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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

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Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

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“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

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Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

#smutchallenge #cecewritessometimes #oneshot #erik killmonger x oc #black!oc #smut #Youtube

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ohmaerieme · 3 years

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family photo

read it on AO3!

scratch comes to terms with the mcgees truly seeing him as part of their family.

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From inside his offering house, Scratch can hear the faint chattering from the floors below, and he peeks his head out the window just in time to see Molly flinging open the attic's trapdoor. She's wearing something different from her usual get-up; which, in his opinion, is a good thing, really, who told her that skirt and that jacket matched?

She's bundled up in a pink and purple patterned sweater and light blue denim shorts, a wide grin stretching across her face, showing her dimples; he narrows his eyes in suspicion.

Nothing good ever comes from that smile.

(Nothing good, he says; except for nearly everything that's come from the moment they've been cursed together.)

"Eugh, what're you gonna drag me into this time?" He says, scowling. Molly only grins brighter.

"Pfft, 'drag you into'... C'mon downstairs real quick Scratch!" She sing-songs, eyes squinting as her smile turns into a teasing one. "Mom put out some snacks..."

"Well why didn't you say so!" Scratch yells, affronted, and he zips out of his offering house and through the floor head-first; Molly's laugh echoes from the walls in the room, following him as he floats into the foyer.

Mom and Dad- Sharon and Pete are standing off a bit to the side in the living room, and Darryl is lounging on the couch; as promised, low and behold in the center of the coffee table is a bowl of pretzels and chips. Stretching himself out to shove the bowl in his mouth, his eyes catch a tall tripod and camera beside Molly's parents.

Spitting out the bowl, he picks at a tooth as he hovers over it, making a small questioning hum in the back of his throat.

"Wha's this for?" He asks, flicking a crumb off his finger, and a small hint of something akin to fear pops up in the back of his head. "You guys tryin' to take pictures to sell the house or something?"

"Don't say that, Scratch," Molly says behind him, aghast as she enters the room, and he turns his head around to stare. "This is our forever home! We're doin' a family photo, duh!"

Oh- well, that's... a thing.

He feels a little hurt, and he's not sure why, really- he floats off a bit to the side, looking away; if he had a heart still, it'd be squeezing painfully. Because of hypothetical heartburn, definitely, not from whatever feeling was churning in his gut.

"Oh, well I mean, I'll just-" He coughs a little, moving upwards to float through the ceiling, but Molly grabs him and yanks him down. "Wha- hey!"

"Scraaatch, it's a family photo!" Molly says, and Scratch's saddening feeling turns a little bitter at that.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, I'll be going now," He grumbles, but Molly just pulls him into a tight hug- really, what was with this girl and hugs?- and he starts struggling against it with a scowl. He sees her look over to her Mom, gesturing his head towards him.

"It's a family photo," Sharon speaks up from across the room, "so you've gotta be in it too, Scratch."

Scratch halts in his wriggling, his expression morphing into one of surprise. Molly's smile is ever-present still as she turns back to him, and he can see the others all looking at him with similar expressions; though Darryl's always seems to contain a bout of mischief in it.

It's then that he notices a white sheet hanging from the back of the couch, holes cut into where a pair of eyes would look through; it's a classic, boring ghost costume.

He looks back at Molly, and only then does her smile turn to something more sheepish than bright.

"Since you don't tend to show up really well in photos," Molly explains, and he looks back at the costume, eyeing Darryl as he grabs it and holds it up for him to see. "We figured you'd want something like that so the camera catches you? If you want."

"...Yeah," Scratch says, voice wavering a bit, squirming out of Molly's arms to pick up the costume. "Yeah, that's- that's fine."

With the sheet over his head, he feels a little bit more pulled to the ground; a bit more solid and real to the world.

It's a bit degrading to be wearing such a mocking costume, but the fact they'd thought of it at all- well.

"Now come on over here," Pete chuckles, waving an arm in front of the fireplace. "We spent a good thirty minutes finding the perfect picture place."

"I'm just glad there's a west-facing window in the house," Sharon adds with a wry grin. "Those always give the best lighting."

The others move to stand at the fireplace, looking expectedly at Scratch, who stands there for a moment, simply looking at them and their expressions.

They've already left room for him to squeeze into; Molly and Darryl's faces are filled with glee and excitement, and Sharon and Pete- they're looking at him with such mirth and merriment, like they know-

(Huddled a bit above Molly and Darryl, between Sharon and Pete, Scratch feels loved.)

"Aww, Darryl, you blinked!" Molly huffs, rushing to and back from the camera with admirable speed- maybe she should look into joining track at some point?- and Scratch's sheepish smile is hid beneath his costume.

"What?! No I didn't!" Darryl argues back, affronted. Pete stutters a bit as he speaks up against their bickering to no avail, and Scratch turns his eyes, meeting Sharon's own.

She simply raises an eyebrow with an amused smile, gaze flickering to Molly and Darryl and back. She says without words; Look at them- aren't they wonderful?

Scratch huffs a small laugh, gaze flickering down to the floor, and his shoulders raise up to his ears as he swallows his pride.

"Thanks, Mom," He says, quietly and mumbled, that only Sharon can hear as she's stood beside him; her blinding smile is worth the embarrassment.

Pete places Molly and Darryl back ahead of Scratch and steps back beside him; the click and flash of a camera has never filled him with such soft happiness.

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#the ghost and molly mcgee #tgamm #tgamm fanart #tgamm fanfic #tgamm fic #tgamm molly #molly mcgee #tgamm scratch #tgamm sharon #tgamm pete #tgamm darryl #my art #my writing #ohmaerieme

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shtern-and-art · 3 years

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In The Dark – a cryptid AU about Bad and Skeppy – part 2.

All text is captioned under the cut!

THE STORY

Bad told Skeppy that he is- he was a human, a long, long time ago. And Skeppy didn’t really suspect this, no. But, when the rare rays of sunlight snuck under the canopies, and danced across Bad’s features… sometimes, in those flashes of light Skeppy did see a human face. It happened just a few times before. And if after that conversation, at times of silence and comfort with just the two of them, the white eyes faded out to green more often, Skeppy didn’t mention it. He just collected those moments, like his pretty shards of glass – dark on first sight, but shining brilliantly, when you look through them at a sunny day.

Skeppy keeps them close, and doesn’t ask yet, doesn’t pry in too deep at first. Because he knows even more about this town’s story now. About all the animal attacks many years ago, about woodcutters killed and thrown out of the forest, or hanged up on the trees by “the mafia”. About how quickly the tree logging business was shut down after the big “accident” on one of the forest stations. About the photo he saw, in the little museum near the closed factory, with families of the major business owners of the town. And one of the faces he saw on that picture was the same that shined with gentle kindness, between the flickering of shadows, when Bad sneakily tangled wildflowers in Skeppy’s hair.

Bad never speaks about his past, and why he despises people of the town so much. And with trial and error Skeppy learns that asking doesn’t get him anywhere. It only gets Bad to fuss up, and disappear to nap in the deeper woods for a few days. It is a long way to where they can talk about it directly, without someone freaking out.

Anyway, the woodcutting business is slowly coming back to town, and more and more people and workers are wandering around the forest. So Bad has plenty of reasons to be irritated already, and they both have so many fun pranks to pull on the locals to get distracted and pleasantly pass the time.

THE PAST

The trick of it all, is that the forest is old. And the forest is alive, like an animal in its depth might be. And a while back, in the 40-50s, the wood logging company started cutting way deeper into the woods than before. Going to far, not letting the land recover, chasing that profit on increasing sales. The business was doing amazing – by destroying the calm existence of the forest, hurting it’s body and mind, and not giving anything back.

And in many places, they could’ve done all this and more without immediate consequences. But this land was old. And this forest was alive. And, when scared and hurt, living things can bare teeth and lash out to protect themselves.

The forest was in distress, and angry, and its feelings were feelings off all the living things inside of it. Over time, the animals started getting sick, and more aggressive, venturing into the town, possessed by the shared pain and fear. That pain and fear seeped through the land, and in the town, too, distrust and crime rates started rising up. All was unwell. And, of course, it was very bad for business.

Said business was run by several prominent families in the town. The tree logging factory and the adjacent businesses were all tied together economically and through the reliance on the forest being there on their doorstep. And the people running those businesses more or less knew about what this forest was, how it was. Everyone from the town who was around long enough understood – at least in some way – that these woods are more alive and dangerous than many others. And with several years of disturbing happenings occurring more and more, not many of these business owners could deny the supernatural element of their troubles.

And so, they began looking for the ways to make it better. To appease and calm down the spirit of the forest. It was a real group effort, a whole ass multi-family project. Even if some family members and younger kids didn’t fully believe in all this “occult pagan stuff” – they still tolerated it, and went along. Because families and communities stick together. And what harm can come from building some altars in the woods? Or a few chickens spilling blood on the old rocks near the abandoned trails? They will go on the grill same afternoon anyway.

The spirit of the forest is just, well. A spirit. It’s not exactly sentient, it’s more like a mushi, or a very smart animal, or a thunderstorm – half-personified, semi-aware, just a force of nature taking form and prominence. It just exists, and lives, and it is not human. So, taking leeways with appeasing and calming it down should be ok, right? It’s not like the forest spirit would care, if people will make even with the land by taking care of it, and letting it heal with time… or just perform a cool ritual, and give the forest an equal sacrifice in return for its pain.

Replanting the trees and reworking the business is way too expensive and time consuming anyway. So, they try, and research, and try… And the forest barely takes note of their efforts. And the creepiness, and all the bodies keep piling up, all the bad press is getting harder to contain… It starts to seem, that to really break equal the sacrifice should be of an equal or a greater value than the hurt they’ve caused.

So, in a tragically escalating turn of events, several heads of the families came to the conclusion, that the proper sacrifice, the one that will hold, should be one of their own. A human sacrifice – a life of-, and from people connected to the land, those who caused the forest distress.

It wasn’t the main plan, of course. Probably. Not from the start, for sure. Things just turned out this way, you know. It was just an option on the table. And it just happened that things were going especially terrible, down the drain so fast, and it just happened that they had a good option, a person who was there, and-

It was just so convenient. The accountant in their clique, the newer guy who just recently joined old wealthy families in running the town, build his own business from ground up through the years. He had a son, 20-something. That quiet but loud one, that they barely noticed. And it’s sad, of course, that it had to come to this. And tragic, yes. A real sacrifice. But, really conveniently, no skin of the main businessmen’s back.

They can even keep the distance, and ask their kids/grandkids to mark him for the ritual. None of them really liked the guy anyway. They all were just forced to hang out sometimes, because of status and all that.

So, they’ll gladly go on to make the special paste, or whatever, and make sure the guy touches it. Even if the kids may not believe in all this ritual stuff fully – it’s still fun, and creepy, and that guy was so-o-o stuck-up-ish anyway. Always pretending to be so perfect and proper, you know. Didn’t even partake in all their fun ritual stuff all year. Fuck him, draw a little mark on his raincoat with old herbs and dirt, on the soles of his shoes too, and the inside of his jacket. All 6 of kids got to draw a little finger-painting on something of his, and they all watched him leave to visit his grandma in a cabin deep in the woods.

By the time Darryl got to the grandma’s house, late at evening, the bouquet of flowers he brought her was overgrown with wildflowers.

The voice coming from the dark bedroom, asking him to come in was ever so slightly off grandma’s usual stern tone. So, Darryl didn’t go in, of course. He had his hands full with the pastry bags, and the sweet smelling flowers, spilling out from their paper raping. And when grandma came out – moving just a bit too smoothly for her age, staring at him just a tad more intense than any human would – Darryl excused himself to go chop more firewood behind the house.

And standing there, under the light rain and weak backyard light with only the old, dull iron axe for himself, he knew that his grandma always had a distant, and a bit scary presence, but… The creature in the house was not her. And he knew that something was watching him from the forest – and from the window of the house – dozens of inhuman eyes staring right at him. Waiting.

He tried to run, of course, to get back to town. But the car started to die halfway. And the other kids, the 6 that followed him into the woods, to make sure he stays put… They were right there to take him deeper through the trees, away from main roads. Perhaps, they, too, were scared, and saw the glimpses of white fur far off in-between all other animals following them. But it was too late, they were too deep, and Darryl lost his glasses, struggling on the way to the clearing they decided to stop at.

There was no going back now. The ritual was in motion, gears turning, and the forest took the offer that was promised – the blood of the youth that was tied to the earth. All 7 of them, who partook in the offering, and touched the herbs and blood, and the sigils made with them – because this is how the ritual works, if you really, actually read through and research it.

The kids, or, more likely, their parents, didn’t. And so, after that night, none of them ever came out of the forest. Well, not in one piece, at least. Six badly mangled bodies (some partially eaten by wild animals) were recovered couple days later, and it was blamed on the mafia taking revenge on the local businessmen for some dealings going bad.

The tree logging company and the adjacent businesses didn’t really had a chance to recover after that. Not after several years of lawsuits and bad rumors, and not after loosing most of their kids – one of the bodies was even never found!

And with that tragedy and the following scandals, no one really noticed at first, but the animal attacks quieted down, and people stopped disappearing in the woods. But, in retrospect, it made sense – with mafia moving on from the totally defeated and bankrupt rivals.

THE FOREST SPIRIT

So, yes. The ritual kind of worked, the forest took what was offered, like water running down the newly dug out path. At that time, going down that path, the forest was angry, and hurting, it felt helpless and betrayed. And so did Darryl – just as strongly. And here they were, getting dragged down the same path, connected through it, unable to stop it all. In that shared intensity, being so similar in the moment, tangled through the flow of the ritual, they… kind of became the same thing.

Its normal for the forest spirit to have a vessel – an animal from that forest that carries out it’s will. And over time, those vessels can change, when the time comes, or something big happens with the forest. And there, at that moment, close to death, and merging with the forest spirit, Darryl became it’s next vessel, too.

It’s normal for the forest spirit to possess other forest life sometimes – they act out it’s feelings, if they get too strong. This is a natural prosses, easy like breathing, happening purely on instinct. Usually forest spirits do not possess fully sentient beings (or don’t do it for long). Because people and thigs similar to them, they have more self-awareness and recollection. They can not follow the impulses of the forest so blindly.

What happened here was a freak accident, an accidental turn of unexpected events… Because even after dying, and coming back to life no longer human, even connected to land and the forest so deeply now, being literally a part of them. Even with all of that… Darryl couldn’t get too “possessed”, like other animals or vessels would. That could probably happen, but only if those feelings would be really big, all encompassing, and – matched his own. If they shared them fully and strongly, with the forest, like at the time when for a few minutes they became one.

BAD

When Bad’s sense of self slowly came back to him, he was no longer human. And, after being connected to supernatural world so deeply, he knew of many non-human things just on instinct. He knew what happened with him (what was done to him). Knew that the people who did it paid for it right after, and will be doing so for the years to come. Bad knew that he, himself, will be here, in the forest, for all the years to come. That he’ll never be able to come back to his old life, or even say proper goodbyes.

Not that he’d want to, though. Most people in the town, and especially from his family’s newer circle didn’t like him. For his dad finally making it big and “forgetting the roots”, for Bad being too perfect of an example to compare other not so helpful sons to. And, of course, for Bad being too close to not fitting the perfect example of what a proper young bachelor should be. But the Darryl they whispered, and spread crude rumors about was dead. And Bad didn’t have to try to- or pretend to like them back.

He didn't have to deal with it anymore: with all the greed, maliciousness and distrust of the people and “the business”, all the lies. He was no longer part of them – now outright – didn’t have to deal with them, or pretend to be anything he wasn’t.

They could just. Stay out of each other’s way.

It was pretty easy to do now, since Bad had lost most of the human cravings due to his supernatural nature, and his pain. Pain, and anger, and- So, yes, sure, he could keep people out, just like the forest spirit wanted, and have everyone leave him alone, like they both wanted.

RAT

Forest was already not as seething, and the tree logging business was shutting down, and Bad’s restless, half-dazed wandering between the trees was at least somewhat calming. At some point, Bad found a small wolf puppy deep in the brush. It was really small, weak, and completely alone. Its fur was as white as Bad’s new hair, and its eyes glowed, exactly like the ones Bad saw watching him from the shadows, back on the last day he was human.

This was the previous host of the spirit of the forest, Bad saw it now. He knew that it was born in these woods, and took on the spirit of them just after being born, and carried out it’s will for many, many decades, until Bad came along, and took this wolf’s place. And now its job was done. And it was dying. Slowly fading away to become part of the forest again.

There was some sort of solidarity between them, stumbling into each other between the gears of nature and time. Or, at least, Bad felt it in the moment. And, well, he didn’t have much to do, and fussing over and taking care of a little pathetic puppy the size of a rat was way more pleasant way to pass the time, than just endlessly feeling all the things Bad felt all the time.

So, he took care of Rat (yes, the Rat) for a while, took on hunting for her, and learnt to sleep in the minds of the forest creatures, while she rested. Time lost nearly all of it’s meaning for Bad, but it did pass, more and more of it. And Rat got better, and grew back into a full wolf, and lived past the life-span of all other wolfs born after the ritual. She went on to live on her own, but stayed close by, always keeping Bad in her sites. She joined him on the hunts, and watched over Bad, while he slumbered in the shadows.

Bad had no idea why, but her fur still rippled under moonlight, and her growl rumbled the earth, like some of the power of the forest remained in her still.

Masterpost / first meeting /part 1 / part 2 / part 3

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trivialbob · 3 years

Photo

Sheila and I went over to St. Paul to have dinner at a dive bar. It was all that I’d hoped for. We passed a few other dive-looking places on Randolph Ave. I’ll probably be back.

The evolution of my french fry consumption: At an earlier age I would order the full basket of fries--for myself--and leave the restaurant feeling like Fat Bastard. And no way would I share any with whomever I was with.

Eventually I’d share a full basket with my wife. As we tell our kids, if you run out we can always order more. Spoiler: We never had to order more.

Tonight we split the half order of fries. That was the perfect amount. I left the restaurant not looking like a hippo or counting my stretch marks.

Coming home we stopped at Target for something. Apparently the supply chain problems, or flat out Goldfish flavor discrimination, has affected Target. Not one bag of pizza flavored ‘fish. The store mocked me with a sale price even lower than what I found at my local grocery store.

On the rest of the drive home Sheila and I tried to write an episode of The Office in 2020-2021 where the characters had to deal with the pandemic.

Michael feigned a disability so he could butt in front of the line to get a shot. He also wanted to hug everyone to show he wasn’t afraid of the virus.

Kelly was seen frequently with her mask off, so she could bedazzle it. She also had a different mask for each hour of the day.

Meredith got so irritated being told to wear her mask that she came to work wearing nothing but a mask. The whole episode she was pixelated from the neck down.

Angela went full Karen, keeping track of everyone who so much as let one nostril become uncovered. By the end of the episode her little Field Notes book had not a single blank page.

Darryl got his shot and wore his mask as well as anyone. He didn’t like Kevin trying to fist-bump him and saying “Oh yeah, you and me, no vaccine am I right?” Kevin passed away from the virus at the end of the episode.

Ryan has a side gig making counterfeit vaccination cards. After a drunken date with Kelly he tells her the next day the virus makes it too risky for them to become serious.

Creed got his shot because he thought it was an illicit drug. When he didn’t get high he “realized” he’d been microchipped. He bought one of Ryan’s fake cards for a thousand dollars because he thought it was a high yield savings bond.

Stanley enjoyed working from home so much he declared he’s never coming back to the office. In every Zoom meeting he’s wearing a silk smoking jacket. A glass of red wine is always visible in the background.

Phyllis said she’s only getting a shot if Bob Vance gets his too. Bob Vance, of Bob Vance Refrigeration, will not get the shot.

Pam doesn’t work much because she’s devoting her time to making baby-sized masks for her children.

Jim bothers Dwight. Jim keeps moving a little fan on his desk to position it to blow air over Dwight’s desk.

Dwight is taking Ivermectin via IV drip. He also has enough plexiglass around his desk to supply an Olympic sized hockey rink. He’s really frustrated when Jim keeps saying, “What? I can’t understand you through all this plastic.” Jim can totally hear Dwight.

Andy keeps saying to Jim, “Hey Big Tuna, got the ‘rona yet?” Then he starts singing My Corona to the tune of My Sharona.

Toby is flustered with this HR nightmare. He wants to follow the rules carefully yet the entire episode his mask never covers his nose.

Oscar is upset with Michael for calling it the Wuhan Flu. Oscar says “Actually... it’s it’s a novel coronavirus or COVID-19.”

Erin enjoys greeting visitors with complimentary mask and a dash of hand sanitizer. She loses her cool when Meredith keeps drinking it.

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ma-lark-ey · 4 years

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Nick Close had never been a very fantastic child. That much was very obvious. Granted, most of the dumb and illegal shit they did was for their fathers attention (however rarely that option actually worked), but it was still dumb and illegal shit.

Tonight was not one of those dumb and illegal nights, however; tonight was still a night Glenn Close could never find out about. Nick prayed he'd never find out about.

Nick had always been closed off from their father. How couldn't they be? When they were little, it was always Nick and Momma at home, while Daddy was on tour or doing shows. Glenn only started being home once in awhile when Mom died. And yes, Nick calls him Glenn. Glenn was never... He was never 'Dad.'

And this, this was certainly one of the things Nick kept tightly closed off from their father. That thing being one of the biggest secrets Nick may ever keep; their gender.

Nick didn't *mind* to be a 'he,' don't get them wrong. Some days, they really enjoyed being a 'he.' But today? Today... Nick was a she. And she couldn't deny that. Some days she felt so fucking confident in her body, like she could throw on a baggy t-shirt and slightly too-big pants with a beanie and fight god. Others, her body felt like someone else's and she wanted to rip her skin off and start over. Dress like those beautiful alternative women she saw on TikTok. With the demonias, fishnets, skirts, ripped up shirts, messy hair. God, some days she didn't know if she wanted to be them, or be with them.

Tonight, she definitely wanted to be them.

She had done up her makeup in the most extravagant way she knew how, eyeliner to the gods. Fishnets under a faux-leather, checkered print pencil skirt she found thrifting with Grant a few days ago. She had one a torn up old t-shirt she'd cut into a croptop and not to mention her Docs. She felt like she could fight god with her chain belts and dramatic jewelry.

Nick knows Glenn would never care if he knew his 'son' sometimes felt more like his daughter, but she wasn't ready to give him that kind of trust. Grant? Grant got that kind of trust. Henry got that kind of trust. The twins got that kind of trust. But not Glenn. Glenn hasn't proved he'd deserved that yet.

And maybe Nick didn't want to take the time to explain why Grant sometimes called her Nickie beyond "Its just a nickname, Glenn."

And she was okay with that. She knew that she wasn't ready. Maybe she'd never be 'ready,' and Glenn wasnt in her life enough for it to matter.

...

Why'd the front door just open? Why is Nick hearing a car lock? Why is the front door opening? Glenn's not supposed to be home from tour until tomorrow. And here Nick is, in the living room. Looking like a pretty well passing woman. She had learned plenty of tricks over her last two years of presenting feminine some days. The lanky, stickman build the had was the one thing Glenn had given to her that she was thankful for.

But the genetics of Glenn Close that were gifted to his child were not the problem at hand. The problem at hand is that *Glenn's home.*

Glenn's home. Glenn's home, and Nick is not in her Glenn Mode. She's vulnerable. Vulnerable to a lot of questions she doesn't want to answer tonight. Doesn't want to have to explain where all this women's clothing came from, nor why she's dressed as one. It can't pass as drag, but she's obviously not in drag makeup. Fuck. Fuck it all. Fuck her life and her shitty decision making skills. Fuck Glenn for never communicating his plans. And fuck the stunned way he's staring at her now.

The awkwardness of the room was palpable at this point. Nick felt like a deer in headlights. Nick felt like melting into the floor and disappearing from the world. Nick felt like her whole world was about to collapse in on itself. What if Glenn hated her, what if he didn't want her to act like this or be this person, what if-

"Well, don't you look nice. Got a date or something, kid?"

Thats... That's not what Glenn was supposed to say. That's not what he's supposed to say! He's supposed to be upset or revolted or-

"I- I uh..." No. No don't cry. Fuck. Why are you crying, Nicholas? Nicole? Fuck what even if your name right now?

Glenn's here. It should be Nicholas. That's your name when you're a boy. But its a girl day. You want to be Nicole today. Glenn is here, and you're Nicole right now. And Glenn is here. And you're Nicole. And Glenn-

She heard a bag drop on the ground and footsteps come toward her. She stepped back and tried hide behind her arms. No words. She can't speak.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

She remembers the time she went to school in feminine clothes and a couple of guys almost jumped her, before Lark pulled a knife on them and got them both suspended.

Hands grab onto her shoulders, a gentle hold. She can feel the calluses on Glenn's fingers from his guitar. When was the last time he held her?

Her knees feel like jello. She remembers when she started posting on her second TikTok, open about her gender and pronouns because she didn't have to keep up a cisgender face when her dad didn't have the account. And how transphobes sent her deaththreats until she blocked all those words from her comments and the DMs got disabled.

She's a few inches taller than Glenn in her platform Docs. Which she realizes when he pulls her into a gentle hug. She feels makeup running on her face. And she's crying. Why is she crying?

She remembers being ten years old standing at moms grave, standing next to Glenn. Just after the burial. It was the first time she'd seen him cry.

Her chin's on his shoulder now, his arms around her upper torso and holding her against him. She realizes she's shaking. That he's just holding her. He's holding her. Daddy's home.. He's giving her a hug...

She remembers the last time Glenn had hugged her. At Mom's funeral. She was sobbing at her grave, and so was Dad. He pulled her into him and held her so tight. So tight she thought he'd crush her. But he just held, like she was the entire world. Like if he let go he'd loose her to. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hid her face in the mix of long hair and his suit jacket. He felt like her whole world in that moment, too.

Nickie brings herself back to what's happening. Glenn's holding her, her arms are awkward resting on his back, He's clutching her by the shoulders. She remembers these hugs. The hugs that he used to give her every time he left and came home. The ones he gives where every second of it is embued with love. It felt like that now.

She could tell he loved her. But those words felt like lies in her head.

Lies. Lies. Lies. So many lies. So so many lies.

"I'll be home by nine, Nick." It was a lie, Glenn didn't come home for three more days. "I promise I'll be home on your birthday." He wasn't. "I'll be there." He wasn't. "I'll make it, promise." He didn't. Everytime. Everytime, where Glenn shouldve been, it was Mom. And when Mom died, it was Henry. Or Ron. Or Darryl.

But he's here. Right now. And he's holding her. It doesn't make it okay, it doesn't excuse it. But he's holding her. Her knees go weak, and she crumbles. He crumbles with her.

She sobs, he doesn't force her to say anything. She doesn't return his hug, he doesn't expect her to.

"You're supposed to be mad." Nick mumbled after she doesnt remember how long. Glenn gives a light chuckle and adjusts his grip on her.

"And why would I be?" He asked, not protesting as Nick shoved him off and shuffled back a few inches. It felt weird to be so close to him after sixteens years of so much distance.

"Why wouldn't you be?" She spat, crossing her arms and staring at the ground. "Nick's fucked up again. That's my whole brand! Being a total and absolute fuck up! The disappointment! The druggy, the- the... The mistake." She felt more hot tears behind her eyes. She could feel Glenn staring at her in concern.

"Nick, you are not a fuck up. Or a mistake. Or whatever else. Nick, you're my baby, and I-"

"Then why did you leave? If you're gonna pull that bullshit, and say you love me no matter what, and that I'm your little girl, and that- that you wanted me from the very beginning and wouldn't give me up, why did you leave? Why dont you care now? When you come home, and woopsie! Your son's dressed up like some goth chicken. Why are you acting like everythings fine!? Everything is NOT fine, Glenn!" She hit the floor with her hands and growled in frustration. It wasn't fine.

Glenn stared down and took a deep breath. Then he sighed. "Yeah, I can't blame you on that one, kiddo. Alright, full disclosure, Nick. I already- I knew. I knew about the pronouns, and the name. I knew. Henry told me."

"H- Henry... Did what?"

"He told me. Soon as you told him. He called me that night, let me know what you had said. We have a rule in our group, we've had the rules since Grant came out. If one of the kids comes out as anything, you tell the other dads. Especially if its a name and pronouns thing. Cause, we agreed that since well, we were all kind of one bug cluster fuck of parents to each others kids, it was better if everyone knew who was what. So we didn't fuck it up."

"So you have a rule to out kids to their parents? That's-"

"No! Not any kids. Its just you, Terry, Grant, and the twins. Just you five. Because, here's the thing, Nick- Nickie? Whatever. Us dads? We arent- we're new to the whole queer scene. Its not as normal for us to just fliparoo what pronouns and names we call people as it is for you guys. So, we would practice to each other. When you told Henry you liked being called Nickie, he came to us and essentially said, 'I'm gonna say Nickie to you guys as often as i fucking can do I don't end up deadnaming.' "

Glenn took Nick's hand into his and held it tight. Nick still felt like punching Henry in the fucking face for outting her to Glenn.

"You know that I love you, Nick." Her body went rigid at that. And she looked uo at him, glaring as hard as should mister with how fucking teary eyed she was.

"Do I? Do I know that you love me, Glenn?" And his face fell. It was like she just sucked his soul out of him. Good. That should be one hell of a wake up call.

"Nick, of course I love you. What would ever make you think I didn't love you?" Nick but her lip, thinking over her words before she said them. She thought on a lot of things.

"You left. My mom died, and you left. My *mother* was dead and you went back to touring in a matter of weeks. My mother was dead, and I was ten years old. And I was home, by myself, for weeks. Glenn, I was alone for months. Sure, there the nanny. But that wasn't Mom or Dad. I needed my parents. I needed my dad. I needed my dad to give me a hug, promise me it'd be okay. That we were okay. And he fucking left. He walked out that door, didn't come back for months, only called every three weeks. Missed birthdays, holidays, soccer games, and whatever the fuck else. Why on gods green earth would I think that you loved me when you fucking abandoned me, Glenn? Why? Would you think I loved you if I fucked off to god knows where after being home for just a couple days? Huh? If when I found out you'd been up in drug city with your mates and getting caught by cops doing a bunch of stupid shit, all you got was a slap on the wrist and a phonecall that last three minutes?"

Glenn stared at the ground for a long time. He didn't speak. And he pulled her back into a hug, practically dragged her across that distance to hold her again. Hold her like the whole world depended on Glenn never letting go again. Like if he let go everything would come crashing down, like Nick was the entire fucking world and he just wanted to protect her. He held her like he had when Mom died.

"God, Morgan... He's just like you." He mumbled, clutching Nick so tight she couldn't breath. She didn't care he used the wrong pronouns, she didn't care he'd barely even addressed the elephant in the room, she didn't care her heel was digging painfully into the back of her other leg. Her dad was here. He was holding her. He was making sure she knew he loved her. Dad finally came home.

Glenn let out a painful sob into Nick's shoulder, he said something. Nick thinks it was an apology, but between the sniffles and the hiccups and layers of clothing, its impossible to tell. Glenn pulled her up into his lap, held her like he would when she was five or six. Her head on his shoulder, his arms around her middle as he sat horizontal across his lap. Her legs were too long to curl up like they used to, so they sat awkwardly half-stretched across the floor. It was nostalgic in a way. It felt Glenn was just realizing how many years he'd wasted. How much time with his child he had lost.

"I'm sorry, Nick. Im- I didn't realize. I'm so fucking sorry, Nick." He was still crying. Crying more than Nick had ever seen him cry. She could hear the self-hatred and the regret in his voice. She reached an arm around his neck and pulled him that much closer.

"Just don't leave again... Please, Dad." Nick doesn't remember that last time she had called him 'Dad.' But, it felt right in that moment. It hasn't felt right in a long long time.

#this is a whole mess of angsty Close boys #genderfluid Nick is the only kind I will accept in my writing anymore #dndads #dungeons and daddies #Glenn is a shit dad but I will accept a redemption arc for him

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starrysupercell · 3 years

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Headcanon Seven:

Time for something more light hearted! ;p

Darryl was also a Bot from the army who someway, somehow, deflected from the Bot Army and wandered off on his own. (Nobody knows about this, probably.)

He may have been faulty, or he may have just developed his own consciousness. Either way, the moment he saw the vast ocean he knew that it was the love of his life.

Unfortunately, he knows water and robots don't mix together so well, so he uses a wooden barrel to protect himself- the bot equivalent of a life jacket!

Currently he works along with Tick at Staar Park. Tick was made as a Security Guard type. He could lure out and track down individuals. Together, they made for an unstoppable team at stopping people in their tracks.

At this point, Darryl is a very threatening figure, with a menacing voice to match.

One night, the duo corners a silhouette they've been tracking. It's a young girl.

She explains fearfully that her parents worked for Staar Park but they left her there, and she wanted to leave too.

Darryl explains that nobody can leave but feels... guilt when the child pleads with him.

He and Tick lead her to the main building where he makes the case to let her be. Unfortunately, they don't, but they do reach a compromise.

She won't be forced to work but he has to take care of her. Instead of a night job, he would be manning an area of the Park.

Tick liked working with Darryl so he garbles that he would join them.

Since then, Darryl has all but raised the girl. He named her Penny (Yes, she had a name but he considers it a type of reprogramming- so it's Penny now.), changed his voice because it scared the kiddo too much, and at her beckoning, made every holiday she looked forward to the best he possibly could.

(She loved all the holidays.)

#Darryl #Tick #Penny #Pirate Trio #Robots #Bot Army #Cutie Pies #Staar Park #abandonment #Ocean #this was supposed to be cute I am so sorry guys #please don't leave me #Also Soul Eater reference lol #headcanon

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symphonicspecter · 4 years

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My dear children have been ideas in my head but I haven’t put them on paper or digital print yet, and everyone is sharing their Subconites, so here they are. My beloved babies. More info on them under the cut!

Belle

She/her Mute Carries a bell constantly, she’ll get nervous without it Remembers her name from life, ‘tells’ new acquaintances by ringing bell Stims by ringing bell, tail flicking, wobbling, nodding Emotes with bell and head movement Shy and flighty Spends most time in music hall Major music nerd Plays many instruments Can briefly possess instruments to play them Happily helps others with writing and playing music Knows the music hall and its contents well Does a happy dance upon seeing friends Takes ‘walks’ in early morning/late night

Foxy They/he Doesn’t remember name and couldn’t pick one, stuck with Foxy when it became a nickname Not shy, but has to have time to get comfortable with someone Can easily and accurately sense emotions Tries to calm others down by resting on their head or shoulders or by wrapping around them Easily moved by the emotions of others Likes drawing and writing, especially characters, and frequently makes fan content of things they’re into or their friends are into A little nervous about sharing their work Likes adventures with happy endings kind of stories

Sarah She/her Likes physical games like tag or wrestling Very protective of her friends and of Snatcher

“Do no harm take no crap” kind of attitude Reads a lot about plants

The best in the forest at identifying plants WILL talk your ear off about her interests

Will also relocate any plants that are in inconvenient places Quick to give a pep talk and some advice to anyone feeling down Likes giving hugs Probably the first one to suggest making a pillow fort when hanging

Darryl

He/him Tends to wear jackets, hoodies, and sweaters, usually dark colors but likes a bit of bright color sometimes, or patterns/designs

Meme lord...one of the few with a smartphone and uses it to make memes Takes a lot of pictures of his friends in a heartfelt manner amongst all the funny ones Always working on expanding his vocabulary Plays a lot of word games like Scrabble and Boggle, and usually wins Likes rapping; It’s his favorite genre and he loves writing his own Into hip hop and into rock Loves sneaking puns/wordplay in his songs Will rap about funny things, sappy things, and rarely serious things He wants his memes and his music to brighten someone’s day Not confrontational, but stands up for his friends Has good advice, and is always ready to lend an ear

Valor They/them Wears a cape almost always Comforts friends by saying they’ll protect them One of the best in the forest at running, jumping, and climbing; they practice Likes acting, and has also practiced voice acting a bit Usually the one who gets the ideas to put on a play, or at least one of the first to get on board with production Like movies and books about magic, epic adventure, and fun characters

Sometimes purposely goes into a trap just so Snatcher will practice his Evil Intro with them

When acting, likes taking the role of hero

#apparitions #no I dont know why the spacing is doing that I tried to fix it #a hat in time #subconites #dwellers

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yutaya · 3 years

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Iron Fist Rewatch 1x02: Shadow Hawk Takes Flight

These doctors seem very nonchalant about how close this dude just got to murdering Danny with a fork. No reassurance or apology - just pour drugs down his throat so they can hose him down. What a picture of The System.

Negative stereotype that has roots in truth - there ARE places like this and worse, but it's true that we very rarely see the good kind of facility represented in TV too. Sucks for them to always be portrayed as the bad guy, and probably harmful too if people really could benefit from them but are wary.

"Let's say [he IS Danny]. That would mean he somehow, miraculously, [1] survived a plane crash, [2] in the Himalayas, and that [3] for some unknown reason he waited fifteen years to come back, with [4] no shoes and a tendency toward violence." - Ward, reciting all the reasons he's been repeating to himself ever since the parking lot not to start thinking this might be Danny, frog and freezer stories or no.

"We're doing the right thing. We could have just had him arrested." Why DIDN'T you have him arrested, Ward? Oh right, HAROLD. ugh.

AU where Danny gets arrested instead. Unfortunately I THINK none of the other Defenders timelines work out so this would be a good time for them to meet him early, though... 🤔

Again with this bird. I completely forgot about this symbol theme.

Danny: "I was meditating." Doctor: "Oh!" Danny: "Yeah, I was trying to focus my chi so I could get out of here." Doctor: "Oh..."

Doctor's like: Oh, wow, this is an interesting level of specificity for a made up story...

I forgot how much I like this doctor. He's legit trying to help. I forget what happened to him...

Colleen is putting so much effort into insulting her students LOL. Also: Darryl's shoes are too big. Bc Colleen runs a struggling dojo in an underprivileged part of city as a safe haven for these kids and to help "teach them how to perform in the real world"

Parts of this conversation that will weigh on Colleen: "You saw me being attacked; you KNOW there's something weird going on." "One of the richest families in New York have a problem with you." "No, I don't have anyone else I can ask for help: you're the only one."

Ward: Ok, good, I'm hearing reasons why this guy can't be telling the truth and therefore cannot be Danny. That's good. I still feel kind of off though... but that's probably just the thing where Harold put cameras in the hospital. Yeah.

Poor Kyle.

Ward: "We can lobotomize him!" Me: "asdfghjkl WARD."

This shot of Harold's "smile" when he tells Ward "You ARE one of my guys! One of my most trusted guys!" is SO CREEPY

You can see Colleen FREEZE when Ward introduces himself. Harold and Ward shooting themselves in the foot with this: they're lending credence to Danny's story from the phone convo.

Ward, one of the richest people in the city: "Lie to the authorities about that homeless dude being violent for my own personal benefit. Here's a blatant bribe."

Harold yelling at the spy footage like he's throwing popcorn at a movie.

POOR KYLE.

This is deeply uncomfortable for me on a personal level.

Joy: Hmmmmm. What possible reason... could "Danny's" doctor have... for asking that very specific question.... unless.........?

Ok but "tiny Danny wanted to be an acrobat and was always jumping around on things" makes it SO MUCH EASIER for canon-divergent AUs where Danny isn't in the plane crash to still include ninja warrior Danny I-

Harold, a known dead man, looming ominously in the shadows of Danny's mental hospital room: "Here's a message about how you have to come find me and help me. It's not very subtle so you'll probably get it." Danny: "Oh shit, maybe I am crazy...?"

Danny: "I was a warrior. Only in the middle of a fight did I fully come alive. The harder someone hit me, the more everything came into focus." Harold: "Hm. Note taken." Me: *crying emoji*

Show: "oooh, ominous, Harold's under the Hand's thumb. Maybe there's more to him, maybe he's sympathetic...?" Fans: "lol, nice try. We all clocked that creep-o the moment we saw him."

I've talked about Colleen's first impressions of the Meachums in general and Ward in specific before but. Dude. Dude.

Danny, thinking that his very last tentative hope (Colleen) has fallen through, receives a communication from Joy. ;____;

Had. Had Joy already opened the bag of m&ms. It was sealed when she pulled it out of her desk drawer so wh- OH. The hospital opened Danny's mail, including the candy bag, to inspect it before giving it to him. Hahaha *sob*

If Colleen hadn't come to see Danny here, their paths might have diverged. As far as he's concerned, Colleen has made it clear that she's not going to help him and that they're just two strangers in a big city. Turning the corner and seeing her come to visit him boosts that flame of hope that Joy's package rekindled even further. He thought he had no one, and now the amount of people he has is growing.

Ok but, in an AU where Colleen doesn't go see Danny / Danny doesn't know Colleen came to see him, that isn't necessarily the end of their relationship. On Colleen's side, she's still suspicious of this entire Meachum mess - it RADIATES corruption and Colleen is very much entrenched in the downworld of NYC, where the rich powerful elite hurt the most. Plus, Danny doesn't give up on people easily and honestly, he kind of sucks at taking a hint - if he went off to some Rand business with the in with Joy, he would still end up in all the Harold mess, and probably at some point be on the run (maybe with another person - oooh, would love to see that AU - Joy or Ward or both in tow with Danny on the streets, fleeing trouble, Danny saying "I know a place") and showing up at Colleen's door, like "I know you don't want any part of this, and I don't mean to bring trouble to your door, but there's nowhere else to go," and Colleen being like "get in, quick," with her windows already half shuttered and supplies on the table because she was already investigating herself - (it could turn into a whole thing, with Colleen having connections that she thinks she can trust to help them against the big bad Harold/Meachum conspiracy, but then it's the Hand, and-!)

Danny: "The Meachum family might think I'm a threat to them." Colleen: "And why would they think that?" Danny: "Because I'm Danny Rand and I own more than half the company." Me: "And also because you stalked Joy, broke into her house and their offices, terrified and almost killed Ward???"

But anyway this is only gonna fuel Colleen's narrative that this is all greedy corporate machinations and bloody rich people politics. (Literally bloody. Literally murder people in a "problem solving" way kind of bloody.)

GODDDD Colleen is so hot in this scene when she walks into Joy's office with her pushed up sleeves on her chinese bomber jacket and her shirt tucked into her rolled up pants and - her hands in her pockets and that black bracelet and the belt - !

This argument between Joy and Ward is so emotionally charged - Ward's now in a desperate position because Joy has no way of knowing that she has just become an obstacle to something that he can't allow to happen - because Harold can not allow it to happen, and he's pulling Ward's strings, and then - ! "What are you so afraid of, Ward?" It's Harold, he's afraid of Harold. "You should be more like Dad." Ugh. ugh! Shot through the heart! "Grow some balls." I'm crying. They've both learned such terrible things from their father.

GDI DANNY the doctor BELIEVED you and then you had to go start talking about alternate planes of existence and the Iron Fist UGH he thinks you're just trying to cope with the trauma I - UGH.

This doctor is honestly trying to help but he's confirming all of Danny's fears from what Simon told him about how this place operates.

Ward regularly has to come up with ways to convince an entire board to do weird things that Harold asks - like purchase some random warehouses in Brooklyn - without even knowing why

Ward: "'Danny' is a threat to us, to our family, to our business, and the smartest solution - the one YOU taught me - is to get rid of the problem as expediently as possible!" Harold: "No, protect him." Ward: "WHY?! I am asking you why. Explain it to me! Because from where I'm standing, protecting him is dangerous, and getting rid of him is safe!" Harold: "Because I said so, that's why. Now heel." Honestly, of COURSE Ward takes this into his own hands.

Ah, yes, our first glimpse at Ward's drug addiction.

What is their plan????? Just beat him to death!? Can't make it quick - why?? Are they trying to make it look like a simple altercation between inmates???

"Ward Meachum sends his regards." God, that's so heartbreaking. The idea that not only does Ward believe Danny is an imposter and a threat, enough to try to kill him and then to send him to a mental institution - but that once he's there, out of harm's way, if he IS a mentally unstable imposter - OR once proof is starting to trickle to the Meachums (in colorful chocolate form) that he actually IS their old friend Danny - that Big Brother Ward would go out of his way to strike a deal with some "low life mental hospital thugs" to beat Danny to death?? This moment, to Danny, must feel like a bigger betrayal to Danny by Ward than anything else so far.

Danny, on all fours, looks up at the full moon outside the window, at the hawk silhouette streaking across it, and smiles. Hawk as Danny's spirit guide AU cont., but ALSO: WEREWOLF AU WEREWOLF AU WEREWOLF AU

Danny. Danny. Please run. Busting a huge hole in the wall made a very loud noise, please stop just standing there and giving people time to catch up.

#iron fist #iron fist rewatch #shadow hawk takes flight #my stuff #the immortal iron fist

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corvidexoskeleton · 3 years

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Gonna send in a bit more for Derrick this time because he deserves it: 2, 8, 15, 18, 23, 26, 32, 34, 38, 44, 49?

Sure

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

Hmm I’m not sure what rank the average sniper would be, honestly, and I really don’t care enough about the US military to spend an hour or two looking it up, because god knows I’m just gonna get distracted and confused

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

No pets growing up, but did look after Darryl’s dog from time to time in the years before the war, and probably hangs out with Dogmeat when he’s not off with Darryl

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

He does his best, but he might need some help. Whatever he makes will taste better if he’s got someone else there to give him a hand, and will likely enjoy cooking more if he’s got help, but is mostly indifferent on his own. Has a tendency to royally fuck up if he gets distracted, so it’s best to try not to do so

18. What’s their favorite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else

Liked sci-fi/adventure books when he was a kid, same with movies/shows, some rpg games/first person shooters. Listens to a lot of rock because of how much time he spent with Darryl when he was growing up, but will listen to most anything if it sounds good. Doesn’t really like metal/really heavy shit, though

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

Meh, it’s not the best memory, but it’s good enough that he can remember /most/ things. He’s good with faces, but not so much names. Will recognize someone from across the room within a second or so, but would be hard pressed to recall their name if it didn’t stand out to him the first few times

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

It’s not that difficult to tell if he’s in a good mood, since he’s a relatively cheerful person and smiles a lot when he is. Has to tell himself to tone it down, though, so he doesn’t get too carried away. He won’t sing or dance or anything, but he likes to talk to people if he can

32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like?

Shit, well, for pre war, I’m not super sure. Would absolutely be the type of person to unironically wear a denim jacket over a faded graphic tee. Has a bunch of shirts/a pair or two of pants that he would wear specifically while doing mechanic work after leaving the military, since they’d be the primary victims of grease stains and tears from accidents. Will also wear button ups over another shirt and jeans

Will usually just wear underwear to bed. Post war, leaves socks and a shirt on in case he ends up getting woken up or needs to leave in a hurry. Doesn’t actively wear makeup, but won’t say no if someone wants to put some on him, and will probably like the end result. Hair is pretty thick and hangs down over his face, and usually messy. Tries to comb it back out of his face with his hands, fails spectacularly. Usually sports a little bit of scruff, but doesn’t like having to take care of it if it gets any longer

34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body?

I’m not sure if I’m remembering this right or not, but I think I originally said he was about 6 foot? So about 182 cm? Not that bulky, but when he was still active and actually exercised regularly he had a decent amount of muscle. Not so much anymore, though. I swear, one day I’ll get around to actually drawing him and Darryl out

Anyways, he’s fine with his body. Doesn’t think it’s particularly exceptional, but it doesn’t bother him any. Kinda wishes he could be more active and is pretty annoyed with how his fucked up knee will keep him from doing stuff he wants to do, but he’s gotten used to it over the years

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Admires people who can keep things from bothering them the way they would normally bother him. Greatly appreciates people who actually choose to friendly/not an asshole, but also admires when other people don’t take any shit or let others walk on them

Sometimes wishes he was a less empathetic, since it can be a real bitch at times, but dislikes of thought of caring less about others. Also wishes that he had been better about standing up for himself when he was little, but is incredibly grateful to Darryl for actually taking the time to help him out and trying to teach him to stand up

44. What is their favorite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most?

He likes the fall the most, since he thinks it’s the prettiest, and also likes having an excuse to dress up more warmly, and also just really likes the general vibes of it. Favorite weather would probably be one of those days where the sun is out, there’s a few clouds, but is also just cold and crisp enough to need to a jacket and/or a hat. Also really likes when it rains. He can deal with both heat and cold, but does better in the cold. Won’t complain about heat unless it’s scorching out

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

Not sure there’d be any one object that holds the most value, or would want to take everywhere, but he places sentimental value on a lot of seemingly insignificant stuff. Random gifts from over the years, pictures, cards, ticket stubs, anything he feels could have some kind of connection to someone he cares/cared about. Will probably keep them either on a shelf somewhere or in a drawer, so he doesn’t lose them

#ask #answered #rockshortage #fallout #derrick murphey #please be nice to him he's doing his best #i spent a solid half hour looking up an answer for the first one but had to stop once i realized i had gone from #looking up military ranks to shit that was completely off topic

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the-caldwell-family · 4 years

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Prompt Writing

Hey guys, what's up? I'm back and horribly procrastinating writing. The good news is that I procrastinated writing so much to the point of going back to writing. I saw a prompt I liked on instagram and decided I wanted to write it, so here it is. It's silly and stupid and really meant to be more of a writing exercise, but I liked it, so I decided you share it with you guys. Hope you enjoy it!

Based on this prompt:

Story below the break!

He had a problem.

Okay, that was wrong. It wasn't a problem, so much as an issue. Just a tiny, little issue that can be fixed in an instant. There was no reason to panic. No reason at all.

The flame reached the cabinet.

Nevermind, it was time to panic. He scrambled off the floor and rushed for his phone. His fingers shook as he put in his password and searched his contacts. He clicked the first one he saw. The phone rang against his ear before he could have the thought to check who he had called. It was unnecessary, anyways, he would have recognized the slurring voice that answered from anywhere.

"'ello?"

He lifted the phone from his ear to check the time. 1:32 am. Shit. Drew was going to kill him for waking her up so early. He couldn't back out now, though. The flames were charring the bottom of the cabinet now and he was definitely not getting his security deposit back. He took a deep breath, and braced for impact.

"So, we may have a problem."

"A problem?"

"Yeah."

"Let me guess. You caused it?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that–" He cut off with a yelp as the stove threw out more sparks. "Okay, I absolutely caused it and now I don't know how to fix it. Hello? Hello?" He dropped the phone from his ear, and his contact list stared back at him. He groaned and threw his head back against the wall. Of course she hung up on him. Of course. The fire beside him whooshed dramatically, but he was already getting sick of it. Dialing the number underneath Drew's, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited.

Just as he heard another, "Josh?" in his ear, the glass besides the stove shattered, the sound echoing in the relatively small kitchen. "What the fuck was that?" the voice demanded. Trust Darryl to have his priorities in order.

"Hey, so you won't believe this, but we have another problem." The words barely left his mouth before he regretted it.

"No, no. WE don't have a problem. You have a problem, and I have an idiot who keeps getting into them." Josh tried to interrupt because he did not get into that many problems, but he was cut off.

"Please, there's a fire and I don't know what to do. They never went over this in high school."

"What do you mean fire? Hell if I know what to do, pour water on it or something. Try calling Randy, he probably knows what to do." The call ended as the other glass on the counter exploded.

He decided to do as Darryl said and rushed to the sink. The handles were warm, but they still poured water, which was a blessing he'd take. Filling a cup, he threw the water at the fire, which absolutely did not help. Why was the fire getting bigger?

He did not sign up for this. He just wanted to do the right thing, and now he was in the middle of an inferno with no friends that wanted to help. Though Darryl did have one good point: Randy would probably be able to help with this. He designed kitchens, which was close enough. Scrolling to the 'R' section, he pressed on Randy's icon.

The phone dialed for so long, he thought Randy wouldn't pick up, but a second before he was going to give up, Randy's voice filtered through the phone. "What do you want this time?" He was screaming into the phone, and the sound of deafening party music filtered through. Josh knew exactly where Randy was. He spent more time at Elizabeth's Bar than he did at home, which was amazing because he worked from home.

He didn't even try to soften the blow. "We've got a problem."

"And it's Tuesday, what's your point?" The response was immediate that it took a second for Josh to answer. The second was enough time for another person to join the conversation.

"What's happening over here?" Kevin asked. Of course Kevin was there. Randy rarely went anywhere without Kevin, especially Elizabeth's. He didn't understand what they did there all day. They could hardly pick up strangers after they declared their relationship exclusive. He wondered if they just sat at the bar all day and made friends. He almost laughed at the picture in his head. Randy with his thick leather jacket and cowboy boots chatting about the weather at the bar. Or Kevin stuttering through an explanation of planetary orbits. God, they were perfect for each other. The smell of burning wood brought him out of his semi-hysterical thoughts and back into the conversation, which hasn't progressed at all.

"Joshie's got a problem."

"Of course he does. Give me second, I'm not nearly drunk enough to listen to this yet." Josh heard Kevin order another round and Randy ask to double it.

"Guys, not helping." The cabinets were definitely not fixable at this point. It was sunken in a way it hadn't been this morning. "Just, what do you know about putting out an oil fire?" His words met silence, the party music louder in the absence of voices. He could admit there was a better way to have said that, but he was in a bit of a hurry. The smoke was starting to choke, and the fire was still not any closer to being put out. "Hello?" he repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time today.

"Sorry, I thought I heard you say there was a fire." Josh winced. Kevin did not sound happy, and it was never a good day when Kevin wasn't happy.

"I know, I know, but there really isn't time for your lecture today, professor. Just, any suggestions 'cause my cabinets are not supposed to look like that. I tried throwing water on it, but I think it just got bigger." A sharp laugh came through the speakers, a harsh sound compared to Randy's other laughs. Josh winced again and hoped they'd help soon. He was in for a long lecture come tomorrow, but he had to see through tonight before he even started worrying about that.

"You idiot, water's not going to help. It's fucking grease. Here, hold on, let me get Elizabeth, she'll probably know what to do. Elizabeth!" Josh had to hold the phone away from his ear from the sheer force of the yell. It somehow managed to overpower the noise of the ever-growing blaze beside him. After what seemed like an hour, but logically couldn't be more than a few minutes, Elizabeth's complaining became clear.

"What do you bums want? I've got a job, unlike you lazy sacks of shit." Her words produced the strongest image in his mind: a hip cocked to the side, hands lazily wiping at a cup that was mostly there for show, bushy red hair barely staying contained behind her head. He wondered if he was hallucinating from all the smoke.

"Josh has a problem. Again." Which was unfair, he did not have that many problems. Everyone was over-exaggerating a bit too much, and Kevin was just angry about the broken mug from last week. He had no way of knowing that it was his favorite mug.

"If you meant the leaky pipe under the sink, that's the solution to last week's problem. How he managed to get a chicken bone stuck in his pipe is a mystery I never plan to solve." Josh didn't even know there was a leaky pipe under his sink, but he'd have to take her word for it until the kitchen wasn't on fire.

When Randy didn't laugh at Elizabeth's weak attempt at a joke, Josh knew he was in the dog house. Literally soon, if someone doesn't help him with this fire. "His house is on fire."

Which, no. "Not my house, just my kitchen. My stove. The grease caught on fire, and now the fire won't go down."

Elizabeth let out a string of curses that were definitely not all English. He hadn't even known she spoke another language. The more you know.

The cabinet above the stove began to make creaking noises that sounded suspicious, and he really couldn't waste anymore time. "I swear I'll invite you all over tomorrow to yell at me, but I need a house to invite you, so could someone please tell me what to do."

"You idiot! What the fuck were you cooking at one in the morning? Don't answer that, numb-nuts." Josh wondered if he was that predictable or if Elizabeth had telepathic powers. "Did you turn the stove off?"

Josh scoffed lightly. "Of course I did. I'm not that stupid."

"I wouldn't say that." Josh really needed Kevin to let that mug go. An unhappy Kevin was an unhappy Randy and he couldn't take that kind of stress in his life. Especially not with a kitchen currently on fire.

"How big's the fire?" He needed to remember to send a gift basket to Elizabeth. Or maybe he should just pay his tab at the bar.

"Well my cabinet definitely needs to be replaced, but it hasn't reached the ceiling yet, so I'm calling it a win."

"You idiot," she repeated. "Spray it with a fire extinguisher."

The sudden laughter that boomed through the phone startled him, but he should have expected it. He really needed new friends, not friends who hung up on him or laughed while he faced death. Randy spoke through his chuckling, "You really think he has a fire extinguisher at his house? The only reason he had a stove is 'cause it came with the house. He'd buy takeout everyday if he had the money." He couldn't even deny it; he really did eat takeout for a month straight until he had run out of money and resorted to stealing food from his friends' fridges. More importantly, though, was that they were right about the fire extinguisher.

"Any of you guys got a spare extinguisher I can use?" If possible, the laughter got louder, and Josh could really use some support right now.

"You live like twenty minutes away, what good does that do you? Go to your neighbors, borrow his." God, he could kiss Elizabeth right now. Wait, nevermind, he definitely could not. He would pay his bar tab, though. "God, I'm surrounded by fucking idiots."

"Okay, stay," he said to his inanimate phone before running out his front door to his neighbor Jeffrey's door. He knocked rapidly, and only realized the time when Jeffrey opened the door with a glare. His deadbolt stayed locked, but it felt more like it was protecting him than it was protecting Jeffrey.

"If you don't give me an acceptable reason for waking me up at one in the morning, I will shoot you right now."

He felt like a naughty student being stared down by the principal. "I, uh, I have a bit of a problem."

"Would shooting you solve the problem? No? Then leave." That was not an empty threat, as he had found out last year when he had needed sugar. The landlord was still angry about the bullet hole in the wall. Jeffrey started to close the door, but Josh stuck his foot against it. A horrible idea in hindsight when his foot got painfully squished between the door and the wall.

"Just, do you have a fire extinguisher?"

Jeffrey's brow furrowed. "A fire extinguisher? What for?"

"Extinguishing a fire." Jeffrey's stare held the promise of a thousand deaths. All he wanted was to put out the fire in his kitchen, and now he was going to die.

The staring contest lasted another minute, a minute where he really thought he was going to die, but Jeffrey just disappeared into his apartment and came back with a shiny fire extinguisher in his hand. "If you burn down the building, I will make good on my promises." God, he really needed new friends.

Extinguisher in hand, he squared his shoulders and braced for battle. The door to his apartment had stayed open after he'd left, and the light from the fire illuminated the walls. Somehow, the cabinet had stayed stable despite its completely charred bottom, but its creaking noises were not hopeful. Ignoring the screaming from his phone, he aimed the nozzle at the fire and squeezed on the handles, bracing for kick-back. Nothing. The trigger wouldn't move, and the fire kept burning around him. He decided he was going to take a fire safety class after this. Maybe even get a fire extinguisher for the apartment.

The fire grew in size with a loud crack. He grabbed his phone off the counter, and put it up to his ear. "I think it's broken, it won't spray."

Elizabeth, as always, was the voice of reason. "Let me guess, you didn't pull the pin, did you?" He stayed silent, which was answer enough. It wasn't like he'd ever needed a fire extinguisher before. Or at least, he'd never had to be the one to use it. "There's a pin in the top, pull it out, then aim and spray." She was shouting again as the music around her grew louder. It almost felt like she was in another world, his own consisting only of the room around him and the fire blazing in front of him.

He found the pin with a victorious shout and pulled it out. He yelled out a thanks to the phone as he set it down again. He managed to hear Elizabeth's final shout to spray side-to-side, which seemed pretty specific, but he couldn't fault her advice now. The sudden burst of foam almost threw him off his feet, but he planted them wide and set to spraying the fire, which was much harder than he expected. The nozzle was ridiculously hard to control, so it took a minute of trying to get it aimed at the stove.

The room was filling with shades of white, smoke and foam mixing in a weird combination that reminded him of flying through a cloud. He pressed on the handles as long as he could, until the foam came out uneven. He couldn't see any flames left, though he couldn't see much of anything in his kitchen.

The counter and stove were invisible beneath the sea of foam. The cabinets, previously a dark brown, looked as white as the stove below it, though he could still see the charred black surface shining through. He panted, standing in the middle of his kitchen at one in the morning, wearing pajamas and staring at the ruined remains of his once clean stove.

A buzzing from the counter drew his attention away from the cloud he'd created. Elizabeth had ended the call, and was now video calling him. He answered, not taking his eyes off the disaster in front of him.

"How'd it go?" Randy's voice was light-hearted, but unexplainably gruff. It barely registered in his mind, and he flipped the camera. The foam seemed to have grown in the few seconds it had been there, and the entire countertop was hidden under it. Randy let out a low whistle. "Houston, we have a problem."

He felt a smile grow on his face. Maybe he was hysterical, maybe he breathed in too much smoke and foam, but nothing could stop the laugh that bubbled up his throat. Standing in the middle of a charred, foam-covered kitchen, a stupid, wide grin plastered on his face, he said, "You call it a problem, I call it a solution."

#writing #writing blog #writblr #writeblr #writing prompt #prompt fill #dialogue prompt #short story #im trying guys i swear #i'm procrastinating

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sweetsameli · 4 years

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Chapter three: It Is Not My Place to Judge

After getting dressed, I slowly head to the galley; hoping to find it empty. Luckily, it was. I start searching for something to eat, finding the cabinets filled with a variety of food. I’m unsure of what I can take so I just grab a ration bar and sit down at the table, starting to eat it. I feel... unsettled. I’ve never had a vision turn into a dream, or make me fall asleep during meditation for that matter. I let my head hang, a little in embarrassed. Darryl must have come to see if I was alright and found me asleep on the ground, unless I slept walk to the bed. I bring my head up and rest it against my hand, staring at the ration bar. Which, I kind of doubt since I was in the middle of a vision/dream thing. A smile comes to my lips. How thoughtful of him.

“Whatchya smiling for?” I hear Darryl’s voice come through my train of thought. I turn my head to see him walking in. His face is covered in grease, kind of defining his very sharp, square jawline and I also notice his chin has a small dimple in it. He isn’t wearing his jacket so his tunic is also covered in grease, and revealing some of his bare chest. He wipes his hands with a rag.

“Oh, um nothing. Just thinking of some good memories from my time at the temple.” I hastily lie. Ugh. He gives me a disbelieving look but doesn’t pursue to question it.

“Hmm. Alright. Well, I’m working on your ship to pass the time till we get to Lothal. I could use a pair of hands?” He goes to the big chill box and pulls out some sort of drink, coming back over to the table to sit down. I watch him as he does that and contemplate whether I should ask him if he did in fact put me in my bed or should just leave it alone.

“Um... So... Uh did you put me to bed last night?” the words slip out before I even finished contemplating. Well, dammit. “I uh only ask because I woke up in the bed instead of being on the floor where I was meditating.” He looks at me and takes a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I did. I heard some noise from your room. I forgot to have you lock it so it opened up for me when I got to it and there you were, collapsed on the ground. I tried to wake you but you were dead asleep so I thought it would be best if I just put you in the bed.” He says nonchalantly. I nod.

“Ah. Okay, well thank you. That was... very kind of you.” I smile. “What else needs to be fixed on my ship anyways?” He scoffs.

“Plenty. The nebula really did live up to its name. I don’t even have life support back up yet because the engine keeps breaking somewhere else.” He narrows his eyes at me. “Do you know how to fix ships?”

“Kind of? I know enough to get systems up and running, but repairing engines and such... not so much.” He nods, taking another sip from the drink.

“Good. You can start on the systems for your ship then. I’ll keep working on the engines and hyperdrive.” He finishes his drink quickly and gets up. “And then maybe after this, we can start working on my ship.” He teases at me, smiling. He starts walking towards where my ship is and I get up to follow. We pass by a locker and he stops at, opening it up and pulling out some rebreather masks. He hands me one and I take it, putting it on. He puts on one himself and opens the hatch to where my ship is at, stepping inside. I follow after him, it’s a tight fit. I take a look around and the lights seem to be on but it feels...hollow in here.

“At least the lights work?” I say jokingly, the mask muffling my voice and Darryl doesn’t respond. He is ducking under a bulkhead and going to the back of the ship. I follow him, not really having to duck as much as him. The lights seem to get darker and go to a red color and we finally get to the engine pod area. The engines look like they took a lot more damage than the outer hull took.

“I can’t actually fit through the duct that leads to the cockpit because the other way is blocked.” He then turns around and looks at me sheepishly.

“Why do I get the feeling that I was gonna help no matter if I knew how to fix ships or not?” I fold my arms across my chest and lean to the side a little.

“Ha, you got me.” He rubs the back of his head. “What can I say? Can’t really change my height now.” I only give a grunt in response and crawl up towards the duct. I cast out my sight to see what duct I need to get too. I feel like a kowakian monkey-lizard swinging around to get to the correct duct. I pull myself up into the duct and crawl through it. He’s lucky that he is charming. I hate crawling through tight spaces. I let out an annoyed huff and continue to crawl till I finally reach the cockpit and slide out of the duct, landing on the ground behind the chair. I get up, dusting myself off and turn around to face the panels. They blink at random intervals and I go to the computer near the pilot chair, pulling up a systems report.

It reads ‘Engine pod 1 and 2 offline. Navicomputer offline. Life-support and environmental controls offline. Shields offline. Comm system offline’ The list continues on and I groan.

“Why don’t I just sell you then? Be someone else’s problem.” I ridicule the ship. Then sigh and start pulling up the systems I can fix.

After working for a while, my back starts to ache and I stretch, hearing my spine make some very satisfying pops. I shake my hands to regain some feeling in them and stand up from the kneeling position I got myself into. Tapping on the screen and pulling up the systems report, I read over what is still offline.

‘Engine pod 2 offline. Navicomputer offline. Shields offline.’ The list goes on for a bit. Ugh, I have only managed to fix life-support, environmental and maybe a few other things but there still a lot more to do. It does look like Darryl was able to get at least one engine pod fixed and I think maybe the hyperdrive. I should go take a break. I pull myself up into the duct and start to crawl back towards the engine pods. Popping my head through I only see Darryl’s legs poking from underneath one of the engine pods, bent at an awkward angle. I smile mischievously. I should scare him. I grab the bar ahead of me and pull out of the duct slowly, landing silently on the ground. Prowling towards him, I lean close to the opening where he is poking from.

“Hey whatchya doin!?” I hear him thwack his head against the engine, swearing something in Huttese and I hold back a chuckle. I move aside as he starts to move out from underneath the engine and he is glaring at me with strong intensity. His face is covered in grease, so I can’t tell if he injured but I can tell he wasn’t too pleased with being startled. I give him a flat smile. He shakes his head and stands up.

“What was that for?” Darryl rubs his face, making the grease smudge around. I snort a little and then clear my throat. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. You just got a little something,” I point to a part of my face to indicate where a smudge mark is at and he tries to wipe at the spot but it just makes a bigger mess. I smile again. “Yeah, okay. You got it.” He gives me a dubious look. “Sorry, I got a little bored. I wanted to see if I could sneak up on you,”

“Hmm. Well, that won’t happen again.” He gives me a studied look. “Oh, and you’ve got something here.” He points to my face, near my cheek and I touch there, trying to rub at it then looking at my hand. Nothing has rubbed off onto my hand and he just smiles. “Here, let me get it for you.” He tries to rub my face with his hand and I just jump back, yelping a little. He laughs at me and I sigh annoyed. Damn, he almost got me. How dare he try to turn around use my trick on me. I look away and feel something fall off my head. His laughter stops and there is just silence between us. “Whoa.” He finally speaks up.

“What?” I say, slightly startled by the break in silence.

“Your hair...” I blush now, realizing that my cloth hood fell off. I reach up to touch my hair, making sure it wasn’t wild or something but it only felt coarse and slightly greasy. I cringe. Ugh, I need to use the refresher.

“I’m sorry, I probably smell huh?” I kneel down, grabbing my hood and standing back up.

“No, it’s just that... It’s nice.” He smiles softly. “Is that natural or dyed orange? And is the violet also dyed?” I feel a bit self-conscious.

“Oh, uh no. All of it is natural. It’s a rare trait among my people.... My parents told me I got it from my great-great grandpa. He, too, was a... Strong force user. It’s why I was sent to the Jedi temple actually.” He nods and reaches over hesitantly, undoing the tie that holds my hair back into a braid and my hair slowly twirls’ out and he tilts his head to the side. I try to read his emotions but they feel blocked or maybe I’m too nervous to sense them.

“You should keep it down. It really compliments your face.” he says in a low, alluring voice. I feel heat rising up to my cheeks and a ping go through my heart. I am at a loss for words when normally in this situation I am the one who acts like this. Well, maybe not so... direct. I smile finally and put the hood back on. My nervousness still there in my stomach.

“Maybe I will keep it down. I’ll... think about it.” I hold out my hand, waiting for the hair tie. Darryl hands it back and looks away, his cheeks look a deeper color.

“Let’s go take a break.” He starts to head out back towards where my ship is attached to his and I follow behind.

That’s when I get struck with a feeling of wholeness. An odd feeling, one that I haven’t felt since I left to become a Jedi. It felt... strange but nice. That’s when I realize, the heat in my cheeks hasn’t faded and I shake my head. No passion, no attachments. Remember? I sigh, tilting my head down. Plus, I just met him. Darryl probably doesn’t even think of me like that. I’m a Jedi and he is womanizing, lying, laser brain scoundrel. I grit my teeth together and trudge to my quarters. Before I reach my door though, Darryl grabs my shoulder gently and I look at him; he then lets’ go and smiles at me.

“Just so you know, the refresher is just down there.” He points to a door that is a few feet from the galley and I nod my head.

“Thanks...” He starts to walk towards there. “Wait.” He stops and turns around. “Do you have... an area where I can... possibly train?” He raises an eye brow.

“Why, planning on staying for a while?”

“Yeah, probably. I mean, it’s going to take a while for us to finish my ship, right?” He nods. “Okay well, I haven’t trained for some time and I could really use the practice.” He smirks, and tilts his head to the side.

“Well I do have an area where I like to exercise. It should be big enough for you to practice in.” He starts walking towards the cockpit and I follow behind him. He takes a sharp turn before going into the cockpit and walks towards what looks like it was previously a storage room. It is filled with shut down practice drones, different weights scattered on the ground, a mirror covering one side of the room and some practice swords. The room even has a large mat in the middle to practice on. I nod my head slowly.

“This should do. May I use it?”

“Sure. Go ahead.” He smiles and heads back to where the refresher is at.

I walk into the room more and take off my hood, placing it near the rack of practice swords. I look at the mirror and stand up straight, looking myself over. My normal blue Jedi robes are charred mostly on the left side, the sleeve almost gone. I frown. I didn’t realize they were this bad. Good thing Darryl gave me that poncho before I went out looking like this... I look at my reflected face and see part of my cloth visor is burnt and pain aches through my chest.

A memory flashes by, Ly’lis coming up to me after we just finished our Jedi Knight trials and she seems excited. She hugs me and after pulling back from the hug, is holding out a box. I take the box and open it, revealing a red cloth with intricate gold patterns. I smile big at her and hug her again.

I touch where the cloth is brunt and a sad smile comes to my lips. I’m sorry Ly’lis. I bet if you saw this, you would just get me another... but I would just feel so awful if you had to go and spend more credits on me. I take in a breath and let it out slowly, grabbing a practice sword. I turn around and start to practice my forms.

About an hour later, I'm in the middle of practicing my second form when I sense Darryl coming to the doorway. I continue and he leans against the frame, watching me. I sense from him a feeling of wonderment. I finish the form and he comes over to me, clapping softly.

“Very nice. Do you wanna spar with me?” He smirks, smugness overcoming his wonderment from earlier. I look at him and notice he is in different clothes. The clothes seem to be a snug fit on him, the tunic being mid-sleeve and the pants coming up to about mid-calf. The outfit is all black.

“Can I change first?” I put the practice sword down.

“Oh, I only let that happen on the second date.” He waggles his eyebrows. I get a feeling of lust now and I seductively smile at him.

“You wish this was a date.” Slight shock comes from him but his face doesn’t show. I don’t blame him; shock is an understatement to how I feel. Whelp, that was kind of stupid but it looks like he didn’t mind too much. I start to take off my outfit, wearing similar clothing to Darryl, only the tunic is sleeveless and my pants come up to mid-thigh.

“Do you always come prepared to train if your clothes are too much?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.

“All Jedi do. ‘Be prepared for anything.’ First rule that was taught to me by my master.” I put the clothes next to my hood and come back to the mat, getting into a fighting stance. “Ready?” He gets into a fighting stance as well; one I slightly recognize. Huh, Reneji use to fight like that... “Do all Chiss use that fighting stance?”

“No. Only special Chiss use this stance.” He says, starting to circle me. I circle with him.

“What does that mean? ‘Special’ Chiss? Were you part of a cult or something?” He chuckles at my question.

“No.” He throws a punch at me and I dodge, countering with a leg sweep but he jumps over it, bringing his foot down to my head. I roll backwards and jump up. He looks back at me, smirking. “Hmm, very nice counter and dodge.” I smirk.

“Thanks. Now, what does it mean?” He comes at me, throwing punches again and I block them.

“If I tell you, will you judge me?” He hastily says. I block the last of his flurry of punches and round house kick toward him. He blocks, grabbing my leg, staring at me intensely.

“No. It is not my place to judge, especially since it seems like you haven’t judged me yet.” He twitches his lips to almost form a smile and flips me. I land on my butt, he’s about to get on top of me but I roll away just in time. Standing back up, I get into a fighting stance, he follows suit.

“I use to be a royal guardsman for the Queen of Csilla.” I look at him dumbfounded and he uses that moment to kick me in the stomach. I cover the area, letting out a cough and land on my butt again. “Don’t lose focus,” He holds out a hand to me, “Or your opponent will over-take you.” His smugness is washing over me like a tropical storm. I take his hand and pull him down using the momentum to pull me up. While still holding his hand, I put a foot on his chest to show defeat. I look down at him, smirking.

“I know.” He then smirks at me. I take my foot off him and back up a little.

“Huh, was not expecting that. I’ll remember that for next time. That is, if there is one.” He bows slightly. “Thanks for the sparring match. It’s nice to fight with an equal opponent.” I bow back to him.

“You’re welcome.” I straighten and look at him. “Is there any reason why you left? Isn’t being the Queens guardsman the best career you can get as a Chiss?” I walk over to my clothes and pick them up. He hasn’t really moved, just staring at the ground. He lets out a steady breath and straightens up.

“There is but I don’t really want to talk about it at the moment.” He looks at me, and I see something haunting flash across his eyes and I just nod. “Thanks. I’m going to the galley to make some food; would you like me to prepare you anything?” He heads for the door, stopping at the doorway.

“Oh, sure. Just whatever it is you are having.” I say, walking towards him. We walk together into the galley and I break off, heading towards the refresher.

“Have a good shower.” He winks at me. I purse my lips together and head inside. I can’t tell if he likes me or is just giving me a false sense in order to get into bed with me. I shake my head at that thought and start taking my shower. I let the water just wash over me, I tilt my head down and look at my hands. My left hands looks’ scarred and slightly red. I close it into a fist and a dull pain comes through but I don’t feel anything else. That’s when it hits me. I haven’t had a headache today... I turn my head up and look around. I put my hand out, feeling the flow of the force go through my body and the water starts to slow down. I pull my hand back and smile, the water returning to normal. It felt nice to have the force flow through me again.

I hadn’t felt it this strong since I first landed on the moon of Yavin 4. It was where I had that dark vision for the first time and I pulled away from it. That gets me thinking... I hadn’t really had a full vision since then either. It was only that one I was having, and I kept running away from it. I bite my lip and realize that... I was rejecting the vision, rejecting the force. No wonder I couldn’t deflect that blaster bolt... I inadvertently cut myself from the force. I shake my head and smack my forehead. Idiot. I grit my teeth, and finish up with my shower.

I step out and realize I have to put back on my dirty clothes and I cringe. I grab a towel, wrapping myself up and then cast my sight to see outside of the door. I see Darryl still working on the food, seeming focused. I chew on my lips. My bag is in my ship... what is wrong with me? Why didn’t I grab the stupid thing while I was on there? I huff and open the door, quickly walking to the hatch that leads to my ship.

“Oh good, you’re done. I’m almost done with the food.” Darryl says, I turn around to see if he is facing me but he hasn’t turn around yet.

“Okay, good. I’ll be right back. I just gotta get something from my ship.” I say quickly.

“To get some clothes, I’m assuming?” heat raises to my cheeks again. Kriff, did he see me? I turn around but he hasn’t moved. “I’m just guessing since your other clothes are, you know, ruined?” I can sense sarcasm implicated in his tone and I let out a sigh.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll be quick.” I turn around and continue to the ship. Holding the towel close to me, I walk back towards the small cabin near the engines and look inside. My bag sits on the bed where I last left it. I open it up and pull out some clothes; a tunic that is teal, a grey vest to cover, a long black jacket, and a pair of pants that are a stiff light fabric beige colored, that are long. I pull out the boots that are black and very long and groan a little. That little womp rat. Ly’lis... She must’ve switched out my shoes when she was saying goodbye to me. I huff and start to dig through my bag, not finding any other shoes. I let my head drop, accepting defeat and starting to put my clothes on, leaving the hood down from the jacket. It all fits snuggly and I stare at the boots for a bit. I could just go bare foot... Why does she do this to me? Maybe next time I should just double check my bag. I’ve kept my clothes so well clean but no I had to get them all messed up and everything. Wait... there isn’t going to be a next time... It’s fine... Just clothing I'm not use to... I remember when she used to go off planet, she would dress up in fancy or suggestive clothing. Ly’lis never actually did anything with other beings, that was just what she was used to, how she grew up. I smile sadly to myself a little and finally just put the boots on. Then I remember that I never packed an extra pair of cloth visors. I’ll have to see if a shop on Lothal has any.

I walk back to the galley and see Darryl already eating at the table, the food looking like some master chef made it. I reach the table and sit where a plate is already made up for me.

“Did you really make this?” I ask, picking up the three-pronged fork and poking at the food. Darryl looks at me, raising an eye brow.

“I’m not that posh. I know how to cook, and very well thank you.” He says miffed. I turn my head to face him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant... well, you just seem so well off, why make the food when you can just have it already made and just have it rehydrated?” I say. He nods his head.

“Ah, well I hate that stuff. It tastes... bland. So, I try to keep more... fresher items on board.” He goes back to eating his food. I look back at the food and start to eat it. It tastes... rather good.

“Wow, this is... good.” I smile, taking another bite.

“Eh, you’ve been eating ration bars. I’m sure anything would taste good to you.” he flatly says.

“I’m offended that you would think I wouldn’t land on a planet to eat actual food every once in a while.” I teasingly say. He finishes his food and folds his hands underneath his chin.

“Oh really? Huh, thought you would’ve stayed away from market places and vendor shops in order to ‘stay on your path’?” He smiles teasingly at me. I purse my lips together.

“Well, maybe sometimes...” He chuckles at me.

“I’m going to ask you something, and please tell me if I am being too personal.” He looks at me with a gentle look. “How long have you been on this... quest?” I look at him, and then down at my food.

“You said when you found me it had been about two weeks, right? Well, before that I had been out for about... two months I believe.” I poke at my food now.

“All alone?”

“Yeah...” I rub my forehead a little. “When I left the temple... Not everyone agreed with how I treated the situation. They all thought of me as a...” I bite my lip, remembering the feelings I felt before I left the temple. Thoughts of being a traitor, and a coward came rampaging to me when the others found out that I was leaving the temple instead of choosing a side. I sigh shakily, running my hand through my slightly wet hair. Darryl touches my arm gently and I turn to look at his hand then at him.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me all of it.” I smile a little and then look past him, the memory of seeing Ly’lis, Reneji and Aydgage coming to see me off plays in my mind again. The look that Aydgage gives me at the hanger bay just before I leave also plays in my mind, sensing his longing. My stomach twists in knots and I suddenly don’t feel good anymore. I pull my arm away from Darryl's hand and I put both of my hands into my lap. This is ridiculous. Why am I feeling like this? This isn’t like me... “Hey, are you okay?” Darryl asks, breaking my spiraling pit of darkening thoughts. I shake my head.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry.” I start to get up, grabbing the plate. “Just not feeling good. Thanks for the food.” I go over to the cleaner and put my dish inside.

“Well I mean that is one way to put that you don’t like the food.” Darryl teases, but I sense he is kind of hurt by it.

“No, no. I loved the food but... just remembering what happened at the temple before I left...” I look over at him. “Brought up... unsettling feelings.” I take a shaky breath in. “I’m gonna go... meditate for a bit.” I walk to my quarters and this time, lock the door.

I kneel down and sit on my legs and bow head down. My feelings are in a state of chaotic disaster and I am trying to calm them down. Maybe if I had followed Revan, my feelings would be less out of control. I’d be able to let them be free and express them without feeling like I am not at peace with myself. That I am burdening others and making them feel concern about how I feel. But... at the same time... letting my feelings just go rampant and unchecked could lead to bad decision-making and burden others with a mistake I have made. I rub temples, my hair falling forward. I rub hands down my cheeks, keeping the finger tips on my jaw and tilt my head up to look at the ceiling. I can’t even focus now without thinking that leaving was a bad idea. I let my hands fall all the way to my lap and then I remember Darryl touching my arm. I look back down at the arm he touched and I smile. I remember how I felt earlier and my smile fades away. I put my hands in my lap and try to focus on meditating now.

I listen to thrum of the engine and hyperdrive, trying to focus again. There is no emotion, there is peace. My emotions start to calm down but I still feel a knot in my stomach. I let out a steady breath. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. I’m trying to clear my mind but Aydgage’s voice echo’s through my head, ‘...and may you come back to me, safely.’ The memory of him about to kiss me but instead kissing my forehead plays through mind over and over again. There is no passion, there is serenity. The fresher memory of Darryl pulling my hair tie out and touching my hair plays in my head, heat coming to my cheeks again. I clear my throat, shaking my head to get rid of the memory. There is no chaos, there is harmony. The message that Master Dauula gave me plays through my head, ‘Master Reneji has fallen... He has fallen at the hands... Aydgage...’ I bite my lip then let go, taking a shaky breath. There is no death, there is the force.

I feel a little less overwhelmed but I still have the knot in stomach. I concentrate on my feelings I felt when Revan and a lot of the Jedi Masters’ and Knights’ came back from the Mandalorian war. I was only a pawadan at the start of the Mandalorian war and wasn’t allowed to follow. I think about it more and a lot of the younger Jedi Knights are the ones who are wanting to follow Revan. What exactly did they see that makes them want to follow Revan? Was it the power he showed the rest of us when he got back? His new lightsaber which was dark red? The fact that he was able to control his anger while fighting? I keep thinking of more and more possibilities, my mind racing down each path but finding no end. I hear the door chime. I look over at the chronometer and notice that a full night has passed by. I stand up quickly and go over to the door, tapping the button to open it. Darryl is standing there, using one arm to prop himself up against the door, dressed in a different outfit then when I last some him; wearing similar clothing when I first met him but his tunic is black now and he is not wearing his jacket still.

“Hey...” He softly says, standing straight now. I can hear him think he wants to ask how I am doing, if I am alright but he pushes those thoughts away. “I made some breakfast, would you like some?” I smile slightly.

“Sure.” He moves out of the way, gesturing his hands to let me go ahead of him and I go to the galley, Darryl following behind. I see that there is some fruit and gridle cakes on the table and I go to sit down. “Wow, shuura and muja fruit... I haven’t had these in years.” I start putting food onto my plate.

“Years?” Darryl asks as he sits down, perturbed. “I thought that the temple would have stock full of fruits and vegetables?” He starts piling his plate full of food as well.

“Ehhh... not really. At first, we did, yes.” I start cutting into my food. “As the Mandalorian war went on though, we had to start rationing food at the temple and sending out packages of food to the other Jedi who were fighting in it.” I chuckle to myself a little. “I remember making a package with one of the other pawadan’s, Ly’lis.” I giggle to myself a little. “We had finished packing it but forgot to put the label that it was food and not data pads!” I laugh a little harder. I feel Darryls happiness radiate off of him.

“Did you guys get to it in time?” I look at him, he is smiling, enjoying the story I am telling. I chuckle again.

“No!” I laugh, holding my belly. “Master Dauula came to us later on that week and told us what happened. We got in trouble!” I keep laughing and laughs along.

“Were you a pawadan as well at the time?” He asks after the laughter dies down. I nod my head.

“Yes, I was.” I start eating my food again.

“I’m assuming that Master Dauula is the same one from that message that you first watched?” I nod slowly, remembering I have one message left to listen to.

“Yes. That was him.”

“What was he like?” I purse my lips together and tilt my head to look at him. Wait a minute. Why are we talking about me? I want to know more about him. That’s not fair.

“How about you tell me why you wanted to become a smuggler and I will tell you about Master Dauula?” I challenge him. He stares at me long and hard and sighs.

“It’s hard to have a staring contest with a Miraluka.” he smiles a little and eats more of his food. I hold back a chuckle, trying to stay my ground.

“Well, I mean yeah. We don’t exactly have eyes to stare at or with.” I hear him laugh in his throat but he clears it to cover his laughter. “Don’t choke on your food there.” I smile finally, going back to my food.

“Ask me another time, and maybe I will tell you.” He finishes his food. “Besides, I want to know more about you. It’s not every day I get to talk to a Jedi, a Miraluka Jedi at that.” I turn my head to look at him again.

“And it’s not every day I get to meet a Chiss smuggler, who was the Queens guardsman.” I take a sharp bite out of the gridle cake, but keeping my face turned towards him. He raises an eye brow.

“Alright. Fair enough.” He stands up, stretching a little. “But first, we work on your ship. I might tell you something after that. If,” he points to me, “We can get it up and running today.” He winks at me and grabs his plate, taking it to the cleaner. I sigh, slightly annoyed and finish eating.

“Fine.” I get up as well, grabbing my plate and going over to the cleaner as well.

“And no surprise scares. I managed to get rid of the bruise before it even formed.” He points to his forehead and I visibly bite my lip, smiling at the same time.

“Damn, okay. I’ll try not to.” I reluctantly say, pouting a little. He pushes my shoulder a little and walks to my ship. I follow behind him. I hear him think of a plan to get me back but then he remembers I can hear his thoughts and he no longer thinks of the plan. We walk up to the hatch and go inside.

“I’ll finish up the second engine pod and then see if I can bypass the door that is cutting us off from getting into the cockpit easier.” I nod my head and then stop, groaning. And I have to crawl back through those stupid ducts.

“You get the easy job.” I mumble under my breath and head over to the duct I crawled through last time. I hear Darryl say something but I choose to ignore him and head to the cockpit. I land in the cockpit again and start working on bypassing the systems.

* * *

I look over at the chronometer and do a double take as I noticed hours have passed by. I rub the back of my neck and look back at the system I was working on. I’m almost finished. I pull up the systems report again and it reports that shields I am working on are still offline. I breath in through my nose and breath out loudly through it. I don’t think I can fix while we are in hyperspace. I’m pretty sure it’s a part that needs be fixed and it can only be accessed through the outside of the ship. I run my hand through my hair. It feels a bit... odd. I’m not use to yet. I put my wrist in front of me and take the tie off, about to put my hair back into a braid. ‘You should keep it down. It really compliments your face...’ I hear Darryl’s voice echo in my head. I swallow a little and I pull my hair back into a ponytail instead. I start to pull myself up into the duct when I see the door open, Darryl standing there with a smug smirk on his face. I let go of the pole I was using to pull myself up and put my hands on my hips.

“About time you opened the door.” his mouth parts in disbelief and I walk past him, smiling as well. I hear him walk behind me.

“Well, next time you want to fly into nebula, I’ll just leave your ship alone then.” He teases at me, but I continue to smile.

#star wars #I do not own anything star wars btw #the old republic #Knight of the old republic #own characters #except for one #darth revan #first fanfic #give this story a like and i will keep posting more chapters

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