#why the hell do you expect them to base their career decision on what would make taylor happy?

[lover-of-mine]

People need to grow up. To pass on the chance to play on a tour with John Mayer it's stupid from a business standpoint. The man is stablished in the industry for a long ass time and these are artists that are still trying to get their footing in there. The fact that people bullied Lizzy into dropping the tour and are now bullying Alec it's just DUMB.

[astrologanize]

2021 for the ascendants 

aries ascendant: man, it’s like you’ve forgotten what you want for the past few years but you’ve been trying with all your might to run through a list of desires with the hope that eventually something will provide you with contentment. worry not, you will be met with situations that highlight your principles so that you are able to decipher what it is that brings you oneness. ask yourself if��the company you keep is meeting expectations and if there are behaviors you’ve been allowing, but more importantly, ask yourself if you are leading by example and what you are leading with. this is a time for you to make sure that you are taking the proper initiative towards your own fulfillment, if you’re feeling a disconnect then maybe you should seek for an understanding of the objective; how can you expect others to meet expectations if you aren’t doing the same for yourself? why are you tolerating what you shouldn’t have to? it’s time to up your ambition and strive for resolution by making sure that you are setting yourself up for greatness. “if you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything” 

taurus ascendant: life has been a slippery slope for the past couple of years, the way life can change in the blink of an eye and the way we can get carried away without intending to is something you’re awfully familiar with by now. you’ll feel like you’re getting somewhere, you figure things are on the up ya know, and then of course something totally stops you in your tracks and it makes you question yourself - which has only made your taurus ascendant self clam up harder buuuut you’ve been trying to process it. you will be met with situations that allow you to reap the benefit of your efforts. it is time for you to go after what you want, this is prime manifestation time so if you are desiring change to circumstances make sure you are working towards it and utilizing the power of affirmation. if you don’t have a job then i would strongly advise this as a time to obtain one or attempt to obtain one; if you do have a job/are in a career then expect there to be change that is ultimately positive for you even if it may not seem like it at the time. 

gemini ascendant: you guys have been on a mission of self-discovery through the numerous voids we utilize to dissolving other parts of ourselves, i’m getting very “cranes in the sky” by solange - “i tried to drink it away, i tried to put one in the air, i tried to dance it away, i tried to change it with my hair” (etc. read the rest of the lyrics if you’d like!) sometimes in us getting caught up in excessive behavior we’re able to understand that there’s a bigger issue at play and we’re acting from a place that is without authenticity. you will be met with situations that reveal the answers that you’ve been searching for and your perspective will begin to breakdown and reform. this year you should try to think before you speak, in fact, let your actions speak for themselves so that you don’t have to start running off at the mouth. absorb and filter through the information that you have so that you are leading with the facts; no more following unreliable curiosities, bouncing back & forth, and wallowing in careless behavior. 

cancer ascendant: for a while you’ve had to take a hard look at family, support systems, what you bring the to the table, and how you can find liberation for yourself in relation to these things. it’s been easier for you to fall into a pity party because you’ve had to deal with and be met with responsibility in a new way, a way that has showed you where you’re needing to grow up, and this can make you want to sink further into your shell with all your vices of comfort (those ‘security blankets’ can be so pesky). you will be met with situations that can soften out your old ways and in doing so provide you with a chance to have a legitimate regeneration. finding acceptance and embracing vulnerability at it’s most candid is how you will find your footing. this is a time to try to re-evaluate your patterns of behavior so that you can work on creating new, healthier habits for yourself so that you are able to lay down those roots of security that you long for. you have been receiving the tools you need and all you have to do is utilize them instead of trying to shield up and be overly defensive. 

leo ascendant: i feel like life for you has kind of felt like someone took you out of your home, drove you to a forest in the middle of nowhere and dropped you off with the bare necessities and said, “okay, now figure out your way back.” thankfully you are getting a groove back for yourself and taking on a new outlook of the hindrances in your life. you will be met with situations that make you reconsider the way you’ve been carrying yourself, what you’ve been allowing, and the situations that you have been placing yourself in. it’s time for you to be more selective and imagine what you want for your life, what is your ‘dream life’? - answer this question and start taking the steps to getting there, decide what isn’t aligning with this dream, what you need to pull back from, and what is worth the effort. if you have family or a support system then examine your relationship with them - are they holding you back or are they willing to work on things with you and vice versa because it could be you who is needing to be more deliberate with people. if your home (life) isn’t ideal then find a way of to move elsewhere or renovate your space by getting rid of what has no use in your life so that you can add or rearrange accordingly. 

virgo ascendant: ah, attachments and feeling withdrawn, dissatisfied, ineffective are issues that you have been dealing with but this year you will be tending to the source of this by learning how to keep momentum. though you have been putting in effort, it’s you working harder and not smarter because you’re working from a place of inadequacy instead of working from a place of ingenuity. along with working harder and putting in unnecessary effort is you nitpicking to the very last crumb when really this is you just, again, being dissatisfied with where you are in life. you will be met with situations that force you back down to earth and emphasize what it is that you have been evading or how you’ve been evading. this is a time to make the transitions that you’ve been yearning for, this is not a time for waiting things out, if you want something then you need to act on it. you’ve been in your head in a very unhelpful way, you’re like “nope, this won’t work for me because xyz, i can’t do that because of abc, this is too wrong, this isn’t lmnop enough, blah blah blah” and it’s been excuse after excuse. get out of your own way and revise!!! make the best with what you have!!!

libra ascendant: gosh, why has everything felt like it’s been crumbling away? things are supposed to come together, not fall apart, right? as of late your efforts have felt as though they’ve been in vain - other people aren’t taking to you, you’re not attracting what you want, and everything has felt unfair. this balance beam has been feeling anything but balanced! you will be met with situations that bring you back to the notion that what we attract is based around what we’re putting forth. have you ever pointed the finger at yourself? are there any issues that could be stemming for you? maybe it’s you who is needing to learn how to keep yourself in check. after all this crumbling away you should be able to start piecing together the leftover fragments to gather an understanding of what life has come to be. omg i just envisioned the mulan scene: “when will my reflection show who i am inside” - this is your mulan moment!!! negativity has clung and been projected from you in recent years and it’s on you to mend those behaviors and in doing so your paths will narrow down, the indecision will cease, and you’ll see where you can go, where you’d want to go.  

scorpio ascendant: feeling as though you’ve missed something is not something you’re that familiar with because you like to think you have awareness but unfortunately recognition has not been your strong suit as of late. you’ve reached that “who am i?” stage of rock-bottom and the “what in the hell am i even doing?” but what a year 2021 will be for you in terms of being able to end certain cycles, which is a pretty major thing for your ascendant. you will be met with situations that force you to gather your bearings and revise your demeanor, which can be a nerve-wracking thing for someone who doesn’t like to adhere to what they would consider the follies of others. it’s a time for openness so lessen your grip and consider the possibilities rather than feeding into your sensitivities and fixations. how can you transform if you’re too busy digging yourself in deeper? the way scorpio is able to bring together both boldness and vulnerability is what you should be striving for, the self-sabotaging is for the other birds - you’re a Phoenix! 

sagittarius ascendant: i extend my deepest condolences for the past couple of years but you’re starting to get a better idea about the part that you play in matters and what you’re needing to improve upon so that you can find a direction, or better direction, in your life. hopefully you have been paying heed to the areas in your life that have accumulated to the point of no return and are planning a big ol’ yard sale because it is time to bring back some decency. you will be met with situations that test your ability to make the right choices/decisions by infringing upon your lifestyle. this is a time to explore inwardly and address the emotions that you’ve kept tucked away, seeing as your decisions are too often dictated by these unturned emotions. you’ve done enough wandering by now, these upcoming days should be about you tying up loose ends and bettering the circumstances you currently have so that you don’t feel the need to flee. don’t let things go unexpressed this year because this baggage is what is hindering you and freeing yourself of this as much you possibly can would be in your best interest. 

capricorn ascendant: ah, those dark feelings of being misunderstood and having a chip on your shoulder because let’s be honest, you’ve been having an identity crisis and haven’t been the most reassuring person to have around. all i’m hearing is “it’s my life!” and envisioning a person who is refusing to be told what to do, we get it - you think you’re above cooperation. you will be met with situations that challenge the security within yourself and in your life through having to face your own inability to properly articulate yourself to others. it’s time for you to take on the mindset of a novice. everything you’ve established or think that you’ve established? yeah, leave it at the door. try your best to pretend that you know nothing and that the world is brand new because it’s your own preconceived notions that are clamming you up. other people won’t be receptive to you if you’re not being receptive to them. not everything is about standing on the mountain or being ready to die on a hill, you should be enjoying the process and experimenting and considering alternatives because that’s how you find what works. 

aquarius ascendant: so you guys have totally recoiled into yourselves to the point of being lost within, huh? i just know y’all have been going full weirdo and doing shit that probably even you can’t grasp because it’s been coming from such a subconscious place. once you’ve hit a low point it’s easy to become a bitter betty and partake in not the greatest of coping mechanisms because you’re feeling alienated from yourself. there is a reason for this though - you have unacknowledged feelings! have you had any regrets or lingering emotion towards people or towards situations? perhaps these are stifling your ability to feel present. you will be met with situations that turn you inside out by taking away the option of preparing yourself so that there’s no time to go robotic about it. this is a time for you to revel in activity, get out of your ~woe is me, nobody wants what i have to offer~ and start showcasing your abundance! give for the sake of giving, have fun with your generosity, try to tap into that aquarius energy of playful but well-intentioned nonchalance. 

pisces ascendant: well, you have been trying to work on your celestial flow and have dove deeper into your visions and idealisms for life but your moods have never been more easily swayed. these have not been the sort of tides that you have cared to ride because they don’t lead anywhere! they crash and dissolve, crash and dissolve, crash and dissolve - when will they carry you somewhere you’d like to go? your escapisms and illusions have been getting the better of you and floating is a pretty accurate way to describe where you’re at. you will be met with situations that question/alter your reality and reveal to you what you’ve been overlooking. i imagine it as your *record scratch* *freeze frame* “yup. that's me. so you're probably wondering how I got myself into this situation.” moment. it’s time for you to gently pull back and take note of what you’re investing your energy into and what this has been producing in return. your energy is best left being funneled into yourself this year so that you can thoroughly examine where you’ve been pigeonholing yourself; in you examining such you will be able to tap into your intuition in a way that you have not been able to before, it’ll be like unlocking a new level of your own consciousness. 

[jade-parcels]

👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕

The bunnies’ other jobs!

From my bunny cafe au

((I am so peeved :((( I had this all written out!! And I deleted it by accident!! Darnnnnn!!!))

Anon asked “You mentioned that some of the bunnies have day jobs so do they all have jobs outside the cafe or just a few?” (Something along these lines…again…I deleted it by accident 😔)

👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕

Diluc/‘Angel’

After his father got bored with the wine industry, he passed the whole company off to Diluc on his 18th birthday in order to shift his focus to mining. Diluc found himself swamped with all kinds of business decisions while just barely being an adult. He expanded the company and hired some very trustworthy people to handle things for him so he could finish college

When the business was given to him, Diluc and Kaeya had an explosive fight over it. Kaeya felt like he deserved to have some say in what happens to the business, he’s still a part of the family! But Diluc refused to let him in on any decisions so Kaeya packed his bags and left (not before cussing him out in front of their father, staff and business partners). He was just in a silly, goofy mood. They’re fine now, not on the best terms but they do chat and meet up for lunch on occasion.

He is filthy rich, he couldn’t spend all of his all of his money if he tried, so he doesn’t really need the job at the cafe! Kaeya got him the job because he knew his brother was stuck in a weird, antisocial funk and needed some fun in his life

Diluc loves this job, he has a great time, but it isn’t his main job. His priority will always be the family business!! If he has to quit his job at the cafe, he would in a heartbeat

👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕👯‍♂️💕

Kaeya

Kaeya was going to go into the police academy but was scouted out by a modeling agency. They had seen him at Ragnvindr company events and thought ‘well damn’ so they gave him a pretty generous deal

Kaeya makes a good living off of modeling, the tips and paycheck from the cafe. He rakes in cash pretty quickly just cause he knows how to get it. That, and his dad sends him checks every other month as well. Kaeya thinks of it as ‘I’m sorry’ money. He isn’t wrong

He doesn’t travel much for modeling, which he doesn’t mind, so he kinda just hangs around the city with a lot of free time on his hands between photo shoots. That’s why he got this job at the cafe! It gives him something to do and it’s fun as hell ;)

Albedo

Bedo is one busy bunny. He finished college early and is getting his masters degree online. He works most days at the cafe and on the weekends, he tutors other college students in bio/chem/science related subjects

(He was actually Xiao’s tutor back when he was failing chemistry!! Xiao is very thankful for Albedo’s help!!)

His dream is to become a biochemist, he’s always been interested in cells and what makes up living beings. So having a career in that field would make him the happiest man alive

His mother and sister live outside the city in a more rural area so he spends a lot of time FaceTiming the two of them! Klee is always so excited to hear about Albedo’s experiments or the people he’s met while working in such a bustling, fun city :)

Zhongli

Zhongli is a simple man! He’s a bunny waiter and an artist

He creates intricate pieces based on folklore from different cultures, focusing mostly on dragons. His favorite medium is paint, he loves painting on glass and layering the panes in order to create a 3D piece

He sells his works to galleries, shops and anyone who wants them! As long as they appreciate the story behind the artwork. Sadly…He undersells his work. He could def be making more money but he just does not desire money or material goods the way others may

So he got his job at the cafe in order to help out his dear friend Ningguang, not for money, he only planned on working there for a month or two until she got more bunnies but…he ended up really loving the people he works with :’) he looks forward to working with them now and texts/calls them outside of work to meet up for lunch or bowling (such an old man thing to do omfg)

Dainsleif/‘Sweetie’

Dain was a bouncer at another bar before leaving to come to Celestia’s! He’s good friends with Beidou, they belong to the same motorcycle club so when she was talking to him about the lack of security at the cafe/bar, he stepped in to help out

Little did he know…he’d actually become a bunny…And like it

This is his full time job now, he doesn’t have another for the time being. While he is a bunny at the cafe, he still keeps an eye out for any threats to his coworkers and has access to the offices upstairs (Ningguang’s office and the security office)

When he isn’t waiting tables, he’s upstairs in a tank top and sweatpants keeping an eye on the security cameras and talking to the other security guards through their ear pieces

Ajax

Ajax is a student who doesn’t really have much time on his hands

He mows lawns in the summer and he’s quit his job as a cashier to come work at the cafe! He mostly works night shifts his cause he’s still going to school aaaaaand he’s on his college’s swim team! He’s about to graduate so he works close with his coach to help train the others on the team

He doesn’t really want his family knowing that he skips around in a skimpy bunny outfit and fucking customers most nights but I mean…They’re bound to find out if they see him in pictures people post

Xiao/‘Tofu’

Xiao is an art student!! He wants to be a tattoo artist :)

He’s already got one sleeve of tattoos, it’s unfinished but you can’t really tell just by looking. When he isn’t at the cafe, he’s either in class or shadowing Ganyu, his best friend and tattoo artist. Their art styles greatly differ, she focuses her craft on cutesy, colored tattoos, but she is skilled. And Xiao looks up to her

Xiao admires Zhongli too, they met at the cafe and when Zhongli found out Xiao wants to be a tattoo artist he told him that once he’s licensed, he wants to get a tattoo from him :’)

Baizhu/‘Honey’

Baizhu is a (mostly) full time pharmacist, hence why he isn’t usually at the cafe

He also has a niece, Qiqi, who he babysits often. He loves her very much so he has no problem watching her! Baizhu will even bring her to the pharmacy with him when he’s swamped with work. In the break room, he has a play kitchen, coloring books and a bunch of puzzles to keep Qiqi occupied while he works :)

When he’s not at work, he’s at home resting. He has chronic pain flare ups in his back and shoulders that can make life miserable :( he has plenty of good days that outweigh the bad! And as a pharmacist, he has access to any medicine he needs to make his life easier!

Dottore(Alain)/‘Doc’

Alain’s an oral surgeon who’s a little bit….too into his job

He isn’t phased by blood or gore so he’s easily able to conduct procedures that would make other squeamish. He’ll pull teeth, put in dental implants, remove rotten tissue, any of that without even flinching

Outside of that, he works at the cafe. He wears a mask in order to avoid being recognized even though at his job as a surgeon, he’s usually wearing a medical mask anyways. It’s just a precaution

This has nothing to do with his career but he used to be a tap dancer and actor so he’d join in on local theatre shows! He helped build sets when he wasn’t rehearsing. He doesn’t have time for that anymore (which kinda makes him sadddd) but he has all kinds of theatre playlists on his phone and in his car that he’ll sing along to

Scaramouche/‘Boss’

Scara’s job at the cafe is his main job! His side job is something you may not expect from such a grump

He works at an animal shelter! In fact, he brings cats home to train so they have an increased chance of being adopted. Someone is more likely to adopt a potty trained, socialized cat than a feral cat who doesn’t know what a litter box is. So Scara brings them to his apartment for some one-on-one socializing, training and cuddling

One time he offhandedly mentioned working at an animal shelter while he was working at the cafe and sure enough, three separate customers from the cafe came by to adopt!!! Only one actually took an animal home but he was still surprised that those people had listened to him and cared enough to come by

Scara is a jerk most of the time but when he’s at home…by himself…With a lil kitten sleeping in his lap while he plays games on his PC…Yeah, he softens up a bit

So as you can see, we have a very diverse group working at the cafe! They’ve all learned a lot from each other, come to appreciate each other’s friendship and come to help each other out when one of their coworkers is in need or upset.

[stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland]

I’m here since May 2019 and I’d like to brainstorm with you about the Big Proof of Love post if that’s alright, Stuck.

I remember that ask too, but I never believed and I’ll tell you why. Not only L warned us about the circus: she also was on board with them. The NY Pride 2019 picture from a CS account was a huge tip that things were fine between the girls even with the PR in it’s beginning stage. We also had several other hints like it while L kept interacting with the Diva. For me this 2019 fight didn’t happen, because they were simply sticking to their own plans.

I was a huge enthusiast of your MOM theory, but now that the PR is over maybe we should take another look at it. I don’t think anymore that her plans were to leave Epic to be independent. The Diva was never the savior like DaBaby plays in the mv and Camila’s image may have been stained a lot the last couple years, but not to a point of making her less profitable. At least until 2025, that’s when I think her contract with her management ends, I don’t see her going independent. I remember lots of asks about how damaged her image was and how her fans were leaving, but they started to repair that image and the fans came back even before the PR breakup.

In my opinion, her plan could be to leave Epic for another label negotiating a better contract that gives her a little more control than she has now. For me C&L parted ways with the Diva and his team just before or right after the pandemic started. I remember L’s first attunement live when she said no one needs to be seen right now, just after the first yawnmila stunts. Since then she’s being hell of shady and always pointing betrayals and fake friendships.

About L leaving Columbia, I think C could’ve helped, but not the same way you think. When Prelude was out she was emphatic that going independent and owning her masters at such young age wasn’t something she was expecting and that many artists dream about it, but can’t at the beginning of their careers and how she was lucky to be able to do it. So it wasn’t something they planned, it was probably a opportunity that came along and they took it.

You see, usually a label pays in advance from six to seven figures when they sign an artist. It’s not a lot of money for them to pay back considering the money they make with sponsorships and other incomes, but take look at Prince’s saga with Warner. Despite having millions of dollars, the best lawyers that money could buy and a huge fan base even he couldn’t get out of his contract. He did get away with certain loopholes, though.

And that’s what I think happened with L, she found a loophole. As much money as the PR could have brought C, still would be really difficult for her to leave Epic, and here I think her management plays a decisive role against it, because sometimes it’s not only about money. Camila signed her solo deal with them late 2016/early 2017, but for how long or how many albums? With what specifications? It’s yet to be discovered. I have a feeling the her deal with them ends before the one her managers. Hopefully 2022.

Lauren on the other hand, signed with Columbia in 2018 and with RECORDS CO in 2019. Maverick in fact played a huge role in her signing with them and you can see it in that picture from when they signed the deal: we have Tara, Larry Rudolph, Lauren, Barry Weiss and others. So they were not fighting over her, they actually got her. And even signed to both labels somehow she managed to change her management from Maverick to Brenda and later to Elena and now to Chantal. Which tells me she learned not to sign long terms contracts with any management.

With all of this info I believe two things could’ve happened: she found a loophole/breaches in the contract or she managed to get really important information from the big sharks. In both cases she could’ve had enough cards to negotiate with them to go independent, own her masters, but still with the condition to have Sony as her distributor, something she would need as an independent artist. She could have chosen a distributor outside Sony, so I don’t know if this was something she wanted or agreed to.

Also, in my opinion all 5 girls image contracts with Xfactor are still active somehow, because the others keep postponing their debuts. If it was just a matter of money why wouldn’t Beyoncé or Rihanna, huge N supporters (or anyone else with money really), help to buy her out from RCA or whatever label she’s signed to? You see? Remember the rumor that A’s label dropped her due to 5H contracts interference? I do and I think it’s pretty plausible. So clearly it’s not just about money.

For me Milamoon deactivated is more related to her management than with her plans to go independent. I really don’t think she can take this route for now. Do you know that the bald man is the lead investor in Olipop, right? Not another investor: the lead one. So it all comes down to her being tied to the deals he pushes. Regarding the big proof of love, as much romantic as it is the idea of ​​C paying the labels for L to be free is not realistic, in my opinion. But she definitely could have helped L to find those loopholes in the contract and with the negotiations that ended up freeing her boo.

And without a doubt no matter how hard C situation may be right now, she has L looking for and trying to come up with something to help her too. Otherwise we wouldn’t have so many things happening that doesn’t fit the narratives they’re supposed to sell.

Link: https://thatgrapejuice.net/2019/04/lauren-jauregui-signs-new-expanded-record-deal-with-industry-heavyweight/?amp

Wow... the long ass ask...

Thank you so much for your thoughts my friend. You not only made me remember a lot of things that I forgot about what happened with the girls but you helped me to think about this twice and I really loved it despite that you didn't believe in my theory.

It's absolutely fine. It was my idealistic heart talking there, not my realistic brain and I needed that. A hit of reality.

I need to read all of this again in Spanish but thank you. This helps me to understand everything better 😊👍🏽

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi Goldy, JK was bold in the past, around 2017-2019 (to me, gcf & rosebowl can be considered as ‘coming out’). But it seems he now prefers to stay closeted? E.g. he snatched JM’s hand in the Xylitol x BTS shoot, then looked at the camera. Holding hands is normal among members… a lot of his interactions with Jin, V and other members are more intimate than holding hands… his reaction makes me feel like he wants me to pretend I didn’t know…?

Sorry I've been a bit AWOL lately...

I'm busy being the man of my woman's dreams in a cis het anti black capitalist world

Fun times.

I saw that bit, uWu-ed and kept it pushing.

It's nothing new really. I think a few months back when I was out here screaming Jikook are toning down, acting super professional around the cameras yadda yadda people out here were looking at me like I'd lost my two delulu heads- but this segues into that theme for me and since I've exhausted the topic I don't know what else to add.

I've said before they've both been very conscious of the cameras within certain periods post October- again nothing new, they be like that every now and then every season every phase and the whys will always be up for debate in these ship streets- on that subject, I've read a lot of opinions yet I think like mine better and will stick to it. Thanks Kimberly of Delulu precinct. Walk along now. Lol.

Jimin was like that during the Coway behind the scene shoot too when he noticed the cameras and quickly elbowed Jk to draw him away from the gaze of the cameras.

I don't think it's because they stopped being 'bold' or want to pretend. It takes a lot of courage to even pretend or even perform the gay in front of the world and your peers. I think they are just awfully aware and conscious of the people they work with as well as corporation's growing awareness, intentions and interests in them. You just never know which saessang is moonlighting as a brand PA or marketing director for a company they are working with. You just never know who is watching especially whenever they have to work with these 'outsiders.'

Think of Dispatch. Were they not allies or business partners, they'd be careful around them too if they worked with them. Know what I mean?

Toning down and exercising caution is necessary sometimes. I don't know why some people think that's absurd or Tuktukkerish when I say stuff like that. Especially with the kind of reputation they have as a ship and just how commercially attractive that image is. It's common sense at this point if you ask me.

Jikook sells. Argue with the analytics. I don't know who thinks they don't. Must be the clowns and penguins. They sell period. BigHit knows this, BTS knows this, companies know this. We don't scream Jikook is a brand within a brand for no reason.

And a lot of the toning down in recent times has perhaps inadvertently mitigated that growing power and demand of them as a marketing resource- who knows, that could have as well been by design, intentionally instigated for obvious reasons which I argue is the case but don't mind me. I'm delusional, gay and apparently the man of my woman's dreams uWu. Gotta wear that pants in my relationship. Ayaya Hwaiting.

When you say he prefers to stay closested- I thought they are both closested already?? They both have never been fully out in our opinion. Yes our opinion because I feel we are like minded. Let's be delulu mates.

On the topic of closets, I want to save that for a separate post. What I can say though is they are both growing and maturing and learning and unlearning. Jungkook's desire to 'come out' or act reckless with his glass closet in my opinion stemmed from him placing more value on his personal happiness over other values perhaps because he was young and hadn't fully grasped the full and complex nature of happiness or understand the privilege he has as part of BTS.

We make decisions based on our values most times. It's how I make sense of their actions really. I'm more likely to assume things that are consistent with the values they each have expressed openly and tend to reject any theory that contradicts or is inconsistent with those values. A guy who values his career is less likely to act in a way that puts that career at risk. And I'm well aware their values evolve over time.

These days he has never quit as one of his mottos next to rather dead than cool- do you see the contradictions in those values? Rather dead means quitting life. Yet now he says never quit. Don't mind me. I'm in a grumpy mood.

But what I'm saying is, the desire to want to show the world who this person means to him is not fixed or a priority all the time. Now i think he values his career a lot more than before which means he is more likely to compromise and less likely to do things that may put that career in jeopardy.

Transferring that to his relationship, I don't expect him to be breaching the glass closet anytime soon. And if he do, it might be incidental and may carry with it consequences which I believe he is well aware and concious of now. Will that change? You bet. Again it depends a lot on what his values in a given moment are and which ones he prioritizes.

It's their relationship. They chose which aspects of it they want to share with the cameras. Some of it get written off as fanservice. Fair enough. But the nonfanservice passing moments has always been questionable- although I must say, I find all Jikook moments and interactions questionable lol.

It's just skinship. Holding hands I mean. Why would he be conscious of that right? II'vetalked about consequences and repercussions of their actions. Sometimes I think it's the off screen scolding that gets to him. The ones silently whispered at his back. I mean we saw his reaction when Jimin was getting scolded by the hyungs for sleeping late. He's talked about skipping sleep too if I recall correctly. Jimin is hyung and I know the hyungs expect him to know better and do better. I'd Imagine Jimin would equally scold JK if his actions reflected poorly on him too.

So why the hell would he not say anything to Jungkook for posting on his birthday when he hadn't posted at all for any hyung's??? Sigh.

It's sad his guards are back up- but it's for good reason I believe given the context of the situation.

I don't think dramatizing his dynamic with Jimin makes him bold. Nor does Jimin's propensity to over express himself with Jungkook mean he loves Jungkook more than. Both are extreme takes for me.

Nevertheless, I contrast that moment with a Tae Kook moment which is one of my favorite tuktukk moments. In this moment, JK is staring at Jimin, his whole body turned towards him. Tae notices the cameras and draws JK's attention to it. I think there are two such moments like that from the recent contents? I don't know I have to cross check.

Tae in that moment reminded me a lot of Jimin. Jimin does this too- play out their relationship infront of the cameras to the point one might say he likes to show off their bond- which is such a BTS thing to do too so no big deal. I mean they like to show off their bond and chemistry as Tae said a while back.

It's one thing for JK to hesitate to act with a member because of the cameras, it's another for him to act self conscious only after the fact.

And JK has always been him like this with Jimin as Jimin used to say- JK acts different with me off cameras than he is on camera. He had a history of suppressing himself around Jimin owing in part to his personality

He's talked about putting on a mask around people and in a recent interview Jimin have talked about pretending and acting one way when he's not- I mean I've ever talked about the boy being in love with the Maknae being a facade- one of many.

They have public personas which, from what BTS themselves say, looks slightly different or similar to what we see on screens- or that they've grown to be more like what we see on screens.

I guess what I'm getting at is that 'pretending' isn't exactly a new thing or out of the ordinary. Personally I'd say he's being conscious of his surroundings like Jimin was and not that he is 'pretending.' If you know what I mean.

If he's pretending he has good reason to I believe and we can only speculate on that- we can't know for sure why.

If Jikook is fanservice then there's no need for either of them to worry about the cameras picking up on their interactions or who's watching them.

What goes on in Tae's head? I wanna know.

I don't know where to direct this post because you didn't really ask a question.

I'm fine thanks for asking. I'm really fine. I'm thinking of joining Jimin in the gym at 3am to bench press and build some biceps to match my role in my relationship😒

And no I don't need any advice. Keep it.

This is going to be my attitude until we switch back😐

I'm gonna be a boyfriend from hell and a blogger from satan's ass.

Also I think I overshare💀

GOLDY

[softomi]

Playing pretend isn’t just for kids

Oikawa Tooru

He had asked you days earlier, perhaps the most last minute thing he could ever do; you still disagreed to it the day before. He had flown back to Japan just a week ago for what you had told him was the stupidest decision of his life. He was attending a reunion, not just any reunion, it was his high school reunion where you knew he would fall into the worst trap of his life. Her, long hair, beautiful body, behind the innocent face she gave every boy in her direction, she was a witch who practically put a spell on any guy; even the Oikawa Tooru.

Last chance, if you pretend to be my girlfriend, she’ll totally get jealous and want me back.

It was the worst plan he’s ever told you, worse than the time he thought pranking Iwaizumi would be fun. You locked your phone upon entering the restaurant, the only guys who looked your way was the volleyball team members; the rest let their eyes remain fixated on the witch.

“Where’s Oikawa? I thought you guys were coming together?”

You laughed, “Seriously? Did you guys really think I would agree to his stupid plan.”

“You’ve agreed to much worse.” Hanamaki turns his head when the door rings, nearly spitting out his drink upon seeing Oikawa dressed overly fashionable; he can only imagine Oikawa hiring a stylist just for this moment.

“We’re about to be blessed with peak comedy right now.” Matsukawa along with everyone at the table turns in their seats.

You rolled your eyes, downing the alcoholic drink in front of you, “You guys are terrible.” But what you were going to do was worse. Perhaps you were being selfish, seeing him again after all the years; maybe this would be the only chance to see if those high school feelings were actually real. But if anything, you realized the moment he stepped through the doors, you weren’t going to let him fall down the rabbit hole of her again.

As soon as you saw her get up, you stood to your feet, moving quicker to him. Oikawa’s eyes were locked onto hers, she was smiling invitingly to him. You did the worst possible thing, your footsteps quicken to reach him mere seconds before she could; his eyes questioningly on you as you pull him down from his tie, pressing your lips against him.

“Hey. I missed you, what took you so long?” Your eyes darted to her direction, “Sorry, haven’t seen my boyfriend in so long, almost forgot what he tasted like.”

You don’t miss the way the former members of the volleyball club are hollering but you miss the way a hard blush is plastered across Oikawa’s face.

Akaashi Keiji.

He wasn’t always so invested in relationships, heck, even when you dated him; he wasn’t as whipped as you saw him now. She basically had him on a tight leash, the tie she was pulling on his neck made the sight just perfect for that description. You could barely hear it, but he was apologizing, she was continuously spouting nonsense, and he was merely a puppy following orders. It truly put a distaste in your mouth. In the last two hours since you’ve reunited with him and everyone else, he seemed on edge, even tense in her presence.

“Hey.” You stop him just as he’s exiting the bathroom, “Everything good Keiji?”

Akaashi’s eyes are fixated on the buttons of his dress shirt, “Yeah, just freshening up.” He talks in a hurry, attempting to leave but you pull him by the wrist.

Your eyes are laced with concern, “If you need anything, you know you can talk to me right?”

“Keiji!” You let go of his wrist, watching the woman storm over, “Sorry, but he’s taken.”

You scoff, “Excuse me?”

Her lips lined with disgust, “You can’t just waltz back in his life expecting to win him back.”

“Honey.” Akaashi tries to stop his lover, “There’s nothing going on.”

“No.” You cross your arms, your hand pushes Akaashi to the side; you face the woman up front, “Actually there is something going on, actually.” Your voice draws out the last word, a finger tapping the bottom of your lip, “I just gave him the best head of his life in the bathroom. Actually.” You’re stepping forward, making her take one back, “He’s still hopelessly in love with me, maybe that’s why you feel the need to wrap a tight collar around his neck.”

Her hand slaps across your face. Akaashi puts himself as a barrier between you and the girl.

“Don’t hit her.” Akaashi’s voice is shaking, “I don’t love you.” The words he’s been dying to say to his girlfriend for months finally leave his mouth, “I love y/n.” Akaashi, too, received a slap across the face before she storms off claiming to be embarrassed in front of everyone.

You laugh freely, “Gosh, when did you start dating such a witch.” His back still faces you, suddenly you’re feeling bad, “Keiji, I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t take things too far there.”

“No.” He turns to you, staring down at the red mark on your cheek, “Are you alright?” His hand brushes against your cheek.

You grin, “I’m perfect, it was so fun to do that again; remember that’s how I would get all of Kuroo’s flings to ditch the house. Nice touch though, saying you love me.”

“Yeah.” But he lied, he was still hopelessly in love with you.

Kageyama Tobio

It was supposed to be the biggest publicity stunt of his career, he had no idea why this was deemed a ‘good’ idea. But his entire team of advisors insisted that this would move him up in his career; to get caught in a dating scandal. They had even brought him a list of potential clients for the job, or as they described it, potential love interests. He was too embarrassed to tell anyone, he was even too embarrassed to try and pick out someone just based on their looks that he told his committee to ‘just pick someone’. That’s how it started, that’s how you entered his life.

Kageyama Tobio caught on a date with a-list star Y/N.

“It looks good doesn’t it?” You show him your phone screen, you were with him in the locker room. It was game day for him and you had to show up to support your boyfriend. From the three months you had gotten to know him, you could tell he wasn’t much of talker; at least not at the moment.

He only nods when he sees your screen, “Yeah.”

“Oh here, I got you this.” When you throw the item, he automatically catches, “I heard that you loved milk cartons so I got you one as a good luck measure for your game.” Your smile catches him off guard, “Cute isn’t it? I found this place that sells cute milk boxes with different styles on them. Look.”

He turns the carton to place it upright, “It’s a volleyball.”

“Cute right?!” You sit upright to face him, “Hey, this whole publicity thing, don’t think too much about it okay. It’ll be over before you know it; they’re planning on releasing our break up article in a few months but in the meantime we can just be friends.”

The door opens and the voices of men enter, as you turn your head, a dusty blush paints his cheeks.

“Kageyama, you can’t have a girl in here.” The men begin to crowd you.

You smile innocently, “Surprise!” You’re pulling a small basket of bento boxes out from under your seat, “I know I can’t be in here, but this will be our little secret. I just wanted to thank you guys for being so nice to my boyfriend.”

The boys thank you as they take the gift from your hands. The hand on your back makes you turn, grinning at Kageyama as he starts to lead you out the door. When you two reach outside the doors, you’re bidding him farewell until he pinches the back of your shirt to bring you back.

“Here.” He drapes the jacket on your shoulders, “Cheer loudly for me okay?”

You slip your arms into the jacket, a small giggle on the tip of your tongue, “I’ll make sure I’m the only one you can hear.” You wink before skipping away.

Kita Shinsuke

He always told you that you were too quick to get ahead of yourself, but how could you not when you were actively competing with his cousin’s girlfriend. He knew you absolutely despised her especially since at the last family gathering, she announced she got a promotion at work right after you told everyone you just got hired at your dream job, earning her immense praise from Kita’s grandmother while you got a pat on the back. It irritated the hell out of you. You were so much more involved in his family than she was so why was it so hard to earn a little praise from his grandmother.

“Honey, I think you need to calm down a little bit.” Kita tries to take the champagne cup from your hand, “I don’t know why they’d serve champagne at a child’s birthday party.”

You laugh, wrapping a hand onto his arm, “I just can’t believe she would do that, announcing that they’re moving in together.” You whisper to him, “You know what, she’s definitely getting back at me.”

He’s quickly pulling away your fourth cup of champagne, “And just why would she do that, she has no reason.”

“Not true.” You wave at a family member who’s passing by, you’re leaning into Kita more, “Remember your mom’s birthday part, we wore the exact same outfit, and your mom made her change.”

“I think you’re thinking into things here honey.” You shoot a short glare at him, his mother was right, Kita was too nice to understand the situation.

You give him a slight squeeze on his arm when the rival couple approaches, “Quick, think, what tops moving in together?”

“Y/n seriously.” Kita puts on a smile when his cousin approaches.

She gives you a look from your head to your toes, “So how are you guys? You’ve been dating for a while now.”

“Six years.” You say proudly, “Just four more than you’re relationship right?”

She gives a haughty laugh, “Yes, well, at least we’re going to be living together now.”

“We’ll be moving in together soon anyways.” Your lips move faster than your brain, “After all, we’re engaged.”

Kita spits out his drink, his cousin reciprocates; coughing as he congratulates Kita on finally popping the question. Suddenly all the family members nearby crowd you two, giving congratulatory praise for the sudden engagement.

Kita drags you off to the side, “Excuse me, just when did I propose to you.”

Your stomping your foot, “She was just so irritating, I had to do something.”

“Something?” Kita tries to not fall for your pout, “That something is us planning a wedding.”

Your pout gets bigger, soft eyes as you lean your chest out with your hands behind you, “Well, I just love you so much.”

He becomes flustered, “Fine. We’ll fake our engagement.”

You smile, pressing a quick peck to his lips, “Don’t worry, I’ll pretend I didn’t know that you were planning on proposing next week under the tree by the rice field.”

“I can’t tell those twins anything.”

Miya Osamu

He thought it would be funny to play a prank on his brother. Atsumu had been bugging him so much lately that it was practically unbearable; especially when he started randomly dropping by the apartment. It wasn’t romantic trying to reach your high hearing someone else call your boyfriend’s name. So, Osamu thought it was time that Atsumu got taught a lesson on leaving his brother alone. Osamu practically begged you to go along, at first you thought it was a cruel prank, but the day Atsumu opened the bathroom door while you were in the shower; that was the day that you gave Osamu the okay.

“Samu!” Your voiced intruded the volleyball team’s practice. You were angrily storming into one of their free practice days, Osamu specifically picked this day as to not intrude on actual practice and to plan a special surprise Onigiri Miya delivery, “How could you?”

“Babe what’s wrong.” He greeted you with a concerned look. All heads turned to you, even Atsumu’s eyes were hooked onto the situation.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me. You know exactly what you did.” You’re sharp with your words, “Did you think I wouldn’t know, that you’re messing around with some whore behind my back.”

Gasps fill the air, Water spurts out of Atsumu’s mouth.

“Babe, what are you talking about.”

“Is that why Atsumu’s been over a lot lately? To keep my attention away from your cheating. Is he supposed to distract me when you come home late?” Your eyes are reddening, Osamu and you practiced how to fake cry beforehand, “You sicken me, both of you!” You point at Atsumu who’s heavily shaking his head at the assumption.

“Wait, baby.” Osamu grabs your wrist but you turn, planting a hand harshly onto his cheek and he lets go as you storm off.

“Samu.” Atsumu whispers.

Osamu shoots his brother a look, “Don’t even think about following us.”

“Babe!” Osamu is running after your figure.

When he catches you in the hallway, you’re turning around with a giggle. You run a hand over where you slapped him, pressing a kiss on the area while he wipes away your tear stains.

“How long do you think he’ll be away.” You whisper.

Osamu lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder, “Long enough.”

In the gym, the tension in the air sticks like glue. Atsumu is having a mental breakdown on the benches while three men stare from the court.

“I bet you guys it was a prank.” Sakusa states. The other two insist it wasn’t, the scene was just too real for it to be fake.

[hisfavoritecherry]

right place, right time

summary: harry decides to take a trip to japan in an attempt to take his mind off of some things; that is, until one of the things finds its way back to him. 

warning: sadness, degredation, smut, all that good stuff

word count: 3.2k+

January 6, 2019; Tokyo, Japan. 

Harry would have never expected to find himself here. Well, he did at some points, but the ideas were never conclusive and he had never actually envisioned himself booking a flight, taking the plane, and arriving in the city that one of his most treasured books was based off of. The trip was obviously an irrational decision and after tour, there was no place he would’ve rather been (other than home, but even that didn’t feel like the right choice at the moment). He needed a new area, a new location, a new setting; to put it simply, a new place to miss you. 

You and Harry had broken things off just shortly before he went away for work, explaining that you just couldn’t handle him being away for that long and that maybe, just maybe, it was for the best. You were starting your new job as a journalist for the New York Times and it was a big step in your career for you, and you knew that there should be absolutely nothing that would prevent you from achieving it. Even him. 

He agreed, obviously, as he’s always respected you and your aspirations and he knew that he didn’t want to be the one thing that was holding you back. He’s encouraged you to do everything you can to do what you want to do as you’ve encouraged him to do the same, and even if it broke his heart, you deserved it more than anyone he’s ever known in his twenty-four years of life. You stayed friends and would call every now and then, updating him on gossip in the office or just things happening in your everyday life. You’d ask him about events happening around him as well and he would say the same thing every time. That it’s the same-old, that he’s okay, that he misses you. A smile would creep upon your lips as you knew you felt the same way, but nothing would change, no matter how much you both wanted it to. 

The only remaining problem was that you stayed on his mind the whole time after you had split, and regardless of how many times he tried to stray away from you, the thought of you always spilled back into his mind like ink on paper; you were his familiarity and he was yours.

He would see someone in the crowd who looked like you; there you were. He went on runs when he managed to get days away from the stage and put his playlist on shuffle, hearing the song you both claimed and danced together to in his kitchen that one time; there you were. He visited a random corner cafe and got your order just to see what all the fuss was about but ended up frowning and hating it deeply because it was too sweet; there you were. Every goddamn chance he got, there you were. 

Harry had expected things to change as he disembarked the outing, suggesting that perhaps if he had different people surrounding him, his conceptions would change as well. 

They didn’t. It worsened, in fact, and he ended up seeing you more wherever he went. Every face, every place, every name, it brought him back to you and he eventually accepted that you would never go away, or at least would go away in slivers at a time. So to take his mind off of the idea of you for the meanwhile, he used most of his days and nights to go out with friends and find new individuals to satisfy his cravings for the ghost of you. Not sex, or anything else, he simply just found new things to fill the void and help him ignore the pain he was so evidently feeling.

It’s currently February 1. The day he was dreading, his now second birthday without you next to him. Harry decided to spend today at Sarutahiko Coffee, a cozy cafe just a few blocks down from where he was staying. Partying and going out to karaoke with his friends was fun, hell, sometimes he thought about dropping everything and moving here just to be able to live this lifestyle, but it did get tiring at some points, and there is nothing else he’d rather be doing than perching up against a corner in the shop and reading his book right now.

The work of choice held tightly in his grip is The People Look Like Flowers at Last by Charles Bukowski, reading the poems flowing from the creme-colored pages and writing thoughts in a journal kept close to him about things that stood out the most. 

 “A love like that was a serious illness, an illness from which you never entirely recover.”

What a load of donkey shit, Harry thought to himself. Love was nothing but heavy unfair baggage to him now, and he no longer believed in it. Not if he didn’t get to have you.

He chuckles to himself softly at the notion, jotting it down onto the paper and crossing it out immediately after.

It’s pathetic to Harry. How he was acting this way towards your relationship with him, how looked at the situation so negatively and sourly. He loved you so much that everytime he saw you, his breath hitched and he felt as if his heart would pump out of his chest. That every step you took closer to him, it would land him closer to a casket or his deathbed.

The bell tolls and he doesn’t bother tilting his head to see if it’s a customer coming in or leaving, as it’s been occurring all day and he just doesn’t pay mind to the action anymore. He continues to let his eyes touch every word on the page but abruptly stops when he recognizes a tone of voice. 

“Hi, how are you?”

It’s not her. Can’t be. Wouldn’t be. She’s not even in Tokyo.

Nonetheless, he looks up in the most subtle form of curiosity beaming from his aura. 

There you were. Your head cocking to the side, smiling at the cashier taking your order as you speak broken Japanese in an hasty endeavor to communicate with them. You’re dressed in a flowy white dress covered in tiny pink flowers attached to green leaves, hugging your waist in all the right places and a nude bag clutched around your shoulder. Around your back and arms is the baby pink cardigan Harry gave to you for your twenty-first birthday, the one he was so strangely excited to give to you because secretly, he knew he would be able to take the material off of you once the party was over and everyone had gone home.

He’s stunned and stopped in place now, his eyes wide open as he had no clue what to do at this point.

As if the stars had aligned in place at the perfect time, you’re standing in front of him and it feels like he can’t move.

He had only ever spoken to you through calls, not getting the chance to Facetime because he never had the time to while he was away, and you look different. A good different. Your hair is a little longer than he last saw you and tinted lighter, and it’s apparent that your skin is glowing now. Not a pregnancy glow, he hopes.

He snaps out of his trance as you grab your latte off of the counter, turning to find a seat around the cafe and freezing as you both make eye contact. Your heart stops at the sight of him. Him. The person you missed so goddamn dearly and the person you’ve been yearning for since the day you broke up. The person who’s kissed you when you were nervous, who held you when you were scared. The person you’re still in love with to this day, no matter the lengthy amount of time you’ve spent apart. 

A few seconds pass and you start to make your way to the area he’s sitting alone at. You’re praying in this time that he isn’t here with someone else, but in return, he smiles at you. The kind of smile you love, when his dimple pops out and his pearly brights show through. He’s the sun.

“Harry,” you breathe softly, lips curling into a grin. The sound of his name erupting from your mouth makes your lungs skip a beat as you haven’t said it at all in what? A year now?

“Y/N,” he says in return.

“Mind if I sit?” 

He purses his lips and hastily moves all of his belongings over, making space for your arrival. 

“Be my guest.” 

Your perfume dials into his brain as you sit and he smiles at the easily recognized scent. The silence between the two of you now is deafening and to be frank, annoying. You wish you could hold him in your arms again and tell him you missed him and you love him and that this whole time, all you’ve ever wanted to do was call him and find your way back to him, but you don’t. You can’t. Not here, at least. 

“So-”

“You-” You both start speaking at once.

“Whoops, my bad. You go first,” you say softly, pressing your lips into a line which makes him laugh gently.

“I was going to say, y’ look good, Y/N.” 

Your heart stops once more and everything comes rushing back to you.

The first time he kissed you, the first time he held your hand, the first time you made love, the first time you fucked, the last time you kissed, the last time he held your hand, the last time you made love, the last time you fucked.

“Thank you,” you look down out of pure nervousness as you don’t want to mess it up. “You do too, I’ve missed you.”

A moment of stillness is shared between you two and you instantly regret saying it, God knows if he feels the same way and if he could be missing someone else who isn’t you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, forget I said that, please.”

“No, s’ all good, was just registering into my brain that you actually said that,” he pauses, running his hands through the chestnut locks held atop his head. You never noticed but his hair has grown a large amount, almost touching his neck now. He’s wearing a light brown cardigan around a white tee shirt, sunglasses hanging off of the edge of the material. His eyes are duller and he looks more tired, worrying you, but you don’t want to fuss just yet about why that is.

“I missed you too.”

You both smile and nod together, almost as if in sync and you observe that although it’s awkward now, it’s a comforting kind of awkward and you know that he’s finally here in front of you, with a blatantly inviting heart and the softest smile to grant you access to it. 

“So what are you doing in Tokyo?” he asks, taking a sip from the mug filling to the brim with black coffee that seems like he didn’t bother touching since the moment he arrived. 

“I could ask you the same thing. But I’m here just to visit, work’s been on my ass and I just needed a way to escape. I worked my ass off everyday since my first day on the job and I never slacked. Not once. But it gets tiring, y’ know, so I was like, Japan seems like a cool option. So I used up my savings and booked a flight. Been here for a few days. Weird that we ended up at the same time, though, I guess,” you giggle delicately and it sounds like music to Harry’s ears, a melody he hasn’t heard in what feels like forever. He stays silent in response as he puzzles together in his mind how this could have happened. How you managed to come to the same cafe as him, at the same time, in the same city. Right place, right time, he suggests to himself.

“And you?”

You like that about Harry. You like that you’re able to spill your heart out to him and he would accept all of it with open arms, listening as closely as he possibly can and registering every spoken word into his brain. 

“After tour ended, I was weighing all the possible options on where I could spend the time writing the next record and getting my mind off of some other shit, an’ I guess we had the same idea of randomly choosing Japan.”

“Yeah? Where are you staying?” you ask quietly, tiny hands curling around the cup of your liquid of choice. You realize that maybe it was a bit of a reach to ask, but you’re curious and you’re almost positive he’s the same. 

“I can show you if y’ want,” Harry taps his fingers against the wooden table dividing the two of you and you nod in response, and him mentally breathing out in relief that it didn’t backfire onto him. You had no plans for the rest of today, anyways, other than exploring the city a bit more, and it wouldn’t hurt to check the place out for a few minutes or so. You both grab your belongings, heading towards the exit and smiling at the workers who do the same in return. 

You walk a mere five minutes in silence before arriving at a tall brick-built building. You assume it’s an apartment complex and he unlocks the main entrance, heading towards a set of doors that end up being an elevator. You both pile into the lifting device and he clicks the number 10.

“S’ nice,” you say softly, tugging at the hem of your dress-skirt. He nods in response and folds his arms together. 

Harry’s heart is racing faster than he can think and it feels like time is going slower than usual. It’s never normal for him to be anxious or nervous like this around you, you’re his sense of calmness and the only person he feels like he can totally know himself with.

But he can’t wait any longer. He doesn’t want to lose you again, not like this. 

Harry steps in front of you, eyes peering down and his hands tuck around the back of your neck. Your hands absentmindedly wrap around his waist, and you know what’s going to happen next but honestly, you’re so grateful for it.

“If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it?”

He smiles at you once more before cocking his head to the side and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“You’ll have to see for yourself.” You don’t let another moment pass before eagerly smashing your lips against his, him pressing you up against the elevator wall and wrapping your leg around his middle. He tastes like mint and forgotten love, the sweet tang of the person you’ve missed so fucking much. You can feel him hardening against your center as your lips move together in sync, releasing from each other’s embrace as Harry moves down to your neck and leaves soft pecks around the area. He moves up to the spot right behind your ear that he knows makes you go crazy, which makes your cunt ache for him and only him.

The elevator dings above your frames and he pulls off of you immediately, the both of you moving to the side of one another as an elderly lady enters. You look up to see Harry smirking to himself with his lips pressed into a line and you nudge his side while rolling your eyes, him chuckling in return.

It doesn’t take long before you arrive at his floor, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leads you to the exit and towards his door. He fumbles with his keys for a moment as you lean up to suck the nape of his neck fervidly, leaving marks as you go and him groaning tacitly.

“And don’t think I forgot that it’s your birthday,” you whisper against his ear, giggling and kissing against it as he’s finally able to get it unlocked. He pushes the door open to reveal a large penthouse that you don’t get a second to look around before you’ve dropped down to your knees, trembling as you unbuckle the belt around his waist. You don’t want to admit it but this is the first time you’ve both ever gotten laid since you ended things and you never would have guessed that this would’ve been with each other. Harry throws the stack of books previously held in his clutch onto the couch nearby and helps you tug down his jeans, his black briefs now in vision and erection planted directly in front of you. You stroke him through the material and leave kisses across it, making your way to the tip of it and pulling the briefs down with your teeth. He hisses at the teasing action with glistening eyes and you can’t help but smirk to yourself at the sight of it, grabbing him between your fingers and using them to move down his shaft. You’re looking up at him now and his head is thrown back, moaning at the feeling of pent-up deprivation finally being taken care of. 

You use your tongue to swirl around the tip, catching any of the precum dribbling from his cock in the swells of your mouth and he grabs a handful of your hair to guide you through it.

“Fuck, jus’ like that,” he pauses, using his strength to bob your head up and down but making sure it’s only the amount of him you’re able to take. “I’ve missed you, baby,”

Tears begin to gather at the crease of your eyelids before he releases his grip each time, and it doesn’t take long before he’s picking you up and carrying you to his bedroom. You whine in irritation and make rebuttals for him to put you down and he pats your ass, placing you down softly onto the mattress and continuing to work his way around your heart-shaped lips. He pulls up the material around your body and throws it to the other side of the room to reveal that surprisingly, you aren’t wearing any bra or panties, and his breath hitches before taking a moment to himself and placing his hands onto you once more. It’s obvious that he’s trying to be as delicate as he possibly can with you but to be honest, that is the last thing you want right now.  

“Harry,” you breathe out, cursing to yourself as he kisses tenderly down your torso. He tilts his head in reaction; you’ve always been very vocal with each other about affection and sex and how you wanna go about it so it wouldn’t hurt to be that way now too.

“Please,” you breathe out. “Be rough with me, I need you so much,” you beg, him humming as a silent notion of ‘are you sure?’ and you nod in return. Harry’s finger dips through your soaked folds, digit swirling over your sensitive nub and using his other hand to hold your hips down as they buck up against him. Propping yourself up onto your elbows to watch him work, you whine his name over and over as his mouth is now attached to your heat, him moaning from enjoyment in response as well. He pulls away and you can’t help but want to scream at him for it, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. As much as he wants you, he wants to know that you’re just as needy and eager for his entrance. 

“What do y’ want, princess? Hm?” He taunts, pushing his thumb against your clit harder. 

“I want-” He presses harder, which makes you cry out louder.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you mumble quietly and he halts his movements completely, making you squirm and wrap your fingers around his arm in a poor attempt to reattach his touch back to you. 

“What was that?” You know he heard you the first time but needs to hear you beg for him once more.

“I want you to fuck me Harry, make me c-cum, please,” you tremble and it doesn’t take another second for him to pull his weight up before wrapping his hand around his cock firmly and hooking his other onto your thigh. He doesn’t give you time to re-adjust before sinking himself into you and letting out a groan, the moan coming from your lips sounding like a symphony to his perception.

“Shit, you’re so wet, all f’ me,” he wants to let you adapt to his length again but instead, decides to start moving himself in and out of you hastily, head dropping to your neck and you use his nape to leave your traces up against. He never expected to end up here, fucking you like this in his bedroom, but that was the last thing on his mind, the first being to make you cum. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry,” you plea. “You feel so fucking good,” you cry out for him, sobs being jagged and covered with lust as you move your fingers into his sweat-immersed hair. His face is tinted a bright shade of pink and moisture is leaking down the sides of his face.

“Harder, please, daddy,” the accentuating whines coming from your lips almost mask the nickname you’ve bestowed upon him for the first time since you last made love, but it makes his stomach riddle with butterflies and he follows your request. Harry pushes himself into you harder each time, his fingers trailing down to your center and pinching the skin surrounding your nub. The only noises throughout his whole apartment now is a combination of your moans and the bed softly creaking against the hardwood floor. He knows that you’re close and he is as well, but he wants to make it last longer for your first time together again.

“Y/N,” he groans out, brown curls falling in front of his face. “‘m not going to last long, baby, gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill you up like the dirty slut you are? Is that what you want?” 

You can only nod in response due to the dryness in your throat from crying out seemingly louder than you ever have and you feel yourself release and clench onto his dick, pinching your eyes shut and seeing fireworks glow against them. A moment passes and Harry loosens the grip from your thigh, stuttering and becoming more sloppy with his thrusts, but soon emptying himself into you and pounding into you one last time, sending chills throughout both of your bodies.

He waits for a while in order to recollect himself and give you a chance to as well, collapsing at your side as you feel his contents spill out of you. You know he’s about to grab something to clean you up with when he begins to move to the edge of the bed but you tug him back, nodding and pouting.

“Don’t leave, not yet,” you say, still out of breath and Harry chuckles quietly before pulling himself back and wrapping his arms around your waist, pecking up against the sweet spot near your neck once more and letting out a sigh. 

“I’m not leaving you ever again, not after what just happened.” You lean over and swat his arm, giggling and pressing your lips against his again. You’re both finally in the place that you’ve been dying to be in for the past year and you realize that maybe the time you spent apart was all worth it if it meant you got to be back here with him, in his arms, in his presence, in his bedroom, in Japan.  

[queen-scribbles]

Acceptable Risk

Art trade fic for the extremely patient @theheroofoakvale, exploring if Shepard’s recruiting Thane had gone a little.... differently.

-----

The door opened with a quiet hiss, and Shepard’s entry was greeted with the raised barrels of several assault rifles. The mercenaries, however, paused before opening fire, despite being confronted by three heavily armed individuals pointing guns back at them.

The asari in the middle of the cluster--clad for business rather than combat--spun to face them, her eyes widening. “Shepard?!”

Shepard smirked, centered his pistol on her. “Nassana.”

There was a muffled clatter in the ceiling that had the mercenaries’ attention swiveling upward. Her posture shifted defensive. “You’re dead.”

“I got better,” he retorted, and shot her in the throat.

Her bodyguards zeroed back in on him and his team, torn between them and the threat above, and that was their undoing. A dark figure dropped from one of the ceiling vents, and Shepard used that moment of distraction to take out two of them. When the remaining mercs focused in on him, the dark figure punched one in the throat and shot the other center mass. The few that were left went down quickly.

Massani and Vakarian kept their guns up, leveled at the late arrival, a drell, as he stood in the middle of the carnage, eyes fixed in an unblinking, regretful stare at Nassana Dantius’ body.

“Sorry if I stole your kill,” Shepard said after letting the silence go as long as he could tolerate. His pistol hung at his side in a loose grip, ready if he needed it. He didn’t think he would.

“I was not here for her, though the galaxy is no less for her removal,” the drell said softly, finally looking up from the dead woman and blinking just before he met Shepard’s gaze. “I am here for you.”

Behind him, Massani muttered a quiet curse and Vakarian tightened his grip on his gun, but Shepard didn’t even flinch. “I did wonder. Dantius hardly seems worth the time for someone of your... reputation.”

“And yet you still came,” the drell said, clasping his hands behind him and looking in no rush to kill anyone.

“She used me.” He let the barest edge of a snarl color the words. “I can go along with a likely trap if it gives me an excuse for payback. Also,” he took half a step forward, “seemed the best way to meet you, Krios. We need to talk.”

Thane Krios did not look at all perturbed that his target knew who he was. His expression remained impassive as he studied Shepard’s face. “Do we? What about?”

“I need your help on a mission. You can feel free to continue trying to kill me after we’re done.”

“Why?” Krios asked, still studying Shepard’s face.

“Why, what?”

“Why do you need me? Why should I help instead of killing you now?”

Shepard laughed darkly. “The fucking galaxy is at stake, I need the best of the best, even if they are out for my blood.” Another half step forward, Vakarian and Massani following this time until he waved them back. “As for the second question.... I know some things about you, Krios. I know you’re dying, and I know you have a son.” His pistol folded in on its clip as he crossed his arms and stared hard at the assassin. “And where he is. I imagine you’d hate for something to happen to him before you had a chance to mend fences.”

Three rapid blinks, a sharp breath, posture unchanged, but it was the most reaction Krios had shown in this conversation. “And would you make this...   something happen if I say no, Shepard?”

His calm was impressive. Shepard wondered if it was an easier illusion to maintain with eyes that had neither pupils nor iris to betray strong emotion. “If I have to. I need the best, Krios, which is you. Don’t really care how I get your cooperation.”

Krios was silent for a long moment. “This threat must be grave indeed for you to employ such measures.”

He was nigh impossible to read, but the slight shift of his clasped hands was hint enough. “I’m hunting an enemy who’s abducting human colonies and has ties to the Reapers, I’d call that pretty damn grave. Like I said, you can resume trying to kill me if we survive. What’s it gonna be?”

Another heavy pause, though shorter. “You have left me only one viable option if I care about my son.”

Shepard arched a brow.

“I will assist. Consider this a pause in the contract on your life.”

“Good enough for me.�� Shepard cast a smug glance at Dantius’ corpse, then turned to exit the room. “We’re done here, so you can either come with us or meet us at the ship.”

“I will meet you shortly. I have a few personal effects to gather,” Krios said.

“Alright. We’re on a clock, so don’t dilly dally,” Shepard replied, and motioned their departure to Vakarian and Massani.

“What’s to stop him from shooting you on our way down?” Vakarian muttered as they headed for the elevator. “He’s already planning to kill you and you threatened his kid.”

Massani beat Shepard to the answer. “Doesn’t know if there’s a dead man’s switch on that something happenin’ to his boy if Shepard bites it.” He chuckled darkly and smirked at Shepard. “What the hell’d you do to earn a death mark, anyway?” 

Shepard shrugged, watching the blur of downward travel out the elevator’s glass-paned wall. “Hell if I know, Massani. Certainly pissed off enough people for there to be some options.”

The mercenary gave a rough laugh and slapped him on the shoulder. “Wear like a badge of fucking honor, kid. Means you got someone real riled up.”

---

Krios was, as promised, aboard the Normandy well within an hour. His personal effects he’d gone to collect were few enough to fit in a small shoulder satchel that he politely refused to let anyone inspect. (Lawson was not happy when Shepard told her to drop it, clearly suspicious of allowing an assassin on board without first vetting his gear.) He settled in life support at EDI’s suggestion, and ruffled no feathers with the rest of the crew, unless you counted Taylor’s mistrust of his career in general.

“What will be expected of me, Commander?” Krios asked, in that same modulated tone he’d used on Illium.

“No shipboard duties, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Shepard said. He leaned against the wall by the door and studied Krios. “You can do as you like here. When we have missions, I may want you to come watch my six, if your skillset seems a good fit.”

“I see.” He folded his hands, elbows braced against the small worktable at which he sat. There was a hesitation under the words that almost rang in the air.

“If there’s something else you wanna say, now’s the time,” Shepard prodded. He didn’t have time to be gentle prying out secrets or whatever.

“My son,” Krios said, words measured and careful. “You say you know where he is. Would you be willing to share that knowledge?”

Shepard mulled it over, weighing the value of his options. “In time,” he finally said. “We have a couple pressing assignments that are more important than family reunions. But if we hit a point with some free time I’ll let you know.”

Krios nodded, his expression unreadable as ever. “Very well, Shepard.”

“One thing I need to know from you,” Shepard began, pushing away from the wall, “is if whatever’s killing you will affect your abilities in a fight.”

“It shouldn’t, not yet.” He paused for the space of a few blinks. “I should have several months at least before the symptoms become noticeable even to myself. More than enough time to complete your mission, if it is as urgent as you make you sound.”

“Is that something you doubt, Krios?” 

“Not at all.” Krios pushed to his feet and crossed the room to examine a rack of spare rifle parts. “Even someone of your reputation would have to be on a mission of urgency to blackmail an assassin sent to kill you into helping your cause. I simply mean this threat seems the type where a decisive outcome will be reached swiftly; whether in victory or destruction. Well within the time I have before functionality is... affected.”

“Good.” Shepard nodded. “Not sure when I’ll need you, but I want to be sure you’ll be worth it when the times comes.” He left the room, noting Krios’ undertone murmur as he did, and from the cadence wondered what the assassin was praying for.

---

Shepard first tested him on something that seemed of no consequence; a mercenary base on a backwater planet trafficking stolen eezo. Thane did his job, no more no less, all the while making note of how the man fought. The risks he thought worth taking, the sacrifices that were acceptable cost, the balance of recklessness and cunning. It was not a complete picture, not off one mission, and Thane wouldn’t act on what he’d gleaned even if it were.

Not with the blade the commander had hung over Kolyat. Not with the hope of learning where his son might be. Patience was the hallmark of an assassin, after all; knowing when to strike as well as how. And Thane had been an assassin a very long time. He could wait.

Especially as conversations with others aboard the ship painted a clearer and clearer picture of the mission’s scope. A trip through the Omega 4 relay was very likely to be suicidal just on its own. Destroying whatever these Collectors used as a base doubly so. When Shepard made ‘if we survive’ comments, he wasn’t joking. Thane could wait. He could help with the mission--it was a worthy goal after all, one he would have assisted in accomplishing without the threats--and then resume his contract.

After the mercenary base was eliminated, and easily, Shepard made use of Thane’s skills a few more times. Usually on missions with plentiful shadow coverage and good sight lines.

“How’re you holding up?” Garrus asked on one such mission, the two of them picking off targets from a bit of a distance while Shepard made viciously short work of the battlefield.

“I’ve had worse assignments.” Thane’s rifle kicked against his shoulder and the krogan he’d been targeting dropped. He fired another shot, just to be safe, and watched the body jerk then lay still, before searching out another target. “What of you?”

Garrus snorted, took down his own target. “I’m  here because he’s my... friend” --there was a brief hesitation, as if the turian wasn’t completely sure that was the right word--”and I trust that whatever he’s doing is worth whatever it costs to accomplish.”

“You’ve fought alongside him before.”

“Against Sovereign, yeah.” Garrus’ mandible twitched as he focused on sighting in another shot. “This feels different.”

He didn’t elaborate, and it was only a few moments more for them the claim victory and press further on with their mission.

Thane watched Shepard, and wondered what had changed in the eyes of his friend.

---

It was after the derelict Reaper, after adding a geth to their mix, that Thane’s patience paid off. At least in part.

“Your kid’s on the Citadel,” Shepard informed him out of the blue. “Lucky for you, Vakarian has some unfinished business there as well, and the techs need some time to integrate the IFF to the Normandy’s systems. I can spare a side trip for personal issues while they get that squared away. Be ready to go in an hour.”

Thane didn’t protest. Didn’t question. He could ask for details on approach to the Citadel.

They set a cold knot in his gut when he learned them. “He’s here to kill someone,” Shepard said bluntly, and all Thane could think was Like father, like son. That was not a path he’d ever wanted for Kolyat. Shepard didn’t have a lot of details, just that Kolyat was there. Apparently even Cerberus’ resources had limits.

They spoke to a C-Sec officer, then to Mouse at his suggestion--Thane was surprised but pleased he was still alive--both conversations Shepard kept as short as possible. Clearly he was not in the mood to waste time. Thane wished that hadn’t involved the commander breaking Mouse’s nose, but couldn’t muster much sympathy when the same proved true of Kelham once they got his name and interrogated him.

“We have some time, not a lot of it,” Shepard growled. “And we still need to find Sidonis when we’re done with your shit, Krios.” He turned to Captain Bailey.  “What can you tell me about this Talid Kelham wants dead?”

The picture Bailey painted--up and coming turian politician, vocally anti-human and gaining support--made it obvious why Kelham would want Talid gone. He had to be very bad for business. He was also in a very vulnerable position currently; pressing flesh on a walk through the Wards with only one or two bodyguards along for protection.

Thane had to admit surprise when Shepard was alright with them splitting up to track Talid and (hopefully) find Kolyat.

“You can’t find him alone any more than I can,” Shepard commented with a sharp smile s he and Garrus headed for the catwalks. “Stay sharp, Krios.”

As if he would do otherwise. Still, he bowed his head and asked Amonkira for strength and guidance before he vanished into the shadows, hoping they weren’t too late to save his son from a very familiar dark path.

Are you really surprised? a voice inside him mocked as Thane picked his route along catwalks and ducts, through shadows and crowds. Even if he hates you, that’s the example you left.

He shook it off. He didn’t have the luxury of internal debate right now. He had to pick out his route on the fly, keep in touch with Shepard and Garrus, plot out several ways to handle the situation that all depended on Kolyat’s behavior. And he didn’t know his own son well enough to predict that, so his solutions were all loosely structured ideas at best. Some plan was better than none.

It was a close thing, despite their best efforts. Kolyat spooked, shot the bodyguards and dragged Talid into his apartment with a gun to his head.

Shepard was only a step behind once Kolyat broke cover and very quickly had a gun pointed at him.

Thane went very still, watching this standoff. He didn’t know Shepard well enough to know what the man would do, but he knew what C-Sec protocols would be, and he could hear their approach. Shepard had been very clear about the limited time they had for this side trip, the fastest resolution--which would also fulfill C-Sec’s mandate to keep Talid alive--would end with his son dead, and Shepard was not a patient man.

Kolyat’s anger blazed, even from across the room, and he was far from willing to cooperate, his pistol pressed to the back of Talid’s head.

The loud crack of a pistol shot nearly made Thane flinch, his chest squeezing in protest at the thought of his failure. Just this one thing, I wanted to fix just this.

But Shepard’s shot snapped Talid’s head back, not Kolyat’s. The turian collapsed in a spray of dark blood and Kolyat recoiled. In that moment of distraction, Thane surged forward and twisted the pistol out of Kolyat’s hands, unsure if the tremor was adrenaline or rage.

Shepard was talking to an incensed Bailey; “No one will miss a racist asshole, I did you a favor”, but Thane’s focus was all on his son. 

“This was not the best way,” he said softly.

“What do you know?” Kolyat hissed back, struggling against Thane’s unrelenting grip.

“More than you might think.”

Kolyat yanked away as if the contact had burned him. Fury simmered in his eyes, and resentment, but he was alive. C-Sec would still have to take him in for what he’d been ready to do(attempted murder? That would likely be the charge), there would be consequences for what he tried to do, and Thane didn’t know if they even could “mend fences” as Shepard had put it. But he was alive. And hopefully could be deterred from a path Thane wouldn’t wish anyone to tread.

“Krios,” Shepard barked and Thane pulled himself out of his reverie watching C-Sec lead Kolyat away. But rather than Time to go, the commander nodded after the arresting officers. “Massani can help with tracking down Fade. You have until we’re done. I wouldn’t count on more than an hour or two.”

Thane blinked, thrown off kilter by the gesture, but recovered quickly.  “Understood.” He’d taken three steps after the C-Sec officers before he stopped and turned. “...Thank you, Shepard.”

The man waved him off, already walking away with Garrus in his wake.

---

An hour and a half didn’t go very far working through a decade of distance, but it was a start.

“Why do you stay with him?” Kolyat asked when Thane’s comms crackled with a heads-up Shepard and the others were on their way back and he stood. “If... this” --a quick gesture, more a flick of the wrist than anything, between the two of them-- “is so important?”

For you. In more ways than one. “Shepard’s mission is... critical. And there is, unfortunately, a time limit on saving the galaxy.”

Kolyat snorted at his father’s dry humor. “Right.”

“I will keep in touch,” Thane promised. “Perhaps we can meet again once this is finished. If you would like.” If I survive.

“...We’ll see.” Kolyat was staring at the table rather than him, but Thane would take it.

He nodded and headed for the door. “Very well.”

“Does he have something on you?” Kolyat asked abruptly. “With the reputation Shepard’s made, he doesn’t seem the type honorable people would be following.”

“I have made no claims of honor,” Thane said quietly, hand on the door frame.  “And with  the stakes of mission, some sacrifices may prove necessary.”

“Sounds familiar,” Kolyat muttered.

Thane made no reply, and didn’t look back as he left the room with a cold weight in his chest.

---

It ha been the right call letting Krios reconnect with his son. He seemed more centered, more focused, for having dealt with his baggage. Probably that whole ‘something to live for’ schtick. Shepard only cared that Krios did his job and the mending bond made the kid an even more effective pressure point.

Not that Krios had ever protested. Ever balked. But everyone had their limit, and if he happened to find the assassin’s, it never hurt to have a brute force solution in your arsenal. Especially as they were very close to actually pursuing the Collectors through the Omega 4 relay.

“Just a few more tests,” Lawson assured him. They wanted it to work right, after all. It’d be a real short trip otherwise.

“So,” he asked Krios, “out of morbid curiosity, who wants me dead?” There were plenty of options, he wanted to know who wanted it badly enough to hire an assassin. And it wasn’t like he currently had anything better to do with his time. 

Krios cocked his head, a flicker of what might have been amusement crossing his face. “I cannot tell you, Shepard.”

Shepard snorted and arched a brow. “Client confidentiality?”

“Client anonymity,” the drell corrected.

“You let some faceless coward point you at a target with my body count?”

“As you know, I am dying,” Krios said in that implacable tone of his. “Odds of survival were... far from troubling, as a factor.”

“And odds of success?” Shepard retorted.

This time there was definitely a small smile before Krios schooled his expression neutral. Not mocking or cocky, just... amused. “There is a first time for everything.” The faint amusement was gone when he locked eyes with Shepard. “How will we handle this, commander? When we are finished our mission, assuming we both survive, and I resume my contract to kill you?”

“Feel like giving me a day’s lead?” Shepard grinned sardonically.

“I could be persuaded,” Krios said. He shifted in his chair. “Let us see how things progress, shall we?”

You’d never know to look at the man he’d been... convinced to help with this by threat of harm to his son. He seemed perfectly at home, posture easy. He didn’t talk to the crew much, Shepard knew from EDI, but it was hardly surprising an assassin was accustom to solitude.

As if summoned by his brief thought of her, a glowing sphere materialized on the AI kiosk. “Shepard, Miss Lawson wished you informed that the IFF installation is in its final stage. For the shakedown we will need complete access to the Normandy’s systems, so it is recommended you use the shuttle for whatever you plan to undertake next.”

“Got it,: Shepard tossed in vaguely the direction of the AI. “That’ll make things tight,” he muttered to himself. He had something in mind that would likely need the whole team. They’d fit in the shuttle, but it would be tight. Last thing he needed was Lawson and Jack killing each other before they even hit the Collector base.

Krios was eyeing him with curiosity. “Commander?”

“Gear up,” Shepard said, heading for the door. “Got a search and recover that might take all hands.”

The assassin nodded and pushed to his feet, heading for his locker. “Very well.”

---

Their mission went well. Things on the Normandy in their absence, not so much. Shepard left a fully-staffed state of the art warship an returned to a picked-clean husk manned only by his pilot and the now-unshackled AI.

The Collectors had bloodied his nose, cost him his crew. Again. He’d had it.  “Ship’s not getting any more ready than it is. Joker, head for the Omega 4 relay.”

“Aye, aye,” came the determined, hungry reply.The pilot was probably even more eager than Shepard to punch back at the bug-eyed bastards.

Unlike Joker--and probably the others--Shepard viewed getting the crew back as a secondary objective to taking out the Collectors. The threat they posed to humanity ended now.

Get us there was his order, and that didn’t change when they came out of the relay having to dodge starship wreckage, or when they were harried by drones, or even when a fucking occulus busted into the hold.

“Krios, Massani, with me!” he barked, rifle in hand, listening to the scrape and thud of wreckage and lasers ricocheting off the upgraded hull on the way to the bowels of the ship. By the time they had trashed the occulus, Joker had them past the debris field and the drones, and a new problem had arisen.

New, but familiar--the same Collector vessel that he had encountered numerous times before. But this time, the Normandy had sharper teeth. “Let ‘em have it!” he ordered, a command Joker follow with alacrity Darting, looping, dodging, the pilot had them dancing around the larger ship, deftly avoiding the beam that had been their destruction before.

The surge of satisfaction at destroying the vessel was short lived, as it erupted in a fireball more than large enough to knock the Normandy into a crazy, barely controlled descent that could more bluntly be called a crash.

“Everyone alive?” Shepard checked over comms. When that was affirmative, he followed with, “Assemble in the CIC.”

This was it. A quick rundown of schematics pulled from the vessel and what he expected to find inside, a victory whatever it takes reminder, and it was time to go.

---

Than prayed silently to Amonkira as they disembarked from the Normandy. Let our hands strike true, and victory be worth the cost. There would be a cost, of this he was sure. He was familiar enough with Shepard’s methods by now there was little room for doubt. If I am among that cost, please guide my son, that his steps may trace a better path.

He wondered, if he should fall, whether his client would hire someone else to complete the task of killing Shepard or if they would let it go. He hoped it wouldn’t come  to that. He wanted to survive, to speak more with Kolyat before the end, but it would be what it was.

They split into groups, Shepard leading Thane and Zaeed, Garrus the rest of them, to serve as distractions while Tali crawled through the vents to let them pass. It was a good call; the Collectors swarmed thick enough any other plan would likely have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. They were not given the luxury of time for sighting in targets, so Thane stuck with his pistol--and occasionally biotics--firing, reloading, firing, with the odd interruption to scrounge more thermal clips because he’d run out.

Shepard’s back and forth with Garrus and Tali was just background noise, like the beating wings of their foes, as Thane gave his focus to the task at hand.

Tali stumbled out of the vent just as they finally reached the heavy doors barring the end of the hall. She beelined for the access panel, teetered as a couple shots ricocheted off her shields.

“Get it open!” Shepard barked as the three of them wheeled to give her cover fire. “Vakarian, where the hell are you?!”

“Almost there, a group of the bastards ambushed us!”

A Collector dove toward Tali and Thane shot it--rushed, imperfect, but the grazing shot knocked it off course long enough for him to try again. This time, it fell and did not rise again.

---

The sense of urgency, pounding Hurry, hurry, hurry through Shepard’s veins thrummed louder as the door beeped and started to hiss open. A muffled burst of gunfire reached his ears a handful of seconds before Vakarian and the others came into view, hauling ass down the passageway toward them.

“Massani, Krios! Through the door!” He rattled off a stream of cover fire, driving the Collectors to hang back for a second. Just a second. But it was enough time for the second fire team to reach the end of the passage and dart through the door.

Krios and Massani maintained some cover fire from the far side of the door, buying breathing room for the others as one by one they darted through the door. Lawson brought up the rear, her barrier shimmering out as the doors groaned on closing.

“They’re stuck!” Tali bit out, shoving one door with scraping, grinding protest along its track. Shepard and Lawson ducked through the narrowing gap just as a final shot slammed into Lawson’s shoulder and sent her stumbling.

“I’m fine,” she ground out, slapping medigel on the injury as the group of them shook off the adrenaline to register what the room held.

The walls were lined with dozens, hundreds, thousands, of the Collectors’ pods. The dingy yellow glow throughout the room spoke to them all being occupied.

Movement caught Shepard’s eye and he swung his rifle toward the potential threat. it was just one of the nearby pods; the dark-skinned, dark-haired woman inside stirred, pounding against the transparent canopy in a futile attempt to escape. Even as Tali and Krios rushed forward to try and free her, the pod hummed and the woman only had time for a single terrified scream before she simply... liquefied into a sludgy brown paste which drained away almost before his crew had time to recoil in horror.

“Commander! Over here!” Taylor fumbled with a nearby pod until a very disoriented figure tumbled out. “It’s the crew!”

That broke the horror that had frozen them, and the group surged forward to free their comrades before the same fate could befall them.

Chambers. Daniels. Donnelly. Gardner. All of them were here, as Shepard ran a mental roster, but Chakwas was the one to explain. Near as she could tell, the humans in the pods were being reduced to genetic material and ...piped elsewhere in the base through tubes, though she wasn’t sure where or why. That sounded like where they needed to go.

“We need to get them out of here,” Taylor said, hovering near a few of the engineers as they stumbled to their feet.

We don’t have time for this. “You wanna take them back, be my guest,” Shepard returned brusquely. “We need to destroy this base, but we can mange without you if it’s that important to you.”

“It is.” Taylor’s voice was firm as he tugged Chambers’ arm around his shoulders and herded the crew back toward the Normandy. “See you on the other side, Commander.”

---

Thane almost offered to accompany them; it was a lot of people for one man to safeguard. But Shepard was already snapping orders for the next stage of their infiltration. He’d be taking Garrus and Zaeed, sheltered from the overabundance of Seeker swarms by Jack, down the shortest route that followed the tubes. “The rest of you follow Lawson on the other route EDI indicated, draw some of the flying bastards off.”

Forward, then. Thane checked his reserve of thermal clips, made sure his pistol was undamaged, and fell in with the others as the door hissed open and they pressed on.

They hadn’t advanced far when the first Collectors appeared, drones and a small number of husks that were easy enough tot pick off. Their numbers only increased as time wore on, but that was the point wasn’t it? Draw them here, so Shepard could get through. Thane stood shoulder to shoulder with Tali as their squad advanced, shared his thermal clips when hers ran out first, lent what strength he could to the biotic barrier Samara had summoned to protect their backs.

“There’s a lot of them, Shepard!” Miranda hollered into comms when they were forced to take cover from a particularly large group, dotted with abominations and led by a scion.

“Good!” his reply crackled back underscored by gunfire. “Keep them the hell off us! We’re almost there!”

She hissed a quiet curse, then, “Yes, Commander!” Her fist flared blue and a pair of husks flew off the edge of the path. “Samara, push them back on three!”

The justicar nodded and the rest of them by unspoken agreement turned their focus to give the women cover fire.

“One!”

Strafing fire raked Grunt’s armor and he bellowed a laugh as he shot back. Thane admired his defiance.

“Two!”

The barrier Samar had been maintaining shrank inward in preparation. Amonkira, guide their strength.

“Three!”

The combined power of two gifted biotics exploded outward in a wash over overwhelming ozone-scented blue. Just as it slammed into the descending Collector horde, a heavy, white hot pain tore into Thane’s arm and side. 

He was dimly aware of Miranda yelling for them to move, of a hand closing around his bicep to drag him with them, of his legs moving to keep up until the gave out and he was hauled over someone’s shoulder instead. There was  rushing sound in his ears and it wasn’t until it was it was punctuated by gunfire and Miranda hollering at Shepard they were under heavy attack Thane realized it was Collector wings and not the lure of unconsciousness.

“Give us a minute, Lawson!”

“We don’t have a minute!”

Shepard’s curse was broken by static. “Vakarian, get that door open! Now!”

Time was fuzzy with the pain that swirled fresh at each jolted step of whoever (probably Grunt) was carrying him, but it still seemed an eternity before, muffled, he could hear someone calling an encouragement.

He slammed against something and the pain flared so white, for a moment he saw Irikah’s face. There was a dull murmur of voices, then a spike of numb shot through the pain and spread, blanketing, pushing back until he was aware again.

Tali knelt beside him, her omnitool just closing down as he became conscious of her presence. “Good, you’re still with us.”

“Thanks to you,” Thane rasped. He passed one hand gingerly over his injured side. The healing wound was large, like from a plasma- or other energy-based weapon rather than bullets. He could cope much better with bullets.

“You are welcome,” Tali said, pushing to her feet and offering him a hand up.

Thane accepted, but leaned against a wall once he’d gained his feet. It would take a few minutes for the medigel to truly do its work. He cast a surveying glance about as he waited. Mordin was limping heavily, Grunt, Garrus, and Zaeed all had significant battle damage to their armor....

And Miranda lay still, half-slumped against a wall, pistol resting in her limp grasp. Shepard knelt next to her, blood streaked in his stark white hair, but stood even as Thane’s gaze landed on them. “She’s gone,” he confirmed, as if there was any doubt. He half-turned, hand rising to his ear, expression flint-hard. “Got it, Joker.”

Garrus’ mandibles clicked. “The crew?”

“They made it back.” Shepard shoved a new clip into his rifle. “Taylor died getting them there.”

Thane grimaced. He should have gone along. 

“It happens,” Shepard said, as if he’d caught the self-reproof without even looking. “According to EDI, this next room’s the core. Vakarian, Massani, you stick with me, the rest of you cover our asses.”

He didn’t wait for agreement or confirmation, just strode to the console for the necessary door and and punched in the command to open it. Garrus and Zaeed followed silently, the former briefly locking eyes with Tali before the three of them disappeared down the hallway.

---

The rest of them hastily arranged themselves in a defensive perimeter, gazes and weapons trained on the two doors that separated them from the Collector forces.

Thane said a rushed but heartfelt prayer to Kalahira for their fallen, working the fingers of his injured arm to test the medigel’s progress. It would do.

The sheer number of Collectors made the task a difficult one--more than once Thane feared running out of clips for his pistol until a brief pause between waves allowed them to scavenge and share from the fallen. This sort of sustained firefight was far from his normal milieu, but this close to the end he was still determined to do his best.

They held as battle chatter from Shepard’s squad broke through the static. They held even though Mordin fell and Legion fell and Jack nearly followed, snarling and spitting curses as she struggled back to her feet. They held until Shepard’s order came over comms, “Move if you don’t want to go up with this place!”

Then they ran, Samara and Jack shielding them from as much as they could, the rest picking off the bolder Collectors even as they ran. They reached the Normandy, adrenaline surging as they gave Shepard’s squad cover fire until they were aboard as well. Joker had them rocketing toward the relay before the doors had fully closed, and the whole ship seemed to hold its breath until they were safely through.

---

As the adrenaline wore off, all Shepard wanted to do was sleep. But he couldn’t. Not yet. There were things that needed to be settled first.

Krios was in the medbay, sitting serenely still as Dr. Chakwas more thoroughly treated the nasty, half-healed burns on his side and forearm. (In sharp contrast to Jack, who was glowering and cursing about both having to sit still to let her injuries heal and being around so many people.)

“Looks like we both survived,” Shepard said without preamble. Chakwas took the unspoken cue and moved off to see to Jack.

“Indeed.” Krios didn’t move, hands folded in his lap as he sat on the edge of a bed.

“You make up your mind about that head start?”

Krios chuckled. “I believe my recuperation will be a bit more than a day, Shepard. A good time for me to visit my son, I think, and a good head start for you as the contract resumes.” His lips twitched to a small smile. “Perhaps my client will reconsider in light of your actions.”

“Doubt it,” Shepard snorted. “I get the sense their beef with me is personal. Doesn’t lend itself to rational decision making. We’ll see, I guess.” Stranger things had happened, but he wouldn’t be holding his breath.”I’m not going anywhere near the Citadel, in case the Council gets any bright ideas about me or my ship, but we can drop you on Omega before we head off.”

Krios nodded solemnly. “A fair arrangement.”

A less intelligent person might have wondered--hoped--leaving him on Omega injured was as good as a death warrant, but Shepard had seen him fight. It would take more than a set of already-healing electrical burns to put Krios at a disadvantage against the thugs on Omega. (And if they did happen to prove too much for him, one thing less for Shepard to worry about.)

“We can have you there in an hour or so,” he said. “once the doc’s done with you go get your things together.”

Krios inclined his head. “I shall.”

---

It had been a while since he was last on Omega and Thane hadn’t missed it in the slightest. Fortunately he wouldn’t be here long. Passage elsewhere was easy enough to  procure, and from there he could work his way to the Citadel. He could take some time to mend more fences with Kolyat before he resumed his hunt.

That was one thing about Shepard; he was never a hard man to find.

[floggingink]

OH HERE WE GO LADIES IT’S RIVERDALE, CHAPTER EIGHTY: “Purgatorio”

I’m tuning in to be VERY entertained on the grounds that I missed almost the entirety of S4 and will not understand anything

we open with an incredible analogue comparing the football team to the Army, as men do construct rituals: football players get blown into the sky, etc., in a heartrending mash-up of Archie’s innocence + the American ideal/expectations/pipeline of masculinity

Archie Company is decked out appropriately to storm Hürtgen Forest

that art direction trope where a character’s hearing goes EEEEEEEEEEEEEE after an explosion……...delightful

the Vixens and friends cheering him on from the sidelines as if Archie can only process his unprocessable present through the lens of his past………...hits the spot

distressingly wood-based rifles for our purposes

Archie > Dawson: I don’t mind telling you I felt emotion upon Archie hoisting his war buddy over his shoulders to that quadruple-toned “Chivalric Archie Using His Strength for Good” tune, like when he broke his whole hand busting Cheryl out of Sweetwater River

WHEN HE SAW HIRAM LODGE, I’M TELLING YOU! 

Hiram’s dragon-scale gloves? absolutely savory; he would

“Yonkers” is one of those New York place names I don’t totally buy is real (Poughkeepsie is another)

the sepia-toned light in this hospital room rings true judging by all the Captain America fanfiction I’ve read; I also like the mint-colored hand towels draped on Archie’s bedframe bought, one assumes, using the Department of Defense’s Kohl’s Cash

Archie made Sergeant, which is the best ranking for a fictional character: important enough that they can be a leader, get into trouble; low-profile enough that you don’t have to write them in the room making terrible decisions; probably won’t die immediately, as a Captain or Private might be

Fifth period is AP English: Archie reads A Farewell to Arms to Corporal Jackson, a WWI novel by Hemingway that Jug definitely turned him onto

Christ, Archie looks good in that on-leave jacket thing

I like Jackson’s subtle graph paper-print hospital gown

Gay?!: was Jackson in love with Archie? is he gonna bus to Riverdale once he’s off his pain meds? RAS, is that you in there?

God you know I love that haunted-ass Exorcist wooden bench bus light lighting

how long has the WW been relocated under Pop’s??? I do NOT know what happened to La Bonne Nuit

Sexy, aesthetic Southside: Fangs’ hair? his Tony Stark glasses? the girls’ “I’m a Slave 4 U” Burmese pythons? Toni’s headdress and immaculate glossed lip? 

Sixth period is Intro to Film: the only part of From Dusk till Dawn I’ve seen is Salma Hayek putting her toe in Quentin Tarantino’s mouth but judging from that I figure I’d like the rest 

The female gaze: Jesus Sweet Pea still looks good

Toni’s stage is flanked by twin pillars of melting candles and I would like someone to track those down for my bathroom

if they lay one hand on Pop Tate…

Betty appears to be, on her own, running the FBI training course. Betty is such a freak

Betty’s FBI-appointed psychologist is “Dr. Starling,” wears a great yellow blouse; Betty eats what appears to be a mini-sized Milky Way

her blond FBI trainer-boyfriend (uh) Glen appears to be an unholy fusion of Jimmi Simpson and that one actor with brown hair and really sharp light eyes whose acting credits I can’t think of right now, you know who I’m talking about (not the guy from Vampire Diaries)

I quite like her patterned blouse and I hate his yellow (gold?!) and blue tie

Please protect Betty: obviously we stan the Silence of the Lambs shit even as it remains infuriating Bryan Fuller couldn’t get his hands in it

Betty’s cat’s crying was so disturbingly baby-like that I had to leave the room once I realized it was in fact a cat

I’ve watched the Elisa Lam tape too many times in recent hours to handle this hallway shot

REALLY GROSS LICKING NOISES

the Trash Bag Killer coming at her was scary :(

Betty’s lovely blue knit cardi with the puffed sleeves!

50 Shades of Betty: clearing her throat before the doctor quite finishes her sentence—Lili Reinhart continues to be great at conveying “slightly perturbing subterranean tension”

was Charles a serial killer too??? oh damn!

Betty has been successfully holding off giving Glen a key to her place until now, an era that must come to a close

fellas, “Do I at least get a kiss?” is a bad move

Veronica was rich: Veronica’s new digs: exposed brick, bougiely avant-garde chandelier; possibly an elevator door right there behind the dude?

Veronica has married Hiram, to no one’s surprise

Chadwick looks like Jimmi Simpson and brunet Evan Peters plus a jaw

Veronica’s single-puffled-sleeved gown…..madamn (she has absolutely been taking secret birth control pills)

Summer + Blair = Veronica: of course Veronica would be great at Howard Ratner’s job; I MUST know what “specialty showcase haute couture offense” Vinnie has committed

T-Dubbs’ green jacket

Veronica pretended she was working at like, a department store? but she MISSED the EDGE post-day-trading

their apartment is so expensive that their bedroom is totally exposed

oh my god, Hermione

Best costume bit: please get me these satiny green high-waisted slacks?! and ugh her blouse has shoulder tassels……..she’s flourishing

“That’s threatening to an alpha like Chad.”

yes, they have a private elevator. fine.

Glen and Chad get their ties from the same Men’s Warehouse

“When that helicopter went down on the way to Martha’s Vineyard…”

you know kissing is 4-real when one person cups their hand to the back of the other person’s neck all close

I don’t understand the drop of the Glamergé egg but I appreciate that there is one and that Veronica is like, get this the fuck out of my house

Veronica’s shiny cropped tweed two-piece, Yvonne’s weird feathery coat that matches her bf’s shirt (you know she’s supposed to be “too much” because she’s got big hoop earrings)

God, Jughead is next and I’m not gonna be able to handle it

OH GOD IT’S SO MUCH WORSE THAN I THOUGHT

Alphabet City?! the piano?? the fucking East Coast Beat typewriter shit—the day robe? I’m—READING CLUBMASTERS? FORSYTHE???

OH GOD HE’S DATING ANOTHER WRITER (she has nice pants)

Jughead eats: “that place you like” is a HOT DOG STAND in the middle of SOME GRASS

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: Jughead wears high-ankle light blue jeans, grey socks, and spectators that blend to create the illusion of wading boots. I’m going to commit a crime

Jughead doubts it: “So did Kerouac. And Hemingway. And Fitzgerald.” 

fuck yes I love Floundering Jughead, and his Pushy Agent who pronounces “career” like “Korea,” and the continuing tradition of Jughead getting kicked out of his house

I like Literary Grifter’s sweater

the Brat Pack, and most of the Rat Pack for that matter, were actors, but I assume RAS couldn’t resist the rhyme 

I was 100% afraid we were about to learn Cora was an uncomfortably-young undergrad

the musical cue as she reaches into her bag is absolutely as if she’s taking out a gun, and it might as well be! it’s the scariest thing in NYC: an unpublished manuscript

showrunners doing a classic I Love Lucy job partially concealing Vanessa Morgan’s pregnancy via medium close-ups, draping black clothes

Cheryl slowly turning to ask if doesn’t she look okay 10/10 icon

Cheryl’s pins: she has either a tiny spider or maybe a tick

Cheryl’s sheaths: the lacy red thing, amazing

why is Cheryl’s left hand gloved?

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: Cheryl’s going to forge a Rembrandt, which unfortunately means she’s my favorite person on the planet (she does not look happy about doing this)

btw is Nana Rose an Immortal?

please tell me about Toni’s eyelashes

EXTREMELY HAUNTED DOLL?!

“Damn good coffee”: Archie’s earnest “Where are people gonna sit for the bus?” slayed me

fuck YEAH Ghoulies party house! terrible music but really good skull spray paint art

Jug looks LOW lol

Veronica’s blouse + buttons, impeccable

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: Tabitha/Squeaky

the hellscape semi’s red backlighting and its skeleton’s red eyes

I like Linette’s glossy bomber!

the trucker who’s about to kill her can’t also be the Trash Bag Killer….truckers have to stick to too much of a schedule….but he could be Betty’s meandering serial

I loved this episode

NEXT WEEK: Archie brings the FBI down on some people paying their rent :(

[emersonfreepress]

okay so is there content that you had planned for the ROs and story in general but then scrapped cause there wasn’t a good place in the story to stick it in? and if so, can you share what it was? 👀 👀 👀

yes, definitely. *rubs hands together* oh man, you done asked THE question today xD I can't wait to get into this 😁

Academics. I almost decided to have classes and grades be a minor part of gameplay, but the more time I spent designing it the more I realized I wanted nothing to do with it 😂 I haven’t really enjoyed academic gameplay in other interactive fiction because I 1) hate having to choose between studying and interacting with awesome characters, 2) have terrible short term memory, and 3) hate school in general!! So instead I just opted to have the MC be really good at school, point blank period so I could focus on social drama and relationships instead! 😆

Physical skills. I spent literal months crafting the catering scene around setting up stats for stamina/endurance, dexterity, and strength instead of just magnetism, confidence, and persuasion. They had their own backstories with the MC’s parents being overly invested sports parents instead and I think the background choices were like... martial arts, gymnastics, and track? But yeah, I ended up scrapping it all because I was spending hours on research about those individual sports so I could integrate them into the MC’s narrative organically but like... when I tried to think of what use they would be in the actual story, I came up blank. Best decision yet, esp since it means a lot less coding!

Skin tone customization. For one, I noticed that a lot of my favorite IFs don’t offer that customization and it hasn’t impacted my experience at all. For two, I originally realized I might as well not implement it since I am striving real hard not to introduce any customization that won’t actually be mentioned in interesting or meaningful ways in-story. I don’t think it’s really all that common for real life friends (esp in high school?) to comment or compliment each other’s skin and like... when it comes from someone who doesn’t share a similar complexion or ethnic background, that type of commentary gets... d i c e y. So then I wanted to be sensitive to that but what’s the pay-off? An RO mentioning how they love your skin tone once? Awkward sentences with the MC referring to their own skin color? Idk, just wasn’t vibing with it. I’m open to revisiting it in beta or something but for now it’s scrapped.

Singing, Rapping, and Gaming as Hobbies/Talents. I feel bad about scrapping these, honestly 😂 They’re great and I really wanted to incorporate them but it just came down to already having a lot of stuff to code. Plus, I know I can write the Hobbies/Talents I stuck with far better. And for Book 2 purposes, as well!

Leo. as @sourandflightypeaches ​​ asked me about a long while ago, I had to scrap an entire RO 😢 His name is Leo, he was the nephew of wealthy west African diplomats residing in Emerson, and I love him dearly! His backstory was largely based on my mother’s childhood and the circumstances she lived through after immigrating to America. and... ok, i’m about to go on one hell of a tangent so buckle up and bear with me if you can 😅

my intention with this story, aside from writing things that I personally enjoy (graphic violence, spooky woods, social drama, romance, conspiracies 😚), is to explore greed, wealth, and how the ways people and families interact with those two things influence young people and who they grow up to be. here i go sounding pretentious af 😝 and here’s where I apply a cut for those who want to preserve a little mystery to the main characters!

With Gabe, we’ve got someone who grew up with very little stability or financial security but who has found unscrupulous methods to gain status and money, with both noble and selfish motivations.

Kile has some of that childhood experience in common with Gabe, having been in the foster care system since infancy, but they lucked out when they were adopted into massive wealth by a caring, loving couple—a couple that uses their wealth and privilege to be far more lenient and protective of Kile than is actually reasonable or responsible.

Jack comes from a prestigious wealthy family on his dad’s side who he loves dearly but there’s no getting around the fact that they love him back as much as they despise his working class mom.

Jessie is a spoiled sweet heiress (being the baby of her family and the only girl) and while she lives blissfully ignorant of the harmful source and impact of her father's income and career, she bears the weight of the expectation to fulfill very traditional gender roles, including her behavior and appearance, but also extending to her career and life plans.

Rain's wealth led to them growing up sheltered and isolated but also extremely accommodated, giving them maximum freedom and opportunity to discover and develop their personal talents and interests. However, they have almost no positive relationship with their parents who have essentially decided to give up on a kid that couldn't be exactly the accessory they tried to mold them to be—both in terms of their identity and personality.

Rupan/Rohan, at their very core, rejects everything about conformity, self-importance, and excessive luxury—which means they have never, ever truly fit in with their peers. Going full non-conformist, however, has resulted in them becoming alienated from much of their family, as well, despite them all loving each other very much. Their history with false friends and betrayals has led them to over-indulge in their vices and reckless behavior to compensate for that isolation. Sometimes, they just get in over their head and many times, they know better. Every time, it's just that the feeling of finally belonging is utterly intoxicating.

Vivian/Vincent has two extremely successful parents who didn't inherit but instead built up their wealth and they aspire to be just like them, to a degree that is well and truly unhealthy. Their mother specifically is an over-achiever and applies mountainous pressure for them to follow in her footsteps, especially academically. Vi is completely capable of achieving what their mom expects of them, but they were already an extremely sensitive perfectionist so this has made them intensely critical of themself. This is a large part of why they are such a rigid, no-nonsense person and that in turn has made them one of the most disliked people among their peers—which is a huge personal failure to them since their father is a very well-liked and socially successful person in town.

And the Emersons are peak privilege: inherent high social status, brains, looks, charisma, athleticism, and massive wealth. They could never have been anything less than extremely popular, just by virtue of their last name and the nature of the town's social dynamics and politics. And they do enjoy that privilege (esp Curt lol). However, it should go without saying that being so high profile, even (or maybe especially) just in the isolated scope of your hometown, isn't always a boon. Their family's and their own perceived failings are widely discussed and privately mocked and/or celebrated. Real friends are scarce while fake ones and snakes are plentiful. Plus their dad is a gigantic dickhead who sees his kids as extensions of his own status and reputation and not much else. Public shortcomings make for an unbearable time at home and the world outside the estate is at once overly accommodating, full of assumptions, and even subtly hostile at times—all unrelated to their own actions or character.

And with the MC, I think the narrative will make it clear there are several ways that story can go. You start off with irresponsible parents that have lost their wealth due to their own mismanagement and material ambitions—how that affects any individual MC should differ based on choices and consequences!

So why bring any of that up when I was supposed to be talking about my cut OC? 😂😂

Leo was going to be the unwelcome recent addition to his uncle’s household, the son of a brother his aunt hates for (petty af) Reasons, and she took that resentment out on him directly by restricting his access to nearly every aspect of the family's wealth. Especially material goods and living conditions. He was basically treated like the help, tasked with playing nanny for his many younger cousins and burdened with doing the homework and providing academic cover for his dumb as rocks cousin in the same grade as you all. To sum it up, he was basically a victim of trafficking at the hands of his own family with his uncle out of town enough to feign ignorance to how bad his wife was treating his nephew and his aunt going out of her way to keep him busy, at home, and isolated. This is sadly a super common form of trafficking in Francophone African cultures (although I don't think most people view it as trafficking. and I’m sure the same is true of other cultures but I don’t want to speak outside of my purview). And like I mentioned above, it’s how my own mom's (and idek how many cousins') child/teenhood went.

It’s a perspective on modern wealth, privilege and greed that I really, really wanted to tell. I am confident in saying it hasn't been explored in interactive fiction yet (though correct me—and direct me 👀—if I'm wrong) and out of all the wealth/greed explorations I came up with, it's the one I have the closest personal ties to and the strongest feelings about. The characters and plans I had for it were detailed and I'm proud of them but at the end of the day... I just couldn't find a place for Leo in the story at large.

Leo was, in fact, the last main character I came up with, when I had already designed and fleshed out the larger story and started crafting the timeline of major events. I think the worst thing I could have done for a story and perspective that I care about this much is shove it into a plot that didn't have room for it at the very base level, regardless of how well the character or his story is written. Shoe-horned characters always stick out. I didn’t want to disservice Leo by having him be the character that did nothing or could be removed from the main plot without affecting it at all, y’know? That’s so much worse than just forgoing the indulgence, imo :((

ugh.... Leooooo 😭 I'm so sorry bb, I failed youuu 😥

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 6- Ultimatum

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for descriptions of unprotected vaginal, minor wing kink

Masterlist

Hawks knows what he’s been doing the past several weeks isn’t fair to you. In his defense, he was attempting to reconcile two different facts in his head. Fact 1: He is completely in love with you. Fact 2: He is completely loyal to Endeavor. Some days fact 1 wins out and he acts the perfect almost boyfriend. He helped you move into your apartment with Mina, he’d leave little gifts on your desk if he found something that made him think of you, and he kept things quiet so the reporters and your coworkers wouldn’t sniff out potential scandal. But some days fact 2 wins and he hesitates and grows distant. It’s not so much that he sees it as betraying Endeavor. He always has and always will think the Endeavor-All Might feud is dumb. But he knows that Endeavor will see it as a betrayal and like it or not Hawks owes a lot to Endeavor.

He sees the way you constantly try to anticipate how the press will interpret your every little move. Frankly, it looks like it makes an already exhausting job even more so. All you want to do is save people and instead you spend a nontrivial part of your day hyper analyzing your every move to anticipate the next day’s headlines. The other day you’d confessed to him that another bad headline could literally mean the end of your time at All Might’s agency and Hawks can’t even imagine that level of stress. And therein lies the problem. The only reason Hawks can’t imagine it is because the HPSC wiped all record of his name and Endeavor agreed to hire him once he completed training. So it’s not so much that being with you feels like a betrayal as it is that at some point he’ll have to tell Endeavor and when he does there will be hell to pay.

You know what Hawks has been doing the past several weeks isn’t fair to you. The hot and cold, on and off again is starting to give you whiplash. At first it was ignorable, after all you were busy settling into your new place so you spent quite a bit of your limited free time getting to know the woman you’d be living with from now on. Mina is a goddamn firecracker and you love her for it. Sure you’d seen some of her antics on Instagram before but you assumed it was all for the camera. Now as her roommate you’re realizing that’s just how Mina is. So for the first week Mina kept you busy even when Hawks would be in one of his weird distant moods. Then more time passed and it started to irk you. Was it or was it not his idea for this to not be a one time thing? So why was he being so distant suddenly.

Then the first fight happened. It was one of those days Hawks had been oddly distant. The task force had managed to narrow the possible groups responsible for the terrorist attack down to five and Hawks insisted each of you should take one to run surveillance on and the sixth person could coordinate. You thought it was a better use of resources to assign some of the lower ranked heroes to the surveillance and have the task force just coordinate and analyze what came through. “Don’t you think it’ll be a little suspicious if we suddenly aren’t doing our usual rounds because we're performing surveillance? Plus a lower ranked hero won't draw as much attention!" you argued. "This case is way too sensitive for us to be working off second hand information!" Hawks fired back. “I don’t know how you all do things over at Endeavor’s agency but our lower ranked heroes are competent enough to handle some simple surveillance,” you pointed out with a of roll your eyes. “What? Like Monoma?” Hawks shot back. “Maybe we should reel it in guys,” Midoriya tried to intervene but it was too late. “Yea like Monoma. What about it?” you replied, anger starting to build. “Just seems like a conflict of interest to me,” he shrugged. “A conflict of interest?” “That’s what I said isn’t it?” “Oh fuck off.” “So you’re not denying it.” “I am literally the first person to shit on Monoma in almost any situation but he’s a good hero.” “Interesting.” “Are you trying to die bird brain?” “OK! That’s enough!” Midoriya finally interrupted. “We’ll present both plans to Endeavor and All Might, let them decide,” Shoto had said simply. In the end they decided on Hawks’ plan.

The two of you probably should’ve talked out your almost relationship then. It was obvious to everyone else in the room that the argument was, fundamentally, not about task delegation, but you and Hawks were in denial and the angry sex afterwards made it easier to kiss, makeup, and just pretend it never happened. Except it did happen. And it happened again and again. On the good days you two are amazing, all sweet words and loving looks. On the bad days you’re a ticking time bomb. Every time you try to address it Hawks gives you absolutely nothing back. It’s driving you nuts. A fact you frequently make apparent to Bakugo and Midoriya. “Oh my god enough already,” Bakugo groans, interrupting your ongoing rant about the difficulties of being almost with Hawks. “Oh I’m sorry are my problems bothering you?” you ask sarcastically. “Look, we get it. He started this shit and now he won’t finish it. But if he won’t then why don’t you fucking finish it yourself,” Bakugo points out. “Kacchan has a point,” Midoriya adds in. “Not you too Izu,” you pout. “Don’t give me that look, I’m just saying maybe it is time to put your foot down,” he elaborates. “I’ve tried talking to him and he never tells me what’s going on with him,” you sigh. “Then stop talking and just hit him with an ultimatum,” Bakugo scoffs. “Yea! Tell him he has to make a decision now or you’re done,” Midoriya agrees. “What if he decides he doesn’t want this?” you ask. “Then it’s his loss,” Midoriya says. “Yea and we’ll kick his ass for it,” Bakugo adds. You really do have the best friends.

Hawks doesn’t know what to expect when you ask him to stick around after the task force meeting, but the thumbs up Midoriya gives you and the warning look Bakugo gives him don’t exactly bode well. Shoto exchanges a look with Hawks to confirm he’ll be fine and, when Hawks nods, Shoto and Tokoyami take their leave behind their former classmates. “So what’s up?” Hawks asks once the two of you are finally alone. “We need to talk about us,” you tell him and you can already feel him preparing to argue you down from having this conversation. “(Y/n)-“ he starts, but you’re not having it, not this time, so you cut him off. “I don’t want to fight right now. I know you’re always right. But even though you’ve been through the ups and downs with me, and even though I care a lot about you, you don’t seem to feel the same.” “That’s not true,” he refutes but even he knows his actions lately haven’t exactly conveyed how much he feels for you. “Really? Because we’ve been through it all, met each other’s moms, shared each other’s tragic backstories but lately, when it comes to talking about us, you can never spit it out for me. It’s like I’m trying to talk to a wall but you can never tear it down for me,” you insist. “That’s what happens when you ask personal questions while we’re still at work.” “What other choice do I have? You never pick up or call me.” “Maybe I just need more time.” “We’re running out of time.” “We don’t have to be! Let’s just talk this through later.” “No, we’ve done enough talking. It’s gotta be right now. I want you to hold me down forever, I do, but it’s your choice. Will you love me now or never?”

Hawks stares at you trying to process what you’ve said. He isn’t oblivious. He knows you’ve been getting frustrated with him being hot and cold. He knows the two of you getting involved was his idea in the first place. He knows he hasn’t been open with you about why he’s suddenly so hesitant. But he still hasn’t decided how to reconcile his love for you with his loyalty to Endeavor, so he still hesitates. “Can we please just figure this out later,” he pleads instead of answering as he reaches for you but you step back and out of his reach. “No. I’m drawing the line. I wasted two years of my life chasing something that wasn’t real with Monoma. I refuse to do it again. Especially when being with you literally puts my career at risk. So you don’t get to take any more time up. I need you to make your mind up. You’ve gotta decide Keigo. Now or never,” you insist.

It hits him then just how serious you are. There’s no talking his way out of this one. It really is now or never and something about the choice feels fateful. As if how he responds to you right now will determine his destiny. Almost his whole life he’s been looking for the kind of earth shattering, all consuming love you see in movies and tv shows. Something to fill the void his parents and the HPSC hollowed into him as a child. The stakes are so much higher with you than with the previous women he’s dated and he’s always been such a lousy gambler. Are you really the best bet? His mind is spinning with the daunting choice in front of him but then you sigh full of resignation and heartache and start to leave. It’s like someone mainlined ice water directly into his veins because suddenly the never is real. It’s real and terrifying and it’s about to be solidified by you walking out that door and he can’t. He absolutely can’t imagine his life without you in it right now so he lunges forward and grabs hold of your wrist. “Now! Fuck baby, I choose now,” he insists so desperately and when you turn to face him you both look absolutely cracked open.

The two of you collide together, mouths finding each other immediately. There is so much need and want and relief in that one kiss because for a horrifying moment both of you felt what it would be like to never have each other again. To never again feel that unique magnetism that constantly pulls you both together. Or worse, to feel it and yet be forever condemned to ignoring it. Keigo pulls you against him by your hips and his grip is hard enough you wonder if you’ll bruise. You make quick work of each other’s shirts and pants, desperate to be closer to each other. One of his hands reaches down to rub you through your panties and you’re already so wet for him. The little gasp you give at his feather light touches is absolutely intoxicating and he can’t believe that he almost lost this. Lost you. “I’m so sorry Love. So sorry I made you wait,” he whispers against your lips as he slips his fingers past the damp material of your underwear to stroke along your sex. “I need you Kei,” you whimper. “You have me.” “All of you. I need all of you.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

The floor of the conference room perhaps isn’t the most ideal place to finally consummate your love but neither of you has the strength or desire to complain or postpone this moment. Scratchy carpet or the finest silk sheets, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the two of you are together and finally, finally you can call him yours and he can call you his. So when he’s on top of you, underwear cast aside and nothing left to separate the two of you, you can’t even feel what’s beneath you. All you feel is his erection pressing at your entrance, his chest pressed to yours, and both of your hearts hammering in your chests as if anxious to beat against each other. You feel him in each and every one of your senses. As he presses into you, you both gasp at the sensation and just like that first time it’s so, so overwhelming. You clutch desperately at him to bring him impossibly closer and by the time he bottoms out inside you, you’re both on the verge of tears. “I love you,” he confesses and he thinks it may be the first time he’s ever meant it so utterly and completely. “I love you too,” you reply and for the first time in a long time the words don’t feel like ash on your tongue.

He starts moving his hips and it’s heaven. Each thrust into you feels like a solidification of the bond the two of you have formed over the past couple months since meeting. For the first time since Keigo had started getting distant it feels uncomplicated and you’re reminded again of why you’d thrown out all your rules for this man. This wild, beautiful man you could now call yours. You slide one hand along his back until you get to the base of one of his wings. You run your fingers through the soft plumage and delight in the shiver it draws out of him. One of his hands goes between the two of you to stimulate your sensitive clit and with each thrust you’re both seeing stars. His free hand finds yours to entangle your fingers together and he suspects that the tingling he feels throughout his whole body has less to do with the sex itself and more to do with you and the wondrous revelation that you want all of him, even the broken bits, just as much as he wants all of you. He ups the amount of pressure he’s applying to your clit and you tighten your grip on his feathers to match and soon you’re both hurtling over the edge into climax. You moan each other’s names into the limited space between you but there are multitudes contained therein.

You moan each other’s names but it sounds like I love you.

You moan each other’s names but it sounds like wedding bells and a family.

You moan each other’s names but it sounds like forever.

Author’s Note: This chapter feels short and I can’t tell if it’s because it’s actually short or I’m just paranoid about it being short because I made y’all wait a little bit for it. I’m happy with it or at least happy enough to post it but it’s not my favorite part that I’ve written for this series so far. I’ll try to make sure the next part is longer again to compensate for this one ❤️

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp

[let-the-dream-begin]

In My Daughter’s Eyes: Chapter 3 Expectations and Exceptions

Chapter 2

Read on AO3

One week later

Claire’s heart was racing, her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel. She had no idea why she was so nervous; Faith was in a perfectly good mood, breakfast had gone off without a hitch, and she’d kept herself occupied while Claire unpacked a few more boxes. Things had been going well with Mrs. Lickett so far; she came by two days ago to meet Faith, and she hadn’t objected at all. So Claire had every reason to believe that she would respond just as well to her assigned therapist: Jamie.

When the receptionist, Toni, had said the name, Claire’s heart immediately warmed for some reason. She pictured a bubbly, blonde haired young woman that would say all the right things to her little Faith. Claire had seen her fair share of over-ambitious, boisterous young women working with special needs children, and they were quite hit or miss. They were either absolutely perfect, or they were just…too much.

The glowing reviews of this place had Claire believing that this Jamie would be the former. For maybe the millionth time, Claire threw a glance back at Faith through the rear view mirror, quietly humming and bouncing, shaking around the little plush horse Claire had gotten her. In order to prepare her, Claire had bought the toy and a ten pack of postcards with horses on them to put on the wall next to her bed. Usually, Sorcerer Mickey was the one she insisted on taking everywhere, but today, she seemed to connect the dots between the horse-related purchases her mother had bestowed upon her and Claire’s constant jabbering about the horses they were seeing today.

So, all in all, Claire had no reason to believe that anything would be amiss. Faith was well-prepared, and seemingly quite excited. But rationality could never erase the knots in her stomach when it came to introducing Faith to something and someone new. The receptionist had assured her that if Jamie didn’t work out for whatever reason, there were dozens of other qualified therapists eager and ready to step in.

God, she wanted this to work so badly.

Claire glanced through the rear view mirror again, smiling. “I have faith in you, darling.”

The fact that her daughter’s name had proven to be so fitting and applicable was something that frequently stunned Claire into silence. The very second the word autism had fallen on her ears at the specialist’s office, the panic had set in, but she’d never stopped believing in her. Frank obviously had. So many brainless people in the world had no faith in disabled children. But Claire had seen her daughter in her quiet moments, and in her more animated moments. There was something there, underneath the anxiety, underneath the ticks. Something she hoped the equine therapy could coax out of her. Hell, moving to the states in and of itself was an enormous leap of faith. But Claire’s faith did not seem to be misplaced, in either her daughter or her own decisions.

Faith uttered a rather loud hum and made a silly face at her reflection in the mirror, twisting her hands.

“You have faith in yourself, too.”

An eighteen minute drive under their belts, Claire pulled into the dirt and gravel parking lot, her heart already feeling lighter as she caught sight of horses grazing in fields past the cluster of buildings.

“Faithie, look,” Claire crooned as she unbuckled the car seat. She pulled her out and settled her on her hip. “See the horses?”

Faith hummed loudly in excitement, and Claire beamed.

“Are you excited to ride a horse, darling?” Claire let her slide off her hip and onto the ground, taking her hand. “Let’s go meet Miss Toni and Miss Jamie.”

One thing was for certain: Faith most definitely understood what was happening, and she was excited.

Her humming had reached its peak in pitch and volume; she was jumping practically a foot into the air, skipping through the parking lot. Claire had to hold tighter for fear she’d slip loose and bolt right up to the horses. Claire checked the time on her phone: 1:45 on the dot, fifteen minutes early for their scheduled time, as Toni had requested. They walked through the doors into the reception building, and Faith immediately started pulling back, reaching outside toward the horses.

“We’ll see the horses soon, lovie. We need to meet Miss Toni first. Come on.” She tugged firmly on Faith’s arm and walked toward the desk, passing two other mothers and their sons, one who was chattering endlessly, and the other, a boy with Down Syndrome who was quite docile, smiling contentedly. Claire made a point to smile and wave at both mothers and the kids.

“Well, hello! You must be Miss Beauchamp,” the woman Claire assumed to be Toni greeted warmly. She had a sweet, mousy face, and eyes the same shade of brown as her bobbed hair. Claire had informed the woman that legally, their names were still Randall, but she’d prefer if off-paper she be addressed by her maiden name.

“Oh, and this must be little Faith.” Toni stood up from her chair and peered over the desk. “Hello, Faith. I’m Miss Toni. I’ve heard so much about you.” Faith’s humming and bouncing momentarily stopped, anxious, no doubt, at the sight of a new face. “I love your little horse, Faith! Your big horse will love it, too. Does he have a name?” Her eyes briefly flicked up to Claire, knowing that Faith wouldn’t answer.

“No, I’ve just been calling it ‘horsie’,” Claire chuckled softly.

“Awesome, Horsie it is then.” Toni smiled warmly, retrieving a clipboard with a pen attached. “This is Faith’s file based on what we discussed over the phone, there’s just a few things you need to elaborate on, and then I’ll call Jamie in. Alright?”

“Right, thank you.” Claire deposited Faith into the chair next to her, silently praying she’d stay put and not run off the second she let go of her.

“Are you from England?”

Claire glanced up from the paperwork to see one of the mothers she’d sat near was looking at her. “Oh, um, yes, actually. Just moved here.”

“That’s great,” she said, smiling. Claire hadn’t realized before she started speaking how very young this woman must have been. She was so tiny and her voice was almost a squeak. She couldn’t have been older than twenty-three. “My parents are English. You can tell I have the accent if you listen closely.”

Claire chuckled. “Where in England?”

“Cambridge. My father taught at the university and we moved to the states so he could teach at Harvard. My husband and I moved to the Island because of the program. This is my Thomas.” The girl gestured to the babbling little boy, seemingly repeating the same couple of phrases over and over.

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Claire, and this is my little Faith.”

“Oh, sorry, I’m Mary. Should have said that, I suppose.” She smiled sheepishly. “Your daughter looks just like you.”

Claire smiled fondly. “Thank you.”

“Did you come all the way here from England for the program?”

“Sort of. It was definitely one of the reasons.” Claire flipped to the final page of paperwork. “I wanted--needed, really--to get out of England, and I’d just finished medical school and was looking for a hospital to start my residence. I’d heard great things about Stony Brook and this program, and Long Island seemed like a quiet enough place for us.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“Not entirely yet, but that’s the goal.”

“Wow,” Mary breathed. “How do you manage? I can’t imagine pursuing a career with Thomas. I admire you so much.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Does your husband work, too?”

Claire felt her throat tighten slightly, and the pen froze on the page for just a moment. “We’re divorced, actually. He’s still in England.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. Really, Claire, I’m — ”

“It’s alright, Mary,” Claire assured her. The poor thing was stammering almost as incoherently as her son.

“I didn't mean to imply that mothers can’t have careers, or that single mothers couldn’t raise children, especially children like ours — ”

“Really, Mary. Relax. It’s okay.” Claire finished up the paperwork. “I’m not offended, I promise. It’s something I’m going to have to get used to discussing, I suppose.”

“Right.”

“Well, I’m off to hand this in. It was really nice meeting you, Mary. Bye, Thomas.” Claire waved at him.

“Thomas,” Mary chided. “Say goodbye.”

“BYE!”

Faith dropped her horse and clamped her hands over her ears, and Mary began stammering apologies again, and Claire waved her off.

“Inside voice, Thomas!” Mary scolded, but he simply cackled and returned to his contented babbling.

After coaxing Faith’s hands off her ears, they returned to the desk and handed Toni the clipboard.

“Perfect timing,” Toni said. “Jamie just came back in from his one o’clock.”

“Wonderful,” Claire beamed. Wait…his?

“Don’t be alarmed when you see him. He’s a gentle giant, I promise.” Toni winked.

“He…?”

And then there he was, a veritable giant indeed, entering from the door behind the reception desk. He had to be well over six feet tall, and his shoulders were the broadest she’d ever seen. Almost immediately after taking in the size of him, the first thing she noticed was the wild mop of red hair that he sported. It had to be the brightest red hair she’d ever seen in her life.

Jamie. Nickname for James. Not the feminine name.

“Hallo there, Miss. James Fraser. Great to meet ye.”

Claire had to blink back her shock at the sound of his voice, the roll of his “r”s, the peculiar lilt. Was that a Scottish accent?

He stretched out his hand and Claire took it. “Claire Beauchamp.”

He gave her hand a quick, firm shake before looking down and taking in the sight of Claire’s daughter. “Ah, this bonny wee lass must be Faith, then?”

“Uh…yes, here she is,” Claire stammered.

The apparently Scottish Giant walked around the counter and immediately stooped to his knees about four feet away from Faith.

“Hello there, Faith. I’m Jamie. I’m gonna teach ye to ride a horse.” Faith blinked at him silently, the hand that was not holding the horse jiggling. “And what’s this, then? Got yer own wee horsie, is it?” Faith clutched the horse a bit tighter, pressing it into her chest. “He’s braw. I think Pippi will quite like him. That’s yer horse’s name, Pippi.”

Something strange was happening to Claire’s heart as she watched him talk to her daughter. She surmised it was because no man had ever been so good with Faith in her entire life, the girl’s own father having miserably failed in that category. The good Samaritans at the airport had been kind and helpful, but none of them dared address Faith directly. Seeing this man, a total stranger, know exactly how to address her, exactly how far away to be, exactly how softly to speak; it was almost overwhelming.

“Would ye like to meet Pippi, Faith?” Jamie said gently.

Faith didn’t hum or move at all, just kept on jiggling her hand. Claire stooped down as well, kneeling next to Faith, whispering in her ear. “Hey, it’s alright, lovie. It’s time to see the horses now. Isn’t that exciting?” She hummed a little, eliciting a smile from Claire. “Ah see, I knew it. Let’s go then, hm?”

Claire stood up again, holding her hand, and nodded at Jamie. “I suppose we’re ready.”

Jamie stood to full height, once again catching her off guard at the sheer size of him. “Alright lasses, follow me.”

“Jamie!” came an excited voice from behind them.

They paused and turned around to see that the formerly quiet boy with Down Syndrome had called out to him.

“Connor! My man!” Jamie immediately approached him in long strides, crouching down and putting a hand up for a high-five, which the boy gave, prompting Jamie to recoil in contrived pain, shaking his hand.

“Ye get stronger every day, laddie! Ye’re gonna break my hand clean off someday!”

Connor giggled uncontrollably. If it was at all possible, Claire’s fondness for the man grew exponentially. Seeing how expertly he transitioned from gentle and cautious with Faith to playful and boisterous with Connor was amazing. It seemed he truly took the time to learn the intricacies of each of these kids’ needs.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got a new friend to ride wi’ today.”

“We will ride horses next Tuesday,” Connor said, nodding his head curtly. “I ride with Miss Jessica today.”

“Aye, that’s right.” Jamie winked. “See ye next Tuesday, then. Good to see ye, Pam.”

The mother addressed him fondly as Jamie stood up and returned to Claire and Faith.

“Sorry ’bout that. Connor never lets me live it down if I dinna say hello when he sees me.” He flashed an endearing, crooked grin, deep blue eyes twinkling.

“No, it’s quite alright. I hope you’d pay the same mind to my child. And every child for that matter.”

“Aye. I do,” he assured her. Jamie took Faith’s file from Toni without even needing to look at her, walking backwards to lead them out the back door. “Now, Connor over there is quite the social butterfly. He likes to rotate therapists, ye ken. His mam thinks it’s good fer him, and we all agree. But wee Faith over here is a bit more shy, aye?”

“Yes,” Claire said, rubbing a soothing thumb over Faith’s knuckles. “Strangers are a bit of a struggle.”

Jamie pushed open the door with his shoulder. “Aye, well that’s alright. We have plenty of time to get to know each other. She won’t be rotating therapists, unless fer some reason we dinna get along. Which, of course, I willna take personally,” he assured Claire, seeing as she’d already opened her mouth to apologize for something that hadn’t even happened yet.

Claire smiled as she felt Faith’s buzzing excitement returning at being back outside. She must know the horses were not far off.

“I read through her file last night. Disney fan, is she?”

“Oh yes, enormously so.”

As usual, Faith’s head cocked upward at the sound of the word ‘Disney.’ 

“Well, then ye’ll quite like Pippi, I should think,” Jamie said to Faith, still walking backwards. “She’s a royal horse, ye ken. Only princes and princesses get to ride her.”

“Hear that, lovie?” Claire swung Faith’s hand. “A special princess-horse for Princess Faith.”

Faith hummed loudly and gave a little skip, her wrist twisting inward, still holding tightly to the stuffed horse. Claire chuckled softly, her soul alight to see her daughter’s excitement bursting at the seams. Claire lifted her gaze from Faith to smile at Jamie, grateful for his cleverness. She was taken aback, however, to see that Jamie was, to put it bluntly, staring at her. She blanched, heat creeping up her neck. It was only a split second before his senses returned and he shook his head, returning his attention to Faith.

She’d certainly caught it…but she pointedly chose to ignore it.

“Alright, lass. This is the stables.” Jamie gestured grandly to the closed barn doors behind him. “Now,” he said, crouching down, once more at eye-level with Faith. “Ye must be very, very calm inside, Faith. The stable is where the horses live, eat and sleep; it’s their home. Like your home with yer mam. Dinna let go of her hand, and be patient. Pippi is waiting fer ye.” Jamie smiled. “Will ye be calm, Faith? Thumbs up if ye’ll be calm and patient.” Jamie held a thumb up and waited patiently before Faith responded with her own thumbs up.

Bloody hell…why didn’t I think of that one?

“Very good. Alright then, here we go.” Jamie stood to full height again and unlatched the barn doors. They creaked open, and the already potent smell of hay and manure thickened around them. Still walking backwards (Bloody impressive), Jamie led them inside and, after only a few steps, Faith was simply beside herself with excitement. Her humming reached peak pitch, and she was bouncing, jumping and tugging.

“Calm, Faith,” Claire reminded gently. “Patient. Calm.”

It was not very effective.

The horses didn’t seem to mind, however, and neither did Jamie. Claire was almost certain he’d seen his fair share of hyperactive kids in this stable that did cause quite a ruckus, and Faith’s reaction paled in comparison. They stopped about halfway down the line of horses, right in front of a bright sorrel mare with a white strip down her nose and a beautiful white mane.

“This is Pippi,” Jamie said, putting a gentle hand on her muzzle.

Faith grunted, dropped her stuffed horse, and eagerly reached up with her now free hand, desperately trying to wrench her other hand free of Claire’s grip.

“Faith. Be patient,” Claire said again.

“Faith,” Jamie said gently, crouching down to her again. “Pippi willna say hello unless ye’re calm and patient, like we said.”

His words fell on deaf ears as Faith continued to reach up and tug. The little whines came next, and dread settled into Claire’s stomach. She was on the verge of a meltdown, here of all places, the place that was supposed to help. Claire’s mind began spiraling: she’d made the wrong decision again, she’d made everything worse…

“Faith, please — ”

“It’s alright,” Jamie cut her off and reached into one of the pockets of the vest that was draped lazily over his flannel, retrieving what appeared to be a yellow ball. He gingerly pressed it into Faith’s outstretched palm and closed her fingers around it, immediately retreating his hand after she was holding it. She carried on for a few more seconds before becoming engrossed in the ball, squishing it in her little hand until her knuckles went white.

A stress ball.

“There’s a good lass, now,” Jamie said softly. “Get all yer troubles out of that wee head and put them into the ball.”

Claire watched in awe as the groaning ceased and the humming returned. Faith pressed the ball into her cheek, her forehead, her chest, her stomach.

“See? All calm now,” Jamie said.

“Good girl, Faithie.” Claire gave her hand a light squeeze, her voice breathy with disbelief.

He is so good with her.

Jamie reached a hand up to take hold of Pippi’s bridle then clicked his tongue. Pippi’s head lowered.

“She’s ready to say hello now, Faith, because ye calmed down.”

The stress ball immediately fell out of her hand and she reached for Pippi again.

“Gentle. Watch me, Faith.” Jamie firmly grasped the bridle with one hand, but his other hand was stroking the white strip on Pippi’s head with the greatest tenderness Claire had ever seen a man muster. “Try it, Faith. Gentle.”

To Claire’s utter bewilderment, Faith did not slap her clumsy hand onto the horses head as she’d expected. She, in fact, did exactly as Jamie had shown her: stroking the horse’s forehead and muzzle with all the careful reverence of a mother with her newborn. Claire didn’t know that she was even capable of such restraint.

“That’s beautiful, Faith. Wonderful job, lass.” Jamie gradually drew his own hand away, allowing Faith to pet her by herself. “I think she likes ye, Faith. I think ye’ll be very good friends.”

Tears misted in Claire’s eyes. She didn’t know what she’d expected for today, but it hadn’t been this.

“Ye alright, Ma?”

It took Claire a moment to realize that Jamie was addressing her, and she quickly nodded, brushing away tears in embarrassment. “Yes, of course. I’m just…”

“Aye.” He nodded knowingly. “I ken. Ye wouldna be the first.”

She sniffed and offered a tiny smile.

Jamie spent the rest of their time together pointing to the parts of the horse, the bridle, and the saddle and telling Faith the different names. She was not expected to remember, of course, but with enough repetition some of it would stick eventually. He also went on to talk about all the things Pippi liked and didn’t like, certain rubs or touches, apples and sugar cubes. He also managed to, quite convincingly, reveal that Pippi’s favorite movie was Frozen, which, upon hearing, Claire had had to bite her tongue to stop a fit of giggles. Jamie expertly wove Faith’s own interests into his information about the horse, and it left her speechless. By the time he finished, Faith was hanging on his every word, her hand still absently trailing up and down Pippi’s snout.

Today was not a riding day; today was a “get to know the horse and the therapist” day. Which, as far as Claire could tell, had gone off quite swimmingly. Claire had been dreading having to leave the horse, fearing a meltdown following removing Faith from her horse. But Jamie took his time with it, made sure she felt like she had properly said goodbye.

“I’ll teach ye how Pippi likes to say goodbye.” He reached into his other vest pocket and retrieved a sugar cube. He held it under her mouth and her  floppy lips snatched it up, eliciting a squeal from Faith. She immediately attempted to plunge her hand into Jamie’s pocket to get a sugar cube to feed her herself. Jamie was faster, though, dipping his hand in and retrieving a cube on his own. While her wee attempt at pick-pocketing was no serious offense, he still had to maintain that it was his pocket to retrieve things from.

Faith held the cube under Pippi’s mouth like Jamie had, and she shrieked as the lips protruded again, snatching it from her little palm. Claire laughed; she knew the difference between a good shriek and a bad shriek.

“Alright. After she’s had her sugar cube, ye pat her on the muzzle, like so.” Jamie demonstrated, and Faith immediately repeated. “Then,” Jamie released his grip on the bridle and clicked his tongue again, causing Pippi to return her head to its upright position. “We say ‘bye-bye, Pippi’.”

Jamie waved his hand up at Pippi, and Claire once again had to bite her tongue. There was something so endearing about seeing this giant, painfully masculine man say something as silly as “bye-bye, Pippi.”

Faith gave her own little wave, and Claire did as well, saying, “Bye-bye, Pippi,” on both of their behalf.

Jamie reached for the ground to retrieve the stuffed horse, which Claire made a mental note to vacuum and spray with Lysol when they got home.

“Dinna want to forget yer own wee horsie,” he said, holding it out to Faith, who took it in her hand and pressed it to her chest. Jamie picked up something else and then stood up and stretched his hand out to Claire. “Put this in yer pocket. Might come in handy.”

The stress ball.

“Oh, are you sure? Don’t you need it?”

“We each give out a dozen a week.” He shrugged. “They’re meant to be kept. Go ahead.”

Claire gratefully took the little ball into her hand, their fingertips brushing for the briefest of moments.

“Thank you.”

Jamie nodded curtly and then started to walk past them. As Claire tugged on Faith’s hand, she braced herself for a protest, for her to dig her heels in and reach back toward Pippi, but no such things happened. Faith simply followed, humming and skipping. She wasn’t upset to be leaving, wasn’t insisting on staying. She was simply…happy. Happy that she’d gotten to be there at all in the first place.

Claire almost started crying again.

They arrived back into the small welcome center, Jamie leading the way, of course, walking backwards, so he could freely converse with both Claire and Faith as he led them back.

“Princess Faith is back!” Toni said warmly as the three of them came through the back door. “Did you like Pippi, Faith?” Faith gave a little bounce, humming increasing in volume. “I take that as a yes.” Toni looked up at Claire.

“Yes, she was quite taken with her,” Claire confirmed.

“That’s great.” Toni wrote something down. “So Pippi is a good fit. How about Jamie? Did they seem to be a good fit?”

Claire glanced down at Faith, the sight of her smile taking her breath away. Then her eyes trailed back up to Jamie, and she was puzzled by what she saw. He looked almost…nervous. Was he really so worried after how well things had gone?

“What do you think, Faith?” Claire said, crouching down to her eye-level. “I know you like Pippi, right? Thumbs-up for Pippi?” Claire put a thumb up, and Faith smiled and repeated after her. “What about Mister Jamie? Does he get a thumbs up too? Mister Jamie?” Claire deliberately did not demonstrate this time, wanting to see if Faith would organically give the gesture herself. After a moment, Faith raised her right thumb again, and Claire’s grin became impossibly wide.

“Well, there ya have it!” Toni beamed. “You’re all gonna make a great team, that’s for sure.”

Claire stood up again and flashed her smile at Jamie, unable to contain herself. He had Faith’s approval now, something that was not given lightly, and this fact made her feel impossibly more connected to him than she should have felt. He, too, was beaming. His eyes seemed even brighter than they had before.

“Okay, so we’ll see you next week then? Same day and time?”

“Yes, that’s perfect. Though the week after it’ll have to be later since I start working.”

“That’s fine, we’ll talk about it next week.” Toni scribbled down the information and then smiled up at her. “Alright! You’re all set!”

“Oh, wait,” Jamie said quickly. “Almost forgot. Wait here.” 

Claire watched, bewildered, as Jamie scrambled out the back door again. It didn’t take long for him to return, however, holding a little black riding helmet.

“Sorry to hold ye up. Just figured ye should take this wi’ ye, to get her used to it.” Jamie held out the helmet to Claire.

She took it, her brows furrowed in confused wonderment.

“Chin strap, ye ken. Gonna bother her. And she canna ride wi’out it. Stable rules.”

Claire looked back up at him, something unnamable bubbling in her chest. “I didn’t even think…How did you know…?”

“Saw the wee bracelet on her belt loop,” Jamie said bashfully, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his vest.

Claire looked down and chuckled softly. It was a rubbery-plastic princess bracelet with snaps that she’d given Faith with the intention of getting her used to having things on her wrist, which had, of course, not gone over well. Immediately upon trying to get it on her, Faith had ripped it out of her hands and threaded it around a belt loop, then waited expectantly for her mother to snap it shut. Evidently, Claire had left it fastened and washed the pants that way without noticing.

“Well…thank you,” Claire said warmly. “I really appreciate this. You very well may have just saved us from the meltdown of the century next week.”

He chuckled and shrugged his enormous shoulders. “Think nothin’ of it, Sassenach.”

Claire blinked back her shock. “What?”

“Sassenach. It’s...ah, well, just means that ye’re English,” he said sheepishly.

“I know what it means,” Claire said. “Just a rather archaic term, isn’t it?”

He shrugged again. “No’ fer a Scot.”

Slightly frazzled for reasons she could not explain, Claire took hold of Faith’s hand and smiled warmly. “Well, we should be off, then. Good day, Mister Fraser, Toni. We’ll see you next week.”

“See ya, Miss Beauchamp! Bye-bye, Faith!” Toni waved.

“Wave goodbye, darling,” Claire said gently, and Faith waved her stuffed-horse-holding-hand.

“So long, wee Faith,” Jamie said, waving.

“Say goodbye to Mister Jamie.”

Faith waved the horse again as Claire pulled her toward the door. Pausing before opening it, Claire instead turned and offered her own little wave to Jamie before tugging on the door and leading a skipping Faith through the parking lot.

——

Holy Mother of God.

“What was that all about?” Toni said abruptly, yanking him from his thoughts.

“What’s that?”

“The helmet! We’re not supposed to give out equipment to take home like that. It’s not my place to undermine you in front of clients, but still.”

“Oh, I dinna think anyone will miss one wee helmet fer one week, Toni.” Jamie leaned his elbow on the counter, keeping his hands in his pockets. The waiting area was empty now. All the kids were riding, and Jamie’s three o’clock had yet to arrive.

“What’s next? We give trial equipment out to every kid with sensory issues? There’d be no helmets left if we did that! What makes her the exception?” Toni cocked an eyebrow at him.

“She’s special, is all.”

“They’re all special, Jamie. That’s why we do this.” Toni wasn’t buying it. “Is the kid special…? Or…her mom?”

Jamie’s every muscle tightened up. “What? The bairn, Faith, o’ course.”

“Oh. My. God!” Tony exclaimed, swatting his arm. “You have a thing for a kid’s mom!”

“Would ye keep yer voice down? D’ye want me fired?”

“So I’m wrong, then?”

“Aye. Very wrong.”

“So you don’t think she’s hot?”

“Christ, Toni, would ye shut yer gab?” He slammed a hand on the counter in panic. “Evan and his mam could walk in here any damn minute — ”

“Well do you?”

“What?”

“Think she’s hot?”

“Oh, fer — ” He sighed, exasperated, and ran a hand down his face. “She’s bonny, alright? She’s just fine.”

“Bonny…fine he says…” Toni rolled her eyes and began shuffling through papers on the desk.

“Sounds to me like ye’re the one that should be after her.”

“I have a girlfriend, James,” Toni quipped, pointedly using his full name. “You’re the one that hasn’t touched a woman in a million years.”

It was Jamie’s turn to roll his eyes, though he couldn’t suppress his smile at the woman’s cheekiness. “That’s verra kind, diggin’ at a man like that.”

“You’re just too romantic for your own good, Scotty.” She stapled a few papers together. “‘Waiting for the right one’ you always say…what exactly are you waiting for?”

For her.

Jamie shook his head. “I dinna ken, Toni. And I certainly dinna need to discuss it wi’ you.”

She threw up her hands in surrender. “Fine. Just trying to warn you. First helmet-leasing, then chasing after moms?” Toni clicked her tongue. “Best be careful, James.”

He rolled his eyes and drummed his fingers on the counter before standing up straight again. “Come get me when Evan arrives, would ye? I’ll be in the stable.”

“Sounds good.”

Hands back in his pockets, Jamie shouldered the door open and was grateful to inhale the fresh air, to clear his head.

Jesus…I’m in trouble.

It hadn’t hit him right away; it wasn’t like in the fairy tales, like some bolt of lightning that struck him from the heavens. She was bonny; anyone with eyes could see that, including himself upon first noticing her, but that wasn’t it. It wasn’t even that first touch, the standard, introductory handshake he gave every parent that came through. There were no sparks of electricity upon first contact--a thoroughly ridiculous notion.

No…it was seeing the way she swung that little girl’s hand, the way she smiled at her like she was the earth, the moon, and the stars. He could tell in one glance how much Faith meant to Claire, and even how much Claire meant to Faith.

That was when something had tightened in his chest, when he’d watched mother and daughter exchange that look. And, like a damned fool, he’d been caught staring at her.

But, he could easily brush that off. Sometimes there were just kids that were extra special for some reason, or a parent-child connection that was particularly touching. It was not at all uncommon in this chosen profession to get attached to kids.

But then…Christ…the sight of those tears in her eyes tore his guts out.

He hadn’t lied to her when he’d told her she was not the first parent to cry upon seeing their child with their horse. What he’d failed to mention was that most parents didn’t get that overcome until the child was actually on the horse.

There was something so deep and visceral about those tears. It was like watching relief spilling out after years of pent up fear and doubt. But there was something else, something darker. Something that made him feel the impulse to drop the reins and gather her in his arms and comfort her. Her, this complete stranger whose pain touched him so deeply.

But why…?

He’d seen Faith’s file, of course, the surname “Randall” all over it. Then Toni had told him in a hushed tone that they were to refer to the mom, this Claire, as Beauchamp, and not Randall. It had puzzled him, but it didn’t take long for him to surmise that perhaps there was a messy divorce. Toni had also mentioned that she was new to the area, but she hadn’t mentioned how new and from England, of all places. How messy had the assumed divorce been that she’d crossed an entire ocean with an autistic child, starting over in a completely new world?

Christ, she’s a brave wee thing.

And then his pity, his painfully-felt sympathy for her at the sight of those tears, melted into something akin to deep admiration. Indeed, she hurt, but she was strong for Faith despite that hurt. She sought out therapies, she smiled, called her “princess.” He knew all too well the level of strength that was needed to keep a child like Faith afloat, and he knew how difficult it could be to muster that strength in the face of other hardship.

Yes…he admired her. Claire.

And it didn’t at all help matters that she was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Those wisps of hair curled around her face and those eyes, like whisky and honey and amber all at once, both features mirrored in the little carbon-copy that was her daughter…and Christ, that smile, her bonny laugh, and then that wee wave she gave him right before she left…

Lord ha’ mercy…I am in deep, deep shite.

[captcas]

Worth Fighting For (11/?)

WORTH FIGHTING FOR by capthamm

Killian “Hook” Jones is a dominate up and comer in the UFC while Emma “The Savior” Swan’s career was cut short. When Hook’s manager moves up and the office brings in UFC’s youngest legend to keep him in check, will either of them be able to handle it?

read on ao3 // tumblr: ch 1/ ch 2 / ch 3 / ch 4 / ch 5 / ch 6 / ch 7 / ch 8 / ch 9 / ch 10 [Chapter 11/?] 

As fast as her smile faded, Emma’s mask slips back on and she answers for him, “Mr. Jones was unaware of this development and will not be answering any further questions.

She turns away from the reporters, each of them arguing with her decision, but Killian knows better than to question her right now. He gives them all a wink to stay “in character” and turns to follow Emma– scratch that, chase after Emma. She’s practically at a dead sprint, and he’s trying to keep up with her while simultaneously calling them a car. It’s not until she’s out of the stadium that she finally stops, taking a deep breath of fresh air and pacing. He reaches out towards her, words of worry on his tongue when she turns towards him. He drops his hand to his side. “Not here. I will explain, but not here.” He nods, unsure of how else to help excluding pulling her into his arms which he’s not entirely sure would help the situation at all. Luckily the car arrives quickly and they’re on the road without further incident.

Emma doesn’t speak for the entire ride back to the hotel.  

Or for the next forty-five minutes as they nurse seperate tumblers of rum at the dimly lit hotel bar.

Killian is desperately curious as to just who this Neal fellow is, but resists the urge to privately google him. Emma deserves to tell him why she reacted that way— who Neal is to her— if that’s what she wishes. He absent-mindedly watches the recap of the fights on SportsCenter as Emma practically chews a hole through her bottom lip pausing only to take a sip from her glass. He can’t help but stare, even visibly perplexed in horrible lighting Emma is the most radiant woman he’s ever seen. She catches him looking and meets his eye before he can shy away. Emma sighs, finishing the rest of her rum and signaling for another, before turning to Killian, “I suppose I should start at the beginning…”

He can tell she’s nervous and attempts to lighten the mood, “Aye, lass, that’s usually where all tales begin.” He winks and she cracks a small smile disrupted only by a larger sigh than the first.

“I was 18, just started training at the UFC gym on a scholarship for athletics I received in high school. It was technically supposed to go towards college but that wasn’t really my thing. It didn’t take very long for me to realize I was good… really good. Gold wanted me on Contender Series almost immediately and my career jump started before I could say ‘Ultimate Fighting’. Well, the higher ups weren’t the only ones who noticed.” Emma pauses. Killian wants to ask so many questions, but is nervous to break the very thin thread of trust they’re walking right now. He nods slightly so she knows he’s listening and she gives him a tight-lipped smile.

“He was older and already established in the league. He– he took me under his wing and showed me the ropes– media, fight nights, training, all that. Neal was my best friend…” She hesitates again and Killian uses every ounce of willpower not to grab her hand. “...and then he was more than that. We were always so careful but he had just won a huge fight and even got the Fight of the Night bonus. A little drunk– and not just on adrenaline– shit happens.” Emma hangs her head in her hands and Killian starts to put two and two together.

“Henry…” It comes out in a whisper, and entirely by accident. Emma’s eyes meet his and he expects anger but he just sees relief– he understands.

“Nothing gets past you.” She says it half joking and through the sting of rum, but he knows this is further in her story than she would usually dare to  go. “Found out I was pregnant with his kid as his career was gaining momentum and that was that. I also found out he’d been betting on my fights based off what I told him in training and winning a shitload of money. So for whichever reason— maybe a combination of both— he left, blocked my number, and I was left with a positive pregnancy test and an empty apartment. It sucked, but it wasn’t long before I decided I was better without him. I left the sport and the minute I looked into Henry’s eyes, I knew I’d never be back in that ring.”

Killian has never wanted to knock someone out more. He can feel his fist clenching and tries to stop his jaw from tightening. Killian tries to tell himself that it’s not his place to be angry over something that happened to Emma– his heart doesn’t seem to care. “You didn’t deserve that, Swan.”

Emma nods. “I know that– now. I’ve come to terms with it.”

“Pardon my forwardness, love, but if your reaction back there is any indication I’d say that’s not true.” She goes to argue and he raises his hand to continue, “Not that I would blame you. I like a right crack at the bloke…”

Emma bursts out laughing, interrupting him. “Well, it appears you’re going to get your chance, Jones. And I am over it, just… wasn’t expecting the question– or you to be fighting him.”

Killian must give a questioning look because she sighs once more, “He’s been out of the league for awhile, working behind the scenes with his dad I’d imagine…”

“I’m sorry, love, his dad?”

“Gold.” The hair on the back of his neck stands up, realizing how deep Neal Cassidy’s blood runs in the league– clearly the reason he ran.

“Ah. Well, Swan, I promise to give him hell in that octagon.” Killian tries to make a joke but Emma is clearly still weighed down by something.

“Henry doesn’t know.”

There it is.

“He knows his dad is somehow connected to all this but he doesn’t know it’s Neal.”

“Why haven’t you told him?” Killian asks the question before he can second guess himself.

“I signed a NDA when Henry was born. Neal gave up his rights and I gave up child support and the right to tell Henry who his real father was. Once he turns 18, Henry can do whatever he wants, but I can’t— and don’t want to— tell him.”

“I would very much like to meet this Neal outside of the octagon.” She doesn’t need him to protect her, but he’ll gladly kick the arse of a man as despicable as that.

“You and me both.” She ends the conversation with that statement. Ordering one more round for the two of them and turning towards the TV. Killian doesn’t pry; grateful for her trust. They chat about nothing, but Killian doesn’t miss the slight touches of her hand or the way her smile finally reaches her eyes. He can’t be sure, but it’s almost as if sharing her story took some of the weight off her shoulders; her past easier to carry on four shoulders rather than two.

Killian is more than happy to share the burden.

. . .

Emma feels lighter, maybe even happier. She never intended on sharing her story with Killian but now that it’s out in the open she feels like the wall she was so certain would remain between the two of them has crumbled. She finds herself longing for small touches and even stealing small flirtatious glances. She’d have to be an idiot not to notice that Killian was sending them right back at her.

This is uncharted territory.

As they walk back to the hotel room, both slightly tipsy, the energy is reminiscent of the night they shared their first kiss– it scares her that she doesn’t seem to mind. When Killian unlocks the door, holding it open to follow her inside, the brush of his fingers on her back feel like lightning— a quick glance over her shoulder tells her he feels it too. Killian promptly excuses himself to the bathroom and Emma uses the brief moment to try and shake it out.

She’s not sure why she thought that would work.

Killian smiles as he leaves the bathroom, grabbing two bottles of water out of the fridge and handing one to her. If her fingers linger longer than they should have, but so do Killian’s. They sit awkwardly on the edge of the bed, and Emma reaches for the remote to fill the silence that is becoming uncomfortable in its safety.

She catches her breath when Killian speaks up. “For what it’s worth, Emma, I would nev–”

“I know.” It comes out without hesitation or thought. She meets his eyes briefly before inadvertently– yet not regrettably– glancing towards his lips.

She’s shocked to find she misses them.

That’s probably why she leans in a bit… she hopes that’s why he leans in too. Emma feels his fingers entangle in her hair. Their eyes meet and he pauses– it’s up to her.

It’s always been up to her.

Their lips meet and she’s internally kicking herself for waiting so long– and for their forced proximity turning them into a trope in a shitty romance novel.

Man, is he a good kisser.  

They come up for air, Killian’s forehead never leaving hers and his thumb sending shockwaves through the nerves in her cheeks. She feels like she’s on fire in the best way imaginable– it's a new feeling, not one she even felt with Neal. It’s simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. As he softly kisses her collar bone, she’s positive they could light all of Boston with the energy between them.

She leans in more, suddenly craving as much contact with him as possible. The want is foreign, but in no way uncomfortable. With Neal intimacy was a chore– something she did with as much enthusiasm as washing the dishes, but she’s only kissed Killian twice and ever since her mind has flooded with emotions she’d only seen in movies.

She doesn’t want this feeling to end.

Before she can stop it, Killian’s backing up and she feels the loss. As he rubs his hands over his face, Emma’s heart drops.

She’s made a horrible mistake. Emma assumed she was picking up signals that she’s usually pretty blind to– apparently nothing has changed. “Killian, I–”

“Don’t get me wrong, love. I really–”

“I know, you don’t feel the same way. I shouldn’t have–”

Killian grabs her by either side of her face, leveling with her, “Swan, I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment we met… and even more so since– since last time.”

“But…” Emma knows there’s a but.

“But… I need to know that this is what you want. That you aren’t getting swept up in some moment… I can’t–”

Oh. “Killian, I don’t– I’m not– I just know I feel… something.”

“Aye, love. As do I.” His eyes turn from worry to kindness and she feels herself catch back up with the intensity of her want.

“Can that be enough for now?” It isn’t fair–to either of them– but Emma needs an out. She knows, without one, this will crash and burn before they’ve even started.

“I am quite a patient man.” She isn’t sure if that’s an agreement to the murky terms she so haphazardly laid between them and shoots him a puzzled look. He chuckles softly, “Aye, love. I’ll gladly take whatever you give.” She smiles, finding comfort in moving at her own pace (which is as unknown to her as it is him). Emma leans in again, stealing a chaste kiss from him and he smiles.

They silently agree to move towards the back of the bed, and she settles in tucked beneath Killian’s arm. He mostly comments about the show on TV, some procedural re-run he must’ve seen before. Emma listens intently, each word lighting a new spark inside of her. She’s been told love and intimacy were electric, but until recently she thought it was just an over exaggeration at best– now she’s positive it’s real. Between conversations they make-out like teenagers, but in small moments she feels Killian’s thumb brush across her hip bone or his lips gently kiss her temple and she’s never felt so alive.

When morning comes, Emma finds herself in a similar position to the one she fell asleep in, Killian’s strong arms wrapped around her in a hug like none she’s ever felt before. She feels his breath move steadily against the back of her head and finds peace in his rhythmic nature. It’s probably that which allows her to slip back into sleep for another hour only waking when she feels Killian do so beside her. With a kiss to her shoulder, he promises coffee and gets up to retrieve it.

The bed is cold without him in it.

She can’t possibly be used to that already, can she? Before she has time to contemplate what that really means, she gets up to shower. Killian is back with coffee and donuts by the time she emerges from the bathroom. They’ve not said two words about last night, but Emma kisses him all the same as he hands her the hot cup. He seems surprised at first, most likely expecting her to backtrack on all they’d discussed the previous night, and Emma doesn’t blame him. That kiss is all it took for Killian to brighten up. The entire morning happy and chipper, even as they drive home and get stuck in traffic.

Emma likes having that effect on him.

Emma likes him.

As Killian pulls up to her apartment, Emma is so engaged in heated debate over hard shell vs. soft shell tacos that she doesn’t realize the time. This car ride goes much quicker than the one to the hotel, their conversation flowing easily– so much so she even forgets about Neal. They exit the car, “Killian it is impossible to eat tacos in a hard shell. They practically become nach–”

“MOOOOOOM!”

Emma freezes, the reality of her situation hitting her like a train going full speed.

Emma snaps out of it at the feeling of his head hitting her smack in the stomach. “Hi kid! I missed you!” Emma kisses the top of his head before he pulls back.

She can tell the moment he sees Killian.

“Oh my god. Mom?! That’s Hook!” She hears Killian chuckle and she can’t help the ping of happiness she feels in her gut.

“Aye, lad. In the flesh.” Killian mock bows for Henry and she’s not sure she’s ever seen a smile so wide– on either of them. “You must be Henry?”

She was wrong; that is the widest smile she’s ever seen out of her son. The fear she felt has completely dissipated as she watches Killian interact with Henry. They hit it off immediately, Henry asking at least one hundred questions about the UFC and Killian answering each fully and genuinely. Her stomach flips.

Emma’s so enamored with the scene in front of her that she almost forgets Mary Margaret had to have dropped him off. Emma practically jumps when she appears at her side. “Wow, he’s good with him.”

“Stop.”

Mary Margaret smiles, Emma’s shut down most likely a clear indicator of what’s happening between her and Killian. “Just saying.”

“Thanks for watching him. I owe you a million.”

Ms smiles brightly. “Anytime.” The hidden meaning is not lost on Emma, but she’s not about to humor any of her friend’s shenanigans – at least not yet. “Bye Henry... Hook.” The boys wave and Emma swears her heart doesn’t do another belly flop.

She never meant for Killian to meet Henry this soon, but she also never meant for Killian to happen at all. It’s weird how her life has a tendency to chew her up and spit her out in exactly the spot she needs to be. When she looks at the way he is with her son, and catches Killian’s slight glance towards her– smile bright and full– she’s startled to find she can’t imagine a scenario where this isn’t exactly where he’s meant to be, too.

[imagining-supernatural]

The Backstory

Part 15 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: You and Sebastian sit down and you finally tell him about your past

Word Count: 1,757

HGTV was playing in the background, but neither you nor Seb were paying attention. You were curled together in the recliner with a heavy blanket over your legs. He still had a few hours before he had to head out to his interview with Jimmy Fallon, so this was the best time to tell him about your past. Enough time that he could process everything and not be too burdened during his interview, but not enough time that the two of you would drag out every damn detail. There were parts that you wouldn’t tell him, but most of it, you wanted him to know.

You just had to figure out how to start.

“You grew up in Wyoming, right?” He prompted, as if sensing that you were stuck before you had even begun.

“Yeah.” You sighed heavily, shoring up your courage. “It was just me, my sister, and my parents. If I have any cousins or aunts, I don’t know about them. My, uh, my dad was… you know what? I’m just gonna say everything really quick to get it all out there. I think that’ll be easier.”

He nodded, rubbing his hand along your spine. You tucked your head into his neck, hoping that the lack of eye contact would make it even easier.

“Alright. Ever since I can remember, my dad has been an alcoholic. Abusive too, but I didn’t realize until later. He took out most of it on my mom and sister, since she was older. But then, uh, my sister, Eliza, moved out when she turned sixteen and it was just me and my mom.”

“How old were you?” he asked in a pained whisper.

“Eight. She’s eight years older than me. He died when our house caught fire when I was sixteen. Cigarette left burning. His fault.” Your voice broke on the last two words, but you powered through. “Luckily mom was in lockup for the night for drunk and disorderly or something and I was staying with Jaz. That was… it’s fucked up to say, but that was the best day of my life.”

His hand moved up your back and settled on the back of your head, holding you closer. That simple action drew a wave of tears to your eyes that had you blinking quickly, trying to hold them back. God, you didn’t deserve him.

Remembering the truth of that day… you really didn’t deserve him.

“Um, so that left me and my mom. She… She was an alcoholic too, but more of a neglectful alcoholic. Thank god for Jasmin and her family. I don’t know what I would have done without them. They kept me alive and sane until I was old enough to get a job and basically support myself a few months after my dad died. I thought it was over, then. Up until then, my family was just that trash family that other people in town gossiped about to feel better about themselves. I got some pitying looks, and that was it.

“Then my sister went and got arrested. Everyone expected me to take in her two sons when she was convicted and sentenced to life in prison.”

“What did she do?”

A bitter laugh escaped your throat. “Fucking murdered her boyfriend. Abused her kids. Assaulted a police officer. She… she didn’t have a friend like Jaz. Or a support system like Jaz’s family. But that’s still no excuse. None at all. They’re her kids. She knew what it was like to grow up being a punching bag. She…” In an effort to control your budding anger, you took a deep breath and turned your face into Seb’s neck for a second, letting his familiar scent calm you.

“So when she was sentenced to twenty-five to life, the entire town assumed I would adopt the kids. I mean, they were my nephews and all, but everyone was acting like it was my responsibility to raise them. But… But I was barely eighteen. I couldn’t even take care of myself and I didn’t want to put them in a position where I—where I might snap like she did. It wasn’t fair to them. And they were young enough that they were adopted fairly quickly and now they’re with some family down in Georgia growing up with cute little Southern accents. Their parents send me letters sometimes. Pictures too. The boys are happy. And I know I made the right decision, but if you listen to what everyone else said, then you’d start thinking I was a selfish bitch who didn’t respect family values as if they’d all forgotten the kind of values my family taught me. I-I-I know I made the right choice. They’re happy. So fuck what everyone else thought.”

“People make far too many judgments based on far too few facts,” Sebastian whispered against your hair.

“And far too many assumptions,” you mumbled.

He held you in silence for a few minutes, just stroking your hair.

“You know what the worst thing someone said to me was?” You asked a bit later, after your heartbeat had calmed down from its angry beating. “When word got out that I had cancer, someone from my hometown told me that God gave me cancer as punishment for not adopting my nephews. For thinking someone else could raise them better than their own blood. Years later and they still couldn’t let it go.”

Not that they were entirely wrong. Your cancer might have been punishment from God, but not because you didn’t adopt your nephews. There were far worse things you’d done.

“That’s—” He couldn’t even find a word to describe how that made him felt. And you completely understood.

“Rude? Horribly offensive? Fucking ignorant? Welcome to small town Wyoming where the bible rules and if you say you’ve never shot a gun you’ll be shunned until you do.”

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetie, that’s… God that’s horrible.”

“People suck,” you said simply. “I just… I wanted you to know. You know, in case this shit hits the news or whatever. And also… Also, I just wanted you to know. I wanted to tell you. Regardless.”

He slid his hand to your chin and tilted your head up until you were falling into his blue eyes. “Thank you, Y/N. Thank for telling me; trusting me.”

“Thank you for being someone who doesn’t suck,” you responded in a weak effort to lighten the mood.

You only had a second to register his soft smile before he leaned forward and brushed his lips against your cheek. “I always knew you were strong. I mean, to go through cancer treatment like this… but now?” His thumb rubbed against your cheek, nearly touching your lips. Your eyes closed at his touch, face leaning into his palm. “Sweetheart, I think you’re the strongest person I think I’ve ever met.”

Just as you were about to argue his statement, he leaned forward again. This time his lips brushed just at the corner of your mouth and lingered, wiping away every single word you’d ever known. He finally pulled away a hairsbreadth and the air between you two was super-charged. All it would take was a tilt of your head and you’d be kissing him properly.

But you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t.

After a moment more, he drew back, pausing only to press his lips to your forehead briefly. “So, your sister and mom are still alive?”

“No.” Your voice was surprisingly strong. Barely wavering. “My sister’s still in prison, but my mom died a few months after I turned sixteen. Another reason the town seems to hate me. They think if I’d stuck around more, she wouldn’t have killed herself but that wasn’t my job. I was a kid. It wasn’t my job to keep my parent alive.”

“Killed herself?”

“Drunk herself to death, I guess.” It was an explanation you’d said many times before. One that wasn’t entirely accurate, but the closest to the truth you could get. “Suicide wasn’t the official cause of death, but I knew. She drunk too much. I think she was shooting up with something, too. They called it an accidental overdose. Said if I’d been there, I might have been able to call 911 and save her. But they didn’t know us. They didn’t know what happened in that house. I… I don’t blame her. She didn’t want to be saved. She let him break her. My sister became him.”

“And you? What do you think you did?”

“I think… I think… I don’t know. I made a lot of bad decisions in college, but that’s just college. I think I would have turned out differently if I hadn’t spent so much time with Jaz’s family. But even then… I don’t know, Seb. I just know that I never wanted to make anyone feel like I did. It took me my entire college career with campus therapists to work through shit. And there’s some things I haven’t told anyone. And I’m going to be working through everything for the rest of my life. I know that. I think I just became more aware. Aware what kind of affect my words might have on someone else. I’m cautious about everything. Maybe that’s why I went into data security. I didn’t have anyone, really, to protect me.” By this point you’d practically forgotten you weren’t alone. You were just musing aloud. Putting together parts of your therapy sessions with your own emotions.

It was something you’d never done.

Even in therapy, you hadn’t opened up all the way.

But here? With someone you’d met a month ago?

Here, you felt safe. Loved, even.

“What about Jasmin?”

“She tried. But her family was amazing. She just couldn’t understand my family. She was always sympathetic, but never really knew how to help. And, honestly, I wouldn’t ever want her to know how to help. I never want her to be in the position to understand.”

“I guess I get that.”

“’Sides, this way I had her to pull me out. She pushed me to move on. Helped me figure out how to… not become them.”

Silence, once again, fell. Even telling the barest bones of your past had exhausted you and you couldn’t move from Seb’s lap even if you wanted to.

It was nearly a half hour later when he spoke in a soft voice, his words drawing a soft laugh from you. “At least I don’t have to go through the meet the parents shtick.”

Think that’s all of it? The worst of it? 

CHAPTER 16: THE FIRST PAPARAZZI AMBUSH

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter Ten

Title: Past, Present, Future

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @tragiclyhip​

It’s been a productive morning. Breakfast had turned into an enormous affair; seemingly endless supplies of pancakes, french toast and eggs and bacon being shared amongst the ten people gathered. Although much more reserved and quiet than Millie, Alannah had held her own in the midst of the chaos and chatter; the only child initially nervous and withdrawn but quickly and seemingly getting accustomed to the level of noise and activity that comes with so many children in one house. She’s a lovely little girl. Smart and witty; always offering to help out with food prep and dishes whenever she’s over for a meal, full of compliments in regards to food and decor and possessing remarkable manners and social graces for someone so close to their teenage years. In a way she reminds Esme of the younger version of herself; shunned by her own family and desperately searching for people that will both accept and love her. Perhaps that’s why she’d been so willing and eager to bring the eleven year old into the fold; remembering what it was like to be surrounded by family yet feel so alone at the same time. It’s a horrible feeling; knowing that you’re not what your mother -or both parents in Alannah’s case- wanted and never allowed to forget it. It’s isolating and soul destroying. Causing problems that deeply imbed themselves in your psyche; battling with the destruction and never still weeping and sore wounds that hang around even as a an adult. She hadn't been as fortunate as Alannah; no one else that had been willing to embrace her as ‘one of their own’ and give her what she had so desperately needed AND wanted. And there’d be no way she’d wanted another kid going through that same thing; feeling alienated and lost as a kid and then having your adult years just as messed up and troubled.

So many bad decisions could be directly blamed on the behaviour she had witnessed growing up. Able to make friends yet unable to form real bonds with them. Growing tired of romantic partners; annoyed by the sounds of their voices and agitated by the touch of their hands and winding up feeling physically ill at the thought of them even touching her in an intimate way. The idea of being that close to someone had always turned her off instead of the opposite; a handful of brief and non intimate relationships throughout her entire high school career before trying her hand at the ‘real deal’ in college. Even then it had been too much work; long battles with her own brain and her own hang ups before she would even let her first REAL boyfriend get anywhere past second base. And she’d gotten married solely because she’d been convinced that Mark could be the one to get her past her issues; she’d learn how to tolerate someone being around all the time and she’d learn how to be a normally functioning adult when it came to having a serious and long term relationship with someone. That had been a disaster; confusing being in love with exactly just settling for someone and convincing yourself that you couldn’t possibly do better, so why even try? And even though she hadn’t loved him, she’d still desperately held on even when he became abusive and turned her life into a living hell. Suddenly afraid to be alone and terrified that his words were true: no one else would ever want her. That she was damaged and crazy and no one in their right mind would ever put up with THAT. And he’d constantly remind her that she couldn’t do better. That she should count her lucky stars that he even stuck around in the first place. No other man would, after all.

“That’s how much I love you, Esme. I put up with you. No other guy would. But I do. Because I love you THAT much.”

It’s weird how things evolve. Or don’t, for that matter. How your past has such an impact on your future. Fifteen years after Mark and she still struggles; moments of extremely low self esteem, lingering mental health problems, an unhealthy and twisted relationship with her own family, a constant worry that -despite being relatively healthy and somehow surviving the most horrible and terrifying of moments- her marriage is only two seconds away from imploding. The latter is irrational and she knows that. Despite Mark’s words, she had managed to find someone that loves her -truly and wholly loves her- despite all of her issues. Who sees past her messiness and busts his ass to help her finally move on and heal from her past. Who looks at her like she’s the most amazing and beautiful woman in the world; who would remind her of that until his very last breath and who -regardless how much it DOES annoy him- always tries to reassure her that things are just fine. He doesn’t care about the other women that check him out or show him attention or even the balls to try and get close. Always finding ways to assure her that he only has eyes for her; a man of few words that never shies away from pledging his unwavering love and faithfulness. No matter how many times she needs to hear it.

Her mother. She’s the one to truly blame for how fucked up her brain is. That lack of maternal instincts and the pure hatred she’d often shown. She had never let Esme forget that she was a mistake; a ‘change of life’ baby that never should have happened in the first place. On the worst of days, she’d often say that she’d wished she’d never even had her. That she should have ignored Esme’s father’s begging and pleadings to keep the baby. They hadn’t needed another mouth to feed; five boys was more than enough and another kid only caused financial strain and emotional strife. Her mother had always refused to acknowledge her own issues that had caused so many problems; her constant cheating, her lack of maternal instincts, her own biases when it came to her children. Even decades later she refuses to accept any responsibility; laughing off any mention of parental neglect or favouritism and shunning any and all suggestion that she was -and still is- emotionally abusive and an expert at psychological warfare.

While there’s no proof that those exact same things exist in Alannah’s home, Esme does hang onto an old adage passed down by Doctor Klein: “if things are that bad out in the open, they’re even worse behind closed doors.” If Alannah’s parents are so ‘out there’ with their distaste for each other and with their roles as parents, things are probably much darker and direr at home. And if she can give the kid a glimpse of a somewhat normal family and the experience of having siblings and people around her that do value her and appreciate her and show her attention and affection, it’s the least she can do. It’s too late to mend her own issues and it’s not possible to go back and time to change things, but she CAN alter Alannah’s present AND future.

Desi arrived at ten. Quite the baker and chef himself, he had offered to help Tanner in his culinary pursuits; bringing over his most expensive pots, pans and baking sheets and a stash of both exotic and common ingredients for the ten year old to experiment with. And with Millie the only other child left in the house, it had given her the opportunity for a little ‘me time’; the rest of the kids having gone with their father to assist in his pursuit for last minute Christmas gifts and the items she’d jotted down a list prepared right before he stepped out the front door. Some time in the gym had done her a world of good. Forty five minutes on both the treadmill and the rowing machine, followed by some time with the weights and working up a sweat punching and kicking at the heavy bag; the latter successfully enabling her to shed the anger and bitterness towards Mark, her own mother, and Alannah’s parents.

While she isn’t quite nearly as devoted and motivated as her husband is -often working out twice a day, two to three hours at a time- when it comes to fitness, she find it DOES help; getting her heart rate up and her adrenaline flowing a rather successful combination when it comes to her battle with her mental health woes and her ongoing battle with her self esteem. The latter becoming worse with the arrival of the last set of twins and her inability to shed the remaining twenty pounds -out of forty five- that she’d gained while pregnant with them. She’s nowhere near who and what she’d been before she’d begun having children; missing how skinny yet fit she’d been and how every piece of clothing she’d owned or tried on had seemed to fit so perfectly.

Tyler always rolls his eyes when she brings it up.Quick to remind her that a lot has changed since they first met; he doesn’t expect her to be the same person, in the same way she doesn’t expect him to be either. And that’s a good thing, he’d point out, and then thoroughly list all the ways they’ve both evolved for the better. He’d get that mischievous glitter to his eyes and he’d give that cheeky grin and he’d talk about how much he enjoys her body now; all that ‘extra cushioning’ in all the right places. And then he’d kiss her and embrace her as tight as her body would allow him to and everything would seem right and perfect in the world once again. Those big, strong arms never failing to make her feel safe and protected. In a way no one else has ever been able to.

******

After a long bubble bath- complete with scented candles and a glass of wine- she finally heads downstairs; braiding her still damp hair and securing it with an elastic and letting it dangle over the front of her shoulder. Desi is in the living room; surrounded by plastic tote boxes filled to the brim with various Christmas ornaments that he’s in the middle of organizing. The tree had arrived earlier and now sits in its stand in front of the living room window; seven feet tall and wide and full and filling the house with the fresh and unmistakable scent of pine. The kids are already excited to decorate. Even the normally quick to bore Millie looking forward to what has turned into quite the year event; Chinese take out and hot chocolate stirred with candy canes and the fireplace on while Christmas carols play on the stereo. It’s just a little ‘something’; a simple and silly little tradition that they’d adopted when they’d first moved back to Australia and have been indulging in ever since. There’s been many more adopted; both trying to give their kids the experiences they never had growing up.

“Thought maybe you fell asleep,” Desi says in a way of greeting. “Not that I’d blame you. Isn’t often you get time away from all the kiddos.”

“As nice as a nap sounds, the bath hit the spot. I may or may not have refilled the tub with hot water three times. Just to drag it out a bit. You’ve been busy. You don’t have to organize and clean my house every time you come over. I’m more than happy just to spend time with YOU.”

“A little help here and there is a good thing. Little T was helping me go through things and make them a little easier for you to find. We’ve got shortbread and sugar cookies in one oven, brownies and squares in the other. He’s in his glory that kid. Quite the little baker, ain’t he? He’s got skills. A mighty keen palate.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me at all if he becomes rich and famous for his cooking and baking one day. He’s a talent. In many ways.”

“He’s a good kid. A damn good kid. Reminds me of you in a lot of ways. Got quite a bit of momma in him. And he sure thinks the world of her, too.”

“He’s always been close to me. Since we lived in Colorado. He became quite the momma’s boy when things…” her voice trails off and she reaches into one of the boxes and pulls out a strand of rose gold garland. “...when things weren’t so good between Tyler and I.”

“That bad?”

“Bad enough. We split up. For six months.”

“No shit?”

“No shit. He went through some things. That were totally out of his control. And he made some decisions that weren’t the best. I had to kick him out.”

“You kicked him out? You? As madly and crazily in love as you are?”

“I did. He got back into the booze and the pain meds and he became a totally different person and I didn’t want that around the kids. So I told him to go. That once he got his shit together and could put us before his issues and his job, he could come back. Took him half a year, but…” she shrugs and tosses the garland onto the couch. “...it all worked out in the end. We got back together and we fought like hell to make things work. And here we are. Twelve years into things. And a hell of a lot better and stronger than we’ve ever been. He’s changed. We both have. We’ve come a long way.”

“And Little T?”

“He picked sides. He was three years old. Just a baby still. But he’d seen and heard enough and it affected him way more than it did TJ and Millie. He was scared of his dad. For a long time. Not that Tyler ever did anything to scare him; he never yelled at the kids or hit them or did anything to frighten them. We fought. A lot. And those fights got pretty bad. A lot of yelling and a lot of really horrible things said to each other. Things we can’t take back, unfortunately.”

“But you got past all that. Obviously.”

“We did. I mean, we didn’t MEAN the things we said. They were said out of anger and hurt; none of it was ever intentional. But that sticks with you, you know? You didn’t mean what you said and you hate yourself for saying any of it, but you still did it. And you can’t go back and erase it. Those words existed. Sadly.”

“You can’t dwell on it, Big E. You just can’t. Y’all got past it, am I right? You got back together, you said yourself you’re better and stronger than ever. And I highly doubt he holds all that against you; shit that happened years ago.”

“I know he doesn’t. But I also know he holds it against himself.”

“Well, that’s the bipolar part of things. Keeps the bad shit in his head and reminds him of it during the down moments. He’s doing okay with that? All that shit in his head?”

“He is. He’s been remarkably...well..for someone with the diagnosis he has. I’m proud of him. For handling things like he has. He just copes with it all. Way better than I thought he would. It’s been five years and there’s been no real issues. He takes his meds and he goes to therapy and he manages it all well. I’m proud of him. So proud. He’s done really well. He’s a tough shit, that’s for sure. Probably the toughest person I’ve ever known.”

“You mean when you’re NOT looking in the mirror?”

Esme laughs. “I am not THAT tough. I put on a good front.”

“You’re a tough cookie for a tiny little thing. All the things you’ve told me? That you’ve been through over the past twelve and a bit years? You shouldn’t underestimate yourself like you do.”

“It’s been...interesting...to say the least.”

It isn’t something she speaks so openly and honestly about; how she and Tyler met and everything that had happened in Dhaka and the decisions she’d made on the Sultana Kamal Bridge. It isn’t exactly a topic you’re comfortable discussing with just anyone; your husband being a mercenary and a former alcoholic and painkiller addict with mental health issues. But Desi is trustworthy; kind and compassionate with a heart even bigger than his already enormous body. And it helps to have a confidant; someone to spill even your deepest and darkest secrets to without the worry of being judged.

“I found these,” Desi snags a shoebox off the coffee table and opens the lid as he presents it to her. “Look homemade.”

She peels back the layer of tissue paper and smiles at the contents revealed. “Salt dough ornaments. I remember making them with Millie. We were still in Telluride. Our third Christmas there. I hadn’t even gotten pregnant with Declan yet. God, that seems like a long time ago.”

“There’s four there, though. If you hadn’t had Declan yet, there’d only be three, would there not?”

“That’s not Declan’s.” She carefully plucks out the fourth ornament in question; gingerly turning it over in her palm as she inspects it. The same size and shape as the others, but with the added ‘extra’ of a halo that a then three year old Millie had decorated with gold glitter. It had been her idea; an ornament for the brother that she’d never get to meet but insisted was still very much part of their family. “That’s Austin’s.”

“Austin? Who is Austin? You have another kid I don’t know about? A baby you lost or…”

“Austin wasn’t mine. He was Tyler’s son. From his first marriage.”

“Excuse me….what?”

“He was married. Before me. In the same way I was married before him.”

“You never told me about that. You being the second Missus Rake.”

“There was never really a reason to talk about it. She was his high school sweetheart. They got married pretty much right after graduation. Then he joined the military. Austin arrived a little while later. When he was twenty five.”

“What happened between them? Things went bad or…?”

“It wasn’t the healthiest of marriages. They were young. Probably rushed into things. He was gone a lot and she wasn’t happy being an army wife.”

“And the kid? Does he see him? Do they live in Australia too or…?”

“Austin died.” She finds herself both fighting back a flood of threatening tears and speaking around a lump of emotion sitting square in her throat. “When he was six. Long before I ever knew Tyler.”

“I’m sorry,” Desi lays a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if…”

“It’s okay. It’s good to talk about it. About HIM. We’ve never hidden it from the kids. We’ve always been open and honest about things. Our past lives, the fact we were both married before, how they’d have another sibling if things had gone differently. There’s never been a reason NOT to tell about those things. It’s all part of who we are. All plays a role in how we got to where we are now. In one way or another.”

“Was he sick? Was there an accident or….?”

“He had lymphoma. It was very aggressive and pretty far along when the doctors finally caught it. The kid didn’t stand a chance. He didn’t last long. Even with chemo and radiation. It was bad. Very, very bad. Just a horrible thing for a kid to go through.”

“And for his folks to see.”

“It was a really bad time. For them. As a family. And Tyler…” she swipes at the tears that manage to escape. “...he was never the same after that. It really did a number on him. I know he seems all big and bad and fearless and intimidating but he’s got such a huge heart. He loves big and he loves deep. You see how he is; with the kids.”

“Definitely loves being a daddy. And they definitely love him.”

“He’s an amazing dad. I couldn’t have asked or wished for a better father for my children. And in a way, losing Austin made him the dad that he is. It was rough. On him. It still is.”

“It’s a hell of a thing. Losing a kid. Can’t imagine what it’s like seeing your own flesh and blood suffer like that. It was bad enough for me; seeing my husband go through what he did. I can’t imagine watching a kid go through that.”

“I often wonder what would happen if one of the kids got sick. If he could even handle it. I mean, once is enough. Imagine having to deal with that AGAIN? And I hate that my brain even goes there. That I immediately think of something like that. He’s tough and he’s strong and he’s resilient. But I don’t think he could handle that. If anything happened to one of the kids or me…”

“He’d deal with it. It’s what we do. When we love someone. But you need to get out of your head, Big E. I mean, it’s beautiful nine times out of ten. But that last remaining bit…”

“It’s a mess. I’m the first to admit that. I can’t believe I’m this emotional over this. It’s a Christmas ornament, for crying out loud.”

“It’s what it represents. It’s your husband’s pain. So it’s your pain too.”

“For years we never even put the ornament on the tree. Tyler couldn’t handle seeing it. So I just put it away. Until he was ready for it to be out. And then one year, he did it himself; got it out of the box and hung it on the tree and that was that. We’ve been putting it up since.”

“Is that why their marriage broke up? The kid getting sick?”

“There were other problems. It wasn’t a good marriage. For many reasons.” She lays the ornament back in the box and carefully covers it with the layer of tissue paper. “But I guess in the end, it worked out okay. For me anyway. We wouldn’t have met. Had things NOT fallen apart. I can’t say I wish I could go back and change things. Because if I could do it…”

“Change one thing, change everything. The butterfly effect.”

“Whatever you do, do not bring that up to Tyler. Not the butterfly effect itself. The movie. Don’t talk about Ashton Kutcher to him. He’s got this deep rooted and unexplainable hate for him.”

“I feel the same way about Justin Timberlake. You know what I call him? Just to be an asshole? Justin Tenderbottom.”

Esme laughs at that, then sets the shoebox down on the cluttered coffee table and allows herself to be pulled into a tight hug; one of Desi’s enormous hands on the back of her head and his arm curled around her waist. She rests her forehead against his chest; the tears coming easily and effortlessly now. It’s a hurt she’s never been quite able to explain; a painful and long lasting mourning for a child that she never knew.

“You’re a good little wife, Big E. I know for a fact that he thinks the sun rises and sets on you. That you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“He said that?” Esme sniffles noisily and looks up at her friend. “He admitted that to you?”

“He did. And he’s said a lot about you. All good things, too. You are definitely the center of his entire universe. And you know what? It’s a horrible thing that happened. To his son. To him. But if it hadn’t? Well you wouldn’t have what you have now. Those seven kids you got? None of them would exist. And if you ask me? This world is a better place because they do.”

“Mum!” Tanner calls, as he slowly makes his way from the kitchen; oven mitts on his hands as he carefully carries a mug of tea. “I made you a drink! I knew you’d want one. You always have tea right after a bath.”

Smiling, she pulls away from Desi and uses the bottom of her t-shirt to wipe away the tears that stain her cheeks. “You know me very well, sweet boy. You didn’t use the stove though, did you? To boil the water? You know you’re not supposed to do that if there isn’t an adult with you.”

“I used the coffee maker. Daddy showed me how. I know what I’m doing. And it’s safe. I can’t hurt myself. Three milk and no sugar,” he presents her with the mug, a proud smile plastered from ear to ear. “Just like you like it.”

“It’s perfect,” she says, and takes his face in her hands and presses a kiss to the top of his head. “And so are you. The most perfect and precious Nugget EVER.”

****

Two hours later she finds herself lounging in the sunroom; legs stretched out and socked feet against the window, laptop opened and resting on her thighs. It’s a double helping of work; two businesses to keep running smoothly even when thousands of miles away. Scheduling and payroll and Christmas bonuses to take care of for the bookshop employees, emails from potential clients needing fast and efficient ‘solutions’ to serious problems in areas all over the world. Word travels in the mercenary life; a rather tight knit yet extremely competitive circle that moves fast. People with money want the best; someone that chooses a life of relative secrecy yet possesses an astounding and well respected reputation. The list of ‘regulars’ is long and plentiful, and each brings more people into the game; word of mouth making or breaking a company such as theirs. There’s never a lack of work; over forty guys -some with years of experience that had bailed from competitors- employed and constantly climbing. But Christmas is the one holiday where they DO take a break; referring anyone that needs a job done to Anil. He doesn’t take his role of a husband and a father as seriously; dedicated to his work and refusing to let anyone -even his own wife and children- get in the way.. He’s a good man and treats Nik and the girls well; providing for them and protecting them and making sure they never go without. But his loyalties remain with his business, and he is never shy when it comes to admitting or defending it.

She forwards him the emails and then focuses her attention on the bookstore; balancing the books and checking the profits and sending out payroll and bonuses. It’s been a quiet end to the morning; Milie and Alannah upstairs in her bedroom playing on the computer and watching movies, Tanner and Desi finishing their first round of baking and using their break to head outside to play in the snow. She watches them now; Desi’s big body lumbering around the yard as he chases Tanner, who occasionally allows himself to be scooped up and tossed into the nearest snow pile. That high pitched and giggle makes her smile; picturing Tanner’s enormous smile that crinkles the bridge of his nose and the corners of those brilliant blue eyes. He doesn’t form bonds easily; leery of new people and finding it difficult to make friends. But he’d taken easily to Desi. Once saying that it was the man’s deep yet soothing voice that won him over. Along with a gentle smile and warm brown eyes that let Tanner know that their neighbour was a good person with a good heart.

The doorbell sounds just as she finishes and sends off the store’s schedule for January. The melodic chime setting off a flurry of activity and noises; both dogs -stirred for their naps in front of the front room fireplace- now barking in unison, paws sliding across hardwood flooring as they scramble for the door. It’s soon followed by Millie’s footsteps; seeming unusually thunderous and heavy as they rush down the stairs. Accompanied by that thick Aussie accent she’s adopted within the last five years; yelling at Saju and Mac to lie down and shut up and behave or she’ll throw them out in the snow. It’s hardly a threat; both preferring the sun and the sand and their romps in the ocean, but quite accustomed to the cold weather and snow beneath their feet.

“Mum!” Millie bellows in an effort to be heard over the continued barking. “Some lady’s at the door! She wants to see dad!”

“He’s not home!”

“I know that! But she wants to talk to someone! And I don’t want it to be me!”

Smirking, she snaps the lid closed on the laptop and sets it on the coffee table; grimacing at the tightness in her lower back as she gets to her feet. The pain and discomfort is new over the course of the last five years; a small mistake made during the epidural while in labour with the twins resulting in long term damage. It sucks; your body betraying you when you’ve been so selfless and willing to keep other human beings alive inside of you. Pulling the sides of her cardigan sweater tighter around her body, she crosses her arms over her chest as she heads for the front of the house; soles of her UGG slippers lightly squeaking against the wood flooring. They’d been yet another one of her husband’s surprise gifts; a neatly wrapped package accompanied by a bouquet of Australian wildflowers that had shown up a day after he’d left for Cambodia. He’s become a master at it; showering both her and the kids with both simple and elaborate gifts. Claiming that it makes him happy to do it; spending his own childhood going without while his father used their money for booze. And it’s a way of making up for all his past mistakes as well; doing whatever he can to be a good husband and father and erase the mistakes of the past that continue to haunt him.

The woman at the door is tall and blond; clad in a disgustingly expensive leather coat with fur trim, the ends of her wavy platinum hair tumbling out from under the edge of a burgundy wool beret that perfectly matches her heavily painted lips. The smile she gives is phony; the look of dismay and disgust readily apparent as her eyes take in Esme’s more casual and relaxed look. It isn’t the first time she’s seen a look like THAT; the housewives on the school yard and at the soccer park have long perfected it, along with their snide comments about how ‘boring and plain Jane’ she is and how they can’t fathom how someone like Tyler could stand being with someone like her.

“She’s here to see dad,” Millie says. “I said he wasn’t home, but…”

“It’s okay,” Esme assures her, then nods down at the curious and rambunctious dogs now gathered at her feet. “Can you put these guys outside? Before they give me a migraine?”

Nodding, Millie slaps her hand against her thigh; a well used sign that dogs have learned means they should follow her. And they happily cooperate; their tails wagging energetically and their bodies pressed against the eleven year old’s legs as she leads the way through the house.

“She’s very…charming.”

Esme glances up at the woman standing in front of her, and manages a polite yet terse smile of her own. “Well, what can I say? She’s her father’s daughter. Can I help you?”

“You must be Emily.”

“Esme. My name is Esme. Not Emily.”

“That’s a very unusual name. A little...odd...in this day and age.”

“It’s actually quite common. Very old and classic. I was named after my great, great grandmother. And she was born in the eighteen hundreds, so…”

“I’m Natalie.” She doesn’t bother to offer a hand, electing instead to keep a firm hold on the plastic container she tightly clutches.

“That’s very plain. Natalie. Kind of boring. Guess you didn’t have any unusual and odd relatives to be named after.”

The corners of the woman’s turn up in a slight smirk.

“Can I help you? Is there a reason you’re here? Asking for my husband?”

“I’m here to see Tyler.”

“And our daughter told you he isn’t home. Which wasn’t an invite to stick around. I’m sure whatever you want to talk to him about, can wait until he IS here. Or, I could just give him a message and then he can decide whether he wants to talk to you or not. I wouldn’t hold your breath; he isn’t the chattiest person on the block. Why ARE you here? Is there something I can help you with or…?”

“I was hoping to speak to him.”

“And for the third time, you’re being told he’s not home. So sorry, Tyler can’t come out to play right now. And unless there’s something you want to say to me….”

“We met yesterday. He was at the park. With your son. The handicapped one.”

Once more crossing her arms over her chest, she cocks her head to the side. “Excuse me?”

“Your son. With the problems. Travis, Thomas….”

“His name is Tanner. And he doesn’t have ‘problems’. He has Autism. Don’t talk about my son like that. You can come here calling on my husband all you want, but when you bring my kid into this…”

“We had a nice little chat. At the park. We just moved here. My daughter and I. It’s been hard meeting people.”

Esme smirks. “I can’t possibly imagine why.”

“He was very friendly. Welcoming. Tyler. Not Tanner. Just to be clear.”

“And…”

“And I just wanted to thank him for that. For being so nice. For making us feel like part of the neighbourhood.”

“Well I’ll be sure to tell him that. I’m sure he’ll appreciate hearing it. Is that everything or….?”

“These are for him.” Natalie offers the plastic container. “I made them myself. They’re award winning. Used to get lots of compliments on those.”

“Oh how nice. You’re offering him your cookie. I mean, cookies. That’s very sweet. I will let him know that you stopped by with your generous offer. But just so you know, he doesn’t accept...goodies...from other women. So if you’re thinking about offering him any in the future, you might want to stop while you’re ahead. I’m sure there’s other married men out there who would gladly accept. But my husband? You’re pissing in the wrong front yard.”

Natalie’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just making it clear that he doesn’t accept goodies from other women. Ever. And he never will. So if you’ve got something brewing up in that head of yours, you might want to put an end to it now. He’s not interested. And believe me, I think you’d rather hear that from me. He won’t let you down as politely and easily.”

“I don’t know what you think I’m up to, but…”

“This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve come across plenty of women like you. And I’m just cutting to the chase. He’s not interested. Find someone else. Go after someone else’s husband. Stay away from mine.”

“I’m not after your husband. I’m just here doing something neighbourly and…”

“If it WAS something neighbourly, you would have come here to introduce yourself to ALL of us. Not just ask for him. I have to admit though, that’s pretty ballsy; showing up like this and having the nerve to talk to the wife. Most would have just left once they found out the husband wasn’t home. I’ll hand it to you; you’ve got some nerve.”

“I’m just here to be friendly. That’s it. No ulterior motive. You know, I was surprised to hear you have SEVEN kids. When I saw you the other day out in the snow with them, I thought there was no way they could all be yours. You just seemed so fresh faced and young. No way did you look like someone with THAT many children. But now up close? Well, let’s just say I’d look tired and downtrodden too if I got pregnant that many times.”

“My husband prefers the fresh faced and natural look. You know, as opposed to looking like Sephora threw up on your face. He also prefers brunettes. So that’s two strikes against you. Is there anything else? Other than your cookie. Sorry,” Esme laughs. “I did it again. I meant ‘cookies’. Is there more or…?”

“No. I think we’re done here.”

“You know what? I think we are too. And as lovely and sweet as you are, I hope this is the first and last little visit. I hope you fully understood what I told you. About keeping your goodies out of my yard. I think I made it pretty clear.”

“You did. As a matter of fact, you…”

“Have a good day,” Esme manages a smile, then shuts the door in the woman’s face, giving a small jump when she discovers her daughter sitting in the middle of the stairs; her arms crossed over her chest and a scowl on her face.

“What a bitch,” Millie grumbles.

“Normally I’d give you hell for the language, but right? She was, wasn’t she?”

“Huge. A huge bitch. You should have throat punched her, mum. She deserved it.”

“You can’t just go around throat punching everyone that pisses you off. If you could, I’d be exhausted. Or in jail.”

“I can’t believe she’d come here asking for dad,” Millie says, as she stands and takes the stairs two at a time, following her mother towards the back of the house. “How rude is that? Asking for another woman’s husband? That’s some goddamn nerve.”

“She’s probably used to getting what she wants. And WHO she wants.”

“Well she can’t have dad. He doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want anyone. Just you. Think she got the point? That she better not try and mess with him? I think you went way too easy on her. I think you should have thrown down. You could have taken her. For sure.”

“Some women don’t care, Millie. They’ll continue to mess around with married guys no matter how times they’ve been warned to back off. Maybe she’s one of them. Maybe this isn’t the last we’ve seen of her. Who knows.”

“If she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay away. You were tame. Dad won’t be. He won’t be nice.”

“Maybe that’s what she needs. She needs a man to tell her where to go and how to get there. If there’s one thing your dad is a professional at, it’s telling people off. Don’t worry about her ; she’s harmless. Your dad wouldn’t touch her anyway. He’s not the type. To do things like that.”

“I think it would be hilarious to see him tell her off and really embarrass her. And what are those supposed to be?” Millie nods at the container Esme drops on the island.

“Cookies. She made them for him. Isn’t that so sweet?”

The eleven year old makes a dramatic gagging noise. “She probably poisoned them. In hopes you’d eat them. Probably wants to kill you off and become our step mother. They look like shit anyway. Throw them out. I would.”

“I’ll let your dad decide what he wants to do with them. And her. The ball is in his court now. He can decide what to do from here.”

“I hope he tells her to piss off. That’s just plain weird; coming over to some married guy's house and asking for him. On what planet is that okay to do?”

“None. It’s very unusual. To say the least. But like I said, don’t worry about her. Your dad wouldn’t do something like that. He’s a lot of things, but a cheater isn’t one of them. That is the last thing I’m worried about.”

“Good. Because she has nothing on you. She’s all phoney looking. But that fur wasn’t. On her coat. I bet she’s obnoxious enough to wear real fur. What a cow. She should have been throat punched for that alone. Don’t worry, mum. You’re way better than she is. You’re real and you’re cute and tiny. And dad loves you. ONLY you.”

“Your dad is the last person I worry about. Other women? I definitely worry about them. Your dad? Never. I trust him. A hundred percent. And speaking of your father, I hope Alannah likes Mexican. Dad’s bringing some home for lunch.”

“She loves it. She loves all the same things I do.” Picking the container of cookies up off the counter, she peels back one of the corners and sniffs at the contents; frowning and making a gagging noise before setting them back down. “They’re not even good cookies. Oatmeal raisin! The abomination of cookies! Dad HATES oatmeal raisin. He says there’s nothing worse than biting into one and expecting it to be chocolate chip, only to discover it’s oatmeal raisin.”

“Your dad loves Vegemite. So excuse me if I don’t take his taste in food seriously.”

“Vegemite is awesome, mom. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Yes. I do. Which is why I don’t eat it. If I wanted to eat shit, I would. Everything okay? You and Alannah getting along alright?”

“She’s my best friend. In the whole world. I love her. And we always have an awesome time and we never get tired of each other. But there’s something I need to ask you. About her.”

“Okay…” Esme slides onto one of the bar stools at the island. “...what’s up?”

“I’m worried about her. The way things are at home. Her parents are horrible. They don’t even want her around. And when she is around them, they just ignore her. They don’t even talk to her. They don’t ask about her day at school or about her friends or anything like that. They don’t even know what her favourite movie or tv show is or what celebrity she has her crush on. What parent doesn’t know that stuff? You and dad know that stuff about us.”

“Dad and I care. We like knowing about you guys. You’re our kids. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well Alannah’s their kid and they don’t give a crap about her. I mean, they’re leaving her at Christmas! How horrible is that? Who just dumps their kid off on someone at Christmas?”

“Millie, not everyone has the life you do. Not everyone has parents that love them. Not everyone has a mom and dad that wants to be involved in their lives. I didn’t have it. Your dad didn’t have it. And unfortunately, Laney doesn’t have it. It sucks. Believe me, I know.”

“But what if we could give her a family? A real family? Like you and dad did with Ovi.”

“I’m not sure if I like where this is heading…”

“She loves being here. Spending time with all of us. I mean, she was scared of dad at first. Because of how big he is and all his tattoos and scars and stuff. But she got to know him and now she loves him. And she really loves you. She always goes on and on about you. About how cool and fun you are. And tiny. Like her.”

“We love having her here. She’s a great kid. I hope she realizes she’s welcome here. Anytime.”

“She does. Which is why I want to ask you what I’m about to ask you.”

“Okay. Something tells me this is serious. What’s going on?”

"I want her to come back with us. When we go home."

“Millie, we can’t just…”

“She’s part of the family already. You and dad love her like she’s one of us. And you guys treat her great. She’d fit right in. And she’d love it there. She’d love being so close to the beach and the ocean. I know she would. And she’s not a bad kid. She’s a really good kid. You said it yourself; how great she is.”

“She IS great. She’s an awesome kid. But we can’t just take her with us.”

“Why not? Don’t you want her there?”

“Of course I want her there. But she has a mom and dad. Not very good ones, but she still has them. We can’t just take her with us. There’s this little thing called kidnapping. We can’t just take someone else’s child.”

“You took Ovi. When I was a baby.”

“We didn’t just TAKE him. We had to jump through a lot of hoops. Legally. Your dad had to go and talk to Ovi’s father and try and convince him to let us have him. It wasn’t just as simple as bringing Ovi along.”

“Dad could talk to Alannah’s parents. Talk them into letting her come with us. They’d let her. They don’t care about her anyway. We’d be taking her off their hands. They’d probably be happy about it.”

“Amelia, it just isn’t that simple. There’s a lot of red tape and legal stuff. I wish it was easier, but it’s not.”

“But would you consider it? IF her parents said okay?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? I suppose? I’d need time to think about it. I already have seven kids. Taking on an eighth?”

“It’s not like she’s a baby. All the hard work has already been done. Please, mum? Would you at least think about it?”

“If it was just as simple as talking to her parents and taking her with us, I’d say yes. In a heartbeat. But it’s NOT that easy.”

“I just want you to think about it. We’d be giving her a good life. Like you and dad gave Ovi. Will you at least think about it?”

“It’s not a decision I can make on my own, sweet pea. I’m not in this alone. I’d have to talk to your dad. I can’t just tell him we’re taking on another kid. It doesn’t work that way. He has to be on board with it.”

“Will you talk to him at least? Bring it up? Just see what he says?”

Esme nods. “I will talk to your dad. But I’m not promising anything, Millie. We have a crazy life. Your dad has his business and I have the bookstore. And there’s seven of you. Taking Alannah? That’s a big deal. That’s serious. And it’s something your dad and I would really, really have to talk about it. That’s all I can promise you. That I’ll talk to him. That’s the best I can do.” She reaches out and tucks some of the wayward strands of blond hair behind Millie’s ears. “Okay?”

“Okay, mum. And I’m sorry. For how I’ve been acting. I’m kinda bitchy lately.”

“Kinda?” Esme grins. “Just kinda?”

.“Okay, maybe A LOT. But I do love you. And I AM sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. I was your age once. I know what it was like. And it was brutal. VERY brutal. You know what that means? The mood swings, the attitude, the skin issues?”

“Aunt Flow is going to be paying a visit soon.”

Esme laughs.”Yeah, unfortunately. The joys of being a girl. You'll be alright, though. It’s a change. You’re growing up. Even I’m having a hard time with it. I still remember finding out about you. And telling your dad we were having you. Seems like forever ago now. We were so happy.”

“Dad was a little spooked. At first.”

“He was. And for good reason. He’d lost Austin and he didn't think he’d ever get to be a dad again. And then I told him about you and we hadn’t known each other that long and it was kinda scary. For both of us. But once we saw you? On that first ultrasound? And we got to hear your heartbeat? We loved you right away.”

“Dad’s miracle baby.”

“He will never, EVER, stop calling you that. He loves you so much, Millie. More than you could ever comprehend. And he’s pretty good, huh? At the whole daddy thing?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t trade him for another dad, that’s for sure. And I wouldn’t trade you either, mum. Just so you know. I know sometimes we don’t get along well. We don’t always see eye to eye on stuff.”

“Well, you are your father’s daughter. Through and through. And your dad and I disagree a lot too. But I love you. Beyond all comprehension You’re my first. My baby girl. How could I not?”

Smiling, Millie stands behind the stool Esme’s perched on and wraps her arms around her mother’s neck. “I love you, mummy. Please don’t ever doubt that.”

“I love you too, Amelia.” She pushes her fingers through her daughter’s, then presses a kiss to one of the forearms resting across her collarbone. “And I always will.”

[capaldifiction]

Right Now - Lewis Capaldi x Reader

I haven’t written much at all in awhile and this is my first attempt at writing Lewis, so I hope you like it ^_^

Paring: Lewis Capaldi x Reader

Word Count: 3,158

Description: A relationship was the very last thing Lewis needed in his life right now, but a whirlwind romance has him at a crossroads of what to do as new found feelings and a clock counting down force him to make a decision.

Based on the song “First Time” by Plested :)

Warnings: Very brief mention of sexual things that isn’t descriptive at all, so not really much to warn about lol Oh and a bit of swearing, but it’s Lewis so...

Italics are dreams or inner thoughts. Y/H/C = your hair color.

Lewis’ hand drifts slowly across the bare skin on Y/N’s back as the traces of sunshine began to shine into the room. His eyes drift to the alarm clock on the hotel nightstand as he wishes he could turn it back a few hours. He’d barely slept that night, knowing in the morning he’d be on his way home.

What was typically a day to look forward to, had become a ticking clock hanging over his head the past month. He hadn’t expected to find this here. To find her. A whirlwind romance that took him by storm the last month of his two month stay in California for work. What had started as a carefree friendship with a fun girl he met at the record label office, had turned into something they held off on defining.

He’d spent the better part of a month ending his days with take away and Mario Kart in the hotel in the evening, their bodies intertwined at night, and his mornings waking up to her arm across his chest.

It was comfortable, and fun, and easy. She knew how to bring a smile to his face with the simplest things, and she laughed at all his jokes, good or not. It just felt right. But they both knew it couldn’t last.

At the end of the month he had to head home, and she’d be left behind. They’d both avoided that discussion up until the last moment.

Lewis carefully lifted her arm from him as he slipped out of bed. Escaping to the bathroom, his mind raced as he stood under the stream of water in the shower. She’d tried to bring up the ‘what are we’ conversation the night before, but he wasn’t ready. He’d promised her he would wake her in the morning to discuss it before he had to go. A promise he was struggling with whether he should keep or not.

He still didn’t know the answer. He had to leave today. In fourteen hours they’d be over 8,000 kilometers apart for who knows how long. He had no intention of moving there any time soon, she had a job in the city, and he didn’t even know the next time he would make it over to the States. And he certainly wasn’t sure if he was ready to start that kind of long distance right now.

This was the absolute last thing he needed right now in his life. The very last thing his career or emotional wellbeing needed drifting in the back of his mind. Was it better to end it now and deal with getting over it now, or let the missing her drag on through months of trying to make it work.

As he got dressed in the room, his eyes drifted over to her phone screen lighting up on the end table. A silly picture of the two of them stared back at him as the guilt of goodbye hit him again. Moving all his bags toward the door, he’d finally made a decision. Not one he was sure he wouldn’t regret, but it was a decision at least.

He wasn’t going to wake her.

Quietly opening the hotel room door, he ushered his bags out of the room silently. After checking over the room to make sure he’d gotten everything, he grabbed her phone to set an alarm for an hour before the check out time to wake her. Opening her notepad, he typed two words, “I’m sorry,” before setting it back on the nightstand.

Walking back to the doorway, Lewis gazed back at the bed half hoping Y/N would wake up and stop him. Ask him to stay, ask him to be with her, ask him for one last hug. Something. But she slept on peacefully as her phone lit up once again.

He sighed as he looked at the picture one more time, before closing the door behind him and realizing when she woke up, a picture on her phone was all he’d be to her.

-

The drive to the airport seemed to last forever. As the buildings he’d grown used to seeing every day began to fade into the distance, the sound of the LA traffic and his manager on the phone seemed thousands of kilometers away. A distant blur as he repeated a single silent line in his mind over and over like a prayer, “This is for the best.”

Sitting in the terminal at the airport his thumb hovered over her contact. He’d thought about blocking her. But that red button staring back at him seemed too… final. With a sigh he settled for turning off her notifications. He knew if she asked him to come back, he would.

He posed for several pictures with fans as he watched the the clock countdown on the wall. Forced smiles and laughs as he felt each minute pulling him further away. Soon he’d be gone and she’d be waking up to find he’d left. Soon she’d hate him. Soon he’d hate himself. In twelve hours he’ll be continents away holding onto his regret.

As the plane took off he shut down his phone and watched the city fade into the clouds. With a sigh he pulled out his headphones case, assuring his manager he’s fine, just tired. Unzipping the case and lifting the headphones out, he’s met with a small piece of paper tucked into the one earmuff.

“I miss you already Lew - Y/N,” it read simply with a small heart at the bottom. The message tightening his chest as he held it between his fingers. Shoving the note into his pocket, he slipped the headphones over his ears and settled against the window to let himself drift off to the music.

-

Y/N was walking away from him. Quickly weaving in and out of people on the bustling street as Lewis chased after her yelling her name. His lungs ached as he sprinted between the endless stream of people in his way, her Y/H/C hair just barely in sight.

As he finally makes it to the end of the crowd, he freezes at the sight in front of him. Y/N wrapped in someone else’s arms. His heart beats wildly in his chest as the man leans down to kiss her, a smile on her lips. The smile that she used to direct at him.

Seemingly finally noticing him, Y/N turns to look at him with a disappointed look, “You missed your chance.”

“Attention passengers, we’re now arriving at John F. Kennedy International Airport where the local time is…” Lewis’ eyes fly open as he slips in his seat and shakes his head.

“Are you ok man?”

“Y-yeah I’m fine,” he responds back to his manager quickly as he realizes it was a dream. His stomach churns as it plays in his mind again, and the regret is thicker than ever.

After leaving the plane, they grabbed some food where Lewis sat in silence nodding to the conversation and picking at the food in front of him. The thought of eating unappealing at the moment.

When they reached the seating area for their next flight, he finally allowed himself to turn his phone back on. Going to his messages there are no alerts like he expected, but he can tell she’s messaged him.

He thumb hovers over the conversation as he weighs it out in his mind, finally just tapping her image as he tries to ready himself for the barrage of angry messages he’s expecting.

But there is no anger.

“…Lewis? You said that you’d wake me…” “I wish you would have at least given me the chance to say goodbye, even if you didn’t want to have that talk. I’m sorry if you felt I’d cornered you into it.” “Also… I have to let you know. I’d planned on telling you this morning before you left. I’m not expecting it to be reciprocated, nor am I expecting a response. I love you. I know it’s early to say that, we’ve known each other two months, and only been whatever this has been for a month. But I realized the other day that’s what I’ve been feeling, and I’d been avoiding calling it what it is. I just had to get this off my chest and tell you, so I can know I did everything I could, so I can move on without that regret.” “I’ll leave you be after this message. I hope your trip home goes well, and that you know how much I’ve enjoyed the last two months with you. I’ve been happier than I can remember being for a long time, thank you for all the memories. - Y/N”

Tears prick at Lewis’ eyes as he reads the messages, the lump in his throat growing. Three words standing out on the screen. Everything in his mind slipping into place as his own feelings finally make complete sense. He loved her too.

She’s the last thing he needs right now at this point in his life, but she’s also the last thing he should let go.

Cursing under his breath he realized how big of a mistake he made. And in that moment the overhead speaker announcing his boarding flight back to the U.K. brought him back to the present.

“I have to go back,” he says immediately, his manager turning to look at him confused.

“We’re heading back now…?”

“No, I have to go back to LA,” Lewis insists, grabbing his bag.

“What!? We just left, we’re supposed to be boarding the flight back home right now, and you want to go back to California?”

“I have to,” he insists.

“Why the hell do you need to go back there? If you forgot something I’m sure we can find someone to ship it.”

“I fucked up with Y/N, and I have to go fix it, now,” Lewis shoulders his backpack and starts heading toward the help desks.

His manager grabs his arm to pull him back and sighs as he pulls his phone out, “We’ll book you a flight back but I can’t give you more than two days, we’re needed back. And your stuff is already on this plane back so I’ll take care of that. You’re going to have to get clothes or something, I can’t believe you’ve waited until now to think of this.”

Lewis nods and watches as he quickly taps through several screens booking a new ticket back to LAX.

“You’re going to have to head out to the entrance, to check back in and print your new ticket and go back through security. Keep me updated on when you’re coming back so I can book your ticket back. But we really need you back by Wednesday, no exceptions.”

“No exceptions,” he repeats uttering a thanks and taking off toward the entrance.

-

The six hour flight back felt like a lifetime. He couldn’t sleep this time. His thoughts racing more than before, now that he knew what he had to lose. He might be going back, but that doesn’t mean she’ll welcome him back in open arms. He’d lied and skipped out on her without even a goodbye. She had all right to be angry with him.

He’d wanted to message her back, tell her he felt the same, tell her he’d be there as soon as he could. But it didn’t feel right. It had to be in person.

With two six hour flights, waiting around in airports, and LA traffic, it was nearly midnight by the time Lewis found himself standing in front of her apartment building as the taxi sped away behind him. It had technically only been this morning he last saw her, but it felt like an eternity. And he felt like absolute garbage. Not sleeping the night before and twelve hours on a plane hadn’t done him any favors.

Shouldering his bag he takes the stairs up to her floor and counts the apartment numbers as he passes them, each one bringing him closer, and each one making his heart beat faster.

“Maybe this was a bad idea. 208.

What if I’m too late. 207.

What if she slams the door in my face. 206.

Maybe I should just go. 205.

This is fucking stupid what am I doing? 204.

What if someone else is there with her? 203.”

And his thoughts are cut short as he’s met with her apartment door. 202.

Running his fingers through his hair quickly and clearing his throat, he forces himself to knock on the door. The seconds seem to drag on an eternity. The sound of foot steps approaching the door then just silence.

When suddenly the door flies open to reveal Y/N in her pajamas, looking obviously surprised, “Lewis?”

“I- uh, hey there,” he sputters out with an awkward smile, silently cursing himself.

“What are you… why are you… aren’t you supposed to… did you forget something?” she finally settles on as she shifts uneasily in her doorway.

“Yes, you,” he admits immediately, biting his tongue as her eyes widen.

“Excuse me?” she questions, her arms crossing.

“No I mean, I’m making a right fucking mess of this,” he huffs then sighs as he looks back up at her. “Listen I’m shit at this. I came all the way back here without a plan and now I’m standing at your doorstep at fucking midnight looking like an idiot. I love you too, and I’m sorry I left without a goodbye. I’m sorry I avoided saying it before, and avoided taking about it. I didn’t realize it until I was sitting in New York feeling like a complete idiot.”

A soft smile crosses her face as her body relaxes and she looks around the walkway, before backing up, “You should come in before someone recognizes you. And I don’t think the neighbors would appreciate us discussing this in the walkway.”

With a nod he steps through the doorway, and slips past her into her apartment. “Should I say I’m sorry again?” he questions as he takes a seat on the couch.

Sitting down next to him she smirks, “It wouldn’t hurt your case. But I’d like more of an explanation than an apology. I thought you left without waking me because you didn’t feel the same.”

“I panicked this morning,” he admits running his hand through his hair quickly. “I didn’t know what to say or do. I knew if I woke you, if you asked me to stay I would. It was the first time I wasn’t looking forward to heading back. And I’d told myself this isn’t what I need in my life right now. I don’t need a relationship, I don’t even know when I’ll ever be able to see you. But I realized I made a gigantic mistake letting you go without even trying.”

Nodding slowly Y/N reaches out to hold his free hand and squeeze it gently. “I’d been thinking about how it’d all work if you did feel the same, if we gave it a shot. And I’d… asked a few questions toward figuring that out.”

Tilting his head toward her, he finds himself leaning in closer so they’re shoulder to shoulder, “Such as?”

“Well, I mean, you knew I had today off since it was your last day but I’d decided to take all my vacation right now. So I have three weeks off and thought maybe I could come visit you back in Scotland after a few days. Thought it might be good to have some time together official, if that’s what happened,” she shrugged gently against him, her cheeks reddening.

His brow raises as he nods and releases her hand to put his arm around her instead. She leans her head against his chest, and his chin rests on the top of her head, “I really fucked up this morning didn’t I?”

“Just a bit,” she chuckles, a smile forming on her face. “There was something else though, that I had been asking about at work.”

“What would that be?” He asks, his hand slowly rubbing her shoulder.

“I’d talked about the possibility of an office transfer,” she admits.

“To where?”

“London.”

His hand instantly freezes as he feels his heartbeat quickening under her ear, “You’re going to move to London?”

“Well… I thought if they have an opening at the office there, I’d be at least a bit closer than I am now. And we’d be able to see each other more often. It’s the main office you work with, and you’re definitely in London more than you’re in LA.”

“You’d do that… for me?” he asks slowly. “Just uproot your whole life to a whole new country, to be closer to me?”

“If we’re going to be serious about this, I’m going to take it serious,” she nods against him. “I’m not from LA, I moved here for this job and I’ve only been here two years. I don’t have much holding me here. If I can do the same job over there and be closer to you, it seems like the natural choice. I also figured if it didn’t work out, it’s not like we’re living together or I’m your next door neighbor. I’d just be in the position I’m already in now here, but over there. Plus a change of scenery is nice every once in awhile. And I also thought maybe while visiting you I could head down to the office to check it out.”

Lewis sits silently for a few minutes, processing everything discussed in just the last ten minutes alone, then lets out a relieved sigh. “You make my heart want to stick around,” he admits.

“Was that a song lyrics or a romantic line that just came out of your mouth Capaldi?” she teases as she looks up at his own reddening cheeks.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” he chuckles as he pulls back to look at her. “So.. you… me… this thing serious, we fly to Scotland Tuesday?”

“Was that your version of asking me to be your girlfriend?” she questions with a lifted brow.

His hand instantly shoots up to his hair as he clears his throat and turns his head away, “I- well yes, it was.”

“Sounds perfect,” she responds happily, reaching up to turn his face back toward hers. “Thank you for coming back Lewis.”

“I shouldn’t have left like that in the first place,” he adds, standing up and pulling her into his arms. “I won’t let you down again.”

“I trust you,” she says softly, looking up into his eyes.

A smile spreads across his face as he lowers his head toward her, eye flickering to her lips then back to her eyes asking for silent permission. She nods gently, her eyes closing as his lips met hers. “I love you.”

-----

Masterlist

Request List