludger's mother), who runs away when she finds out her son will have a Chromatus, leaving behind Julius who she'd mostly been raising in his parents' absence.

One thing I haven't really touched upon is that Julius is fucked up as a kid, especially once Claudia is out of the picture. Having a Chromatus and working on the Trial involves going into alternate universes, and destroying those universes (usually by killing a specific person who's most different to the "real" world), so people who inherit the Chromatus are basically committing a lot of murder… Julius has been doing it since he was 11, and since the company line is "those worlds aren't real", he eventually gets into the mentality of "if the world is going to be destroyed, you can do whatever you want" so he and another teenager start competing to see who can kill the most people in the AU worlds.

Anyway, 13 year old Julius accidentally finds where Claudia and 5 year old Ludger are in hiding, and Claudia freaks out and thinks he's there to take Ludger back to Bisley. It's not even clear if she recognises Julius is her nephew, but she tries to kill him and Julius kills her in self-defence.

(My machine translation this time. Also his hair's the wrong colour, idk why none of the official art ever remembers that Ludger's black hair is dyed as a teenager. he's supposed to have all silver-white hair as a child)

(By the way, Ludger and Julius are half-brothers and cousins. This isn't relevant to anything except it makes their family tree look a little bit fucked up, which I personally find hilarious.)

Ludger gets amnesia from the trauma and no longer remembers his mother or her death. Canon gets questionable around here, but it's pretty universally agreed upon that Julius adopts Ludger so he can take advantage of using Ludger's Chromatus pocketwatch (which will make Julius more powerful).

He doesn't really care for Ludger himself, so they're pretty distant for two years even though Ludger just thinks his big brother is the coolest, but eventually...

You, my half-brother through our father, and my cousin. You who had lost your mother, the only family you had. I spoke to you warmly through the pain, I got close to you, and I took you home with me. I faked our blood ties to take your watch as my own, just so I could make myself stronger. I wasn’t worried at all about the fate of my very young relative. All I wanted was power. It was selfish of me. And still… You had burned your hands, clumsily preparing dinner. You waited for me to come home, looked straight at me and told me “welcome home” with a smile. It changed that awful me.

7 year old Ludger, wanting to make a small show of gratitude and make his brother happy, made a clumsy attempt at cooking. He discovered his brother’s favourite food, and presented him with a tomato dish. Julius had always been cold, but his lips quivered and he smiled, looking as though he was about to cry. Seeing that smiling face, Ludger finally understood that he was needed.

Or as I like to summarise it...

Julius: oh shit this kid loves me

And then he learned morals for him. And how could he not. Look at this sweet child

(flagfighter's translation)

SO. For the next thirteen years they grow pretty close and chill with each other and are wholesome and sweet and it's adorable because Ludger doesn't even have that much of a social life outside of Julius? Like it's mostly unintentional because Ludger needs to befriend the prequel game cast when he's 20, but after he graduates high school he stops talking to the two (2) shortlived high school friends he had and is more worried about...

(my machine translation)

Meanwhile you remember Julius is constantly lying for years and years about all the murder he's doing and that he killed Ludger's mother and Ludger knows NOTHING, he's just spending what free time Julius has off-work being cute and arguing Rollo's diet ;-;

“Only because you keep feeding him canned food when it’s not time for a meal. Don’t you think he’s gotten fat?” Julius picked Rollo up and nuzzled their noses together. “He’s saying you’re fat, but you look perfectly healthy to me, don’t you, Rollo?” “Meow!” “Stop that, if a cat’s fat it’s because of the owner. Do you know how dangerous it is to a cat’s health if they’re overweight, Julius?” Ludger’s lecture continued on, but Julius found his scolding pleasant. He took a sip of coffee and murmured that it tasted good, then diligently listened to his brother’s lecturing.

So Julius has been hiding Ludger's existence from official records to protect him from their father. When Ludger tries to apply to join Spirius, Julius sabotages him and rigs his exam so he'll fail. Ludger is bummed out but accepts that he couldn't make it and eventually gets a different job as a train station cook. Unfortunately on his first day the place gets attacked by terrorists and Ludger ends up meeting Bisley, Bisley sort of gloats to Julius that he knows Ludger exists now, and Julius just decides right then and there to murder him.

The manga adds additional context from Ludger's POV and i adore it for that ;-;

But yes, Julius is canonically ready to just murder the fuck out of their dad right in front of Ludger if it keeps Ludger away from the Trial. Which is already quite delightful... Then Ludger gets unknowingly dropped into an alternate universe where that version of Julius is trying to kill both Bisley and Ludger because Ludger met Bisley and admired him and chose him over Julius...

Anyway, after that, Julius is framed for trying to assassinate the CEO and goes on the run, while Ludger is eventually blackmailed into joining Spirius and using his Chromatus. Julius refuses to explain anything to Ludger and keeps trying to keep him out of things, which Ludger finds frustrating, and Ludger does find out that Julius sabotaged him earlier, but the manga makes it pretty clear that in the end they're both just worried about each other.

(revised machine translation proofread by yume-x-hanabi)

I won't recap the rest of the story, but I'll do a quick note that there's a lullaby Julius hums to Ludger called the Hymn of Proof.

(old not great machine translation but i can't be bothered to open photoshop and fix it)

Which btw in the game Julius describes as "a song about longing to see someone". This scene, btw, is immediately followed by Julius trying to kidnap Elle (the little girl Ludger befriends who is unbeknownst to both of them, Ludger's daughter from an AU world), because he can use her powers. I kind of love it when Julius switches between seeming so fond and sweet and then getting very serious.

But, ultimately Julius just wants Ludger to be happy. When he sees Ludger is desperate to save Elle, he understands that sentiment because he feels the same devotion to Ludger. The manga plays it out a little differently though...

Anyway Julius pretty much disappears from the plot after this point, and eventually returns for the endgame. I mentioned earlier that the Chromatus will kill its users eventually, and Julius is actually secretly dying, and once he dies he will create an AU world and disappear from the "real" world.

And near the end of the game, it's revealed that a specific human sacrifice is needed to reach the Land of Canaan (plot important place to complete the Trial) and stop Bisley and save Elle (who went with Bisley to protect Ludger), and the only options left are Julius or Ludger. Julius, of course, offers his own life, because he's already dying, and encourages Ludger to come and kill him.

Even for the sake of saving the world...

And well. Here I will leave you with the two ways this goes down.

Ludger refuses to kill Julius (bonus: unused dialogue)

Ludger agrees to kill Julius

Both are pretty tragic, but they sort of feed into each other. If Julius dies, the world he creates is a world where everything is peaceful and everyone, even Bisley, is alive, but if you pay attention to the NPC dialogue (not shown in the video) it becomes... very obvious that Ludger is not friends with any of the characters he is in the Prime Dimension, and that this is a world where Elle will never exist, not as Ludger's daughter or in any other form.

Which ties directly into the ending where Julius lives, and he admits a world where Ludger chose him over everything else is 'maybe' the world he wanted too.

And it FUCKS ME UP SO MUCH that Julius never ever EVER makes that known? Yes it's known he adores Ludger yes he tries to take Elle from Ludger (ultimately for pragmatic reasons, he needs Elle's specific powers, but I wouldn't say he's not not jealous that she's proof Ludger will leave him) but given he immediately changes his mind when Ludger is so attached to her he's willing to risk his life for her, Julius is NOT openly possessive over Ludger and that makes me lose my mind. Like deep deep down he does want Ludger all to himself but, consciously? What's more important to him is Ludger's happiness.

Meanwhile Ludger... loves his friends, certainly loves Elle, and it's easy to forget because Julius is so rarely relevant in the main story, but Julius is also so important to him. He didn't even want to leave Julius as an adult. Even if he agrees to kill him, it's devastating...

There is also a story parallel I didn't touch upon, which is Elle's father, the alternate version of Ludger. He also murdered his friends to protect his daughter from Bisley (who wanted to use Elle to save their world), but he also murdered his version of Julius, and years later he can say that in the end Julius only cared about protecting Ludger. It's uncertain because Victor isn't a very reliable narrator, but you can pretty clearly see where the parallels are that, Ludger can do pretty horrible things to protect the people he loves, and Julius can supersede Ludger's happiness in favour of keeping him alive.

(Mind you, X2 literally ripped me away from the depths of my SPN obsession and has now surpassed the length of time that my SPN rennaissance lasted, so I did initially go into X2 thinking Julius was perhaps controlling and Ludger wanted his own space, except... no... and it's devastating...)

But then we get the little fun bits of Bad Ending Ludger's thoughts and the guidebook summary and the staff commentary and the music that plays being called "the bond more important than anything else"...

I am so normal about them. They love each other so much.

I know you were specifically asking about sibling stuff but, yeah Xillia 2 all around is so good for non-romantic "I'm gonna murder people to save the person I love" feelings. Which is why if you looked at my recent posts it's not actually about the brothers 😂

anyway if you actually got to reading all this rambling you could maybe... reach out to me again... and i'll yell some more about them with actual sources and better explanations...

[rainbowcarousels]

2 & 7 for the sting in the way you kiss me and 8 & 14 for shelter (my beloved 🤧💕)

the sting in the way you kiss me

What’s my favorite part of the fic? That it is exactly four thousand words? More seriously, I think it's the part where Lestat finds Nicolas saying he believes in him to be something sweet, something romantic but from Nicki's perspective, it's like admitting something terrible. The fic only explores it from Lestat's more hopeful perspective, but I feel like I captured Nicki's shadow over it pretty well.

From his perspective, in a relatively short time, Nicki has lost his faith in God, his understanding of what he ought to do in life, fallen in love with an impoverished baby aristocrat who alternates between despair at the darkness of the world and finding so much hope in desire, in love, then come to Paris where he can't get hired by any serious orchestra because he started learning too late to be at the same level even though he's talented but Lestat, the person who's barely stepped on a stage before people send their devotion to him, is having a meteoric rise.

Lestat's story is aspirational, he's going to be something amazing and Lestat says oh it's only a matter of time, you'll get hired by somewhere amazing, we'll tour the world and everything will be wonderful and a part of him believes that and it's just drowned out by the reality that such things are really only possible for Lestat with his looks, his charisma, his talent - Nicki's shortfall is in learning, in experience and the way he experiences hope that is drowned out by rational thought is painful for him. Lestat doesn't understand that, he just see's him putting himself down and putting Lestat on some kind of pedestal when Lestat just knows they'll make it if they try hard enough. It's one of the most interesting dynamics for me to write.

Were there any major decisions I made about the fic that could have made it go a whole different direction?

Only the sexual position changed, otherwise it's exactly as it was intended to do. Originally I wanted to use fire, explore burning touch as a 'playing with fire' thing but I realised it's Lestat, let's eroticise the weeping instead!

shelter

Was there anything I only learned about the fic after I had finished it? (themes, motifs, symbolism, etc)

That there is an underlying theme of 'what if I can't give you what you need'/'what if I'm not what you want'. In Armand's case, his need is of an unconditional love and a desire for someone or something that will not willingly leave him. His experience of that was his biological family and the boys. So the difficulty in wanting that and not being sure if everyone else does is really hard. There's also Daniel who's afraid of the idea that he's going to be shit at it, kids were a Normal thing and he very much did not want Norman things but also he can't really give Armand something and he's so used to being able to that not being so makes him a little neurotic. It's been so much of his life to give him anything he wants as an act of love.

There's Lestat who is afraid he can't run away and is afraid of staying. Normally there is a point where he pulls away and this family is an anchor, he can't pull away, he has to engage and deal with it instead. If he can't do that effectively and is found wanting, that is terrifying for him. Then Louis who is of course afraid he won't be able to differentiate family now to his family with Claudia and that it could be a disservice to her or he'll compare them unfavourably. That this is with Armand too and his role in Claudia's death really hammers home that he hasn't dealt with a lot of it yet, nor has Lestat.

Ultimately it might be biological but there is an active choice to choose to be a family and work at it for all for them, to not let insecurity get in the way of feeling happy and loved. They just need a kick up the ass in the form of it involving innocent-if-bitey kiddos so it doesn't seem entirely selfish for those with some guilt complexes (Louis and Armand in different ways) or because compassion is part of their love language (both Lestat and Daniel).

If I were to write a sequel to this fic, what would it be about?

You already know this but probably a fathers day thing. Love is not less complicated just because little brains are underdeveloped so trying to relate to tiny people while also being so outside of the norms is an interesting one. I love the idea of exploring just normal every day things but the vampire twist because they don't eat (like the dolls at the doll cafe), it has to be at night (the playgrounds must be so weird at like 10pm with just them and probably Lestat also having a go on the slide, maybe Armand would like to swing, he does seem to like the height) and trying to figure out how to attend teachers meetings. I think it's just walking this line between humanity and not that is really interesting, with love connecting the two.

Also probably something heavier on the spiciness, the physical connection and scents and desire really plays into the universe so I probably that.

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 7

This is a CHONKY BOI. THE BACHELOR 'PARTY' IS HERE PEOPLE.

This is by far my longest chapter and I had most of it written before I even posted the second chapter of this story. Makes me SOOO happy how pumped all of you are to read this, it has taken over my life. Keep messaging! Keep sending me asks! 💖

Would love to do little drabbles, memories - anything to do with these two (except spoilers of course)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: TW: INFIDELITY 👀 Angst, yearning, kissing, **18+ [no minors] SMUT** p in v (sex wrap it up) Oral, F & M receiving, language (Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Prev Part Playlist

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Age 28:

“I just love her, I love her so much and there’s nothing I can do.” He was drunk and in a bad way.

“I know Fish, it’s tough from here but maybe when you get back you can talk to her.” He knew Pope was trying to make him feel better, but when he’d spoken to his mom earlier in the week and he’d heard that she was seeing someone- it had broken his heart.

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting - she’d never promised anything but he had this hope that she’d wait for him. That she’d be there to greet him with the love he’d always craved from her.

“She’s with someone else, I just want her to want me.” If he kept going down this road he was going to cry. He couldn’t cry here. Not in this bar and not when it was crawling with other soldiers.

“I think you should just talk to her when you get home, Fish - things might change when you see her again. Or do the grown up thing, and move on.” He looked at him, regret and heartbreak on his face.

“There’s no one like her.” He said it more to himself than Pope but he heard it all the same.

There was a pretty girl walking over to him now, a shy smile on her face.

“Hi - I’m Claudia - can I buy you a drink?” She wasn’t Spills, but she was very pretty.

-------------------

**Present Day**

The week leading up to the wedding was a blur. It simultaneously flew and crawled by. Schrodinger's week.

The dinner was coming up and with it a curious feeling was settling itself in your stomach. A strange mixture of desperation and acceptance. The acceptance told you that if Francis wanted to get married then you should keep your mouth shut and let him get on with his life.

The desperate, possessive part of you reminded you that he was your perfect match, that you shouldn’t let Claudia have him when he so obviously belonged to you. How would you accomplish that though? How could that be done without him hating you for ruining his wedding?

When you were sitting in the restaurant surrounded by the wedding party both those thoughts plagued you. They kept you quiet and pensive, present, but secluded within your own mind as they fought for dominance.

Benny sat next to you like always and you got the sense he was gearing up to make a move and you didn’t exactly know how to feel about it. Your mind was battling over that too.

Do I go out with him and try to get over Francis? Or do I turn him away, and keep pining over a soon to be married man? Choices.

Claudia was almost trembling with excitement, everything she said, everything she did was grating. It all irritated you and you felt the need to dampen her spirits. A malicious little part of you wanted to bring her down a peg. Maybe it was her attitude at the Bridal store. Maybe it was just plain old mean-spirited jealousy. With the dinner almost up, with the bachelor party still to come you couldn’t help it.

It was like a compulsion. The words crawled up your throat and the possessive, angry part of you had to spit them out.

“Oh my God Francis, remember our pact?” Your face was a mask of innocence - just reminiscing with an old friend.

Frankie’s expression changed then, from the same tentative joy he’d been wearing all night to something forced and fake.

“Barely.” His eyes were boring into you, the intensity seemed to be demanding you to shut up about it. While everyone else was still relaxed and unaware of the land mine you’d stepped on, you saw the look Pope was giving you, he knew.

“What pact?” Claudia asked with a breezy laugh.

“It’s silly really-” Frankie cut you off.

“It’s nothing, just bullshit we talked about when we were kids.” He tried to smooth it over with her but she didn’t like that. She sensed his hesitation and when Pope tried to engage them in conversation she challenged him.

“If it’s nothing, then Spills can tell me.” It was said with a bitter sweetness, she had seen through his avoidance and she wasn’t interested.

“Well, when we were in our early twenties - Francis and I decided to make a marriage pact.” You were smiling as though it was nothing and Claudia laughed along with you but you heard the edge in it. She wasn’t amused, and neither was Frankie.

“See honey? It was dumb. Just something dumb kids do when they don’t know any better.” He pulled her close but you could see the stiffness in the way she held herself. You didn’t expect his words to hurt you like that, and all of a sudden you regretted bringing it up.

What seemed like a good way to rile Frankie up was just a cruel little jab at a relationship that you didn’t belong in. A relationship that would go on despite you; in spite of you. You got quiet after that and you saw that he couldn’t bear to look at you.

The battle in your mind was over, and acceptance had won.

You quietly excused yourself to grab some fresh air, the shame at your ploy to ruin Claudia's night sat in your gut and you felt horrible. This wasn’t how you were raised, despite your feelings about her or Francis it was cruel to do this to her on the night before her wedding.

Fuck, now he’ll leave with her for sure. What have I done?

“Hey - thought I’d find you out here. You okay?” Benny had come out looking for you and you smiled at him.

“I’m okay - just needed a minute away you know?” He sat beside you and you tried to focus on him. On his handsome face, how tall he was. If you’d met him a few years ago you would have been all over him.

“Yeah I get that.” He scooted closer to you, until your legs touched and smiled at you. “Look, I know you’re close to Fish, but I’d really like to take you out.” He blurted out the words and you couldn’t help but let out a surprised oh!

He was smiling and he took your hand in his, he was looking at you intently now, making his move.

He was closing in and for a moment you forgot about your shame, about everything except Benny’s mouth. The kiss was soft, tentative. He was testing the waters with you and it was nice. His hand came up and rested on your face softly. Feather light touches on your cheek with the very tips of his fingers.

Objectively speaking, it was a lovely kiss, but it did nothing for you and he felt it.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your forehead on his and he sighed, the air moving the hair framing your face slightly.

“Don’t be, it was worth a shot.” he smiled sadly and you kissed him on the cheek. You both had your answer. The door slammed, breaking you out of your moment with Benny and you saw the back of Francis’ head as he stalked back inside.

----

He wanted to get drunk. He wanted to punch Benny, he wanted to knock his teeth out. He wanted to walk out there, grab Spills by the back of the head and kiss her until she finally understood what she meant to him.

When they walked in together his guts twisted up with rage, it clawed its way up his throat and instead of lashing out he ordered three shots of liquor to burn it away. He drank them quickly, one after the other.

“You and me, outside. Now.” Pope was dragging him away and he wanted to fight but Claudia was asking him what was wrong and he didn’t have an answer for her. Not one she’d want to hear so he let Pope drag him outside. He could see Spills staring at him and he couldn’t look at her.

“What the fuck are you doing right now?” Pope spoke calmly, but his voice had an edge.

“Drinking. It’s my bachelor party, I’m supposed to get drunk aren’t I?” He was pacing, the rage making him restless.

“Why are you marrying Claudia?” Pope stared at him.

“What are you talking about?” The question stopped him in his tracks.

“Do you think that no one can see it? It’s painfully obvious that you’re nowhere near as in love with her as you should be. You’re hung up on Spills and she’s obviously hung up on you.” He was trying to speak calmly and Frankie was pissed off all over again.

“It doesn’t fucking matter how I feel about her - she’s out here with Benny and I’m getting married tomorrow.” He was spiraling.

How the fuck did I get here?

“She’s out here with Benny, because you’re supposed to be getting married tomorrow. If you want to continue with Claudia I’m not going to get in your way, but get your fucking shit together and control your emotions. Figure out what the fuck you want and remember that Benny isn’t your enemy.” He approached him and clapped his arms onto Frankies shoulders. “Fish, you have to figure out what you want here, make it work with Claudia or let her go - stop this living in between shit. It’s not fair to anyone.” Frankie shook out of his grip, too upset to see reason.

He knew he was wrong, he knew he had no right to react this way but it was too much for him. All the little moments he’d thought they’d shared - what had they meant?

What does it matter? You’re getting married, she isn’t.

He ignored her gaze when he approached their table, Claudia was approaching him.

“You okay babe?” She was approaching him with open arms and he embraced her. Eyes closed - trying to feel something other than anger. He focused on the smell of her hair, on the feeling of being buried into the crook of her neck. She sighed loudly and ran her fingers through his hair, soothing and smoothing it out. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters babe, tomorrow everything will be perfect and we’ll be married.” She was whispering into his ear and it was meant to be reassuring.

He felt nothing.

You’re not her. No matter what you do, you’ll never be her and I have to be okay with that.

“I’m okay babe - see you tomorrow.” He kissed her, really kissed her. Tried to muster up whatever he thought he felt for her before and she responded but it was useless. All he felt was anger; she pulled away smiling and said her goodbyes. He glanced at Spills and the look on her face made him feel ashamed.

“Let’s get fucked up.” He said it with a fake smile plastered on his face and everyone except Pope and Spills cheered.

---

His hostility was astounding. He barely looked at you the whole night and you had a feeling it had to do with Benny’s kiss. You had to talk to him about it, a part of you hoped he’d be jealous and realize that you belonged together but maybe that was all in your head. Maybe he didn’t like his friends dating you, or you dating them but that didn’t make sense. Why would that bother him?

You’re the one getting married to someone else here, you dick.

Will and Benny were keeping up with him but as the night wore on everyone came to the realization that tomorrow would be a very long day if they didn’t quit now but Frankie wanted to keep the party going. He wasn’t belligerent, but he was being more aggressive than you’d ever seen. He told the boys that he wanted to continue drinking when they all got back to his house and they agreed but when you all got there it was obvious that Benny and Will were down for the count.

“I’m going to get these two into bed, can you make sure he’s okay and that he doesn’t get too fucked up?” Pope was herding the brothers into the basement where they’d been staying. He gave you a curious look then, a narrowing of the eyes that screamed talk to him.

---

When you walked into his old bedroom he was sitting on his bed, bottle of alcohol to his lips and you’d had enough.

“Francis that’s enough, you’ve had too much and you’re going to be sick.” You were trying to take the bottle away from him but he was stronger than you and he was in a foul mood.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to pull that shit and then baby me.” His tone was vicious and you pulled back.

“I’m not trying to baby you, you asshole- I'm trying to make sure you’re not hungover for your wedding tomorrow.” He scoffed loudly at your words. “You got something to say Francisco?” You were angry now, his attitude was pissing you off big time. Your question set him off and he unloaded onto you.

“Oh I got plenty to say.” He put the bottle down and towered over you. “You fucked up Spills, you knew how I felt about you this whole fucking time and YOU were the one who shut it down. Making this stupid pact so you would be guaranteed someone who was crazy about you while you went off and did whatever and whoever you wanted and then bring it up in front of everyone like it was a joke.” The anger was burning away the alcohol in his system and there was nothing but raw honesty left. “And now what, you’re going to date my friend? So is it anyone who shows you attention except me?”

The expression on his face was angry, but there was a raw hurt in his voice. An old wound that he was blaming you for opening up.

“I have loved you since I was fucking fourteen, and you never gave a shit. You used me and you kept me dangling on a string but guess what, I am not a last resort. I have found a woman who loves me and you’re going to have to live with that.” The words were knives to your heart because for the most part they were true.

You couldn’t stop the tears at his onslaught of painful truths but underneath the hurt his words caused, you were fucking angry.

“You want to tear into me because I’ve been a fucking idiot fine, have at it, but you do not get to shame me for having a moment with someone who likes me. You’re getting married! Am I supposed to stay celibate and alone for the rest of my life because you gave up on me? I was waiting at the airport to tell you that I love you. That I know I’ve wasted time and that I want you.”

“Gave up on you? Are you fucking kidding me right now? So when I call to see how everyone is doing and I find out that you’re seeing someone - I'm supposed to just know that you’ll figure it out? I have been putting off finding someone in hopes that you’ll finally see how devoted I’ve always been to you. I am so fucking pissed off at you and you want to know what the worst part of it is? The fact that I still fucking love you. Even though I’m hurt and so goddamn angry. Even though I have her and I know she’s head over heels for me, you’re the one in my head. I still love you and seeing you like this is breaking my fucking heart Spills. It should be you I’m marrying tomorrow. It should have always been you.” You could see the tears in his eyes now and that hurt even more.

Every single fibre of your being screamed at you to run to him, to wrap your arms around him. Instead you responded with your own truth.

“I wish it was me tomorrow. I know I couldn’t expect you to wait for me forever but I don’t want anyone else. Benny is sweet but he’s not you Francis.” You were well and truly crying now. Everything you’d been holding in came bubbling up, spilling out of you and there was nothing you could do to stop it, it had to come out.

“I should have kissed you back like I wanted to. I shouldn’t have been afraid, I should have seen it and dealt with my own feelings for you. I’m sorry Francis. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize how perfect we are for each other. I’m sorry I was too late and I’m terrified that you’ll leave me behind and marry her, and that I’ll be here waiting for you forever.” Your voice was cracking and high, barely a whisper at certain points with how hard you were crying.

His legs brought themselves to you in three long strides and then his mouth was on yours. Your tears mixing where your faces touched; pure adrenaline coursing through your veins when his hands buried themselves into your hair. It was nothing compared to the inexperienced albeit enthusiastic kiss you’d shared as teenagers. This was all-consuming. His mouth trapping your bottom lip roughly and biting softly to draw out a whimper. His tongue using the sound as the invitation to plunder the inside of your mouth.

He tasted like honey and alcohol, like the gum he chewed and tiramisu. He tasted like all the things you loved in this world and you never wanted him to stop kissing you.

He trailed his kisses down to the line of your jaw, the long column of your neck and up to the place beneath your ear and all you could do was frantically clutch at his hair.

“We’ve been so stupid Spills, driving me crazy.” He was whispering the words into your neck, his hands a vice grip around your waist.

“I’m sorry Francis, I love you - I love you so much.” The both of you couldn’t get the words out fast enough, fervent breathes as you kissed; both trying to make up for lost time. His wedding in a few hours was forgotten, his fiancé didn’t exist. It was just the two of you in his old bedroom where his first kiss had been denied.

You were rewriting that now.

His hands lowered and grabbed at the flesh of your ass roughly and you moaned into his mouth. He brought his kisses to your neck as he decisively pulled your dress up.

“I’ve been wanting to fuck you for half my life Spills, it was you I thought about while I was away. I would fuck my fist every single fucking night thinking about you letting me taste your pussy.” His eyes were dark with want and you gasped at his words, the alcohol and the honesty making him braver; the words were shooting directly into your cunt, making you weep for him.

“It’s always been you, look at what you do to me, what you’ve always fucking done to me.” He grabbed at your hand roughly and pressed into the sizeable bulge at his crotch. It was hard to form words. It was hard to articulate how you felt now that this was finally happening.

“Will you let me baby? Will you let me bury my tongue in your cunt? I want you to cum all over my face.” He was rubbing at your clit through your panties and it was like you were suspended in amber. Dumbstruck at his words, his confidence - his need for you.

“Yes Francisco, please.” You were gripping his hair frantically as he pushed you onto his bed. His big strong hands pulling your underwear down and tossing it over his shoulder. The same hands pulling your thighs apart to find your slick seeping out of you, all glossy and wet. He moaned at the sight.

“Look at that- so fucking pretty for me.” He made himself comfortable between your legs, grinding into the mattress as he studied your body. He kissed your thighs as he brought his face closer and closer to your clenching core. His facial hair tickling you as he trailed them up up up. You watched him propped up on your elbows, your hands automatically reaching out to run through his hair.

“Bet you taste so fucking good, like peaches.” He ran his finger along your seam, smearing your slick all over your lower lips. He was going too slow. You tried to move your cunt closer to his face but he smiled almost cruelly and held your hips down.

“My greedy girl.” He spread your lips apart and spit into your clit, you felt it sliding down towards your opening but he dove in cat-quick to lap it up before it went further.

His tongue was heaven. You threw your head back as he licked from your opening up towards your clit, over and over. “Eyes on me, I want you to watch me.” It was too much and you whimpered as he let the saliva drip from his mouth and into your clit. Focusing his tongue there, moving it up and down over and over and over. The wet glide of it too much and the string holding your sanity together was too tight, it would surely snap and let you float away soon.

He groaned onto your skin, his eyes steady on you as he slid two thick fingers inside you. Curling them in a way that had you tensing up. He could feel your thighs clenching as he scissored them inside you, stretching you open while his tongue pushed you over the edge. It was too much and when he wrapped his lips around your clit and gave it a long steady suck, you shattered.

He held you down and licked you through it. Lapping up the waves of arousal, drinking you down deep while his fingers pistoned in and out of you with a wet squelch.

You had to push him away.

“You taste so good honey, I wanna eat you for days, until you’re a wet little puddle in my bed.” He crawled up towards your limp body and kissed you roughly, his facial hair irritating your skin but it didn’t matter. Not when you could taste yourself in his mouth, not when he’d made you cum harder than anyone had any right to.

His hands were a blur as he tried to get his jeans down and you helped him. You could see your slick on his fingers, then his jeans and your hip where he held onto you. A little trail of you wherever he touched.

You frantically pulled both his jeans and his boxers down, his cock freed and bobbing between your thighs. You could see the sticky tip of him, angry and red with how hard he was and your mouth watered. You had to taste.

He was surprised when you flipped him over, the startled look on his face quickly replaced with a hungry smile. You took off his jeans and his boxes fully to lay between his legs. You rested your head on the strong muscle of his thigh as you lazily stroked him, the velvety skin of his cock encasing the iron beneath. He watched you with a look of rapture and his breath hitched when you pulled away to scoop some of your own slick from between your legs to make your strokes more fluid.

“You can’t possibly know how many times I’ve imagined this - fuck - give me your mouth baby, please.” He was thrusting up into your hand. You licked a wide stripe from the base of his dick up to the tip, circling it with your tongue. He groaned at the sight of you and he grabbed at the hair at the base of your skull to guide your movements.

You took the tip into your mouth and hollowed your cheeks prettily while he watched you, taking a bit more each time you lowered your head. You were ravenous for him, the soft sounds he was making, the control you had at this moment was intoxicating and it pushed you to take him further.

You took him as far as you could, swallowing around him as your nose brushed up against his curls and the tears leaked out when you let go to take a breath.

“Holy fuck baby, yes - look so fucking hot with my dick in your throat. Let me see you do it again.” He guided you down and you held there as long as you could before you sputtered and coughed, spit and his precum connecting your mouth to his cock.

“Fuck baby - so fucking good, if you do it again I’ll cum…” he left it up to you, taking his hand away from your hair and as tempted as you were to watch him come apart in your mouth your cunt was achingly empty and you needed him inside you.

“Next time you can cum in my mouth or on my face, wherever you want, right now I need you to fuck me.” You crawled up and he kissed you, he was frantic and he licked the spit off your lips and it was so primal you moaned. You found yourself on your back again and he was holding your thighs open while he rubbed his length through your folds.

“I’m going to cum inside you. I’m going to pump you full of me, fuck it into you. I wanna see it dripping out of you when I’m done.” He was lining himself up and when he slid in all the way, everything was right in the world. This was how it was supposed to be, the thick stretch of him was perfect, you were so fucking full - your cunt, your heart - every part of you.

“God baby, you’re so tight and wet - feels so fucking good.” He was speaking into your mouth and all you could do was wrap your arms and legs around him. Incoherent whimpers and sounds spilling out of your mouth with his movements. Sweat was beading on his brow, his fingers traced your hairline almost tenderly. His movements are equal parts filthy and loving.

His thrusts were hard and fast, not being able to control himself. You heard the wet, obscene sound of them and it made you wetter. You raised your legs higher, bracketing his ribs while he snapped his hips.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, love you - let me love you.” His words were curt and he wasn’t going to last long so you yanked the straps of your dress down. He leaned onto one arm, reaching down to rub perfect circles onto your clit while he took your nipple into his mouth. Your orgasm crashed into you out of nowhere and he groaned when he felt you clenching.

He brought his hand back up to grab at your hip roughly for more leverage while he fucked into you two, three - four more times before he was spilling into you.

He made good on his promise. He fucked his cum into you. A couple more shallow thrusts even though he was too sensitive and he watched himself do it.

“Look so fucking pretty like that, all puffy and full of my cum.” He watched as it slid out of you and down your ass onto the bedding.

Is this what I’ve been missing out on? Francisco Morales; sex god.

You were too blissed out to move but he went to work, taking off the rest of his clothes and then stripping you of yours. It was difficult to articulate how you felt in that moment, on the one hand this was everything you had wanted. The sex had been amazing, he didn’t just fill your body - he filled every single ounce of you. Your heart swelled when he tucked you into his side and covered the two of you with his blanket.

On the other hand, the postcoital bliss was wearing off and the implications of what had transpired was a weight growing in the pit of your stomach.

Your body and heart wanted to soar; a kite flying higher and higher. Your conscience was the string, and it was being shortened fast. He loved you, he still loved you even though he was engaged and he’d been thinking of you the whole time. You wanted to cry with happiness; with guilt as well.

The guilt was present, reminding you consistently that this man was supposed to be getting a good night’s rest for his wedding tomorrow. Instead the two of you were laying in bed, curled around each other. His spend slowly seeping out of you.

It was hard to focus on it though, especially when his skin was so warm under your cheek. When his hand rubbed at your arm and your legs were a tangle underneath the blanket. You couldn’t help but reach up and run your fingers through the hair matted on his forehead and he made it even harder when he captured the same hand and pressed kisses to your fingers. He broke the silence before you could though.

“I’m still pissed off at you.” He had a dreamy look on his face despite his words.

“I know. I’m pissed off at me too.” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. The scent of his body-wash mixing with his own sweat. You couldn’t get enough and he curled himself into you as you ran your fingers through his hair. Your hands are constantly moving, touching every bit of each other you could.

“We’ve wasted so much fucking time Spills.” There was a deep sadness in his voice, it sliced into you because you knew he was right.

“I know Francis, I’m sorry it took me so long.” You were scratching at the wiry hairs on his cheek, trying to map out the face you loved so much. He sighed loudly. “What's going to happen tomorrow?”

“I don’t know - part of me thinks I should pack up the truck, throw you in the back and drive away. Another part of me wants to forget this whole thing happened and follow through on the commitment I made.” He wasn’t holding back with his words or feelings and although they hurt you couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do. You kept quiet, at the end of the day the decision was his. “I have to tell her the truth. I have to tell her that we did this, I cannot show up there tomorrow and pretend like I didn’t.”

You could see the guilt on his face now, the implications dawning on him a little later than they had for you. He scrubbed at his face with his hand and groaned.

“How can I just break her heart like this?” He was spiralling. “She doesn’t deserve this.” You felt like an intruder then, suddenly the closeness wasn’t there, he was pulling away from you emotionally if not yet physically.

“What do you want to do Francisco?” The use of his full name snapped him out of his train of thought and he looked at you then.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you in confusion, as you pulled away from him reluctantly.

“I know it took me way too long to get to this point, and you have every fucking right to hate me. If you tell me now that you want to make it work with her I’ll support your decision. I’ll keep my mouth shut and we can pretend this never happened. I would do that for you because I love you, and I will no matter what. You tell me what you want to do.” The tears were coming down your face as you said the words and as much as it hurt to get them out you meant them.

You couldn’t stay here - you wanted him to make his choice without influence and he said nothing as you quickly dressed and walked out of his room, instead you lay on the couch in the living room, crying softly to yourself. Sleep was nowhere in sight and in a few hours, you’d know for sure what would happen.

----

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[magniloquent-raven]

so there's this post @draculcid made a lil while ago that i thought was fuckin ADORABLE, and i wrote a thing. that sat in my drafts for a while lol, but here is the finished product, pls enjoy

--

if asked, he honestly couldn't say how he ended up being holly wheeler's babysitter. something to do with steve mentioning to claudia, who mentioned to karen, that billy has a lot of free time lately, and the next thing he knows he's being cornered at melvald's and strong-armed into spending afternoons with the least bratty wheeler child.

ever since she got her new job and apartment and shit, she's needed someone to pick holly up from school, and apparently billy counts as a qualified adult.

the couple hours he has to spend watching the kid aren't awful, holly's alright, but the five minutes of small talk when mrs.wheeler gets back is always awkward as hell. she tries painfully hard to be polite and he hates it.

but he needs the money. it was either this or waiting tables at the 24hr diner, and, shockingly, he's actually more qualified for the babysitting gig.

maybe he's not dad material or anything, but he manages. he had fun bossing the aqua tots around last summer, while it lasted. the young ones are easier to deal with.

though it's truly exhausting sometimes. on the days when his scars ache and it's more noticeable than ever that he isn't as strong as he used to be because he has to keep putting holly down even though he promised her a piggy-back ride.

but on those days he calls steve, because steve is a goddamn blessing.

steve always has pizza money and he lets holly put glittery clips in his hair—something billy doesn't do anymore, not after she got one tangled so deep in his curls he had to go home with it still in there—and he's a good sport when she wants to play pretend.

today she wanted to play house. billy's not entirely sure what that means but it's keeping the kid happy and steve looks ridiculously adorable in the stupid apron she made him wear, so.

billy though, billy likes to think he still has some dignity left, so he's busying himself cleaning up the mess of lego on the living room floor while steve makes an invisible sandwich for holly.

but then holly says, in her quiet little voice, "is daddy coming home now?" and billy pauses, stops with his hand hovering awkwardly in midair and his heart hammering.

he glances at her out of the corner of his eye. awkward conversations about the fact that her mom and dad are divorced now, and what that all means, are definitely not supposed to be part of his babysitting duties.

how would that conversation even go? he's pretty sure she knows about the separation, she has to, she moved away without her dad, they had to have told her something, but—

"i think she means you, big guy," steve supplies, with barely contained amusement.

ah. right. playing house.

he mentally shakes himself, and drops the lego bin on the coffee table before shuffling over to join steve and holly by the little plastic kitchen set. steve is smirking at him, way to smug for the guy who's wearing a frilly apron.

billy plops on the carpet next to steve. "honey, i'm home," he says dryly.

it takes about fifteen minutes for him to completely forget about feeling weird about it all.

in fact, it's disturbingly easy to slip into his role, making moon-eyes at steve and pretending it's because he's acting. he's been careless lately. letting his feelings get all over the place. he never was that subtle around steve, but the weird domesticity of babysitting a kid together gets in his head.

like when steve pokes fun at his make-belief dish washing skills and it's somehow not embarrassing. and it just does things to billy's stupid heart because it doesn't realize they aren't actually married.

"shut up," billy mutters, softly, too soft, warm and not at all threatening. he should feel off-balance but he doesn't.

"is that any way to talk to your wife?" steve can barely say it without grinning.

his big dumb sunshine-y grin is probably what fried billy's brain enough for him to respond with, "aw, sorry, baby," a little too sweetly to be serious, and then—

it's over before he even realizes what he's doing. and he's left sitting there, leaning into steve's space, looking into steve's eyes, wide with shock, searching billy's face, still inches away because steve hasn't moved or reacted or...

"claire from art class says boys aren't supposed to kiss each other," holly whispers.

billy jerks backward, ending up a foot further from steve than he was before, trying to pretend his heart isn't racing and he isn't struggling to breathe, and his goddamn lips aren't tingling with the phantom sensation of steve's mouth pressed to his, breath mingling, a soft sound just...

he curls his fingers into the carpet at his sides and stares, unseeing, at a stain on the knee of his jeans.

before he can even fathom saying a damn word, steve cuts in with a vehement, "claire from art class is full of shit," and billy startles, turning to look at him. there's a set to his jaw and a spark of something in his eye, determined and steady despite the flush on his cheeks.

it's a really inconvenient moment for billy to get distracted by how fucking gorgeous steve is.

holly lets out a nervous giggle. "steeve...that's a swear."

"ah, fu—uhh...um. right." steve pushes his bangs away from his face and sighs. a couple locks stick out awkwardly when his hand falls away, and it makes billy's fingers itch. "listen, holly. it's not nice to tell people they aren't allowed to love someone—"

"you and billy are in love?" she gasps, her eyes huge and round, flicking between the two of them.

steve turns impossibly pinker, mouth opening and closing silently. billy's heart leaps.

he bites his lip, holding back a smile and trying to stamp down on the bubbling, hopeful warmth in his chest. he needs to do something. right now. something other than stare at steve. he runs a hand down his face, blows out a breath, and tries to get his shit together.

"alright, holly, steve here is gonna make us some hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows, and you are gonna forget this ever happened, deal?"

she glances between billy and steve with a furrowed brow. "and a piggyback ride?"

billy snorts. "sure, kid, whatever you want."

she grins, suddenly, and nods. "okay."

"billy, you sure you're feeling up to that?" steve murmurs. when billy turns to look at him he's a lot closer than expected. his breath catches, the irritated retort on the tip of his tongue evaporates.

"yeah, i..." his gaze wanders down a little, touching, briefly, on steve's mouth before he snaps his eyes back upward. "i'm fine."

steve's hand inches towards his on the carpet between them, fingertips brushing billy's knuckles. holly's staring at them, billy can see her out of the corner of his eye. the scrutiny is setting his teeth on edge but he doesn't pull away. "just. don't push yourself, okay?"

billy scoffs. "yeah, yeah."

and then steve kisses his cheek.

fucking. kisses his cheek.

he doesn't linger, he's sauntering off to the kitchen before billy can even fucking blink. it's brief enough that billy wonders if he imagined the sudden warm pressure of steve's lips against his skin, the way steve's eyes were all lit up and fond and just that little bit defiant, like he was daring billy to say something about it.

they'll talk about it, he's sure. later. billy's a horrifying mix of ecstatic and absolutely terrified. he's shit at talking about his feelings, and so is steve. it's going to be a goddamn shitshow, but...

but still. he has a good feeling about it.

holly's even quieter than usual when she scoots over to sit next to billy, "you love steve?"

"thought we were gonna forget about that, wheeler." he glances down at her. there's nothing but innocent curiosity on her face. he sighs. bites his lip. "...yeah. yeah i do."

[beatricethecat2]

"Chill for a minute! You're making me nervous," Myka says.

"I'll not miss the performance because of a third-rate watchman," Helena huffs.

"Abigail said she'd sort this out."

"Abigail got us into this."

"She didn't slug him."

"He tackled me."

"You grabbed the book and ran."

"And I'd have succeeded were it not for that wandering child," Helena gruffs. "Who brings a child to theater?"

"You wouldn't have brought Christina?"

"Were she old enough and properly dressed, yes. That child was in dungarees."

"They probably came to see the exhibition not the matinee—"

"We're not dressed properly either," Helena grumbles, swiping dirt off a pant leg.

"Theater's not as formal as it used to be. And you did put your hair up," Myka says, flashing a feeble smile.

"And now it's mussed. It wasn't much to look at to begin with." Helena fusses with her bun.

"Hey, I think you look really nice," Myka says, reaching over, stilling Helena's hands.

"This is hardly theater attire."

"It's the Oregon Shakespeare Festival not the Met Opera."

"Attending the theater used to mean something." Helena's hands drop to her lap.

"It still does, but not corsets and gowns." Myka raises a brow. "Would you have worn a dress if this was a real date?"

"I very well may have. I'd certainly have made more of an effort."

"A nineteenth or twenty-first century effort?

"May I not embody both?"

"Yeah, but I'm just noticing you sort of default to the nineteenth when you're around me."

"And you disapprove."

"No. It think it's kind of sweet. I like that you don't have to hide who you are with me." Myka bumps her shoulder into Helena's.

"And to think, I once yearned to live in a future such as this. I'd no clue how exhausting it'd be being out of time."

"It'll get easier," Myka says, meeting Helena's unsure gaze. She leans towards Helena and Helena follows suit, their lips nearly touching when a door slamming in the distance halts the action.

"So, um...when's the last time you saw Shakespeare?" Myka asks, recomposing herself.

Helena thinks back. "Hamlet, in Stratford; Sarah Bernhardt as lead. We'd travelled specifically to see her, as it was unusual for a woman to play a male's part. She was her bombastic self, but watching Shakespeare translated into French was odd. I may have opinions about the American accent as well."

"Oh you will."

"Flipping through those gravures on display really took me back. Then the cabinet cards...are you familiar with those actors?"

"No."

"Such a shame," Helena says, pushing up from her slouch to sit upright.  "Ellen Terry, she who worked so very hard to elevate the acting profession for women and men; Lillie Langtree, the beauty who pulled her reputation up from the mud through her craft; Violet Vanbrugh, locked in competition with her sister for the spotlight...celebrities, one and all, yet seeing them now, they feel like lost friends." 

Helena sighs deeply and looks away. "When I snatched the book, my mind was no longer present. Hence the guard getting a jump on me."

"It's going to work out," Myka says, flashing a comforting smile.

"How exactly is Abigail remedying this? I heard little of your hushed conversation earlier," Helena says, narrowing her eyes at Myka.

"She's convincing them to put it back so we can swap it with a copy she's sending."

"Could she not have done so previously?"

"With Artie out of town, she's scrambling to keep up."

"How exactly is she convincing them?"

"She's, um..." Myka looks down at her lap and adjusts her wrist watch. "Do you actually need to know?"

"I do now," Helena says, swerving in her seat to face Myka.

"She's posing as your therapist."

"And I'm a babbling idiot."

"No...our pitch is you're obsessed with Victoriana."

"Convenient," Helena grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do you want to see the play or not?"

"What do you think?"

"I think we wouldn't be here at all if Abigail hadn't asked us to snag volume nine of 'The Illustrated Library of Shakespeare.' And I think she'll fix this for now so we can see a play like two normal people who see plays. We'll worry about the book tomorrow."

Helena's scowl stays firmly in place.

"I'll make it up to you tonight at the hotel," Myka says, eyes pleading.

"Placating me for performing the Warehouse's bidding is not in the least desirable—"

"Ooh, look, he's coming out," Myka says, patting Helena's leg as she rises to talk to the head of security. "Stay here."

Helena stays put but her scowl grows all consuming.

-END SCENE-

------------------

Bering and Wells: Field Trip ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 7 Title: Oregon: To one thing constant never

Summary: With Warehouse staff stretched thin, Myka and Helena are asked to dash from Myka's parents to The Oregon Shakespeare Festival. The pickup hits a snag when Helena, lost in memories, bungles the retrieval. Emotions run high when Helena reveals an unshakable impulse that threatens their newfound bliss.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6

------------------

BONUS SCENE

The next day, in the parking in the lot of the festival, freshly off the phone from the Warehouse, Myka turns to Helena.

"Artie's booking us a flight. He wants us to bring the book in person—"

"We are not altering our plans again," Helena sneers. "He can pick it up from us."

"I think he needs it sooner," Myka mumbles. "It'll be quick, just a day or two. Maybe we can push our bookings up?"

"As if that's worked in the past."

"True," Myka says, shoulders slumping as she sighs defeatedly. "Then we'll skip Mendocino and head straight to San Francisco from there. I'll grab some of my stuff since we might stay in the city longer." She turns the key, revving the car to life.

"I'll drive to Mendocino and meet you in San Francisco. You go on to the Warehouse."

"But Artie said you can come," Myka explains, looking over her shoulder, backing out of their parking spot. She puts the car in drive and moves towards the exit.

"There's no reason for me to do so."

"But you haven't met Abigail. Or Steve, really. Plus Claudia's dying to see you—"

"Myka, I can't."

Myka steps on the brake and turns to face Helena. "Is this a Regent thing? Because Artie wouldn't have said you could come if you couldn't."

"It's not a Regent thing."

"Then what?" Myka huffs.

"We've not time to discuss this now."

"Then tell me the abbreviated version."

A honk from behind jolts them both.

"Alright, alright!" Myka grumbles, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"You go on. I'll follow our plan," Helena says. "I wish to feel the land shifting underfoot, as if Elizabeth, Christina, and I had made our way through California in my own day."

"Wouldn't that have been on a train? Or a carriage maybe?" Myka asks.

"Is a car not the modern equivalent?"

"I guess," Myka says, her face the picture of concern. "You know, most of San Francisco was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake. There's not much left from back then."

"No matter. It's the spirit in which it's encountered."

"Then I want to 'encounter' it with you."

"Then have them pick the book up from us. You're not obligated to obey their every beck and call."

"I guess not," Myka says, frowning as she stops at a red light.

"Their prerogative led us to rush here, waylaying our plans," Helena presses.

"And the plays."

"Which we may have seen, in our own time, had we not been browbeaten into a retrieval—"

"We weren't browbeaten, we were helping Abigail—"

"The light's green."

"I see that," Myka grumps, the car jerking forward as she presses on the gas too hard. "So that's why you won't come with me? You're mad we came here in the first place?"

"It more than that. My relationship with the Warehouse must remain distant. Better if I retain none at all."

"How exactly is that going to work? Because I live there."

"I'd rather not discuss this while you're driving."

"Then I'll stop." Myka flips her turn signal and veers left at an intersection. She swings into a parking lot turns off the engine. "You said I'm your One. That we're partners."

"You are both of those things to me."

"But you can't come to the Warehouse, maybe ever? Explain." Myka shifts in her seat to face Helena as fully as possible.

"I've come to understand distance may be the only remedy for certain...triggers."

"What triggers?"

"Where to start?"

"Anywhere, really," Myka gruffs, holding onto Helena's petulant gaze.

"A hundred years in bronze weighs heavy on one's soul."

"You were fine there before."

"Was I?"

"You said it was your tether!"

"I'd have said anything to—"

"Gain access, dupe everyone, and destroy the world. I know." Myka scowls. "But you wouldn't do that again."

"That's no longer my vice," Helena says.

"Then what is?"

Helena looks off into the distance. "A secondary plan, utilizing artifacts catalogued since my bronzing."

"W-What kind of plan?" Myka says, her back straightening.

"One in which Christina would be returned to me."

"Wait, you tried again when you were there?"

"How could I not?" Helena laments. "I've hatched countless schemes since."

"But you said you'd made peace with not having kids."

"Moving forward. But I may never find true peace with Christina's passing. Apparently, it's not uncommon."

"How do you know?"

"At the precinct, after particularly gruesome cases, they conducted psychological evaluations. I'd breezed through most, but one in particular, concerning the death of a little girl, was difficult to shake."

"Oh, Helena." Myka scoots forward and takes hold of Helena's hand. "What happened?"

"I recounted my story, albeit heavily modified, and learned about triggers. Avoiding them entirely was an acceptable solution, so the Warehouse...but you? You were a conundrum."

"I was a trigger, too." Myka slips her hand from Helena's but Helena grabs it back.

"You remained a symbol of hope, of all that was good in this world. I ached to be near you but feared disappointing you again. When you turned up in Montreal, I was drumming up the courage to approach you."

"But you weren't there yet."

"I wasn't," Helena says, squeezing Myka's hand. "Asking you to separate yourself from your home, from your calling, was difficult to justify. But after hearing of your illness, nothing else mattered but being by your side."

Helena cups Myka's jaw and strokes her cheek with a thumb. "But I must protect myself, and you, from those demons."

Helena shifts closer and guides their lips together. Their kiss lingers until Myka's phone rings.

"Artie," Myka says, answering in an instant. "We can't come. We'll keep the the book safe until someone can pick it up—"

Myka moves the phone away from her ear at Arties loud volume.

"Ok, ok! But H.G.'s not coming. Put me on a flight."

Myka places her hand over the microphone and glances at Helena. "He said Mrs. Frederic's there and 'needs it yesterday'—"

She's interrupted by Artie chiming in.

"I'm not taking a flight with two connections because it leaves tonight! Put me on a red eye."

Grumbling emanates from the other side of the phone.

"Five-thirty's fine. Send me the details."

More grumbling, then silence. Myka hangs up the phone.

"Artie seems his usual congenial self—"

"I'm really proud of you," Myka blurts, turning to face Helena again.

"Whatever for?" Helena asks, head tilting, brow furrowing.

"For fighting your demons on your own. Though I wish we'd been doing it together."

"From now on, we shall," Helena says, meeting Myka halfway as she leans in for another kiss.

Hands reach across the console, twining in hair, groping at necks, arms, shoulders, as if the space between them is too great.

Minutes later, a tap on the window jerks them apart.

"Ma'ams, bank won't open again until 9AM," a man says as Helena rolls down the window. "I'm going to have to ask to come back tomorrow."

"Bank?" Myka croaks, scanning the parking lot, eyes locking on a glowing sign at its entrance. "Oh, bank."

"Terribly sorry officer. We pulled over to take a call before becoming...distracted," Helena explains.

"Just a security guard, ma'am. But I'd appreciate it if you move on. I didn't want to disturb you but my manager's going to wonder why you were here so long."

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. We'd have been stealthier were anything afoot," Helena says with a wink.

"Helena!"

"Just reassuring the boy."

"We didn't mean to....we were just..." Myka stumbles over a more direct explanation.

"We've been granted one more night together before our separation."

"But we do have a hotel room."

"And mere hours before I'm to deliver you to the airport."

"True." Myka's lips push together, her face contorting into one of a new understanding. "Not enough hours. We should go."

"Thank you again for accommodating us," Helena says to the security guard.

"Um, sure?" he says as Helena rolls up the window.

"We'll make this work," Myka says, slipping a hand over Helena's thigh as she drives away. "I know we can."

"I adore your enthusiasm," Helena says, covering Myka's hand with her own, threading their fingers together.

-END-

-TBC-

NOTES: A quick reminder - this Christina is the daughter of Helena's original "One" back in the 1800's - Elizabeth. I think that story is in the second installment of this series. Also note this text probably pretty rough as I'm out of town and have sporadic internet (remember DSL?) and so haven't been able to use my usual text checkers (let me know if anything's super bad!) I'm putting it up now so I won't fuss over it as I'd like to not fuss over *anything* this week. Also, the first manip is one of my favorites - there's only one I can think of that tops it, but it's not public yet (I think you'll know when you see it.) Anyway, here are some of the people HG mentioned. And here are some of the amazing panoramas of the SF earthquake. Also Sarah Bernhardt - look her up, she was *quite* the character.

[youwontlikethisblog]

Betty! My Betty.

Two post in a day, or window of twenty four hours!

Finally we make it to the day of the new collection launch.

Now in the previous post I wrote I made note that we had established that Armando trusted, unwavering, Betty. He knew of her fidelity and trusted her for it.

He questioned her but, by the time she leaves he quits his show of being mad at her and asked Mario what he thought of what she had said.

Now I want to add some points here that discribe and prove my theory that Armando was already having feelings outside of work related feelings towards Betty.

1) When Mario tells Armando that Marcela has no idea who she's talking to we know he means that Betty is the owner of Eco Moda, therefore she shouldn't be yelling at her but Armando thinks otherwise as he tells him "I know! She's my guardian angel!" which once more proves that Armando wasn't mistrusting of Betty and his concern was with how Betty treats him and how she is with him, unconditional.

2) When Mario starts with his paranoia again Armando defends her, defends his trust, and lets us all know that he would never doubt Betty nor her unconditionality and fidelity.

3) That day Armando behaved differently towards Betty.

We've all at some point in middle or high school gone to google and searched "how to tell that he likes me." and the very obvious answers in every post is that he finds excuses to be near you, finds excuses to touch you, blah blah blah, and very cliché this begins to happen. I already had my theory that as the show progressed to this point of the story that Armando found excuses to touch Betty such as when he starts to rub her shoulders as he is telling her that he's very aware of her loyalty and all she does for him, hugging her, to then asking her to stay in meetings, being confused when she doesn't sit next to him whereas before Betty could sit anywhere in the meeting room that wasn't near him (don't quote me on this I didn't pay much attention to the first few episodes because I was zoned out most of the time)and he didn't care. During the business with Macro Textil he was leaning towards her as they discussed with Ms. Colombia and the guy incharge of sells. Which I already talked about this in another post as well where he finally stops having all eyes on Ms. Colombia and is absorbed by Betty.

At the meeting the day before the launch Armando pulls a chair for Betty and tells her to sit by him and when she goes to sit he pulls his chair closer to her and leans towards her, when he usually is always leaning to his right, he now leans towards his left, where Betty is. That's not the only noticeable change. When Marcela starts yelling and insulting Betty, Armando visibly looks ticked off until he finally raises his voice at her and then adjusted his tone and talked to her calmly. Then later that night when Marcela and him are together discussing Claudia, Armando tells her that he can't do anything because Hugo will throw a fit, then Marcela decides to let her vandetta with Claudia go and asks for another head, to which Armando says anyone's head.

Remember how I said that Armando is really dumb with feelings and that when he has them he blurts them out unthinkably and then proceeds to correct himself?

Here Marcela gives him the ultimatum; Claudia's head or Betty's head.

Armando pulls away from her and says no, to which Marcela asks "You can't do it or you don't want to?" and he says "I don't want to- I can't." and he looks bothered by the idea of it. Like a kid told to share his toys with someone. We then see him feeling guilty over Betty being the owner of Eco Moda because Marcela is saying that she's gotta run everything by Betty.

The last point was a long one :)

Armando still yells at Betty and he still is a crappy boss but the last two days he has blended and blurred the lines so much while Betty has remained a good employee and kept boundaries with him.

Now this is the scene we've all been waiting for.

Armando finds out that Nicolas is Betty's "platonic love".

The day starts off with Marcela going to yell at Betty, as one does, and Armando seems bothered by it, while before it did bother him it wasn't much where he interacted or reacted to it. As he said he knew Betty could handle of them[Paty and Marcela].

Now one could simply say "But this is all because of Eco Moda and Betty is the owner now and he doesn't want her to turn against them."

Had that been the intention of the writer we wouldn't had gotten any of the previous details mentioned in the previous post. We wouldn't be seeing the subtle change, the blending of their personal lives, the obvious act of defending Betty against Mario's paranoia and the obvious stupidity of Armando towards his feelings.

Remember! Armando wasn't paranoid and he sure as hell wasn't questioning Betty's loyalty to him.

So if he isn't having those feelings? Why does he all of a sudden run to her aid against Marcela? Why does he not only defend his decision to hiring Betty as he did in the past but Betty's role and job in Eco Moda?

Here's the thing we all need to understand Armando is somewhat smart in his line of work. He knows how to manipulate, convince, and make deals. He is a very mechanical guy. Women enter him through his eyes. We've seen him be a womanizer and seggs is the way to his heart. Which is exactly why he was so stupid and clueless about his feelings towards Betty because unlike all the other woman, Betty didn't enter him through the eyes or sex. She did through action and personality and it all comes crashing down in this very scene. However, Armando is very stupid and I mean colossally stupid when it comes to feelings. He is a mechanical man, even in his relationship with Marcela, his parents, his best friend, his lovers, and he isn't fazed by people's emotions. He is uncomfortable with them and as a person who happens to be the same, when it comes to recognizing feelings and defining them as what they are it's really hard to do that when you spend your time avoiding and running away from any feeling and it can take months for someone to identify those feelings. Which is why the subtle changes and his reaction to this news leaves him uncomfortable, confused, and most of all scared and he tries to justify and identify these feelings as other things. Once again I talk from personal experience.

The writing from the previous episodes is meant to bring all of this together. Scenes that we might asume had nothing to do with the romance between B and A all of a sudden hold a lot of weight here. For example the scene when Sofia cries over her husband's lover working there, it shows Armando visibly uncomfortable as he turns to Betty's office and looks like he wants to stand up and leave the room when he sees her crying. However the last time Betty cried in front of him without her even asking or making any insinuation of it, Armando goes to hug her so he can comfort her. Mariana once said that he could watch someone cry and be unfazed by it but we had two more incidents previous to that that show us little by little how he begins to change for Betty. If they weren't important than we wouldn't had gotten them.

Bertha burst into his office with a smile on her face. Armando is as normal and typical as always, Betty enters the room and hands him the paperwork for him to sign.

That's when Bertha mentions that "Your love, your boyfriend, Nicolas Mora just called you!" and we get a close up of Armando's face(they wouldn't have shown us this if it weren't important). His eyes are focused on Betty, brows narrow, lips on a line and nostrils flared, meaning my boy is mad. When Betty asks if he signed the papers, without breaking eye contact with her, with a very serious and dead tone he tells her he did and hands them to her.

Skip a scene ahead we then see Armando exiting Betty's office, head down, shaking his head, looking confused and angry. When Mario walks in he asks if something happened and Armando nods, goes back into her office, steps back out and leans against the door frame, wrapping his arms around himself which is something people do to self sooth and he proceeds to tell Mario that something very grave has happened. Mario's facial expression shows worry.

Now let's go back to the episode when Betty gave Armando the papers that showed that Eco Moda was now under seizure for the debt they had with Terra Moda, how his voice was during that, which was somber. We know it hurt him to see that and that it was a hard thing to accept as he studied that most of the scene. Here in this scene he has the exact same tone of voice, somber, which means he is truly bothered and sad over Betty having a boyfriend.

Mario then proceeds to laugh and joke about it. Armando angrily tells him that the monstrete that he is making fun of is the owner of Eco Moda now and then his voice changes to say "She has a boyfriend." to which Mario again proceeds to make fun of. We see Armando's body language, he turns his back for a brief second, he doesn't look at Mario or make eye contact while he is making those jokes and for a split second we see a confused look on his face.

What does this mean? Armando sudden change of heart and his frustration towards the news aren't solely based on Eco Moda for what he continues to make apparent and continues to repeat is that Betty has a boyfriend because that's what he is hung up about.

I'm sorry I keep saying let's go back to a post or episode but this all comes imploding here, now, to prove the theory. Remember how I mentioned that Armando seemed unbothered by Nicolas and even defended him against Mario and his paranoia?

When Mario asks who the unfortunate person was Armando does as he does best, react emotionally.

All of a sudden Armando is furious as he refers to Nicolas. All of a sudden the person who he himself said was trustworthy, who he assured Mario was someone Betty collaborates with becomes an idiot and an object of disdain to Armando.

While Mario seems more concerned over the company and who the owner is; Armando seems more concerned over the fact that Nicolas is Betty's boyfriend.

He then proceeds to tell Mario how he found out and he tells it like he were telling him something traumatic, he is stuttering every few words, pacing, talking fast, unable to sit for more than a second and mocking, something we later see as a jealousy act of his, and gets angry( he makes it more dramatic by saying that Bertha said Nicolas was Betty's eternal love, her lover) when he gets to the point of the story that they talked about Betty's boyfriend in front of him which lets us know he felt it was disrespectful for Betty to do that.

What kind of boss thinks it's disrespectful for their employee to have a boyfriend and talk about it in front of them?

One that likes you and thinks there's something special going on between you two.

My theory is that Armando wasn't in love with Betty at this point but he was mixing up his feelings because he liked her and felt possessive over her. He felt that Betty's unconditionality, fidelity, loyalty, and faithfulness was all towards him and that made him feel special(when Betty was offered that commission by RagTela when she confessed it to Armando he went to her and told her he was glad he was a part of such an important test in her life which feeds the idea that he felt special to her) because of course, the "ugly" girl would never have a boyfriend to give all that to and he felt special to be the one to receive that from her without Betty asking for anything in return. Those exact qualities were the things that lead Armando to even have feelings for her(that he's not aware of) and all of a sudden there's someone who could be receiving those exact same qualities of Betty's and more which makes him react the way he does.

In his own words what offended him most (which means he was offended by Betty and Bertha talking about her personal love life in front of him) was that Betty didn't say anything about it.

Why is that?

Up to this point we've seen Armando slowly blur the lines of personal and work with Betty. Little by little we see him let his guard down, expressing his inner thoughts and feelings regarding his biggest burden and how it'll affect him. Betty knows him very well and he is very well aware of that as he tells her that he knows she understands more than anyone what he's doing while Armando barely knows anything about her. He knows she's got ethics, morals, and principles she sticks by. He knows her family and how humble and moral they are. He knows the most important parts of her character that makes her a trustworthy employee but he knows nothing about Betty's personal life like Betty does his.

In his own words again he says "I don't know, I don't know why she didn't confide in me. Me who has been very special to her-" please, let me bring you back to the past. In a post I mentioned that every time Betty gave him more of herself her rewarded her by doing the same in return. For example, when Betty showed loyalty to him he became more kind to her. When Betty showed unconditionality he showed loyalty. We begin to see a pattern of behavior. Whilst Betty's affection is shown through means of work and being respectful and having boundaries with him and living off her daydreams, Armando's is different. His affection is shown by blurring the lines between personal and work. By giving more of himself to her in an emotional sense.

He then concludes to say "This hurts me a lot, listen to me Calderon, I don't like this at all." Mario's perspective is that Amranod is worried for the same thing he is: Eco Moda. However Armando is on a different solar system as Mario tells him they should have investigated her more and again Armando goes to defend her. Saying that she is unconditional and has always been loyal to him. That he knows her perfectly, wouldn't you say this contradicts the plan?

"How the hell was I supposed to imagine that Betty! My Betty... would have a boyfriend?"

Armando then gives way to paranoia saying that Betty's personal life is deeply entwined with his, the companies, and his family's personal lives. Which means that Mario's seed of paranoia has now began to flourish in Armando and it shows his confusion. One moment he is defending Betty, the next he is questioning her. One second he is sure of her loyalty and the next he is worried about her having Eco Moda.

This is when the roles switch. In the previous days and scenes when Mario was paranoid Armando truthfully defended Betty and her loyalty. He was so sure of it but why does her having a boyfriend change that? Because Armando felt betrayed by Betty. He felt that she should have told him this. In other words Armando feels bamboozled because he isn't Betty's special man and now instead of Mario being the paranoid one he is the one to remind Armando that Betty is trustworthy. He tells him that Betty says "He's important for the company." and that the fact he's her boyfriend doesn't change anything he then proceeds to ask "Or what? You jealous?" and Armando laughs.

Notice his body language? He's biting his thumb nail, eyebrows arched and eyes worried. Yes, he is paranoid but he's also now struggling with the feelings that are left behind from the revelation that Betty has a boyfriend.

This will be part 1 of the next couple of episodes to break down Armando's inner struggle and why he is so stupid.

I need to get some rest lol

[the-silentium]

Rock Bottom

Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 4150 words

Warnings: Blood, gore, monsters, killing, ANGST, cruel world in action.

A/N: I just reached 500 followers?! This is crazy! I love you all people who somehow put up with my insanity  ♥️

Taglist:  @haloangel391​ / @lightning-wolffe​ / @cherrydemon5​ / @and-claudia​ / @clone-rambles​

______________________

The vice grips around your upper arms burned as the talons cut through the fabric and tore through the skin. The humanoid creature hissed in pain when your bodies switched position and he got the worst of the branches. Soon, you found yourself falling on top of the Algax, out of breath and in pain. 

It quickly rolled over, throwing you to the ground right under itself. You heard yells and saw lights illuminating your surroundings, but more importantly, you saw the eyeless, noseless face mere centimeters from your face, the hideous lining that you thought was its mouth looked burned and sewn shut as if to prevent it from feeding on its prey. 

You would have been relieved of the fact if the pain in your arms hadn't moved to your whole torso. He was crushing you to death! 

Out of your daze, you trashed around, feet kicking what would be its chest, attempting to push it away. Screeches erupted from tiny slits at the side of its hectically rotating head, the Algax abruptly jerked away from the ground, your body still in its grip. It started moving away from the clones, unbothered by the blaster bolts hitting its back successively or by your movements. 

Orders were barked in your ear but they didn't register. All you could acknowledge was the building pressure around your bones, how it was becoming almost impossible to breathe even the tiniest of breath. You were positive that your ribs would start to break at any second now. 

The primal part of your brain then took over, reaching for your knife and plunging it forward in the dark blue arm holding you above ground. 

The effect was instantaneous. You were thrown like a rag doll to the side, right into a trunk. The thud of your head hitting the wood resonated through your skull, stilling you. Your whole body seemed to completely stop functioning for a whole second before remembering that this wasn't the time to chill out. 

A moan nearly escaped your mouth as the first satisfying breath of the last minute filled your lungs. How could you never realize that breathing felt so right? Breathing felt so good. So much better than being squished like a miserable insect. Oh no. Was this how they felt every time you'd step on them? This was so crue-

"Are you okay?" Confused, you blinked at Tech's question. 

"Me?" You pointed to yourself as if the question wasn't clear enough. 

Then the pain in your arms registered and-

"Holy mother fucker that hurts!" You whined, experimentally poking the bleeding skin to see if this really was the source of the pain. 

"Don't touch it!" Tech chastised, slapping your hand away, to which you glared in return. 

"I'll die of a blood disease." You pouted, watching as your wound touched the disgusting bloody mix you spread on your clothes earlier. 

"Highly possible." You felt the color leaving your face. Maybe you said it, but you didn't want it! 

"But we won't let that happen." You jumped at the gauze tightening around your wound unexpectedly, your opposed hand almost shooting out to hit him instinctively. 

"That was an Algax, correct?" Hunter approached behind Tech, keeping an eye on the surroundings while the engineer fixed your other arm. 

"Spot on. He ran away, right?" The dark blue monster was nowhere to be seen, not that it bothered you. 

"Right after you stabbed him." He handed you your knife that you apparently dropped at some point. "Look like those things are blaster proof or something." 

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there's no blaster in the lore." You gladly took the life-saving weapon back, securing its handle in your grip where it belonged. 

"Does your head hurt?" Tech inquired, getting up when he was satisfied with the makeshift bandages. 

"Nope. All good." It was pounding in there, but whatever. 

Getting back on your feet with Tech's help, you took a second to stabilize yourself before giving a heart attack to the nerd. 

"Don't do that!" He yelped, catching everyone's attention on your stretching self. 

"I'm just stretching..." 

"You just hurt your back! Don't flex your spine like that!" He successfully got you back straight with a slap to your abdomen. 

"We have to leave." Crosshair cut you off, pushing between the both of you to get ahead. 

"I agree with Cross. No more fuss." You speed-walked to catch up to the abrasive clone, desperately trying to keep the laugh in at the rhyme. 

"Thanks for that." You whispered to him, eyes already moving from shadow to shadow. 

"Don't thank me. If you stretch again I'll make your life more miserable than it already is." Oh how this only made you want to stretch to push his buttons. 

"Can't make it miserable if that means you'll be around." You grinned, unabashed by the meaning of your words. It was time for him to warm up to you a little more.

Every second of silence made you cheer inside. Rending the snarky sniper speechless was an exploit after all. 

"I can figure something out." He countered weakly after a while. 

Chuckling, you rotated the handle of your knife between your skilled fingers, alternating it from pointing forward and backward to pass your sudden regain of energy. Why did he have such an effect on you? It still was a mystery that you'd have to elucidate later. 

"I hear a voice." Hunter informed the group. 

"Is it calling you?" This was never a good sign, the Venuste were really effective critters in their task of enchanting everyone around. Keeping him with you and away from them would necessitate Wrecker's muscles. 

"No, it's a kid's voice. Whining about flee- fleeing? Something like that. It's not clear." 

"A kid?" You stopped dead, deeply confused. Had the council gone mad?! What could possibly justify sending kids out to their death? Or did they get caught outside like you did? "Where?" 

"Sure it's not a trap?" He pointed over your shoulder to your right. 

"One way to be sure." It genuinely hurt to stay in position and not speed walk through the trees to verify if the council had gone from a bunch of imbeciles to a cohort of assholes running the whole village to their doom. 

You had to remind yourself that when you agreed to join the commandos, you'd made a promise to fight for them as well as with them and that you'd be a reliable asset at any time in any given situation. You weren't alone anymore. 

It didn't change the fact that it was hard. 

"It's personal?" Crosshair clearly saw the shift in your mood, from the tightness in your muscles that wasn't there before to the sudden lack of motion of your armed hand. 

"I just want to know if I'll break my hand again or not." 

"Break your hand?" 

The question passed over your head when you heard the young boy's voice. He wasn't from the village, you knew every kid there mainly because you liked to help them build traps for strangers to fall in and they liked your prank ideas. You didn't know how to tell Tech that you were the one to propose the phosphorescent bird poo mixed with loth wolf puke idea. Maybe it was better to take it to your grave.  

You halted at the edge of the clearing illuminated by the moon and its stars, eyes glued to the young boy walking in circle a couple of meters away, his bare feet bleeding profusely from the incessant walking he endured for who knew how long. Your heart squeezed at his fate. No one deserved this kind of torture, let alone an innocent child. 

Your eyes adjusted to the new light, a new serene pallet of color taking over the gradually fading shades of blue and black. 

The boy's clothes were torn up and dirty to a point where you couldn't say for sure what color it was initially or if there was a design on it like most children liked to wear nowadays. 

"What's wrong with him?" Wrecker's worry hit you in the gut. You shouldn't have to tell him this because this shouldn't exist. 

"He's a Wanderer, now. A Lumsin got his soul." You slumped, defeated. 

"His soul?" He tilted his head and although you couldn't see it, you were sure there was a frown hidden under the customized helmet. 

"Yes. Everyone has a soul and Lumsins feed on them. When they eat a soul, the body becomes lost and wander around, walking and walking until it dies." 

"His soul got eaten." He reiterated in a whisper, the hand lifting to his head not lost on you.

"Y-" Your heartbeat shot through the roof when your eyes found a crest necklace around the kid's neck. 

You knew that crest all too well. And those beautiful red hairs, they should have made you realize sooner. Way sooner. 

"I know him." It unconsciously escaped your lips before you leaped forward, not able to repress your urges anymore. 

Crosshair was hot on your tail, the others staying in the shadows to keep an eye out. 

You jumped before the boy, hands rising to his cold cheeks, wishing that the gesture would pull him out of his spell. He merely rammed into you with his small 6 years old emaciated body, barely making you budge. 

He continuously mumbled the same sentence, the last thought his body heard from his soul before the contact was lost. 

"I want Fleena."

"Nixon, buddy." You grazed the freckles on his cheeks with your thumbs. He was so familiar. 

You'd never met him when he was still a lively boy, their village wasn't one to be in close contact with the others, but you've seen extremely detailed drawings of him. Plus, he looked so much like his sister. 

"We have to go." Crosshair pressed, anxious to be so out in the open. You knew you were being delusional and were basically putting him in danger for someone who couldn't be saved, but you had something to do. 

"I'll be quick." You assured the sniper before taking the robin carved necklace off Nixon's small neck to store it in your pants pocket. 

"Your sis' loves you very much, Nixon." You tenderly kissed his forehead like any child should be kissed, with utter softness and care. "And she wants you to be free." 

You could easily remember the nights out between the local cantina and the general store, where Fleena would show you drawings of the beasts that attacked her village when their gates got breached. You were terrified. Her whole village was wiped out in a single night, leaving her behind with a mind plagued with nightmares and grief. 

She talked often about Nixon who had turned 6 the week before it happened. She would relive her best moments with him, where laughs and smiles were a common occurrence. Then she'd close on herself, praying to the merciless gods above to at least let her brother be in peace. 

It broke your heart to know that it wasn't the case. That he was still trapped, may his soul be somewhere else, hopefully, in a better world, his body was still living in a wicked world. 

"You deserve to rest Nixon." You ruffled his hair like Fleena used to do. 

With a quick movement of your hands, you freed him from his torment in this cruel world. 

The world numbed for a moment, mind blocking the events for your own sanity, but it wasn't enough. It didn't stop all the injustice of this world. A vast beautiful world that you couldn't explore because of monsters waiting for the right moment to bounce. You were forced to live in a cage when the world was so vast. Kids were forced to grow up too fast or couldn't grow up at all. This world was sick. 

It took 2 hours for your stomach to empty itself on the ground for the first time of the night. In all honesty, it was longer than you initially expected. 

Oh. You didn't expect either to find yourself back into the woods, without any memory of making the way back. Hands alternate from patting your back to stroking up and down between your scapulas. 

Someone's tears fell onto the bile, or maybe it was raining. Yes, it was raining. You felt the water stream down your cheeks like rivers, the two trails joining at your chin to fall on the ground. 

"You freed him." Crosshair crouched to your level so you'd not tune him out like you did the others. "You helped him." 

"I helped him." You repeated. It was true. 

"You did." A finger moved across your cheek to remove the remaining rain from your face. No. They were tears. Your tears of pain. 

"I hate to force this on you, but we have to get back to the rav-" 

A scream of distress pierced the night, cutting off the sergeant in the worst way possible. Everyone froze, listening to the yells asking for help that only you understood. Another hunter. He wasn't that far away. 

"He's asking for help." You mumbled slowly coming out of your daze. 

Your eyes moved away from the bile splattered before your knees to meet the black and white helmet of your sergeant. You were in no position to decide, the fog in your mind only beginning to dissipate gradually. 

"We can't help." The requests for assistance had already morphed into screams of pain and agony that they didn't need to be translated to understand. 

"We hurry back and get off this rock." He cut short, the yells fading quickly in intensity. 

Hands under your armpits helped you up. Shaky legs stilled after a couple of seconds and a few deep breaths. Slowly as if you'd double over at any second, Wrecker's huge hands let go of their grip on you. With a muttered thanks you harshly wiped your face with your hands to get yourself together. 

You needed to bottle up every event happening tonight for later. You'd have time to scream, thrash around and cry when you'd be safe within the Havoc Marauder. 

"Ready." You affirmed after swallowing the lump in your throat. 

The night was silent again, meaning that the beast could either be feasting or roaming around again. The group will have to be extra careful to return to the ravine and stay under the radar. Many species could have caused this kind of screams and they weren't to be messed with. 

Hunter took the front while you took his place in the middle, just behind him. Crosshair grazed your right arm, Tech your left and Wrecker got your back. 

You purposefully ignored the worried glances coming from Tech, it surely must have been a shock to see you do what you did in the clearing. It was so out of nowhere for them. But it wasn't for you. A big part of your brain simply wished they would not abandon you on the planet once you all make it back to the ship. 

This time, you were the first one to notice the change in the atmosphere. What was interpreted by Hunter as the wind humming through the trees was in fact a very angry Kribat protecting its territory. 

"Hide!" You whispered harshly in the comlink you hurriedly pulled out of your pocket. There was no way they'd see your hand sign at your current position. 

It was so sudden that they stopped for a millisecond, unsure of where to hide. You pushed through them to lead the way to a deeper line of trees on your left, feet moving faster to get more distance between the Kribat and your group. 

Your feet slipped under yourself when you ducked behind a particularly large tree. Despite your best efforts to stay upright, gravity pulled you down to your fall, as it clearly enjoyed to do, both physically and mentally. 

The ground wasn't as hard as you remembered, a bit soft if you were to define it, and warmer. 

It wasn't until Wrecker pulled you upright once again that you realized that your fall had been broken by a shredded body. Dread washed over you as you saw the two other hunters who'd suffered the same fate, laying close by in a pool of their blood, missing some limbs. 

You knew them. They never had a place in your heart, but you knew them nonetheless and would never have wished them to suffer like they did. You knew two of them had families waiting at home. Well. Maybe they weren't waiting, merely hoping that they would come back by some miracle. 

Two feet away from a Kribat's preys was the worst place to be right now, but you couldn't move to another spot. Not with the howling Kribat right behind yours and Wrecker's hiding spot. 

It was awfully close. Too close to your liking and way too angry to hope to survive its attacks if it were to find you. 

Wrecker had you pressed to his chest by a hand right over your breast, detail that flashed into your mind although it was totally irrelevant. He was just stressed like you were. His hands simply reached for you in his haste and happened to find the friends-are-not-supposed-to-touch spot so you dropped it. At least he wasn't groping. 

The ragged breathing of the feral beast passed as it reacted to a movement nearby, giving chase to the unfortunate creature. For a painful second, you thought that it might be one of your teammates, Tech and Hunter were out of view while Crosshair was peeking back to get a glimpse of the retreating beast. 

Just as you tried to push away to see if the missing clones were around, Wrecker's hand pushed you more into himself, crushing your boobs like they were never crushed before. 

"Everyone's okay." He informed you to keep you still, not releasing his grip. You hummed in acknowledgment. 

"Wrecker." He hummed back, waiting for you to continue. "Hands off my boobs." 

You've never seen a hand fly away as quickly as Wrecker's did. Yours didn't even move that fast when you accidentally put your hand on a lump of red coal and you remember having a good reflex then. 

"Hands off what?" A harsh whisper in your right ear caused the demolition expert to sputter. 

Apparently, the comlink in his helmet caught your voice. 

"I didn't know Sarge!" He explained without any more delay. "Sorry Y/N." 

He kept his free hand far from your body now that the danger has passed. It would have been hilarious if only you weren't at the lowest emotionally. 

" 's fine Wrecker." You shrugged, unbothered by all of it and way too exhausted emotionally to care. It was an accident in the midst of action, nothing more, no need to create a whole drama because of it. 

A piece of wood in the bloody mess caught your gaze. Your heart skipped a beat at the recognizable darker tint of the object, tonight was getting slightly better. 

Crouching, you reached for the thick wood stick, fingers moving along the carvings etched into its length. Both in relief and satisfaction, you found the energy in yourself to smile. 

"Found something?" Tech approached from your side, the remaining missing soldier in tow. 

"Yeah. Most useful stealth weapon on this planet." You showed him the bloody bow, your other hand sliding your knife into its rightful place in your boot. 

Rolling the body to the side respectfully, you checked for the quiver that you found still strapped to his back. Slowly, you pulled it over his head to pass it over yours.

"This is a fine piece of work." Despite his words, you could hear that he clearly would never use it to defend himself if he had the choice.

Taking back the weapon, you cleaned the grip and loaded an arrow, muscle memory doing a splendid job into positioning yourself perfectly in a flawless shooting stance. A sigh of relief almost escaped your lips at the feeling of finally being adequately armed. 

"Think it will hurt them more than our blasters?" Crosshair gave you some extra arrows he found laying around, still unconvinced that wood sticks with metal points could surpass their own advanced technology. 

"We'll know it now." 

You frowned, quickly grabbing an arrow to arm the bow, pulled on the string while aiming over the engineer's shoulder and suddenly released the tension on the string, scaring the shit out of Tech but hitting your target perfectly. 

The Algax screeched as the arrow hit it right where its left eye would be, retracting its dangerous talons reaching for the goggled clone to grab at its face. 

The troopers jumped at the unexpected screech, although they recovered in record time, turning around, blasters at the ready. They only had time to shoot at its already retreating form.��

"Don't lose that." Hunter turned around, pointing at the bow in your hands. "Now let's go." He urged everyone forward. 

Quickly, you grabbed the arrows in Crosshair's hand and stored them with the others. 

As you took your position back at the front, a hand softly grazed the small of your back, by possessiveness or just to ensure that you were alright, you weren't entirely sure. But Hunter's gesture was very much welcome. 

The bow was a game-changer. The weapon may not be able to kill them, but it could very easily gain you some time when needed. 

Now, if luck could still stick by your sides, the next useful thing you'd find was a shelter. 

In the following hour, you managed to scare away the next 3 Algax you encountered with a single arrow neatly shot between the hollows where their eyes should be and avoided another Kribat. 

Apparently, these two species were the main population of these parts of the jungle, it was a two-edged knife. The boys got used to hiding around the environment and knew how to react properly at an Algax jumping on them out of nowhere, but you knew those weren't the only danger around. Would they react adequately when a new monster presented itself?

Tech changed his opinion on your weapon, affirming that he'll have to build one himself, more technological of course, improved like he said. You kicked his shin at the 'less-primitive' insinuation behind his words.  

"It's a great weapon that deserves respect Tech." You reprimanded, arrow pointing to the ground and ready to engage if needed. 

"It does need improvements!" He countered on the defensive and he proceeded to explain what he would do to add more strength to the bow, allowing it to shoot further and at a greater impact. 

Just as Hunter shushed the engineer, you heard your name being whispered in the distance. Fear tensed your muscles in apprehension, expecting claws to tear at your skin any second now. Time went on without any foes jumping out of the shadows, prompting you to continue your route with the others, passing it for the wind or a trick of your mind.

That is until everything went downhill. 

"Do you guys hear that?" Wrecker suddenly asked, immediately catching everyone's attention. 

Silence followed, seconds after seconds passed in utter silence until, "That! Heard that?" 

"No." Hunter stopped the group to ensure that they weren't missing something important. 

"Wrecker, what is it? What do you hear?" A cold sweat ran down your spine, already knowing what he was going to say but praying otherwise. This couldn't be happening. 

"It's 99." Even without knowing who was 99, you knew that it would end badly, there was too much raw worry in his voice to calm him down in so little time. "He's in danger Sarge!" 

"No! Don't listen to it!" You jumped out to grab his armor, his hand, his blaster, anything really, not that your small muscles would have been able to stop the bear of a man anyway but your body thought it could. 

He was unexpectedly fast for someone his size, easily dodging your hand to push through his brothers like they were nothing. He ran like a desperate man chasing a dream and it hit you like a punch to the face. This was exactly it. His most desperate dream finally came true to haunt him. 

As you expected, the boys were on his tail in a heartbeat. 

But as you ran after them, you realized that for a team comm that should be flooding in orders for Wrecker to stop and pleas for him to understand that this was a trick, it was dreadfully quiet. 

Your blood froze in your veins as soon as realization dawned on you like a an ice cold bath. 

They all believed it.

[femmeharringrove]

when steve goes into labor early, he finds himself craving his mother's presence in a way he never has before.

he's always loved her, even if she never really loved him. growing up, she always just sort of avoided him - his eyes were so big and open and honest as he toddled about proclaiming his own love for just about everything under the sun - his nonna, the roses growing, and his mama. and she knew she should have loved him. hell, she wanted to love him, but she just couldn't. and since she couldn't love this little being who seemed entirely made up of love, she distanced herself.

and maybe as a child he didn't know, he was gullible enough to believe that she was just busy, just couldn't come play or couldn't help him plant a new flower, but he grew up and he saw everyone else's mother do so much better. and it stung. it did worse than sting, it ached in a way he just couldn't explain. and when he was fourteen he finally broke down and asked her why she didn't love him, and he'd hoped that she'd tell him otherwise but she was drunk and all she could do was break down and cry and ask for his forgiveness. she didn't remember it the next morning but steve's been haunted by the memory ever since, the knowledge that his mother doesn't love him.

of course he always knew his father despised him, there was no question of that. and now that he's having a baby of his own his aversion to the elder Harrington has only worsened. john harrington is a cruel being, he never should have been allowed near ant child, and steve was determined to keep him away from this one no matter what. he's already told the man he won't be allowed in the hospital, but his mother is supposed to be there. but it's the dead of night and the baby is coming early and as much as he cries for her there's no possible way to get her there in time.

still, billy's heart tugs at the way steve whimpers and says "i - i need her." but the thing is, billy knows the infamous misses harrington. and she doesn't deserve to be there when steve gives birth. but he knows exactly who does.

he does feel a little guilty about calling at such a ridiculous hour, but he isn't surprised when joyce answers, soft and groggy.

"hello?"

and billy pauses, because he doesn't know how to word this. he doesn't know how to tell her that steve's hours away from being a father instead of week, that he's crying for someone who doesn't love him, that billy himself is a little terrified. but in the end it just comes out on its own.

"he needs his mom."

and so joyce shows up at four in the morning and steve sobs against her because he's only ever been ready for the theoreticals. this isn't him reading a book on pregnancy, this isn't one of the kind mothers of hawkins sharing their delivery stories. this is steve, his stomach contracting miserably, his back and hips screaming, his heart racing because he's about to be in possession of a tiny little human being who's going to need him for everything. and this is also steve, barely in the third decade of his life, no real plan for his own future, staying up most nights because he's scared of monsters - monsters he'll now have to protect his baby from. and he doesn't know how to put those fears into words so all he can do is cry, and joyce, she gets it, she always does, and so she strokes his hair and soothes his fears as best she can.

and then there's claudia of course, who's been there since steve's first ultrasound, and she never leaves his room for long, not if she can help it. she holds his hand and wipes his tears and steve feels safe. claudia's always called him the older son she never had, and he feels more like steve henderson than steve harrington in those moments.

the kids won't leave either, because of course they won't. eleven and will overheard joyce on the phone the night before and when hopper tries to get them to school they outright beg to stay home because focusing is impossible knowing their honorary neice or nephew could be born at any second. and hop wants to make them go, but ultimately he can't. and once they get the all-clear, they call the others, and the next thing steve knows he's surrounded by a gang of not-quite teenagers looking him over for any problems and loudly expressing their excitement. and it's endearing, because it reminds steve that this kid has a plethora of babysitters at the ready - even if mike tries to act like he doesn't care, which is decidedly false judging from the panic that crosses his face when steve's hit with a nasty contraction.

dustin refuses to go home even as night falls, and max tells susan she's spending the night with eleven - which is true, but they're both staying at the hospital as well, hopper watching them while joyce stays firmly by steve's side.

on his right, as has been the case for the entirety of his pregnancy, is billy. holding his hand, pushing his hair out of his face, comforting and praising him through steve's low whines and pained groans. he doesn't know how many hours he spends pushing but it hurts like nothing else, like his body is being torn from the inside, and he wants it to stop but he needs to keep going. so he does, he grits his teeth and he pushes through everything, and in the end he's rewarded with the first wail of a human being.

and he doesn't cry right away.

not that he can, his body is catching up with that the hell just happened, his breath is still coming in quick, shaky gasps, and he feels like he's only hearing joyce, not listening. nothing feels right until he's given the solid six-pound weight of his baby on his chest. she's so pink, and her cries are subsiding slowly, but steve runs a trembling hand over the top of her head and realizes she's got the same dark fuzz from all of his baby pictures and then it smacks him in the gut.

this baby is his.

and he holds her close and cries because the amount of love in his chest is too much, he hurts with the intensity of it.

nikita rosaline harrington is her name, and billy tears up a little bit because of it. she's a pretty little thing, her nose is tiny and scrunches up whenever billy runs a fingertip down the tiny bridge of it. she's got her father's eyes too, big and brown and curious, billy's never seen anything more precious - or he thinks so, until he watches steve stare at her with the same eyes and nearly has a heart attack at how sweet the two of them are. and he doesn't need to complicate things right now, not when steve's finally catching his breath after months of hardship, but he knows in his heart this is his family. that's his baby, that's his - well, his steve. and he kisses them both on the forehead and promises he'll take care of them. he's not the dick responsible for knocking steve up, but it's an honor to do this, to step in.

to prove he's not like neil. he can be a dad, and a damn good one at that.

and steve, who doesn't even like letting nancy drive the party to the arcade without him being there, he trusts billy wholeheartedly to raise this baby with him. billy doesn't take that lightly.

joyce and claudia spend a good hour fawning over nikita, they've gotten her so many gifts and she ends up in the little cap claudia made and the outfit joyce got. max and eleven are just as thrilled, max kisses her chubby little cheeks and eleven stares at steve in awe for literally creating a life. will talks to her quietly and holds her like he never wants to let go, even though he does in order to let hopper hold niki for a bit.

there's never been a question about who her grandfather is. neil and john are simply unfit, and hopper's been a pseudo-dad to billy and steve, he's the only one who gets the grandfather status. there's a whole mix of emotion on his face as he bounces the cooing baby, telling her how nice it is to finally meet her and how he's gonna enjoy spoiling her rotten. when he finally gives her back to steve, the man has tears in his eyes.

"you did good, kid," he tells steve, runs a heavy hand over his hair before patting billy on the shoulder.

dustin holds her the longest, of course. he quickly comes to adore the fit of his finger in her curled palm, and he tells her about all the things he's going to teach her as she grows up. steve's fondly amused at how easily dustin takes to carrying nikita, in the same way steve got used to dragging dustin around. every time the curly-haired kid remembers to look up at the other people in the room, he gives steve the brightest grin, eyes crinkled with merriment.

"you have the coolest dad ever, niki," he informs her proudly, and steve's finally beyond the need for cool points but it's touching nonetheless.

mike and lucas meet her in the morning, and lucas immediately charms the baby with a little song as he rocks her back and forth. he declares himself the fun uncle, which dustin protests, but steve and billy know lucas is correct. mike is the only one who just knows how to hold a baby, thanks to a baby sister, so he takes nikita from lucas like it's nothing and stares at her little face for a long time. the emotion there isn't something steve can read, but he sees the way mike draws her closer after a moment and smiles.

mike's a protector, even if he likes to act like he doesn't care sometimes. and steve, who's just as protective, knows that niki is beyond safe with him.

when robin meets the baby she nearly screams. but then she remembers how new those little ears are and settles for the biggest grin as she swipes niki from billy and walks about, cooing all sorts of nonsense to her little neice. "she's too cute," she gushes, planting a kiss to the baby's forehead. "i'm taking her home. sorry, dingus." and steve protests, but they both know she isn't about to walk out of there with a baby. robin loves kids, but she doesn't think motherhood is for her.

it's certainly not for everyone. and that thought doesn't occur to steve until his mother shows up, nearly a day after niki is born.

he watches her go to pick nikita up and his heart twists and he wants to reach over and take her back. his hands stay clenched under the blanket as the woman smiles at the baby, then at steve himself.

"you made a cute one, i'm not surprised," she muses, and then she says, "don't you just love her?"

and steve, he can't really respond to that.

billy's his saving grace, picks up on the shift and ends up gently convincing misses harrington to come back another time. when he turns back to steve, the brunette has tears already streaming down his face.

"why couldn't she -?" he tries, but billy doesn't need him to finish that sentence. he moves closer and wraps steve up in his arms and for the first time decides that he hates both harringtons, not just john.

because steve's easily the most loveable soul he's ever stumbled across. he looks at nikita and all he can see is a little steve, and he hates the boy's parents for refusing to love the vulnerable little soul they brought into the world.

[glassesandkim]

I hope we get something about Levi's mom this season. Even if it's just one sentence I want to know if he's talking to her or not. They left on pretty shaky ground and it's been what two-three months in grey's time? I want to know how Levi is doing and I want to know about his dad. I want Levi to have a dad.

Here, friend. I wrote something! You can read it here or on ao3. 

It’s not even morning rounds yet and Levi has already had to call time of death.

It’s in these moments that he doesn’t know what he’s doing anymore. He doesn’t know if he’s a doctor or just a guy collecting deaths on his wrist. Even when he closes his eyes, he sees the red flash of alarms on monitors and hears the incessant drone of hearts flatlining.

Yesterday, it was three. The day before, it looked hopeful at just one death. Today? He doesn’t know. He really doesn’t know.

“Schmitt!” 

It’s bed sixteen: Claudia Walton. Grey’s there, already doing chest compressions. He grabs the laryngoscope and tube that’s already being handed to him by a nurse. He can hardly see into her airway. It’s so swollen that he throws the tube on the floor and is immediately given a smaller one. 

They’ve done this so many times. Nobody really has to say anything. They know the flow, the pace. Adrenaline takes over and there’s only one goal in all of their minds.

“Time of death, 7:27,” he breathes out, his breath is hot in his mask and gets trapped beneath it. Grey is gone in a flurry of yellow and blue. The nurses and PCTs start cleaning up around him. 

He’s so tired.

It’s three in the afternoon when he finally gets to go for lunch. They’re only allowed to sit two at a table and Levi, in an exhausted daze, almost forgets to take off his mask when he tries to take a bite out of his sandwich.

He sees a flash of someone familiar through the cafeteria doors. Fluffy hair atop of golden skin and broad shoulders in dark blue scrubs. He swallows hard, catching a much needed breath. 

Suddenly, his shift is over but he’s still running a code and another starts just as Grey begins bagging. He jumps across the hospital floor towards the symphony of alarms and beeps. His tired, urgent voice joins in amongst the noise.

He loses the seventh patient of the day an hour after he’s supposed to be off. 

“Go home, Schmitt,” Grey says and all but pushes him out the doors of the Covid ward. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her breath fogs up inside her headgear.

Levi doesn’t remember how he makes it to the resident’s lounge. Or when he passes out on the couch. His mask is riding halfway up across his face and that’s when he remembers Ms. Walton’s laugh just the other day. She was so nice and so warm. She asked him how he was, made him promise to stay safe and to eat, even between coughs and tired sighs. She was alive yesterday. Now she’s dead.

“Hey.”

Nico’s leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets. And Levi just about wants to run to him and jump on him, rip that damn mask off and kiss Nico’s mouth.

But Levi only replies back, “Hi.”

They do it in the bathroom. Levi’s head resting against Nico’s shoulder. One hand gripping tight around his bicep and the other tugging at the hair at the nape of Nico’s neck. It’s getting long and it covers his eyes. So when Levi lifts his head to watch Nico, just as he slides his own hand underneath the waistband of Nico’s pants, all Levi sees is nothing but hair and mask.

He hasn’t kissed Nico in weeks.

There are a lot of things he hasn’t done since the world turned upside down. Like go to the dentist despite the ache in the back of his mouth. Or grab takeout from the sharwma place down the street because that business is closed and probably gone forever. Or, what he really really wants is to go see his mom.

Levi really can’t believe he hasn’t seen her since — 

“What’s wrong?” Nico’s voice is soft and comes from far away. 

He’s really thinking about his mom right before sex. Normally, he would be slamming his head against the wall, trying to stop this obscene train of thought, but nothing’s normal. And it’s the first time in eighteen hours that he’s had a moment to actually think. And goddamnit, in this moment, he misses his crazy mom who has probably been hoarding bagels and fighting people over jugs of hand sanitizer. His mom who calls him everyday and who is almost always met with his voicemail because he’s too busy, too tired, too whatever. His mother who raised him, clothed him, fed him and loves him and who he left because she couldn’t see that existing as who he is, meant existing beyond his little room in the basement. 

Despite all that, he misses his ima so much.

His chest hurts as he takes a couple of deep breaths. Nico looks concerned now, brows knitted underneath his messy bangs. Levi feels a hand come up to touch his cheek. It’s Ms. Walton’s, her laugh sings prettily in his ear and he swears he’s not running a code, but the page is going and it’s his two hundredth death of the day. Chest compressions! Chest compressions! Chest compressions! He’s been doing so many his arms have become jello. He can’t do it anymore. He’s so tired. He’s so so tired. 

“Levi?” Nico calls him again, and ah -- what? They’re back in the bathroom now, but Levi’s trying hard to focus on breathing — in, out — in, out — in — in —

The next thing he knows, he’s on the cold floor in Nico’s arms, back pressed flushed against the other’s chest. His mask is on the floor in front of them and Nico’s whispering things like “You’re fine, Levi. Breathe. That’s it. Good. You’re doing great. You’re fine. You’re okay.”

Fuck, shit, goddamnit! He wants to say all of that but breathing seems to be the only thing he can do right now.

It takes a bit but eventually, Levi feels like he’s back inside of his own body again. Although, it feels incredibly heavy and useless so it’s a good thing Nico is strong and lifts him up to his feet easily enough. 

Nico guides him back to the couch and thank god the lounge is still empty. He forces Levi to lie down and slides a cushion under his head and kneels beside him. The same, warm and steady hand comes back to hold his face again and this time, Levi knows it’s Nico’s. His other hands takes Levi’s pulse on his neck. He sees Nico’s mask is gone too, his face a sight Levi’s been craving. 

But he can’t stand the way Nico is looking at him, all worried and sad, like Levi’s going to breakdown, even though he just did. He hates that.

"Hey,” Levi says, trying and watching Nico. "At least this time, I didn’t faint in an OR.” 

Nico stares for a moment, his thumb pauses under Levi’s eye, and then he chuckles, shaking his head, eyes crinkling. Levi missed this. 

They stay like that for a while, not talking. His eyes closed and counting each breath that comes out. Levi greedily drinks in Nico’s warm touch. 

“How many today?” Nico’s voice is quiet.

Levi opens his eyes, makes to say the number, but something catches in his throat. Ms. Walton was the worst one.

“One of them reminded me of my mom,” Levi manages to say this in a whisper.

Nico frowns. “And is she—?”

“Dead.”

A pause. "I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

He wants to call his mom. Even his aunts and his uncles. His cousins and their kids. Hell, if he could call his father, he would. But the guy left him and his mom when he was a kid. Yet Levi would still want him to be okay. To be safe. To be healthy.

Nico hasn’t stopped touching his face, holding his cheek and rubbing the space between his cheek and his ear. The skin there revels with heat. 

Maybe Levi’s a little angry. Angry at the world, at the pandemic. Angry that his mother tried to hide his being gay from the world. Angry that the fear of the disease is so big, it eats him up whole every time a new case comes in. And he’s angry that he’s alone and Nico is supposed to be nothing even though he’s right in front of Levi, being there for him, holding him, smiling. Like this could be a thing, more than just stress relief. And now he’s angry he’s being hopeful when he knows he shouldn’t be. 

He loved Nico. He still does. Levi loves Nico. 

Nico looks like he wants to say more. Levi swears he sees something shining, threatening to escape in Nico’s eyes. His lips parted and his expression open and soft. For a moment, Levi thinks it might happen. He doesn’t know what Nico might say but he’ll listen. He hopes Nico knows that he’ll always listen. 

He can’t help but grab Nico’s hand in his. But then Nico’s gaze hardens again and their hands fall apart.

“Do you need anything else?” Nico asks, standing up and looking away from him.

Levi sits up and tries to hide his disappointment. “Maybe you could just forget that that happened? I’ve got enough things to be embarrassed about.” He adds on when Nico smiles, “No, I’m all right.” “Okay.” Nico doesn’t even hesitate when he turns towards the door, putting his mask back on.

“Are you?” Levi blurts out, not ready for him to leave just yet. “Are you okay, Nico?”

Nico stops. And Levi wants him to look back, wants to see him, but Nico doesn’t.

"I’m fine, Levi.”

And then he’s alone again.

[newobsessionweekly]

Be my home🌿

a/n: well, I know I have requests and all but I had an idea and I really wanted to write it down. I like how this turned out. Stay safe and enjoy it because I surely did enjoyed writing it.🌿❤️ word count: 1.899

warnings: idk bro, none I guess.

Miguel Bernardeau x reader🌿

As you slowly opened your eyes, a smell of fish and salt which can’t be unrecognised filled your senses while a peaceful sound of breaking waves heard on the distance. Quietly snoring beside you, sitting on his belly was sleeping your boyfriend. You smiled looking at the ceiling, this is not a dream, this is the reality. You and Miguel are trying to travel as much as possible, benefitting from any break from work or any holiday. Surfing has a significant place in his heart, and for you, the sun and the sea are the combination you preferred the most, so where to go was never a problem. You went together to Indonesia a year ago and for your two-years anniversary, you reached the American continent. California was so warm and beautiful, but there were far too many people speaking english.

The sunrise found you this time in the crazy Ibiza, in a house that one of Miguel’s friends let you borrow for a few days. The sun somehow managed to break through the curtains and disturb your sleep, so you just turned to admire your handsome man.

He was sleeping so peacefully, with a hand under his pillow and the other one between the two of you, that you just want to sit there. You have this habit to hold hands before you fall asleep, it is adorable and rubbing each other’s hand, calming each other, it is the most amazing way to fall asleep.

You can’t see his beautiful eyes right now, but you can tell they’re as blue and as restless as the sea itself. You are tracing the shape of his body, the skin from his back felt like home under your touch. His blonde hair is getting messier as you ran your hand through it, but you know this is the fastest way he’s calming down.

Miguel is a big tornado filled with so much love and kindness for everything and everyone. You wonder sometimes how he still managed to be this way in a world full with suffering and misery, sadness and wickedness. But you understand soon enough that he is the sunshine that the world needs the most. He is the only one that could light up this world with his smile, his laugh or even with his presence. He emanates so much brightness, no one can resist it.

Him and his love helped you through the most critical period of your life. He has been there and you understood that even the darkest of the days, he could make it shine bright like a diamond.

His body is covered entirely with these adorable freckles, and his lips are always curved into a smile, being it a wide or a lazy one. He even smiles in his sleep, and his face isn’t even used with a frowning. You were still caressing his hair when you heard a little chuckle escaping his mouth. His eyes opened, but he closed them again soon enough because of the sun’s hitting in an angle right into his face.

You half laughed and approached, hiding his face away from the sun and placing kisses on his body. First kiss was on the cheek, then you get down on his neck, ending the series of kisses on his shoulder. That made him look at you with one eye, then smiling so bright while opening the other eye. He moved in bed so that he could admire you properly.

“Good morning, little sunshine!” you smiled and placed you lips gently over his.

“Morning.” he mumbled as you tangled your feet under the sheets and his head rested for now on your chest. “Very interesting the way, you transformed this morning into one of out best mornings.”

“Yeah, you liked it?”

He can’t stay still for a second, he’s even worse than a little kid. He started kissing the base of your neck, “Mhm. I want to receive this treatment on my birthday too.” he continued on your shoulder, placing soft and wet kisses on, “And maybe on Christmas morning? And every morning?”

“You are not asking for much at all.” you joked as you were glancing at the sea. “Your hair smells like fish. I thought you washed it last night.”

Miguel sat up in bed, stretching out and admiring you. This was when Miguel felt he loved you most – the quiet, in-between moments of domestic life. The sight of you tucked in with his t-shirt from the day before fitting you perfectly, and your messy hair, was perhaps the most beautiful he’d never seen you. “I did. But I went for a swim in the morning.”

“Morning?” you yawned. “What time is it?”

“Twelve and a half.” he checked his phone. “Arón texted me, he said he’s waiting for us on the beach. About an hour ago.” he laughed at his phone, and you unlocked yours.

“Then, I guess I have to go get ready.” you stretched your back and stood up, looking for your swimsuit, but remained to admire the sea and the sun breaking through the window, comforting your skin.

Miguel came behind your back and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. You propped your head on his and enjoyed his soft kisses on your shoulder, caressing his hair with your hand, refusing to let anything ruin this moment. “Have you thought about what I asked you last night?”

”Yes.” you responded, but didn’t want to say anything much. You don’t have a response for his question yet.

”And?”

“I’m going in for a shower.” you moved away from his embrace and ignored his insistence. As a response to your unspoken invitation, he followed you to the bathroom with a hand placed on your back.

------- You watched Miguel playing football with his cast mates and hearty laughing at one of Arón’s jokes. All you could do was to think about that question, even Ester remarked your absence from the conversations and the lost look from your eyes. You were smiling like a dumb watching Miguel doing such banal things as swimming and talking with his friends, but everything he does is fascinating.

You closed your eyes and refused to move under the umbrella though the sun is burning your skin. The laughter of your friends combined with the sound of the breaking waves is the most relaxing thing you’ve ever heard, so laying down ignoring everyone was a clever idea for the moment, until you’ll figure out what you should do. You are there for only one hour, but you didn’t really enjoyed the time with his friends.

Someone is blocking the sunshine from delighting your body, so you opened your eyes and raised an eyebrow at the person in front of you. Omar is looking at you and beside him, Danna is holding some iced coffees. He reached out his hand to you and persisted though you were frowning at him. You grabbed his hand and he helped you stood up as you wrapped Miguel’s flowered t-shirt around yourself. You walked quietly to the baldaquin all the girls – and Omar– are hanging around, and Danna immediately pushed you down on it and they began the interrogatory.

“What’s going on with you? To be more specific, the two of you.” Omar asked as he handed you the iced coffee. You looked at Miguel and wondered if he is as moody as you because of that question.

“Miguel asked me to move in with him.” as soon as the words had been spoken out, you sip from your drink, trying to ignore the expansive smile that threatened to form on your face. Everyone started cheering excitedly, catching some questioning glances from your boyfriend. You are tracing one flower’s outline as Claudia approached and sat down next to you.

“And I guess the answer is obviously yes.” Omar laughed as he played with his leg on the sand.

“Well, not really.” you lay on your back and watch as the few clouds on the sky moves. 

“You refused him?” Danna jumped from her place a little and frowned at you.

“No, I just want to be sure is a wise decision. I just can’t afford to fuck up with money to move around from Sevilla to Madrid and back if this is not gonna work.” you covered your face and sighed.

“You are seriously questioning his love for you?” Ester asked sarcastically and you turned to look at her face. She is pretty serious, but she has a lovely smile painted on her face. “We thought he proposed because he always tells us how much he loves you. I don’t think moving in would be a bad decision, but keeping this love of yours at the level of a long-distance relationship would be.”

 Her words made you think about it from another point of view. You love Miguel; you love his smile, his freckles, his mind and his happiness. You always thought he is the other half you’ve been searching for, but you are too young to think about the marriage, you are too young and you didn’t want to plan the future now, you are just trying to live the present with Miguel.  You always though moving together is a big step for a couple, it means commitment and it can also scream that you think about a future together. But maybe that’s what you need, you need some place where only the two of you to belong to. You need something just for you at this moment. 

You shake your head and abandoned your coffee on the table next to the baldaquin. Everyone looked at you with confusion, but you just ignored them and, with small but precise steps approached Miguel. A few meters apart from him and you just ran and jumped on his back. You took him by surprise, but he managed to hold you tight and you laughed at the sight of the boys’ expression. 

As the game was interrupted, everyone spread and Miguel walked down the beach with him on his back. “Have you already booked the flight back home?” you asked as you jumped off of him and looked him in his beautiful blue eyes. They are indeed as blue and relentless as the sea on the stormiest night. 

“No, not yet. Why?” he clasped his hand with yours, and you just continued walking down the seashore. 

“Maybe we can take a detour in Sevilla first.”

“I thought you were going to stay in Madrid a few days before you’re going home.” he frowned and stopped from moving. He was disappointed, he thought he had the chance to spend some days alone with you, just with you, before you head back home and return to the usual facetime and texting. “I thought maybe Madrid would want to be my home.” you smiled at him, though he needed a few seconds to process the information you just gave him.

“I think it would be happy to be your home. I will be.” 

He smiled and attacked your lips with the most slow and passionate kiss, pressing his lips over yours, building a bridge so that your love could travel through your bodies. A moment like this should be celebrated in a unique way, but you couldn’t do that properly because of his friends whistling and clapping hands at you.

[thisstableground]

@crayolapumpkins asked me for ITH gang birthday headcanons!

usnavi doesn’t do birthdays. or, more accurately, usnavi does not do his own birthday, which is in early january and to him is nothing more than a breath of relief signalling that life can go back to a post-december normal. he tries to hide from it either by saying that whatever three kings day celebration happens a couple days before is a joint celebration, or by acting like he has a lot of work to do, but he ends up getting dragged into at least dinner and cake because nobody is gonna let him spend his entire birthday reorganising bodega shelves. he more than makes up for this lack of enthusiasm about his own birthday by having six times more enthusiasm than anyone else about other people’s.

vanessa doesn’t care much about gifts, it’s the party she’s here for. she actually kicks off proceedings in the worst way, by going to visit her mom and having a coffee together, but only because that gets the shitty part over with so she can really enjoy herself. brunching out with dani and carla. an afternoon on video chat with nina. dinner with usnavi. the club with whoever she can persuade to come with her, and when she’s there she knows so many people that she’s got no shortage of hugs and selfies and free drinks flowing all night.

im not sure about nina while she’s at stanford – probably a night out with her college friends, at their persuading - but i can very clearly picture nina’s birthdays when she was a little kid. she’d get mostly books and then have to suffer through a dinner that seems to last for eternity, because even though she loves it when her family and the de la vegas and vanessa and abuela are all together, she wants to be left alone to really enjoy her new presents. definitely has her new book under the table while she’s eating and her dad keeps telling her to stop reading and enjoy her birthday and she’s like “??? i Am enjoying it, i’ve been waiting for this part of the series for MONTHS”

benny always has a big night out somewhere, but lowkey the kind of birthday he enjoys best is just kicking back with a beer and a couple of his closer friends, done when his birthday falls on a weekday so they have to wait till the weekend for a big night out (which inevitably only some people can attend, and very rarely is usnavi able to come out for very long, if he manages at all) and can’t go too crazy on the day itself. he likes mingling his favourite people from the different social groups he’s part of, and how even when his friends aren’t close with each other they all get on well, and that there isn’t really any pressure to have fun because he’s with people who he’ll always have fun with even if they don’t do anything at all.

when sonny’s rolls around it is very, very obvious that he is the precious baby of the barrio and has been adored and somewhat spoiled because of it. sonny does not have a birthday, he has a birth month. he is of the opinion that if he just decides hard enough that it’s still his birthday then nobody can disagree with him. he displays all of the many, many  cards he gets around the cash register where they are extremely in the way so that everyone can see that he has Successfully Grown Another Year Older. “sonny, get back to work” “on my birthday?!?!” “that was three weeks ago!!” “my cards are still up!” “only ‘cause you put them back up after i took them down!” “yeah, because it’s my birthday!”

carla is also someone who you will hear saying “it’s my birthday!” at least sixty times on the day. this is because she wants a  hug from every single person she meets. it is very hard to say no to these hugs, look at her face. she is an absolute joy to buy presents for: if you’ve ever wondered who the person that ridiculous novelty gifts from greetings cards shops were made for, it’s carla. teddy bear holding a heart with “have a beary good birthday!” on it? she loves it. comically large wine glass with sparkles on it? she has three. birthday tiara? give her the birthday tiara she deserves it

the rosarios use their birthdays to take an evening off work and go out to dinner together, same place every year. there is rarely a day the rest of the year when both of them are off at once. they’ve been together a long time and have very strong, often conflicting opinions, which is no different on birthdays: while getting ready, there will  be arguments about kevin being late back from the dispatch and about camila doing things round the house that don’t actually need doing this immediate minute, and grumbling about the person on the phone who took their reservation at the restaurant and a million other small things. but then as they are finally going out the door, kevin smiles at camila as she checks her lipstick one last time and says, “you just like you did the day i met you” even though this is untrue because they were both still teenagers at the time. she takes his offered arm as they walk to the restaurant together and reminisce about all the same stories of the old days that they reminisce about every single time

dani celebrates in a true dani style that is a perfect split between extremely classy and extremely not. there’s dinner at a restaurant, there’s wine and laughter and treating herself to a decadent dessert, and then after that there’s everyone going back to her place to get absolutely fuckin blasted on gin cocktails. dani gets exactly the right level of drunk to enjoy herself while still being able to remember every sordid detail the next day, when she can swan into the salon looking like she’s never touched a drop of drink in her life while vanessa and carla are groaning through hangovers and she’ll clap loudly and say “so you’ll never believe who i caught getting very close last night after dinner”

of his own accord pete wouldn’t give a damn about his birthday, except that sonny is vehemently insistent that pete will celebrate his birthday and he will like it. “do i get a choice about that” pete says, every year, and every year sonny is like “no. now open this card next, i made usnavi sign it and i think it broke him.”

claudia does not really expect people to remember her birthday: after so many of them, she barely keeps track herself, and they always seem to show up so much faster than she’s expecting, so that every single year she’s surprised and delighted by the cards and flowers and food and people waving at her when she passes them in the street to shout well-wishes because even though she hardly keeps track everyone else certainly thinks that her birthday is something very much worth remembering (she and usnavi are very similar in very many ways.)

[florenceandthemachine]

i need u to talk to me about stiles and jackson and their baby girl. i need u to talk to me about how they name her claudia and how they spoil the actual everloving shit out of her and how all the single moms at the supermarket lose their entire minds when they see jackson walking around with her strapped to his chest and how stiles absolutely cannot blame them because his man is literally the world’s biggest dilf. i need u to talk to me about happy domestic stackson thank u and goodnight.

Honestly boo, I told you I had to prepare for this and sit down at a computer and I accidentally wrote a novel. But I had to, because here’s the thing.

Nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.

Stiles would start recounting the happiest moments in his life by talking about the time he almost died in high school (he remembers it fondly). Not because he’s fond of the fact that he almost died, but because while he was lying on Deatons table, bleeding out, pixie claws still dug too deeply into his chest, Jackson kissed him for the first time. Jackson was crying, and he was crying, and Jackson was begging him to stay alive, and Stiles, honestly, could have died a happy man right then and there with Jackson kissing him.

He and Jackson get married, less than a year after Stiles graduates with his masters in mythology and Jackson finishes an associates degree in Criminal Justice. Stiles gets a part time job in a local library, and Jackson starts work as his dads newest officer, and Stiles never lets him forget how good the uniform looks on him; and, he thinks as he looks over Jackson, writhing beneath him, cuffed to the headboard, it looks even better off of him.

(The wedding is a small ceremony, with the pack and Stiles’ dad there. Stiles cries the entire time. Jackson only makes fun of him a little. When the justice of the peace asks if they’ll be hyphenating their last names, Jackson snorts and takes Stiles hand and “no, absolutely not. I’ve been waiting my entire life to be a Stilinski.” Stiles cries again. Jackson just beams at him, the asshole.

[Later that night, Lydia almost passes out when a group of rouge banshees breech their territory, screeching like… well, banshees. It happens during their wedding reception, of course, because as previously stated, nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.])

They live together. They love each other. They love the pack. They still do things like patrols, once in a while, and of course it’s during a patrol that their life flips again.

They’ve only been back in town for a week after taking some time off for their wedding anniversary when they come across a woman on the side of the road. Jackson is still in full uniform and swoops in (Stiles swoons, he can admit it) to help the very dirty, very young woman, and her very small, very loud, very much a newborn, infant. The woman is crying, talking about how she didn’t mean for this to happen, she doesn’t know what to do, and the baby is crying because it’s a baby. Stiles is out of the car right behind Jackson, jacket in arms, ready to help warm the baby up.

In hindsight, he probably should have realized something was up when the woman seemed all too eager to let Stiles take the child from her. Because in less than three seconds, when Jackson and he are both focused on the baby, the woman is gone.

Whelp.

~

Jackson takes to caring for a child immediately. While Stiles is meeting with a social worker and loading a bassinet into the Jeep, Jackson bounces her in his arms—god, she couldn’t be more than three months old—and Stiles has to stop himself from looking, worried he might start to want something he can’t have. High school Stiles would have been shocked by the sight, but older, wiser Stiles knows that Jackson is one of the most caring, warm people on the planet, just beneath a crunchy exterior. Stiles loves him for it, so much, but watching the two of them interact makes his bones ache. The social worker assures him it will be temporary. Two weeks at the most, before they’re able to find some blood relation.

Two weeks turns into three, and three turns into five, and soon Stiles has worked their routine around a child that they just call “baby” because they have no right to name it (“and besides, Jacks, it’s not like she’ll remember any of this anyway”).

Stiles is glad, though, that he’s not the first one to approach the topic of adoption. Their idiot social worker does, when five weeks turns into three months with no luck. The topic comes up, about what a match they would be, and how well they work with the baby, and Stiles rudely cuts her off by dragging Jackson into the hall, knowing that Jackson wolfing out was the least of their concerns if the conversation carried on any further down that path.

Because at the mere mention of adoption, confident, smooth Jackson almost broke Stiles hand squeezing so hard. His eyes widen minutely, his smile freezes in place, and to the untrained eye, it might seem like Jackson was just a little surprised. Stiles knows Jackson well enough to know that his husband just plunged into a hell of his own making, through stress and fears and issues that years of therapy have eased, but not entirely. Sure enough, no sooner than the door closes is Jackson leaned against the wall, clutching Stiles close to him, breathing in his scent as Stiles soothes him.

His heart is breaking as he tells Jackson it’s okay. They don’t have to adopt her. It’s just an option. And he knows he’s a terrible liar but he isn’t lying when he said he would never ask Jackson to do anything that he isn’t comfortable with.

It takes a good twenty minutes before Jackson calms down enough to pull back from the embrace, eyes red with tears and hands shaking. But it’s with the same stubborn determination that he approaches everything with—everything he really wants—even if his voice is shaking when he meets Stiles eyes.

“I want, Stiles. I… I do. With you.”

Stiles can only smile, his heart soaring, terrified but optimistic. He clears his throat to speak, but once more, Jackson beats him to the punch.

“We could name her Claudia.”

Stiles is crying again.

~

Less than a week later, as Stiles is pouring over every single parenting book he could find, Jackson makes a grand entrance into their bedroom and announces that he got Claudia to go to sleep. In the same breath, he tells Stiles that he’s transferred his entire inheritance into a college fund in her name.

Stiles drops the book he’s holding and pulls Jackson to the bed with such vigor (in the name of higher education) that he’s shocked they don’t end up waking the baby.

~

They are both passable parents, but if you ask either of them, it’s because Claudia is such a chill fucking baby. She cries when she’s hungry and that’s about it. She naps when she wants to, she chatters when she wants to, she giggles and grabs Jackson’s sideburns when he wolfs out for her amusement. She has Jackson wrapped around her finger in no time flat, and when she takes her first steps well before her first birthday, Jackson is the asshole dad in Mommy and Me class talking about how advanced his baby is. Stiles would find it really annoying, but something about watching Jackson push a shopping cart with a baby strapped to his chest makes him forget anything but love. He’s a sap.

Getting Jackson one of those baby bjorn things was the best ideas of Stiles’ entire life, because there was nothing that Stiles loved more than watching Jackson go on his early morning run, in a tank top and shorts, nasty green smoothie in hand—and a baby strapped to his chest. Stiles wasn’t sure what he loved more—getting the early morning kiss from his husband (and puckering up to smack one on his daughters head), or the deeper, sweatier, longer kiss that Jackson woke him up with after coming back from his run, which Stiles regularly fed back into, tugging Jackson into the bed without a second thought.

Jackson loved any time he could spend with his daughter, but his favorite times by far were the random days that he had off. Call him... boring, or old fashioned, or lame, or— “Jackson, shut up. There is nothing wrong with spending time with your family. We’re your family, you idiot, we love spending time with you too.” ...well, whatever the case, he loved it. Running errands on a Saturday became a family affair. 

The old ladies in the natural grocer near their home love them. Stiles take full advantage of that, kissing his husband and cooing at his baby whenever they’re nearby to score an extra free sample of free range bacon or to get the latest gossip from the retirement home. He has a few of them on Sheriff Watch, and it would honestly be sad that Stiles’ dad couldn’t eat a jelly doughnut anywhere in town without Stiles knowing about it If it weren’t so funny.

Stiles finds his natural enemies in the yoga moms, though. Or at least, he would, if Jackson wasn’t Jackson. He could honestly watch hours of these single moms trying to flirt with Jackson in the produce aisle, while Stiles is standing right next to him, only to have Jackson completely dote on their kid and completely ignore them. He only intervenes once, when a busty blond thirty something mother of three reaches forward to pinch Claudia’s cheek. Stiles smiles, reaches forward, gently pulls the woman’s wrist away, and tells her that if she ever touches his daughter again, he will break her arm.

So maybe Jackson wasn’t the only one Claudia had wrapped around her pudgy fingers.

~

Claudia’s first word is “Papa”, directed solely at Jackson, and Stiles... well, Stiles couldn’t even find it in himself to be jealous, because Jackson was staring at Claudia in shock and wonder, and Stiles is falling in love all over again with him. Jackson takes in a deep breath and smiles, letting her grab on to both of his fingers, his voice crushingly soft as he nods his head.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m your Papa, and you’re my baby girl. Can you say baby? Bayyy-bee?”

She giggles and smacks him in the cheek, and the moment is over, but Jackson’s smile will be burned into Stiles brain forever. 

(Two months later, Jackson is trying to get a clean onesie on a very fussy Claudia when Stiles walks in, and she goes ramrod straight in his arms, reaching for Stiles, making grabby motions and yelling “Dada! Dada!” in her adorably desperate little baby voice. Jackson feels his heart swell as Stiles jaw hits the floor, but only for a moment, before he swoops in and plucks their daughter from his arms.)

~

Things are easy with them, and honestly, Stiles should have been suspicious—because, rule of thumb, nothing is ever easy with Stiles and Jackson. Claudia is two and things are easy. Claudia is two and she falls while toddling across the kitchen. Claudia is two and Stiles is picking her up, comforting her while Jackson kisses her booboo. Claudia is two, in Stiles arms, her tears turning into laughter. Claudia is two, and she hiccups, and suddenly Claudia has golden eyes, sharp little nails, and an alarming amount of facial hair for a two year old.

Stiles and Jackson both freeze—Stiles, because in all the parenting books he has read, nothing has prepared him for the possibility of raising a werewolf baby. Jackson freezes for a slightly more dramatic reason, his own eyes burning blue in response to his daughters gold, mouth hanging open in shock. She’s not crying anymore, at least, and Stiles can count that as a win. Hell, out of the three of them, the person who is most surprised is Claudia, who is now giggling and smacking Stiles’ cheeks, clearly enjoying the hollow sound his gaping mouth makes when hit.

Stiles immediately invites everyone over, thinking it would be easier to show everyone in person. Derek will need to do some Alpha thing to cement her place in the pack, he rationalizes, pacing the living room while texting up a storm, and Jackson... Jackson is nervous for reasons he doesn’t fully know how to articulate, bouncing Claudia on his hip. He’s come a long way since he was the angry, self obsessed sixteen year old, asking for the bite, and he knows that, but there will always be a small part of him that worries Derek is on the verge of kicking him out. He’s can feel his heart picking up as he starts to sink into his own thoughts, because what if Derek—

He doesn't get a chance to follow that rabbit hole, because a tiny, disgruntled noise is all it takes from Claudia to garner Stiles entire attention, and it isn’t even a second before Stiles is up close and personal.

“I know that look. Jackson, stop thinking. This doesn’t change anything—they already love her, and they already love you. Now they just know to count her in for future training sessions and full moon parties. Breathe, baby. Claudia and I are here to stay.”

Jackson doesn’t know when his anchor expanded to include their daughter, but honestly, it probably always did.

Erica and Boyd show up first, Erica heavily pregnant with their own kid, and Scott and Kira arrive shortly after—they’ve been looking into following their lead in the adoption game, though Stiles secretly wished any adoption they go through was no where near as eventful as theirs. Derek arrives last, unintentionally making the dramatic entrance he’s known for, and he is barely in the door for a half moment before he freezes, eyes wide, looking at the baby in Jackson’s arms. 

In his surprise, he moves quickly, too quick for Jackson’s liking—Derek is an arms reach away from him and Jackson growls, his eyes flaring blue, instinctively clutching Claudia closer to his chest. Stiles swallows and grips Jackson’s hand a little tighter, gearing up for this to be A Thing, and the rest of them are equally confused, considering they are still looking at a purely human child. One that Derek has babysat for, for fucks sake. Derek, though, has a huge grin on his face, and moves much slower as he reaches to put a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. 

Derek takes a knee and takes Claudia’s little pudgy hand in his own, and honestly, it would be a hilarious sight, except Derek’s eyes are burning red and Claudia wolfs out immediately, sitting shock still, mesmerized by Derek’s own eyes. It only lasts for a moment before she’s screams with joy, reaching for Derek’s sideburns, but Derek is already standing again, pulling Stiles and Jackson into a hug. The air almost crackles with electricity and even tiny, human Stiles feels something settle as the new pack bond takes form, with Derek’s arms tight around the two of them—

—the three of them, sorry, because Claudia is currently giggling like a fool from where she’s more or less suspended between the two wolves.

~

It was kind of perfect. Derek’s first beta raising the first born wolf of their new pack. If Stiles could pause that moment in time, he would have. Because raising a toddler was easy when Claudia was a relatively chill human baby. Now, though, it was like she had been saving up all her energy for the past two years—and now that her wolf was awake, it was time to let it loose.

Claudia became a terror. A terror they loved, of course, but a terror none the less because apparently “the terrible twos” were a very real thing, even for werewolves. She pushed every limit and every boundary, getting to the point where even Derek was wary about agreeing to babysit—Derek, the worlds biggest pushover when it came to babies. “No” became her favorite word at two—by three, it was “stop”—and when she was four, she had only one thing to say to a very sleep deprived, very emotional Stiles when he brought down the wrong pair of shoes for their weekly trip to see Papa for lunch.

“No, daddy, no! I want blue shoes, not green shoes! You never listen to me! I hate you! I hate you!”

Stiles was aware that he’s probably a little hysterical at that point—but when he hears that, something inside of him just breaks. He drops the shoes and just stands there and has to remind himself to breathe, and suddenly he’s crying, and somehow Claudia’s tantrum is over before it even begins. The first tear falls, and then ten seconds later his arms are full of his daughter, frantically scrambling to be close to him, apologizing profusely for being mean, her shouts turning into tears of her own.

Stiles is beyond comprehension at this point, but it feels like a switch has been flipped, as he and his daughter dissolve into tears while sitting on the kitchen floor.

At some point, Jackson comes home when he realizes he’s being stood up for lunch. They had more or less calmed down; though they were still on the kitchen floor, Stiles had fished his tablet off of the counter and was entertaining her with old pictures—of his mother, of Jackson in high school, of her as a baby. 

He had just flicked to a picture of the three of them on Claudia’s adoption day—Stiles was beaming at the camera as his dad snapped a photo, and Jackson had a look of wonder on his face, looking down at the tiny baby swaddled in Jackson’s arms. Like he was summoned by the photo itself, Jackson comes in through the side door after parking his cruiser, takes less than three seconds to assess the situation (husband and child; on floor. scents; tears and sadness. threat level; moderate.) before shucking his utility belt and his badge and scooping them both into his arms. Claudia is crying again, but softer this time, still worn out from her earlier tantrum, apologizing in between hiccups for being so mean, but nothing could prepare either of them for the tumble of words that leaves her lips as she buries her face into Jackson’s shoulder.

“You and Daddy are still gonna keep me, right?”

Jackson is heartbroken, but... not surprised. He had gone through the same thing, more times than he can count, growing up. His parents had always brushed it off with platitudes—don’t be silly, Jackson, you’re overreacting Jackson. He finally had the chance to right some of their wrongs, the seriousness in his voice reflecting 

“You got mad, and that happens sometimes. Daddy and I can get mad sometimes too. But we never stay mad at one another, and we always apologize, right sweetpea?”

He waits for Claudia to nod before he continues, aware that Stiles is staring at him too.

“Well, you already apologized to Daddy and I. You apologized because you realize you made a mistake, and it’s okay to make mistakes. You apologize because you love us, and we love you too. We love you, Claudia. And we are never, ever going to let you go.”

(Stiles and Claudia fall asleep in Jackson’s arms, and Jackson takes a selfie, sending it to the sheriff with an apology for missing his afternoon shift. He waits until the Sheriff responds, with a laughing emoji of all things [who taught him how to do that?!], before uploading it to their digital album too.)

~

When Claudia turns five, she begs for a ladybug party at the Hale House with all her “woofpack”. Honestly, Stiles was just thankful that Derek was an absolute pushover for all of the kids in the pack—between all of their original betas, there were six little rats running around at any given time, four of which were human, and Derek was a sucker for all of them.

(Boyd and Erica’s son had popped his fangs five days earlier. Claudia is ecstatic to have a new member of her woofpack. Jackson spends a lot of time playing with the baby chubby cheeks. Stiles grins and gives them a very brief warning about the terrible twos, before calling this karmic payback for the time Erica clocked him with a piece of his own Jeep, because he will never let that go.)

Stiles was just happy that it meant he didn’t have to clean up after the party, even if he did spend the entire night beforehand icing about a million ladybug cupcakes.

“It was three dozen, Stiles, and you’re the one who didn’t want to pay a baker to make them.”

“Aw, thanks babe, your devotion and respect for me really knows no bounds.”

Jackson smirks at him and Stiles smooshes a cupcake against his nose, throwing his head back in laughter as Jackson pulls back, looking incredibly offended. They’re on the second story balcony overlooking the yard, and Stiles is only half paying attention to Jackson’s protests as he hears shrieks of joy coming from the grass below. Their daughter is running through the field with a red and black cape flying behind her, eyes gold with mirth as she avoids Erica’s outstretched hand in what appears to be a very fair game of tag.

He lets his free hand sneak into Jackson’s, like it was some kind of secret—Jackson, who has no chill, pulls him close, arms going around him from behind. Stiles laughs again as he turns to his husband, basking in the warmth that pools in his chest with another happy shriek sounds from his family below.

“Hey Jacks?”

“Yeah baby?”

Nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.

“… I want another one.”

And neither of them would change a damn thing.

[wo-wann-was-wer]

EPISODE 5:

I'm so sad Regina got buried in the woods

these fucking comparison shots are amazing

someone just tried to text me and I low-key flipped out because I was like you need to leave me the fuck alone

What if he just took her jacket and was like this is mine bitch

Katharina looks so dope with glasses

I'm so into her being the rock of this family by the way which I was never surprised by because women have the strength of 6 million men but

we've literally never seen Charlotte and her dad interact (like for reals)

That's one of the problems of this show is that some relationships fell by the wayside and I'm not a fan of that

did Charlotte drop herself off on the stoop

That's Tannhaus baby is somewhere because they never found the body of that infant so that infant is somebody.

yeah I literally can't imagine finding something like this out I'd lose my fucking mind

"who am I?" "I don't know" wow that's a fuck of a thing

Wow Claudia from the other universe That's fucking me up

Also what if Claudia from the other universe is the fucking bitch who has been fucking with us this whole time AKA the white devil

Also when are we going to see Noah again because I need to see Elisabeth and Noah together falling in love because I stan

worried about her Please tell us what happened to her I'm concerned

This actress has to be at least partially deaf and or hard of hearing because number one her ASL is fluent and she even emotes some words right? Idk

I do not trust this other Claudia as far as I could fucking throw her

This show is like the debate between Democrats and Republicans every fucking party is trying to convince everybody else that they are the ones that's trying to save the world and both of them behind closed doors are like all right how do we fuck the people in the asshole

I can't help wondering if this wouldn't have happened if we understood the half-lives of radioactive materials

so is all of this coming back to 1986 Is that the the origin time

And then do what What are you going to do with fucking 250 radioactive barrels The fuck you talking about

The scratches on the other side of her face and I don't know why it's on the other side of her face but it's on the other side of her face and it's concerning me

does that mean something's going to go different like

Jonas is out here like why did the adults lie to me

Oh my God after three seasons he's finally realizing not to listen to other people good boy

Oh Peter and Charlotte bonded over having fucked up families

Peter's mom is dead and he didn't know who his father was

Also babies

Also the way that he embodies Peter is fucking insane

I'm so into Charlotte with this curly hair

Oh my God who is this

Elisabeth run baby girl. too late. we've gone this long without sexual assault if they touch this child I'm going to lose my damn mind

Peter is going to kill this man

Elizabeth kill him Peter kill him if Peter dies is the hands of this dude I'm going to lose my fucking mind get back from my baby get back from my fucking cinnamon roll I'm going to kill you Elizabeth stab him the back stab him the back Elizabeth your daddy has a knife at his neck NOOOO PETER NOOOOOOOOOO NOOOOO FUCK

I literally will never forgive them for killing Peter why are the dopplers the most important and most tragic family

he never did anything to anybody

Katharina please kill your abusive mother She deserves it

everybody on this show is super into bludgeoning nobody likes shoots anybody else everybody fucking bludgeons everybody

No can I watch this abusive fucking bitch is going to hit you No Don't let her kill you Don't let her kill you

Is Katharina dead why are they taking my favorite people

she doesn't even get justice for how her mom treats her it's not fair. and now Ulrich is still stuck inside the asylum

oh thank God Noah is here because I was so worried about my baby

Wait what is going on. Oh Jonas has never died before This is exciting

oh wait there's only one Jonas damnit

EPISODE 6:

Even though it's not working for everyone I do really love the 1888 look on Jonas

I did not expect that Aleksander was going to tell Bartosz about his real identity

This shit is so uncomfortable.

Ulrich needs a real stop telling the women that he's fucking to stop coming to his household

It's like the penny traveled through time GASPPPPPPP

Jonas What the fuck did you come from

all my fucking pussy friends are bothering me from finishing this show YALL GOT STUPID PROBLEMS STAND UP FOR YOURSELF AND THEN THIS WONT HAPPEN

I'm going to say this every single time he's on screen but this beard is too good

I think that bartosz may be the most scorned member of this entire group he never gets any pussy and it's so sad

I'm super over this really creepy really ugly fucking dude I want him to leave I also kind of don't believe that he's the child of Martha and Jonas

Oh I absolutely love love love them holding hands and then going back to a shot of them holding hands as kids

why are they such a good couple I really like them but I also always have

I'm not super sure I understand why they had to leave bartosz behind

I don't trust a single of these fucking adults I'm just any of them including themselves when they become adults

This is like a suicide squad. This is the weirdest collection of people What is this team. What are they doing. since when are these people are working together. omg

Oh shit a child born of both worlds takes both worlds energies to destroy it. But that's what causes the apocalypse

Well this is super fucked up

everything that's happening in this final montage sequence is bad news

all of it

why do I Stan Noah and Elisabeth so much

omg Hannah is giving birth is NOW the time

wow this is a lot

EPISODE 7:

our perspective is what makes definitive reality

I'm confused about the gravestone that says Charlotte on it

Also yes give me more Elizabeth and Noah please please please

This is absolutely crazier than any shit doc Brown ever did But he was also trying to build a time machine in the 1890s so that's fun

Oh is this how he gets all the fucking scars

My goodness what is happening What is going to happen I'm getting stressed.

There's only two episodes left I feel like they're not answering my questions I'm worried

What happened to wöller

What is silja doing here

This is bullshit she's like drawing him in

Oh that's a surprise so silja is a tiedemann

why is it always like I feel like I know what's happening and then around episode 6 or 7 I just completely lose the plot

oh wow Jonas almost straight up died but Noah saved him

‘you can't die’ points a gun at him

Oh my God you can't kill yourself because you've already grown

oop well after that birth happened I had to take about 5 minutes to pause my brain and factor that in

yo I knew Tannhaus was going to figure in fucking more than he did

Is he the one who builds the cage

does this seem like a good idea or does this seem like a bad idea

shooting yourself What do you think that feels like

everybody's on a different team there are too many teams It went from like a presidential race to a March madness bracket There's so many fucking people involved everybody's got their own goddamn plan

folks I just want to emphasize here that we have an episode and a half to tie all this up

Oh shit universe A Claudia infiltrated universe B Claudia

I love what they did with the place after the fire It looks really nice It's a different vibe but it's good

so Eve made the plans for the machine

Wait what She died. 

I can't believe that Elizabeth and Charlotte have to be the ones to drop off Charlotte as an orphan

Oh noooooooooooo Jonas didn't do it!!!!

Oh my God don't make me feel sympathy for Hannah

he looks so fucked up 

bye hannah we won't miss you

but also hate leaving a child without their parents

Tell us what's on the last page and tell us what happened to woller's eye

All right now we're seeing how everybody got to where they were like the first fucking time

I love this walk down memory lane it's literally just the stylized recap of the show right before the final episode which is 10/10

watch your face girl

too late

Omg what does this mean 

THE FINALE:

This show is just Claudia Tiedemann Lurking: the TV show

Also the bullshit that he had to live through all of this in order to get to the end makes me really sad

yeah wait who's the fucking father of Regina

been way too sucked in

also. WE LOVE TO SEE A TIME TRAVEL TACKLE

WAS THIS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL DAY IN STUTTGART

How many times are going to burn this place down

how many versions of this fucking machine do they have they're always like oh God we don't have a way here or there FUCKING LIARS

I can't believe that the thesis of this show is teenage hormones cause the apocalypse

Adam and Eve are such fucking children it's so stupid. 

reunion nnnnnnnnnnn

Oh shit he fucked up your plan huh

No I don't want it to end

I wish everybody didn't cry so much everybody so sad all the time

yup what in the actual fuck is happening

yo this is fucking wild

these baby Martha and Jonas are so cute

Not sure where we're going with this folks what's happening here wrap it up shit

I'm really obsessed with this golden snitch

It's just making me so sad

oh they're becoming stardust together

this is a weird cover but I'll take it

everything is going back to normal

but without Jonas and Martha and Claudia

if they don't tell us what happened to his eye I'm gonna flip out

I CAME HERE TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO WOLLER’S EYE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Also what does this ending line mean its stressing me out

Well thats it. Three years of my life. Damn

[beatricethecat2]

NOTE: Sorry for the repost, but a friend told me this installment was not showing up in a tag search (it was not). So I took out all the links and am trying again. Look back through my Tumblr for previous installments!

* * * * * * *

"Chill for a minute! You're making me nervous," Myka says.

"I'll not miss the performance because of a third-rate watchman," Helena huffs.

"Abigail said she'd sort this out."

"Abigail got us into this."

"She didn't slug him."

"He tackled me."

"You grabbed the book and ran."

"And I'd have succeeded were it not for that wandering child," Helena gruffs. "Who brings a child to theater?"

"You wouldn't have brought Christina?"

"Were she old enough and properly dressed, yes. That child was in dungarees."

"They probably came to see the exhibition not the matinee—"

"We're not dressed properly either," Helena grumbles, swiping dirt off a pant leg.

"Theater's not as formal as it used to be. And you did put your hair up," Myka says, flashing a feeble smile.

"And now it's mussed. It wasn't much to look at to begin with." Helena fusses with her bun.

"Hey, I think you look really nice," Myka says, reaching over, stilling Helena's hands.

"This is hardly theater attire."

"It's the Oregon Shakespeare Festival not the Met Opera."

"Attending the theater used to mean something." Helena's hands drop to her lap.

"It still does, but not corsets and gowns." Myka raises a brow. "Would you have worn a dress if this was a real date?"

"I very well may have. I'd certainly have made more of an effort."

"A nineteenth or twenty-first century effort?

"May I not embody both?"

"Yeah, but I'm just noticing you sort of default to the nineteenth when you're around me."

"And you disapprove."

"No. It think it's kind of sweet. I like that you don't have to hide who you are with me." Myka bumps her shoulder into Helena's.

"And to think, I once yearned to live in a future such as this. I'd no clue how exhausting it'd be being out of time."

"It'll get easier," Myka says, meeting Helena's unsure gaze. She leans towards Helena and Helena follows suit, their lips nearly touching when a door slamming in the distance halts the action.

"So, um...when's the last time you saw Shakespeare?" Myka asks, recomposing herself.

Helena thinks back. "Hamlet, in Stratford; Sarah Bernhardt as lead. We'd travelled specifically to see her, as it was unusual for a woman to play a male's part. She was her bombastic self, but watching Shakespeare translated into French was odd. I may have opinions about the American accent as well."

"Oh you will."

"Flipping through those gravures on display really took me back. Then the cabinet cards...are you familiar with those actors?"

"No."

"Such a shame," Helena says, pushing up from her slouch to sit upright.  "Ellen Terry, she who worked so very hard to elevate the acting profession for women and men; Lillie Langtree, the beauty who pulled her reputation up from the mud through her craft; Violet Vanbrugh, locked in competition with her sister for the spotlight...celebrities, one and all, yet seeing them now, they feel like lost friends." 

Helena sighs deeply and looks away. "When I snatched the book, my mind was no longer present. Hence the guard getting a jump on me."

"It's going to work out," Myka says, flashing a comforting smile.

"How exactly is Abigail remedying this? I heard little of your hushed conversation earlier," Helena says, narrowing her eyes at Myka.

"She's convincing them to put it back so we can swap it with a copy she's sending."

"Could she not have done so previously?"

"With Artie out of town, she's scrambling to keep up."

"How exactly is she convincing them?"

"She's, um..." Myka looks down at her lap and adjusts her wrist watch. "Do you actually need to know?"

"I do now," Helena says, swerving in her seat to face Myka.

"She's posing as your therapist."

"And I'm a babbling idiot."

"No...our pitch is you're obsessed with Victoriana."

"Convenient," Helena grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do you want to see the play or not?"

"What do you think?"

"I think we wouldn't be here at all if Abigail hadn't asked us to snag volume nine of 'The Illustrated Library of Shakespeare.' And I think she'll fix this for now so we can see a play like two normal people who see plays. We'll worry about the book tomorrow."

Helena's scowl stays firmly in place.

"I'll make it up to you tonight at the hotel," Myka says, eyes pleading.

"Placating me for performing the Warehouse's bidding is not in the least desirable—"

"Ooh, look, he's coming out," Myka says, patting Helena's leg as she rises to talk to the head of security. "Stay here."

Helena stays put but her scowl grows all consuming.

-END SCENE-

------------------

Bering and Wells: Field Trip ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 7 Title: Oregon: To one thing constant never

Summary: With Warehouse staff stretched thin, Myka and Helena are asked to dash from Myka's parents to The Oregon Shakespeare Festival. The pickup hits a snag when Helena, lost in memories, bungles the retrieval. Emotions run high when Helena reveals an unshakable impulse that threatens their newfound bliss.

Previously:(look at the archive of my site)

------------------

BONUS SCENE

The next day, in the parking in the lot of the festival, freshly off the phone from the Warehouse, Myka turns to Helena.

"Artie's booking us a flight. He wants us to bring the book in person—"

"We are not altering our plans again," Helena sneers. "He can pick it up from us."

"I think he needs it sooner," Myka mumbles. "It'll be quick, just a day or two. Maybe we can push our bookings up?"

"As if that's worked in the past."

"True," Myka says, shoulders slumping as she sighs defeatedly. "Then we'll skip Mendocino and head straight to San Francisco from there. I'll grab some of my stuff since we might stay in the city longer." She turns the key, revving the car to life.

"I'll drive to Mendocino and meet you in San Francisco. You go on to the Warehouse."

"But Artie said you can come," Myka explains, looking over her shoulder, backing out of their parking spot. She puts the car in drive and moves towards the exit.

"There's no reason for me to do so."

"But you haven't met Abigail. Or Steve, really. Plus Claudia's dying to see you—"

"Myka, I can't."

Myka steps on the brake and turns to face Helena. "Is this a Regent thing? Because Artie wouldn't have said you could come if you couldn't."

"It's not a Regent thing."

"Then what?" Myka huffs.

"We've not time to discuss this now."

"Then tell me the abbreviated version."

A honk from behind jolts them both.

"Alright, alright!" Myka grumbles, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"You go on. I'll follow our plan," Helena says. "I wish to feel the land shifting underfoot, as if Elizabeth, Christina, and I had made our way through California in my own day."

"Wouldn't that have been on a train? Or a carriage maybe?" Myka asks.

"Is a car not the modern equivalent?"

"I guess," Myka says, her face the picture of concern. "You know, most of San Francisco was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake. There's not much left from back then."

"No matter. It's the spirit in which it's encountered."

"Then I want to 'encounter' it with you."

"Then have them pick the book up from us. You're not obligated to obey their every beck and call."

"I guess not," Myka says, frowning as she stops at a red light.

"Their prerogative led us to rush here, waylaying our plans," Helena presses.

"And the plays."

"Which we may have seen, in our own time, had we not been browbeaten into a retrieval—"

"We weren't browbeaten, we were helping Abigail—"

"The light's green."

"I see that," Myka grumps, the car jerking forward as she presses on the gas too hard. "So that's why you won't come with me? You're mad we came here in the first place?"

"It more than that. My relationship with the Warehouse must remain distant. Better if I retain none at all."

"How exactly is that going to work? Because I live there."

"I'd rather not discuss this while you're driving."

"Then I'll stop." Myka flips her turn signal and veers left at an intersection. She swings into a parking lot turns off the engine. "You said I'm your One. That we're partners."

"You are both of those things to me."

"But you can't come to the Warehouse, maybe ever? Explain." Myka shifts in her seat to face Helena as fully as possible.

"I've come to understand distance may be the only remedy for certain...triggers."

"What triggers?"

"Where to start?"

"Anywhere, really," Myka gruffs, holding onto Helena's petulant gaze.

"A hundred years in bronze weighs heavy on one's soul."

"You were fine there before."

"Was I?"

"You said it was your tether!"

"I'd have said anything to—"

"Gain access, dupe everyone, and destroy the world. I know." Myka scowls. "But you wouldn't do that again."

"That's no longer my vice," Helena says.

"Then what is?"

Helena looks off into the distance. "A secondary plan, utilizing artifacts catalogued since my bronzing."

"W-What kind of plan?" Myka says, her back straightening.

"One in which Christina would be returned to me."

"Wait, you tried again when you were there?"

"How could I not?" Helena laments. "I've hatched countless schemes since."

"But you said you'd made peace with not having kids."

"Moving forward. But I may never find true peace with Christina's passing. Apparently, it's not uncommon."

"How do you know?"

"At the precinct, after particularly gruesome cases, they conducted psychological evaluations. I'd breezed through most, but one in particular, concerning the death of a little girl, was difficult to shake."

"Oh, Helena." Myka scoots forward and takes hold of Helena's hand. "What happened?"

"I recounted my story, albeit heavily modified, and learned about triggers. Avoiding them entirely was an acceptable solution, so the Warehouse...but you? You were a conundrum."

"I was a trigger, too." Myka slips her hand from Helena's but Helena grabs it back.

"You remained a symbol of hope, of all that was good in this world. I ached to be near you but feared disappointing you again. When you turned up in Montreal, I was drumming up the courage to approach you."

"But you weren't there yet."

"I wasn't," Helena says, squeezing Myka's hand. "Asking you to separate yourself from your home, from your calling, was difficult to justify. But after hearing of your illness, nothing else mattered but being by your side."

Helena cups Myka's jaw and strokes her cheek with a thumb. "But I must protect myself, and you, from those demons."

Helena shifts closer and guides their lips together. Their kiss lingers until Myka's phone rings.

"Artie," Myka says, answering in an instant. "We can't come. We'll keep the the book safe until someone can pick it up—"

Myka moves the phone away from her ear at Arties loud volume.

"Ok, ok! But H.G.'s not coming. Put me on a flight."

Myka places her hand over the microphone and glances at Helena. "He said Mrs. Frederic's there and 'needs it yesterday'—"

She's interrupted by Artie chiming in.

"I'm not taking a flight with two connections because it leaves tonight! Put me on a red eye."

Grumbling emanates from the other side of the phone.

"Five-thirty's fine. Send me the details."

More grumbling, then silence. Myka hangs up the phone.

"Artie seems his usual congenial self—"

"I'm really proud of you," Myka blurts, turning to face Helena again.

"Whatever for?" Helena asks, head tilting, brow furrowing.

"For fighting your demons on your own. Though I wish we'd been doing it together."

"From now on, we shall," Helena says, meeting Myka halfway as she leans in for another kiss.

Hands reach across the console, twining in hair, groping at necks, arms, shoulders, as if the space between them is too great.

Minutes later, a tap on the window jerks them apart.

"Ma'ams, bank won't open again until 9AM," a man says as Helena rolls down the window. "I'm going to have to ask to come back tomorrow."

"Bank?" Myka croaks, scanning the parking lot, eyes locking on a glowing sign at its entrance. "Oh, bank."

"Terribly sorry officer. We pulled over to take a call before becoming...distracted," Helena explains.

"Just a security guard, ma'am. But I'd appreciate it if you move on. I didn't want to disturb you but my manager's going to wonder why you were here so long."

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. We'd have been stealthier were anything afoot," Helena says with a wink.

"Helena!"

"Just reassuring the boy."

"We didn't mean to....we were just..." Myka stumbles over a more direct explanation.

"We've been granted one more night together before our separation."

"But we do have a hotel room."

"And mere hours before I'm to deliver you to the airport."

"True." Myka's lips push together, her face contorting into one of a new understanding. "Not enough hours. We should go."

"Thank you again for accommodating us," Helena says to the security guard.

"Um, sure?" he says as Helena rolls up the window.

"We'll make this work," Myka says, slipping a hand over Helena's thigh as she drives away. "I know we can."

"I adore your enthusiasm," Helena says, covering Myka's hand with her own, threading their fingers together.

-END-

-TBC-

NOTES: A quick reminder - this Christina is the daughter of Helena's original "One" back in the 1800's - Elizabeth. I think that story is in the second installment of this series. Also note this text probably pretty rough as I'm out of town and have sporadic internet (remember DSL?) and so haven't been able to use my usual text checkers (let me know if anything's super bad!) I'm putting it up now so I won't fuss over it as I'd like to not fuss over *anything* this week. Also, the first manip is one of my favorites - there's only one I can think of that tops it, but it's not public yet (I think you'll know when you see it.) Anyway, go to shakespeareillustration.org/photographs/ to see some of the people HG mentioned. And www.livabl.com/2015/09/panorama-san-francisco-earthquake.html for some of the amazing panoramas of the SF earthquake. Also Sarah Bernhardt - look her up, she was *quite* the character.

[brandossss]

( tommy martinez , 24 , cismale ) i  just  bumped  into  brando  esparza  the  other  day  while  walking  down  east  kingsboro , where  he  lives . i  hear  they  can  be  brave  and  impatient , but  when  i  think  of  them  i  immediately  think  of  ( venezuelan  pride , curly  hair , going  to  the  gym  literally  everyday ) 

tw : communism , corruption , poverty , violence , death  ( suicide )

full  name : brando  nicolas  estefano  esparza

nicknames : just  brando , if  he  really  fucks  with  you  you  can  get  away  with  teasingly  calling  him  brandy , but  not  even  lolol

gender : cismale

height :  6 ′ 2

age : 24

birthday : august  4 , 1996

zodiac : leo  ( aries  moon , capricorn  ascendant )

right  handed  or  left  handed : ambidextrous , but  basically  right  handed 

eye  color : light  brown

hair  color : dark  brown

piercings  &  tattoos : no  piercings , this  tattoo  of  venezuela  right  here , but  on  his  left  wrist 

languages  spoken : spanish ( native  tongue ) and  english

sexuality : pansexual / panromantic

place  of  birth : maracay , venezuela

last  3  songs  listened  to : llueve  sobre  la  ciudad  by  los  bunkers , yo  te  esperare  by  cali  y  el  dandee , soñe  ( unplugged )  by  zoé

so  brando  was  born  to  yessenia  olivares  and  bruno  esparza  in  maracay , venezuela . originally , he  wasn’t  supposed  to  be  named  brando . a  fun  fact  &  random  little  headcanon  is  that  his  mother  &  father  had  the  full  intention  of  naming  him  brandon , after  his  grandfather  ( or  father’s  father ) , who  passed  a  week  before  he  was  born . being  both  parents’  first  born , his  father  got  super  nervous  during  his  mother’s  labor  &  basically ? got  really  wasted  because  he  was  practically  crapping  his  pants  about  his  son  being  born . when  he  went  to  sign  his  birth  certificate , he  was  so  drunk , he  literally  forgot  to  write  the  ‘ n ’  in  brandon . once  they  realized  the  mistake  his  father  had  made , they  didn’t  want  to  go  through  the  annoyance  of  changing  his  name , so , they  went  with  brando , and  surprisingly ? it  really  stuck  &  everyone  loved  it  more  than  brandon  kdjvcndfkcmn

he  was  an  average  kid  tbh . his  family  was  middle  class  &  even  though  his  country  had  been  struggling  ( for  the  lack  of  a  better  word )  for  years  now , he  didn’t  fully  feel  the  economic  fall  at  first , of  course . now  fast  forward  a  few  years  &  shit  is  changing  right  before  his  eyes , and  he’s  really ? just  a  kid

pretty  much  communism  coming  to  it’s  finest  point  tbh . all  these  restaurants , stores , businesses , all  these  places  brando  used  to  go  to  when  he  was  younger ? done  with , or  just  government  owned  &  a  blink  away  from  breaking  completely . it’s  actually  really  sad  because  he’s  literally  watching  it  all  happen , watching  his  country  go  down  the  drain  &  there’s  really  nothing  he  can  do  to  stop  it

his  father  becomes  an  active  protester , along  with  many  other  angry  venezuelans , but  this  does  more  bad  than  good . eventually  his  father  gets  arrested  at  a  protest  when  brando  is  11  years  old . that  was  over  a  decade  ago  &  up  to  this  very  day , present  time , brando  has  no  idea  where  his  father  is , if  he’s  well , or  if  he’s  even  alive  tbh  ( talk  about  trauma ? ) . it’s  like  one  day  he’s  coming  home , giving  his  only  son  a  hug , &  the  next  day , he  completely  vanished  from  planet  earth , as  if  he’s  some  high  profile  serial  killer  when  really , he  was  just  protesting  the  shit  communist  government  they’re  living  in 

it’s  just  brando  &  his  mom  from  that  point  on . of  course , things  just  get  worse  with  time . i’m  not  gonna  get  into  details  but  basic  poverty  &  communism  tbh . they’re  hungry , they’re  broke , the  country  is  just  getting  worse  &  worse  with  each  passing  moment  ( hyper  inflation , food  scarcity , severe  corruption , government  abuse , do  i  even  need  to  go  on ? ) . all  these  things  anger  brando  to  no  extent  &  he  finds  himself  releasing  his  anger  with  his  fists . it’s  getting  into  random  fights  for  no  reason  &  screaming  at  anyone  who  even  looks  at  him  weirdly , pretty  much  becoming  an  angry  ass  kid 

TW : SUICIDE , READ  WITH  CAUTION !! things  are  bad  but  they  really  hit  rock  bottom  when  his  mother , surprisingly , commits  suicide . brando  finds  her  foaming  at  the  mouth , a  clear  overdose , but  by  the  time  they  make  it  to  the  hospital , she’s  pronounced  dead . literally  a  15  year  old  boy , alone , in  venezuela .... honestly  terrifying . brando  literally  doesn’t   know  where  to  go ? on  top  of  the  trauma  he’s  holding  he’s  worried  about  his  living  arrangements  as  well . luckily , a  friend  of  his  allows  him  to  stay  at  his  house  a  few  nights  but  this  is  just  temporary

he  just  really  wants  to  leave  his  country  but  he  feels  completely  stuck . he’s  depressed  &  angry  as  fuck  but  he’s  determined  to  get  out  somehow . brando  eventually  contacts  a  family  friend  on  facebook  ( aka  claudia’s  mom ? ) &  tells  them  his  situation . it  seems  to  touch  this  woman’s  heart  so  much , she , wait  for  it , brings  him  over  to  the  states . he  spends  his  16th  birthday  in  america , with  claudia  &  her  family . the  year  is  2012 

very  slowly , but  things  begin  getting  better  for  him . he’s  enrolled  into  school  &  pretty  much  gets  guided  through  everything  thanks  to  claudia . they  are  not  blood  related , but  their  families  were  so  close  at  one  point  that  they’re  pretty  much ? cousins  tbh ! literally  not  blood  related  but  still  family

with  his  dedication  &  ambition  he  pretty  much  catches  on  completely  in  less  than  3  years  ( learning  english  of  course ) , he  loses  his  accent  completely  after  4 . he  goes  through  a  whole  adoption  thing  with  claudia’s  family  until  he  thankfully  gains  american  residency  thanks  to  them , which  of  course , eventually  leads  him  to  citizenship . instead  of  picking  fights  with  people  for  no  reason , brando  takes  out  his  anger  with  physical  activity , becoming  very  much  involved  in  going  to  the  gym , or  even  just  exercising  by  himself . whether  it’s  leg  day , boxing , whatever  it  is , he  loves  any  type  of  physical  work , since  it  keeps  his  mind  distracted 

this  has  pretty  much  lead  him  to  have  quite  a  #body  tbh . like .... it’s  hella  obvious  he  works  out  kdndjndjvnfd

he  also  developed  a  hobby  for  piano , after  taking  piano  classes  in  high  school , beginning  of  freshman  year . he’s  been  playing  since  he  was  16 , eventually  buying  a  crap  keyboard  when  he  was  17 . he  does  piano  covers  on  youtube , but  again , this  is  really  just  a  hobby  of  his 

DEATH  TW !! after  the  passing  of  claudia’s  parents , her  &  brando  move  to  kingsboro  when  they’re  both  19 ! they  share  an  apartment  with  lemon

on  top  of  that , he’s  a  bartender  @  blue ! he’s  also  a  personal  trainer . literally  lifting  24/7  for  him .... bless

he  enjoys  drinking  on  weekends  &  letting  loose  every  once  in  a  while  but  i  don’t  think  he’s  crazy  about  weed  tbh . he  thinks  the  feeling  is  nice , but  he  hates  how  it  makes  you  hungry . would  never  go  out  of  his  way  to  buy  weed  &  basically  only  smokes  it  if  he’s  offered , preferring  alcohol , but  again , he  mostly  just  exercises  &  eats  right , not  really  having  any  addictions  of  any  kind , just  little  hobbies  every  one  in  a  while

brando  honestly ? considers  himself  lucky , despite  all  the  terrible  things  he’s  been  through . he  feels  lucky  that  he  left  before  things  got  really , really bad , even  though  they  were  already  pretty  awful  tbh . anyone  who  hears  his  story  would  think  he’s  anything  but  fortunate  but  the  truth  of  the  matter  is  that  he’s  one  of  the  lucky  ones . not  every  venezuelan  has  had  the  opportunity  to  leave  &  he  just  feels  very  fortunate  that  he  was  one  of  the  few  that  did 

he’s  not  the  type  to  take  anything  for  granted  tbh , very  much  the  type  of  person  who  appreciates  everything  he  has , no  matter  how  small . you  could  literally  get  him  a  present  from  the  dollar  store  for  christmas  &  he  would  still  be  super  happy  about  it . for  him , it’s  the  thought  &  time  put  into  something  that  counts , not  the  price , or  the  brand 

he  very  much  struggled  with  his  sexuality  for  years . not  because  he  was  in  denial  or  ashamed  or  anything , but  for  the  longest  time , he  kind  of  just  didn’t  know  what  he  was ? sometimes  he  thought  he  was  straight  but  undergoing  a  phase , other  times  he  wondered  if  he  was  gay , then  he  considered  himself  bi  for  a  really  long  time . the  truth  is  that  he  didn’t  fully  understand  his  sexuality  up  until  not  too  long  ago , when  he  began  hanging  with  an  lgbtq+  crowd . eventually , he  realizes  society  basically  labels  him  as  ‘ pansexual ’ , but  he  doesn’t  even  really  like  to  label  himself ? brando  just  falls  in  love  with  the  person , with  their  soul , &  he  doesn’t  care  what  they  have  underneath  tbh 

i  haven’t  fully  figured  him  out  yet  because  he’s  a  new  character  but  i  picture  he  can  be  such  a  stereotypical  leo  sometimes , but , his  whole  #capricorn  ascendant  really  does  take  place  for  him , in  the  sense  that  he  can  be  a  very  difficult  person  to  read  sometimes . like  is  he  happy ? is  he  upset ? is  that  just  his  face ? is  he  planning  something ? you  will  rarely  ever  know  tbh 

he’s  a  very  humble  person , probably  because  of  his  childhood . he  hates  show  offs  tbh , or  very  rich  people  with  no  consideration  for  anyone . literally .... miss  him  with  that  bullshit  lmfao . he  finds  the  entire  snobby  or  ‘ i’m  better  than  you ’ attitudes  to  be  so  unattractive  tbh ? you  could  be  the  hottest  person  on  the  planet  but  if  he  hates  your  attitude  you  really  just  don’t  matter  to  him  lolol

over  all  he’s  a  lot  calmer  than  he  was  before  tbh . he  still  has  his  moments  but  he’s  a  pretty  stable  guy  in  the  sense  that  he  no  longer  wants  to  beat  up  everything  or  anyone  he  see’s . he  still  has  a  ton  of  issues  to  work  on  but  basically  just  doesn’t  wanna  go  to  therapy  &  doesn’t  really  talk  about  his  past  at  all , preferring  to  ‘ live  in  the  present ’  even  though  talking  about  his  issues  &  sharing  his  pretty  shitty  story  would  definitely  help  him  clear  out  his  head  but  🥴 it  honestly  probably  won’t  happen  &  he’ll  probs  just  keep  burying  shit  LMFAOOOO

very  very  hard  working  guy , ambition  like  crazy , always  gives  his  all  in  anything  he  feels  strongly  about , he’s  very  good  at  persuading  people  tbh , usually  gets  told  he’d  make  a  ‘ great  lawyer ’  because  he  just  has  this  way  of  convincing  you  like ? he  would  never  become  a  lawyer  but  the  truth  is  that  he  would  make  a  great  one , persuasion  skills  like  a  MF 

this  is  all  i  can  think  of  now  but  i  did  his  birth  chart  ting  🖤