#tall baby-small baby solidarity

[to-the-head-of-the-line]

A few days ago Pat sent me a prompt about Fai's wife Hiu Yan's thoughts on the assassination and what she would say to him. I began working on something, but when Pat posted their writing I realised it was something else. So here's Part One aka the backstory to the actual prompt.

It's long.

Chui Hiu Yan (徐曉欣) was an ordinary woman, and she knew it. 

She had always known what she was going to do in life: obey her parents, get married off to an unknown man from another village, move there, have many sons, obey her husband, obey her husband’s family, obey her sons when they grow up, and take care of everyone else. Just like how it’s always been for generations of ordinary women. Some girls fit into their roles like a glove. Some girls try to fight against tradition and culture and are defeated. Some girls tolerate it and pretend that everything’s fine and they’re happy and bottle up all their frustrations and release them on their daughters. She thought she would be the latter.

Cheng Fai was also an ordinary man. He was the youngest son of a farmer; she is the middle daughter of another farmer. The two teenagers had never met each other before, and they were both nervous on their marriage day. But he was polite and gentle enough and her hand fit perfectly in his large, calloused yet warm hands. And when he smiled awkwardly there was something in his eyes that felt like home and made her heart flutter.

They didn’t fall in love immediately. It took them a while to get used to each other. But love just creeps up on you. When she complained about increased tariffs on cloth and gossipped about the Wongs before bed, and even though Fai had had a gruelling day in the fields and he had to deal with all the family’s troubles with the regional government, he still listened to her. He didn’t brush them off or yell at her to stop. He squeezed her hand and let her put her head on his shoulder. As they laid in the dark, listening to the chirping of the insects and their two hearts beating together as one, she realised she loved him. And he loved her too.

Cheng Hei was born a year later and they cried tears of joy. Fai had always wanted to be a father, and he was a good one. He never left their side after work. He never complained about the crying or the mess they made. Motherhood was tiring, but with her husband by her side, everything was worth it. And their efforts paid off, as Cheng Hei made it into his first year a healthy and happy baby. It seemed that all this was too good to be true. 

He didn’t want to leave her, and she didn’t want him to go. But the family needed the money. And they could tolerate a few years. So she acquiesced and convinced him they would be fine and they’d see each other again. Then he went off across the ocean with nothing but the hopes and dreams of their entire family on his shoulders, and a photo of their small family smiling together in his pocket.

He wrote to her every month, and although letters took almost two months to arrive, he still insisted. So every two months or so, when she’d go to town, she would immediately stop at the post office. She wasn’t the only one doing so, as most men in the village had gone to work in America. There was an unspoken solidarity between them, shown by nods and sympathetic glances. 

She’d only heard stories of trains before. Fai said they were giant iron carriages not driven by men or animals, but by a machine that produced loud noises and black smoke. It seemed terrifying. He was also fascinated by the tall, rectangular buildings he saw in the city. And there were so many people there, dressed in tight clothing and ridiculous hats. However, they were going to work in the mountains, but the scenery was also impressive, with miles and miles of rocks and valleys and trees as far as the eye could see. There was even snow on the mountaintops. And he was quite good at learning the language. He was always so optimistic and careful not to worry her. But she knew that it wasn’t easy for him, with the hard work he was doing, and the fact that there were dried tears that smudged the words and how he crossed out I miss you so much I wish I were back home with you and our son I want to see you right now I love you I love you I love you- 

The family was heartbroken when the accident happened. But the rest of them had jobs to do. She knew Fai was distraught, but he didn’t talk about it at all. He just talked more about the views. And how they were going to San Francisco to earn more money afterwards. She wanted to beg him to come back. But she knew that for the family to survive, he needed to keep working. So she kept waiting.

Cheng Hei asked about his father a lot. ‘Where is he?’ ‘Why isn’t he here?’ ‘When will he come back?’ She read him all the letters, but they didn’t satiate him. She helped him write to his father. Cheng Hei still isn’t satisfied. (It took him more than twenty years to realise that he had resented his father all these years for perceived abandonment, and another ten to forgive him and himself.) Still, two letters depart their village and two arrive. 

It had been thirteen years since she last saw her husband. Some had returned, but not as wealthy as they’d hoped to be. No one in their family has returned. She noticed that Fai’s letters were shorter, sadder and more secretive. He was working a number of jobs in San Francisco, but his descriptions of life in America were increasingly less enthusiastic. And he also mentioned something about his back. But one thing still remained the same: how much he wrote about missing her.

She should have refused to let him go. They could’ve run off to Hong Kong or Macau or Guangzhou or even further. Or they should’ve gone together. They should’ve faced all those troubles together, like what a husband and wife should do. Then an opportunity arose. 

He and his brothers wanted the whole family to move to America, but they could only take the boys first, including Cheng Hei. Something about legislation and it being easier for them. The whole family was excited. On one hand, they knew nothing about the United States other than the letters. Besides, they couldn’t bear to lose so many more. But on the other hand, with the current situation in the country… 

Her only child was extremely reluctant. And yes, it broke her heart to see him so frustrated, and the only thing left she loved was also being taken away from her. But it was all for the good of the family. And the dream they told her, like Fai and his father and brothers were told by the recruiters, was too good to be true, yet still seemed possible. They would start a new life there. Cheng Hei would go to a good school and find a good job; her dear son was too clever to be a farmer for the rest of his life. They would own another farm and even hire people to work the fields. They would just sit in the shade and watch as their other children played in the sun. And she gritted her teeth and smiled through the pain as her son was dragged away, instead of running after it like before. Only when the dust had faded did she start crying uncontrollably. 

Unsurprisingly, Cheng Hei was having a hard time adjusting. However, he wasn’t getting along with his father. He claimed Fai didn’t understand how he was feeling and he just was so angry at him for making him leave home. And he couldn’t comprehend why they had to listen to a man who they’d never seen for years, who had left them alone. She wanted to yell at him for saying those disrespectful things, but at the same time she just wished she could fly there and pull them back home and scream and cry at her boys. No, she couldn’t. She was being selfish. She’s sure Cheng Hei didn’t mean that. He was just homesick. She should’ve raised him better. Meanwhile, Fai stated how delighted he was to see his son, but he wouldn’t talk to him when he tried. But he was going to keep trying to connect with him. She cracked a smile at that. That was her husband alright.

A few years passed. The father and son relationship didn’t work out, but Cheng Hei graduated from boarding school and got a job as a clerk. Fai wrote that they had enough money to get her and the rest of the family to come over. They were ecstatic, and some were starting to pack in anticipation. For once, it seemed that things were finally going right for them.

Then the Chinese Exclusion Act was passed. 

All hope was lost. Fai’s oldest brother came home to five grown up children and a wife who passed away from the shock. His other brother Wai Jun and Cheng Hei wrote back about how displeased most Chinese were, but there was nothing they could do about it. They weren’t even allowed citizenship. 

It took half a year for Fai to start writing again, but they were only a few sentences long and emotionless. She was distressed. There was something wrong with him. Wai Jun said that Fai was acting odd. He would only leave his apartment for work, then stay inside the whole time. He wouldn’t let anyone in. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, not even Cheng Hei. Cheng Hei said the last time they spoke, Fai said he was going to do something about the act. And the last time they saw him, he had quit his job, cut his hair, and was wandering around. She was never particularly religious, but she prayed day and night for his safety. She just wanted to see him one last time in this world. She couldn’t lose him forever. 

It was a cold winter morning when the postman arrived. She ran outside and ripped open the envelope with trembling hands. It was from Cheng Hei. Then she read the first paragraph, and her heart stopped. This was only the first of several more heart attacks until her death four years later.

Part 2 (the actual prompt) coming soon!

#assassins musical ocs #leung cheng fai #do you know today is chinese valentine's day #more on that in part 2 #things pat missed #assassins ocs #I'm not tagging this in the main tag #Don't want to scare away people

[thxnews]

Israel's Battle for Peace: Ongoing Struggles

Exact Transcript of the Post Meeting Press Conference

PRIME MINISTER NETANYAHU:  Mr. Secretary, my good friend Tony, thank you for your important visit here today.  Thank you, thank President Biden, and thank you to the American people for your incredible support for Israel in our war against the barbarians of Hamas.  I thank you in English; I want to thank you in Hebrew as well. (In Hebrew.) Mr. Secretary, your visit is another tangible example of America’s unequivocal support for Israel.  Hamas has shown itself to be an enemy of civilization.  The massacring of young people in an outdoor music festival; the butchering of entire families; the murder of parents in front of their children and the murder of children in front of their parents; the burning of people alive; the beheadings; the kidnappings – of a young boy – not only kidnapped, molested, hurt, attacked; and the sickening display of celebrating these horrors, the celebration and glorification of evil. President Biden was absolutely correct in calling this “sheer evil.”  Hamas is ISIS, and just as ISIS was crushed, so too will Hamas be crushed.  And Hamas should be treated exactly the way ISIS was treated.  They should be spit out from the community of nations.  No leader should meet them.  No country should harbor them.  And those that do should be sanctioned. Tony, my friend, I say to you, I say to all of us:  There will be many difficult days ahead, but I have no doubt that the forces of civilization will win.  And the reason that’s true is because we understand what is the first prerequisite of victory.  It’s what you just said in our meeting: moral clarity.  This is a time – a particular time, a special time – that we must stand tall, proud, and united against evil. Tony, you are taking that stand.  America is taking that stand.  Thank you for being here today.  Thank you, America, for standing with Israel today, tomorrow, and always. SECRETARY BLINKEN:  Mr. Prime Minister, I’m grateful to be back in Israel in this incredibly difficult moment for this nation – but, in fact, for the entire world. If you’ll permit me a personal aside, I come before you not only as the United States Secretary of State, but also as a Jew.  My grandfather, Maurice Blinken, fled pogroms in Russia.  My stepfather, Samuel Pisar, survived concentration camps – Auschwitz, Dachau, Majdanek. So, Prime Minister, I understand on a personal level the harrowing echoes that Hamas’s massacres carry for Israeli Jews – indeed, for Jews everywhere. I also come before you as a husband and father of young children.  It’s impossible for me to look at the photos of families killed – such as the mother, father, and three small children murdered as they sheltered in their home in Kibbutz Nir Oz – and not think of my own children. This was just one of Hamas’s countless acts of terror – in a litany of brutality and inhumanity that, yes, brings to mind the worst of ISIS.  Babies slaughtered.  Bodies desecrated.  Young people burned alive.  Women raped.  Parents executed in front of their children, children in front of their parents.  How are we even to understand this, to digest this? And yet, at the same time – at the same time that we’ve been shocked by the depravity of Hamas, we’ve also been inspired by the bravery of Israel’s citizens: the grandfather, who drove over an hour to a kibbutz under siege, armed only with a pistol, and rescued his kids and grandkids; the mother who died shielding her teenage son with her body, giving her life to save his, giving him life for a second time; the volunteer security teams on the kibbutzes, who swiftly rallied to defend their friends and neighbors, despite being heavily outnumbered. And we are lifted by the remarkable solidarity of the Israeli people, demonstrated in the long lines of people giving blood, in the hundreds of thousands of reservists who’ve mobilized, some rushing home from abroad, people around the country opening their homes to fellow citizens displaced from the south. The people of Israel have long – and rightly – prided themselves on their self-reliance, on their ability to defend themselves, even when the odds are stacked against them. The message that I bring to Israel is this: You may be strong enough on your own to defend yourself – but as long as America exists, you will never, ever have to.  We will always be there, by your side. That’s the message that President Biden delivered to the prime minister from the moment this crisis began.  It’s the message that I and my other colleagues in the government have delivered to our Israeli counterparts on a daily – even an hourly – basis. It’s the message that I bring with me to our discussions today, and it’s what I’ll affirm when I meet with the members of Israel’s newly formed national emergency government.  We welcome the government’s creation and the unity and resolve that it reflects across Israel’s society. We’re delivering on our word – supplying ammunition, interceptors to replenish Israel’s Iron Dome, alongside other defense materiel.  The first shipments of U.S. military support have already arrived in Israel, and more is on the way. As Israel’s defense needs evolve, we will work with Congress to make sure that they’re met. And I can tell you there is overwhelming – overwhelming – bipartisan support in our Congress for Israel’s security. Here in Israel, and everywhere, we will reaffirm the crystal-clear warning that President Biden issued yesterday to any adversary – state or non-state – thinking of taking advantage of the current crisis to attack Israel:  Don’t.  The United States has Israel’s back. We’ve deployed the world’s largest aircraft carrier to the Eastern Mediterranean.  We’ve bolstered the presence of U.S. fighter aircraft in the region. We’re providing other support as well.  We continue working closely with Israel to secure the release of the men, women, children, elderly people taken hostage by Hamas. We’re pursuing intensive diplomacy throughout the region to prevent the conflict from spreading – and I’ll be doing that over the course of my trip in the coming days. Too often in the past, leaders have equivocated in the face of terrorist attacks against Israel and its people.  That’s why we’ve been adamant with all countries in the wake of these attacks:  There is no excuse, there is no justification for these atrocities. You heard the prime minister say it.  This is – this must be – a moment for moral clarity. The failure to unambiguously condemn terrorism puts at risk not only people in Israel, but people everywhere. Look at what just happened.  Individuals from 36 countries killed or missing in the aftermath of Hamas’s attacks.  Europe, Asia, Africa, the Americas – no region has escaped Hamas’s bloody reach. Anyone who wants peace and justice must condemn Hamas’s reign of terror. We know Hamas doesn’t represent the Palestinian people or their legitimate aspirations to live with equal measures of security, freedom, justice, opportunity, and dignity. We know Hamas – instead of promoting the well-being of its citizens – rules repressively and dedicates the resources it has to terror tunnels and rockets. We know Hamas didn’t commit its heinous acts with the interests of the Palestinian people in mind. We know Hamas does not stand for the future that Palestinians want for themselves and for their children. Hamas has only one agenda: to destroy Israel and to murder Jews. No country can or would tolerate the slaughter of its citizens – or simply return to the conditions that allowed it to take place.  Israel has the right – indeed, the obligation – to defend itself and to ensure that this never happens again. As the prime minister and I discussed, how Israel does this matters.  We democracies distinguish ourselves from terrorists by striving for a different standard – even when it’s difficult – and holding ourselves to account when we fall short.  Our humanity – the value that we place on human life and human dignity – that’s what makes us who we are.  And we count them among our greatest strengths. That’s why it’s so important to take every possible precaution to avoid harming civilians. And that’s why we mourn the loss of every innocent life, civilians of every faith, every nationality, who have been killed. Tragically, the number of innocent lives claimed by Hamas’s heinous attacks continues to rise.  Among those, we now know that at least 25 American citizens were killed.  We join families in Israel, in the United States, around the world in mourning their immeasurable loss. Nearly 15 years ago, my stepfather, who I alluded to earlier, Samuel Pisar, came here to Yad Vashem to perform the mourner’s prayer that he wrote to accompany Leonard Bernstein’s Third Symphony, “Kaddish.” Reflecting on the unspeakable horrors that he’d endured as a boy in the Nazi concentration camps, he wrote:  “That man / though created in your image / and endowed with the freedom to choose / between good and evil / Remains capable of the worst, as of the best / Of hatred, as of love / Of madness, as of genius.” In this moment where evil, hatred, and madness have once more taken so many innocent lives, we must stand together resolved to confront what is worst among humanity with what is best. We must provide an alternative to the vision of violence and fear, nihilism and terror presented by Hamas. That is what the United States will do, standing with Israel, working together with its people – and all those in this region who remain committed to the vision of a more peaceful, a more integrated, a more secure, a more prosperous Middle East. Thank you very much.   Sources: THX News & US Department of State. Read the full article

#Americancitizens #Conflict #Israel #Israelwar #MiddleEast #Ongoingstruggle #Peaceefforts #PrimeMinister #Security #Terrorism #UnitedStates

[notasiren21]

26 for Lukanette WIPs please. :)

26. Party Crasher!Luka

I FUCKED UP AND JUST WROTE IT I GUESS???

Party Crasher

-Lukanette oneshot

“You mean to tell me Agreste ditched you? After all that pleading to let him take you to the party for your successful launch line for next season, he’s ditched you?”

“Kagami, don’t kill him.”

“Fine, remind me why I can’t though? This is such an ass move of his if he’s trying to prove he’s the one for you.”

“Because,” Marinette grits out, faking a toothy smile to a work couple that waves from passing, “I want to castrate and kill him myself.”

Kagami laughs roughly in surprise, “Why the castration?”

“So I can fit his small ass into the tightest pair of skinny jeans we have for our tall teenage girls.” The not so stoic girl sips on her wine, pleased with her friend’s rage. “I told him I haven’t been interested since we were 14, but him thinking I’ll forgive him if I even had a silver of interest in dating him? Fuck him.”

“Or,” Kagami drawls, long nails tapping the stem of her glass as she leans to peer over her friend’s shoulder, “You could fuck him instead?”

Mari gasps in offense, “I am NOT trying for a one night stand, no matter what you guys say.”

“No, you little mouse,” she admonishes, fully heartedly agreeing with the sentiment, “I just mean your big and handsome protective snake is here to save the day.”

Marinette’s mind took a second longer to click the pieces together, trying to make sense of Kagami’s nicknames for her friend group, before her heart thudded and she slowly turned.

There, passing by the models who had walked in Marinette’s designs and batted their false lashes at the rockstar, was Luka Couffaine.

Dressed to the nines in a very punk like and sophisticated way that revealed he very much wanted to impress her and did in fact listen to her fashion advice. Black skinny jeans only he could pull off, high top converse and a white button up with a black vest to overlay it. The cheeky and handsome bastard forgoing the tie to leave one too many buttons undone and his sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoos.

Oh, on the life of his cat Sass was she proud of him.

And maybe drooling just a little?

He approached her, a sly smile working its way to his lips as he eyed her up and down, eyes shining bright at her black low cocktail that she paired with navy blue heels.

So maybe she sometimes used Luka as a whole for inspiration.

He raised a hand, finger wrapping around a loose curled tendril out of an elegantly messy low bun, “I thought it was the models you were supposed to make the stars of the show.”

“Had I known you were gonna show up, I would’ve worn one of my bests here.”

His hand froze, “This isn’t your best? You tease,” he broke out in a grin. His hand moved further, thumbing at the collection of piercings in her ear he accompanied her with to get years ago. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Well, I’m suddenly glad I can only acknowledge this as awkward and not feel it.” Kagami noted into her class. Her phone buzzed, electing a sigh from her as she began turning. “Have fun, my mother decided to remind me why this wine was a good idea to have before she came.”

She watched her friend walk away, her other -her best friend and other half, remained taking her in and stroking the soft spot under her ear he once claimed with a mark-

The one time they admitted their crushes and strong attraction towards the other the night before he left for tour years ago.

It was the only time Luka had indulged himself in his wants and desires, the only time he had asked to and still provided her with an out. And now he still remains far off in her memories, even as he stands in front of her with that look on his face years later.

“How did you,” she swallows when his soft gaze flicks back up to her eyes with his full attention. “How did you get in? It’s a ticket only event.”

He shrugged, turning to offer her an arm and walk around. “I may or may not have seen Adrien’s post about his mom and dad going to a gala event and him going to see his cousin there. Seems like that took precedence I guess.”

Marinette huffed low, “Félix has been in town for three weeks. Adrien and I had lunch with him the other day.”

Luka stilled as a busboy stopped in front of them, offering them glasses of champagne. Luka’s nose twitched, then his lip as he turned away with a polite smile. Marinette shook her head in turn as well.

“You know you don’t have to pass just because of me, right?”

“Hey, we do this ‘young 20 some year olds unable to drink alcohol’ in solidarity together.” He cracked a smile at that, “Soda is my alcohol.”

“Alright, you can be an honorary member of the alcohol intolerance club.” Luka laughed when she hummed gleefully. “Dork.”

“Nerd.”

“So, back on topic, Adrien just really had no excuse then?”

“Ha, no, even his dad stopped by an hour ago to congratulate me and get press photos done to promote the line. All his son did for me was send a text with a sad face attached to his cancellation.”

“... I can kick his ass, you know?”

“I know, I’m just saving for a rainy day.” She laughed, stepping closer to his side and wrapping both arms around his. “So, the ticket, you party crasher.”

“Right, yeah, I may or may not have called your assistant earlier today to swipe it. I took a guess that she held onto it for safe keeping so-,”

“She’s new, I’m not surprised she just gave it up that easily.” She let Luka guide her into a dance. One hand with painted black holding hers to his chest, the other gently tugging to hold his shoulder before he held her waist.

“Oh, that, that explains a lot now.”

“What?”

He flinched, a nervous glint flashing across his features. “I may or may not have lied about who exactly I was since she didn’t know my name-,”

“Doesn’t listen to your music, already told her the sin she was committing.”

“And who I was to you, specifically-,”

Marinette tilted her head back in a laugh, Luka’s arm tightening to brace her weight, “You said you were my husband, didn’t you?”

He flushes at a memory of once getting a creep off her back a year ago by claiming that very title to her.

“Erm, no, I said I was your boyfriend and may have sold it by saying some pet name and swooning over you just a little,” he watched her eyes go wide then soft, a smile twitching to show. He stepped closer, almost pulling her flush to him, “But if that’s what you want, I can go out and get some marriage certificate?”

She flushed, lips parting and a rush of air passing them.

“Maybe call Jagged up and fly us to Vegas? I mean, we’re both looking good right now, you more so.” Her face went a shade or two deeper. She jumped in surprise when he let go of her hand to play with a tendril again on the right side, tilting her face to press a kiss to her left cheek. “God, you’re such a pretty little thing.”

She squeaked.

“What, what was the pet name?”

“Hm?” He lazily met her gaze, a dream like haze filter over them as he moved her body to sway with his. “Oh, that.”

“What was it?”

Baby, babygirl, beautiful, gorgeous- he may have said more than one.

He gave a slow and wicked grin, twirling her out and back into his chest in a swift and stunning movement as he nudged his nose to hers.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teased, smile spreading wider and radiant as she forgot to breathe for a second.

What. A fucking. Tease.

The need for him to make good on his words and looks hit through her hard and reminded her of their one night together that they both never forgotten. And how much she wished that was every night, as long as it ended up with them curled right around each other and love and happiness coaxing them to sleep instead of stress and loneliness.

He watched her steel her gaze, her jaw tightened. He swallowed when her height, now of five feet thanks to heels, straightened and forced him to pull up. A violent shiver rocked through him when both hands held along the back of his neck, one slipping under the collar of his shirt to scratch along the nape.

“Marinette-,” he choked.

“I’m only asking so I can show my reciprocation.” She leaned closer, kicking her shoes off into some corner and standing on his converse that every elder of theirs had eyed in question during the night. He supported her actions fully, of course. Still stepping them around in dance within a fluid motion. “Not gonna tell me, hun?”

He coughed, loudly and looked away from her to catch his breath. Watching adults cheat on spouses everywhere or everyone else minding their own business to stare at models or the shrimp on the tables.

He almost tripped when she wined in protest, her hand gripping his chin lightly and turning it to face her. His eyes were flickering between admiration, lust and love, growing three shades of deeper blue than was possible.

“C’mon, baby, tell me.”

“Baby?” He stammered out in surprise. Teenage Luka was having a fucking field day with this. “Marinette, I was only joking earlier and-,”

“Were you really though?”

“No,” his response was fast and instant, a wince playing at the corner of his eyes and his button nose scrunching in loss of control.

“Hey handsome,” he preened under the nickname passing her lips, even if close to millions called him the same thing, it paid more effect when it was Marinette calling him it. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

His neck was aching from staring down to meet her eyes now that the heels were gone but he let himself down lower to press his forehead to hers. “Because you deserve better than what he gives you.”

The girl stilled, expecting an awkward or a flirtatious remark. “What?”

The rockstar looked away sheepishly, a little ashamed. “I know you’re considering getting with him, but when I heard he was canceling on you I let my jealousy win out and I just wanted to be there for you.” He bit his lip when he felt her tugging his face back in her direction, choosing to resist the pressure. “You have to believe me when I say I came with no ulterior motives other than protecting you from going stag to your own party tonight.”

“You, you came to protect me?”

He shrugged, another small shiver racking through him when her hands moved along and glided across his neck. “And make sure you had a good night. I even asked your mom what you were wearing tonight just so I could make sure my outfit complimented yours to cheer you up.”

She was silent for a minute or so, and he waited, patiently as ever and guiding her to rest her head against his chest as he swayed them.

Luka, doing all the work. Luka, taking matters into his own hands when someone fails her. Luka, going the extra mile to make sure she has a happy memory.

Fuck giving second chances to other people. Luka is the only one to have shown her he’s the most earning of the concept and notion.

She pulls away, feeling the slight reluctance in his arms on her waist before they drop to his side, “Grab my heels.”

He raises a black brow but complies, turning to find them and hooking his fingers in the backs. He eyes them, used to seeing her shoes laying around the Liberty when she comes over or even at her own place, but he always has to remark that, “You have small feet.”

“You’ve also called them cute,” she huffs, tugging on his hand and pulling him near the entrance.

He follows, like they always do for one another. “Because they are- where are we going?” He stops them as they round an empty corridor, away from the hotel’s event room where the party is still very much happening. The heel of his palm grips tight to archway, pressing against it, the small shoes still dangling in his hold.

“Home, your place or mine. Actually, mine’s closer.”

He laughs brightly, “You can’t ditch your own party for another movie night, Mari.”

The petite girl turns to him, a fierce expression in his eyes that makes him swallow harshly. “No, but I can ditch to celebrate in getting what I really want. For finally getting what I want.”

“The Chinese takeout place is closed this time of ni-,”

“You.”

“What?” Luka wheezes, he blinks stupidly at her. Prettily and stupidly. He straightens, freehand tugging at his collar a little like he needs room to breathe. “Come again?”

“I’m going home. I’m taking you with me. And we’re gonna celebrate that I finally got off my ass and got what I wanted.”

He hums, nervously and a bounce starting in his hand, a shake in one hand, his dark brows furrow, “And you want?”

“You.”

“You- you want,” he sucks in a sharp breath, pain flashing across his features as he clears his throat. “You want me?”

Her eyes soften, a smile showing as she steps closer to him and takes his face into her hands, pulling him down to be eye level with her as he braces his weight on the wall next to them with a hand.

“Yes,” he looks awestruck as she giggles. “I want you... can you let me keep you?”

He laughs nervously, “I’ll fucking sell myself to you if that’s what you really want, fuck.”

She’s smiling, leaning up on tiptoes to alleviate the strain in his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips, muffling the undignified noise of surprise that escapes him. She lets him get used to her for a second, kissing him slowly and purposely as starts to eventually overcome the shock and kiss her back in reverence.

He pulls away suddenly, a guilted expression on his face.

“Wait, wait. What about Adrien?”

“What about him?”

Luka fidgets, a quick glimpse of insecurities and jealousy showing to her before he regains a semblance of control after having his walls knocked down. “He’s been trying to go out with you, win you affections.”

He only knows of the situation, but never presses her to talk about it. It’s natural for it to come up in conversation everyday when he asks her about work knowing the stress of being twenty-two in a high end fashion company could be a bit more than overwhelming. He wanted to be a safe place to her since the beginning.

“There’s nothing about him. I’ve shut him down an handful of times and now it’s just a matter of letting him indulge himself in what he thinks are romantic gestures when me saying no doesn’t cut it. There’s nothing going on between him and I, just his belief that my crush from years ago accounts for something today.”

Luka still looks wary and isn’t touching her, most likely his conscious trying to be the better person between him and Adrien by not going out with the girl his friend is pining after.

Even if said girl is Luka’s legitimate best friend and the very same girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid.

Marinette feels like it’s a dirty tactic as she gets closer to him, trying to gauge where it’s jealousy and where it’s insecurity in regards to Adrien.

She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Luka’s head turns minutely at the attention, tilting less than a centimeter to catch her lips before he catches himself. He struggles when her next kiss falls to his lips and is soft and slow, how he always wants to kiss her.

“Remember our first kiss?” She whispers, wounding arms around his waist and pressing close to him.

He matches her volume, an adoring look winning for a split second, “Of course I remember.”

“Remember our first date?”

“At the ice cream parlor, you wore a pink skirt that kept twirling when you did.” She feels his resolve break a little, his own right to be selfish with her slipping out a little.

His arms slip around her, and he presses a gentle kiss to her temple. “Remember our goodbye at the airport?” His arms tightening around her speak more volumes than his strained, “Yes,” does.

She’s just a little closer to convincing him to stop being so sacrificial with his own wants or needs. She just has to push more.

“Remember waking up in one another’s arms that morning?”

He’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what he can say in response to that. Wondering how honest to be, “... every day, I think of that morning every day.”

She still hears the clipped apprehension in his voice. That tone she knows so well that’s gonna lead into him giving her advice to rethink this whole decision and talk to him when she’s absolutely sure. How she shouldn’t think on impulse and lunge at what she wants unless she knows she does wanna keep with it.

But, he has to know she always thinks back on moments with him and that she longs to have jumped on impulse if it meant being with him.

Every time he’s showed up with takeout at her place. When he smiles so freely at her. When he bandages her cuts and blisters from working all night long.

When he showed up tonight looking like he had been her dare to begin with. How her heart felt when he admitted to lying to her secretary. The way he looked carrying her high heels that were much too small for his hands but he didn’t care because she asked him to.

How he crashed her own party to make sure she’d have fun tonight.

She’s sure she wants this, him.

All those nicknames they could call each other. All the benefits of dating the other and having a date to everything the other needs to attend. Having her best friend be her boyfriend meaning there’s no holding back from anything.

She’ll cringe about it in the morning, but it’s gotta work to break his long instilled fear of being a bad friend or person. Of being unselfish.

“Do you still remember that night?”

She’s sure he’s stopped breaking by the way his entire body seems to shut down, but then it reboots and he’s shaking against her and can’t seem to breathe correctly, his eyes avoiding hers as he swallows again and looking like he’s willing to risk going into an allergic reaction for the sake of one drink.

“That- that’s not something you forget, Marinette.” His hands are twitching on her waist, grip tightening just a little and a vein is jumping in his arm to do something to prove he remembers alright.

One more push, “Do you still remember how I tasted that night?”

He seizes her waist, lunging to kiss her desperately like he did that night and when he left, a growl passing his lips onto hers. He’s cupping the back of her neck, fingers threading through her hair, breathing her in and shaking against her as his resolves breaks completely and the selfish side comes out. The one that’s nowhere near as selfish as the average person, but enough to take in the matter of his own needs and wants. He pulls back, letting her watch his eyes darken, the pupils expanding until the blues are next to near mere ridges of color. He’s watching hers do the same before he nudges her nose and kisses her slowly, more loving and affectionate. His control slipping back into place and resulting in the Luka she so loves regaining the handles of his own mind.

He’s careful in the way he tugs her lip with his teeth, how he coaxes her to let him kiss her fully before pull back and panting against her lips.

“Yes, I remember,” his voice is rough and he has to glance away from her and straighten. She watches him take a few meditative breaths before he looks back at her.

“Does that really help?” She gestures to his chest and mouth, “the breathing?”

He laughs hollowly, “No, not really, but it bought me time to create some distance in this,” he glances around, “Not your apartment place.”

She laughs at the suddenly horrified look that crosses his face, the image of them making out and the threat of almost being caught in public instantly dawning on him. He glares playfully at her.

“You did that all on purpose.”

“Had to, you were just about to give me up for the sake of being a good friend to me and Adrien.” She pauses, a wicked idea forming to prove her point, “Unless, you want Adrien to know what that all is like?”

A dark look crosses Luka’s face; unrestrained bouts of suppressed jealousy, possessiveness and territoriality. “No,” he growls out, eyes squeezing shut and having to clear his throat. “I’d rather not let him know any of that personally.”

“Not even how I taste?”

“Marinette,” he warned, the growl resurfacing. She cooed, wrapping him up in a hug and pressing a kiss to his jaw as an apology. He whined, “It’s not funny when you do that.”

“No, but everything you feel is alright to feel. Don’t hold back for the sake of not being selfish. You can be selfish with me, you’re a reasonable guy and know boundaries.” She sighed, nuzzling further into his warm embrace. “I don’t like Adrien the way he wants me to, and lately, it’s hard to even be his friend. He needs to move on from me. Hell, I’m better friends with Félix now than him.”

“Just hope they don’t switch up on you again.”

She huffed in amusement. “God no, I’d kill them.”

“It’s adorable how how your less than five feet body resorts to violence and death threats.”

“Mm, except you, I’m quite fond of you.” She looks up at him, chin pressed to his chest and smiling when he looks at her softly and presses a kiss to her nose. “This, us, is not an impulse. Just a restrained want I’ve had for awhile.”

“Okay, I understand now.”

She grins cheekily at him, “Or need, if that makes you all possessive hot yet secretly adorable rockstar boyfriend mode again.”

“Boyfriend?” He smiled slowly, radiant as always and heart stopping. “If teenage me could hear you, he’d probably shut down from being overwhelmed.”

“Nineteen year old you certainly didn’t that night,” she mumbles, grinning at the loud bark of laughter that surprises the both of them when Luka throws his head back.

“Yeah, thanks for reminding me what age I lost it at, totally rockstar of me, right?” The blush that’s coating his neck and ears is adorable, a shy smile quirking at her briefly.

“I think it’s sweet, cute even.”

“Yeah, because you’re the one I lost it to.” He deadpanned without conviction. “But, I guess I’ll take being sweet and cute.”

“It’s okay though, I mean, I did the cliché of losing my virginity to someone I was in love with.” Luka does in fact shut down in her embrace hearing that. Hands jittering against her and fingers tapping like he’s trying to speak through notes against her skin.

He takes another minute, before pressing a kiss to her hair. “If this is you confessing your love to me -and believe me, it’s killing me to stop you right now, I’d rather you do it in regards to another topic and not the fact that we were one another’s first time.” He avoids the dangerous smirk aimed his way, or the sharp angle of her cocked, black brow above breathtaking blues. “C’mon, let’s go dance some more and celebrate your success before we leave, maybe find your assistant to introduce me as your boyfriend to.”

She pours at him when he tugs on her hand in the direction of the party. “But-,”

He breathed out shakily, a waning patient look in his eyes and a false smirk aimed at her. “Can I sleep over tonight?”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “I’m very close to just following you home at this point, trust me. I don’t care how the night ends, just as long as it’s you and me tonight.”

She’s letting him make them dance again, feeling as the nerves leave his body as he gets them to fall in step with the tempo. He doesn’t care that he has to bend a little ways down to rest his cheek on her hair, not when she’s letting him pull her up against his chest when she typically only reaches the bottom of his rib cage.

They work well together, they fit perfectly together because they’re more than used to the instinctive adapting to one another.

Her hands cup his cheeks, kissing him carefully without reservation and the anxiety, “It was only an impulse at times because I love you and have for awhile.”

Luka deepens the kiss just a little, thankful she’s the type of girlfriend to let him indulge in her as he smiles, “I get it, I’ve had my share of impulsive thoughts for as long as I’ve been in love with you since we were young. I love you, Mari.”

“Enough to crash a party for me, apparently,” she whispered, a little moved by the thought that they were finally together. He thumbed her tears away.

“Enough to kill Adrien or Félix if you ask me to,” he replied in a loving tone, soothing her gasps for air when she broke apart in giggles against his chest in reaction.

He didn’t leave after that night. And he went to every party as her date too.

#miraculous ladybug #luka couffaine #luka x marinette #marinette dupain cheng #miraculous lb #love #marinette dupain cheng x luka couffaine #miraculous luka #mlb luka #lukanette #lukanette wip #WIP #WIP list #WIP list spoilers #WIP list sneak peak #WIP list I FUCKED UP #I JUST WROTE THE THING #Lukanette fanfic #lukanette oneshot

[prvtbugsbuggins]

Caboose and his ungodly amount of sisters.

A post for both my reference and for you all to enjoy.

The idea of Military Alphabet being used as names was inspired by Red Battalion, Blue Regiment by @tinfoil-jones. It's a great fic u guys plz.

More stuff under the cut.

Caboose and his sisters were all taken from a pool of war orphans during the great war. All of them had their homes glassed and barely escaped with their lives. The oldest at the time was little more than a small kid, so many of them don't remember having parents or a life before they were taken into the SPARTAN III program. For all they know, this was all normal to them.

Indiana was the oldest and was the one to remember what parental love was all about, so she was the one who kept an eye on everyone else and did her best to be sure that they had love while growing up. Their training was extremely harsh and she made sure it was as fair as it could be.

Here are the siblings, from oldest to youngest. Once they were old enough to leave the program, all of them chose their own names. Caboose was chosen as the last name, and all of them keep it as a sign of solidarity.

Name: Indiana ‘Indy’ Carnation Caboose

Rank: Lieutenant General

Armor Color: Dark brown and tan

Designation: INDIA

Description: Freckled pale skin with green eyes and red hair that she keeps short. Absolutely stacked. 9Ft tall even. Is missing a leg but has a cool cyborg one to replace it. Defacto ‘leader’ of the Spartan Siblings and tends to call the shots. Is high enough rank to make sure her siblings are treated well no matter where they end up.

Currently: Alive and still in active duty. Works mostly with Holly.

---

Name: Holiday ‘Holly’ Yuletide Caboose

Rank: Major General

Armor Color: Green and Red

Designation: HOTEL

Description: Tan skin with brown eyes and black hair that she keeps long. 8’11’’ tall. Is built more slender but can still break your neck. Is the one who usually keeps track of all the siblings and makes sure they are okay. Organizes the yearly get together.

Currently: Alive and still in active duty. Works mostly with Indiana.

---

Name: Winter Solstice Caboose

Rank: Chief Warrant Officer 5

Armor Color: White and Winter-mint Green

Designation: WHISKEY

Description: Pale skin with blue eyes and white-blonde hair that she keeps short. 7’9’’ tall. Is built more slender and is stupidly flexible, giving her a rep as an escape artist.

Currently: Alive and still in active duty. Works as a battlefield tactician and invents war-games for training purposes.

---

Name: Tango Rio Caboose

Rank: Second Lieutenant

Armor Color: Black and White

Designation: TANGO

Description: Tan skin with brown eyes and blonde hair that was kept short. Was more short and squat but absolutely stacked. 8 ft tall even. Used to bench press actual benches with people on it.

Currently: MIA. Was last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Vicky Ableton Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Teal and Pink

Designation: VICTOR

Description: Pale skin with blue eyes and hair that’s always in a different color done in a ‘fluff hawk’ hairstyle. 8Ft tall even and built more slender. Is faster than the other siblings in terms of speed.

Currently: Alive and retired. Currently works as a DJ and plays for raves while making her own music.

---

Name: Sierra Nevada Caboose

Rank: Second Lieutenant

Armor Color: Tan and Gold

Designation: SIERRA

Description: Rust colored skin with black eyes and black hair kept long. 8’5’’ tall and was more focused on martial arts, so she was rather slender. Could one inch punch people across a room.

Currently: MIA. Was last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Charlie Beatrix Caboose

Rank: Sergeant Major

Armor Color: Green and Brown

Designation: CHARLIE

Description: Warm dark skin with brown eyes and black hair kept short. Built more chubby and squat at 8’6’’ tall. Can hug you to death though, so be careful. Used to be able to pick up cars so the wheels could get changed faster.

Currently: Alive and retired. Writes and illustrates children's books based off stories she told Caboose when he was little.

---

Name: Luna Moonbeam Caboose

Rank: Sergeant Major

Armor Color: Black and Blue

Designation: LIMA

Description: Pale skin with pale blue eyes and pale blonde hair kept long. Just pale, lol. 7’11’’ tall and built slender and trim. Is really good at psychology and has a knack for motivating people without them realizing it. Takes active interest in troop morale and writes papers on how to improve it.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Works as a drill sergeant and her teams perform better because she gives them all lollipops when they do a good job.

---

Name: Juliet Romeo Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Yellow and Green

Designation: JULIET

Description: Freckled pale skin with brown eyes and blonde hair kept long. Built like a muscular country farm-girl at 8’7’’ tall. Can pick up fully grown cattle and move them where they need to go.

Currently: Alive and retired. Works on a farm where she raises various livestock with her wife. Caboose gets to name all the baby animals born on said farm.

---

Name: Fox (Foxy) Trot Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Orange and Black

Designation: FOXTROT

Description: Tan skin with blue eyes and red hair kept short. More wiry and slender than most other sisters and stuck more to stealth tactics than outright assault. 7’10’’ tall.

Currently: MIA. Last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Echo Echo Caboose

Rank: First Lieutenant

Armor Color: Dark Blue and light Blue

Designation: ECHO

Description: Dark skin with brown eyes and black hair kept short. Quite muscular and built at 8’6’’ tall. Usually specialized in hand to hand combat and liked to use knives and other bladed weapons.

Currently: MIA. Last seen scouting uncharted territory.

---

Name: Ollie Oxenfree Caboose

Rank: Major

Armor Color: Pink and White

Designation: OSCAR

Description: Pale skin with brown eyes and black hair, kept short. Is more slender and built more for stealth and misdirection type of combat. 8’4’’ tall and can pluck your heart out of your rib-cage if need be.

Currently: Alive and retired. Works as a therapist and specializes in PTSD traumas.

---

Name: November Showers Caboose

Rank: Lieutenant Colonel

Armor Color: Dark Red and Orange

Designation: NOVEMBER

Description: Tan skin with brown eyes and orange hair kept short. Is built like a bruiser at a good 8’10’’ tall and a body to put bodybuilders to shame. Likes to count how many teeth she can knock out of someone’s head with one punch.

Currently: MIA. Was last seen on Reach.

---

Name: Kiki Piña Colada Caboose

Rank: Major

Armor Color: Light Pink and Light Yellow

Designation: KILO

Description: The smallest sister at 7’8’’ tall and slender. Pale skin with blue eyes and pink/blonde hair kept long. Enjoys looking pretty but is scarily good at assassinations. Likes to use her unassuming looks against people. Has beaten up selfish lovers.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Trains special forces troops.

---

Name: Bravo Blue Caboose

Rank: Lieutenant General

Armor Color: Blue and Black

Designation: BRAVO

Description: Pale skin with blue eyes and brown hair kept short in a buzz cut. Likes piercings and body mods. Has an unbelievable pain tolerance and likes to freak out her recruits using it. 8’10’’ tall and built like a linebacker. Sometimes will stand there and let people attack her and laugh at their attempts to hurt her. Will kill you if you make her siblings cry.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Works on top secret things that are secret. It’s mostly boring stuff, like paperwork. She hates it.

---

Name: Quinn Sable Caboose

Rank: Captain

Armor Color: Grey and Purple

Designation: QUEBEC

Description: Tan skin with green eyes and brown hair kept short. Tends to dye tips of hair purple. Is covered in tattoos. Is very muscular and big at 8’7’’ tall and can pop someone’s head off their body like a grape. Makes a newsletter for all her siblings so they know what’s going on with each other.

Currently: Alive and in active duty. Trains forces in how to work together as a team and not die.

---

Name: Zelda Triforce Caboose

Rank: Captain

Armor Color: Dark green and Light Blue.

Designation: ZULU

Description: Dark skin with brown eyes and long dreads dyed in a wide range of colors. Built to be trim and slender. Could choke you out with her legs. Is 8ft tall even. Probably has ADHD and is very excitable.

Currently: Alive and retired. Currently makes VR video games and programs for a living.

---

Name: Michael Jaybird Caboose

Rank: Major

Armor Color: Blue (the best blue)

Designation: MIKE

Description: It’s Caboose, our boy. 7Ft tall even with brown hair, blue eyes, and is built like a brick house. Gives the softest hugs, though.

Currently: Alive and in a mix of active duty and ‘retired’. Pets dinosaurs and plays ‘games’ with his squad.

---

If possible they all try to meet up together at least once a year and they actively send letters to each other. They will call if close enough, but since everyone is doing something different, it's unlikely that two siblings would be on a planet together at the same time. All of them are extremely protective over each other, especially to Caboose since he is the baby. Despite some being retired, they still have and wear their armor because it's so ingrained in themselves. Eventually many more will decide to retire and pursue other interests once they figure out what they like.

Also all of them have a barcode tattooed on them somewhere. Not for evil purposes, but because it's easier to scan a code that can't be removed and make sure you aren't going to kill your Spartan by accidently giving them a medication they are allergic to.

Feel free to use if you like as well. I will be using this as a reference for my own works, lol.

#rvb #red vs blue #caboose #Michael j caboose #caboose's 17 sisters #spartan!caboose #best siblings #for me and other people #mostly so i don't fuck up when I write #caboose is the literal baby #all of them are eccentric in their own ways #you can't help to be that when you've been raised from toddler stage to be warriors #the yearly get together is a real fun party tho #it goes on for days

[lumosinlove]

Relic Keel

(warnings in tags)

PREVIOUSLY ON RELIC KEEL

Marlene got into college and hasn’t told Dorcas because she’s scared of how she will react.

Lily and James had sex and obviously like each other, but Lily is scared to have attachments on Hogwarts when they’re going to college soon.

Leo and Logan question each other about their pasts without much progress. Logan finds out that Leo hopes to own The Lion restaurant one day, and that his father’s death has something to do with “The Voldemort.”

Saint and Sirius talk about leaving the island and how they met when they were eleven years old. They have sex and avoid more difficult topics.

James and Lily meet at the Gryffindor Club as promised. Lily tells James that she doesn’t want anything tying her to the island, that she hates the fake boundaries that Hogwarts has and that James isn’t crossing them as much as he thinks he is. James understands, even though it hurts.

Saint and Sirius are cleaning the Potter’s pool when James arrives with Remus and Luke. Remus and Sirius have a tense moment in the kitchen, Luke and Saint argue, and Sirius finds out that it’s Remus who sails the Wolfsbane every morning—Remus thus finding out that Sirius notices.

Logan returns to the Carrows to hand over his money and stock up on Crucio. We find out that he works for them in the hopes that they will help him get Finn out of Saint Clair, only the Carrows are angry with him for using their Crucio—they say that Logan owes them now.

Logan heads over to Saint Clair to watch Finn from afar, and swears again that he will rescue him.

part iv

Remus closed his eyes, soaking in the morning sun and the salty air. The wind pushed his hair back as he tightened the rigging, catching the wind. Sometimes his sails felt like his bare hands. Like he finally had something to hold onto, even if it blistered his palms. The sea made him feel alone, in the best way. Usually, it felt like people were always around. He couldn’t go anywhere without running into at least two people from school, or his parents’ friends. Yes, he’s excited for college, no, he’s not sure exactly yet, yes, he’s still sailing, yes, he’s still obsessed, yes, he remembers learning at Gryffindor Club, sure, I’ll tell my mom you say hi.

Solidarity was less exhausting.

The wind buffered and he sighed as he slowed down. he looked back towards Shack Beach. Saint had said they saw him every morning—that Sirius saw him every morning. He wondered if Sirius was watching now.

He couldn’t see anything from this far away. Part of him wondered if he could make this island disappear completely, just for a moment. But it was dangerous to stray that far. Even The Cradle, the small U of islands just off of Hogwarts’ southern coast, was pushing it. Remus huffed out a laugh as he managed the ropes to come about, back towards shore. If that wasn’t a metaphor, he didn’t know what was.

Things on Hogwarts had become complicated in what felt like overnight, even though Remus knew that wasn’t true. They were older now. They didn’t just care about summer vacation. There was college to think about, and then jobs. Hogwarts wasn’t the dream it once was. Remus wanted to see mountains, and huge cities, or snow—and not just for a week on vacation. He wanted to belong somewhere because he wanted to be there, and not just because he had grown up there. He was tired of knowing everything there was to know.

He tied up his Wolfsbane on autopilot, stroking his hand over the side before tugging his shirt over his head and jumping straight into the water. It was cooler from the night, but it was what Remus needed. He held his breath as he found the sandy bottom, his eyes closed. For a moment, he didn’t have to be anywhere. He got to enjoy the ocean and its predictable changes.

When he came up for air, he remembered why he loved this island. That still didn’t mean he didn’t want to leave.

“Are you headed to the museum, sweetheart?” his mother said when Remus came down to the kitchen, freshly showered. He preferred to let the salt linger all day, but he figured he should be fresh for his first day of work.

“Yeah,” Remus held up his keys. “Just looking for some coffee first.”

His mom held up a mug for him, laughing. “Ask and you shall receive.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks, mom.”

“How was it this morning?”

Remus poured some milk into his cup. “It was good. Sun’s going to be strong today. Went near The Cradle—not too far, don’t worry.”

“You know me too well,” Hope laughed, whisking some eggs into a lather. “Well, it’s pizza night. We’re ordering in so, if you want to have some friends over and take it to the den, that’s fine with me. But don’t complain if Jules crashes the party.”

Remus nodded. “Actually, I think we’re going out. If that’s all right?”

Hope nodded. “All right, sure. Be safe, though. Who, uh…”

“James and Luke,” Remus sighed. “Mom—”

“I wasn’t going to say anything—”

“It’s not Luke’s fault,” Remus continued anyway. “His dad, I mean. He didn’t know.”

“I know that,” Hope sighed. “But…Even I can see that boy’s hurting and I barely see him at all.”

“Then shouldn’t he be with his friends?” Remus said.

Hope raised her eyebrows at him, and Remus raised his own right back.

“All right, all right,” Hope said. “You’re gonna be late, I’ll see you later, baby.”

Remus knew he should take the car his parents had given him. He knew he should get used to driving, knew his dad wondered why it just sat in the garage. But here, on the island, Remus liked his bicycle. He liked the warm breeze. It reminded him of being out on the water.

Which, in turn, now reminded him of Sirius Black.

When Remus remembered Sirius, he mostly remembered bruised cheeks and nasty looking cuts. He remembered the hushed way people used to whisper about him, and how, even when he was loud, grinning and well-liked, he was still from Salazar. Sometimes he had eaten lunch surrounded by people, and sometimes he had eaten it alone with his brother.

Remus didn’t understand this island. Was Sirius really so different because he was born a few miles South rather than North? It made no sense—only it did, but only because it was all Remus had ever known.

The Hogwarts History Museum was a pride of the island. Remus knew it well from school trips, and from his own interest. He’d spent many Saturdays there as a kid, gazing at all of the small models of ships and dreaming about what it would be like to sail them, wishing they weren’t trapped behind glass—feeling a little like he was trapped behind glass. A ship in a bottle.

“Hi there, Remus,” Layla smiled at him, green eyes kind and skin a rich, dark brown against the pale pink scarf in her hair.

“Hi, Layla,” Remus smiled. “Having a good summer so far?”

“Sure,” Layla shrugged. “Lots of time here. I saw you win the sailing race last Sunday, congrats.”

Remus smiled. “Thanks. It was real fun. Sorry I beat your brother, though.”

“Oh, Lyle doesn’t mind,” Layla waved a hand. Her nails were painted pink, too. “Don’t worry about it.”

Remus had been friends with Layla since they were little, competing for best in class usually. She was wicked smart and mellow. Remus could always use some mellow, good conversation—especially with James being James and Luke being…well, whatever Luke was now. Layla liked history, and her family owned the museum, which meant Layla told tales that were, albeit tall, fun to listen to.

Remus leaned against the desk, looking around. “This place never changes, huh?”

Layla laughed, clicking a pen. “History doesn’t tend to change that much, R, and so neither do we. Unlike the world out there.”

“I don’t know about that. Nothing ever feels too different out there,” Remus laughed, too. “But I guess you’re right. I’m glad you’re here, though. Or else I’d be sitting behind this desk by myself.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too,” Layla nodded. “What made you take the job?”

Remus snorted as he rounded the corner, picking up his name badge where Beatrice, Layla’s mother and the museum curator, said it would be. “Don’t pretend we didn’t see each other here when we were little all the time. Not to mention at Gryffindor Club. You, obviously.”

Layla raised an eyebrow. “Me and your mom.”

Remus winced and Layla laughed.

“C’mon, we both know you’d be out on your boat all day if it was up to you.”

Remus laughed. “Fine. But seriously. You’re a perk.”

Layla nodded, rolling her eyes with a smile. “Just a couple of history buffs, I guess.”

Remus shrugged. “There are worse things to be.”

The day was pretty slow. A few tourists here and there, taking photo behind the cardboard cutouts that made you look like you were dressed as a sailor, or a pirate.

“Are there really pirates here?” one little girl had asked Layla.

Remus had smiled when Layla crouched down and whispered to her, “careful, there’s one there,” and pointed at Remus.

When lunch rolled around, Remus expected Layla to pull out a bagged sandwich like him, but instead she scoffed and picked up her bag.

“Come on. We have to get out for a bit.”

Remus shrugged. “All right, where to?”

“The Lion, of course,” Layla replied. “It’s the best food on the island.”

“The Lion,” Remus repeated slowly. “You mean—in The Hollow?”

Layla gave him a look. “Oh, you’re not one of those are you?”

“One of what?” Remus said. “No. I’m not, I just… c’mon, you hear things.”

“Hear things? You’ve never been?”

“Once,” Remus swallowed, thinking of the fight. “It didn’t really go well.”

Layla just shook her head.

“History is just one great field of stories, Remus. You’ll never get to the truth unless you listen to them all.”

And so Remus found himself riding alongside Layla on their bikes and right through Gryffindor. The Hollow didn’t have a sign or anything, but you knew when you were in it. Remus almost wished he had been able to see some sort of line to cross, but everything was just suddenly different. Low houses with open doors, people gathered together and laughing. Kids running with surfboards over their heads, towards Shack Beach. It had seemed even more vibrant in the dark the night of the party, even through the tinted windows of Luke’s car. String lights hung over cookouts, and music blasting from speakers. It had smelled amazing, and Remus would have to say Layla was probably right about the food. 

The Lion was just as bright as everything else. It was bustling with lunch-goers, and the doors were flung wide, letting the heat right in. Remus looked around at the people. Some tourists, obviously. Some not. Hollows. Some of them smiled when they caught Remus’ eye, and some narrowed their eyes.

“Hi, Leo, babe,” Layla said as she slid onto a stool at the counter.

There was a blond boy behind it wearing a tank top and a snapback. He smiled as he set some shrimp down in a frier. “Hey, Layla, babe, ça va?”

“Just working. At least I’ve got Remus for company now.”

Remus smiled awkwardly when Leo fixed his blue eyes on him. He really didn’t know what he was waiting for. Something terrible to happen?

Leo only held out a hand. “Leo, nice to meet you.”

“Remus,” Remus said, and took it. He tried not to look at the rainbow bracelet on Leo’s wrist for too long, but he could tell Leo had felt the way his hand tightened. “Yeah—you, too.”

Leo touched it briefly, like an old habit, as he pulled away, giving another smile to Remus.

It didn’t necessarily mean Leo wasn’t straight, but on such a small island, Remus tended to notice these things. He and Luke had figured each other out pretty fast around sixteen. They’d kissed. Once. And then winced, laughed, and shoved each other in the pool. Sometimes Remus wished he and Luke had worked. He didn’t see any other boys coming his way. Leo was smiling at him like he knew what Remus was thinking.

“What can I get you two?” Leo asked.

A boyfriend? Remus thought wistfully.

“Two of your specials, please,” Layla said. “Re, you’re going to lose your mind it’s so good.”

“What’s your special?” Remus asked.

Leo shrugged, but he was grinning. “Like a chef ever gives up his secrets—”

Leo had stopped mid-sentence, eyes going over their shoulders towards the door. Remus turned to look, and a moment later, a brown haired boy was slinging a backpack down carefully between his feet and taking the seat beside Remus.

“Well, look who’s back,” Leo said to him.

The boy glanced at Remus and Layla, then gave a small shrug. “Yeah.”

Leo snorted. “Yeah,” he parroted. “You’re just hungry.”

The boy shrugged again.

Leo sighed, and gave Remus a look that said, can you believe this? before turning back to the stove. “This is Logan guys. Apparently he doesn’t talk today. Three specials. Coming up.”

~

Logan didn’t recognize the boy sitting at the counter. He didn’t recognize the girl either. Then again, he didn’t recognize many people. He didn’t know anyone. Except Dorcas—if that even counted. And Leo. If that counted, either.

The Felix was heavy in his pack, wedged protectively between his feet, and he wished the strangers would leave so that Leo would talk to him. He hadn’t said two words that weren’t him making sure that Logan liked his food, and asking him where he’d been.

Logan was a little annoyed with him for asking that question. It wasn’t like Leo didn’t know what Logan did. Then again, Leo didn’t know why Logan did what he did.

“You guys get the new madness exhibit up yet, Layla?” Leo was asking the girl with the scarf in her hair. “The one you were telling me about.”

The sandy-haired boy looked up from his food. “The madness exhibit?”

The girl—Layla—cocked her head. “Remus, you…you don’t know?”

“Know what?” the boy—Remus—replied.

Layla sat up a little, looking suddenly awkward. “Your mom donated almost everything we have. I mean…it is your family that’s famous for…”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Losing their fucking minds?”

Layla winced. “Well, yeah, okay, poor choice of words on my part. But madness isn’t always a bad thing, you know. People say people are crazy all the time. Sometimes they’re just extraordinary.”

Remus looked back down at his food. “My family’s not extraordinary, believe me.”

“Usually extraordinary-ness belongs to one person, I’d say,” Leo said. “My mom’s pretty extraordinary. Doesn’t mean I am.”

“You want to stay on this island, don’t you?” Logan found himself saying. Then, he felt his neck heat and he turned down to his food.

“What’s so extraordinary about that?” Layla replied at the same time as Remus said, “You do?”

Leo just laughed, rolling his eyes at Logan. “I’m with Layla on this one, guys, sorry.”

“What about you, Logan?” Layla asked. “I want the museum after I go to college. At least I think I do. Leo wants The Lion, Remus wants to sail the world…” Remus blushed at that, and Layla’s eyes were very green. “What do you want to do?”

Logan found it strange that they were treating him like that. So normally. Logan knew his necklace was on display. It was easier than explaining why people hadn’t seen him around and pretending to be a tourist. That lead to questions. Being abandoned didn’t. And he was. He was abandoned. People didn’t ask. Most probably thought he had just aged out. People didn’t ask. It was better that way. Logan didn’t have any answers. All he had was the memory of that last night with Finn. Finn had returned to their room, eyes wild and voice urgent.

Come on, Lo, wake up. Wake up, Logan, we have to go. Now.

Logan had felt helplessly awake in the first weeks of being out. He was still sorting through what that meant.

Logan swallowed. “I don’t know. I’m—looking for someone first.”

Remus sighed and mumbled. “Aren’t we all.”

“You are?” Leo asked softly.

Logan nodded. “Or, not looking. I’m just…I’m waiting for someone.”

He knew where Finn was, but Logan knew that he could wait forever and he wouldn’t come. Logan had to take what he wanted. It was a lesson he was learning fast.

“Oh,” Remus replied. “Um…cool. I hope you find them.”

Logan just nodded.

“Well, we should head out,” Layla said, rising. “Gotta get back to work.”

“Sure thing, just pay up front,” Leo smiled. “See you later, Layla.” He nodded at Remus. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” Remus smiled back. “The food was great.”

Logan watched Leo watch them leave, then snort. “That guy looked more spooked than a horse with a snake.”

“Isn’t that what Gods are supposed to look like?” Logan replied.

Leo shrugged. “Usually you can’t see their eyes behind their aviators.”

Logan laughed a little. “Right.” he looked back down at his food, realizing he had begun picking his fries apart, rather than eating them.

“I’m looking for someone too, you know,” Leo broke the silence.

Logan did. Only, he hadn’t thought about it like that. Leo’s dad and Finn. Leo’s dad was probably dead. Finn wasn’t.

“I hope you find him,” Logan replied. “Your dad.”

The Lion was in full swing now, the lunchtime rush loud and boisterous. Leo had a tank top on, and Logan thought he looked a little tired. Sleeplessness showed easily on his skin.

“Do you have to run?” Leo asked instead of responding. “And hide? Like, from the police?”

Logan sat up, instinctively looking behind him. “I assumed I would have to. But…it hasn’t been that difficult.” He laughed a humorless laugh. “I guess I keep overestimating how much people actually care about me. Maybe I should have learned something by now.”

“Maybe you’re just looking at the wrong people,” Leo said quickly, and looked up with a smile, a small one, then down again. “I know a few others who got out. They don’t seem to have trouble, so, you know, if you needed a job or something, you could work in my mom’s workshop. With me. Or here. I’m sure Celeste and Pascal would be all right with it.”

Logan felt taken off guard. “Oh. I…” he thought of the powder packets in his bag. Of the Carrows. How much do you think you owe us by now?

Others? he wanted to ask. What others? 

“Just think about it,” Leo said, and turned towards one of the stove tops to check on some boiling water.

“Yeah. Okay.”

They sat in silence for a long moment.

“It’s a boat,” Leo began suddenly, answering Logan’s yet unasked question. The Voldemort. What his father had been looking for. It was almost like Leo was thanking him for telling the truth about his situation. An eye for an eye. A truth for a truth. Logan sort of liked that consistency. “Was a boat. In the eighteenth century.”

“Oh,” Logan said.

“Biggest story on Hogwarts,” Leo said. “Ten thousand pieces of gold, all fallen to the depths of the ocean just off of Hogwarts’ shores…and never seen again.”

“But if it’s just off the shore…”

Leo smiled a little, shaking his head. “But you have to know where off the shore. Otherwise, you have a whole circumference of miles and miles of open water to work with.”

“And your dad figured it out?”

Leo shrugged, expression closing off a little. “He thought he did.” He cleared his throat as he put an order on the counter for a waiter to take away, and ripped another piece of paper down from the line up to look at. “The Cradle. You know it?”

Logan shook his head.

“It’s a sort of…horse shoe shaped cluster of islands, just off of our southern tip.”

“Salazar,” Logan said quietly.

Leo nodded. “Salazar.”

“Your dad was a treasure hunter,” Logan said slowly. “He was looking for a treasure.”

“Yeah,” Leo said, flipping a crab cake in sizzling oil. “He was.”

“And did he find it? Do you want to find it?”

“I don’t know,” Leo whispered, busy hands stilling. “He never came home.”

Logan nodded.

“He wanted to find it,” Leo said softly. “Really badly. And I… I feel like I should.”

“And was he close?”

Leo glanced up from his knife. “Yes.”

“Leonardo,” a voice came suddenly, entering the restaurant. “What does your mother feed you, you gorgeous specimen?”

Logan froze. He knew that voice.

Leo rolled his eyes, and looked at the newcomers. “Fuck off, Saint. Hey, Sirius.”

“Hi,” a second voice came, and it was closer, almost beside Logan at the bar.

Leo’s eyes caught on Logan’s again, probably meaning to introduce him, but he stopped instead.

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked.

But Logan just shook his head, and then the newcomers—Saint and Sirius—were leaning against the bar. Logan felt the breath beside him catch just as his own had, and he turned to look.

Logan thought the boy standing beside him looked different. Older. More muscular. Squarer jaw. But the same. Same eyes. Same shock of blond hair. Same warm, brown skin.

“Logan?” Saint breathed, his eyes disbelieving.

Logan went to open his mouth, when Saint’s arms were around him suddenly.

“It’s Saint,” he said softly, just for Logan’s ears. He squeezed him tighter. “God, you’re here.”

“Saint?” Logan whispered into his shoulder. No one had touched him like this in what felt like forever.

“Yeah,” Saint said. He pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

Logan shrugged. “I…yeah, okay.”

“Knutty,” Saint’s serious expression morphed into a grin. He leaned against the counter, keeping his palm on Logan. “Handsome as ever.”

Logan blinked at Saint, then at Leo. “Knutty?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to a word he says.”

“Oh, Logan already knows not to do that,” Saint laughed. He tapped his cross necklace. “We’re practically brothers.”

“Oh,” Leo blinked. “Right.”

The other boy—Sirius—looked just as taken aback.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Saint called in a sing-song voice, looking at Sirius. “Order for us, won’t you? And get us a table? Logan,” Saint nodded towards the door. “Come hither.”

Logan was so thankful to see Saint, he nearly tripped while getting up. A familiar face. A familiar anything. Saint had gotten out almost seven years ago. He’d been there one day, in his bed, in classes, in the courtyard, and gone the next.

“Sweetheart?” Logan asked, glancing back inside at the dark-haired boy, Sirius.

Saint just put his hands on Logan’s arms, eyes more intent than Logan had ever seen them, then on Logan’s cheeks. “Holy shit, how did you get out?”

Logan felt his heart slow, then speed up. He swallowed dryly. “Finn. How did you?”

Saint ignored the question.

“Finn,” Saint repeated, nodding. “Of course. When?”

“About a month ago. And he—he’s still in there,” Logan said. “He’s…And I’m—”

“I hear you,” Saint said. He jerked his head over to the table. “Not now. Let’s get back.”

“Saint?” Logan asked again.

Saint rolled his eyes. “Leave it alone. For now.”

~

Saint hadn’t been ready. He hadn’t seen Logan in nine years, but he’d know his face anywhere. All eyelashes and sad, green eyes. A smile he wore with Finn only. He looked spooked now, and tired. They’d sat at the bar, watching one of Leo’s shifts go and another one come, then moved to a table. Watching it get dark outside now, Saint wondered where Logan had been living for a month.

He eyed the backpack that Logan held so protectively close, and thought of the way Dorcas did the same thing.

Saint had a bad feeling.

“So, how’d you two meet?” Sirius said, gesturing between Logan and Leo with a fry when Leo brought over more water.

“Party,” Leo shrugged after a moment of hesitation. “Shack Beach.” He jerked his head at Saint. “You two were there, judging by Sirius’ shiner. Could hear that fight at my house, probably.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I didn’t start it.”

“True,” Saint said, wondering how he had missed Logan that night. “Some God—albeit a beautiful one—thought we were selling Crucio.”

Saint flicked his eyes over to Logan. Sure enough, he blushed.

Saint cocked his head. “The horror. Dangerous stuff.”

Leo looked at Saint quietly, and glanced at Logan, then back to him. Saint nodded. Got it, it said.

“Well, would you look who it is,” said a deep voice from behind them, and then there were two strong arms around Saint and Sirius. Pascal placed a loud kiss on each of their heads.

“Eck,” Sirius laughed. “You smell like grease, old man.”

Pascal Dumais laughed. “Grease that feeds you, maybe. And who’s this?”

“Dumo, meet Logan,” Saint said. “Logan, meet Pascal. He owns the Lion with his wife, Celeste.”

“The most beautiful woman in the world,” Pascal said, accent heavy. “Logan, it’s nice to meet you.”

Saint watched Pascal eye Logan’s necklace.

“We were together at Saint Clair,” he supplied.

“Maybe not so loud,” Logan said harshly. “Saint.”

“Oh?” Pascal said, and squinted at Logan. “Who are you with now, mon cher?”

Saint watched Logan open his mouth, frozen, and was about to speak up when—

“Me,” Leo cut in. He looked down at the carrots he was chopping as he said it. “Me and my mom.”

Oh, Saint thought.

“Oh, Leonardo,” Saint sighed. “Un ange.”

“Not my name,” Leo said.

“I know.”

“Yeah,” Logan replied to Pascal’s still questioning gaze. “Yeah.”

“I see,” Pascal nodded. “Well, I’m happy you and your mother will have a helping hand now. I miss your father dearly, mon fils.” He smiled sadly at Leo.

Leo just nodded. “Yeah.”

“Him and his treasure, eh?” Pascal said. “A wonderful man. I miss going out on that boat of his.”

Leo’s smile was small, but fond. “Those were some of his favorite mornings.”

“Treasure?” Sirius asked.

“Black!” a new voice shouted. “Thank fuck.”

Saint looked up when Sirius did. James and Remus were barreling towards them from the dark outside.

“Good lord,” Saint said. “Rain, from Olympus. Water my crops, why don’t you.”

“James?” Sirius said. “What are you—”

James and Remus walked right up to their table—Remus looking slightly more reluctant. “We have a question.”

“How did you know we were here?” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I mean, just…it’s a little out of your way, non?”

“Remus came here earlier, and when I told him—well, you’ll see—he said maybe you’d be here.”

Saint watched Sirius’ eyes narrow at Remus, confused. “Okay…”

“Well, it’s good to see you again, tweedle-hot,” Saint said to Remus. “Up close this time. We actually though you were going to sail right out of sight this morning.”

Sirius stepped on his toe beneath the table.

“Excuse me?” Remus choked out. “What the fuck did you—”

James blinked at Saint, then shook his head, as if to right his thoughts. “All right, setting every strange thing that comes out of your mouth aside for a moment —where is Dorcas?”

“Meadowes?” Logan chimed in.

James’ eyes turned on him. “You know her?”

Saint raised his hand. “I have the same question.”

“Well,” Logan hesitated. “Sure.”

“And she sells Felix,” James said, as if trying to confirm the information.

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Says you.”

James sighed. “I’m not here to turn her in, Jesus, I just have a question.”

“Do…” Sirius was looking at Logan. “Do you sell…”

“What kind of question?” Saint cut in.

Remus spoke up. “A does-she-deal-to-Luke type of question.”

Saint laughed. “Deveaux?”

“You know who Luke is, Saint,” Remus sighed.

“Well, yeah I do, Lupin, he tried to buy off me,” Saint shook his head with a tisking sound. “Turns out he’s a prejudice piece of eye candy. Who knew.”

“Come on,” James sighed, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. “Please, Sirius, come on.”

Sirius shrugged. “We don’t know who Dorcas deals to. We’re not involved.”

“If you did would you tell us?”

Sirius smiled, just a little. “Probably not. But I really don’t know.”

James sighed, sagging away from the table. He looked at Remus. “Fuck.”

“What were you hoping to accomplish here?” Sirius asked slowly.

“We—” Remus said, then sighed, too. “We were going to see if she would agree to stop. If it was her, if she would stop giving it to him.”

“We’d pay her,” James added. “Obviously.”

Saint scoffed, and Logan laughed a little, too, from beside him.

“Obviously,” Saint mimicked.

“We just meant—” Remus began.

“We know what you meant,” Sirius said.

Saint popped a fry into his mouth. “If we’ll clean your pools for a few bucks, we’ll grant you three wishes, too.”

“Jesus, Saint,” James groaned.

“Mary. Joseph—”

James ran his hands through his hair. “We’re sorry, we misspoke. We’re just trying to help our friend. His dad got taken to jail, his mom pops pills all day and night.  That’s already draining what little money the bank didn’t seize and if he wants to do anything with his life he needs a straight head. Just—fuck, we’re just asking.”

Saint prided himself on gathering information, but most of that were things he didn’t know. Luke’s dad had got taken away. But the pills? The financial distress? All of that paired with that guarded snarl the boy always seemed to wear…it almost made Saint feel sorry for Luke Deveaux. He almost said so.

Instead, he said, while twirling the cross around his neck. “Wow, he must feel like an orphan or something.”

“All right,” Remus sighed. “James, let’s just go.”

“What does he look like?” Logan said suddenly before they could turn to leave.

James looked a him warily. “Um. Sort of blond-ish. More brown-haired, I guess. Big guy, built and tall and all that. Oh, he’s got this green spot in one eye.”

Logan nodded. James raised an eyebrow. Saint waited.

“How much will you pay me to stop selling to him?” Logan finally said. He rose as he did, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “That’s a lot out of my pocket.”

“Logan,” Saint said, but Logan didn’t look at him.

James blinked. “I—oh. Oh, uh—God, what do you want? Two hundred?”

"One grand,” Logan said.

James laughed. “Dude. Who the fuck are you? No, I don’t have that much just—on me.”

“Logan,” Saint warned again, and this time Logan did look at him. Saint shook his head softly.

“Fine,” Logan said through his teeth, and held out his hand. “Two.”

James took his wallet out and handed over the cash.

“Thanks,” Remus said from a little behind James’ shoulder. “Really.”

Logan just nodded, shoved the bills into his pocket, and headed for the door.

“Pardon,” Saint sent a grin to them all, and followed him.

Once they were outside, Saint gave him a wack on the back of the head.

“Fuck,” Logan swore. “S—”

“You get out of that shit-hole and you go around selling Crucio? To Gods?”

“I—”

“I mean, seriously, what the fuck was that? Do you know how not careful that was?”

“I don’t even know who that boy is,” Logan bit back.

Saint blinked. “What?”

Logan looked out towards the ocean where they could hear the waves crashing against the shore. “He offered to pay, and so I told him what he wanted to hear. When his friend shows up hallucinating next, that’s their problem.”

Saint scoffed. “Fine, okay, clever boy. But you do sell Crucio.”

“Felix,” Logan countered. “And yes.”

“Crucio. And no.”

Logan shrugged. “I need the money.”

“For what?”

Logan looked at him and, this time, his eyes were hard. Desperate. “For Finn.”

Saint froze. He opened his mouth, and then closed it. “Excuse me?”

“If I can get enough cash, I can get Finn,” Logan said.

Saint stared at him, and then Saint laughed. Then, he laughed louder.

“You’re shitting me,” Saint said. “You think that?”

“What do you…”

“You think you can buy Finn out?” Saint repeated incredulously. “You think you can walk back in there and buy Finn out.”

Logan took a breath. “He—”

“Logan, Jesus Christ,” Saint snapped. “You walk anywhere near that place and you are never getting back out.” Saint pressed a hand to Logan’s shoulder and shook him. “Do you hear me?”

“I need to do something,” Logan shouted back. “I need to do something, I can’t just leave him in there, he’s everything to me.”

Saint shook his head. “He got you out. Don’t waste that.”

Logan nodded, eyes bright with tears now. “And you know he got punished for it. You know he did—”

“Stop,” Saint spat, glancing around, as if anyone could hear. “Don’t.”

“You could help me,” Logan said, wiping his nose. “Bash, you got out once—”

“No,” Saint said, and turned away. “No. And don’t call me that. Don’t you ever call me that.”

“Please,” Logan begged. “Please—Saint.”

Saint whirled on him again. “I am never going near there, and neither are you. Finn’s still in there, fine. But he’ll need to get himself free like us if he wants it bad enough.”

“I owe money,” Logan began, then his breathing hitched. “I owe them, I took some of it to see—to see Finn and…Bash—Saint—”

“Them?” Saint took a step forward. “Them?”

Logan pressed a hand over his eyes, but Saint walked forward and pulled it away.

“Logan,” he said lowly. “Tell me you didn’t.”

Logan closed his eyes, mouth twisting against his tears.

“Tell me, right now, that you didn’t let the Carrows tell you they’d help you. And that you didn’t believe them.”

Logan shook his head, not in negation, but in defeat. “I need him. I need him, I’m so…I’m alone.”

Saint pulled Logan against his chest and let him cry. The sobs heaved out of him for a long while, until the collar of Saint’s shirt was wet. Until Logan was breathing softly again, exhausted, and until his voice sounded shot when he spoke.

“You’re really staying with Leo?” Saint asked, more gently this time.

Logan nodded.

“I have a place, too. Here, in The Hollow. If you want.”

“With the others?” Logan rasped.

“What others?”

“How many others are out?” Logan said softly.

Saint shook his head, fingers in Logan’s hair. “Just me, that I know of.”

“You still wear it,” Logan said, pulling back to look at him. “The cross.”

Saint let his hands drop with a last touch to Logan’s hot cheek. “So do you.”

They were both silent.

“I’m sorry about Finn,” Saint said rigidly. “I know how much he meant to you.”

Logan’s brows pulled together. “He’s not dead.”

Saint nodded. “Right.”

“Saint…” Logan began, and Saint heard the almost B instead. “Would you—just thinking about it—“

“No,” Saint said, and then turned and went back inside.

Sirius, back at the table, looked at his face, and then at his wet shirt.

“Okay?” he asked softly when Saint sat down.

“Just dandy,” Saint replied, and looked towards the door. Logan was gone.

#warnings: brief mention of drugs and past abuse and death of a father #relic keel #lumosinlove #relic keel lumosinlove #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #saint #lumosinlove ocs #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #lelo #Logan Tremblay x Leo knut #o'knutzy

[yamalegacy]

Hey, I really enjoy your writing and honestly all the mha girls deserve more love

And may I please request midnight, Momo and miruko with an s/o who's short (like smaller than 165cm, definitely not me 👀)

alright! short lover time! but first i'd like to say that small doesn't start under 165cm and as someone who is 164cm and the tall friend, i take full offence (i don't, but i'm french so being dramatic is a specialty).

i hope you like it! and well, under 165cm solidarity, my friend!

MIRKO ( usagiyama rumi )

my friend, you better be ready to get teased mercilessly about your height because it's gonna be happening nonstop with that pocket-sized rabbit hero of yours

the only thing bigger than her ego is her muscle mass and she absolutely will show off by carrying you around even if it's totally unnecessary. rumi is ridiculous that way. and yes, she'll mostly carry you bridal style most of the time

hugs you from behind a lot. it's simple gesture and there's no talking about feelings, so she's a big fan! and it's comfy as hell, she can just rest her chin on your shoulder and hug you super tightly

she tends to want to be the big spoon, no matter the size of her s/o, but with you being even shorter than her? she needs to be the big spoon; it's a way for her to feel like she's keeping you safe and protected from the world outside, from the terrible people that she has to face at work all the time

loves to go shopping with you even if she doesn’t particularly enjoy shopping because it’s a way to just walk around, hold your hand. and maybe drag you to the kids’ sections of stores to troll

CREATI ( yaoyorozu momo )

yaomomo is the sweetest tol girlfriend you could ever ask for. she’s a big time softie and she just melts whenever she lays her eyes on you because you’re the most precious person in her eyes

way too soft and babie to tease you. honestly, you may be the tiny one in the relationship, but there’s no doubt that she’s the actual babie here. she’s just all squish

will occasionally rest her chin on you, but she is the kind of girlfriend who wants to kiss your forehead or the top of your head, depending on how much shorter than her you are (and honestly she might as well just get up on her tiptoes to be able to kiss the top of your head comfortably)

with momo there wouldn’t be much of an attitude change if you’re shorter than her as it doesn’t matter much to her; she’s going to spoil you with love, affection, and all sort of gifts whenever she has an opportunity to (she’ll buy or make anything you might ever want)

she really loves when you sit on her lap though?? you’re just so fucking cute and she could stare at you for hours and maybe fall asleep against you — she’ll stubbornly pretend she didn’t fall asleep while her whole face turns bright red

MIDNIGHT ( kayama nemuri )

your girlfriend is a 175cm giant and there's nothing you can do about it. if you choose such a tall girlfriend, you gotta be ready to deal with the consequences of her towering over you

you’re her smol baby. don’t question it. she enjoys tight hugs, and while she likes hugs from behind, she prefers being face to face with you. she wraps her arms around your shoulders and well. rest assured, her chest is the most comfortable of pillows

she has a lot oversized sweaters and t-shirts to be comfy at home, but her collection has suffered significantly since you started dating because of how often you raid her closet — her clothes are always so soft and comfy and smell so good?? nothing better than to fall asleep when you’re basically swimming in her clothes

will occasionally tease you because of your height. she has grown into the habit of petting your hair — it used to be a way to tease you, but now it's just a very affectionate gesture

can be overprotective but she has boundaries because she knows that your height doesn’t make you weak. and lbr she’s really good at finding excuses to hug you all the time

#mha x reader #mha x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #🐇 usagiyama rumi ( mirko ) #👑 yaoyorozu momo ( creati ) #🔞 kayama nemuri ( midnight ) #🍌 headcanons

[mxchellesworld]

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐲.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of sex and masturbation 

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

It had been a few days since you’d seen Cat and Spencer. After lunch you decided it was time to make your way back home. A quick exchange of numbers and the promise of seeing each other soon and you were back to your mundane routine of getting adjusted to the city. The short uber ride to your apartment, which they insisted they paid for, was spent answering texts from your friends and confirming you were still alive after they left you. 

You spent the rest of the day doing laundry for the week and cleaning bits of your apartment. It was still pretty bleak, with empty walls which you longed to fill with pictures and art. Your room was a bit more lively with knitted blankets your aunt made long ago and the light of the warm lamp in the corner filling the space. 

Sunday was bland with the task of getting groceries. You decided to walk since the store was a block away. You made your way down the streets in a simple sweater and leggings, foregoing any makeup. Walking into the store the older lady at the register greeted you with a kind smile. 

Picking up a basket you made your way down the isles trying to get your things quickly to get back home and sleep the day away. While searching the snack section you stood in front of the popcorn deciding between buttered or kettle. You heard footsteps and saw a worker make his way down to restock the shelf. 

He was tall and you noticed the way his shirt rose as he reached the top shelf. Spencer could probably reach that no problem, you thought to yourself. He caught you staring and turned to you with a smile. 

“Having a movie night?” he asked walking closer. You could smell the scent of his cologne, strong but not overpowering.  

“Not really haha, but don’t get me wrong a catch up day of my favorite show is definitely on the list,” you replied returning with a small smile. 

He leaned in reaching for one of the boxes, subtly boxing you into the space. 

“Well this is my favorite kind,” he said handing you the box, “Ya know perfect to amount to eat alone.. or share.” 

“Oh,” you said surprised with a chuckle trying to play off the heat rushing to your cheeks. 

You were about to respond when you heard a voice from the end of the aisle, “Y/n.” 

Think of the devil and he shall appear.

Spencer was walking over to you holding his own basket filled with essentials like milk and bread. He looked like he did on Saturday, wearing those grey sweatpants which made you thank the stars above. On top he had on a simple tshirt and cardigan combo making him look extra cozy. 

“Hey Spence,” you said looking past the employee. 

“Did you get the popcorn baby?” he said looking the worker up and down. 

You furrowed your brow seeing what he was playing at, “Yeah yeah, he was just giving me a recommendation,” you turned back to the worker, “thanks again.” 

The worker nodded, red in the cheeks from facing Spencers death glare, before he walked away and rounded the corner. 

“What the fuck was that,” you both said at the same time. 

“He was just trying to help,” you said waving around the box of popcorn. 

“Come on princess you’re smarter than that. He was obviously trying to flirt with you.”

You scoffed before answering, “What don’t tell me you’re jealous.” 

“Oh I’m not,” he said with a smirk, “I’m confident in the fact we’ve proved who you belong to.”

You rolled your eyes before he spoke again, “Plus I know a boy like him could never satisfy a greedy little whore like you. Tell me, are the handprints still there?”

You opened and closed your mouth not being able to answer him. The laugh he let out told you he new he had won. 

“I think I’m done shopping,” you said walking past him. 

“Alright princess have a good rest of your day. But don’t think Cats not hearing about this, and she won’t be very happy.”

You felt your insides heat up at the thought of Cat knowing. What she would do to you. 

“Uh huh bye Sir,” you said stressing the title. 

You made your way to the older lady who you saw when you walked in, “Find everything alright?” she asked kindly. You nodded and pulled out your wallet to pay. 

God she had no idea. 

_

That interaction replayed in your mind from that night into your days at work. Neither of them had texted. Maybe Spencer forgot and never told Cat. The wait for something to happen was torturous. 

Your friend had noticed you were spaced out. Looking longingly at your phone during your breaks or lunch. It wasn’t like your feelings were hurt much for being ignored but more so the ache between your thighs was having a reaction. As you predicted trying to use your fingers or that sad vibrator in your bedside drawer was doing nothing to aid your release. 

You were out at the cafe around the corner from the office you worked at having lunch with one of your coworkers. She was going on about the night she had with the guy from the bar over the weekend. 

“Then he bent me over the couch! God it was so good,” she all but moaned. 

“Uh huh.” 

“I swear we were up until like 4 am going round after round,” she continued. 

“Right.”

“After that we sacrificed a goat on Saturn.”

“Oh wow,” you said looking down at the unlit rectangle next to your sandwich. 

“Y/n,” she said snapping her fingers in front of you. 

“What,” you said raising an eyebrow. 

“You’re being really shitty right now. I’m trying to tell you about how I literally got my back blown out and you’re staring at your phone like it’s gonna unlock the key to your future,” she said exasperatedly. 

Welp she wasn’t entirely wrong. 

“Abbie I’m sorry. I’m just waiting on a text. But please tell me more,” you said nodding for her to continue. 

“No, I wanna know fucked you stupid this weekend to make you act like a lovesick puppy,” she said putting her elbows on the table to rest her face in her palm. 

You internally debated telling her. I mean so far she has been the nicest and most welcoming to you, definitely bff material. But on the other hand you didn’t know if you were allowed to bring them up to other people. Technically it wasn’t a rule and what they didn’t know didn’t hurt them. 

You took in a deep breath before spilling your guts,” So basically after I noticed you guys were gone I accidentally walked into a sex club then later that night I fucked the owners and now we’re in a throuple type situation.” You ended with an awkward smile and waited for her reaction. 

“Oh the bdsm club? Isn’t it like the Library something?” she said casually. 

You sat there blinking for a while, “Out of everything I said thats the part that caught your attention.”

“So you had a threesome, very nice, we’ll get to that part. Tell me about the club.”

“Uh ok. We’ll it’s called the Underground Library and it’s what you’d imagine any bdsm lounge would be like. Red lights and sexy music playing in the back. There’s a bar and uh playrooms where you can watch others.”

She hummed taking in the information and sipping on her latte, “So the sex?”

“God it was so fucking good.” You both laughed and you spent the last few minutes of your lunch break telling her about what they did to you. Safe to say you knew your panties would be a mess by the end of the day just replaying those memories in your head. 

_

It was finally Thursday, you were so close to the work week ending and having a night with Abbie. The plan was for her to help you do a little shopping for your home then redecorate and spend the rest of the night sipping on wine with a pizza. Absolutely perfect. 

The day went by yet again without a notification from the people you wanted. At this point you came to the conclusion the incident was forgotten and left in the past. 

Friday you woke up around 10 and let yourself lay in bed, answering emails and lounging around until noon for you to get ready for your day with Abbie. After a while you got up to make a quick breakfast and make a list of items you planned on buying. 

You thought about getting a throw for the couch and some nice curtains. Maybe some wall decor. You were so excited to finally have a place to yourself and style it to your liking. 

Having roommates in college was fun but the solidarity of being able to walk around your own place basically naked and sing as loud as you wanted was liberating. 

Noon rolled around and you made your way to the bathroom to take a shower. The water pressure on your shoulders was breaking through to all the stress of the week and you instantly felt it melting away. 

You hopped out, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel and looking in your closet for what to wear. You settled for jeans and an oversized flannel, putting some comfy booties on your feet. You looked at your phone to see Abbie had texted and she would be on her way in 45 minutes. Using the remaining time you did your hair and makeup, just the basics for your day out. 

Your phone dinged with a simple text that read “here”, you grabbed your purse and the list on your kitchen counter and made your way to the elevator. 

You saw her little red car right in front of your building. The sound of music playing through the speakers could be heard from a few feet away. 

You pulled the door open and she greeted you with a big smile, “Hey! You ready to spend away that paycheck,” 

You laughed before answering, “You know it.”

The trip was made with nothing but laughs and a horrible mix of you guys singing to the radio. 

_

After a few hours and trips to multiple stores you guys stopped at one of the vendors in the mall to get some soft pretzels. Looking around you saw a fancy lingerie store and an idea popped into your head. 

You tapped Abbie on the shoulder to get her attention, “Hey I know you’re dead on your feet but theres one store I wanna go to. Do you wanna just grab a table? I’ll be like 20 minutes tops.”

“Yeah no prob Y/n/n,” she said holding her hand out for the bags you had in your hand, “this cinnamon twist is calling my name.” You both shared a giggle before you turned and skipped over to the store.

A woman wearing a dark purple sweater greeted you, “Hello darling, are you looking for anything in particular?”

“Nope I’m just taking a look around, thanks,’ you said with a smile. 

Walking around you saw a display of a matching set. It was baby pink and lacy and it left little to the imagination of the mannequin. Perfect. 

You looked over the table finding the set in your size and walking to the dressing rooms. Quickly you basically ripped your clothes off, speeding to get the fabric on your curves. It was stunning, complimenting your skin and hugging your curves. 

You pulled your phone out and hit the messaging icon. If they weren’t gonna text then you had to bite the bullet and put on your big girl panties to do it first. 

Typing in each of their contact names you made a groupchat and hit the camera option. You lifted your hand to get a flattering angle and gave the mirror your best pout. 

“Do you think it’s a good color?” Sent. 

One last glance in the mirror and you knew this was going home with you. Changing back into your clothes you slipped your phone in your pocket and made your way to the register. 

“Just this for you today honey,” the woman asked. 

“Yup,” you said pulling out your wallet. You heard the chime of a text and a smirk came across your face. Finishing the transaction you were excited to see what their reaction was. 

Walking back to Abbie you saw her on the phone and raised your brow in question. She started to get up and you took some of the bags from her hands. Once she was done with the call she put her phone in her purse and looked over to you. 

“Change of plans. Sam, the guy from the club, called and he’s coming over to mine tonight. So raincheck on the wine and pizza?”

You waved a hand dismissing what she said, “You’re all good, go catch that dick.” She laughed and pulled out her keys as you guys made your way out of the mall. 

In the car you pulled your phone out to check the message. It was from Cat. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe your little friend from the grocery store can help you pick.” 

So Spencer did tell her. 

You quickly replied, “You know green isn’t a good look on either of you.”

Another chime. “Why would I be envious? Last time I checked you came on my fingers, in my bed.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at her words. You tried to think of a response but this time Spencer responded. 

“Come to the lounge at 7. And wear that underneath your clothes.” 

“Yes Sir.” was all you said and the conversation ended. 

Looks like you and Abbie both had other plans for the night anyways. 

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐭. 𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐫!!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #cat adams x reader #cat adams smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #chellewrites

[fatouseckcreates]

Now entering the last days of the holy month of Ramadan, I’m reminded of my last year’s Korite, which I spent with my namesake’s family in Arafat. Though I’d visited the country during Ramadan before this was the first time I spent it from beginning to end. For most of it, I was down. I missed my family and friends. Fumbling through the language barrier, while constantly readjusting to sociocultural differences was kicking my ass. As everyone in my home was pulling closer together, praying and fasting together, it felt like there was no place for me. And while I have in the past fasted out of solidarity, I was just getting over being sick, and not being able to eat all the foods I loved. The thought of not eating for another month didn't exactly have me jumping for joy, but still I wanted to show my respect so I fasted. 

Fasting from food and drink is only one part of the holiday though. Its praying, breaking fast together, treating people with grace, being forgiving, fortifying the spiritual body through your relationship with God, and with your community. It’s beautiful, really. And I think this is why so many Muslims get excited for this time of year to come around. While I admire the discipline and dedication my Muslim family have to their faith, for me, a non Muslim, I just felt hungry, frustrated, and out of place. Stuck in the house, everyone on quarantine, the country under curfew, and corona had me afraid to leave the house, and the country. 

But the month wasn’t bad. I got to spend a lot of time with the baby of the house, Baye Kiss, and tap into my mothering skills, which I’ve always had anxiety about. When everyone in the house was praying, we would hang out together. I took a lot of trial and error to figure out how to get this 11 month old busybody baby who liked to yank and tear everything down, throw whatever object was small enough for his hand and stick his fingers into electric sockets because he was just tall enough to reach them, calm and occupied enough to not be screaming for his mom. All of my siblings are older than me, all my first cousins older than me. So I never had a baby to take care of. But I was so proud of myself that I could eventually figure out what he liked. Putting him to sleep twice had me feeling like a big boss😂. Soothing him helped to soothe me. We would walk upstairs to the roof and say hi to the goats and enjoy the cool night breeze. I would put him on my hip and walk in circles sometimes singing Ayo Nene. He made me feel confident that I could be left alone with an infant and return him to his mom in one piece. 

As the last week approached, I finally got tired of feeling like a lump on a log and decided to go to my happy place ,Arafat 2, Rufisque. Moving out of the country had proved incredibly overwhelming. Even though I’d visited a bunch of times and had established a group of friends, like anywhere in else in the world, like any other sphere of life, things change. People change.  But I always knew one place I could go for a bit of familiarity, a safe, home feeling was Rufisque. Mame Oulimata’s house in Arafat 2. Her children were like my big brothers and sisters, my aunties and big cousins, her grandchildren like my cousins, my sisters, my friends. 

When I left Parcelles for Arafat, I didn't even pay too much attention to the fact that Eid was approaching, I just knew I was tired of staying in this house, and its my Granny’s 83 birthday in 2 days. So I got up, packed a bag, took a $3 klando to downtown Rufisque, my home away from home. I didn't know it would be my last holiday with Mame Ouli. I remember on the day of Eid she was finally had her appetite back, she was enjoying the food. I took it as a sign her health was improving a lot. My sister friend Aissamba made my dress. Simple and cute. I attempted to do the girls’ makeup so we could have a cute photo shoot in front of the house. That was a dub. Lol, but I still managed to get at least one picture with everyone I could because I wanted to remember that day forever. (I lost that phone and most of the pictures are only in my mind.) The only ones left are a few I sent to my mom of me & Mame Ouli.  I didn't know how much she like pictures and dressing up until this visit. Big Gemini sun/Venus in Taurus energy! She enjoyed herself and so did I. I am grateful to have spent the holiday with her and to get to know her more as a person.

[anonymous0writer]

You’re Alright II JJ Maybank

Author: @anonymous0writer

Request: Yes!

// I forget the request rn, but it was for a songfic based off the song “All You Wanted” by Michelle Brand. Thank you anon, I hope you like it!

Warnings: Physical fighting. I don’t even think there’s cursing..

A/N: Sorry this was so late! More will come and sooner :)

Taglist: @jayjaymaebank @rudys-pankow @maaybanks @everydayimfangirling @outrbank @thelocalpogue @decap-quadrant @ahhireallydontknow @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @kylosleftbuttcheek @insanitysparkles @divcrdown @youfookendonut @dpaccione @outerbanksbro @jjs-housekeeping​ @teenwaywardasgardian @traumaflavouredjuulpod @sarapage89 @danicarosaline @timmyswrld @gmwlover100 @bxbyyyjocelyn @teamnick @jjmbanks @thesurfingsnail @lulubutton34 @obxsummer @katiaw2 @yeehaw87 @poguecollins @notaninstagrammodel @koufaxx @talksoprettyjjx

Sorry I keep forgetting my tags! Sadly, I couldn’t tag all of my taglist, so if your name isn’t in bold, message me and we can figure it out!

Lyrics look like this

I didn't know that it was so cold And you needed someone to show you the way So I took your hand and we figured out that When the time comes I'd take you away

JJ looks up at you, blue eyes flashing as his jaw clenches. Your fingers tap his cheek, forcing him to keep his head still. You clean up his shallow wounds, your heart squeezing painfully as purple blooms across his face like a flower showing its face. You swallow your feeling about the abuse littered over his skin- he doesn’t need you to get emotional. You stay strong and continue cleaning him up, and finish with a kiss to his hair.

“You’re alright,” You whisper against his hair as his arms encircle your waist and his face buries into your stomach. You hold him close, fingertips brushing his hair lightly. Sobs rack his body as he starts to cry. You grip on him tightens and you whisper comforts into his ear. 

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here- I got you. You’re safe now.” 

Your hands trace soft patterns into his bare back, sure to dance around the dark bruises and fading yellow ones. You glare at the patches of abuse and pain traced onto his skin, but keep your lips firmly pressed together. 

“You’re okay, J.” You murmur, pulling away from him slightly to cup his face to force him to make eye contact. “You’re okay, I’m right here. And guess what? I’m not leaving.” 

He nods as you brush away the tears staining his cheeks. You sit on the bed and pull him toward you. JJ’s face lays on your chest as you play with his hair and his arms lay across your stomach. 

“I love you so much,” He whispers against your shirt and you kiss his dirty blonde hair again as you return the sentiment. 

The boy falls into a dreamless sleep while you worry about his home situation. You wish you could take him away. Away from all of this.

If you want to I can save you I can take you away from here So lonely inside So busy out there And all you wanted was somebody who cares

“JJ, stop!” You screamed, the words ripping from your throat. Wind blew your hair away, drowning out your screams. “JJ, please!”

The boy either didn’t hear you or ignored you. His fists rained down on the Kook’s face, and they tumbled, grunts and fists flying. Sand kicked up as the crowd circling the two brawling boys tightened, a tall, broad shoulder guy stood in front of you. You pushed in front of him, another yell spilling from your throat.

“JJ, please stop!” Desperation lined your voice.

But JJ couldn’t stop, and he wouldn’t stop until one of them dropped. And by the looks of it, it was him. The Kook was straddling him, weight keeping JJ from wiggling out of his iron tight grip. He grunted, pain splashing against his face in waves as the boy on top grew more desperate. JJ had learned that desperation was more the cause of fighting than anger. Or atleast, when the anger faded from your veins, the only thing that kept you going was desperation. And that’s what was happening to the Kook sitting on him. Anger had fizzled out of his blood, leaving him high and dry. The only thing left- desperation and the primal instinct to survive, to live. And while the scuffles and fights he got into were nothing as dire, the instinct was the same. Soon his vision goes hazy, spots burning into his eyes. JJ knew he was on the edge of blacking out, but he didn’t stop. He grunted, shoving his suddenly heavy arms at the boys chest, catching him off guard. JJ took the opportunity to roll out from underneath him, coughing violently into the sand as he crouched on all fours. His lungs rasped for air as he coughed, blood mixing with the spit and landing on the ground.

His cerulean eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you stare at him, in front of the crowd, mouth slightly agape and brows tugged into a disbelieving glare. He couldn’t hold your gaze, because he couldn’t handle your angered words and lectures. The Kook was catching his breath and cradling his possibly broken nose. JJ smirked. Though he almost got the shit beaten out of him, JJ broke his nose. And by now, the boy knew exactly what point to hit and how hard to hit to make the bone snap.

There was no denying the fact that the blonde was hot headed and impulsive. But fighting was a type of escape for him. The solidarity of focusing on the person in front of you, the rush of survival in your veins, the one goal- winning- provided an escape. Something about the task to win seemed to calm everything roaring in his ears. It was when the blood pumping in his ears and everything in his life faded away. But the reality of his loneliness settled in once he was left gasping for breath and pain covering every inch of skin.

You crouched in front of the boy, eyes worried. “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

JJ blinked. Your words weren’t the normal ones of your lecture, they were worried. And that’s when JJ realized, really realized. You cared.

All you wanted was somebody who cares If you need me you know I'll be there Oh, oh, oh, yeah

JJ struggled to pull air in and out of his lungs, eyes glassy with tears. He tried to regain his bearings, vision focusing in and out. Until they rested on the phone on the table. His ribs were bursting with pain each time he took a shallow breath, but he fought through the familiar pain to try and bring the phone closer. 

You were on the other side of that phone, ready to help and hold him. You filled his mind with the countless nights you cared for him and lay with him, whispering comforting words in his ear until he fell asleep. 

He knew he could count on you. But as his fingertips grazed the home button, he stopped.

Would you be happy to be woken up at midnight to come and help him? Would you want to see him like this yet again? Would you be willing to help him? When you’d been asked to do this so many times already? Would you still care like you used to? 

His fingertips stalled, but the questions swirling in his pain along with the pain were pushed aside by your voice. 

“If you need me,you know I’ll always be there. No matter what. I will always be there for you.”

So JJ grabbed the phone and pressed your saved number. You picked up on the second ring.

I'm sinking slowly So hurry hold me Your hand is all I have to keep me hanging on Please can you tell me So I can finally see Where you go when you're gone

He was leaving again. His figure fading into the horizon. His feet carried him away and you danced down the steps of the Chateau, heart squeezing painfully. Your feet hit the dirt of the driveway and you reached out, desperate.

“JJ!” You called, voice hovering in the air. “Please, stop!” 

You stalled, knowing you spoke those all too often. You swallowed and continued on, feet not carrying you fast enough to reach him. 

“Please?” You begged.

The boy turned fast on his heel, eyes hard. “Y/N stop. Just stop.” 

You came to a halt, blinking in surprise. You met his eyes and your heart tugged again. 

“Leave me alone.” He spoke and started down John B.’s driveway again. 

This time you were rooted to the ground, feet growing roots and digging into the dirt, keeping you still. Your lips parted, and you called after him again. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, knowing the boy had a stop absolutely no one knew about that held his storming thoughts. You swallowed, worry rising in your chest. You hated when he left, and the fact that he’d flee for a day or more, keeping his spot secret made you ask. But the boy didn’t answer your desperate question and soon he faded away. You frowned deeply, worry dissipating into dejection. 

And just like that, he was gone.

Please can you tell me So I can finally see Where you go when you're gone

You pushed the brush aside, ignoring the dull sting of the blackberry bushes against your shins. You broke through the shrubbery, coming to stand in a small clearing. The ground beneath your scuffed shoes was a mixture of sand and rocks. The sand led to a littering of bigger rocks that could sit you, which broke away to the water. It was a small beach on the edge of a heavily wooded area. And on top of the rock sat a familiar figure. 

JJ was staring at the water, and when you softly called for him, his head turned and you met his glassy eyes. A fresh bruise and cuts littered his face and a tear made its way down his cheek. The scene broke your heart.

“Oh, J.” You whispered and rushed forward, reaching for him. You wrapped your arms tightly around him as he buried his head into your stomach. You rubbed his back as he sobbed, hands gripping your shirt. 

“You’re okay, J. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You’re gonna be alright.”

#obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx netflix #jj #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj obx #jj obx imagine #jj obx x reader #jj outer banks #jj one shot #jj outerbanks imagine #outerbanks #outerbanks jj #obx jj #obx jj maybank #outer banks jj #jj imagine #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj x you #songfic #request #anonymous0writer #writing #obx imagine #obx writing

[rorygilmre]

how ‘bout them cowgirls? (jj x elle)

pairing: jennifer jareau and elle greenaway 

summary: the farm!AU you didn’t know you needed! so this would take place right after elle leaves the BAU. imagine if she and jj had been dating at the time and jj quit in solidarity and to be there for elle and they moved out to a huge farmhouse... this is in THAT universe. 

author’s note: i finished this like the first night of my tumblr break because i missed writing and i just... love this concept SO much, i couldn’t wait to finish it and share it with y’all when i got back. (also, i HATE the end scene and how i wrote it... but meh.) OH, MOREID IS ALSO CANON IN THIS!!! i wanted ALL the gays in my farm!AU. 

words: 2,094

warnings: mentions of shooting, mentions of BAU/cases, mentions of insecurities... i think that’s it? it’s just a bunch of fluff 

taglist: @ellegreenawy @davidrossi-ismydad @garcias-batcave @ssa-lesbian @gothwyfe 

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Pink and orange swirls painted the sky, a slivered moon hanging in the balance. A gentle breeze wound its way through earth, whispering greetings and urging the night forward. An endless field of tall green grass blew softly from side to side, like lovers swaying to music only they could hear. Crickets joined the noises as the night grew closer and stars began to dot the sky.

Elle had grown to love these nights, sitting on her porch, sweaty glass of homemade lemonade in her hand as she watched earth fall asleep. When she’d bought the ranch home with its attached 25 acres, she’d almost laughed. Who did she think she was? Back then, the BAU had defined her life and catching killers had consumed all of her thoughts. After shooting Lee, after her resignation… she’d turned to the farm. She had almost forgotten this edge of the world existed – one where time slowed and the heartbeats seemed louder. For two months, she had driven between her place in the city and the farmhouse. She threw her extra hours into decorating the house, but the real godsend had been JJ. JJ, who had been more than willing to pack up city life and move back to a small town. After the first two months of commuting, the girlfriends had decided to leave D.C. entirely. They left without a glance backwards, Elle driving the three hours out of town with JJ’s hand on her thigh and head on her shoulder.

It had been two years now. Elle and JJ had settled into the country life quite quickly, each taking to their own roles on the farm. It hadn’t taken long for them to acquire a plethora of farm animals – Elle couldn’t resist when JJ brought a new one home or left a classified ad on the dining table, said animal circled in pink pen. The first had been a dappled grey mare named Latte. Elle had laughed when JJ had walked her up the dirt driveway, claiming the owners lived down the road and were giving her away to a good home. “We’re a good home, baby” she’d said and Elle had just kissed her cheek, helping her settle the horse into the red barn. The next day, they’d gone into town to buy supplies and wandered across children selling baby goats. They’d gone home with three new goats and forgotten the supplies.

Now, they had a functioning garden full of vegetables and flowers, a small herd of horses who meandered about the large pastures, and one very noisy group of goats who had matured since that first day. Every morning, JJ was up before sunrise, taking a jog down the dirt road before coming home and working with the horses. She loved the wide-open spaces, the feeling of never-ending peace, and the way she could breathe deeper out here than she ever could in the city. She loved her routines, saddling horse after horse as the midday sun beat down on her back. Some afternoons, Elle would join her for a ride and they’d gallop the horses, chasing each other over rolling hills and letting their laughter echo through town.

Every night, without fail, Elle cooked dinner. She’d take fresh vegetables and herbs from the garden, chopping and dicing them and adding them into salads and pastas and casseroles. JJ had bought Elle a “kiss the chef” apron their first Christmas here because that’s what she did – JJ would sweep in through the front door, knocking off her boots and drifting into the kitchen to press a kiss to Elle’s lips before floating upstairs to shower the day away. To this day, Elle still couldn’t believe she had gotten lucky enough to live life with a woman like JJ. Maybe that’s why Elle loved to sit outside and talk to the stars… she thanked them every day for bringing this angel into her life.

Sundays were their favorite days, though. As usual, JJ rose early, but she took over gardening duties from Elle. Elle had a penchant for sleeping in and did it much later than usual on Sundays. Every Sunday, she woke to a vase filled with a colorful array of freshly picked flowers and JJ’s soft voice coaxing her from slumber. Every Sunday, she’d convince JJ to climb back into bed for a little bit and JJ agreed, forgoing an argument in favor of her girlfriend’s body. Every Sunday, they’d finally rise together around 11 A.M. and get dressed for a trip into town. Personally, Elle had been shocked by how kindly the small town had welcomed two women in love into their county limits. JJ kept reminding Elle of the beauty and compassion that existed in places such as these and these people had made Elle believe it.

In town, the two would separate, letting go of each other’s hands for the first time since leaving the farm house. JJ would run by the feed stores to make orders for hay and grain for the animals and picking up any supplies, medications, or treats they needed. Elle pretended to hate when the blonde fed the horses too many peppermints, but JJ knew she secretly loved how spoiled their animals were. Elle would make her way to the general store, filling a basket with any groceries or household items she needed and making small talk with the shopkeeper. At the end of their trip, they’d meet back at the old blue pickup truck Elle had had to buy when they moved here, throwing bags in the backseat and intertwining hands once again as they made their way to the town’s diner for lunch. Along the way, they’d pass the elementary school and wave to the kids. They had quickly become familiar with the comfort of children’s laughter. They hadn’t had their own children (yet), but the children spent several long afternoons at the farm with JJ and Elle. The women would amuse them with the animals, teaching them to care for them. Sometimes JJ would give horseback riding lessons to little girls. At the end of the long afternoon, Elle would bring out fresh cookies and iced tea, leaning against her girlfriend as they watched the small town’s kids play in their front yard. In a sense, they’d adopted an entirely new family when they had moved out here.

They never would forget their BAU family, however. No matter how many years went by, Morgan and Reid made it a point to write to them every month. The women looked forward to those letters and always read them together, making catching up on their past lives a shared activity. A year ago, one such letter had announced that Morgan and Reid had finally professed their love for each other (JJ knew it, Elle still couldn’t believe it (“You know I took Spencer’s virginity, right?”) but loved the pair together regardless). Since then, the letters had been filled with stories of their dates and nights together. The boys always added in what they affectionately referred to as the “Hotch smile count” each month too (Elle loved that part the most and sometimes wrote the boys back, asking them to tell Aaron she says hi). JJ and Elle usually constructed letters to write back together, recounting their own adventures and giving the boys relationship advice (even from hours away, JJ was still the mediator for the two).

The old team had visited once… and had made some long-lasting memories over the weekend they had taken over the 4-bedroom ranch house. Elle and Gideon had spent the weekend in the kitchen, concocting recipes and swapping cooking tips. Derek and Aaron had taken over the large leather sofa in the living room, staking claims on their favorite teams for a football game. Spencer had decided to show Jack around the farm and spout facts on the various animals. Penelope followed the boy and kid, fawning over the goats (who were still adolescents at the time). JJ had watched it all unfold, realizing the farm felt like a true home for the first time that weekend. On Sunday afternoon, they had all said goodbyes and made promises to do it all again sometime. Needless to say, work had kept that promise from being made. The addition of a bestselling author and stellar cook to the team had also kept JJ and Elle’s old friends closer to D.C. for events and holidays. However, this winter, Morgan and Reid promised to visit – it had been far too long since they’d all seen each other and JJ swore she was going to get Reid on a horse.

For now, the two were content with their simple life. One recent Sunday morning, Elle had turned to JJ. They had just finished up dinner and were working in tandem to clean the kitchen and dishes (Elle loved the cooking part but hated cleaning up). The day was winding down – sun setting, cicadas beginning to hum in the summer night air, moon hanging in the sky. The sunset gleamed through the dusty kitchen window, framing JJ’s head in a halo. JJ glowed in this light, purely ethereal, and Elle couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto her face. To this day, she was still shocked the blonde hadn’t complained once about packing up her life and moving with Elle. She had adjusted very quickly, almost like she was waiting for this her entire life. Maybe she had been, but Elle still wondered if she ever had any regrets. JJ could have been a rising star in the bureau, but she gave it all up for Elle without a second thought. Even back then, their love for each other had outweighed everything else.

On this night, Elle decided to speak up.

“Hey, J.” She said, breaking the comfortable silence in the kitchen. The blonde hummed a reply, busy with scrapping pasta sauce from a pan.

“Do you ever regret it?” It was an inquiry and Elle tried to make it sound as innocent as possible, keeping her voice steady.

This time, JJ stopped scrubbing at the pan and turned her head to face Elle. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this. Do you ever regret it? Moving out here, with me? Giving up your job?”

By now, JJ had analyzed the situation. She knew the guilt and pain that hid behind Elle’s tough façade. She knew something had to bother her for a long time before she would bring it up and she knew the way Elle would force her voice to be tough, never revealing her true emotions. It had been something they had learned to overcome with their relationship, but JJ knew insecurities still ate at Elle.

JJ set the pot down, moving over to where Elle was standing at the kitchen island. JJ approached her from behind, wrapping her arms around Elle, tucking her head into the crook of her neck. Elle’s body responded instinctively, forgetting the tension that had been coursing through the air moments before. JJ moved her head, pressing soft kisses up Elle’s jawline and on the spot behind her ear before speaking.

“Regret this?” She whispered, planting a kiss on Elle’s neck.

“How could I?” Another kiss. Elle sucked in a breath and JJ smirked, her lips brushing against Elle’s skin.

“You’re everything”

Kiss.

“That I”

Kiss.

“Could ever”

Kiss.

“Need.”

Elle couldn’t hide her happiness or her pleasure. With each kiss the blonde pressed to her neck, Elle was forgetting where she was and the dishes sitting in the sink. Elle spun in JJ’s arms, facing her now. She brought her face closer to JJ’s, their noses brushing against each other, as she whispered.

“I love you.”

She leaned forwards, lips sweeping against JJ’s, just teasing enough to make the blonde forget the reply that had been on her tongue. She captured JJ’s lips in hers, a kiss full of love, passion, and the taste of peppermint. JJ moved her hands down to rest on Elle’s waist, hanging thumbs through her belt loops and pulling her closer. Elle’s arms looped around JJ’s neck, pressing her closer. No matter how little space was between them, it was never little enough.

When they finally broke apart, the sunlight reflected off the fire in Elle’s eyes. This was all the answer she needed. Elle removed her arms from JJ’s neck, reaching down to interlace her fingers with JJ’s.

The blonde laughed as she moved, pulling Elle towards their bedroom.

“I think the dishes can wait until tomorrow.”

#criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #jelle #jj x elle #jennifer jareau x elle greenaway #(idk how to tag this lmao) #myfics #farm au

[catflorist]

The Time Being (ao3 / ffn) catflorist Summary: Time-slipping is a side effect of wielding the Rinnegan. When Sasuke slips through time, he always goes to Sakura, whether he wants to or not. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

The Time Being pt. 1: slipping

By the southern tip of Fire country, Sakura dropped her bags once she spotted two colossal rock formations jutting out of the ocean. Wood erupted from the ground, shaping itself the way she wanted. By sunset, a one-roomed house with big windows stood on the beach.

Days bled into one another. Sakura gathered stones to lay a path and explored the tide pools. Her cat, Hime, claimed a sunny patch on the kitchen counter as her own. The salt and humidity in the air curled the ends of her long hair. From her bed in the loft, Sakura watched waves crash against the rock formations, the giants resting in the surf. 

It was not long before he appeared. He arrived in the normal way, materializing from particles of air.

.

. 

On the eve of Sasuke’s seventh birthday, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he was half-asleep in bed. On the other end, he was standing in a bright kitchen as a tingle faded from his fingers.

A woman swooped into the room. Her eyes brightened. “Hello there,” she said, placing a hand on her pregnant belly. 

Sasuke’s mouth opened, scrambling to explain his presence. He did not want to scare her, especially if she was having a baby. But the woman’s brow remained smooth and unworried, like she was expecting him.

That’s how Sasuke knew he was dreaming.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“People can’t eat in dreams,” he scoffed.

She crossed her arms. “Why not?”

Sasuke shifted on his bare feet and shrugged. He didn’t know enough about dreams to argue his case, and she was clearly a dream creature. Her hair was odd—pink like springtime flowers—and her eyes were too green to be real.

The woman placed a bowl on the table, and he took a seat. She served a breakfast of miso soup, rice, and grilled fish. Sasuke’s stomach growled at the smell.

“Am I still in Konoha?” Sasuke asked as he ate. The view from the window looked familiar, but greener, somehow.

The woman touched a finger to her chin. “Yes. But not the Konoha you know.”

Sasuke nodded. It was a dream, after all. “What will your baby’s name be?”  

“Sarada,” she said, then her eyebrows shot up.

“What is it?”

The woman pressed a palm to her stomach. “She just kicked. Would you like to feel?” 

Sasuke’s fingers were tingling again. Chopsticks slipped from his grip. He frowned at his hands.

“Looks like you’re going, Sasuke-kun,” the woman said.

Sasuke had not told her his name, but her knowing did not startle him. He offered her a smile, but he was back in his bed. He drifted asleep. 

In the kitchen the next morning, his mother stifled a knowing look and set a fish on the counter. “Good morning. Will you help with the rice?”

“I’m not hungry,” he said, but he measured and rinsed the rice like she had taught him.

Mikoto stopped halfway through deboning the fish. “Why’s that? Are you feeling sick?”

“I ate in my dream,” Sasuke mumbled, feeling foolish. He set the rice over the stovetop—he was tall enough to reach now.  

“Sounds like a pleasant dream,” Itachi said from behind. Sasuke turned. His brother leaned down to tap his forehead, wearing the smile he reserved only for Sasuke. 

Mikoto produced a plate of freshly-sliced tomatoes. “Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun.”

.

.

“Ichiraku’s?” Naruto begged, as Team Seven crossed the gate into Konoha. The setting sun bathed the village in a warm glow. After weeks of traveling, the noise of sizzling street food, wooden carts rolling over stone paths, and distant shouts overwhelmed Sasuke’s ears.

“I’m pretty tired,” Sakura said, hopping to adjust the weight of her travel pack. The three teammates all wore dirt, grime, and rumpled bandages as marks of their recent mission.

“It’ll be on me!” Naruto patted various pockets for his frog wallet and frowned at its contents. “Hey, sensei, can I borrow some money?”

Kakashi turned to face his three students. He rubbed the back of his neck. “What a shame—I don’t have my wallet on me. I’ll leave you to it.” Beneath his mask, his expression grew serious. “Good work, you three. Take the week off.”

Kakashi’s praise was hard won, and this time, well deserved. Team Seven’s assignment in the Land of Waves—their first serious mission as a team—had not gone according to plan.

Naruto spoke again, but Sasuke did not hear him. He was returning from this mission with two things: a newly-awakened bloodline trait and a near-death experience. He rubbed his forearm, dispelling phantom pricks from the memory of Haku’s senbon. 

“…so tomorrow, then?” Naruto said, drawing Sasuke back to the present.

Sakura blinked, dropping her eyes from Sasuke’s face. “What’s that?”

“Tomorrow we’ll train like normal. Kakashi-sensei said that’s fine!” Naruto said, pointing to Kakashi’s retreating form. 

“Great. Thanks, Naruto,” Sakura chided.

In solidarity with Sakura, Sasuke rolled his eyes, but he was not displeased with the change in plans. He liked training. He was used to his teammates.

“Yeah, no problem!” Naruto flashed his teeth. “Let’s get dinner.”

“Shouldn’t we drop off our stuff first?” Sakura asked.

“But I’m starving,” Naruto wailed.

“You don’t have any money,” she pointed out.

Sasuke stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let’s just go,” he mumbled. 

Naruto’s eyes widened. He gripped his teammate’s shoulders. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” 

Sasuke scowled and shrugged away Naruto’s hands.

“Can I please get an extra egg with my order? Please please please?”

Naruto ordered two extra eggs. And extra chashu. And gyoza, "For the table,” he insisted, situating the platter next to his own bowl. 

As they ate, Naruto sighed with contentment. “Sakura—you’re great and all—but Sasuke-kun is my favorite teammate right now.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes and cast a glance at the vanishing gyoza.

“I’m very hurt,” she said cordially, then frowned. “Stop hogging the gyoza.”

Team Seven might always bicker and rub each other the wrong way. But traveling, sleeping, fighting beside each other for the past few weeks had forged a strange new bond between them. Somewhere they had crossed a line, and now Sasuke would protect his teammates without a second thought. In turn, they would protect him. They already had.

For a moment in that battle, Sasuke had closed his eyes, fully believing he would die and leave Itachi the last Uchiha. Instead he had woken to Sakura’s face. She had not let him out of her sight since. 

Sakura stole the last four pieces of gyoza, dividing them between her plate and Sasuke’s.

“You finished it,” Naruto complained. Sakura clicked her tongue in regret. 

Naruto lived suspiciously close to Ichiraku’s. After the meal ended, he darted home with a smile, leaving Sakura and Sasuke alone outside.

Sakura smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“The dobe wouldn’t shut up otherwise.”

“Naruto will never leave you alone now,” she teased. This was also new. 

“Whatever,” Sasuke said. But he did not mind footing the bill. In all likelihood, he would do it again.

“Where do you live?” 

“Near the Academy.” He did not know who had arranged his housing, but they had chosen well: a busy area full of shops and restaurants, walking distance from the Uchiha compound, but not within sight. “You?”

Sakura named a nearby neighborhood populated by working-class, civilian families. Sasuke inspected his shoes. “All right,” he said, and started walking in that direction. After a couple steps he scowled. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Ah,” Sakura exclaimed. She fell into stride beside him.

Sakura was unusually quiet on the way home. They reached her door, narrow and flaking with old green paint. She dropped her bag and sat on the stoop. Sasuke accepted the unspoken invitation and took a seat.

“It’s strange to be back, after all that,” she said, cupping her cheeks, elbows balanced on her knees. “It doesn't feel real.”

Sasuke understood better than most. No matter what happened, the world went on.

“I’m really glad—” She swallowed, lip trembling. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Sasuke mumbled, “Yeah.”

Sakura flung her arms around him. She smelled like the soap they bought in the Land of Waves, and also something sweet, like the fresh forest air around Konoha. Her elbow jutted painfully into his ribs, and pink hair tickled his nose, but he didn't move. After a breath, he grazed her back with his fingertips, so light he didn’t know if she could feel.

“I don’t think things should be this way. Don’t you think?” Sakura’s quiet voice was close enough to his ear that he had no trouble hearing. At his silence, she pulled away. “We shouldn’t have to fight this hard. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.”

“This is how things are,” he said. He didn’t know any other way. He had been fighting for so long.

“Why?” Sakura asked.

Sasuke had never thought to ask this question. He frowned. Somewhere down the alley, water was dripping upon stone.

“Okay, I’m done.” Sakura exhaled. “I’ll stop annoying you now.”

“You don’t annoy me,” Sasuke mumbled. His palms tingled as the words left his mouth.

Sakura’s eyes sparkled, but she did not comment, and Sasuke was grateful.

They rose and Sakura and placed a hand on the door handle. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, then scowled. “No thanks to Naruto.”

The door creaked softly as it shut, then Sasuke was alone. He dropped his pack at the door of his silent apartment and set out for training ground twelve. Secluded and near the woods, it was a place where he spent many sleepless nights. 

As Sasuke threw kunai at targets he could barely see, a shiver ran down his spine, and his head spun. The kunai slipped from his grasp. When the sensation passed he was no longer in the training ground. 

The first thing he heard was a small sniffle. Smooth wooden floors and walls came into focus around him. A figure sat on the ground with their head lowered. Even though he couldn't see their face, Sasuke knew who it was.

“Sakura?”

She looked up. Tears clung and trembled upon her eyelashes. “Hello, Sasuke,” she said, with a watery smile.

“You…you’re different,” he accused, narrowing his eyes.She was not the Sakura he knew so well. Short pink hair fell to her chin. Her limbs were longer, her shoulders straighter. She wore the uniform of a chunin. He wondered if he was dreaming. “How old are you?” 

Sakura wiped her cheeks with the heel of her palm, and the rest of Sasuke’s questions fled his mind. 

“Who hurt you?” Sasuke did not know why he assumed this. Sakura was not visibly injured, and there were plenty of things that might cause her to cry. But she drew a shaky breath, and he knew he was right. She was upset. She was in pain. His gut clenched in anger.

“Who?” he demanded.

Sakura’s lip trembled. “Don’t worry, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke sat. With his jaw locked, he threaded his fingers with hers. Sasuke hated unnecessary physical contact. But it was not the worst thing in the world to hold Sakura’s hand. His own Sakura would never know, and the loophole emboldened him.

Her eyes shut. After a long few seconds, she gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

It struck Sasuke that Sakura was not at all surprised by his sudden appearance. “What is this? What am I doing here?” he asked. She would tell him, if she knew.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. She cleared her throat. “It happens, sometimes—us meeting like this. It will happen again. When you go back, it’s best you don’t tell anyone.”

“Why is this happening?” Another question occurred to him. “If you’re here,” he asked, “then where am I?”

Sakura said, “We love you, Sasuke. Kakashi, Naruto, and me. Always. I hope you know that.”

If these words had come from his own Sakura, he might have scowled and said something rude. But this Sakura would see straight through him. So Sasuke nodded. He knew. 

Sakura’s mouth curved up, and her eyes crinkled shut. It was a smile so soft and warm that Sasuke thought he imagined her earlier tears. Sasuke knew Sakura was pretty in the same way he knew springtime was pretty. But now, somehow it was more. It ached. 

Sasuke’s fingers were tingling again.

Through the ringing of his ears, he heard Sakura say, “Thank you for coming. I feel better.”

Moonlight glinted off the metal of an abandoned kunai at his feet. Cicadas shrilled in the darkness. Reaching for the kunai, Sasuke realized Sakura had not answered his last question. But the way she smiled at him, he knew that wherever he was, he was okay. 

Sasuke felt off the next day.

First, he was late to training. “I overslept,” he muttered. His teammates gaped, because when they traveled together Sasuke was always the first awake. 

Then there was the matter of Sakura. Sasuke was alarmed, because looking at her now set off a curious, soft pang in his stomach. He stared at her until a flush colored her cheeks, which somehow made everything worse.

“What?” she asked.

Something strange is happening. I saw you. You had short hair. You were in pain. 

“Would you ever cut your hair?” he could not help but ask.

Sakura frowned and touched the ends of her long hair. “I don’t know. Should I?” 

“Never mind.”

She grinned. “Why? Are you offering?”

Naruto appeared beside them. “What’s this about haircuts?”

“Nothing,” Sasuke grumbled.

“Are you cutting hair now, Sasuke?” Naruto asked.

“I don’t think you’d be very good at it,” Sakura kindly informed him. Sasuke scowled. This was not a skill he intended to master, but he was offended all the same.

Lastly, at the start of their lunch break, Sasuke leaned back against a tree and fell into a short, shallow doze. When he jerked awake his surroundings trembled in a perfect clarity. He could count the feathers of the hawk soaring above him.

“Sasuke?” a voice called. “Don’t you want to eat?”

Sakura knelt beside him. Her brow furrowed. She did not drop her gaze, looking straight into his red eyes. His Sharingan jumped to memorize every detail of her face.

Sasuke blinked hard. Sometimes the smallest triggers activated his new bloodline trait: a twig snapping, a cold breeze on the back of his neck, the motion of waking up from sleep. Sasuke’s vision swam as the scope of his awareness returned to normal. Naruto approached them, swinging his bagged lunch, and the movement made Sasuke’s head throb. He shut his eyes.

“Seven thousand, one hundred and twenty-eight,” he murmured, as Naruto sat beside him.

“What?” Sakura asked, voice soft.

After a beat of silence, Naruto said, “Sasuke-kun, you need a longer nap. You’re slipping.”

Sasuke experimented with opening his eyes and this time was successful. He fixed his teammates with a stern stare and jerked his chin up. “That’s how many feathers are on that bird.”

As one, Sakura and Naruto looked up to the bird circling over their heads.

“He’s right.” Kakashi’s shadow fell over them. Shading his eyes from the sun, he tilted his head towards Sasuke. “It gets easier to switch between, as time goes on.”

Sasuke stilled. Once, a whole clan shared in the dizzying experience of wielding a Sharingan. Now there was only Kakashi to guide him.

Kakashi wandered off, and the genin ate lunch together in the shade of the tree. They sat in their normal arrangement—Sakura in the middle, Naruto on her right, Sasuke on her left. As they traveled, this was the way they sat down to eat. It was even how they arranged their bedrolls at night. Everything was as it should be.

Except Naruto’s word stuck in Sasuke’s mind. Slipping. That’s exactly what it was. He had slipped through the cracks of his time and into another.

Sakura bumped her knee against his own. “Are you all right?”

Sasuke nodded.

He felt seen. It was not such a bad thing.

.

.

With training and preparing for the chunin exams, the slipping fell to the back of Sasuke’s mind. Then in the Forest of Death, he awoke to see Sakura with newly shorn hair. She was one step closer to the girl he saw in that waking dream. He had failed to protect her, and now she was in pain.  

The dark lines of his new curse mark leaked over his skin, and he unleashed all his power against the ones who hurt her, until Sakura begged him to stop. Only her touch brought him back to himself.

.

. 

Sasuke was leaving Konoha in the night when he slipped again.

It was sudden this time, violent, like the ground giving way to a pit beneath his feet. Daylight blinded him. His head spun. Pins and needles pricked his fingers.

“Sasuke-kun,” someone said.

Sasuke couldn’t speak. It had taken every last shred of his willpower to leave. And now she was in front of him again like it had been nothing.

“I see,” Sakura said. “You’re leaving now, aren’t you?”

She was taller than him. They were on a dark street, but he could make out the white coat she wore.

The worst part was the kindness on her face. The understanding. Like she knew.

His eyes stung.

With a jolt Sasuke returned to his own time. He was alone in the dark woods, three hours from Konoha. Still close enough to return. Sasuke touched his face and discovered he had been crying.

He wondered if Sakura was cold where he had left her. 

His curse mark itched, then it throbbed. Sasuke set off again.

Two days later, Naruto caught up with him. They confronted each other against the waterfall.

“Sakura told me not to come,” Naruto said. “She said you’d come back.”

“What does Sakura know?” he scoffed.

They fought. In the end, Sasuke was the one left standing. He left everything and everyone behind. He was strong.

.

.

.

. 

Up next: As he trains with Orochimaru, Sasuke slips to an older Sakura, who is living by the ocean. Other notes: -I started writing this fic in late July and finished in early October. When first playing around with the idea, I wrote "this cannot be another 40 page fic." Joke's on me because it became an 80 page fic, lol.

-I have not read/watched Boruto, so I am not aware of the specifics of Sasuke's time travel works in that verse. In this story, it is something he can't control. Please ignore any discrepancies!

-This whole fic was inspired by @theredconversegirl's fic The Red Loop, with art by myr_art. Thank you to them for their inspiration! 

Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know if you enjoyed :)

#sasusaku #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku fanfic #catflorist #ss fic #ss #my ss #my fic #the time being

[elsanna-shenanigans]

February Contest Submission #1: Taken but Found

words: ca. 3,200 setting: Viking AU lemon: hint cw: mention of blood

“All abled body men to the harbor!”  

Elsa flitted through the thick crowd of people, narrowly avoiding being trampled. The town crier was in the square, squawking out his premeditated lines. The barbarians were invading again. She wanted to be where the action was. As soon as the horns had sounded, she had donned her bow and quiver along with her fighting gear. Her unkempt hair fought with her as she had hurriedly woven it together in two braids that rested beneath the blue hooded scarf that covered her head.

Elsa had grown up in an orphanage as a young child hut in the streets during her teen years. Her early childhood was a bit of a blur. Whenever she attempted to dredge up her earlier memories, all it would bring were the faraway cries of a baby and the babbling voice of a toddler. She had no idea what it meant.

Whenever she had asked the staff at the orphanage where she had come from, all they would say was she had been found on a harboring ship at the tender age of 6. When Elsa had reached the age of 15, she had left the despairing orphanage and never looked back. She had spent many days spying on the army archers and was thoroughly engrossed by the activity. So, she had copped a bow and taught herself the sport.

Instead of the heavy, clunky armor the army wore, Elsa had chosen a light leather tunic with similar pants and thick boots. Her pants were held up with a belt that had a few added pouches sewn into it along with a couple of holsters that held two sharp, curved daggers. Though her boots were thick, Elsa’s steps were almost silent as she sped along the cobblestone that led to the harbor.

Elsa wasn’t supposed to be fighting. The army didn’t allow women and any people frowned upon it. Elsa didn’t give it a second thought. The young woman would always be at the center of the action, no matter what. She was tired of the Norse thinking they had a claim to anything and everything. 

Finally, Elsa had reached the edge of the harbor. Already, she could see vast hulls of the dragon-esque ships. She spotted at least a dozen of them. Her blue eyes scoured the harbor, pride swelling in her bosom as she saw the extent of the English army standing wait. She tore her gaze from the foggy scene before her as she searched for a highpoint. The steeple.

Elsa crossed the harbor to the steeple. She reached into the small pack that rested against her waist and retrieved the grappling hook she had successfully confiscated in the last Norse raid. 

Swirling the hook a few times, Elsa gave it a hefty toss onto the steeple’s roof. A toothy grin split her face as it caught, and she gave it a few tugs to assure its solidarity. Readjusting her bow, she placed her booted feet on the brick wall of the church and began the steep climb.

—–

Anna felt excitement thrum throughout her entire body. Every nerve ending stood at attention like the soldiers of the English army that stood defiantly in the harbor that her ship was currently approaching. Her red locks flowed down the back of her head as she had inserted a clip to hold the long strands back. Thick leathers with fur lining the hems encased her body. 

Following a similar pattern were the fuzzy boots that adorned her feet. She stood tall, with an expression of defiance on her fair face.

A shield rested on her left wrist and was held at a slight angle away from her body. Her sword, dubbed Iduna, lay across her back, patiently waiting for its turn. The fog slithered through the dozen ships alongside Anna’s. It was about an hour before dawn, yet the day had already begun.

“Anna!” A booming voice roared, and she turned to face the boulder that was her father. Asger clomped up the stairs with his heavy boots to stand at the bow alongside his daughter. A thick, coarse hand stroked the red-grey beard that hung from Asger’s pointy chin. He cast a sideways glance at his daughter, pride inflating his chest.

“Are ya’ ready, daughter? You look beautiful. If only yer’ mother and sister were around to see this day. Alas, it is the reason we raid the harbor today,” He rumbled, gravelly voice slipping into Anna’s ears. The corners of her rosy lips lifted in an excited smile.

“Yes, father. We fight for them,” she replied, reaching up to withdraw the long sword from its sheath. She held it near her mouth and pressed her lips against the cold blade, saying a light prayer. Her father mirrored the action before lifting his sword high into the air.

“Onward!”

———————–

Elsa had comfortably positioned herself in the bell tower of the steeple. She was currently sitting with her legs crossed and hands clamped over her knees. The blonde’s eyes were shut tight as she mediated a few moments. She reflected briefly on her life as a so-called “street-rat”. Alongside teaching herself archery, she learned stealth skills, dexterity, and she worked out. Her arms were well-defined from her archery while her legs got their definition from all the running, she did.

Horns cut through the serenity of the morning and her lids flew open. Elsa crouched and moved steadily to the edge of the tower. She quickly removed her bow from her back and an arrow, placing it on the string. The tower was close enough to see the hundreds of barbarians that poured from the ships. Adrenaline filtered through Elsa’s veins and her heart pounded in her ribcage. A wave of sound ascended to Elsa’s keen ears as the Norse thundered onto the harbor and all hell broke loose.  

Almost giddy with excitement, Elsa began firing arrows off in rapid succession. The muscles that lined the entire length of her arm flexed and loosened as she drew the string of the bow taut over and over. None of her arrows were ever aimed for the kill, just for injury. She enjoyed the fight, not mindless killing.

It was quite a while before the barbarians took notice of the silent archer from above, but once they did, attention locked tight on Elsa. The blonde back-peddled, prepared for such a scenario. She straightened and stepped over to the opposite ledge. 

She dipped a hand into the satchel at her waist to remove her grapple while her other hand reached behind her to retrieve an arrow. She merged the two before settling it into her bow, aiming for the next roof over. 

Elsa let the string go and watched as the hook landed perfectly against the brick chimney of the next building over. She tied the other end around a beam, pulling it taut. Slinging her bow over her back, Elsa grasped the rope and easily pulled herself onto it, balancing carefully. Cautiously, but quickly, she tip-toed the woven material and had made it halfway to the other building when her ears caught sounds of hooks digging into the brick of the church.

A slanted grin crossed Elsa’s face, knowing full well it was entirely cloaked in darkness by her hood as she chanced a glimpse behind her. That would be her downfall. A sudden pain began in the right side of her chest before webbing itself into all her nerves. She tore her eyes from the Norse climbing into the tower, pointing specifically at her as she attempted to decipher what happened. She was quite astonished to see that an arrow jutted from her chest. Red hues darkened the lighter part of her leather tunic as her vision began to swim. 

She felt warm and her hood was blown free from her head, causing her braided platinum hair and pale face to be exposed. Her gaze jerked to below her, desperately attempting to find the culprit.

Elsa did not expect to see a young, redheaded barbarian, standing over a fellow unconscious Norse with a thick boot planted on his chest. A bow lay next to the man on the ground. It was clear this redheaded stranger had knocked him unconscious after the arrow had been shot. As Elsa’s mind fogged over with the loss of blood in her veins, she couldn’t help but notice how eerily familiar those teal eyes appeared.

Those eyes bore down on her as Elsa began to teeter on the rope, knees weakening and her head was spinning faster than your average top toy. It took seconds for Elsa to lose her balance entirely, as the pain became her world and gravity turned into her enemy. Before Elsa slipped from the waking world, she was able to register the Norse catching her in her powerful arms.

———

Elsa stirred, a groan slipping from between dry, cracked lips which she let her tongue swipe across.  It hurts…  She pried open her eyes, blinking rapidly in the dim light. Her head was a muddled mess as she tried to piece everything together.

“Don’t move,” a feminine voice slithered into Elsa’s ears and her head whipped to the side where the source of it sat. It was the Norsewoman she had seen before her fall.  She…saved me? Wait no… that must mean…  

Completely dismissing the stranger’s words, Elsa flew into an upright position and all oxygen departed from her lungs with a gasp from the pain that sprouted from her chest. Elsa attempted to bring a hand to her chest but found they were roped together. Glancing down at her bound hands surfaced another startling fact: her torso was bare aside from the bandages that wrapped around the wound and her breasts.  

She desperately struggled to ignore the pain while fighting her restraints and inching away from the woman to drink in her surroundings. It took her a few fleeting moments to realize that she was in the hull of a Norse ship.  Despite the pain coursing through her, Elsa tumbled forward and jumped to her feet, not allowing a speck of it to show on her stoic face.

“Where are you taking me and why are my hands tied?” she demanded of the barbarian, who had her hands outstretched and was slowly rising from her crouched position. There was an oil lamp in her hand, Elsa now realized, and cast a diminutive glow upon the redhead. Elsa’s eyes scanned over her precise features for the first time: Brave, soft, teal eyes peered at Elsa, resting above fair, freckled, high cheekbones. Prominent Scandinavian features filtered down from the woman’s face and to her lithe form. 

The pain became background noise as her eyes discovered the extremely defined muscles of the Norse’s arms as she crossed them along her bust, which was still encased in her traditional fighting leathers.

“I saw you from the tower, falling our men and women,” the woman began, leaning back against a wall, her feet crossed at the ankles. It took a moment for Elsa to register the woman was weaponless as her shield and sword were set on a table next to her. Elsa’s other items resided alongside the sword and shield.

“My father demanded I take care of you. When I reached your hiding spot, I was taken aback by the fact you were… a woman. Not sure I have ever seen a woman in the English army. Though, are you even with the army? You had no symbols anywhere… Either way, father wanted you alive, not dead. That brute would have struck you dead had I not knocked his aim off,” the stranger said, pushing off the wall and strolling to the table. She picked up Elsa’s bow and swept her hand across the top limb, and Elsa watched as the former let her fingers trace the intricate designs.

“My name is Anna, by the way. This is an incredibly beautiful bow. Did you make this yourself?” The Norse asked as if this was just an everyday conversation and Elsa hadn’t been kidnapped from her home.  Her heart twisted.  Where…

“Cut out the chivalry, barbarian,” Elsa spat, gritting her teeth. “Where are you taking me?” 

The woman who was named Anna replaced the bow on the table with a quiet sigh. Elsa backed up even further, molding herself to the corner of the room.

“We are returning home with our loot,” she said simply, and Elsa’s heart twisted within her chest.  Returning home… 

“Where is that, exactly?” Elsa demanded, her heart erupting in her ears. Anna’s teal eyes locked on Elsa’s blue ones. There was a guarded emotion in the redhead’s eyes, coupled again with that familiarity Elsa had previously seen.

“Norway,” Anna replied, watching Elsa’s face, gauging her reaction. 

Although Elsa’s heart sank deep within her chest and fear radiated throughout her entire being, her face remained stoic. No signs of stress showed except the slight clenching of her already fisted hands.  Anna didn’t miss this small detail.  She also noticed the redness increasing beneath the blonde woman’s bandages and Anna took a small step forward.  She frowned at the way the other woman pressed herself further into the corner.

“I need to look at your wound,” Anna said softly, gesturing to the now-soiled bandage. Elsa cast a glance at her chest, head spinning as she saw the amount of rose-colored shade spreading through the fabric. She clenched her teeth, ignoring the pain erupting from the wound. 

Sweat was forming on her forehead from the exertion. Anna took a couple of steps forward but stopped when the woman threw a glare that could peel back layers of paint. Anna raised her hands until they were level with her chest.

“Don’t touch me,” Elsa said, through her clenched teeth. The room was spinning a bit, or was it just her head? She extended a hand, steadying herself with the wall. Anna knew it was difficult, but she wished the blonde woman would recognize that Anna wanted nothing more than to help.

“I have a pain remedy…” Anna’s voice trailed off, leaving room for the other woman to fill the pause with a name. Elsa scoffed, sweat now dripping down her face. It was getting a bit harder to breathe. She wavered, just a bit.

“Fine. But no funny business, just… make the pain stop,” Elsa said, her voice raspy. She pushed off the wall and stumbled toward the other woman. Anna gestured for her to sit on the table opposite the one containing her weapons. Elsa grudgingly obliged, inhaling sharply as she hopped onto the flat surface. Anna rummaged through a drawer in a desk near the table, turning around after retrieving fresh bandages and a jar containing what appeared to be some sort of salve.

Anna settled a light hand upon Elsa’s unharmed shoulder. Elsa took a deep breath as the calloused hand resting on her pale skin moved downward, dexterous fingers slipping beneath the used fabric. Anna brought her other hand to the same area and Elsa tensed when she saw a knife between her fingers. Elsa held her breath, letting it loose when the redhead cut through the material and began unraveling it a bit.

Warm fingers brushed against Elsa’s clammy skin, sending shivers through her body. Sweat was still dripping from her as her taut breasts were exposed to the Norse’s eyes. A hiss fell through her white teeth as the air drifted against her exposed wound. 

As Anna untwisted the lid to the jar of salve, Elsa risked a glance at the wound. She immediately regretted the decision as the room spun more, and she teetered on the edge of the table, threatening to fall.

Anna’s strong arms once again enveloped Elsa’s shivering form. One of those arms brushed against her left breast, and an almost inaudible groan escaped Elsa. 

The pounding in her ears was deafening, but she could hear the redhead rambling an apology. She stole a glance at her and was a bit shocked to see a furious blush spread across the freckled cheeks. Her eyes met those teal orbs once more, and she realized at that moment how mesmerizing they could be.

“I apologize once again,” the woman was saying, as Elsa was able to finally focus on the sounds emanating from her mouth. “I- I honest to Gods didn’t mean to invade you. I would never do that. Even if I’ve been raised by the filthy barbarians that plunder and-“ the redhead’s voice trailed off as she pressed a towel against Elsa’s wound. Elsa winced, tied hands clenching together.  Why… do I find her rambling… adorable? I must be coming down with a fever… hallucinating an attraction to my captor…

Elsa watched as Anna discarded the towel before dipping her fingertips into the jar, coating them in the salve. The blonde held her breath as Anna gingerly applied the salve to the wound, and immediately the pain dulled to an ache for the time being. She tried not to focus on the languid strokes of Anna’s slender fingers or the way her nipples tightened from the delicate touch. Finally, the torturous moment ended, and Anna removed her hand. Elsa suddenly felt extremely exhausted and her eyes felt heavy.

Anna resealed the salve, wiping her hands on a towel before grabbing the bandages and trying to calm her own racing heart. There was no denying she was attracted to this muscular, mysterious archer. She gnawed her bottom lip as she unfurled the roll of bandages and began to wrap Elsa’s chest once more. She didn’t dismiss the nipples that strained from the delectable-looking lumps of flesh, but she also didn’t allow her eyes to linger.

After what seemed like hours, Anna finished with the fresh bandage and used her knife to cut off the roll and seal it against Elsa’s body. The blonde woman’s stunning blue eyes were fighting to stay open and her head kept falling onto her chest. Anna took a moment to admire her beauty once more before making quick work of the ropes around the woman’s wrists. Elsa flinched as strong fingers massaged her aching wrists, but she relaxed into the touch a bit. It was making her even sleepier.

“Why… did you remove the rope?” Elsa mumbled, as Anna wrapped an arm around pale, muscled shoulders, another fact she made sure to note. Pressing against Elsa’s uninjured shoulder, she gently lay the woman on the table.  I wonder if this woman realizes how beautiful she truly is…

“You need to rest. Even if you wanted to attack me or do anything of the sort, you’re much too wounded right now to be a threat,” Anna replied, unable to help herself from brushing stray blonde strands from the woman’s sweaty forehead. Anna instantly removed her hand, brow furrowing in confusion.  

“Anyway, we should arrive home within 12 hours. You’ll be locked in here until then. I will leave you water and a meal for when you wake up,” Anna said quietly, moving to the other table to retrieve the weapons. As she settled them on her shoulders and made her way to the door, her hand paused on the handle as the blonde behind her cleared her throat. The next words uttered by the Englishwoman caused the barbarian’s heart to still as she was suddenly informed of why the blonde seemed so familiar. A shudder of shame rippled through her body as well.

“My name is Elsa, by the way.”

#elsanna #submission #february 2021 contest #prompt: ancient worlds #lemon #cw: mentions of blood

[zamilemzizi]

A trip down lockdown memory lane!

A trip down memory lane

As my business steadily builds itself back up, with a new face and some Covid-influenced changes, I look back at what it was like for a few months last year as just the “Mom.” The South African lockdown, one of the strictest in the world at that time, forced most of us Marketing and PR SME owners to close our doors and focus on creating a safe and “new normal” environment for ourselves and our families.

My parents both contracted the Corona Virus and so, it was left up to me to care for ALL five grandchildren for a few months. Including my own children, I had two five-year-olds’ (one boy; Wandi and one girl; Koli), one nine-year-old girl (Thotse), a twelve-year-old girl (Lungi) and the legend himself, my two-year-old son (Bugsy) whom you will have read a lot about on my personal Facebook page. As if that was not enough, we rescued an eight-week-old puppy (Luna) too!

Being a person known for preferring the company of all the Mzizi grandchildren, I was up for the challenge of this time spent being reacquainted with the daily struggle of just-being-the-mom-with-no-work without the pressure of having to go to work.

I acknowledge that my experience of this time is grossly different to that of a majority of my fellow countrymen/women, who struggled to make ends meet. Zam’s Hive started a fund, which generously received funds donated by almost ALL of my clients, close friends and colleagues from my place of work. We used these funds to assist families who wrote in via WhatsApp and SMS stating what their urgent needs were and paired them with the correct donor. I was astounded at how the people I knew were able to look beyond their own experience of the Lockdown, and were able to give the little (or lot) that they had to keep hope alive.

However, being the stay-at-home mom yielded quite a few hilarious experiences, which naturally, I shared on social media as they happened. Here are some of these posts. I hope they make you chuckle a bit at my expense. I hope they remind you that no matter how bleak the situation, our inner circle, our families, our children, the people that matter most to us are the ones we should keep our focus on.

How the wars began…

Wandi’s benevolent fart

Raising boys is a BREEZE!

My Wandi has reached that age where every hug and cuddle is a conscious decision on his part to be with me. It says, ' I choose to be near YOU. I choose you, mommy'

So imagine my joy as I was working in my office and my big boy chose that moment to sit on my lap...

He sat facing me, flashed his special smile and said' 'Mommy, let me show you how much I love you'

He put his hands on my shoulders and closed his beautiful brown eyes. I could see him mentally reaching deep within himself in order to share what he had to say. Then...

I felt it. A persistent drill-like hammering on my sturdy thigh where his bony bum was perched.

The stench was instant and the fog it created in my mind was confusion personified. I could not immediately compute that my baby came all this way just to fart on me. As realization dawned on me, my little angel held onto me just a little bit tighter to keep me in place as the hammer-drill was still operating. My thin leggings were no barrier from the barrage of bodily functions battering my poor skin.

During this assault, Wandi did not change his facial expression at all. He looked like a little Buddha bestowing a blessing upon a lesser mortal.

When he was done, he nimbly sprang off my leg and bestowed a beguiling cherubic smile upon me. Slowly reversing from the room with his cheesy smile and eyes closed, he blessed me with his benevolent ' enjoy the smell mommy' and quietly closed the door.

Bugsy drinks shit water

I'm on my knees begging for this changeling to be taken. Return Bugsy pre-terrible twos to me please!

I went into the toilet for a teensy while. I'd been holding it in for some time chasing my kids around. To my knowledge, fake Bugsy was safely chilling on my bed.

As my empty bladder and I float out the bathroom, changeling proudly displays a cup of water he is drinking...now this is a problem because all taps and cups are beyond his reach. This cup looks like the dirty one I ignored on the floor a teensy while back- are you judging me Karen?!

I frantically urge fake son to show me if he got water from the other toilet. He proudly replies, ' I no drink here Wandi peepee here' This is good. It's great actually. Wandi has diarrhea and drinking from his toilet could kill someone. Never mind Corona.

So I drag the smirking not-really-my-son into the kitchen to wash this mysterious cup. At this stage I'm fuming at the lord thinking 'turn this crap into wine NOW'

As I wash the still alcohol free cup, I turn to find swopped-at-birth guy smacking his lips and drinking from the bucket mqobothi style.

MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT!

I used water and Jik to clean dog poop just now. I spilled the water but clearly not all of it. What's worse here? Jik poisoning or dog poop poisoning?

The terror child is ok. I gave him milk and surrendered the rest to his creator.

I'm ok. I have a new twitch in my eye and I think I might have peed my pants a little. But otherwise baaah I'm good.

No really.

Just fine.

Look- fake son took the tin of milk and smeared the stuff on himself.

I'm just FINE!

Then the tensions were rising

The stand off

In a bid to demonstrate his defiance of my authority, my two year old has taken the long life milk and some shopping bags to an undesirable corner of the house. He has boldly announced that, 'I puttinnnin me in noty cona' This is his strategy to deprive my authority of putting him in a corner myself. The standoff continues...

Sulking in the shower

I swear I don't make this stuff up...

Wandi just played with matches and his cousins came to tell on him. Naturally I gave him 'the look' times 10. He says to me,

'I know you're cross with me and wont talk to me.'

He stalks off to the shower and sits there while singing his new and spontaneously composed struggle song. The words weren't too clear but this is what I heard:

Take me away in peace, take me away in peace.

 Please note he has taken to eating some of his meals in this shower.

Can someone please send me a bottle of gin??!      Its for the kids.

 The breaking point

Exacting revenge in small ways

My kids broke my hair clippers machine while I was cutting them. So now I'm leaving them with unfinished cuts because one needs to take revenge wherever the opportunity may present itself-even if it's your own kids. They think they know me. Mxim!

 Mom flu strike

I've been in bed with flu for a week now. During this my kids haven't given me an inch of space and rest.

I'm still a horse, jungle gym, chef, personal snot cleaner and unwilling audience to dance shows and song decompositions.

Tonight was just the worst! I went to the chemist for more meds and so needed a nap from the trip. Only to realize that I'd over slept and it was supper time.

After a mad dash to cook, serve and feed the royal highnesses, I'd had enough.

Where am I now? What am I doing now? These are all relevant questions I'm happy to answer for you.

I'm in my bedroom. For the first time since I became a mother, I have done the only sensible thing a tired parent can do...

I'VE LOCKED MY BEDROOM DOOR BIYAAACHES!

The situation update is as follows:

Hostile!

1.  Two year old has attempted breaking door down

I DON'T CARE!

2. Five year old has resorted to creepy body plastering against door and quietly chanting 'mooommyyyy can we have ice cream while you die?'

I  DON'T   CARE

3. In a rare show of solidarity the boys are now howling like wolves outside the door, throwing in the odd 'moooommmy where are youuuu'

I    D O N T   C A R E!

4. Nine year old niece has increased the volume and frequency of her coughing

IIIIIIIII DOOOOOOOONT CAAAAAAARE!

I'm at peace in my warm bed. Let the siege continue I have all that I need in here. A bathroom, all the toilet paper in the house, the only phone with airtime and did I mention -I'm the only person tall enough to cook. Muhahuahua!

They will know me!

 The resolution?

Wandi prays for peace

So as usual the kids were acting up and driving me crazy before bedtime. This time however, the transgressions were extreme.

Someone didn't pee INSIDE the toilet but decided to mark his territory next to it instead.

Another decided to generously leave food on a dinner plate and put it in the kitchen sink for Santa maybe.

Another was dejectedly roaming the passage without pajama bottoms like a homeless person. Left to wander the night in shame and bottomlessness.

This was the last straw and I blew my top off.

EVERYONE TO BED WITHOUT A STORY NOW!

Even the little one understood that Armageddon was nigh, and scurried into bed as fast as his fat stubby legs could carry him (only half way up the bed usually).

In an unusually respectful and hesitant tone, Wandi bravely reminded me that I forgot to pray. So fine! I asked God to please help me make my children good etc.

Wandi again bravely offered to pray too and this is where he played his master plan into action (he never wants to pray):

Wandi: Dear God, please make all my dreams come true. The end.

 Yes. He said the end and not AMEN. I felt a reluctant smile coming on but I was wise to the enemy.

The next morning the kids all came to greet me in that way guilty kids do hoping for a cease-fire.

'Good morning rakhali' etc.

Then the master played his Ace move.

Wandi: In the name of Jesus, good morning everyone!

 How could I remain grumpy after my son evoked the name of Jesus?!

He's goooooood. One point to Wandi. None to me.

 Please subscribe to my blog and follow me on social media for more insights into; what goes on in the life of a working mom building an empire. All the links are below. My women’s network as well as my courses are also available on this site.

#workingmama #workingmom #zamshive #liveyourbestlife #zamilemzizi #startsomething

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Homeward Bound - Leo x Isabella

Part 2 of this AU. Please read Part 1: Enough before continuing

Leo must say his goodbyes before returning to Cordonia

@drakewalkerfantasy @kimmiedoo5 @rainbowsinthestorm @lorirwritesfanfic @lorircreates @hopefulmoonobject @liam-rhys @speedyoperarascalparty  @rafasgirl23415 @mom2000aggie 

Whilst Isabella wasted no time to ensure that the family’s vast fortune was secured, Leo packed the last of his things. Angrily zipping up his suitcase, Leo looked over his shoulder as Javier entered the Monarch’s Suite. He stood, hands behind his back clearing his throat, “Your Majesty... I have been asked to escort you...” Leo pulled his suitcase from the bed roughly as he turned, “Javier... I don’t need babysitting...” attempting to push passed until Javier extended his arm stopping Leo in his tracks, “I would heed caution Your Majesty...” his dark features stared Leo down, “You may be able to fight one on one with me, but there are a row of guards outside with live ammunition. Let’s do this the easy way or would you rather? I am only following orders Sir...” Leo stood firm, his fist that was clenched firmly slowly released. He knew that Javier had only ever worked under Isabella’s instruction “Fine...” he took a deep breath, “...but I want to see the kids before I go. Under no circumstances are the guards to follow me, only you...” Javier nodded as he lowered his arm, “If you keep your word, as shall I...”

Leo’s eyes darted from left to right as the Guards were lined up waiting for their opportunity until Javier lowered his hand, “Stand down...” he spoke calmly with a level of authority in his voice as the guards lowered their weapons, bowing in acknowledgement. “Please arrange for the suitcases to be brought to the car... the King and I will meet you there...” It was a slight deviation to the divide et impera protocol but Javier felt his heart sink as he escorted Leo towards the Princesses playroom. Unlike Jimena; this was not a task that Javier took any pleasure in. He still privately respected his soon to be former King - Leo’s choice didn’t reflect badly on him as a person; whatever choice he made, he would have been the bad guy anyway. According to Isabella and Leo’s prenuptial agreement; if Leo was to walk out on their marriage, he would be stripped of all Laurentian titles immediately without hesitation leaving him extremely vulnerable to the enemies he and Isabella had made over the years. Now stateless, Leo would have no other choice to return to Cordonia. Knocking on the playroom door, Leo opened the door watching as his two daughter’s were pretending to have a tea party with their stuffed animals dressed head to toe in Disney Princess outfits, “Room for one more?”

Leo chuckled as he sat down on the floor between them, “I hope there’s no champagne being served here!” Alessandra smiles coyly as Natalia put her hands into her hips, “No papa, it’s a tea party...” she giggled as her sister placed a long blonde wig on top of his head, “and... you have to be a Princess...” Leo shrugged his shoulders sighing playfully, “Ok...ok... whatever you want babygirl...” but deep down, watching the twins as they played broke his heart. As Javier knocked the door, Leo shook his head, “Lia... Sasha... can you come here a second?” Both of them stood side by side as Leo kneeled in front of them. Removing the blonde wig, he spoke quietly trying to smile through the pain. He took of their hands each into his own, “You know papa loves you with all his heart don’t you?” The girls nodded as Leo bit down on his lip before continuing, “I need to go back and help Uncle Liam with a few things...” Natalia’s hazel eyes narrowed, cogs turning in her head as her sister pouted, stamping her feet, “No... you’re only back!”

Leo lifted their hands that he held, kissing them as he felt a lump forming in his throat, “It won’t be long sweetheart, I promise... but you need to be good for your mama and help her look after Nico when I’m gone ok?” Both Alessandra and Natalia nodded as Leo reluctantly let go of their small hands, taking them into his embrace, “I love you both so much...” he whispered, kissing both of their cheeks. Natalia pulled away as she looked at Leo, her eyes glazed over with tears, “Are you going away because we were bad?” “God no...” Leo slowly shook his head, “No... no... babygirl... never...” Wiping her tears with his thumb, Leo tried to smile through the sadness, “Uncle Liam and Auntie Sienna just need some help that’s all...” placating her with his response. As Javier opened the door slowly, Leo brought them in for a final hug and kiss before rising to his feet, “I’ll see you little monsters soon... and keep me a seat at the tea party!” Quietly the girls returned to their playing and Leo nodded to Javier, “Time to go...” he looked down at his Rolex watch, “...the baby’s sleeping I don’t want to wake him...”

There was an eerie silence as Leo and Javier walked side by side through the Palace’s atrium to the waiting vehicle outside. Each stride felt like a lifetime but Leo had made his choice. If Liam couldn’t protect the Cordonian throne, someone had to. He couldn’t stand back and watch his beloved Cordonia fall to ruins and if Isabella couldn’t understand that, that was her problem. Cordonia was his home; descended from the King’s before him. Leo’s blood boiled at the thought of someone interfering with his family’s affairs. He needed to do something; anything to make sure that the Rys name was still feared and respected amongst the noble houses of Cordonia. They needed to be reminded that the power their houses commanded was a luxury not a necessity - government could easily take their place. Leo extended his hand out towards Javier, “It’s been an honour...” Javier nodded as he grasped Leo’s hand in solidarity, “Likewise Your Majesty... Please take care...” Leo rolled his eyes upward, glancing up at the top window noticing the curtains twitching. Isabella’s petite frame was visible from the window watching helplessly as Leo opened the car door to return to Cordonia. She knew she couldn’t change his mind, no matter how hard she tried.

His travels to Cordonia were less Royal than they were economy catching the last flight out of Cantera de Pizarra to Cordonia’s capital under the protective midnight sky. His tall 6’3” frame struggled with the limited room but with Isabella grounding all Royal transportation, this was the only option. The flight was sparely booked giving Leo some breathing space. He left his credit card with the air steward on the condition that she bring him as much bourbon as legally possible to calm his thoughts and to quell his undeniable guilt. Throwing back the wonderful, soothing dark caramel hued liquid, Leo winced shaking his head as the sensation burned his throat. The bourbon was harsh, not as smooth as he was acquainted to; but the cheap liquid had enough alcoholic content to keep his mind from running away with itself as his sea green eyes were transfixed on the darkened abyss from the cabin window. As Leo felt a small tap on his shoulder, he jumped slightly causing the air steward to smile, “I’m sorry Sir... but your card seems to...” Leo chuckled to himself, removing another card from his wallet handing it to the tall, lean, redhead, “It seems my wife has caught up with me...” switching the cards out he winked at her, “Make this one a double...”

As the Boeing 737 landed, the blacked out Cadillac Escalade was parked outside the airport gate flanked by Cordonian Royal Guard, “Your Royal Highness...” Bastien bowed, “Long time no see...” he began to laugh as he opened the passenger door of the jeep. “Didn’t think you missed me that much...” Leo smiled warmly patting Bastien’s cheek as he chuckled, “Always Bas... I just can’t help myself when it comes to you...” The drive to the Cordonian Palace was stoic, Leo wasn’t his usual cocky self as Bastien drove through the quiet country roads; the only companions they had were the constellations above them. “What the hell are you doing back here?” Bastien turned to Leo as he absently stared out the window looking up at the stars as they twinkled in the dark Cordonian sky. His broad shoulders fell whilst his sea green eyes searched desperately towards the heavens for an answer, “Bella doesn’t need me, she never did...” Leo absentmindedly ran his fingers through his dishevelled sandy blonde hair before dragging his hand down his face tiredly. The former Crown Prince of Cordonia was exhausted, “... she’s one of the strongest, resilient people I know but Liam... he’s my brother and I can’t leave him behind...”

#The Royal Romance #playchoices #choices stories you play #Royal Romance #Prince Leo #King Liam #Queen Isabella #choices: stories you play #playchoices fanfic

[i-loves-my-lemurs]

Hi, I was reading your writers commentary. I love it so much! Do you have any commentary on "Shadows and Terror"? Its my personal favorite. I'd also love to see some commentary on your lovely sugarbuns fic.

Ah, thank you! Sorry it took me so long to get to this, I'm still drowning in coursework and stuff, but I appreciate the ask!

This was my first oneshot I wrote for this fandom, Ted centric this time! I just wanted to see the characters acknowledge their trauma a bit more, so I wrote this for Ted and Pancho. Enjoy the commentary!

.............

*One jab after another at his skin with that sharp spear... water suddenly burst from every wall and flooded them and-*

Ted's nightmare was a mash up of his various scary experiences from Exiled, because of course I couldn't just pick one! He was scared while fighting the war, combined with the loneliness and terror of being cooped up in the submarine, thinking he was trapped alone with a monster. As well as the sub sinking, that couldn't have been fun for him.

This takes place some time after the victory party, but slightly before the first episode of season 5. Just enough time to put some distance between the adrenaline of the war and the partying, and allow the weight of the experience to truly catch up with Ted.

*his eyes wide in terror. He frantically looked this way and that, checking the shadows around the room*

The title of the fic is incooperated in this paragraph, but it actually took me a super long time to pick a title. I eventually re-read some sections and thought, yeah this sounds good. Shadows and Terror still sounds a little fancy for this work tbh.

*looked up to see Dorothy standing about him*

I decided not to being Ted and Dorothy's marital problems into this, so they're very sweet with each other and they both care a lot.

(Also instead of about it's meant to say above, argh, embarrassing typo!)

*She quickly released him, seeing how jumpy he was*

Dorothy doesn't quite know what's going on with Ted, but she's trying to be supportive the best way she can.

*it reminded him of those long nights in the submarine when Julien*

Ted's train of thought runs away with him here, he's still half caught up in the dream poor guy, and suddenly he's having a flashback to the sub.

*Pancho was whining about their whining*

I can see Pancho just getting very fed up with consistent negativity when he's trying to focus on driving the sub, even if he too is just concerned about the kingdom. I wrote this fic before I started shipping panchulien actually, the early days.

*Ted had just quietly sat down in the corner of the room,*

Poor Ted, I imagine he definitely wasn't complaining as much as the others, he had been alone on the sub for longer than them and just needed a hug.

*All he could hear now was his own breathing, short and panting, and Dorothy, oh heck, she was talking*

Ted zones back to reality, the fic is written from his POV so you can read along his thought process. As he comes back to reality, realising Dorothy is talking completely throws him off guard.

*I just... I guess I'm still jumpy from the whole mountain lemur, submarine fiasco."*

Ted sort of dances around the issue, he doesn't even want to directly mention the word 'war'. He only hints at the things that are scaring him to try and keep Dorothy's worry to a minimum, and because talking about it will make it even more real.

*rubbed the fur on his head, something which he often found soothing*

These lemurs need to groom each other more!!! I get the feeling Ted and Dorothy might like physical contact if one of them is upset (not if they're upset because of each other obviously), but grooming would be a comfort to many of the lemurs, especially physically affectionate Ted.

*tried to force himself to relax*

Poor leem, he just wants the scary stuff to be over so he can be alright and be sunny old Ted again, but unfortunately for him, things aren"t that simple.

*his tail stiffening like it did under imposed threat. He even heard a low growl being forced from his throat*

I'm not sure if I actually researched if lemurs do this, or if I made it up on the spot, but it seems like something they might do when threatened (any experts want to weigh in?).

*She could tell Ted was still tense from the way he was clutching his tail. "Look, maybe you should see Doctor S?"*

As much as Ted tries to hide it, Dorothy can tell something is wrong. Despite their problems, it's obvious that she cares very deeply for him and she just wants to see him be himself again.

*Yep!" Ted tried to sound as merry as he wanted to feel.*

Ted is definitley the sort to try and put on a facade of everything being okay, especially when Dorothy is involved. Secretly he knows it can't be like this forever, but he wants to pretend for as long as he can. Kind of like his marriage. That's also why he wants to be away from Dorothy. He knows she can see right through his little facade and he's not ready to face the truth yet.

*"At this time of night?"*

This takes place at around two in the morning, late enough for Ted, Dorothy and most of the kingdom's subjects to be asleep, but still early enough for Pancho Horst and Willie to still be partying.

*Ted couldn't help but clutch at his tail as he walked....bit his lip as he tuned into the sounds of the jungle all around him.*

Ted would totally hold his tail like a snuggie to comfort himself. And since he's already jumping at shadows, being alone in a place where the war was just fought would terrify him. Even though he's lived in the jungle all his life, the war has left him so wary of danger that everything feels very scary and unfamiliar.

*Snoring lemurs who weren't paralysed in fear by nightmares and memories.*

Ted feels a little left out and jealous as the rest of the kingdom is able to sleep and move on from the war. It makes him feel isolated, which is why finding solace with Pancho is important for him later in the fic.

*Sweet mango juice, what was he thinking*

I tried to copy Ted's exclamative speaking style here, but it doesn't quite match up to how it sounds in the show. Oop.

*sign that read 'MANGO TANGO'*

Fun fact, I tried to get the bar's title to be in italics, but a03 glitches on me and turned the entire text into italics, and because coding is a nightmare and I just decided to have it in caps instead.

*Ted recognised Horst, Willie and Pancho.*

These guys are drinking buddies. CANNON!

*"The stinking drink's in your hand, you buffoon!" Pancho said grumpily*

I'm not 100% happy with the way Pancho is written here, but it is pretty good for a first attempt. It kind of makes sense though, Pancho was having a good time with his pals and is a little annoyed that their night has to end. Also he's annoyed at himself for letting Horst get into this state.

*Pancho winked at him*

Small hint at panched in there, it was my first ship for this show and I still think it's neat.

*which he promptly collapsed onto seconds later.*

Poor Willie, he's just very done now, and needs sleep. Pancho just didn't want their partying to end, so he unwittingly wore his homies down on their night out.

*"You wanna come back to the Mango Tango with me?"*

Pancho is still very desperate to keep the night going, even if it isn't with his drinking buddies. He just needs company.

*Pancho released Ted almost immediately. "Sorry, I just, don't want to be alone." Pancho muttered, looking embarrassed.

Ted was a little surprised by his outburst, but deep down, he knew he might have done the same thing.*

Ah, poor babies. I thrive off the angst.

*exited Willie's hut and shut the door behind them.*

Courtesy.

*Together, they climbed*

Ted and Pancho sort of have a kindred spirit vibe going here. They're both going through similar experiences and avoiding them by being out at night. They need each other, even if they don't know it.

*tall tree that had many different people's huts in it*

Baobab tree? Is that what you were going for, past me?

*Pancho chuckled as he continued to stare out across the jungle. "I'm not sure if I ever went to lemur school." He said eventually.*

Now that they're up above the village and everything, Pancho's beginning to slow down and their conversations become more meaningful. He's put some distance between his late night drinking and now he just wants some solidarity in his pain and meaningful company, which, thankfully, Ted can give.

*he really didn't know much about Pancho's side of things.*

I have to wonder what the POV of people who weren't directly involved in Panchurian would be. I think Ted would probably be quite confused about what happened to Pancho, and why he suddenly has a house now and everything. But hes too polite to ask, so it's only now he finds out.

*Ted sighed and glanced up at Pancho*

Ted sort of looks up to Pancho after seeing how brave and badass he was in Exiled, and he's always veiwed Pancho as this macho, confident swagger guy, and hopes that he might be a source of consolation that could help Ted feel 'normal' again.

*"but even when that something's over and you know it's never going to hurt you again you just can't help being terrified"*

All this would definitley resonate with Pancho and the first thing he does is to encourage Ted to do what's best for him because he cares. He doesn't want Ted to end up like him because of trauma.

*"Don't apologise." He said. Ted glanced back at him. "It's, uh, it's alright to get scared by that stuff"*

Pancho shows Ted that it's okay to be scared, because if Ted continues to bottle up his feelings then he won't be Ted anymore.

*"You know I got brainwashed, right?"*

Poor Panchy just wants to open up to someone. He's been shoving his feelings down, but now it's all coming to the surface because of how he relates to Ted right now. He needs some more chances to talk about the things that haunt him.

*"Soft!" Ted exclaimed, hands on his hips.*

Ted was a little hung up on being a 'tough guy' after Exiled, so that shows through here.

*"And I'm assistant captain of the ringtail guard!"*

This little rant feels very in character for Ted. I enjoyed writing it.

*"but I just can't bring myself to pay them a wedding visit!"*

A wedding visit was a custom in the olden days of England, and I can absolutely see Ted doing it and bringing the newly weds gifts.

*leaned back against the branch they were sitting on.*

At the beginning of this scene, Pancho was clutching the tree trunk, now he's relaxed. He's feeling more comfortable with Ted.

*"Why don't you talk to your wife, she'll help."*

Helps to establish a functioning support system. Pancho knows Ted has people he can turn to, so encourages him to do so.

I am completely all for this friendship. Ted would help Pancho with his issues without hesitation, and obviously I wrote this with the idea that nobody would be completely okay after Exiled. I just wanted to explore their issues further, and for my first fic in this fandom, I think it's pretty good.

...............

And that's it! Thanks again for the ask :)

#wow i haven't posted anything in a while #(it's barely been 2 days but still) #ask #friend ask #fanfic commentary #trauma mention #fanfiction #ahkj

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Quiet

Listen, this is the most self indulgent fic ever but hey, stuff is bad right now and some domestic, about to be parents Jupeter is just what I need right now. Maybe it’s what you need too! 

If it is, I’d love if you left a comment or reblogged 

Trigger Warnings: trans pregnancy

-----

The Carte Blanche was never quiet.

An old ship, it constantly creaked and grumbled around the joints, the thick metal skin made brittle noises in the impossible cold of space around them and the vents were always making that low humming noise that everyone on the crew was grateful for because it meant the oxygen calculator was working.

It was never silent, not even now even in what Juno’s instincts and the glow of the SimSun lights told him was the early morning. Not even when he was the only one awake apparently, no one else in the family room or the kitchen, soft snoring coming from the closest bunk which was Rita’s.

He’d always been one for waking up earlier than anyone else, earlier than was really advisable. He’d always been the twin up first, tiptoeing around the creaky floorboards he’d memorised so he wouldn’t wake up Ben in the top bunk or Sarah in her own room. Those few hours had been precious to Juno for a reason he couldn’t name, maybe just because it was the only time he truly had for himself, when he didn’t need to be constantly aware of other people and didn’t have to gear every action towards helping them and being the responsible older brother he was supposed to be.

But thinking that made him feel selfish. So he’d told himself he didn’t know why he liked those still hours where it felt like he was the only person on Mars, when he could make himself a cup of hot tea and take it out onto the fire escape and watch the sun come up.

And then it became a habit. So here he was, thirty years and change later, awake at an ungodly hour that had no sun or shift in light to tether itself to, just the endless punctured darkness of deep space. And he decided to make breakfast, that way there would be some for everyone when they woke up.

The habit of taking care of other people hadn’t died either. Even when his brother and mother had.

Juno frowned, not wanting these unpleasant thoughts to crowd his head, not this early. He focused instead on cracking the eggs into the pan, stirring them slowly with butter so they formed gelatinous clouds, ready to be reheated for when everyone started trickling in. Their next job was a good few days of travel away so this was as close to a vacation as a company of thieves would ever get and no one would be in a rush. It would be nice to have a hot breakfast ready and waiting on a day like that, a day where no alarm had gone off and every hour that stretched ahead was yours alone.

So bread came next, slicing it carefully for big stacks of toast. The long haul stasis bread wasn’t great, chewier and tougher than anything made planetside but it could taste just as good when you dipped it in eggs, sprinkled it with cinnamon and fried it up. That was real vacation, no school, no work food.

He was halfway through his stack of bread when he heard the first footsteps on the tiles, echoing strangely in the metal arteries of the ship. Juno expected Buddy or Jet, who saw every day as a work day whether there was a job in sight or not but he knew who he wanted it to be. And it looked like he was in luck.

Nureyev wore their comforter wrapped around his shoulders, an old shirt of Juno’s that he would never fathom why he’d bothered to bring aboard with him and a pair of shorts. His feet, bare arms and legs would be freezing touching the cold metal but he’d been getting so hot lately that Juno didn’t think he’d care. He wasn’t wearing any jewellery save two of Juno’s string bracelets on one skinny wrist, or even his glasses, no make up and his hair was sleep matted and sticking up wildly.

He was the most beautiful thing Juno thought he’d ever seen.

“Good morning,” he kept his voice low, Nureyev was clearly still waking up, “Little early for you?”

Nureyev yawned, showing his pointed incisors the way a cat would, ambling over and slumping against Juno, “I woke up and you weren’t there. I missed you…”

Juno smiled and inhaled the sleepy, powdery scent of his hair fresh off the pillow, “I didn’t go far.”

“Too far,” Nureyev murmured, kissing his shoulder.

Juno pulled the pan off the heat and turned to hold him properly, slipping a hand past the comforter to touch the secret he knew he was hiding there, the skin tighter than it should be between his hips, the little knot riding low in his stomach. Their secret. Well, theirs and Vesper’s, who’d obviously seen it on Nureyev’s last physical scan and nearly had a heart attack. But she’d promised not to tell anyone else until they were ready.

Juno knew they were just two bundles of formless cells, he’d been doing his research and promptly making himself nauseous when his research went too far. But he was already picturing two impossibly tiny babies, fit to nestle in the palm of his hand, with Nureyev’s always bright eyes and his dark hair, as beautiful as Bianca. In his head, they looked a little like he and Ben had, when they were very small.

Nureyev smiled at his palm on his skin, “They’re awake. I think they get up when I do.”

Juno pouted, playfully and also kind of genuinely jealous, wishing he could feel them too, “Well, tell them I say hi, would ya? Go curl up on the sofa, I’ll bring you a plate over and you’re gonna eat every bite.”

Nureyev pulled a face but relented. The one thing Juno and Vesper had ever agreed on was making sure he abided by the millions of rules for pregnant people.

“Yes ma’am,” he hummed, nudging Juno with his hip as he passed. Making Juno blush was a sport to him and he needed to keep his skills honed.

Juno watched with a fond smile as he went to collapse on the sagging, ratty old sofa that had sat in the family room for as long as any of them had lived aboard. Nureyev tired easily these days and he could often be found nodding or outright dozing on that sofa, even in the middle of meetings. They were going to have to tell people soon, he was worried Buddy was going to fire Nureyev if he did it again.

He was slightly too tall for it, his feet left dangling over the arm of it. Juno grinned, wanting to kiss those skinny ankles and then move up. But not in the family room. Not since they’d been caught in any case.

He turned back to the food, finishing up then piling up a stack of the french toast, all the crispiest and darkest pieces where the syrup had started to caramelise. Nureyev liked when sweet was just starting to turn bitter. He said it was better that way. And tea as well, there had to be tea. Two cups of the decaffeinated stuff that was closer to flavoured water than actual tea but Juno had promised Nureyev he’d stay on it as long as he had to, as an act of solidarity.

Juno brought it all over as carefully as he could, managing not to spill anything, setting it down on the coffee table. As soon as the scent of vanilla and cinnamon entered his nose, Nureyev’s eyes opened lazily and he grinned.

“You’re a real gem,” he sighed, reaching out but not for any of the food, just to wind his fingers through Juno’s, “Being so good to me…”

Juno smiled and brought the fingers to his lips, kissing them lightly, looking up at him with a single dark gold eye full of love, “It’s my absolute pleasure.”

Nureyev was a miracle worker, Juno knew that much. He’d seen him disappear on command, he’d seen him fight his way out of the tightest corners, wear different faces and entirely new personalities as easily as other men would wear a new jacket. He’d seen Nureyev do a thousand things that would make anyone gasp.

But ever since they’d realised he was pregnant, since that day after a job where they’d all gotten a few scrapes and had been crowded into the infirmary, when Vesper’s face had gotten so still and eerily calm and she’d asked everyone but Nureyev to please leave the room, when Juno had stalked the hall outside the infirmary for twenty minutes before he was pulled in to see a stunned, grinning Nureyev and those tiny blurry shapes on the screen.

Ever since then, Juno had been so taken with seeing his dear thief perform such a human miracle. Nothing that would make anyone gasp or stand and stare, nothing with such a theatrical flourish Nureyev was used to. This miracle was performed slowly, with early mornings spent being sick and deep shadows under his eyes and aches and twinges. This miracle was messier and more painful and scarier. But god, when Juno looked at him, he felt like his heart was just going to burst in his chest.

Because it reminded him that Nureyev wasn’t a magician, he wasn’t an angel, he wasn’t a man who could weave starlight or pluck the planets from the sky. He was a human. And he was no less amazing and wonderful and beautiful for that.

Plus, it helped shake off the lingering sense of intimidation Juno still got when he looked at him sometimes. As fun as that could be under the right circumstances.

“What are you thinking about?” Nureyev was sat up now, nibbling on a piece of toast delicately with those pointed teeth of his that made Juno feel funny.

Juno laughed gently, squeezing the fingers he still held.

“Just thinking about how much I love you.”

#jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #trans nureyev #cw: trans pregnancy #just some soft #soft gentle times on the carte blanche #don't we all wish we were on the carte blanche and things were all okay #tpp #the penumbra podcast #fic