#Can’t load a job because it’s too big and t he customer DIDN’T TELL US

[madredhattie]

shoves my head into a pillow and screams

[jawritter]

A Thousand Years...

Chapter 3

Heart beats fast. Colors and promises. How to be brave. How can I love when I’m afraid to fall. But watching you stand alone. All of my doubt, suddenly goes away…..

Summary: A soulmate’s purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master. – Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

A new town, a new job, and a new life, one that you didn’t even expect……

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 2152

Warnings will include… Smut, language, unrequited/ requited love, cheating, and possibly more. This is gonna be a slow burn y’all!! This is brand new, so I will add to it as I know. Chapters will have warnings of their own if need be….

A/N: So my little cousin was watching breaking dawn in the living room, and I was folding clothes in the guest room… When the credits rolled and this song started, this fic hit me right in the face… I couldn’t escape it.. I don’t know yet how many chapters it will be! But If you want to be tagged let me know!! As always all mistakes are mine!! Feedback is gold!! Hope you guys enjoy this one!!

Fic Based on the Song A Thousand Years, by Christina Perr

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It was your first day at work at Family Business Brewing Company, and so far it wasn't so bad at all. The staff was all friendly, you seemed to be able to get along with everyone you’d worked with. It was nothing like working in a bar, it was safer, peaceful, and they made it as fun as they possibly could. 

You found out right away that most of the faces here were familiar ones. People apparently came in from the area locally and did so often. Having learned your co-workers by first name basis, they often knew their orders before they ever walked into the door. 

It seemed to be a nice working atmosphere. Nothing like a bunch of drunk men in a dark bar trying to follow you home, or convince you of following them home after working all night long. It was refreshing, and you could see yourself working for them for the long haul if this is what it was like on a daily basis. 

The only thing you were nervous about didn’t seem to be going to happen at all. Jensen told you yesterday that he was going to work with you some today so that you could get to know each other better. Gino had told you again later today that you would be expected to work alongside Jensen, but so far he was a no show, or at least you hadn’t seen him. 

According to Gino seeing as they called this place a “family business,” they like to treat their employees like family, and therefore they wanted to get to know each of them personally, and that Jensen tried to do this with most everyone.

That didn’t stop you from sleeping very little the night before, and when you got dressed for work this morning, you did add a little more makeup than what you had on yesterday, and also fixed your hair a little better. 

“You just wanted to make a good impression on the first day on the job,” or at least that’s what you keep telling yourself.

You refused to admit that what little bit you did sleep last night you were haunted by forest green eyes and Jensen’s perfect face. It just didn’t make any damn sense, so you refused to acknowledge it even happened. 

You convinced yourself it was because your sister-in-law was making such a big deal over him. It wasn’t abnormal to dream about people you’d meet for the first time or talked about a lot that day, wasn’t it? I mean, it wasn’t like it was a sex dream or something. It was just you and him, standing in a completely white, empty room and you were trying your best to get to him on the other side. Even though he wasn’t moving, no matter how much or how long you walked you never seemed to be gaining any ground. His eyes locked on yours. Never leaving you. Wanting...

Mentally slapping yourself you served the next customer their order. Then you heard someone behind you. 

“Psst!!” 

Turning around you see Jensen hiding just out of sight of the customers in the building, and you would be a liar if you didn’t say that your heart nearly stopped beating for a moment, even if you refused to acknowledge it. 

He motioned for you, then disappeared, expecting you to follow him, which you did on shaky legs.

There were other people serving, so they had it more than covered, and Gino knew you were going to be working with him some today. So you should be fine. Hell, he was the owner after all, and if he wanted you to come and talk to him you better do it.

Jensen nodded his head towards the warehouse where they kept the big brewing machines that gino had shown you yesterday and shut the door behind the two of you once you walked in. 

“Okay,” he said, clapping his hands together and looking around, the two of you were the only people there and you wondered if that was normal. You were under the impression that he was just going to serve customers with you, not this… Whatever it was...

“All these beer cans need to be packaged up and made ready to store in the cooler,” he instructed, pointing at the tables full of beer cans that looked to be freshly staked on the table. You nodded but said nothing because once again standing there next to him, just the two of you, your voice failed you again.

For some reason when you get around him, you feel like some stupid little high school girl that has a ridiculous crush on the quarterback. You have no idea why he affects you so, he’s a married man for crying out loud! He has three kids! He shouldn’t even be on your radar, and yet, here you were, struggling to communicate and not look like an idiot.

Your hands were trembling as you made your way to the table and started boxing up the six-packs of different beers and placing them in crates labeled to be stored, or for sale.

Jensen watched you work quietly at first before he started working on his own pile. You didn’t look at him, but you could definitely feel his eyes on you. His every movement, every glance felt amplified in your senses. 

“So,” he finally said when you both were about three boxes deep. “Where are you from?” 

“Uh...I’m not from here.. I’m from Y/H/T,” you tell him, keeping your eyes trained on your work. It was easier to make a coherent answer when you didn’t have to look at him while you talked to him. He was like sharing into the sun.

“Oh cool, what brought you down here then,” he pressed, shoving the boxes over that he’d packed and jumped up to sit on the empty spot that was on your table next to you. You swear your heart skipped more than one beat when you got a side view of those perfect bowed legs swinging off the table next to where you were working while he waited for your answer.

“I guess I just needed to start over,” you answer shortly, adding to the box pile you’d made. 

He hummed next to you in response but didn’t push. You wondered if you had been too distant and you were starting to make him angry with you, but you also were nowhere near ready to discuss your failed engagement with a total stranger, no matter how attractive he was.

“How do you like it so far? Living in Austin, working here?” he asked, his digging getting a little more direct when he saw that his last attempt didn’t work, he must have decided to go at it at a different angle.

“I like it so far. It’s not nearly as bad as I expected it to be. Learning my way around Austin has been the most difficult thing so far, but I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it.”

“You will get used to it, it’s not so bad once you do. I had a fit learning California when I moved out there the first time,” he said jumping off of the table, picking up the first box to start carrying to the cooler. You noticed you were almost down to the final box, that took away your excuse to not make eye contact with him when he talked to you. “Of course I was only 18, and I had never really been away from home. So that made it much worse than it probably really was.” He chucked a little as he came back motioning for you to grab another box and follow him into the cooler.

“I can’t tell you how many times I packed up everything I had and was going to go home, but I never did it,” he said over his shoulder as you followed him into the color.

Turning around after placing the box on top of one of the top shelves, he reached to grab the box out of your hand, and his finger brushed against yours. 

With just the simple brush of his fingers, your heart was racing in your chest, and goosebumps rose across your skin as what felt like electricity shot through your body.

If he felt it too, he didn’t say anything.

You both loaded the rest of the boxes into the cooler quietly, it took a little bit, and you wondered why he suddenly stopped his little question game. 

When the last box was put on the cooler he shut and latched it before making his way back over to the white tables the two of you had been working on, and jumped up, taking a seat before patting the spot next to him and giving you a soft smile that was meant to be reassuring, but honestly, it just sent a swarm of butterflies to attack your stomach that was sdoing flips of it’s on. 

You made your way over to where he was slowly and jumped up on the table next to him a little further away than where he’d patted, but you knew that keeping your distance from this man was for the best. It was almost like some self-preservation warning, telling you not to get too close. 

That or you had developed a fear of men after being hurt so badly, and you never noticed it until now… You’d make sure to mull over that one later tonight when you finally got home and were at least a wine bottle deep. 

His eyes watched your every movement, waiting until you were settled on the table before finally speaking again.

“You know,” he said, eyes searching yours, his tongue coming out and running across his lower lip as he seemed to be trying to choose his words wisely. “I’ve met and dealt with a LOT of people in my line of work. People of every flavor, culture, religious beliefs, just about whatever you can name I’ve come across it. I like to think that I’m a pretty good judge of people. I can read people well, I have to in order to act to an extent, but you…” 

His eyes trailed over you in a way that made your breathing come a little harder and your palms sweat against your pants, but he stared at you unashamed as if he noticed no change in you at all.

“You're a mystery to me. You’ve got so much wrapped up in there that you’re trying to keep everyone else from seeing. I like a challenge though.”

Jensen leaned a little closer to you. You could smell his college and the hint of spearmint gum that he’d been chewing. It was intoxicating, and it made your head spin, clouding your judgment, and only keeping your focus on those eyes that you knew would haunt you for the rest of your natural life.

“Jensen! What the hell are the two of you doing?”  Danneel’s voice pierced the warehouse with an echo as the door slammed shut, Jensen straightened up like it was nothing but a thing, and you were still trying to get your heart to slow down before you had a heart attack.

When your eyes met Danneel she did not look thrilled with you at all. Jensen seemed totally unfazed by her disgruntled appearance. 

“We were just taking a little break before we go back to the taproom, and Y/N clocks out for the day. We just finished stocking the coolers. No point in walking all the way back up there to serve what? Five people?” 

Jensen’s eyes were a little harder as his wife stared at him, and you were more than ready to get away from the two of them so they could hash out whatever her obvious problem was without you being around. 

“It’s okay Jensen, I could use the walk,” you tell them, jumping off of the table as both their eyes snapped up to you. “I’ll head back that way now.” Jensen gave his wife a very irritated look as you made your way towards the door, leaving him sitting on the table. 

“You sure you don’t want me to walk you back up? It’s dark out there?” he asked, but one look at Danneel’s face said that you would have a better chance facing whatever was out there than her raff if you asked him to walk with you.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” you tell him, quickly making your escape, and leaving Jensen behind with his highly annoyed wife as you made your way to the taproom in the dark.

Danneel though wasn’t going to let you get away that easy, the doors burst open and she reached out and grabbed your arm as took a step away from the warehouse, stopping you in your tracks. You were ready to define yourself, job be damned if she was stupid enough to swing at you as you rounded on her, facing her fully.

“Danneel,” Jensen warned as he came to a stop behind her, and she let go of your arm, looking at you with what you could have sworn was disgust. 

“I was just going to ask her to bring a crate of glasses with her when she went,” Danneel said, an unreadable look on her face as she looked to her husband. 

Reaching over you grabbed a small crate of glasses and made your way out into the dark putting as much distance between the couple and yourself as possible. 

Your heart rate was still hammering in your chest as you climbed into your car, and started to head home that night. Not from Danneel, but from the man that seemed to be haunting your very soul, and you didn’t understand why.

Tag List: @deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming​

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[dlwritings]

Inexplicably in Love | Steve Harrington

masterlist found here

pairing - Steve Harrington x plus-size!reader word count - 3,318 warnings - insecure reader is insecure A/N - takes place in between seasons 2 and 3 - idk I’m crying but it’s whatever

This one’s for the anon who requested it and for all my plus size gals who don’t look like Ashley Graham. (No shade to Ashley. She rocks. I just don’t always feel like she represents my kind of plus size.) Some of us don’t have sexy curves. Some of us are just mushy. But you know what? We’re cute! And someday we’re going to have non-fictional Steve Harringtons who love us and our beautiful squishy bodies. And someday we’re going to love our own squishy bodies without the validation from someone else. I already love ya’ll. Also to my squishy guys and non-binary pals! I see you. You’re all gorgeous, and I love you too.

summary - You’re having an off day riddled with insecurities about yourself. Lucky for you, Steve is the sweetest boyfriend on the planet and knows just what to say and do to make you feel a little bit better.

It was Friday night, and you had plans with your boyfriend, Steve.

Boyfriend. Even after almost seven months, the word still felt weird coming out of your mouth attached to Steve Harrington’s name.

Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for about a month, and he wasn’t crazy about it. He felt indifferent about his only coworker, Robin, and some of the customers who came in on the daily drove him up the wall (*cough cough* Erica *cough cough*). The one plus side was that every other Friday, he got to close, and on those Fridays, there was usually a new shipment of ice cream. So on Thursday, he would make sure you were mentally prepared to come to the back entrance of the parlor the next night when the rest of the mall was closed so you could try the new flavors together. It had happened only three times so far that summer, but it was easily Steve’s favorite part of the job.

And usually, you were excited for it too. You and Steve would try all the flavors and usually make out in the back until your butt got sore from sitting on the counter. And then you’d go make out in his car until your curfew. It was a fun routine.

It was just that, today, you weren’t feeling so hot. No, you weren’t sick, and you didn’t have a headache or anything. You were just having one of those days. One of those days where every outfit you put on was wrong, and your tummy looked too pudgy from every angle, no matter how hard you tried to hold it in. You spent the entire day in bed, only getting up to shower in the morning, grateful you didn’t have a job you needed to go to. Your parents were at work all day, and your mom only came in your room when she got home to say hi and ask if you had eaten dinner already. You lied and said you had.

On these days, when your insecurities ate away at you, you needed to lay in bed and sulk. It was like purging for you. You just had to get rid of all the bad feelings so you could feel refreshed and put on your happy face again.

The truth was, you were never confident or outgoing or extroverted or popular. You honestly had no idea why Steve was attracted to you in the first place. You looked nothing like any girls he had been with in the past. And you weren’t really friends in high school. He wasn’t mean to you or anything. You actually sat by each other in most of the classes that you had together and often got in trouble for whispering, passing notes, or snickering during a lecture. Still, that didn’t mean you were friends. At least not in your mind.

You were Dustin’s neighbor and would sometimes get roped into babysitting him. This happened the day he trapped “Dart” in his cellar, and it changed your relationship with Steve. And, you supposed, with everyone else involved. Just, obviously, not in the same way.

From that night on, you and Steve were inseparable. It didn’t take long for the two of you to become official. And you were happy. Genuinely, really happy. You just still didn’t get it. And it wasn’t easy to be in a relationship you didn’t understand. You were constantly questioning it. Always wondering if Steve had some twisted ulterior motive. And you could never go out with him in public without noticing all the people staring. You knew what they were wondering. It was what you were so often wondering.

What is he doing with her?

Today, you had to shake all those thoughts away and go be with Steve. It was 9:30, and he was expecting you around 10:00, so you dragged yourself out of bed and put on some clean clothes. (You has been wearing your pajamas all day, putting on a clean pair after you showered.) Your parents liked Steve, but you knew they wouldn’t be too thrilled if they knew you were leaving the house late at night to meet up with him. So, like usual, you opened your window and climbed out, glad that your room was on the first floor as your feet touched the grass. Your parents slept like a rock and turned in already at 9:00, so you started your car without fear of waking them up and made your way to Starcourt.

You tried giving yourself a pep talk throughout the whole drive. Today was just like any other day. You didn’t look any different than you did yesterday, and you felt fine yesterday. This was fine. Your jeans buttoned up, and your t-shirt fit over your stomach. What more could you ask for?

A tummy that wasn’t so round. Boobs that didn’t seem too small because your weight rested in your stomach. An ass that wasn’t flat above your thick thighs. You knew curvy girls could be beautiful too, but you weren’t like those curvy girls. You didn’t have a round ass and big boobs. You were just meh. Just kind of there. 

You pulled into the mall’s parking lot feeling no better about yourself than you had when you left your house. You pulled down your car visor and opened the mirror, practicing your bright smile for Steve. You added some lipstick for good measure. If you could flash your pearly whites behind some killer red lips, Steve would be clueless to how sad you actually were. You loved Steve, but he could be so oblivious sometimes.

Steve was waiting for you outside the usual back door with his silly sailor costume on, sans the hat as usual. He greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and let you inside the mall. “We got three new flavors,” he said as you made your way through the back hallways. “Strawberry cheesecake, caramel chocolate chip cookie dough, and brownie fudge swirl.”

“Sounds good,” you said. “Did you try any yet?”

“What? No!” Steve laughed. “I waited for you. It’s tradition.”

“It’s also tradition for you to steal a scoop and pretend like I don’t notice,” you teased. Steve shrugged but didn’t attempt to fight the smile on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweets,” he said. “I would never set sail on my ocean of flavor without you.”

When the two of you got into the kitchen, you jumped up on the counter next to the freezer. Steve smiled and walked over to you, passing the freezer and focusing only on you. “What’s on your mind, sailor?” you teased, putting your arms over his shoulders so you could twist your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. Steve didn’t usually let people touch his hair, but he had a soft spot for you, so he let you do it.

And who was he kidding? He was like a puppy. He absolutely adored it.

“You look gorgeous tonight,” he said, putting his hands on your waist.

“Steve,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “I look gross. I’ve been in bed all day.”

“You have?” he said, sounding genuinely confused. And that was fair. You didn’t usually spend an entire day in bed. Usually you sat outside on your front porch with a book or went out to the store just to get out of the house. “Are you feeling okay?”

“‘M fine,” you said, moving your hands from Steve’s hair. You needed a subject change. “Alright, let’s try this ice cream!”

Steve obliged, grabbing his ice cream scoop and then reaching into a cabinet for some plastic spoons and paper cups. You were grateful he didn’t seem to notice your odd behavior.

But he did. Steve wasn’t as clueless as people thought, especially not when it came to you. He could tell something was wrong, and he had a hunch he knew what it was. When you were wearing your bright red lipstick (the one you only kept in your car), 99 out of 100 times, you were having one of your off days. Steve thought you were beautiful, but he knew you didn’t think the same. Some days it was easy to convince you to see your beauty. Other days it was harder.

Steve opened the freezer and dished out two scoops of each flavor into three bowls with one flavor in each bowl. He handed you a spoon and kept one for himself. “First up,” he said dramatically, “strawberry cheesecake.” You both took a spoonful, clinked your spoons together to cheers, and took your first bites of ice cream.

The routine continued for all three flavors until you decided on a favorite: the caramel chocolate chip cookie dough. You were both all smiles as you continued to eat your ice cream, sometimes feeding each other spoonfuls because you were just that adorable.

Steve started to throw everything away and clean up the rest of the back room, and you stared at your feet. “Hey Steve?” you said, looking up at him.

“Yeah?” he said, flashing you a sweet smile.

“Is there anything you don’t like about yourself?” you asked. “Like, about how you look.” Steve let out a low whistle and leaned his back against the table across from you.

“That’s a loaded question,” he said. “Why do you ask?” You just shrugged and stared down at your lap. “Well, I mean, of course I do.”

“You do?” you asked, looking up at him.

“Everyone does,” he said.

“But, like what?” you said in genuine disbelief. “You’re-” You cut yourself off and motioned to him. Steve laughed and ran his hand through his hair.

“Sometimes I don’t think I’m muscular enough,” he said. “I’m kinda scrawny. And I can’t grow facial hair very well. And I have a square head.”

“A square head?” you repeated, unable to hold back your giggle. “What are you talking about? You don’t have a square head.”

“Yes I do,” he said. He turned his head to different angles, trying to prove the fact to you. You just rolled your eyes and put your hands behind you, leaning back on your arms.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said.

“Why’re we even talking about this?” he asked, stepping closer to you. He opened your legs so he could stand between them.

“I don’t like my tummy,” you said. It was matter-of-fact. There was no reason to skirt around the edge with Steve. “It’s too pudgy. And my boobs and my ass suck because my weight just carries weird. I’m like-” You thought. “I’m like the Michelin Man. The Michelin Woman.”

Steve scoffed, “Who’s ridiculous now?”

“I’m not being ridiculous!” you said. “You know it’s true. Everyone knows it’s true. I’m a walking, talking marshmallow. You should just paint me white and make me sell tires.”

“Stop,” Steve said, furrowing his eyebrows. He put his hands on your waist, and you visibly cringed. You knew he was feeling your squishy sides. “(Y/N),” he said, putting his fingers under your chin and making you look up at him. You had been worrying your teeth into your lower lip to stop it from quivering. “You’re so beautiful,” he said. His voice was soft, but firm. “I love your body. Every part of it.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I’m whining,” you said, wiping a stray tear that had fallen down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to invite you to my pity party.”

“I’m not just saying that,” he said. “I could spend hours just holding you and touching you and kissing you.” You blushed and looked away from him again. He made you look at him. “I’m serious, (Y/N). I never get sick of your body.”

“You haven’t even seen all of my body,” you muttered. “I’m sure you’d find parts you didn’t like.”

“Have I ever given you the impression that I wouldn’t like what I saw?” he asked.

“You don’t know what I look like under all of this,” you said, motioning to your clothes. You had this aching feeling of shame in you, and nothing you were saying was making it go away.

“Jesus, I wish we weren’t having this conversation in Scoops fucking Ahoy,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “I know that when I take off your clothes, there won’t be a supermodel underneath, but that’s not the point. 90 pounds, 100, 200, I don’t care. I love you because I think you’re beautiful, inside and out. And when I see you naked for the first time, it’s not going to change my mind.”

There were two things to note from Steve’s short speech.

The first was that he spoke in phrases of certainty. When I take your clothes off. When I see you naked. Not if. When. He wanted to, but more than that, he planned to.

The second was that he said I love you.

In seven months of dating, neither of you had ever uttered those words. Steve had a sketchy past with love, so he no longer tossed the word around lightly. You had never been in love before, and the idea of it scared you.

Yet there you both were: a sailor boy and his shy sweetheart. Inexplicably in love.

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt a tear slide down your nose. You wiped it away and sniffed. “You love me?” you said. Steve smiled and wiped some more tears from your cheeks.

“So much,” he said.

You didn’t ask him why, and you didn’t ask him if he was sure. That’s what people would expect you to do. Insecure girl needs proof that someone loves her. That was one stereotype you wouldn’t fulfill. Instead, you laced your fingers in his hair again and whispered, “Say it again.” Steve was happy to oblige.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he said, “I love you.” You let out something that sounded just as much like a laugh as it did a sob and kissed your boyfriend. He smiled and kissed you back, welcoming your body into his open arms.

“I love you too,” you muttered, pulling away only slightly and only for a millisecond. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

“Mm, good to know,” Steve joked. “And I just want you to know-” He pulled back a bit and pressed his forehead against yours. “-if we weren’t in this god forsaken ice cream parlor, I would be stripping you of every piece of your clothing so I could properly worship every-” He stopped and kissed down your jaw. “-part-” His lips settled at your neck, sucking at a spot that made you grab a fistful or his hair. “-of your-” He bit softly on the spot, certainly leaving a mark you’d have trouble covering in the morning. “-body.”

“We-” You breathed in sharply as Steve kissed the base of your throat and to the other side of your neck. “We don’t really have to be in this god forsaken parlor anymore though, do we?” Steve grinned against your skin and shook his head no.

“Hmm,” he hummed, nipping at the new spot he made. “I guess we don't.”

You and Steve each got in your respective cars and drove to Steve’s house. His parents, as usual, weren’t home, so the two of you headed up to his bedroom, unafraid of getting caught. Your lips were pressed to each other’s as you fumbled to Steve’s room, bumping into walls as you turned corners. When you got into his room, you both made your way over to the bed.

You wanted to say you were excited and eager, but mostly you were nervous and hesitant. Maybe you weren’t ready for this. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Steve, and it wasn’t that you didn’t love Steve. It wasn’t even your insecurities eating at you again. It was just … you weren’t sure. You just didn’t feel ready.

Still, you owed it to Steve, you knew. For the past seven months, you had been holding out on him for various reasons and now, you invited yourself over to his house and wanted to bail on the intimate activity Steve was expecting? That wasn’t fair. You could make yourself ready.

You truly underestimated how good Steve was at reading you. Your kisses slowed, and the hand that was inching its way under your shirt stopped its movements. Steve pulled back and looked at you, an understanding smile on his face. “You’re not ready,” he said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He was almost completely hovering over you, literally about to take off his clothes, and you weren’t ready? What the hell was wrong with you?

“No, I am,” you said, trying to get yourself to believe it too. “I am.”

“Hey,” Steve said, lifting his hand to stroke your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.” You covered your face with your hands in shame.

“I feel like I lead you on,” you whined. “All that stuff you said at Scoops, and-”

“Everything I said at Scoops will still be true tomorrow,” he said, pulling your hands away from your face, “and the next day, and next week, and next month. No matter how long it takes you, I’ll always mean what I said. I didn’t just say it to get in your pants tonight.” You couldn’t help but giggle, and Steve laid beside you, pulling you close to his chest.

“Why are you the nicest person in Hawkins?” you whispered, tracing the patterns of his Scoops uniform.

“Just in Hawkins?” he teased back. “Not the world? Not even Indiana?” You rolled your eyes with a smile and wrapped your arm around his waist. “Still, I feel like I shouldn’t be praised this much just for being a decent guy.”

“You’d be surprised how rare decent guys are,” you said back. Steve chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Wanna spend the night?” he asked. “I-” He stopped to clear his throat and scratch the back of his neck. “I bought you some pajamas. They’re in one of my drawers.” You looked up at him.

“You did?” you asked. You couldn’t fit into Steve’s clothes, so whenever you spent the night there, you had to bring your own pajamas along with your change of clothes for the next day. Steve nodded and stood up from the bed, still rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly -a tick he had when he was nervous. He opened his top dresser drawer and pulled out a jersey style nightgown -much like the one you usually brought to his house- and a pair of short black shorts. He handed them to you with an almost embarrassed look in his eyes.

“I hope that’s not weird,” he said. “I guess I, I just figured it’d be easier in case, you know, in case something like this ever happened where you didn’t plan on staying, but you did, and then-” Steve had been so busy rambling that he hadn’t even realized you stood up from the bed and walked over to him. You startled him by placing a kiss to his lips. He relaxed instantly and kissed you back, resting his hands on the small of your back.

“I love you,” you whispered when you pulled away. Steve smiled and brushed his nose against yours.

“I love you too.”

In a relationship, you didn’t need someone to tell you you weren’t fat, because you were, and that was okay. What you needed was someone who took your needs into consideration and made you feel safe, comfortable, and loved, no matter your own insecurities. There was no one who could do that for you quite like Steve Harrington.

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TAGLIST

@bangtan-serendipity | @planetdemon | @the-singing-clown406 | @tomshufflepuff | @bluelalal | @grandloser | @jackiehollanderr | @mindset-jupiter | @bisexual-sk8r | @feel-like-gold | @runaway-apple | @miraclesoflove​ |  @toniinhere ​

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 29 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 29 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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“Kurin and I were playmates when we were young,” Silor began earnestly. “We didn’t know what Cat was back then.  She was just someone who was always there.  Cat knew lots of good stories about the First Ships.  That’s where it started.  Kurin started asking for more stories and Cat started teaching her apart from the rest of us.

“One night, Kurin’s father died.  He was only twenty nine or thirty. Kurin found him.  Within a short time, her mother went raving mad, then ceased to move or do anything.  She’s still like that. Afterwards, Kurin and Cat, the Dragon, became inseparable.  I think that her parents were a test of Kurin by the Dragon but I’ll never know for sure.

“A little after that, Kurin beat me out of the boat-shop apprenticeship under Master Juris.  I was two Gatherings older and considered likely for the job.  Then, without any explanation, no other Craft on the Longin would have me either.  Her influence was spreading.

“To be fair, I never heard of Cat doing anything evil.  She wasn’t human, so she may not have realized what kind of person she was teaching.

“I became a deck-hand.  I was a good one.  In only one and a half Gatherings I was made lead deck-hand, the youngest ever on the Longin.  Ask anyone, I was well-thought-of, maybe officer material in a few more Gatherings.

“I admit that I fell asleep on watch.  It was only a nap, and I was on duty in the hold.  How much trouble was that?  I’ll tell you.  They stripped me of my lead deck-hand job!  Only three of her lousy crabs died, and they broke me for it!

“Later, I was in a class,” Silor paused, torn between ingrained loyalty and his tale.  “I can’t tell you what the class was about.  That’s Ship’s Business.  The important thing is this.  She was in the class, too.  Captain Mord told me that I was doing well and then threw me out of the class.”

Huh, she thought, hearing this out, If he believes what he’s saying there’s enough emptiness in his head to make a good float out of it.  I’ve heard some of these tales from other sources.  It’s obvious that he’s left out more than he’s told.  “Ye make a start on yer case but i’ t’is come up in t’e Arrakan fleet, ye’d lose.  Oi need more proof.  Especially about t’e fleet bein’ under ‘er control.  Ye’ve nae even addressed t’at.”

“Tanlin, love, I can attest to at least some of what he says.  He first brought the matter to my attention five Gatherings ago, as a lad of nine.  Since then I have watched the surreptitious machinations of Kurin.  She does far more than make toys!”

“Oi fail t’ see ‘t, Barad, m’ luve.  T’e fleet dinnae revolve about ‘er.  She commands nane, nae is she any but kind.”

Silor started to rise up in protest but Barad waved him down.  “That is true.  She is far too clever to put herself in so exposed a position. Why should she take risks when others will do so for her without even knowing that they serve her?  She has real power — — and no need for the trappings of power.”

He appeared to be hit by inspiration.  “Stand up, Silor!”

Mystified, Silor did so.

“There you are, Tanlin, the proof stands before you.”

“Oi’m now confused.  Enlighten m’.”

“Why was he exiled?”

“‘E slept on wotch, w’ich ‘e admits, an’ gave away Ship’s Business.”

“What business did he give away?  I’ll tell you.  He told amusing stories about their crabbing venture, which I grant is a main business for them.  The deadly revelation?  That they had special nets for crabs and knew where to find them.  Both are obvious to anyone who thinks for ten seconds.”

“Oi’m beginnin’ t’ see.  T’is wa’ a mere pretext.”

“Exactly. Once he was ejected from the Longin, his credentials should have gotten him an immediate berth on almost any ship in the fleet.  It didn’t happen.

“I was at the Captains’ Council.  Everyone agreed, even the Longin, that he had done nothing to die for but no ship would save him.  And they agreed that he was worth saving.  Thus, exile.  She rid herself of a nuisance, and no blood shed, nor clue that it was even her doing — — unless one looks at the whole unlikely chain of events.”

“Wy’d ye nae just take ‘im up t’en, like so many ot’ers ye’ve ‘elped?”

“Yes,” said Silor.  “Why did you let me be sent away?”

“Safety,” said Barad solemnly.  “Yours and mine.  You opposed her openly and she determined to have you removed.  That is why the others would not help you.  

“What would have happened to your only refuge if I had opposed her will by taking you openly?  I play the part of buffoon, many laugh at this ship and myself.  Let them.  It keeps her from taking us seriously. That is the only safety that there is.”

“Now Oi see ‘t.  Wye wa’ ‘t so ‘ard t’ see?”  You do play well to his madness, Barad.  I would not have tried to turn this one to a tool.  I must learn what you plan to do.  This one is dangerous.

Solemnly Barad said, “This is why only she, of all who claim to be Dragon-witches, is dangerous.  She never owns-up to her power.  She never claims it.  She just uses it, hidden from all.”

There was a discrete rap at the door.  They all quieted at once.  Barad went and opened it a narrow slit.  A whispered conversation followed.

“That was the watch officer.  We need to go up on deck.”

As they were going up the companion-ladder to the deck, Barad asked casually, “Have you ever seen your boat before?”

“Yes,” said Silor tightly.  “In the Longin’s boat-shop.”

“Master Juris must have been pleased with it.”

“He was but he didn’t build it …”  A look of fear washed across Silor’s face as the realization hit.  “Kurin did.  It was her journeyman’s submission piece.”  He ran to the rail.  “Where is it?  Where’s the boat?”

“I’m Officer of the Watch, Theld Elon, Sir.  Boat’s at the end of its line.”  The line went down into the water, drawn tight and pulled back at an angle by the Grandalor’s speed.  “Went down sudden a few minutes ago.”

Tanlin looked calmly over the side.  “‘T appears t’at we almost missed pickin’ ye up.  Oi wonder ‘ow t’is ‘appened?” How did you do this, you old dragon?  What a touch!  I would never have thought of this!

“Mister Theld, heave to,” ordered Captain Barad with quiet authority.  “Get a diver on deck now!  We need to secure that boat for lifting.  With the water in her she’ll be heavy when she breaches the surface.”

Theld set to issuing orders, and the tocsin began its tattoo of command, bringing the watch to deck.  A diver, roused from her bunk, came up still yawning and stretching.  A pair of ungainly looking flat things were hung over her shoulder.

“What’s the problem, Captain?”

“We need to retrieve the boat that’s on the end of this line.”

Without any question as to why or if it were urgent, the diver got straight to business.

“What kind of boat is it and how big?”

“Day-sailer. About twenty five feet long, loaded for a month’s voyage.” Captain Barad looked for confirmation to Silor, who nodded.

“How long is this line?”  She had stripped, leaving only a pair of tight fitting shorts.  Sitting on the deck, she began strapping the flat things onto her feet.  She tied her hair into a tight bun.

“About forty feet.”

“OK, I’ll need two fifty foot, number three cables.  Attach the first one to the cargo block of the heavy crane.  Get the portable crane over here and secure it to the mizzen mast.  Put the other cable onto its cargo block.”

There was a lull for Captain Barad, Tanlin and Silor, as the watch crew prepared things to the diver’s satisfaction.

“What are those things on her feet?” Silor asked.

“Arrakan diver’s flips,” Tanlin answered.  “Our divers ‘ave used t’em for Gat’erings past remembering.”

“I thought that you lost your memory,” said Silor curiously.  “Did it come back?”  At her look of distress and Barad’s of rage, he feared that he had made a serious mistake.

“Nae, Luve.  Donnae ‘old ‘t against ‘im.”  She was biting back tears.  The more I do this the easier it is to forget that it’s an act.  “Ye cannae protect m’ from t’e world forever, an’ Oi must learn t’ cope wit’ ‘t.” She turned to Silor.  “Tis like t’is.  Oi lost only ane t’ing from m’ memory.  People. M’sel’ an’ eveyane t’at Oi’ve ever known, until Oi awoke t’ t’e Orca song.

“Oi can draw ye t’e plan an’ lines o’ ever’ ship Oi‘ve lived on.  Oi know all t’at Oi used t’ know.  Oi ‘ave t’e ’ule Arrakan fleet, ‘ts laws, customs, navigation, ever’t’in’s ‘ere,” she tapped her temple.  “But t’ere’s nae ane person t’ere!  Nae even m’sel’!  Tis worse t’an ghosts.  Tis utterly empty an’ never stops ‘urting, unless Oi can focus on somet’in’ new.

“Barad’s precious t’ m’ because ‘e keeps m’ safe at night.  ‘E ‘olds m’ an’ keeps t’e emptiness inside from swallowin’ m’.” Strange, but that’s nearly true.  Even if what we did was wrong, what’s done is done.  We were married before the whole Naral fleet by Arrakan law and, as it was accepted, it’s now legal by the Third Great Law.  I’m being treated like a partner and friend as a wife should be.

“I’m sorry,” said Silor sincerely.  “I have some idea of what you must feel.  I’ve lost my ship, too.  Also, my fleet, all that made home for me.  They’re gone but I remember everything and everyone.  It hurts.”

“Oi donnae t’ink Oi’d like t’ trade places wit’ ye, Silor.”  My act is sailing closer and closer to reality.  Your madness is driving you ever further onto dry land.

TO BE CONTINUED

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[mimymomo]

Homeless Eurydice HC’s

I made a post a while ago about homeless Eurydice AU and an anon asked me to expand the AU further so here it is after a long wait. Thank you for being patient anon!!! There’s a lot of them so I’ll be putting most under the read-more link.

Pre-Orpheus:

Home was not a word Eurydice was familiar with. Sure, she had heard it constantly flung around in public and on TV shows and songs, and questioned by others at school and work, but the idea of ‘home’ and herself never seemed to mix. 

From a young age, she found herself bouncing and forth from one misfit foster home to the next, staying at no place for longer than a year.

Even her original residence left many things to be desired: an absentee father, an alcoholic, rarely-present mother with her numerous cruel and creepy boyfriends. It was less a home and more a temporary place until CPS picked her up at age 9. By age 17, she’d had enough: no more homes. She knew she wasn’t going to be adopted, no one wanted a problem child with issues up the wazoo.

So she ran.

For the first few months, Eurydice lived in a tent- it was spring/summer so for the most part, besides the occasional rainstorm, she was fine. She was in school during half of these months so she could shower/eat there and had a place to store some of her belongs. When summer broke out, she took to bathing in ‘less than desirable’ places when the school wasn’t open (public bathrooms with a washcloth and sometimes even outsides in lakes/a kitty pool she bought to wash clothes to save money). But fall rolls around, this has to change.

She devises a plan to spend the spring/summer months in her tent and the fall/winter months in shelters or friend's houses.

Eurydice gets a job at a fast-food joint (NIGHTSHIFTS ARE A GODSEND!) and becomes a master at saving/dividing money. She likes working at restaurants do to food accessibility. 

She will sometimes purposely mess up orders so she can eat the returned mistakes. Most managers don’ t catch on but one did and nearly fired her. Some co-workers notice how small and constantly hungry Eurydice always is and often try to sneak/buy her food on her break (Eurydice is more stubborn than a mule so usually outwardly refuses but will eat it secretly).

She buys a membership to a really cheap and crappy gym in order to use their showers (she had some BAD experiences while trying to use said showers but the ability to bathe wins out not using them anymore). 

Over the next few years, she PERFECTS the art of keeping good hygiene and smelling good on a budget: a spritz of cheap body spray before drying her skin/clothes completely and travel-sized/dollar store toiletries will go miles!

Eurydice is a master pickpocketer. She won’t do it often because she’s prideful and hates not paying but sometimes when money is real-tight, she the bite the bullet Her most shoplifted items are tampons/pads, washcloths/hand towels, sanitary items, socks, and granola bars. She’ll usually buy one or two items to distract workers from the small stuff she stuffs into her bag.

Eurydice has had to do some other pretty questionable acts that she’s not proud of to get money/shelter but only as an absolute necessity.

Eurydice keeps a tally of ‘How Many Coffeeshops Kick Me Out Because I Make Other Customers Uncomfortable/Other Random Reasons.” She’s at 7 so far. She’s become quite the loiterer (her favorite places are college campuses and libraries). 

Meeting Orpheus:

She never meant to go home with him, never meant to even meet the boy with wide, shiny hazel eyes that stared into her soul. It had been a completely random occurrence. 

She had only wanted a drink: it was the middle of spring but it still felt like freezing cold winter. She needed something to perk her up. 

He was working the bar, wiping down the counter and serving up drinks with a smile that passed the obligatory customer service smile she often wore at her own job. He looked so young, a beacon of natural light in the dark, dinginess of bar. She doesn’t pay him any mind past ordering her drink (the boy stutters as she does so, face flushed pink and he stares at her for far too long. He can’t form a full sentence and instead just nods at her order). An older gentleman with dark skin wearing a fancy silver suit begins conversing with her, asking what brings her in. She doesn’t know what it is, but before she realizes it, she’s immediately spilling her predicament. Nothing too major, she’s not that stupid, but she does admit she has nowhere else to go. 

“I’m a homeless runaway who’s in desperate need of a drink. Problem with that?”

She moves from the bar counter to an old table that runs along the sides of the bar wall. She’s lost in her thoughts when it happens:

“Come home with me!” 

That’s what he says to her, that beautiful, idiotic bartender with the pretty eyes. Not “hello again”, not “here’s your order”, freaking “come home with me...” Hell, he didn’t even remember her drink!

Eurydice meant to laugh him off, tell him to buzz off and continue on with her night drinking away her woes in peace. Yet, she doesn’t. They, to her utter shock, hit it off surprisingly well. He’s sweet, a bit on the naive side, and has the most precious laughing expression Eurydice has ever seen. 

She learns his name is Orpheus, he’s a year younger than her and he works part-time as a bartender here at his guardian's (Orpheus points to the man in the silver suit and he affectionately refers to him as Mister Hermes) bar. He also a musician. 

“You’re a player huh? Hope you’re not planning to break my heart, poet.”“No, of course not! I’m not like that.”He tells her about his dream of his song one day being played all over the world and spreading love to all that hear it.

“So you wanna be famous and make a load of money?”

Orpheus shakes his head, “it’s not about the money Eurydice. It’s about expressing feelings to others. Telling a story and hoping that everyone who hears will understand what you mean.” 

Eurydice is definitely not enamored by the boy and his poetic words

Eurydice forces Orpheus to sing to her before she agrees to go home with him (”I have to make sure you weren’t a liar as well as a player.”). By the time the first note spills from his lips, she sold.

His apartment is small, modest and cramped, half scribbled in notebooks and sheets of crumpled up paper litter the ground. Pictures of Orpheus, Mister Hermes and some other relatives Eurydice doesn’t recognize decorate his walls and shelves. An acoustic guitar sits undisturbed in its stand in the corner of the one-bedroom home. Nothing happens that night, which stuns Eurydice. Men always want something more. They sit and talk, moving from the living area to the queen-sized bed.

Eurydice asks Orpheus why he decided to let her stay and he answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because I didn’t want you to be all alone in the cold.” Eurydice would’ve been pissed had anyone else said this to her, she was an adult damn it. She could take care of herself. However, it didn’t sound patronizing coming from his lips. He just genuinely cared. 

 Eurydice lets Orpheus spoon her from behind, his warm breath tickling the hairs on her neck. She drifts off to sleep to the sounds of Orpheus’ light, harmonious snores, the rest of the outside world for once is silent. It’s the best sleep she’s had in years.

Eurydice thinks that it was a one time deal. That Orpheus, with his head in the clouds and eyes towards the sky, would move on and forget all about her. 

But he doesn’t. 

He invites to come back the next day as she’s heading out the door.

“You can come back tonight! If you want, that is.” 

Eurydice doesn’t say anything at first. She just leaves with a quiet, “we’ll see.”

She finds herself back at the bar and in Orpheus’ bed again that night.

She finds herself returning to the quaint apartment again and again. She makes excuses (the shelter ran out of rooms, my tent has a hole in it, etc.), she’s sure Orpheus doesn’t buy them after a while but he never questions her which she greatly appreciates.

Soon, she starts leaving things in his house. Small things- a bag, some clothes, a toothbrush. Small things turn into big things then all of her things.

Their relationship quickly morphs from friendship to romantic in the following weeks. Were they moving fast? Yes, definitely. Too fast? Maybe, but for them, it wasn’t fast enough. 

Eurydice doesn’t know when she started thinking of Orpheus’ apartment as her home but she clearly remembers the first time she said it out loud: she’s outside the bar, kissing Orpheus goodbye as he’s heading into work.

“See you at home lover boy.” She pauses, home? Is that what it is?

Orpheus, not noticing her hesitation, kisses her once more, “I’ll see you at home. Love you.”

‘Home, huh?’ For the first time, the word didn’t sound funny rolling off her tongue. It didn’t send acidic shocks down to her stomach, quite the opposite really, she felt butterflies fluttering about in its place. Home. She finally had a home. ‘Maybe wasn’t such a bad thing after all?’ She smiled as she continued her way back to her and Orpheus’ apartment, already ready to see her boyfriend back at home.

I’m so sorry that this is so late anon! But it’s super long so I hope that makes up for it slightly!

[ganda4ever]

The Story He Wanted

She is now living on her own and she doesn’t need a man to get what she wants. As helpful as her dad, brothers, and friends would be; Analía Reneé Delgado de La Cruz was determined to build her door sign herself. After being recently hired as parental educator and case manager for teenage parents, Anie wanted to create a way for her families to know if it was okay to drop in and visit her; while they were in the building for other courses with a cute door sign she made herself. “You are strong. You are powerful. You are capable of making the impossible; your possibilities,” Anie repeats to herself as she sits in her Toyota Corolla in the late August heat of Los Angeles. These 3 simple, but most meaningful, sentences are what her grand-dad and abuelo have for her for the last 21 years of her life. 

As soon as she walks into Home Depot, Anie could feel her anxiety wash over her by all of the overwhelming sounds and insights in front of her. For years, her behavior therapist have always encouraged her to go out into the world and overcome her sensory issues; but today should not have been the day she thought she could handle it. Anie swallows forcefully and marches over to the wood section to ask an employee what types of materials she should buy. 

“It’s okay. Thanks for trying to help. Have a good day” Anie sights to herself as she repeats the same generic sentences to the 9th employee that said, “uhh...sorry I don’t really know. You could try asking so and so” as they point lazily toward another general white guy with an orange apron on. She puts her hand on her temples to soothe the anxiety and headache coming on. “You are strong. You are powerful. You are capable of making the impossible; your possibilities'' Anie repeats once again to herself. She looks around to see if she can find another employee, but this guy with short, slightly frizzy hair starts walking up to her. 

Anie tries to walk away as fast as possible but the young hottie catches her and says, “Hey, do you need help?” as his brown eyes catch the dim lighting in aisle 9 of this Home Depot. 

“Yea, I could use some help. Do you work here?” Anie says with the breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. 

“Haha!!” he booms out of his mouth a little louder than the average person. “No, I don’t; but they really should look into hiring me. May quit my day job for it” he says a little quieter and flashes you a full grin showcasing his pearly white teeth. 

Anie smiles at this kind and good looking stranger and says, “You know what they say, ‘don’t quit your day job,’” she says trying to be funny, and failing miserably at. “Well if you aren’t busy, I really could use some help. I have no clue what I’m doing,” she says, feeling as desperate as they came. “I’m Analía by the way” as she extends her hand to shake his. 

“Grayson, but you can call me Gray,” he says as he meets her hand. 

She shows him the picture and explains her vision, so they are able to work together. For 3 hours, they go up and down every aisle in the store picking out woods and screws. Every once in a while Anie catches herself staring at Grayson, no Gray, a little longer than she probably should. When she isn’t staring at him or trying to pick the right screw and hinge color, Anie is answering one of the many questions Gray has asked her. She tells him about her new job, starting graduate school in a week, and little details about herself. Normally, Anie would never respond in that fashion; especially after what happened with her ex. Anie always told herself, “no one cares. just smile, nod, and look pretty. that’s what you do.” But Gray has made her feel welcomed and safe. Every question he asks makes what she says the most important thing in the world. She tells herself , “he is just being nice. Maybe looking for a quick hook-up in the parking lot.”

 By the time Anie is able to convince herself Gray may just be a nice guy, they find themselves in the paint aisle. “Okay, if you go with this brand in any color; it shouldn’t fade or chip for a long time. That way you won’t need to come to this scary place for some time” Grayson says as he points to the BEHR selection on the swatch display. 

“Okay, perfect. Thank you so much for all of your help. Is there any way I could prepaid you? Seriously, I was ready to completely give up.” 

Grayson shakes his head no and says, “Nothing, really. Just knowing you got everything you need and that’s right; is all the payment I need. Also if you need a power drill you can rent one at customer services. It’s pretty cheap and probably a better option for a one time project.” 

“That’s great! Thanks again for all of your help.” Anie smiles at Gray, hoping it will show him she is interested in him; as he flashes a little grin to her. To not make it awkward Anie says, “well, I’m sure you came here for a reason and I think I could be here for hours; so thanks again. Have a nice day.” 

“Oh, yea. Yea. Of course, no problem. Have a good day and good luck with work and school,” he says with a little wave and a wink. And with that Anie watched him walk away. She frowns with the disappointment that she couldn’t get the courage to ask this beautiful man out. 

The Gods or her brain must have known Analie has been in this overwhelming situation for far too long and needs to get home; because she picked the 2 paint colors she needed in record time for someone that took 5 days just to pick a mattress. She grabs her paint for the employee after they mixed it and places it in the cart. As she is pushing her heavier load up to the front, she can’t tell where a line starts and where one ends. Analie puts herself into what she thought was an okay spot until she hears, “Sweetheart. You may be able to push pass all of the ugly girls in high school, but here you always go behind the men.” 

Analie starts to turn around when she realizes the man was talking to her; but then she hears in a harsher , but still very deep and sexy tone, a voice that memorized her all day says, “Dude. Calm the fuck down. She’s with me. Babe! Analie, I am over here. Did you get the paint we needed?” As Anie finishes her turn around she feels a strong, but still gentle, hand pulling her over to the check-out line to her left. 

“Oh. I am so sorry. Guess I didn’t see you sir. I’m so sorry again.” She turns to Gray and says, “Yea, I did. Only took 10 minutes after all.” She smiles at Gray as to say, “Thank you for saving me from the dick over there.” 

“Yea. Well ‘dude’, just keep your bitch in line and she won’t have any problems.” Anie can visibly see how upset Grayson is getting the more and more this man tries to speak and how he thinks it’s funny to verbally disrespect a woman in public. Anie thinks about her dad and brothers and tries to get in between this guy and Grayson to prevent a fight from breaking out; except Grayson just smiles and tells the guy, “Why don’t you just get in front of us and I’ll pay for your materials? Since being in line any longer is such a big deal for you.” 

The dick of a man, just stares at Grayson like he is seeing a ghost. When Grayson pushes you and your cart back to allow the man to get over, the man practically runs over. After the man is finished checking out and Grayson finishes paying. He starts to put your materials on the belt and mixes your things together. 

“Oh, no. You have done plenty for me. Seriously, I need to pay for our things.” Anie says as she tries to get passed Grayson to the card reader, but he bets her to it by sticking his credit card into the chip reader. He smiles as to tell her, “It’s okay. Please let me do this.” After the cashier puts all of Anie’s things back into her cart and Grayson grabs his bags, they start to walk out to their cars. Anie tried to think of a moment to thank Grayson for all of his help, but the silence feels so much better. As they reach the point where Anie needs to go one way and Gray takes the other, they both start trying to speak. Secretly both of them were hoping the other would give a sign of wanting to continue their day together, but it never happened. When they both start speaking at the same time, neither one understands the other. Grayson motions to Anie that she can talk first. She blushes and says, “I forgot about renting the drill. I’ll just go back in after loading my car. But thank you so much again for literally saving me.” She smiles at him, hoping he will get what she is putting off. 

“No problem whatsoever. But what if I can get your number, we can build it at my place. This way you know it will be done right and I have all of the tools needed.” Grayson is pulling out his phone so fast, Anie doesn’t can’t even remember where she put her phone. 

“I mean I would love that, because you can tell I struggle in the whole building aspect of life. But seriously only if you have some time, it can wait a minute before I really need it,” Anie says the whole time she is typing in her number and checking to make sure she spelt and wrote everything completely right; because it would be her luck to give him the wrong number by accident. 

Grayson looks at her and sees the way her blue eyes shimmer in the L.A. pink and purple sunset behind them. “Actually, I was just going to grab some dinner and then head home. My brother’s girlfriend is over, so I would be all alone for the rest of the night. Why don’t we load up your car, and you follow me over to my favorite restaurant and afterwards we build.” Anie had no idea what to say, she just nodded her head. Saying a prayer thanking God something finally worked out okay for her. 

“Yeah. That sounds really fun and a good way to spend our time. I mean building my sign, cause you know that has been my priority today,” Anie wants to run and hide by her cringy comment, but Grayson just laughs and agrees with her. Together they load up Anie’s car with everything she just bought and drives over to Grayson’s car. Before Grayson pulls out, Anie knows tonight is only going to end one of two ways: the biggest regret and mistake of her 21 years of life or she may have just found her eternal soulmate. Considering her previous relationship, Anie is really hoping for the latter to happen tonight. She could use a good gentleman in her life; and the possibility of this god of a man as her husband, doesn’t sound too bad.

[pitviperofdoom]

AA daemon ficlets are just really comforting and fun to write. So here’s another!

Maya’s POV is really weird to write because she’s a 170-year-old witch so like she’s still Maya but she also says dope shit sometimes.

---

The glass between them frustrates her.

It seems to Maya that whenever they talk face to face, there is either glass between them or the threat of glass hanging over their heads. And now she is free but the glass remains, because he has taken her place in that cage.

Because Redd White has put him there.

Aunt Morgan often speaks longingly of the old days, days that Maya is too young to remember well—when a witch could slay a man for an insult and no one batted an eye, much less put her on trial for it. Normally her aunt’s bitter words make her uncomfortable, as they once nettled Mia, but now…

Now part of her wishes she could turn back time two hundred years, just so she could put an arrow in Redd White’s heart herself. For Mother, for Mia, for herself, and now for Phoenix Wright.

He puts on a brave face for her benefit, his smile bright and reassuring even though it has to hurt, with his face bruised and ugly scratches across his nose and one cheek. The smile and the marks are nearly enough to blind her to the darkness beneath his eyes. But even if she couldn’t read his face, his dӕmon is too big to hide.

Mother knew how to read dӕmons, including human ones, because as queen it was a useful skill. She taught Mia before she disappeared. Now she’s gone and Aunt Morgan says humans aren’t worth their time, so it was left to Mia to pass on what she knew to Maya. Dogs are expressive dӕmons, she’s found, and Wright’s Dawn looks like she’s been caged for days, not mere hours. Her head is low, her tail between her legs, and her white fur is ragged and unkempt.

“Please tell me there’s something I can do,” she says. “You need evidence, don’t you? I’m not a lawyer, or a detective, but I am a witch. If there’s somewhere I need to search, or retrieve something, or question people—well, most people don’t say no to witches.”

“No,” he says firmly. “No, don’t do any of that. That’s what got me in here, and it’s what got your sister killed.” Maya swallows her anger and grief at the reminder. “Besides, I know a few things about White that I didn't before, and that’s what tomorrow will be about. He’s going to ‘prove’ me guilty by going up on the witness stand and lying. All I have to do is pick apart his lies until the whole story falls apart. Hopefully, I’ll get him to crack that way.”

Maya nods. She knows about that part of human legal customs, because Mia told her about it. It was one of her sister’s secrets to success. But it doesn’t feel like enough. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”

“Cheer us on tomorrow, I guess,” Dawn replies.

“I can do that!” she says eagerly, almost too eagerly. Aunt Morgan would be appalled at the display. “I can stand beside you in court, can’t I? Now that I’m not a prisoner anymore?”

He blinks at her, surprised. “W-well, I guess? You could act as my co-counsel, but…”

“I’ll do it,” she says fiercely. “You stood with me when no one else would, and you sacrificed your own freedom to give me mine. This is the least I can do for you, short of killing Redd White with my own hands.”

One of the officers shifts uncomfortably, and Wright splutters. “Okay, definitely don’t do that,” he says. “Because then you actually would be guilty of murder, and there’s not much I could do about that.”

“I won’t,” she says, offering a reassuring smile. “I don’t want to make this any harder for you. Even if I do think it would make things easier…” Wright gives her a pained look. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding. I’ll stand with you in court tomorrow, and maybe I can find a way to support you properly.”

“It’ll be fine.” Phoenix smiles again, wincing when it bothers his bruises. “Trust me.”

She wants to believe him, she really does. But Dawn’s tail is still between her legs, and the fear shines through in their eyes. There is no promise of victory, only tenuous hope.

Maya returns to her sister’s office that day, because there is little else that she can do but wait. As she approaches the building, she comes across a familiar face leaving it. In an instant she is wary, because the first thing he did upon meeting her was arrest her, and now that she’s free, she isn’t sure where that leaves them.

“Um... hello, Detective,” she says, and he startles like a big, ungainly rabbit.

“Oh! Y-yeah, hello, uh, Miss Witch! Detective Dick Gumshoe, at your service!” He stands rigidly before her, wide-eyed. At his feet, his pit bull dӕmon pants nervously and tries in vain to tuck her stubby tail.

“Can I go in?” she asks. “I won’t disturb anything, if you’re still looking…”

“By all means, Miss Witch! Don’t worry about disturbing anything, we’re finished here and the crime scene’s been cleaned up!” He shuffles out of her way, and she realizes that he’s afraid of her. And why wouldn’t he be? He accused her of her sister’s murder. A little over a century ago, that would have earned him an immediate arrow through the heart.

“It’s Maya,” she says, taking pity on him. “Maya Fey. Thank you.”

“No problem, Miss Fey! Sorry for yesterday, just doing my job, very glad to see you’ve been released! Have a nice day, ma’am! C’mon, Bobbie, let’s go.”

He and his dӕmon make a hasty retreat. Maya watches them go, then walks into her sister’s office. She sits down by the window where Mia’s body lay, and doesn’t move until her legs are stiff and achy, and the sunset casts long shadows throughout the room.

There’s a plant in the corner, still green and healthy, but the soil is dry to the touch. While she waters it, Zech flies to the desk to have a look at the computer. The distance tugs at their bond—another reminder of the ritual they haven’t completed, and that Mia won’t be there when they do.

When she’s satisfied with the plant’s condition, Maya goes to her dӕmon’s side to find the computer on and Zech scrolling through it. “What are you doing?”

“Just trying to answer an earlier question,” he tells her. “Since Phoenix already knows about Redd White, and we know that White’s dӕmon is—”

“A water moccasin,” Maya says. “Also known as a cottonmouth. I remember what Mia said.” On the screen, an encyclopedia article on the Felidae family slowly loads.

“I figured that was self-explanatory,” Zech says dryly. “So I thought it might be helpful to glean what we could from Mr. Edgeworth’s dӕmon. Starting with what she is. Maybe it'll give Phoenix an edge.”

“Makes sense.” Maya sits down in her sister’s chair, doing her very best not to think of it that way. “Let’s see what we can find.”

And they do. It doesn’t take them nearly as long as Maya feared, and she shares a triumphant look with Zech before sitting back and turning the machine off.

“Well, that’s interesting,” Zech says, feathers ruffling eagerly. “And rare, isn’t it?”

“Among humans, yes,” Maya replies, tickling his ruff feathers. “Almost unheard of, with witches.”

“Obviously.”

She’s not sure if it will help. But Mia says that court is a battle fought with information, and if Maya cannot fight with Phoenix tomorrow, then the least she can do is arm him.

Phoenix looks worse, somehow. He doesn’t look like he’s slept much, and beneath his battered smile, Maya can see that he’s scared. Dawn hardly looks any better. Her fur is still poorly groomed, her tail droops, and she presses close to her human like she’s afraid they’ll be separated.

“I’m fine,” he assures Maya when she asks. “I mean, if you think about it, however this trial ends up, I did what I said I’d do. Win or lose, you’re still innocent.”

She scowls, even though Aunt Morgan has always told her that it makes her look childish. “That’s not good enough,” she argues. “You’re innocent, too.”

“I know. And you know that, too. That’s what matters right now.”

“When this is over, everyone else will know it,” she reminds him.

She’s not sure how to describe the way his face softens at that. For the first time since yesterday, his dӕmon’s tail gives a tentative wag. “Thank you,” Dawn says softly.

“I’ve hardly done anything,” Maya answers, a little flustered.

“No, really,” Phoenix says. “You… it means a lot that you’re standing with me. With us. It really does. It’s just, we know what it’s like to have everyone against you but one person, and—” He hesitates. “I guess… thanks for being that one person, this time.”

“We haven’t done anything you didn’t do for us,” Maya reminds him.

The moment ends when Dawn goes rigid, and Zech lets out a warning croak, and Maya turns to find Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth approaching them, with his long-legged cat dӕmon stalking at his heels. This time, her hunter eyes pass over Maya and Zech to settle upon Dawn instead. Edgeworth’s eyes are likewise on Phoenix. Maya may as well not even be there.

“Wright,” Edgeworth says coolly.

“Edgeworth.”

Are lawyers always like this? If they were witches, the spells would already be flying. Human justice is a strange thing, if those who uphold it are at war with one another.

“I received a call from the Chief Prosecutor today,” Edgeworth says. He is straight-backed and composed as he speaks, his voice calm and conversational. At his feet, his dӕmon’s tail flicks from side to side, and her claws slide from their sheathes. Steady, serene, and ready to pounce.

“Did you?” Phoenix asks. He’s not quite as good at sounding calm.

“Apparently, anything that the witness says on the stand today is to be taken as the absolute truth,” Edgeworth goes on. “And the judge’s verdict will agree with it.”

“The judge, too?” Dawn yelps, pawing at the ground. Phoenix curls his hand into her bristling fur, either a calming gesture or a warning one.

Edgeworth ignores her. “I’ve been assured that any objection I make will be sustained, and any evidence I present will be accepted without question.”

Dawn starts forward, pulling against her human’s grip. “And you’re just fine with that, are you?” she growls.

“Dawn,” Phoenix warns her, tightening his fingers in her fur.

She pulls herself free to round on him, teeth bared. “Phoenix, the entire court is in White’s pocket and he’s telling us to our faces, I can’t just—”

“Save it for the courtroom,” he tells her shortly. His eyes haven’t left Edgeworth.

The prosecutor finally deigns to look at Dawn, if only for a moment. “I suggest you keep better control of your dӕmon, Wright. For an outburst like that, you’d be held in contempt. Though I suppose that would save everyone else a great deal of time.”

Phoenix shifts, in such a way that it’s almost a flinch. “So you’re saying I’m guilty, then,” he says, his voice tight. “End of story?”

“I’ll do whatever is necessary to obtain a guilty verdict.”

Maya sees red.

“How dare you.” He may be a head and a half taller than she is, but she is almost one hundred and fifty years older, and still young enough for her grief to boil over into fury. “Just yesterday you were convinced that I was guilty! Have you changed your mind so easily?” She feels Zech’s claws dig into her shoulder. “I’ll bet you don’t even have a shred of evidence that Phoenix is guilty! All you did was listen to that man’s lies and decide that your job was done!” Her eyes blaze. “Do you even care about finding my sister’s murderer, or would you rather cage another innocent and tell yourself it’s victory?”

The cat hisses at their feet, and Zech rasps out an answering challenge.

Edgeworth’s expression darkens, but he doesn’t back away. “Innocent? Can you even say for certain that he is? Or that anyone is?” His eyes return to Phoenix. “Criminals lie to escape justice, and they slip through the cracks thanks to cheap tactics like the ones I’ve seen you employ. All I can hope to do is have every defendant declared guilty.”

Phoenix holds his gaze for a moment longer, while Dawn growls and Maya swallows another furious outburst. But when Phoenix speaks, there is no anger, only sadness. “You’ve really changed, haven’t you, Edgeworth?”

In an instant, Maya’s rage plunges into ice-cold water. She looks to Phoenix in shock, and sees the answer to her question written all over his face.

It’s more than just the animosity between opposite sides of a conflict. There’s history there. As cold and aloof as Edgeworth holds himself, there is something deeply personal in this.

“…Don’t expect any special treatment,” Edgeworth says, and turns to go. His dӕmon glares balefully at them before turning to follow. The time for parley is over, it seems.

Except, it’s not.

Dawn steps forward. Her voice, laced with a growl, echoes in the lobby. “Thea.”

Halfway across the room, the cat dӕmon freezes. Edgeworth pauses as well, turning back to urge his dӕmon onward.

“Dawn,” Phoenix murmurs, but she doesn’t listen to him. She steps forward as far as their bond will allow, standing tall with her tail held high for the first time since Maya saw them in detention yesterday.

“Come on, Thea. This is wrong and you know it.”

“The only thing I know,” the cat replies calmly, “is that you are the defendant, and that makes it our job to find you guilty.”

“You’re being played,” Dawn growls. “I know you’re not in his pocket too, but you have to see that!”

“I don’t have to listen to this.” The cat takes another step toward her human.

“What happened to you and Miles?” Dawn demands. “Don’t you see what you’re doing?”

Edgeworth's face turns thunderous. The cat’s tall ears turn back, flat against her head, and she whirls around and storms back to face Dawn with a snarl. “What did you expect, Dawn?” she spits. “That we would throw away everything we’ve worked for, for—what?” Her lip curls back scornfully. “Childish sentiment?”

Dawn’s tail drops, and her white coat bristles with fury. When she finally speaks again, her voice is harsh with disappointment. “It’s not about sentiment, Alethea. I just thought you were smarter than this.”

Maya can almost hear the cat dӕmon’s claws scrape against the tile. Without another word, she whips around and stalks after Edgeworth.

Beside her, Phoenix’s hands shake. They don’t still until his dӕmon is within reach again, offering her fluffy coat to curl his fingers into.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“I know.”

“I couldn’t just—I had to say something—”

“I know.” Phoenix straightens up, his face set. “We’d better go in.”

This is their last chance for a private word. Maya catches him by the sleeve before he makes it to the door. “She’s a hybrid.”

He looks at her, confused. “What?”

“There’s a breed of cat called the Savannah,” she explains. “Though, it’s not really a breed in the truest sense. It’s made by crossing a domestic cat with a serval—that’s a wild cat from Africa.”

Her meaning dawns on him, and his eyes widen.

“I’m not sure if it helps,” she says. “Maybe it doesn’t. But hybrid dӕmons are said to indicate some kind of… split. A contradiction or duality in the soul.” She squeezes his arm in what she hopes is a reassuring way. “So, you could be right about him. He’s a hunter either way, but he may be more conflicted with himself than he lets on.”

The hope in his eyes is nearly enough to make her cry.

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 30

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: Cracks in Time Chapter 30 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 30/? SUMMARY: A little girl escapes the Time War when the Timelord’s return in “End of Time Part 2″. The newly regenerated Doctor must now raise the little girl while trying to find out why cracks in time keep following them around.

[A/N - Wow. Chapter 30. Can you believe it?]

The park wasn’t far from Craig’s flat so they walked.

Elise walked by the Doctor’s side with her backpack on her back as the Doctor played around with the football in his hands. If Elise had felt comfortable speaking in front of Craig and Sophie, she would have told the Doctor to leave his jacket at home instead of wearing it over the football jersey.

It made him look weird. More than usual.

“What are you actually called? What's your proper name?” Craig asked him.

“Just call me the Doctor.”

“Yeah,” Sophie said.

“I can't go up to these guys and say hey, this is my new flat mate, he's called the Doctor,” Craig told him.

“Why not?”

“Because it's weird. By the way, if you’re called the Doctor, then how come Elise’s got a normal name?”

“Because she’s a child. That’s why”.

When they got to the pitch, one of Craig’s teammates greeted them. “All right, Craig. Soph. All right, mate.”

“Hello, I'm Craig's new flat mate. I'm called the Doctor,” the Doctor said, giving the man air kisses.

“All right, Doctor. I'm Sean. So, where are you strongest?”

“Arms.”

“No, he means what position on the field,” Craig explained.

“Not sure. The front? The side? Below,” the Doctor said.

“Are you any good though?” Sean asked.

The Doctor spun the football on his finger. “Let's find out.” The Doctor took off his jacket and set it on the ground.

“I’ll watch her. Don’t worry”, Sophie told him.

The Doctor kissed Elise on the head before running out onto the field.

The game seemed simple enough, although it was nothing like the games they played on Gallifrey.

Elise had no interest in watching the game so she pulled out her sketchbook and started to draw Gallifrey, specifically the silver leaves on the trees.

“That’s rather good”, Sophie told her, “You’re like one of those child prodigies.”

Needless to say, Craig’s team won the match thanks to the Doctor. “

You are so on the team,” Sean told him as he handed out beers, “Next week we've got the Crown and Anchor. We're going to annihilate them.”

“Annihilate? No. No violence, do you understand me? Not while I'm around. Not today, not ever. I'm the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, and you basically meant beat them in a football match, didn't you?”

“Yeah.”

“Lovely. What sort of time?”

Craig opened his can and got sprayed with foam.

The same moment repeated again and again.

Elise and the Doctor stepped away from the group and the Doctor pressed a button on his earpiece as he started to talk to Amy.

“Amy? Amy? What does the scanner say? Yes, yes, it's, it's good. Zigzag plotter. Zigzag plotter, Amy. Amy? Are you there? Amy?”

The Doctor paused and Elise started to worry for their ginger friend.

“Oh, thank heavens. I thought for a moment the TARDIS had been flung off into the vortex with you inside it, lost forever. How are the numbers?”

The scene behind them stopped repeating.

“Fives? Even better. Still, it means the effect's almost unbelievably powerful and dangerous, but don't worry. Hang on, okay? I've got some rewiring to do.”

They made their way back over to the group.

“Sorry about that. Important phone call”, the Doctor said.

“No worries, mate”, Craig said, “Well I’m going to head back”.

“I think me and Elise are going to stay for a little while”. The Doctor took the football from Craig.

“Okay, see you at home then”, Craig said and the team left.

The Doctor took off his jacket and led Elise onto the pitch. He placed the football in front of her and then walked a few feet away.

Elise stared down at the ball.

“C’mon, Ellie. Just kick it over to me”, he told her.

Elise tried her hardest to kick the ball but it barely moved. Tears filled her eyes as she sat down with her arms crossed.

The Doctor laughed quietly to himself and walked over to her. “Aww, Elise. It’s okay”, he said, rubbing her back. He picked her up and set her on her feet. “C���mon, try it again”, he told her.

She kicked the ball again and it moved a little further.

“It’s too big, isn’t it? Tell you what, when we get Amy back we’ll get a child sized ball and we can practice with that, okay? Why don’t we go play on the playground instead?” he suggested.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They stayed at the playground until Elise tired herself out.

The Doctor carried her home and put her to bed while he worked on his device.

When Elise woke up, the Doctor was nowhere to be seen. She panicked and was about to start screaming for him when she heard voices coming from the living room. Elise got out of bed and padded into the living room.

“Oh, hey there”, the Doctor said, smiling at her.

Elise walked to him and he picked her up, placing her in his lap as he worked on the mess of wires around his neck.

“We didn’t wake her, did we?” Sophie asked.

Elise shook her head.

“She fell asleep after we went to the park.”

“How will she sleep tonight?”

“Probably won’t”.

“She’s not on a schedule or anything?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I let her do what she wants. Bolsters creativity”.

Elise hated it when adults talked about her like she wasn’t in the room at all.

“Like I was saying, life can seem pointless, you know, Doctor. Work, weekend, work, weekend. And there's six billion people on the planet doing pretty much the same,” Sophie said.

“Six billion people. Watching you two at work, I'm starting to wonder where they all come from,” the Doctor commented.

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

“So then, the call center. That's no good, then. What do you really want to do?”

“Don't laugh. I only ever told Craig about it. I want to work looking after animals. Maybe abroad? I saw this orangutan sanctuary on telly.”

“What's stopping you?”

“She can't. You need loads of qualifications,” Craig told him.

“Yeah, true,” Sophie said, “Plus it's scary. Everyone I know lives round here. Like, Craig got offered a job in London. Better money. He didn't take it.”

“What's wrong with staying here? I can't see the point of London.”

“Well, perhaps that's you, then. Perhaps you'll just have to stay here, secure and a little bit miserable, till the day you drop. Better than trying and failing, eh?” the Doctor asked.

“You think I'd fail?”

“Everybody's got dreams, Sophie. Very few are going to achieve them, so why pretend?” The Doctor took a drink of his wine and then spit it back into the glass. “Perhaps, in the whole wide universe, a call center about is where you should be.”

“Why are you saying that? That's horrible.”

“Is it true?”

“Of course it's not true. I'm not staying in a call center all my life. I can do anything I want!”

The Doctor smiled. She played right into his hands.

Sophie smiled back, realizing what he had just done. “Oh, yeah. Right. Oh, my God. Did you see what he just did?”

“No, sorry, what's happening? Are you going to live with monkeys now?” Craig asked.

“It's a big old world, Sophie. Work out what's really keeping you here, eh?” the Doctor told her.

“I don't know. I don't know,” she said.

Craig walked Sophie out to say goodbye while Elise and the Doctor went back to their room.

He put the finishing touches on his machine. “Right. Shield's up. Let's scan,” he said. He started to spin it. The Doctor had his earpiece in, so once again Elise could only hear half the conversation.

“Upstairs. No traces of high technology. Totally…” He ran over to check the readings. “Normal? No, no, no, no, no, it can't be. It's too normal. Without knowing and get myself killed? Then you really are lost. If I could just get a look in there. Hold on. Use the data bank. Get me the plans of this building. I want to know its history, the layout, everything. Meanwhile, I shall recruit a spy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next morning, the Doctor got up and made breakfast.

After he and Elise had eaten, he loaded up a breakfast tray and carried it to Craig’s room.

“Craig? Craig? Breakfast. It's normal. Craig?”

They entered his bedroom to find Craig still in bed.

The Doctor ran over to Craig and set the tray down on the bed. “Craig. Craig, Craig, Craig. I told you not to touch it!” He grabbed Craig’s arm that had a nasty looking line going up it. “Look, what's that? It's an unfamiliar and obviously poisonous substance. Oh, I know what'd be really clever, I'll stick my hand in it. Come on, Craig, breathe.” The Doctor slammed his fist down onto Craig’s chest.

Craig sat up and gasped.

“Come on, Craig, breathe. Thems are healthy footballer's lungs.” The Doctor grabbed the teapot and ran out of the room.

Elise wished she was older so she could help.

The Doctor ran back in and poured the tea into Craig’s mouth, straight from the teapot.

“I've got to go to work,” Craig told him.

“On no account. You need rest. One more.”

“It's the planning meeting. It's important.”

“You're important. You're going to be fine, Craig.” The Doctor jumped up from the bed. “Come along, Elise”. He took her hand and they went to the call center.

“Doctor! Elise!” Sophie said, “What are you doing here?”

“Craig wasn’t feeling well, so he asked me to come instead”.

“Oh, well his desk is over there. Do you need me to get you a babysitter for Elise?” the Doctor waved his hand dismissively.

“No. Elise will be fine as long as she has her sketchbook. You won’t even know she’s here”.

Around 2:00 pm, Craig came running into the office.

“Oh, afternoon,” his manager said.

“I'm so sorry, Michael. I don't know what happened. I've got no excuse.”

“I think that's not what my screen is telling me, Mister Lang,” the Doctor said, popping up from under his desk.

“What's he doing here? What are you doing here?” Craig asked.

“If that's your attitude, Mister Lang, please take your custom elsewhere.”

“No, no, no, that's one of my best clients!”

“Hello, Craig. How are you feeling? Had some time to kill. I was curious. Never worked in an office. Never worked in anywhere.”

“You're insane!”

“Leave off the Doctor. I love the Doctor. He was brilliant in the planning meeting,” his manager said.

“You went to the planning meeting?” Craig asked.

“Yes. I was your representative. We don't need Mister Lang any more. Rude Mister Lang.”

Sophie came over with a plate and a mug. “Here you go, and I found some custard creams,” she said, “Can I get Ellie anything?”

“Sophie, my hero,” the Doctor said, handing one of the biscuits off to Elise.

Elise tucked it away in her backpack for later.

“Hi, Craig. I went on the web, applied for a wildlife charity thing. They said I could always start as a volunteer straight away. Should I do it?” Sophie asked him.

“Yeah, great. Yeah, good. Go for it.”

“You look awful. About turn. Bed. Now,” the Doctor told Craig, “Who next? Oh, yes. Hello, Mister Joergensen. Can you hold? I have to eat a biscuit.”

[yastaghr]

Rounded Going Round

@kirinsaga commissioned me (During @sansy-fresh Art Drive) to do a little one-shot with some pregnant #sanster angst! You can find the finished work on Ao3 here:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21411682

Enjoy!

Sans tried hard not to wince when yet another door slammed behind him. It was hard not to take it personally after the first five times. He'd totally given up by the 11th. He'd stopped counting at 23. This was somewhere in the depressing realm beyond that.

It took him some time to gather himself enough to walk through the lobby of the hotel. He knew there were tears streaming down his face. He could feel them as they impacted with his gravid belly. His shirt was probably more like a lantern than a cover up now, but he had to walk through this lobby with all the confidence and ease he could. This hotel was deep in human territory, and a monster showing signs of weakness (heh. He was a living sign of weakness and he knew it) was in serious danger of being jumped. He did not want to become another hate crime statistic today. He couldn't bear to do that to Gaster, not on top of everything else.

Once he was not in that lobby Sans almost ran to the nearest alleyway. He needed to be safe somewhere where he could cry and cry and cry and not have to worry about people staring at him or judging him. Heh. He, the former Judge of the Underground, was afraid of being judged. How the tables turned.

He ducked behind the overflowing dumpster of the Thai-Spanish fusion restaurant, skidded on a smear of Thai iced tea flan, and crashed into the brick wall of the alley. He picked himself up out of mess of cultures and foods, shivered at the feeling of something leaking down the back of his neck, and teleported straight into the bathroom of the flat Gaster and he shared. Blue magic filled the room. It turned on the shower all the way to warm, untied his soiled dress shoes, stripped off his stinking khaki pants and blue button-up shirt, and locked the door. He did not want Gaster to see him like this. He needed to be clean first. He just did.

As he climbed in the shower, Sans reflected on the face of the human as he was told, for whatever numbered time it was this week, that the position he was applying for had already been filled and, while appreciated, his resume was surplus to requirements. Not every human had phrased it the same way, of course. Some were much more open about their speciesism. It was, after all, still legal. But one thing they all had in common was a certain amount of glee as they watched him fall apart.

Even now Sans couldn't stop the tears from coming. And why would he? It was healthy to express your emotions, and, moreover, he was pregnant and a monster. They both got a pass. Or at least…they did among those who actually cared about monsters. And pregnant people. To bad he hasn't been dealing with either of those.

Sans grabbed the bottle of body wash and poured a generous dollop of the stuff onto his body poof. The smell of cinnamon filled the air. Like always, it soothed him. The smell of cinnamon always brought him back to the first time he and Gaster had walked into the Snowdin Shop. The shopkeeper had just finished baking a fresh load of cinnabunnies. They’d tasted like absolute perfection, warm and sweet on his to- damn it. Now he wanted cinnabunnies. He’d have to text his lover once he got out of the shower. Denying his cravings only made him miserable.

At least he could relieve some of that misery right now. He scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed at the stains of mixed-culture food that covered his body. He stopped just short of rubbing his bones raw. Gaster always got so worried when Sans did that, and it always took so long to heal. He really couldn’t afford the wound right now. Heh. Figuratively and literally.

Finally Sans could look at his own bones and not see the multicolored stains. He was back to being clean, which was good because the hot water had just run out. He rinsed off the soap, turned off the water, and went to grab his towel.

A familiar hole-y hand passed him one of the biggest ones. Sans jumped back, slipped, and ended up sitting on the wet floor of the tub with a thud. A cracked skull instantly peeked through the curtains, worry evident in every line of his expression. Gaster apologized profusely. “I am so sorry for scaring you, Sans. I thought I’d made enough noise to alert you, but the sound of the shower is highly likely to have drowned it out. Do you need any assistance?”

Sans chuckled. Yeah, that was his Gaster. Always quick to apologize over the slightest reason. “it’s okay, g. you didn’t scare this old bag of bones too bad. but, i, ah...might need a little bit of a hand up? this belly really gets in the way.”

Gaster quickly set aside the towel and helped him up. “Of course, Sans. Come here, let me dry you off while you tell me about your day. I wasn’t expecting you home for another hour or two. Did something happen?”

Sans tells him about his day in detail, leaving out not one rejection, tear, or alleyway. Gaster nodded along, but Sans could tell he wasn’t as worried as he had been the last few weeks. His large, round eye sockets narrowed. “gaster. aren’t you paying attention? i still haven’t found a job, and the baby will be due in a few weeks, and-”

Gaster smiled up at him excitedly. “-It will be fine, Sans! I just finished setting up the party in the living room. The others will be arriving in a few hours, but I really wanted you to be the first to know. Come get dressed so I can show you!”

Sans sighed, but slipped into a clean t-shirt he had stolen from Gaster’s pile and some old gym shorts. He shuffled his feet into his signature pink slippers and shlepped after Gaster. He was lead into the living room. When they got there, his jaw dropped. There were balloons and streamers, cheerful music was playing from the speakers, the smell of baking treats wafted from the oven, and a custom cake sat proudly on the counter. Sans gravitated towards it. The cake was blue on the sides and had a night sky of sparklers scattered across the flat top. It also had, in white lettering against the dark background, a message. It read, “Home Loan Acquired!”

Sans felt tears roll down his zygomatic process. He wiped them away and turned to Gaster. The other took a step back from the upset fury radiating off of Sans.

“how could you. we can’t afford all this, not and still make the payments. and we don’t have a home loan! that human bank said they wouldn’t lend to us unless we both had a job, and i keep getting turned away! this is all...all…” Sans broke down into tears. Why did this hurt so much?

Gaster wrapped his arms around him and rubbed his back gently. “It’s okay, Sans. I should have told you sooner. I was talking with King Asgore today over lunch, and I happened to mention our difficulties with the loan. He was sad that the human banks were being so prejudiced, but not overly surprised. I, on the other hand, was struck dumb when he offered to give us a loan from the Royal Bank. I tried to protest, but he insisted. He said that’s why they set up the Royal Bank in the first place: to help out monsters in positions like ours. So we do have a home loan, and at a much better rate than the humans were offering us. And there is no requirement for you to find work. He was very upset that they would force something like that on us, especially with you so pregnant. Queen Toriel could barely function while she was carrying Prince Azriel. So we don’t have to worry! We can get the house of our dreams and be moved in before the baby comes.”

Now Sans’ tears were ones of happiness. “i can’t believe this. it’s a dream, right? there’s no way we could be this lucky.”

Gaster nuzzled his forehead. There was a huge smile on his face. “It is real, love. We’re really going to do it. In a few days we’ll be adding books to the shelves in our new living room. We can pick out the perfect dining room set. You can read me the instructions while I build our new crib. Are you happy about it?”

The pregnant Sans nodded, the tears still flowing as hormones got behind the emotion and shoved. “i am. i’m so happy i just…” He breathed in a huge sigh of relief. No more rejections from speciesist humans. “i’m just so happy.”

Gaster smiled, squeezed him carefully, then released him from the hug. “That’s good. Now, do you want to help me set up the extra bean-bags in the living room for all our guests? I...may have gone critical in my excitement. There will be 14 people joining us to celebrate. The Royal family, of course, and your brother and his fiancee. Dr. Alphys and Undyne, obviously, and my followers. They’d feel so sad if they were left out.”

Sans chuckled. “good thing we’re going to be moving into a big house. we’ve got too many friends to fit in a small one.”

His husband laughed his clarion laugh. “Good indeed. Now, do you want to...actually, why don’t you work on the food while I move furniture? We can never be too careful. Our little one’s life hangs on the balance.”

“sure thing, drama queen,” Sans said fondly. “i’ll get started on some more snacks.”

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Hearthway Hollow Chef Ryker Chapter 3

And at last, here’s the last part of my bastardized version of my commission from @momolady​ has been awesome in letting me post it and doing the commission in the first place and if you want your own werewolf in the idealic picturesque Hearthway Hollow or whatever other universes she has- COMMISSION HER please for the love of chocolate and all that is holy do it, she’s awesome and amazing - in the name of the smores- specifically the chocolate, the marshmallow and grahmcracker amen. 

I have been saving these pictures for forever. especially of that kitchen with the blue countertops that is my dream kitchen right there and when you get a foodie home cook marrying a chef- their kitchen is going to be off the charts amazing. I mean look at that pantry and that spice nook. Come on. Doesn’t that make you want to cook? It makes me want to cook. Thanks for reading. 

“I think that’s the very last box,” I sigh as I hand the box over to the mover before I take one last look around the old place to make sure I got everything, all the memories I had of this house seemingly to dance in my memory as I look it over as I realize- it was just a house that was my home but now I’m going to my new home and I can’t open a new chapter of my life without closing the last one and with the last shut of my door- it’s like the place transforms and it’s just a house again- ready for a new family to call it home- a family that isn’t mine and I feel a sense of relief and excitement. Del is staying with my parents while the move is going and they’ll bring her down to Hearthway Hollow once things are done.

The idea of the move came as a shock to my friends and family, but it wasn’t a completely unexpected one but where I was moving to was, being from Michigan, where most of my sisters still were, they expected me to move up north, instead- I was moving further south, my baby sister who was in Tenessee was the happiest because now we were closer together. Ever since Del and I took the vacation to Hearthway Hollow, we had both had been enamored by the place and I took it as a sign because the car that had died there was something that Michael had said that ‘it would get me from point A to B.’ And Hearthway was the very last point B. And I wasn’t going to argue with fate on that. But it also didn’t help me gain any support from my inlaw’s side of the family that I had met someone while I was there. Ryker Guillermo was the head chef of his own restaurant in the town as well as being one of the many werewolves there. For the few weeks I stayed, Ryker and I had grown very close and were practically inseparable. After Del and I went home, Ryker and I continued to talk, we texted constantly. Video chatted a lot, and he had even come up to visit for a long weekend to meet everyone and had even gone to Cedar Point with Del and I in our first ‘new family tryouts’ which actually went much better than we thought it would because Del warmed right up to him and my family welcomed him with open arms which was to me- most of what mattered. 

Despite this, we had agreed to go slow due to all the circumstances surrounding me, I had Del, I was still grieving the passing of my husband, plus my overprotective “extended family” and “friends” on my husbands’ side who had their issues with me ‘moving on too quickly’,  not to mention I wanted to give Ryker a chance to understand my health issues and mental state. But he never wavered, not once. 

So after giving it a lot of careful thought and discussing it with Del, we decided to move to Hearthway Hollow. Ryker was my rock through everything, he got me all the info I needed, he had a custom built house that had just gotten finished a week before I moved down and that was my dream house come to life and he didn’t hesitate to put my name as a cosigner so that it was our house and had me make a few changes to it to really make it mine too meant the world to me. Pluse he added me as a cosigner on his checking and savings accounts too before I moved my own accounts over to the local bank and credit union, although to find out how much I really had to my name was a pleasant surprise but he didn’t get dollar signs in his eyes like everyone else had feared, if anything he looked at the way I had invested it and helped me to restructure it so that all that money was working better for me and he just made this whole stressful situation a breeze and surprisingly pain free. Del was signed up for school in the fall and was looking forward to it since she had made so many friends while she was down there, especially at camp. 

Just as I was getting ready to leave the house my phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Ryker sighs. “How is everything going on your end?”

I break into a big grin. “Just getting ready to head out with the movers,” I tell him. “How are things on your end?”

“Really good, thank you for sending the beer, I sure hope you’re not planning on drinking a lot of it by the time you get down here,” he chuckles. “Shahan and I just finished emptying the last truck you sent. It’s heading on back now.”

“Y'all work fast,” I chuckle.

“Yeah well, Billy and a bunch of others came over to help out, thus why there won’t be much beer, they’re all very pleased by that provision, thank you.” Ryker grunts and I hear the crackle of plastic and him saying his goodbyes in the background as the others say ‘hi’ and ‘thanks for the beer!’ in the background which makes me smile because I had gone to Jungle Jims and had gotten a freaking palate of different kinds of beer, with the way Ryker helped me restructure my investments including making a new one that was paying out way better than the old, I could definitely afford the splurge. “You are really going to owe me that massage now Beautiful.” Ryker grins as I hear him shut the door and lock it.  

I laugh as my cheeks blossom bright red. “Did you talk to Kai yet?” I ask. “About the job?”

“Oh yeah, he’s extremely excited to have you join the team. Says he can take more time off for his boyfriend now,” Ryker laughs. “But he says he’s ready to have you start in the fall when Del goes back to school just like you asked.”

I sigh with relief. “It’ll be nice to get back to work again. While Del is in school I won’t know what to do with myself.” I walk out of the house and head towards the moving truck.

“Well uh,” Ryker starts off slowly, “you do know you’ll have a boyfriend right?”

My stomach flip flops around again, you’d think I’d be used to it after the last couple of months but no, meanwhile my heart jumps into my throat. “Do I?” I giggle breathlessly, although part of me is hoping that term boyfriend would get upgraded to ‘fiance’ sooner than later. 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles. “One that’s going to cook for you and take care of you and everything.”

“Oh?” I get into my car to start the procession to Hearthway Hollow. “And what is everything?” I start the car and the phone connects to the bluetooth.

“Well, if you’re ready, I figured we’d mate,” Ryker’s husky voice comes through the speakers loud and clear. 

I was relieved the movers were in the truck so they didn’t hear Ryker boom over the speakers. I hurriedly turn down the volume and catch my breath. “I’m not that kind massage therapist, you know. I’m legitimate, I could lose my license.” I tease to dissuade my excitement.

Ryker laughs. “Well what you do in the privacy of your own bedroom ain’t none of the board’s business and besides, I’m not going to be a client, I’ll happily just be your whatever you need me to be.” Ryker argues and I’m just praying he’s alone and no one else is listening to this. 

I try to hold back a delighted squeal and fail as I cover my blushing face with my hands and shake my head at a stop light for a quick second. “Rye! I’m trying to drive! You need to behave just a little bit so I can get us out of here and home to you sooner than later.” I whine. 

“I’ll let you be then, because I’m way too excited and I won’t behave at all so-” he sighs. “Be safe, Zara. I can’t wait to see you.” He cooes. 

“Me too,” I murmur softly. “I’ll be home soon.” I hang up the phone and lead the movers towards Hearthway Hollow. We do a straight shot, stopping a few times for the usual food and bathroom break, but we end up in Hearthway Hollow late that night. 

Ryker comes out of the house with a great big grin on his face, having tracked my progress on a GPS map. He rushes out, grabbing me in a great big hug while lifting me up in the air. “I’m so glad to see you!” He kisses me, and I have not felt this good since the last time I was with him. He makes me feel young and new again, and safe and protected and cared for and treasured and loved and adored and sexy and I could go on and on for days. 

“I’m so tired!” I whine. “And hungry.”

Ryker kisses my cheeks. “I have all that covered.” He leads me inside where he has a small table set up with chairs. There’s food laid out on top with candles and drinks. “It was a little difficult timing when to take the food out of the oven, I didn’t want it to get cold. But I think I got it just right.” Ryker grins proudly. 

Ryker pulls my chair out for me as I sit down. “Oh wow,” I gasp. “This is so nice! Thank you!” I tilt my chin up to meet another kiss.

“I also have the bed set up for you too. I have not found where you packed your blankets and sheets so I had Amelie help me pick some out.” He sits down beside me to serve food. He loads my plate with some sort of orzo dish, kebabs, and some sort of cheesy melting ooze that I’m sure Del would go nuts for.

“This is so sweet,” I say with tears in my eyes. “I can’t believe you did all this.”

Ryker beams as he pours me more wine. “I wanted to make it up to you,” he murmurs. “I didn’t get to do the courtship ritual as planned, but I wanted to do something.” He sits back in his chair. “I couldn’t just get off scottfree.”

“You’ve done so much though.” I take hold of his hand. “I don’t mind missing out on a few dead deer. Although, I wouldn’t say no to those, now that we have a freezer to put them in.” I add as I waggle my eyebrows suggestively.  

Ryker grins as he laces his fingers with mine. “Well, it’s more than that,” he murmurs. “It’s about showing your mate how you can provide for them and take care of them.” He kisses the back of my hand. “It isn’t just you I have to prove myself to, it’s Del as well.”

“Del already thinks the world of you,” I say shaking my head. 

“Still, I don’t want her to question anything or have any doubts.” Ryker nods towards the hallway. “I got her something special made. When you’re done I’ll show you.”

I finish off my last bit of wine then stand up. “I’m good, let me see.”

Ryker takes me to Del’s new room that had just gotten painted a lovely pastel lilac purple only days before- where the boxes are still stacked in the middle of the room, but her bed is set up already and the frame around it has been made to look like a shark. 

“Oh my gosh!” I gasp, laughing softly. 

The shark is huge with a hole in the side where Del can get into her bed, beside it there is a small step ladder leading to a flat landing at the top.

“I figured we can either put another bed here or Del can use it as a play area.” Ryker pats the top. “The mouth part has a small closet area for her clothes of whatever she wants.”

“Where did you get this?” I gasp in awe. 

“Billy’s daughter Ellie made it for me, she’s a whiz with stuff like this,” Ryker says with a proud grin. His expression then morphs into one of anxiety. “Do you think Del will like it?”

I run into his arms, hugging him tight and nuzzling my face against his chest. “She’s going to love this!” As I look up at Ryker, we kiss. His soft lips brush against mine and his moustache tickles my upper lip but I’ve gotten used to it. I moan softly as his hands rub down my back then squeeze around my soft waist.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “You’re probably exhausted from the trip. Come on, I’ll tuck you in.” He leads me to the master bedroom where he has my bed set up with brand new crisp sheets and a new comforter that’s gorgeous. 

“This is nice,” I sigh as I get undressed. “I don’t get a shark bed?” I tease. 

Ryker snorts, his eyes lingering on me as I slip my shorts off. His strong hand touches my bare thigh as he fingers trace the line of my panties. “I figured you’d be happy having a wolf in your bed.” He rumbles. 

My heart is hammering fast. “Well when you put it like that,” I sigh.

Ryker kisses me. He then places a shirt in my hands. “I brought you one of my shirts, will that suit you?”

I bring the shirt up to my face, smelling his detergent with a whiff of spices. “It will.”

Ryker kisses me. “I’m going to go clean up. I’ll hop into bed with you when I’m done.” He turns the light out as he leaves.

I slip on his shirt and take my nightly meds and lay down in bed. I relax, but just enough to let my body sag. I didn’t want to fall asleep right away, I wanted to be awake when Ryker came to bed. Unfortunately, exhaustion won out so I passed out hard before I even heard the sink turn on.

I woke up in the morning as a crisp breeze drifted over me. As I opened my eyes I saw the window was open, letting in the brisk air. Ryker wasn’t in bed, but his side of the bed was still messy. I got out of bed and stretched until my back popped. Ryker shirt rose up over my belly and I tugged it down.

I went out of the bedroom, smelling coffee, pancakes and bacon as I went into the living room. In the kitchen I heard Ryker moving around so I peeked around the corner. He was half naked in the kitchen, just in his underwear. His broad and tattooed back was turned to me so I could see it flex as he moved, for as hairy as his chest and forearms and legs were, it was really nice that his back wasn’t. His underwear hugged around his butt, giving me a great view.

“I know you’re back there,” Ryker chuckles. He glances over his shoulder at me with a wink. “Good morning.”

“Muh-morning.” I step in. I see he’s wearing an apron as he cooks to protect his front at least. “You didn’t have to do this all by yourself, I could have helped.” I say as I walk into the kitchen.

“Nonsense. It’s the least I can do.” He grins at me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock.” I walk up behind him,wrapping my arms around his waist while he cooks. I kiss his bare back, in the middle of his back and a shudder goes down his spine.

“You’ve found my weak spot,” Ryker chuckles nervously as I giggle before I kiss it again, my lips just a little open before I pull my hands from around him and start scratching his back before Ryker groaned and practically melted into a puddle in front of the huge stove. 

“Your back huh?” I giggle. “Really? That’s a coincidence.” I hum as I watch his reaction as I scratch his back and find his ‘itchy spots’ which are on the inside edges of his shoulder blades and the middle of his upper back and down his spine and I see that gooseflesh has broken out over his arms as he breathes a few shuddering breaths and pushes into my hands so that I’m scratching harder which I happily oblige. 

He nods with a cute, awkward smile on his face. “I’m sensitive there, especially the nape of my neck and lower back.”

“That won’t affect your massage will it?” I brush my fingertips with a featherlight touch on his sides before moving to his lower back just to watch him squirm as I grinned evilly. 

Ryker bites down on his bottom lip then gives me a softened glare over his shoulder before I stop and continue with my scratching. “It might.”

I kiss his back some more. “Do you have work today?” I ask.

Ryker shakes his head. “Today and tomorrow I have off. I wanted to make sure you got everything moved in.”

“You’re so sweet.” I finally release him so he can finish cooking. I get myself a big cup of orange juice then sit down in the breakfast nook and I’m delighted when he serves me breakfast. After 15 years of serving Michael every meal I ever made him, it’s Ryker who serves me for a change. Such a small gesture but meaning so much. 

After breakfast we get everything unloaded from the moving truck. A bunch of people come by to help, so it makes everything go by so much easier. By the end of the day I have all the boxes placed in the rooms they belonged in. And it was hilarious when Ryker was unpacking the vases I had made at art therapy before he found Michael’s urn and thought it was just another vase. 

“Wow this is gorgeous Zara!” Ryker had praised as he turned it over in his hands and appreciated the details I had put into the vase as the others stopped to see it and gave their stamps of approval too. 

“Thanks, be careful with that one though, it’s Michael’s urn.” I told him before he spazzed a little himself and nearly dropped it before the others went to rush to try and grab it before it smashed on the ground as I cackled before they managed to secure it and I took it from them and put it away in Del’s room on her bookshelf as Ryker was congratulated for being ‘so smooth’ but a quick kiss and reassurance from me and he was good, after that he regaled himself to the grill to grill up some hamburgers, hot dogs and brats for everyone who had come to help.  

“Del’s room, the bathroom, and the kitchen will need unpacking first,” I sigh to myself as I make a plan as I make notes in my notebook and try to organize my thoughts. 

“When does Lady Del get delivered?” Ryker asks as he collapses next to me and downs a bottle of water. 

“Next week,” I sigh. “So getting her things moved in and ready is the first thing.” I sit down on the sofa and slouch. “It all seems like so much.”

Ryker sits down beside me and puts his arm around me. “It’ll be easy once you get started. Just seems like so much right now because it’s all new. Just take breaks so you don’t get overwhelmed and I’ll help as much as I can.” He gently advises. 

I rest my head on his shoulder. “You’re so amazing. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you.”

Ryker kisses the top of my head, gently brushing my hair aside. “I think I know,” he murmurs. “You don’t have to say anything.”

I place my hand on his thigh. “My massage table was unloaded,” I say. “How about I give you that long promised massage tomorrow, I need to recover from today.”

Ryker’s cheeks grow dark red and he clears his throat. “You sure? It can wait. I know you’re tired and you want to get things done so-” I silence him by kissing him.

“It’ll be a nice little break for both of us.” I run my fingers through his amazing dark thick hair. “You’ve earned several of them anyway.”

Ryker’s smile is soft as he looks at me. “Only if you’re sure.”

“Positive,” I say with a grin.

The next day I wake up with Ryker’s arms wrapped tightly around me. As I start to move he squeezes and buries his face against my neck. He whines softly, not wanting me to get up.

“Good morning,” I sigh wistfully. “Sleep well?”

His hot breath on my neck makes me shiver but his teeth as they drag down my skin makes me weak. His hand moves up, squeezing my breasts gently for a moment and I melt. 

“Oh Ryker,” I moan as I move my head back to offer more of my neck to him and push my butt into his groin and grin when there’s something very large and very hard poking my butt. 

“Sorry,” he chuckles softly. His hand moves away and rubs my belly tenderly. “Got a bit excited.” He kisses my neck. “The wolf started to come out.” He moves his hips away so he’s not pressing into me. 

I squeeze my thighs together, feeling a heat start to tingle. “You could have let it out, morning sex is never a bad thing,” I whined. 

Ryker squeezes me again. “Not yet,” he sighs. He then releases me and sits up. “I’ll go start breakfast.” He gives me a quick kiss. “Get a shower and enjoy your morning.”

I pout at him. “I would have enjoyed you.”

Ryker grins. “I’m not my best until I’ve had a good meal. You deserve me at my peak.” He kisses me again. “If you’re ready though, I’m ready.” He presses his forehead to mine. 

“After breakfast,” I say as I sit up. “I’ll give you your massage and for the first time and last time in my career I’ll consider a happy ending but it just can't be on the table itself. Because I have intergrety and I can’t have you thinking I’ll fuck any other man on my table.” I insist. 

“Of course not, besides you’re my mate and you’re already strongly scented, they’d be a fool to even try.” Ryker agreed as he grabs me and pulls me to him suggestively. 

I bite my lip as I stroke my hand down his hairy chest. “Then we’ll see what arises.”

“It’ll arise, trust me,” Ryker scoffs. He kisses me again before forcing himself to go into the kitchen.

I get a shower then set up the table so after we eat it’ll be an instant thing to get to. Once breakfast is over, Ryker gets his own shower. I then set up my supplies, laying a flannel sheet set and a light blanket over the table, lighting a candle, dimming the lights, and turning on some soothing music.

As I’m warming up my hands and the massage lotion on them, Ryker comes out of the bathroom with just a towel around his waist. “So uhm-” he says unsurely. “Do I just get up there...as is?”

“If you’d like,” I say with a smile. “No sense in getting dressed since it’s just me. Plus you’ll have this to keep you modest.” I say as fold down the light blanket and sheet as he comes over. 

“Just you,” he scoffs. He then drops the towel and hops up on the table before I lay it over his lower half so his back is exposed to me. As muscular and amazing as it is. 

My whole body has burst into flames. I only got a quick peek before he laid down, but I am pretty sure the werewolf isn’t the only monster in the room.

“What smells good?” Ryker asks.

“Candles,” I reply quickly. “It’s a lemon and basil scent.”

“Mm, I love that,” Ryker sighs. He then gasps as I take my hands to his back.

“Any problem spots?” I ask him as I rub the lotion into his skin and get a feel for what I’m working with. Fantastic strong muscle tone meets my hands. 

Ryker groans in his chest. “I uhm…” he lets out a warbled moan as I reach his lower back. “Shoulders and lower back,” his voice goes darker and I’m pretty sure he’s trying not to drool through the face rest. 

“Thought so.” I start to rub slowly. “So do you want a nice relaxing massage or do you want me to fix this?” I ask as I pick out the knots in his shoulders and between his shoulder blades. 

“Please fix it.” Ryker pleaded. 

“You got it, now obviously I’m heavy handed so if it gets to be too much, just tell me to ease up and I will.” I reassure him then start in, going for the deeper pressure and more focused work because I’m heavy handed and a problem solver and when I had told Ryker that I spoke muscle, he had no idea how fluent I was in it. 

Ryker lets out a whimpering cry as I coach him to breathe with me when I find the first knot then groans as I get the knot out and the muscle submits and relaxes before I continue on before it’s more moans and good groans instead of whimpers as he drops into the parasympathetic cycle. As I move down his back to his legs, I notice him squirming a bit.

“Everything ok?” I ask. “You’re moving quite a bit, I need you to keep still and relaxed.” I rub my hand down his thigh.

“Sorry it’s just uhm-” he pants. “A bit of discomfort.”

“Discomfort?” I gasp in shock. “Where? I told you to tell me if I’m rubbing too hard.”

Ryker chuckles. “Oh my god, don’t make me say it, Zara!”

I then realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” I let out a soft giggle. “Oh.” I kiss his shoulder as my hand moves between his legs. “Do you like it that much?” I purr. 

Ryker grunts as my fingers squeeze along his inner thigh and up towards his butt. “It’s you,” he moans. “Even if you had been poking me with a stick it would have happened.”

“Roll over then,” I moan into his ear. “Let me take care of you My Love.”

His whole body shivers but he does as I command. He lays on his back, pressing his forearm over his eyes and his cheeks are as red as mine. He bites down on his bottom lip, waiting for my reaction as I move the blanket down to see my prize. 

I glide my eyes down his chest, his belly. I then see his cock laying against his stomach. It’s thick, very thick, with nice veins running along it. It quivers for a moment, lifting off his belly for a second before laying back against it. He’s so much bigger than Michael could ever hope to be in his wildest dreams. Hopefully Ryker knows how to use this monster well. 

“Is this what they meant by big bad wolf?” I take his cock into my hand, squeezing at the base before I stroke up. I lean forward, kissing his chest and darting my tongue over his nipple. 

“Zara,” Ryker moans loudly as he fists his hand into the sheets. 

I kiss his neck, moving my hand faster on his shaft. Ryker’s mouth hangs open and he moves his arm away from his face. He sits up, capturing my face between his palms to kiss me. He bites my lip sighing into my mouth as I pump his cock. 

“Get on the bed,” he snarls into my ear. “Now.”

My nipples get hard instantly at his low, raspy growl. He stands off the table, pushing me down onto the mattress. He rips away my underwear and pushes up the shirt I’m wearing before I take it off. He kisses between my breasts, gently nipping my soft skin as he spread my thighs which eagerly part for him. 

“Ryker,” I mewl softly.

“It’s ok right?” He pants. 

“Of course,” I whisper. “I can’t wait any longer.”

A big smile breaks over his face. He dips down, kissing me as one of his hands finds purchase on my hip. He growls into my mouth as his fingers from his other hand slip around in my growing wetness. His mouth moves down me until his head is buried between my thighs. I already notice he’s starting to shift, changing ever so slowly. Sharp teeth drag on my thighs and I let out a loud whimper. His tongue presses inside me and I reach down to grab the top of his head, his glorious hair threading between my fingers. 

A low growl vibrates through me, making my eyes roll back. Ryker snarls and slurps, pressing his tongue inside then licking over me. Once his fingers join the mix, I’m done for. They rub circles around my clit, my back arches off the bed, and I let out a long, pleasured yell as my first orgasm floods me with euphoria. 

Ryker rises up, his sharp blue eyes gazing at me as he licks his chops. “My mate,” he whispers. He cups his hand around my cheek. “Are you ready?”

I whimper as I nod emphatically as his cock rubs against my slit. I reach down, opening myself up with my fingers. “Yes,” I breathe. “I need you.”

Ryker crouches down, guiding himself inside as he kisses me. I lose my breath as he stretches me. I wrap my arms tight around him, as do my legs, letting him rock me with the pulse of his hips. My toes curl and I lose my voice. I have not felt this good in...ever, he’s filling me to the max and it’s wonderful. Ryker’s dark growls in my ear, and his soft fur presses against my skin and some of his massive weight starts to push me into the bed but I love it, it’s making me feel safe and desired and dominated in the best way possible. He pulses in me, sending a warmth through my body that causes my legs to spasm and my vision to go blurry because my second orgasm is just that good. 

He continues to snarl, rutting harder. I feel the knot at the base of his cock rub against my folds, slowly finding purchase before locking into place inside me. I bury my face in his neck as my hands claw down his back and chest in my third orgasm. Ryker shivers, throwing his head back with a powerful howl as he releases inside me and I feel it in my bones and every fibre of my being. 

For a moment, I’m gone, I’ve left this world to enter the next. It isn’t until Ryker is kissing me I return. I gaze up into his gentle blue eyes as tears slide down my cheeks.

“You ok?” He gasps as he fears he’s hurt me.

I nod and whimper. “I’m just so happy,” I sniffle

“I love you, Zara,” he whispers into my ear. “I’ll do everything I can to make you happy and I’ll take care of you, I love you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” I cry.

We make love again not long after that, then again, and again and again, I don’t get as much work as I want done that week, but I am still able to unpack Del’s room and my room and the bathrooms and of course the kitchen. Her grandparents bring her home and have a tour of the new house.

Del just about goes feral when she sees her new bed. She instantly climbs on top and hugs Ryker around his neck.

“Thank you! Thank you!” She squeals excitedly. “I love you Ryker!”

It’s enough to make me cry, but Ryker has to control himself from full on sobbing. “I love you too, Lady Delilah.” 

Ryker proposes and takes “The Daddy Oath” with Del and moves in a few months later, giving Del and I time to get used to our home. Not like he wasn’t there constantly anyways. In fact, it was Del who asked him to move in with us and that was the cue we were looking for. 

“You should stay forever,” she had said with a nod. “It only makes sense. After all, you and Mom will have a baby sooner than later.”

We both had a laugh, after all, as much as I wanted another child I thought it just wasn’t in the cards for me. But I should have trusted how perceptive Del was, because not long after Ryker moved in, I got the shock of my life.

The news came from my doctor, who I was having my first check up with who had run some blood work. “You should have told me your were pregnant Zara. It surprised me!” She chuckles.

“I’m what?” I ask. “That can’t be right.” Because I was there to get birthcontrol. And I hadn’t been off of it for...oh. Whoops. 

“Oh,” she looks me over. “So it’s a surprise for you too? Well then, lets go over this now.” We have a long talk and tweak my meds a little. Before it was thought I couldn’t have a baby again, but apparently, Hearthway Hollow has a way of working out miracles because the pregnancy was already stable and I was beyond happy about it. 

Ryker was so excited when I told him the news, he started crying and hugging me tight. Del was acting smug, pleased as punch she had predicted this happening.

Ryker asked Del for permission to marry me sooner than later, which Del agreed to under the strict rule he not die of a heart attack which Ryker reassured her by showing her his own blood work and his own heart scan that his heart was perfectly fine which was reassuring to Del and I. We had a quick marriage at the courthouse, figuring we would have something nicer once the baby was born.

After that Ryker went into nesting mode and all those dead deer and other animals I was supposed to have gotten during the courtship- I was getting them now and Ryker was torn between working extra hard at the restaurant and wanting to be with me constantly and cooking up feasts big enough to feed a dozen people when he wasn’t touching me if not carressing me and the growing bump too and put on quite a bit of sympathy weight.  

Late in April, our son came two weeks early. He came out with a full head of hair and the softest, smallest cries I have ever heard. Del could kill with her screams as a baby, but our little Gavin was so gentle. Despite being a little early, he was a record weight and very healthy which made me think they may have gotten my due date wrong. It took me a while to recover, just like with Del, but soon we were all home.

I woke up one morning to find Del curled up beside me while Gavin was asleep on Ryker’s chest with our dog Max sleeping at the foot of the bed while the cats slept on the bench of the master bedroom’s bay window. I felt so at peace, so happy, I almost thought for a moment I was dreaming.

“I’ll make breakfast in a second, I don’t wanna bother them.” Ryker grins at me. 

“I can stay here forever,” I whisper. “It’s ok.”

“I can’t,” Del grumbles. “Dad, I’m hungry.”

The smile that blooms on Rykers face is more than I can bear. I was warned, Hearthway Hollow has a way of trapping you, but it also can perform miracles.

[swanandapirate]

A Muted Hue of Grey (14/14) -- CSBB

Summary: Emma Swan liked being a PI in Boston. It was a fun job, she had an okay income and she was a good one at that, so there was no logical reason to try and leave. Except for the fact that she wanted to, so badly. And, when she received a job offer for what seemed to be the opportunity of a lifetime, she did exactly that. Leave. Run. All the way to London. The job was simple: trailing a man called Killian Jones. Easy enough.

Well, until things get complicated, that is.

Rating: M (previous mentions of alcohol abuse, violence, and sex)

Wordcount: 3415

Links: ao3 // ff.net // spotify chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3 // chapter 4 // chapter 5 // chapter 6 // chapter 7 // chapter 8 // chapter 9 // chapter 10 // chapter 11  // chapter 12 // chapter 13

A/N: Here we are, the last chapter. This is such a surreal moment because after more than a year this story is over and done. This @captainswanbigbang experience has been one of a lifetime and has taught me so much!

One last thank you to @ofshipsandswans and @acourtoftruelove. Honestly, I can't even properly express how important these two have been for this fic, its successful completion, and just in my life in general. I both love you loads. 

Not to forget my amazing artist @shady-swan-jones who has made epic art for this fic, who is just such a lovely person and who, out of all the possible fics, picked mine, for which I am very thankful. 

Without further ado, one last time, A Muted Hue of Grey

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

“Emma, no.”

“Killian.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Emma,” he repeated, his blue eyes serious as he kept eye contact and shook his head.

She rolled her eyes before returning the look.

“I have to go home,” she said.

“No, you don’t,” he disagreed.

His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back to him. The bedcovers shifted, baring her legs as she attempted to wriggle out of his hold and get out of bed.

“I haven’t been home in three days,” she told him, reminding him of how one evening together had shifted into a night together which had then merged into another one and another.

Not that she had any qualms with it.

None whatsoever.

Especially with the way his lips were pressing feather-light kisses against her spine.

“Stay.”

Emma couldn’t bring herself to say no. Not to him, not to the way his hair was so playfully mussed, not when the crinkles near his eyes appeared again, not when they were in such a good place.

“Okay.”

-/-

They hadn’t been in this place for long. It had taken a lot of talking and arguing and reasoning to get there. A lot of hurting and painful introspective. But it had been for the best and so she’d endured it. He had too. Because they thought it was worth it.

And honestly, it was worth every tear that had been shed, every long silence that had taken place.

What she got in return was more than anything she could’ve hoped for.

-/-

“Doesn’t it bother you that he’s still free?”

Killian looked up from his book, his brow instantly furrowing. He didn’t need more to know who she was talking about; they hadn’t mentioned his name in weeks, hadn’t encountered him in the time of peace they’d received.

But it had been nagging Emma. He was still out there and as much as they could try and ignore his existence, he still roamed around London being his psychopath self.

Something she struggled with. Call it a savior complex but it felt unfair to have been such a big part of his malfeasance and not prevent others from his wrath and psychotic behavior.

Killian put his book aside and wrapped his arms around Emma’s ankles, pulling her closer to him on the couch.

“This again?”

She sat up and leveled her eyes with him.

“I know you don’t like to talk about it but it has to bother you as much as it bothers me. What happened to try and prove his guilt?”

“I found things that are more important.” His hand brushed over her cheek, the warmth of his hand conveying tenderness along Emma’s skin.

She leaned into his touch, the sudden emotion creeping up her throat. It wasn’t unusual for him to express affection, show how much he cared for her but it still affected her. She wasn’t used to being that adored. And then there was something else.

She hadn’t said I love you yet.

She wanted to say I love you almost every moment she spent with him. But it got stuck on the tip of her tongue every single time.

“I get that but what if he sends his minion to hurt you again? Or other people. What if he goes for Anna or Elsa? I just don’t like that he’s out there, Killian.”

He sighed while averting his eyes from her, placing his chin on her knees. He had to know she was right. She was also pretty certain he felt the same way. His good form was ingrained into him, a crucial part of who he was. He’d want to do the right thing.

Emma placed her hand on his cheek and gently turned his face to her again. In a sad way, her lips curled.

They had to do the right thing.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, the sadness reaching him too.

“Maybe try taking another route? A more legal one this time?” She cocked her head in suggestion.

“We would have to find someone to help us legally, but Gold has people everywhere. They cannot be one of Gold's puppets.”

“I might know someone.”

Might was a wrong word. She knew the perfect someone.

-/-

“Did you ever tell me he went to law school?”

An ambulance raced passed them as they walked on the street, synchronized steps sounding against the concrete. It wasn’t far, only two blocks, but Killian had still grabbed her hand to walk the way.

Emma swung their linked hands.

“I might’ve? I don’t remember.” She shrugged. She’d never thought Samir being a lawyer would be something she’d need but here they were: on their way to his shop.

“And he works in a shop?”

Emma checked the street for incoming cars before quickly crossing and pulling Killian along.

“It’s his dad’s,” she explained. “There’s a whole story behind it, I’m sure.”

“Well, I believe you.”

“Why thank you, Jones, for that assurance.”

He winked in response, eliciting a smile on Emma’s face.

The shop appeared from behind the corner and she smiled. It had been a while since she’d seen Samir, fewer midnight snacks and drinks that needed to be bought recently. Maybe his theory about being a not so happy single was correct.

This was also the first time Samir and Killian would meet and she was looking forward to it. Her favorite people in this city had to meet at some point, and even if this visit wasn’t just for pleasure, it still meant something.

The door opened, the bell rang and they were inside.

The store was empty but not for long as Samir emerged from the back, a pack of what looked like cereal in his hands and blocked his view.

“I’ll be right with you!”

“Take your time, Samir,” she reassured.

As he walked to the cereal rack, back facing them, Samir spoke again: “Is that my favorite customer I hear?”

She laughed.

“It might be.”

“I hope it’s her. My sales have been suffering since she decided to disappear more and more,” Samir replied, still not turned to them.

Emma and Killian looked at each other, both raising their eyebrows with a smile.

Finally, Samir finished putting the boxes away and approached them, a smile directed towards Emma and a curious glance towards Killian and their entwined hands.

“Hi,” she finally greeted her friend properly.

“Hello,” he replied.

Killian patiently waited in silence until Emma introduced the two of them to each other.

“Samir, this is Killian,” she began. “Killian, this is Samir.”

“Nice to meet you, mate.” Killian released her hand and reached for Samir’s outstretched one, the men sharing a quick but genuine shake. “Emma has told me a lot about you.”

“You too, mate.” He nodded. “What brings you to my humble shop?”

Emma took a step forwards.

“Remember when we first talked and I told you that if I ever needed a lawyer, I’d call you?” She gave him a second to recall the memory before she continued. “The moment has come.”

Samir did not seem surprised or taken aback at all. Instead, a fire lit up his dark brown eyes as something Emma couldn’t describe as anything other than determination appeared.

“You’re taking him down?” he asked, looking at the both of them for an answer.

She sought Killian’s eyes, wanted to be sure that they were both one hundred percent sure of the path they were going to go down. When she found them, Emma knew that this was what they were doing, even if it was the last thing they did.

“We are,” she replied, the same determination that could be found in Samir’s eyes now in her voice. “If you’re up for it.”

“Rocky Road.” Samir smiled. “I’d thought you’d never ask.”

-/-

They spent hours, days, weeks searching. Searching for the smallest lead or detail that was off.  Soon they realized it was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

And it was fucking frustrating.

How could Gold never once have made a misstep? How was that even possible? All humans make a mistake at some point, so why didn’t he?

Samir couldn’t do a lot if they had nothing to go off. He couldn’t think of a charge without proof, couldn’t magically make an accusation appear out of thin air.

Killian tried using the things he’d gathered before but the tidbits of information were mostly outdated and incorrect.

Emma… well she got more frustrated by the minute and wasn’t as useful to the investigation as her companions.

It was so unfair. On paper, this man was a saint.  Donations to nonprofits, he tipped fairly, he even recycled. You name it and The Honorable Mr. Gold had most likely done it.

Which, again, was fucking frustrating.

Emma grunted, throwing one of their folders on Killian’s coffee table. She let her head drop into her hands, momentarily sick of reading and reading, processing information without discovering anything valuable, anything useful for the case they were trying to build.

A case that was currently non-existent because of said shortage of information.

She sighed against her palms and closed her eyes. An empty nothing was better than going back to the file, with information being catapulted at her.

A headache was forming between her temples and so she stayed like that, hands half-buried in her hair and forehead leaning against her palms.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed her shoulder.

“Oh god!” She jumped and placed her hand over her heart as she saw who the culprit was. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Killian stood next to her with an apologetic grimace on his lips and a plastic bag in his hand.

“Apologies, love. I did announce I was home,” he defended himself, not to take the blame off of himself but to tell her it wasn’t on purpose.

“It’s fine. It’s my fault, I wasn’t paying attention.” She got up and quickly kissed his mouth in way of greeting.

A delicious smell wafted upwards and reached her nose, making her stomach growl. She’d forgotten to eat. Again.

“You bought Chinese?”

He’d told her that he wasn’t the biggest fan of Chinese food and that he ate it maybe once every three years (and that was a broad estimate) So every time he came home with takeout, she knew he did it for her. Because she loved it almost as much as he didn’t like it. Because he’d thought of her while walking past the Chinese restaurant and wanted to make her happy.

She should really tell him she loved him.

“I was in the mood for some spring rolls,” Killian shrugged.

Emma wasn’t falling for his act and stepped back into his personal space, lips searching his again, this time for more than just a peck.

They broke apart, their chests heaving ever so slightly as they both came up for air.

“I should best put this on the table,” he said, his hand lifting the bag of Chinese food again.

Tell him.

Tell him.

Emma, tell him.

“Killian?” she blurted out, her mouth acting before her mind could reconsider.

“Aye?” He turned to her with expectant eyes which definitely didn’t help with the stress that was tormenting her body right now.

Emma took a deep breath, thanks to their earlier tiny make out session, she could attribute her breathlessness to that and not to the source of her fast-beating heart and sweaty palms.

“I love you,” she said and she felt lighter instantaneously. “I thought you should know that.”

Killian left the Chinese food for what it was and strode towards her, only three big strides before he reached her, touched her, kissed her.

She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he echoed the words, whispered them against her slightly swollen lips. “I thought you should know that too.”

Laughter bubbled out of Emma with the complete happiness and tranquility she finally felt, and of that earlier frustration, there was nothing left.

-/-

“Honestly, I think it’s bollocks. He must’ve paid someone to clear his records. No one is this clean,” Samir mumbled through his full mouth of spaghetti.

Emma sipped from her glass of water and set it back down on the table before taking another bite of her own food.

Quite early on, they discovered that once the three of them—Emma, Killian, and Samir—got together to discuss their plans, it usually turned into just friends hanging out for a while as they all got along extremely well. Emma had honestly been afraid that her friend and her boyfriend wouldn’t get along at first but now, they sometimes got along too well. They had a serious bromance going on and she wouldn’t say she was jealous but she wouldn’t mind if they got along slightly less either. So they went from random meetings in the middle of the day to actual planned dinner evenings for a perfect mix of business and casual.

So that was why Samir was now stuffing his face with Killian’s divine spaghetti and commenting on how he thought the situation was bullshit.

Which Emma agreed with one hundred percent.

“I know, mate, but we have nothing else to go on,” Killian reacted.

“Have we covered all bases?” Samir asked again, but they had. “Youth? Career? Family? Anything we could’ve missed?”

Killian shook his dark locks in a negative answer.

“Milah told me he had no family to speak of so that’s a dead end.”

Emma froze, her eyes popping open as she dropped her fork on the table.

Gold’s brother.

“What did you say, Swan?” Killian frowned as Emma had apparently not only thought it but had actually spoken it out loud.

She cleared her throat before repeating what she had just come to realize. “Gold has a brother.”

“A brother?” Both Killian and Samir said in unison—there was that bromance she was speaking of.

She turned to Killian and grabbed a hold of his prosthetic.

“The guy that attacked the both of us, his name is Malcolm Gold.”

“How do you know that?” he asked.

She knew it because Malcolm’s ego got hurt and he wanted to boast about his powerful name to scare her even more.

"He told me. He might be lying but there is a similarity between the two that makes me think he was telling the truth and that they are brothers."

She got up, not waiting for any type of reaction from the both of them, not having the patience to wait for them to collect their thoughts on the information she’d just handed them.

Emma had already wasted enough time by not thinking of a lead she had had all along, from way before they had decided to try and take Gold down together. She didn’t have the time to be angry with herself right now, that would come later, now she needed to grab her computer as quickly possible.

Faster than ever before, she typed in her password and pulled up some of the online tools she’d often use while researching one of her cases. ‘Malcolm Gold’ she typed in and fervently asked Zeus, the universe, to give her this one thing, to give her something to work with.

“And?” Killian asked, still seated at the table, seemingly understanding what she was attempting to do.

She looked up from the bright computer screen and smirked at her team.

“It seems our dear Malcolm isn’t as good in hiding his tracks as his baby brother is.”

-/-

Malcolm Gold was, as Emma discovered, a man of many facets. One of them being an arsonist, another one of them being a notorious drug dealer who was the supplier of a variation of cocaine called Fairy Dust.

Not the most positive of reputations. And yet, somehow, he had spent a grand total of thirty-one hours in jail.

And there it was.

A lead.

After Emma’s discovery, it was all hands on deck; it was countless all-nighters with coffee as their only fuel. It was reading and more reading until their eyeballs went dry.

It took so much but they’d done it.

She was about ready to cry when Samir told her the news.

They had an airtight case. Gold was guilty of blackmail, extortion and the fabrication and distribution of narcotics.

And the son of a bitch was going to jail for it.

-/-

They stood in the parking lot of the courthouse, Emma and Killian leaning against Killian’s Toyota and talking in low voices in case someone overheard them. This was a big moment, something they’d worked towards for months, but Emma couldn’t stop shaking.

Months of work were depending on this. Innocent lives were depending on this. Her sanity in general was depending on this. So, it was safe to say that the stakes were pretty damn high.

From across the parking lot, she saw Samir appear, dressed in a dark suit that made him look way older than his young twenty-four years. She had total faith in him, however. He was relentless and thorough. And he was her friend.

“Hello,” he greeted them and they smiled in response.

“You’re sure you don’t want to come inside too?” Samir asked.

She looked at Killian and saw the exact same answer in his eyes. They didn’t want to face him again, not after all he had done and attempted to do. The man was a maniac and the less time they had to spend in his company, the better.

“No, Samir,” Killian said in her stead. Her hands weren’t the only thing that was shaking. “This is all you. We believe in you and we want to thank you for all that you’ve done for us. You’re a true friend.” He clasped his shoulder before going for a hug.

“What about you, Rocky Road?” Samir said as he turned to her. “Will you be alright?”

“Of course,” she finally spoke, managing the tiniest smile. “I trust you completely.” Emma looked him in the eye, reassured when she saw the embers burn in his eyes. “Go destroy him.”

Samir smiled at her and nodded sternly before giving her a hug as well. “For what he did to you,” he whispered as his arms were around her, “–gladly.”

Gold was not prepared for the fury he was about to meet.

“If it’s alright with you, mate, I’m taking Emma home,” Killian said and Emma looked at him in confusion. That wasn’t what they had planned.

Before she could question it, he silently grabbed her hand and squeezed and while she didn’t exactly fully understand what he was saying, she understood enough to not disagree. He really wanted to take her home, so she’d let him. There wasn’t a lot she could do on a courthouse parking lot, either way.

“Fine by me,” Samir replied, “I’ll call you with the verdict.”

Emma was curious about what Killian’s plans were once they got home but he simply took off his jacket as they entered the apartment, toed off his shoes, motioned her to take off her own and led her to the couch once she had. He settled into it and opened his arms to welcome her, an invitation she’d glady–always– accept.

For the time they lay on the couch, there was only Killian and nothing else. No sorrow or fear, only love and warmth. Her hands finally stopped trembling.

In the peace of the purest tranquility, she fell asleep surrounded by him. His heartbeat under her head, his scent in her nose, his legs tangled with hers.

It must’ve been hours later when she woke up, her body still glued to his but the light entering through the window completely different from when they had first gotten comfortable in the sofa. Cranking her eyes open, she looked up and found Killian looking at her with soft eyes, hand smoothing over some unruly blonde hair. He bowed his head and tenderly pressed his lips to her hair.

“We won.”

She sought his eyes and saw the honesty and contentment that lovely shade of blue emitted. Emma didn’t reply to his statement, not in words anyway. She just tightened her arms around him even more and kissed his collarbone before closing her eyes and feeling yet another kiss on her skin, this time on her forehead.

And at last, the mist of grey had lifted and left just the tiniest sparkle of brightness.

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

And that's it. Our bbis get a happy ending and all was well. I'd like to thank you all for coming onto this ride with me and staying loyal fans as the fic progressed. I'd like to thank everyone who left a comment, a like, fun tags, a kudos. While writing the chapters, I sometimes thought "but what if no one likes this fic I've been working on for months", but the response has been incredible so thank you, thank you, thank you! I hope you enjoyed the ride and I hope you have a lovely 2019. Bye!

[kyaada]

Marketing Belly Master Bait

by kyaada

Ever since Barrett started working at Chunk’s in the mall, he’d developed a bit of a cult following.  Barrett’s collection of too-tight tee shirts never failed to highlight every succulent bump and bulge, and the tops combined with packed skinny jeans never failed to impress.  Barrett had the most amazing pair of bubbled buns sitting atop mature tree trunk-sized thighs, finished off with meaty calf muscles.  Of course, his immaculate fade and neatly trimmed beard gave him a timeless look of masculinity to his handsome features, deep blue eyes, and pearly white smile.  When Chunk’s manager realized what a draw his recently hired ex-military muscled hunk had become, he immediately put him in the window-- so to speak.

After Barrett had finished his main tasks, the manager would set him up in a front table alongside the main walkway with one of the biggest sandwiches.  Chunk’s was known for their huge stacked sandwiches and fresh breads, warning patrons that they may need to loosen their belts to finish one of the enormous two-handed sammies.  The live eating demo was effective in drawing in a variety of customers.  At the beginning of the sandwich, lady shoppers would file in to gawk at the handsome young stud while they’d split their lunch and still take half home.  Near the end of the sandwich,  Barrett would slow down a bit and labor as his stomach filled to the top.  His tight tee shirt couldn’t hide his brawny tight bulge, and he’d just lazily lean back in his chair, giving up the thought of sucking it in.  The post-sandwich advertisement would draw in the fat hungry dudes looking for a nice full gut, and Barrett would inspect them like cattle as they’d pile in for a good feeding.  

A couple of months passed, and Barrett couldn’t help but notice how difficult it had become to squeeze into this hot jeans, much less get them buttoned.  The big 6’2” ex-military hunk would stand in front of his bathroom mirror rotating around to inspect his budding love handles and protruding belly, still flexing his biceps to validate his manliness.  Barrett would grope each of his pecs with satisfaction, causing each of his nipples to poke out against his tighter tee shirt.

One day, Barrett went into work to find that his manager had decided to double his demo time by having him eat two of the smaller sandwiches, which together summed up to about one and a half of the biggest ones he’d been regularly devouring.  Initially, Barrett wasn’t too sure about the idea since he’d already fought especially hard with his top jeans button that morning.  The manager upped the ante with two extra-special sandwiches for him, and Barrett happily gorged himself on the thick and meaty deli treats.  The manager didn’t want him to have Barrett leave his feeding station for anything, so he brought him several Coke refills to keep washing down seemingly endless sandwich.  The manager even brought him a couple of their popular side salads because the big beefer was getting so swollen.

Business was especially good that day late in that lunch rush as lustful fat guys lined up for large sandwiches, drawn in by the potbellied poster boy in front.  Barrett just sat there like a god with his thick thighs pushed apart, shoulders back, and his stretched-taut belly bulging out from his marbled beefy pecs to his excruciatingly tight jeans waistband.  Barrett applied both of his hands to his blown-up round belly and alternated pushing in with rubbing on each side of the prominent bulge. The big overfed stud breathed shallowly due to how much room his stomach was taking away from his lungs, and he managed a few choice belches that brought in some more wide-eyed guys.  Chunk’s manager came out from the back after adjusting his impossibly hard dick in his jeans and approached his prime Grade-A beefball that adorned the front of his restaurant.

Barrett rested his hands on his thighs as the manager came up to him, showing off how the sublimely tight well-worn cotton hugged every bump and bulge, and perfectly outlined his plump belly button. Barrett tilted his head back and looked his manager in the eyes, “Oh my God...I’m so ff-ff-uu-uu-ll-ll-ll-ll.”  The manager smirked as he reached down to push around on Barrett’s big bloated belly.  Engorged Barrett emitted a combination of grunts and belches, unable to tighten his long-softened abs enough to protect his pregnant belly against the directed pokes and musical thumping.  “Sorry, Barrett, we have those new Chunk-y S’Mores Cookies and we need to push ‘em.  That means, we’re gonna have to push this stomach of yours a little bit more.”

Barrett’s eyes somewhat crossed as he processed the latest directive.  “I dunno.  I think ...” Barrett paused to let out a really big burp, “I think I might explode.”

“Nah,” said the manager, “a big strong guy like you? Pfft. That strong table muscle of yours will just s-t-r-e-t-c-h to accommodate extra loading.  The worst thing that might happen is that you’ll have to pop that top jeans button.”

“Okay, alright, well, let me get ‘em.” Barrett insisted, scooting his chair back with an obvious noise.  Spreading his thighs apart and dropping his hard gut through the open space, Barrett placed his hands on the tops of his legs to push himself upright.  It was no small amount of effort lifting his bulk off of the chair, but once he succeeded he had the attention of most of the diners in the seating area.  Barrett’s belly was bloated out in a circle in front of him, and the ultra-taut waistband of his ridiculously stuffed jeans was scrunched down to a fraction of its height.  Just south of the hefty gut was another bulge that eagerly pushed against the low-rise zipper. The manager followed the wobbling stuffed stud, smiling at all of the attentive chewing faces.  It was so difficult not to fixate on Barrett’s widened back and his stout bubble butt, and the manager fought hard not to just slap his fat ass.  

Once Barrett was standing, he realized that it was going to be harder than hell to sit back down and continue to eat, so he compromised with the manager to stand at the end of the counter by the register to stuff in his melty delicious cookies.  Capturing the attention of a very hefty daddy type in line waiting for his giant sandwich to be made, Barrett smiled at him and stretched his thick arms up in the air.  The hem of his overburdened tee shirt inched slowly up the sphere like a curtain rising on a stage as it bared the divine appearance of Barrett’s thick treasure trail and his perfectly shaped deep belly button.  The round-gutted daddy ventured closer to the register after being served his thick sandwich and dessert cookies, still captivated with the sight of Barrett’s bare crescent of belly and naughty zipper that had started to escape down its track.  

“Well, these sure looked good so I had to have some,” said the fattened daddy, winking at the manager, who stood beaming behind the extra full Barrett.  “After all, I gotta keep up my figure.  The food is always so  damn good and filling here-- I never know when to stop!”  The fattened daddy finished signing his credit card receipt and poked the capped end of the pen into the side of Barrett’s thoroughly pumped lunchball. “Looks like I’m not the only one, guy.”

Barrett chuckled as he ran his meaty hand across his swollen gut, “yup, the hazards of the job, I’m afraid.  You just gotta remember to stop before you pop!”

The manager put his hand on the big stud’s shoulder, “tell you what, why don’t you go have a seat with this nice gentleman while he enjoys his lunch, and I’ll make you one of our Gut Topper Cake Shakes.  Deal?”

“Gut Topper? Well, today, it might just become a Gut Popper...but okay.  Load me up...”

The two guys headed off for a table in the back of the seating area near the kitchen. The fat daddy couldn’t wait to start pushing food down his gullet, so he plopped his big butt down and started shoveling.  Barrett towered next to the table for a moment deep in thought, then reached under his enormous belly bulge to fight with his jeans button.  “Dude, I’m sorry, but these things are cutting me in half.”  The fat daddy’s cheeks bulged with food as he witnessed Barrett’s abdominal muscle contortions caused by the stuffed stud’s efforts to suck in the protuberant swell, but finally Barrett was able to pop open the top and breathe a little.

“Ooofff,” sighed Barrett, giving his rounded midsection an invigorating rub. Barrett held on to his zipper as he sat to make sure that the open “V” of his jeans didn’t spread too wide in a family restaurant.

“I couldn’t help but notice those jeans were pretty much painted on ya, big guy,” remarked the fat daddy.

“Yup, I’ve gained a few pounds since I started working at Chunk’s.  The manager feeds me up daily.”

“Daily feedings? You might want to get some pants with an elastic waistband so you can expand in comfort.”

Barrett hovered down and planted his meaty bubbles in the chair directly across from the fat daddy, pretty much looking like a leaned-back, very-pregnant Buddha.  

“Well, I know what that’s like to plan ahead for such things,” said the fat daddy, “my wife has been overfeeding me for years.”  He leaned back and thumped his obvious gut bulge, “can’t say that I mind too much, after all, I love food.” The fat daddy’s eyes cruised over the topography of Barrett’s tight tee shirt.  “I used to look like you when we first started dating, well, you about 50 pounds ago and before you stuffed your gut today.”

Barrett chuckled again, his facial expression slowly turning into concentration as he tried to do arithmetic in his head. “...and you’re not as tall as I am.  If you don’t mind me asking, how much do you weigh?”

“By the way, my name’s Josh.”  Both had to spread their thighs apart to make room for their bellies so that they could lean in to shake hands. “I don’t mind you asking me how much I weigh-- in fact, I just got my 300 pound ribbon at Recipe Club.”

“Recipe Club?”

“It’s something my wife got us into.  Just a small group started by women who love to cook or are learning how to cook, and they invite their guys to join them to enjoy their rather prolific production.”

“...and you got a ribbon?”

“Yeah, I guess it’s the opposite of what Weight Watchers rewards, but we watch our weight as well.  Watch it increase!”  Josh giggled. “Needless to say, the guys get more ribbons faster during the holidays.  We have to weigh in when we get there, and some of us weigh again as we’re leaving... just for fun.”

“What a trip!”

“...speaking of trips, we just took the kids through Vegas and then on a Disney cruise, and I can’t believe the amount of food.”  Josh continued through frequent large bites of sandwich, “it was like the ideal glutton vacation... I was powerless amongst all those buffets and high-calorie foods! My belly was so damn big and tight at the end of each night that you could have rolled me to our room. Roll... Burp... Roll... Burp...”

As Barrett was drawn in to the imagery of Recipe Club and Josh’s trip of unrestrained gorging, he wondered about the timing of certain things.  “So, when did you go from DadBod to DadBalloon?”

Josh got a good laugh out of the pointed question.  “Kid number two.”

As they were both still cracked up over Josh being fattened up, Chunk’s manager appeared with a large frosty cup and a funnel.  “Okay, Barrett, tilt and open!”

Josh smiled broadly as he detected Barrett’s newness to the concept, though he suspected that he must have beer bonged a little during some wild parties.  Barrett wrapped his full lips around the bottom of the funnel opening and the manager pushed it a little farther down into his mouth once he felt his lips tighten up to steady.  As he poured the giant vanilla cake shake slowly into the funnel, he was careful not to spill a drop.  Barrett’s eyes widened and he put his hand on top of his again-swelling belly.  Josh stuffed his face as he watched the bottom of Barrett’s rib cage rise as his bloatation device deployed fully.  One of the cooks was returning from his break and stopped by the filling station to put his hand on top of Barrett’s solid round protruding stomach ledge, “wow, it’s a Gut Topper!  Barrett-- you’re gettin’ to be a whopper!”  The cook couldn’t resist giving Barrett’s barrel a parting slap to hear him grunt.

Barrett’s breathing was getting quite labored towards the end of the giant shake, and his nipples were practically shooting through his ultra-taut tee shirt.  The advanced size of the Barrett’s fattened belly coaxed the hem up again to bare succulent skin and dark-colored fur.

Josh nearly choked shoving food into his mouth at such a high rate of speed, but he got down his enormous sandwich just as the manager finished loading Barrett’s firm round Buddha gut.  The manager lifted the funnel out of Barrett’s O-shaped mouth as the dangerously overfull stud licked shake remnants off of his lips and continued to swallow the rest down his gullet.  Barrett just had to sit there with his hands down his sides, feeling that his beefy pecs were about to bump him in the chin at any moment.  The manager nodded his head and reached down to thump the mighty round bellyful.  The combination of thick muscle walls, a nice layer of fat, and a thoroughly packed digestive tract made the most sublime of deep satisfied sounds.  

“Good God, that melon is ripe.” Josh critiqued, leaning back to rest his hand on top of his big sandwich lunch. “And Barrett bared it-- that shirt is too small for ya, big buddy!”

Barrett’s smile curled onto his lips with a bit of a delay caused by his food coma.  After the manager left, Barrett put his hands on his overblown balloon and rubbed.  

“Man, you look like how I felt after the 24 hour buffet pass in Las Vegas.  You know, I knew that it was going to be a bad thing-- I could tell when I walked in the first place and saw all of the groaning, belching guys.  They looked like fully engorged ticks about to pop. Well, that was me a day later because we just kept going back for more and more and more.  My lovely bride overate, my daughter got bored, but my son found his groove.   I was laughing at him little at breakfast because he’s got a weakness for waffles, pancakes, pastries, and bacon.”  Josh laughed as he listened to Barrett wheeze with his eyes half-closed; Barrett’s fully distended gut had swollen even more with the cake shake, pushing him farther back against his chair.  “Of course, he got me back later in the day after second dinner.  We were back in the room, and I was bloated out on the floor next to the couch while we were all watching a movie.  Ever since I read him “Hop on Pop” when he was a kid, he’s wanted to bounce on my belly-- especially after I eat too much. He thinks it’s really funny.”

Suddenly, Barrett emitted a lengthy bass-toned belch, causing both of them to laugh heartily.  Barrett patted his thoroughly round belly and flexed his pecs.  “I’m pretty sure that if anyone hopped on me right now, I’d pop for sure!”

Josh munched on his cookies and agreed.  “You could bounce a quarter off of that gut right now, Barrett.  You remind me of some of those big bloated-up young guys on the cruise ship.  Poppin’ Fresh Pillsbury Doughboys gorging their way to tight-skinned ecstasy, unbuckling their belts and stuffing themselves like Thanksgiving turkeys.  I would think ‘damn, I hope we don’t hit a rock and end up shipwrecked on some island full of hungry cannibals’” Josh said as he finished the last bite of his marshmallowy chocolatey gooey cookies.

“Ooof, a stuffed Thanksgiving turkey-- that’s how I feel at the moment,” Barrett admitted as he gave his stout round belly another rubbing.

“And look,” Josh said, supporting the astute observation. “Just squeeze you in between some big bowls of mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and sit a pumpkin pie on top of your belly ledge for dessert.”

Josh glanced at his watch and realized that he was late to get back to work.  “Guess I better get my fat ass in gear.”  Josh hoisted himself up, satisfied with the extra-large lunch and conversation, brushing past Barrett just as he took that moment to stretch his arms up in the air.  Josh paused to smack a couple deep-seated belches out of Barrett.  “Keep eatin’, big guy, keep rollin’ down that path to the big 3-0-0... but keep an eye out for cannibals!”

~.~

Many weeks passed, and Barrett’s allure changed somewhat to the ladies who lunched at Chunk’s.  It seemed that the amount of weight he’d gained was difficult for some of them to accept; after all, he’d plumped by forty pounds in a relatively short time after significantly long lunchtime stuffings.  Barrett still presented as quite beefy with one foot still in the gym, but there was no denying his big round belly and widened booty that mercilessly stuffed his shrinking wardrobe.  His handsome face had filled out accordingly and he had the start of a second chin hidden under his fuller beard; regardless, his piercing blue eyes and immaculate grooming still caused heads to pivot.  Josh the 300+ pound daddy continued to come in once a week to stuff himself with sandwich, and Barrett always treated him to at least one Gut Topper.  Josh would especially enjoy the belly blowout when Barrett personally funneled the extra creamy cake shake down his gullet.

Awhile back, the manager had hired a new cook when Chunk’s had added pizza to their calorie-driven menu.  Barrett had recognized the guy immediately from high school, although Peter’s 5’11” frame had filled out some since those earlier days.  Peter had been a swimmer all during high school and was always pretty wide-shouldered and lanky, which changed through his college experience in the dining halls.  Of course, Peter recognized Barrett right away as well, and would tease him about how fat he’d become.  Barrett would always comment right back about Peter’s modest college weight gain.  Chunk’s cooks wore nice pullover shirts that bore the restaurant’s logo on the left breast, and Peter’s shirt was always a little pizza sauce-splattered and tight.  Peter’s pudgy round belly pooched out over his Dockers taut waistbands, and no one could miss his pasta butt that stressed the seam in the back.

The two former schoolmates never really talked much in school, but they developed a friendly, yet somewhat tense, rivalry at work.  Peter was slightly jealous with the fact that Barrett got away with hardly working and mostly just eating while he sat on his constantly widening ass.  The manager had added pizza to Barrett’s daily demonstration, and Peter was usually the one that made the pie.  Peter would deliberately pile on additional toppings, knowing that Barrett would have to stuff the slices down on top of his torturously large sandwich and sides.

After a month of silent warfare, both Barrett and Peter had packed on weight.  Barrett was undeniably impressed with Peter’s bloat capacity and how much the littler guy could stomach in one stretching session.  Peter, who loved the fact that his packed pizzas were adding to both Barrett’s bottom and front lines, immensely enjoyed the big stud’s trips in to the kitchen to moan about his overloaded gut. Barrett was supposed to sweep around the kitchen after his lunch demonstration, and he’d invariably be as close as possible to Peter so that he could bump him with his solid gutsphere.  Barrett would belch in Peter’s general direction to egg him on, and soon Peter would march on up to the 6’2” beefster and playfully threaten to punch his big ol’ gut.  Barrett would push his belly out even more and tell Peter to give it his best shot.  The manager would always intercede in time saying “Don’t pop him! Barrett has to work tomorrow!”

Time bulged on, and the manager had to bring in a scale due to rising concerns about their Frontline Eater position, of which Barrett had done such an incredible job filling.  “Boy, are you ever fat now,” the manager told Barrett as he processed the number on the scale’s display, “three hundred and twenty pounds. I’m afraid that we’re going to move you to back of house for awhile-- put the big beefer out to pasture, so to speak.  Your gluttonous performances are still bringing in the fat guys, but the average group of ladies who lunch seem to think you’ve gotten too fat for them to fantasize about over their porky husbands.”

“Aw, come on!” Barrett spurted out, “I know women still look at me.”

“Well, yeah.  They look at you and think about the big fat growling gut they’re going to have to go home and feed that night.  All the work they’ll go through stuffing their husband’s belly enough so he’ll fall asleep on the couch and not bother them for the rest of the night.”

A vision of his fat daddy friend Josh popped into Barrett’s mind.  “Some women enjoy feeding their hubbies-- in fact, they relish the thought of fattening them up.”  Barrett’s crotch tingled a bit as he remembered Josh’s most recent Chunk’s visit when he owned up to weighing 350 pounds and whispering the most arousing admission in his ear.  Josh had dreamed one night that he’d been stretching his belly for weeks in the hopes of growing it immense enough to hold a stuffed Thanksgiving Barrett.

The manager’s mind was made up, so he put Barrett next to Peter in the kitchen so that they could work out any issues the two had while Barrett shed a few pounds.  The days went by with the two reminiscing about the old days and pretty much making a buffet of the prep tables.  It was on a Friday when Peter offered one particularly compelling memory.

“You remember that time at the school assembly when three of you guys on the football team had a pizza eating contest in front of the whole school?”  Peter asked.

“Oh yeah.  My gut ached the rest of the afternoon,” Barrett confessed.

“Oh damn... well, you won....and you ate the entire pizza,” Peter recalled.  “You had the biggest fucking belly that day...”

“I remember that.”  Barrett smiled, “after school, I was sprawled out on the grass in Senior Square warning guys not to step on my belly.”

“You were wearing this really tight orange pullover shirt and I thought your belly looked like a big pumpkin.”  As Peter shared his thoughts, Barrett chuckled and patted his much fatter, bigger belly.  “I had like ten dollars and I wanted to take you to McDonald’s and get you whatever you wanted.”

“You did? Huh...” Barrett thought for a moment.  “Guess that would have made you ‘Peter Peter Pumpkin Feeder’ in a way...” Barrett thought for another moment, “wait... that’s why you would makin’ my pizzas so big! You’ve been fattening me up on purpose!”

Peter slapped Barrett in his big ol’ belly.  “Well, truth be told, you were already amply fattened when I started here... nicely marbled beef... I just wanted you to get a little fatter.”  

“A little fatter? Well, I’m 320 pounds now.” Barrett stated, bumping his firm round gut into Peter’s fat belly.  “Feel the size of this beast now!”

“My guess is that this beast needs to be fed,” Peter said, grabbing on to each side of the studly gut being pushed into him.  “I’ve got ten dollars for McDonald’s after work...”

Somehow, Peter and Barrett kept their minds on finishing their shifts at Chunk’s, and agreed to meet at the nearest McDonald’s at six o’clock.  Peter decided to keep his work clothes on, despite the fact that he smelled like an overweight pizza.  Since he’d gone ahead and eaten his free work meal, his Dockers were exceptionally tight despite the fact that they were pushed down far below his fat belly.  Barrett had gone home and rifled through a few drawers to find that famous orange pullover shirt from high school, only to find that he nearly ripped it getting it over his much more developed chest and arms, and the old top was no match for his very ample belly.  The shirt couldn’t reach to cover his wide love handles and the hem created a crisp line around his big manly gut above his dreamily deep belly button.  He had one last pair of jeans that he put forth his best effort to button, and walked out of the house looking like a giant overstuffed sausage.

Barrett walked in to the McDonald’s and immediately felt eyes gluing to his bared belly; among other sets, one set of eyes belonged to Peter, and another set belonged to Josh-- Barrett’s fat daddy friend from Chunk’s.  Josh’s hefty wife turned her head to see who her chubby hubby was gawking at and seemed suitably impressed.  Peter stood up, shifted his boner, and walked over to meet the vision in orange that wobbled his way closer.  

“How about that-- that shirt fits differently than it did in high school, Barrett!”  

“Just a little bit. I’m a few pounds heavier now.”  

Both of them strolled up to the counter together, each enjoying the reaction of the chubby young counter dude whose mouth dropped open in response the audacity of Barrett’s attire.

“What do ya want? My treat.” Barrett offered, rubbing Peter’s shoulder.  

“Oh, it’s my treat, Barrett.”  

“Let’s do this-- I’ll get you what I want you to eat, and you can do the same for me.  How about that?”

Soon enough, the two Chunk’s employees had decided on a booth across from where Josh and his wife still sat eating.  Before taking a seat, Barrett and Peter said hello to the oversized married couple, carefully noting the pile of empty boxes and wrappers in front of Josh.  Even though it was one of the booths made larger to more easily accommodate fat people, Josh was obviously stuck.  The table’s edge butted firmly against his enormous round belly, and the portion above table level bulged onto the surface an inch.  Josh’s ribs were shoved up and back around the bloated stomach, and it was as hard for him to speak as it was to breathe.

“Josh, I do believe that you’ve been fed into place!” Barrett said.

“Indeed he has,” came the voice from across the table. “We’re stretching his belly all day today-- kids are at their grandparents.  There’s a young pup at Recipe Club that’s about to get his 360 pound ribbon and Josh has got to keep up! You must be Barrel-- I mean, Barrett,” she said, looking at the tall stud’s ample belly.  

Barrett chuckled. “Yes, that’s me, Barrett. And I guess I do resemble a food barrel these days.”  He shook her hand and introduced Peter.  “Well, well, Josh.  Just look at this huge belly wedged in this booth...”   Barrett gently poked around on the top of Josh’s overstuffed belly.

“Careful, now... don’t poke too hard.  You’ll pop the pig! He’s been eating all day to stretch his belly for an upcoming Vegas trip.  I mean, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about that 24 hour buffet pass and wants to go for a three day gorging weekend.”

“Haven’t been able to get enough to eat today, boys,” Josh wheezed.  

“That can definitely be a problem,” Peter observed with an unmistakably evil smile on his face.

Barrett thumped Josh’s enormous gut and said, “keep on stuffing, Josh-- Thanksgiving is comin’ and you’re either going to eat or be eaten!”  Reaching over to his serving tray, Barrett grabbed a Quarter Pounder box and sat it on top of Josh’s solid ball of food.

Two McDonald’s employees, including the chubby guy poured into his uniform, brought two trays each over to where Barrett and Peter had chosen to plant their numbered sign.  Without much more conversation, the two guys got down to business and began stuffing themselves.  Josh sat and belched while he digested, watching with great interest as Barrett and Peter blew up in size.  Their enthusiasm for gorging was amazing to watch.  It was no surprise that they finished all of that food and four soda refills only to look at each other and say “More!”

Josh’s wife took his wallet up to the counter and surprised Barrett and Peter with another round of Big Macs, Quarter Pounders, fries, and Chicken McNuggets.  Peter’s incredible ability to bloat up into a round ball raised eyebrows near and far in the restaurant.  His Chunk’s uniform shirt’s hem inched up the stuffed belly ball, and his Dockers launched into space as he heaved a satisfied sigh.

“Your belly is gettin’ big,” Barrett said to his rotund dinner mate.

“Well, look who’s talking,” plump-bellied Peter turned around on the overstuffed stud.  “It’s like someone connected that pumpkin to a tire pump!”

Barrett’s orange pullover had slid up above his packed-taut bloatsphere, exposing the full height of his treasure trail.  Barrett’s belly button, with its fat rounded entry, begged for a chubby finger to explore its warm depths.

“I say we go pick up a box of donuts and go to my place, Peter.”  

The two roundbellied twentysomethings thanked fat daddy Josh and his wife for their generosity and waddled their way out to their trucks.  “Hope you get full enough, Josh!”

“Never!”

Peter picked out the fat pills at the best grocery store bakery in town, making sure to choose an enticing array of all kinds, including extra-filling-fattening cream-filled ones, before speeding on over to Barrett’s address.

“C’mon in if you have donuts...” Barrett teased as he stood there in his ridiculously undersized orange pullover and underwear with a spot of wet pre-cum at the end of his fully lengthened cock.

Peter broke into a sweat from the heat radiating off of the engorged stud, shaking a little as he set two boxes of donuts on the dining room table.  Barrett slapped Peter’s butt that was as yet encased in the seam-stressed Dockers, “damn your ass got fat after high school.”

“I like to eat,” Peter told him turning his head sideways.  

“I can tell.  The pregnant belly was another dead giveaway.” Barrett pulled Peter’s pants down and bent him over the dining room table.  Peter’s stout full belly smacked on the surface like a gargantuan slab of bacon and Barrett watched his sides bow out under the pressure.  Barrett shifted his loaded cock into the upright position and rubbed it back and forth between Peter’s plump buns.  “Fuck that feels good....my gut’s so fucking big that I can’t see what I’m doing, but I can definitely feel the heat from your hole...”

“Jesus, your dick is as big as I always thought it was...” Peter grunted.

“You got me so hot that I’m brimming with cum today... if I pumped your ass right now, I’d shoot a load so fat that your belly would explode.”

“Do it, fat stuff,” Peter begged, “because after you pop my cherry in grand style, I’m gonna feed you every last donut in that box.  You stuff my butt and I’ll bust your gut.”

Nearly breaking the table in the process, Barrett finished the deed, pumping Peter completely full of his seed.

Taking Barrett by the hand and grabbing the box of donuts, Peter led his round target into the bedroom.  Getting situated leaned against the headboard and spreading his legs far apart, Peter motioned for the ballooned stud to lay belly-up on him with his head on his shoulder.  Once Barrett was in place, there was not going to be any moving him for an extended period of time.  Peter’s view around Garrett’s head was of a tall round mountain that wobbled from side to side when the bed shook.  “Will you just look at the size of this fucking tank?!” Peter put his hands on either side of Barrett’s enormously swollen stomach and spread his fingers.  Gently shaking the massive sphere of manflesh, Peter breathed heavily in Barrett’s ear as the heavy stud continued to weigh down on his own achingly full stomach.  “Soldier, you’ve really let yourself go...your punishment is going to be severe... forcefeeding until your greedy belly bursts like an overblown balloon.”

Peter picked through the donuts and began stuffing them into Barrett’s eager maw in rapid succession.  As icing began to collect in the overfed boy’s beard, his tongue worked overtime to get every last bit.  As Barrett was chewing nearly unmanageable mouthfuls, Peter rubbed all over the swelling stomach.  With a whole box of donuts down the gullet, there was a giant mound formed that pushed straight up in the air.  Peter thumped on the top of the donut dome, amazed at how dense it sounded and the volume of belch it quickly produced. Barrett’s advanced gut was easily the size of a beach ball, and Peter was wishing that he had a view far enough away to fully appreciate its fullness.

“Oh God, I’m gonna pop,” Barrett moaned.  

Peter pushed his index finger into the top of Barrett’s solid donut dome and tested it for doneness.  “Nope, you’re not ready yet,” Peter whispered in his 320+ pound stud’s ear and opened the second box.

Engaged in relentless stuffing, Barrett’s gutsphere stretched wider and taller.  Peter spread his fingers as far apart as possible to rub as much belly at once as he could. Barrett’s panic was becoming more evident as his taut, shiny ball maxed out with half of the second box of donuts crammed inside.
 “Okay, Soldier, I’ll spare your gut from certain explosion,” Peter announced.  Barrett responded with an wall-shaking belch.  Squashed a little under the weight of the overfed stud, Peter wriggled his way out and stood at the side of the bed admiring the gigantic beach ball.  The bottom of his enormous gut was as taut as the top, and the roundness bumped against his spread meaty thighs.

Peter slowly made his way on to the bed, throwing his leg over Barrett’s wide body and bouncing his fat butt briefly on the tall mountain of belly. Realizing that he was about to push several donuts right out of Barrett’s mouth, Peter quickly slid down off of the ball gut and landed on his hard-again cock.  Peter was reminded of how full his own belly was as it met fatly against the bottom third of Barrett’s gutsphere.  Peter regained his strength, grabbed a hold of each of Barrett’s meaty pecs and humped his cock against the giant hard belly.  Getting ready to shoot his load, Peter grabbed another donut, plugged Barrett’s furry feedhole with it, and ate up the sight of Barrett���s hungry expression as he spurted cum all over Barrett’s lower bellysphere.

“Feels good to get caught up on lost time, huh?”

[whereisthefood123]

Date @Hargeon

Happy birthday @smartcookie727! Hope you had a wonderful day! This is my bday gift for you and I hope you like it :D first time writing lyredy so I hope I did them some justice haha

Buy cookie a bday ko-fi guys! And if you haven’t checked her writing before, then you need to do it right now because it is fantastic!! Let yourself be consumed by the great writing skills of the queen of smut!

Pairing: Lydery (LyonxMeredy)

Word count: 2k

Rating: K+

Ffnet

Lyon is running late for his date with Meredy

“You gotta be kidding me.” Lyon gritted his teeth in annoyance. The repeating sentence on the screen just fueled his irritation and panic.

All trains to Hargeon have been cancelled for today.

Something about a fire mage destroying the train rails or something, Lyon didn’t care enough to pay attention anymore. The only thing racing through his mind was the idea that he would be late for his date with Meredy.

“Shit.”

Their relationship was complicated enough already without Lyon pulling out things like this. With Meredy needing to constantly hide from the Magic Council, their meetings had to be quick and planned and sometimes cut short as she would be called for an impromptu job by Crime Sorciere. He had seen her twice in the last month and even when they talked all the time through the communication lacrima, it wasn’t the same as holding her in his arms and kissing her soft warm lips.

Yes, Lyon had been missing her so much and he had been eagerly looking forward for this date when she had texted him to tell him she would be in Hargeon for a day and a half.

I’ll be at Edolas coffee shop Monday at 5 o’clock. Can’t wait to see you! - M

He did a little happy dance after reading her text and planned a week ahead to have today free for his date with Meredy.

It was unexpected, and a bit annoying, when Lyon’s Master asked him first to go to Magnolia to give a letter to Makarov. Well, he had a couple hours to spare, so this little errand wouldn’t be too bothersome. By 10 in the morning he entered Makarov’s office, handing off the envelope quickly and waving the old master goodbye. He was supposed to leave immediately, not wanting to waste any more time in case something would come across his way to Hargeon.

Unfortunately, a certain said something had been another ice-make mage that dragged Lyon into a stupid brawl with the rest of the Fairy Tail mages.

And though he thoroughly enjoyed himself during the fight, not caring as he lost some of his clothing out of habit, his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he glanced at the clock on the far wall of the guild.

3:30 pm.

He scrambled quickly to grab his clothes, putting them on as fast as he could as he bolted through the guild doors and headed to the train station. He could still make it in time if he grabbed the first train to Hargeon. Just an hour ride by train and a 10 minute power walk to the coffee shop and Lyon would be in time for their date.

It was just his luck that today of all days the rails from Magnolia to Hargeon had been destroyed. It would take him three hours to walk there and he didn’t carry enough jewels with him to rent a magical vehicle to reach Hargeon in time.

“How the hell am I going to get there now?!” His low voice showed his worry as he tried to thing on any other option to get to Hargeon.

“Hurry up! We need get this stuff to Hargeon today!” A voice to his right caught Lyon’s attention. He noticed just then the big blue truck being loaded with lots of cardboard boxes from different sizes. Two men hurried themselves at trying to get every box inside the truck as fast as they could, but Lyon could tell it would still take them a while before they could fit everything inside the truck.

An idea popped in his head and he immediately rushed to the men’s side. “Hey! Need a hand with all of that?”

“Good luck on your date pal!” The driver waved off as he and his partner drove away towards their destination. They had been kind enough to drop off Lyon a block away from Edolas coffee shop since the ice-make mage helped them load the truck faster and saved them lots of time when a flat tire stopped them in the middle of the road.

Lyon sighed as he saw the truck disappear down the road. He looked at a nearby clock and winced when the starking realization dawned on him.

He was late.

5:30 pm.

Thirty minutes late.

He ran his hand through his white hair trying to quell his anxiety. During the entire trip from Magnolia to Hargeon he had forced himself to remain calm and not to give in to the million thoughts coursing through his racing mind.

Everything’s gonna be alright. I’ll get there in time. He repeated to himself over and over again.

They should have made it to Hargeon in an hour or so, but the flat tire halfway through the trip crushed all of Lyon’s hopes to reach the cafe by 5 pm. He tried texting Meredy as soon as he left Magnolia, telling her that he was on his way but might be a couple minutes late, but apparently she didn’t get his text. Lyon assumed then that she must have forgotten her communication lacrima, something that happened quite often whenever she got too excited about anything. So with no way of calling her or texting her and with him arriving late to their date, his only hope was that she had stayed at the cafe waiting for him to show up. He was going to apologize profusely but it will all be okay as long as he’d get to see her today.

Taking a deep breath, Lyon steadied his nerves and he walked around the corner to where he knew he would find Edolas coffee shop. Yet again, he froze on his spot as the cafe came into view.

“No, no, no!” He rushed to the front door, trying to push it open but it wouldn’t bulge. He peeked inside and saw it was completely deserted with the lights off.

What the hell?! Why is it closed?!

By this time of the day, the coffee shop was usually bursting with life and movement from the sea of customers that enjoyed the food and drinks served in this place. It was Meredy’s favorite coffee shop and they used the heavily busy cafe so Meredy could hide amongst the crowd if she needed to make a sudden run from the Magic Council.

Why? Why?! WHY?!

His forehead hit the glass door defeatedly, making it rattle but still not opening. Everything just had to go wrong today, right?

His eyes closed as he bumped his head against the frame again, leaning his entire body into it. How was he supposed to find Meredy now? Without the communication lacrima and with the cafe being closed, he had no idea where to start looking. For all he knew, she might had left Hargeon already, since the cafe wouldn’t suffice the hiding spot they needed for their date.

He slammed his fist against the door repeatedly. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Lyon?” A sweet voice called him and he straightened up immediately at the melodic sound. His name always sounded wonderful whenever it left her lips.

Meredy stood a few steps from him with her usual dark-blue hood over her head concealing her bright pink hair as best as it could. When his gaze met her warm eyes, his breath caught up in his throat as a red blush spread over his cheeks. It didn’t matter how long they had been dating for, Lyon would always marveled at how beautiful she is.

A moment passed between them as Lyon remained silent blinking comically at his girlfriend. “Lyon? Are you okay?” She tilted her head to the side. Concern and amusement danced in her eyes at looking at the ice-make mage who had been banging his head against the cafe’s door.

Lyon finally recovered gasping as he turned to face her directly. “Meredy!” He closed the distance between them with two quick steps. His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish as his mind raced with all the things he wanted to say. “Y-you’re here! ‘M so sorry- it’s Gray’s fault! And t-then the train- and the flat tire- and-and why the hell is the coffee shop closed?!” He waved his hands frantically, growing more flustered by the second.

His rambling halted as she giggled in that unique way of hers that had her eyes closing and crinkling on the edges in mirth with her hand moving to try to conceal the beautiful sounds that would escape her lips. All nervousness, all anxiety and worry left him as Lyon’s lips quirked upwards in a gentle smile.

Gods, how he loved to hear her laugh.

“Lyon, I can’t understand anything you’re saying,” she said between giggles. She locked her eyes with his and noticed he was more relaxed now as his soft gaze make her feel like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him; the gentle smile was still present on his lips.

Lyon sighed and scratched the back of his head bashfully. “I’m sorry I’m late for our date.”

“Huh? Date?”

“Yeah?” His brow furrowed slightly at the confusion behind her tone. “You texted me to meet you here at 5 today.” Did she forgot about their date?

Her eyes widened for a moment, her mouth forming a small ‘o’ as it dawned on her why Lyon was standing in front of Edolas coffee shop when the cafe was unmistakably closed today.

Then, Meredy laughed.

Hard.

The type of laugh that one can’t contain and rattles their entire body to the core. The type of laugh that comes in just a few occasions and can be caused by just a few important people in their lives. The type of laugh Meredy had shared only with Lyon because he was the only one able to bring that burst of joy to her life.

Lyon’s frown deepened at her reaction, confusion tilting his head to the side as he watched her clutch her sides from how hard she was laughing. “What’s so funny?” Dammit, her laugh was so contagious that it took all of Lyon’s willpower not to join her in the laughter. He was curious on why did she find this to be so amusing.

She draw a deep breath to calm herself a bit to answer him, amusement and joy still coating her voice. “I said Monday, silly.”

“So? It is Monday.”

“Dummy!” Another set of giggles escaped her mouth. “Today is Sunday!”

Lyon’s jaw dropped as it dawned on him that he somehow had forgot what day it truly was. All his anxiety and stress over getting to Hargeon on time had been uncalled for and now he understood Meredy’s amusement. He dragged his hand over his face and soon enough joined Meredy in her laughter that had resumed at his dumbfounded expression.

“I’m such an idiot.” He laughed. “Is that why the coffee shop is closed then?”

“Mhm!” Meredy nodded. “I finished my mission sooner than I thought. So I came here to pass the time until I could get to see you tomorrow.” She smiled so brightly and sweetly that Lyon’s heart did a somersault in his chest.

She stepped closer to him until he could feel the warmth of her body just a breath away from his. “Since we’re already here,” she gave him a small peck on his cheek that sent his heart racing again, “how about we take a walk around town? I know a great place that serves the most delicious ice cream I’ve ever had!” Her voice took on the happier tone as she clasped her hands behind her back, looking even more adorable than she already was.

All Lyon could do was nod mutely, all words dying in his throat from the flood of emotions washing over him. All his troubles from earlier might seemed pointless by now, but being with Meredy and laughing alongside her was everything he had been looking for. No matter how stressful the day had been, everything was worth it to see that bright smile and shining eyes.

He offered her his arm, which she gladly took. Arm in arm, they walked down the street laughing and chatting about their lives.

Apparently Lyon wasn’t late to his date with Meredy. He was awfully and luckily early.

Hope you liked this cookie! you’re an amazing friend and I’m incredibly happy to have met you <3 never stop being awesome <3 

Everyone needs to wish Happy Birthday to cookie <3

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 29

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2018

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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“Kurin and I were playmates when we were young,” Silor began earnestly. “We didn’t know what Cat was back then.  She was just someone who was always there.  Cat knew lots of good stories about the First Ships.  That’s where it started.  Kurin started asking for more stories and Cat started teaching her apart from the rest of us.

“One night, Kurin’s father died.  He was only twenty nine or thirty. Kurin found him.  Within a short time, her mother went raving mad, then ceased to move or do anything.  She’s still like that. Afterwards, Kurin and Cat, the Dragon, became inseparable.  I think that her parents were a test of Kurin by the Dragon but I’ll never know for sure.

“A little after that, Kurin beat me out of the boat-shop apprenticeship under Master Juris.  I was two Gatherings older and considered likely for the job.  Then, without any explanation, no other Craft on the Longin would have me either.  Her influence was spreading.

“To be fair, I never heard of Cat doing anything evil.  She wasn’t human, so she may not have realized what kind of person she was teaching.

“I became a deck-hand.  I was a good one.  In only one and a half Gatherings I was made lead deck-hand, the youngest ever on the Longin.  Ask anyone, I was well-thought-of, maybe officer material in a few more Gatherings.

“I admit that I fell asleep on watch.  It was only a nap, and I was on duty in the hold.  How much trouble was that?  I’ll tell you.  They stripped me of my lead deck-hand job!  Only three of her lousy crabs died, and they broke me for it!

“Later, I was in a class,” Silor paused, torn between ingrained loyalty and his tale.  “I can’t tell you what the class was about.  That’s Ship’s Business.  The important thing is this.  She was in the class, too.  Captain Mord told me that I was doing well and then threw me out of the class.”

Huh, she thought, hearing this out, If he believes what he’s saying there’s enough emptiness in his head to make a good float out of it.  I’ve heard some of these tales from other sources.  It’s obvious that he’s left out more than he’s told.  “Ye make a start on yer case but i’ t’is come up in t’e Arrakan fleet, ye’d lose.  Oi need more proof.  Especially about t’e fleet bein’ under ‘er control.  Ye’ve nae even addressed t’at.”

“Tanlin, love, I can attest to at least some of what he says.  He first brought the matter to my attention five Gatherings ago, as a lad of nine.  Since then I have watched the surreptitious machinations of Kurin.  She does far more than make toys!”

“Oi fail t’ see ‘t, Barad, m’ luve.  T’e fleet dinnae revolve about ‘er.  She commands nane, nae is she any but kind.”

Silor started to rise up in protest but Barad waved him down.  “That is true.  She is far too clever to put herself in so exposed a position. Why should she take risks when others will do so for her without even knowing that they serve her?  She has real power — — and no need for the trappings of power.”

He appeared to be hit by inspiration.  “Stand up, Silor!”

Mystified, Silor did so.

“There you are, Tanlin, the proof stands before you.”

“Oi’m now confused.  Enlighten m’.”

“Why was he exiled?”

“‘E slept on wotch, w’ich ‘e admits, an’ gave away Ship’s Business.”

“What business did he give away?  I’ll tell you.  He told amusing stories about their crabbing venture, which I grant is a main business for them.  The deadly revelation?  That they had special nets for crabs and knew where to find them.  Both are obvious to anyone who thinks for ten seconds.”

“Oi’m beginnin’ t’ see.  T’is wa’ a mere pretext.”

“Exactly. Once he was ejected from the Longin, his credentials should have gotten him an immediate berth on almost any ship in the fleet.  It didn’t happen.

“I was at the Captains’ Council.  Everyone agreed, even the Longin, that he had done nothing to die for but no ship would save him.  And they agreed that he was worth saving.  Thus, exile.  She rid herself of a nuisance, and no blood shed, nor clue that it was even her doing — — unless one looks at the whole unlikely chain of events.”

“Wy’d ye nae just take ‘im up t’en, like so many ot’ers ye’ve ‘elped?”

“Yes,” said Silor.  “Why did you let me be sent away?”

“Safety,” said Barad solemnly.  “Yours and mine.  You opposed her openly and she determined to have you removed.  That is why the others would not help you.  

“What would have happened to your only refuge if I had opposed her will by taking you openly?  I play the part of buffoon, many laugh at this ship and myself.  Let them.  It keeps her from taking us seriously. That is the only safety that there is.”

“Now Oi see ‘t.  Wye wa’ ‘t so ‘ard t’ see?”  You do play well to his madness, Barad.  I would not have tried to turn this one to a tool.  I must learn what you plan to do.  This one is dangerous.

Solemnly Barad said, “This is why only she, of all who claim to be Dragon-witches, is dangerous.  She never owns-up to her power.  She never claims it.  She just uses it, hidden from all.”

There was a discrete rap at the door.  They all quieted at once.  Barad went and opened it a narrow slit.  A whispered conversation followed.

“That was the watch officer.  We need to go up on deck.”

As they were going up the companion-ladder to the deck, Barad asked casually, “Have you ever seen your boat before?”

“Yes,” said Silor tightly.  “In the Longin’s boat-shop.”

“Master Juris must have been pleased with it.”

“He was but he didn’t build it . . .”  A look of fear washed across Silor’s face as the realization hit.  “Kurin did.  It was her journeyman’s submission piece.”  He ran to the rail.  “Where is it?  Where’s the boat?”

“I’m Officer of the Watch, Theld Elon, Sir.  Boat’s at the end of its line.”  The line went down into the water, drawn tight and pulled back at an angle by the Grandalor’s speed.  “Went down sudden a few minutes ago.”

Tanlin looked calmly over the side.  “‘T appears t’at we almost missed pickin’ ye up.  Oi wonder ‘ow t’is ‘appened?” How did you do this, you old dragon?  What a touch!  I would never have thought of this!

“Mister Theld, heave to,” ordered Captain Barad with quiet authority.  “Get a diver on deck now!  We need to secure that boat for lifting.  With the water in her she’ll be heavy when she breaches the surface.”

Theld set to issuing orders, and the tocsin began its tattoo of command, bringing the watch to deck.  A diver, roused from her bunk, came up still yawning and stretching.  A pair of ungainly looking flat things were hung over her shoulder.

“What’s the problem, Captain?”

“We need to retrieve the boat that’s on the end of this line.”

Without any question as to why or if it were urgent, the diver got straight to business.

“What kind of boat is it and how big?”

“Day-sailer. About twenty five feet long, loaded for a month’s voyage.” Captain Barad looked for confirmation to Silor, who nodded.

“How long is this line?”  She had stripped, leaving only a pair of tight fitting shorts.  Sitting on the deck, she began strapping the flat things onto her feet.  She tied her hair into a tight bun.

“About forty feet.”

“OK, I’ll need two fifty foot, number three cables.  Attach the first one to the cargo block of the heavy crane.  Get the portable crane over here and secure it to the mizzen mast.  Put the other cable onto its cargo block.”

There was a lull for Captain Barad, Tanlin and Silor, as the watch crew prepared things to the diver’s satisfaction.

“What are those things on her feet?” Silor asked.

“Arrakan diver’s flips,” Tanlin answered.  “Our divers ‘ave used t’em for Gat’erings past remembering.”

“I thought that you lost your memory,” said Silor curiously.  “Did it come back?”  At her look of distress and Barad’s of rage, he feared that he had made a serious mistake.

“Nae, Luve.  Donnae ‘old ‘t against ‘im.”  She was biting back tears.  The more I do this the easier it is to forget that it’s an act.  “Ye cannae protect m’ from t’e world forever, an’ Oi must learn t’ cope wit’ ‘t.” She turned to Silor.  “Tis like t’is.  Oi lost only ane t’ing from m’ memory.  People. M’sel’ an’ eveyane t’at Oi’ve ever known, until Oi awoke t’ t’e Orca song.

“Oi can draw ye t’e plan an’ lines o’ ever’ ship Oi‘ve lived on.  Oi know all t’at Oi used t’ know.  Oi ‘ave t’e ’ule Arrakan fleet, ‘ts laws, customs, navigation, ever’t’in’s ‘ere,” she tapped her temple.  “But t’ere’s nae ane person t’ere!  Nae even m’sel’!  Tis worse t’an ghosts.  Tis utterly empty an’ never stops ‘urting, unless Oi can focus on somet’in’ new.

“Barad’s precious t’ m’ because ‘e keeps m’ safe at night.  ‘E ‘olds m’ an’ keeps t’e emptiness inside from swallowin’ m’.” Strange, but that’s nearly true.  Even if what we did was wrong, what’s done is done.  We were married before the whole Naral fleet by Arrakan law and, as it was accepted, it’s now legal by the Third Great Law.  I’m being treated like a partner and friend as a wife should be.

“I’m sorry,” said Silor sincerely.  “I have some idea of what you must feel.  I’ve lost my ship, too.  Also, my fleet, all that made home for me.  They’re gone but I remember everything and everyone.  It hurts.”

“Oi donnae t’ink Oi’d like t’ trade places wit’ ye, Silor.”  My act is sailing closer and closer to reality.  Your madness is driving you ever further onto dry land.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS   NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

[adscititious-cacoethes]

Petrichor (6/12)

Pairing: Eventual Trevor C./Reader; other background relationships Chapter: 6 of 12 Warnings: Swearing, Geoff’s Still Extra, Poor Jeremy Continues to Know Nothing, (mostly) Shameless Pining, More Books, The Single Best Joke I’ve ever Written, Mica and Mariel and Tyler all make appearances, vampires and werewolves and things that go bump in the night (PG-13) Word Counts: Chapter: 4,509  Total: 22,587 A/N: Thanks again to those of you who replied with nice things to say! It made my heart feel warm and fuzzy. Don’t be afraid to contact me if you want to chit-chat about this! We’re halfway there, everyone! Woo!!! Reminder that this has a bunch of supernatural-y stuff, and also that this would not have seen the light of day (pun intended), if it weren’t for @chefgeofframsay. P.S. - Feedback would be cool P. P. S. - sorry if any chapters end kind of weird, this was written as one long thing and then I decided to break it up.  Previous|Next

Not long after your discovery, business picked up again, with people coming in on their way home from work. It was also starting to dip into the evening, so more of the Non-Normal clientele were starting to come in. Two of your regulars wandered in around six, on their way home from where they worked together. They were both on the shorter side, and you knew the moment they walked in by the way that Jeremy tensed and his head lifted a little bit, the smell of their magical blood probably flooding his senses.

“[Y/N], sup?” The woman, Mariel, said to you as soon as she could see you through the shelves, while you watched her companion, Tyler, do the handshake-chestbump-brohug thing with Blaine. You smiled and waved.

“Hey, Mariel, how’s it going?” You asked her, and she sighed, shaking her head.

“Idiot back there bet me I couldn’t stomach troll food. Got a cookbook for that?” She asked voice lowered a little bit even though there weren’t any Normal humans in earshot, and you watched Jeremy relax a little bit out of the corner of your eye once he registered the genuine friendliness of your conversation.

“Uh, maybe? Third floor in the back has cookbooks. I don’t know if I have any troll ones, though. You may have to settle for stone giant, although most of those recipes involve eating rocks.”

“I’ll eat a rock, I don’t give a fuck.” Mariel said with a smile, turning and heading towards the hall that housed the stairs.

“C’mon, asshole!” She shouted to a still-chatting-with-Blaine-by-the-door Tyler, who immediately started jogging her way.

You noticed a girl in the trashy romance novel section stop and stare at Tyler’s ass, and you focused to See if Tyler was attracting her. Sure enough, she was the dull, unassuming and barely-there gray of a human, so you turned to Tyler. His aura was a bright rosy color. Hmph. Must just actually think the asshole’s attractive. You thought to yourself, watching as Tyler’s red and Mariel’s bright, grass green got close enough to touch and become a yellowy color at the touching edges as they walked down the hall together.

“Who were they?” Jeremy whispered as soon as they were down the hall and out of sight. You crouched down next to his chair.

“Mariel and Tyler. Uh, forest nymph and incubus. No, they’re not dating, they’re friends and regular customers. Typically, when someone goes upstairs either Blaine or I go up with them, yanno, to prevent stealing and deviousness and stuff, but we don’t bother with regulars.” You explained quietly, very aware of the human woman nearby, who had resumed looking at the romance novels. Jeremy nodded and returned to his book.

A while later, after both human woman and Mariel and Tyler checked out (they wound up going with the stone giant cookbook, as well as one on raw meat dishes catering towards werewolves), Jack wandered back to the cash register.

“Hey, Jeremy? Ryan’s on his way, so get ready to go.” Jack said, and Jeremy nodded. You pulled a big canvas bag from a shelf behind the register and helped Jeremy load all of his books into it.

“[Y/N?]” Jeremy asked, and you hummed, carefully placing Ghosts and Undead: A Guide for Dummies into the bag, trying to Tetris everything in.

“Can I read this one, too? I know it was the one you were reading earlier.” He asked, and you looked up, seeing The Sight: The Ultimate Guide for the Seer in his hands. You furrowed your brow, realizing that you had put it with Jeremy’s books instead of back on the shelf where it belonged once you had realized that Lindsay was a valkyrie.

On one hand, you could See, and it was a thing that not many people could do, so it would be nice to talk to someone else about it. On the other hand, half of the things Ashley wrote about in that book you couldn’t do, like Predicting, Scrying, and Dream-Walking, so when Jeremy inevitably came to you, asking questions and wanting to talk about those things, you would have to admit that you couldn’t do them, and that might be awkward.

The look of sincere curiosity on Jeremy’s face is what swayed you, and you slowly nodded, reaching out for the book and tucking it into the bag.

“You might want to talk to Geoff a little bit about it, unlike the other ones I gave you, it assumes that you know some stuff right off the back. It’s more of a science book for scientists instead of a science book for students.” You warned him, and he nodded, picking up the heavy bag like it was nothing and swinging it onto his shoulder.

A few minutes later, at exactly eight PM, the bell on the door chimed and you could see the tall figure of Ryan walk in. He talked to Jack and Jeremy for a few minutes, before the other men left, and you skirted the counter and strode to meet him.

“Hi, Ryan.” You said, giving a little wave.

“Hello. Who’s that?” He asked, pointing to the corner where you saw a gently snoring Blaine star-fished in a chair.

��Oh, that’s Blaine. He’s my employee, who’s currently sleeping on the job, I guess.” You said, laughing and moving to wake Blaine up.

“Blaine, wake up, you have to meet Ryan.” You urged, shaking his shoulder. The blond woke up with a groggy groan, but stood up and offered his hand to Ryan nonetheless.

“’m Blaine.” He mumbled and blinked a few times as Ryan laughed and shook his hand.

“Ryan.”

“You’re the other one of the guys who helped my girl here out, right?” Blaine pulled you into his side with his arm around your shoulders, ruffling your hair with his other hand. You quickly swatted it away and smoothed down your hair.

“Uh, yes, that’d be me.” Ryan replied, still snickering at Blaine.

“Good.” Blaine yawned as he responded, leaning heavily enough on you that you had to use your wings to keep the two of you upright.

“Blaine, get off, you asshole.” You shoved at Blaine’s side, and he reluctantly complied, laughing.

“Why don’t you go home, dude? We’re going to be open late tomorrow and you came in early because of the Glitter Bomb Duo. I’ll close up and stuff.” You offered, and Blaine grinned at you.

“Well, if you insist…” He trailed off, looking innocent but he was already scooting past Ryan and heading toward the door.

“Fuck you, Blaine.”

“Love you too!” He called as the door slammed shut behind him.

Which left you with Ryan, who was staring at you with a strange expression on his face.

“Alright, well, let me go through and close up and stuff and then we can head home and whatever?” You offered, but Ryan continued to look at you like you hadn’t spoken at all.

You stood there a minute longer, before sighing inwardly and walking around Ryan to close the blinds on the windows and switch the sign to “closed” in the door. You were halfway to the stairs to make sure that the upper floors were void of customers when Ryan finally spoke.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I give up. How do you and him – Blaine – do it?” Ryan asked, and you turned to see him walking through the rows of shelves toward you. You rose an eyebrow, fixing him with your best what the fuck are you talking about face.

“Do what, Ryan?” You asked, once again starting to walk towards the back hallway after he got within a few feet of you.

“Well, he’s a centaur, right? That’s what Michael told me this morning.”

“Uh-huh. So?” You said, urging him on while popping your head in the women’s restroom to make sure no one was there. You knocked on the door to the men’s room and did the same.

“So, you’re fae. Body types are completely different. Makes it severely improbable. Unless! Unless he can still pop a boner while shifted to look like a human. Is that how you two do it?” Ryan’s voice had an edge of excitement and curiosity in it.

You spluttered, nearly tripping over your own feet, and then you started coughing. You could feel your face turning beet red.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t – shit, Ryan! Did you – did you really think we’re together? Blaine’s my best friend, sure, but he’s like an annoying brother more than anything. I don’t know how his centaur junk works and now you’ve put the mental image in my head! I’m scarred, scarred for life!” You half-shouted, slamming your hands onto your face and rubbing your eyes.

Ryan, for his part, managed to look sheepish.

“Well, from what Michael told me this morning, and your behavior, I thought…” He trailed off, and you ascended the first could stairs before turning around so that you were eye-to-eye.

“Blaine is my best friend. I explained that to Michael this morning, but I guess he didn’t believe me. He’s gross and not my type. I’m not in a relationship right now, at all, Ryan.” You weren’t quite sure why you added that last part (you absolutely knew why and his name started with T and ended with ‘revor’), but Ryan seemed to get your point, nodding and rubbing the back of his head.

“Alright, point taken, sorry. But in my defense, it’s Michael’s fault.” Ryan retorted, part-apologetic and part-accusatory, his hands up in a gesture of innocence.

“Okay, whatever, it’s fine. Just – please don’t tell Blaine, he’ll never let me live it down.” You sighed as Ryan nodded, and the two of you swept through both the second and the third floors, making sure no one was there before returning back to the ground floor. You grabbed your things, did a final sweep of the main floor, and then locked up. You started down the sidewalk towards your apartment, but Ryan grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Nuh-uh. None of this ‘walking’ shit. It’s getting late, we’re driving.” Ryan said, gesturing to the nice-looking but still nondescript black SUV before jingling some car keys in his hand. You sighed, a little disappointed that you didn’t get your full amount of “exercise” for the day (and, more importantly, didn’t get to stop at your favorite ice cream parlor, located exactly halfway between your store and your home), but followed Ryan into the car regardless. As you buckled in, you heard your phone chirp from your purse.

[From: Trevor 3:15:15 PM] If any of the boys give you trouble, let me know.

[From: Trevor 8:46:01 PM] Hey, Ryan says you guys are heading back to your apartment now. Geoff wants to know if you can give him some semblance of a schedule for when Books & More Books is open. I told him what you said, that you didn’t really have one, and his response was “well make one!”

You smiled to yourself, not noticing that Ryan had glanced at you, smiling a secret smile of his own.

[To: Trevor 8:47:10 PM] Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays we open earlier and close around 7 or 8-ish. Tuesdays, Fridays, Saturdays we open around 12 or 1 and stay later, usually until midnight. Sundays is a wild card.

[To: Trevor 8:47:57 PM] Also, apparently Michael told Ryan that Blaine and I were dating? Even though I made a point to call Blaine my best friend so that no one assumed we were dating? Cause that’s like, gross, Blaine’s like a brother? So that was awkward. If you could yell at Michael for spreading lies and slander, that’d be great :)

You tried your best to phrase it like you were joking and not really all that mad, but judging by Trevor’s immediate response of “I’m gonna fucking kill him”, you had missed your mark. You spent a couple minutes going back and forth, trying to reassure the man (read: dark-haired, tall, handsome, adorable, nice man) that it was okay, and you didn’t really mind all that much, and that it wasn’t the first time that you and Blaine had been mistaken for a couple (although it was the first time someone had asked how the two of you would have sex – that thought sent an unpleasant shudder down your spine just recalling the conversation), but Trevor wouldn’t budge on the matter.

Sure enough, when you and Ryan were safely back in your apartment and Ryan had checked to make sure no one was there and you were making spaghetti, your phone started playing “Highway to Hell”. Confused, you looked, only to find you had gotten a text from Michael:

[From: Cool Guy Jones 9:12:32 PM] Sorry for telling Ryan that you and Blaine were dating, even though I didn’t actually say the words “[Y/N] and Blaine are dating”. Ryan read into it the wrong way, I guess. See you tomorrow!

You sighed and changed Michael’s contact name (but kept the ringtone, because it was actually pretty funny) before sending a response.

[To: Michael 9:15:42 PM] It’s fine, just provided a really awkward conversation. Sorry if Trevor jumped down your throat about it, I’m not actually super upset as long as Blaine doesn’t find out.

As an afterthought, you took a picture of Gus, grumpy as ever, sleeping in the bright pink castle you had bought for him back when you thought he was a girl (then you did some research on the type of fish he was and came to discover that only boys are that color), and sent it to Michael without context.

Michael sent you back about seven middle finger emojis, accompanied by a “Fuck you.”

Unfortunately, after dinner you realized you had forgotten to ask Blaine for your air mattress, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind, just asked for a blanket and told you that he was “Used to sitting upright” with a creepy eyebrow wiggle.

Ryan’s fingers brushed against yours, and you couldn’t help but notice that while Trevor was cool to the touch, Ryan was positively frosty, which was slightly disconcerting and although you knew quite a bit about vampires, you weren’t sure which one was “correct.”

The next day was more of the same. You got up, showered, texted your mother good morning (her and your father were taking a day trip to Milan, which made you jealous, but she promised to bring back souvenirs), dragged Ryan to the grocery store with you (you remembered the coffee, secretly hoping that Trevor would be coming over again soon and resolutely ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that kept telling you that he was babysitting you and it was his job), and drove down to the store with him a little after lunchtime. Shortly after the two of you arrived, Michael and Lindsay came to relieve Ryan of his duties, Michael wearing normal clothes, but if you looked close enough you could see that not all of his makeup had come off fully, and when the light hit his hair right, you could still see specs of glitter. Blaine showed up around one-thirty, arms laden with the box that contained your air mattress, as well as the pump to fill it with. Michael went out with Blaine to go put it in his car, stating that he was going to be taking you home tonight, and as you watch the two of them chat as they walked out the door, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

Michael driving you home implied no Trevor. You turned to go back to the register to scan in more inventory that you decided not to do yesterday and nearly ran face-first into Lindsay.

“How’s it going?” She asked, bright smile on her face, and you could See her rainbow aura glowing brightly around her.

“Uh, alright. Do you know if y’all have found out anything?” You asked, running a hand through your hair. For all of the time you’ve spent with Ramsey’s crew (which you had found out this morning from eavesdropping on Ryan while he was on the phone that they called themselves “AH”, whatever that means), you hadn’t heard a single thing about what was going on.

“We’re going through all of your father’s recent cases, seeing if anything or anyone seems particularly suspicious and malicious. We also pulled records of every case your dad’s done that has involved fae, Seelie or Unseelie. From what you and Ryan and Trevor told us, the Unseelie who attacked you doesn’t seem to be the leader…”

“But an Unseelie’s right hand man is always and Unseelie, yeah.” You finished for her when she trailed off.

“We’ve got our whole support crew, plus anyone else we can spare, looking into things and following leads and shit. So far, we’ve got a couple of maybe’s, but nothing just yet. The good news is, our pile of no’s just keeps getting bigger and bigger!” She said brightly, which made you smile.

Around five o’clock, Lindsay was traded out for Jeremy, who said that it was supposed to be Gavin but Gavin had forgotten that he and his girlfriend were supposed to be going on a date tonight. Jeremy had a backpack on, so you assumed that meant that he was going to be staying over with you in your apartment tonight, but when he opened it up, it was filled with some of the books you had given him the day before.

“Michael,” He asked, when there was a lull in customers, the only two in the store being upstairs with Blaine, “Michael, the things you can do is terrifying to me. I had no idea you could literally just turn me to ash if you wanted to.” You managed to stifle your laughter, but Michael did not, nearly doubling over. Jeremy turned pink, immediately hiding his face behind the copy of Your Inner Demons, Explained: A Beginner’s Guide to Hell and its Occupants that he had been reading from.

“Jeremy, I’m not a strong enough demon for that.” Michael said, finally, after he had calmed his laughter.

“Yeah, but if you damned some more souls you could!” Jeremy insisted, staring up at Michael earnestly, which just caused Michael to dissolve into giggles again.

Around six-thirty, Blaine went down the street to the diner at the corner of your block (owned by a sweet elderly couple of nereids) and brought back dinner for all. Your phone chirped while the four of you were crowded around a coffee table near the front of the store, and you pulled it out of your pocket to take a look.

[From: Trevor 6:54:21 PM] Hey, hope your day’s going well! Sorry I can’t come visit, Geoff and I are working on some stuff.

[To: Trevor 6:54:58 PM] Yeah, it’s been great! Nothing particularly interesting to report. Hope “stuff” with Geoff goes well!

You tried to school your face to “mildly interested”, but you could tell you hadn’t quite succeeded, if the suggestive wiggling eyebrows that Blaine gave you when you looked up from your phone after locking it and shoving it back into your pocket.

A little while later, you were sitting next to Jeremy by the register, you flipping through The Care and Keeping of Yacumama: A (Mostly) Complete History of Sea Monsters while he had moved on to Wolves! Were?: A New Wolf’s Guide to His Inner Beast. Jeremy was telling you about how he just learned that once he’s more experienced with his wolf-side, he’ll be able to Change at will, no matter the time of the month, when the bell above the door chimed and a loud, “What’s up, you fucks?” was shouted into the room.

“Hey, Mica!” You called, registering but not paying attention to the way Jeremy stiffened. He’d been doing it, probably subconsciously, every time someone new had walked in that didn’t smell at least vaguely familiar, and you were fairly certain Jeremy would’ve never experienced someone like Mica before.

A woman that was browsing cookbooks gave Mica a glare as she waltzed past, but Mica paid her no mind, instead just pulling you up from your chair and sweeping you into a hug.

“Girl, I missed you!” She exclaimed, and you laughed into her shoulder as you returned the hug.

“Missed you too, how was Egypt?” You asked as you pulled away.

She laughed, and her sparkling golden aura glittered as she moved, “Oh, it was wonderful. Father sends his love, of course.”

“And of course, you told him I send mine?” It was more of a statement than a question, and when Mica nodded, you could almost see the outline of a lioness’s head in her aura around her face.

“Of course.” She agreed, before finally turning to look at Jeremy, who had abandoned his book in favor of staring up at the two of you.

“Oh, Mica, this is Jeremy. It’s a long story, Blaine or I will fill you in later, but I’m being babysat until further notice.” You explained as Jeremy rose and stuck out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mica.”

Mica gracefully took Jeremy’s hand within her own, “Pleasure’s mine.”

“Blaine’s upstairs if you want to go say hi. We’re staying open late tonight ‘cause it’s Tuesday, so if you want to just go up there and man a floor for a while, be my guest.” You informed Mica, and she nodded before heading off towards the stairs.

“Mica’s a friend of yours, right?” Jeremy asked once you sat back down.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “she’s one of my two friends. She was visiting family in Egypt for the past couple months, so I’m happy that she’s back. Blaine just doesn’t cut it when you want to talk about girly stuff.”

“So, uh…” Jeremy trailed off, looking around a bit before dipping his head towards you and dropping his voice to a whisper, “she’s not human, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Nope. Want to hazard a guess?”

“I don’t know…it’s hard to tell, especially since she’s been in Egypt for a while. She smells, old and like, sandy? I feel like that’s offensive to say, for some reason.”

“No, you’re right. How familiar are you with Egyptian mythology?” You asked, and Jeremy lifted his head to meet your eye.

“You’re fucking with me.” He said, deadpan, but there was wonder shining in his eyes.

“Nope. You, my man, just met Sekhmet, lion-headed warrior goddess, also a goddess of healing. She prefers Mica, though, and if you act like she’s royalty or whatever she’ll fucking destroy you.” You said, smiling at the way Jeremy’s eyes lit up and then darkened with fear.

“Holy shit. Is everything real?” He inquired.

“Nah, no such thing as unicorns. That’s bullshit.”

Once the sun went down and the number of non-human beings skyrocketed, things got a little bit busy, but they settled down near midnight, and you, Mica, and Blaine did a sweep of the building, making sure that everything was clean and no one was still there before you locked up for the night. Blaine and Mica broke off from your group, deciding to head down to a nearby bar for some drinks, and Jeremy also departed, tell you that he’d see you tomorrow, backpack still laden with books.

That left you and Michael, sitting silently in the car as the radio played softly in the background.

“So, how’re you doing?” Michael asked finally, about halfway to your destination.

“Alright.” You said, toying with your phone in your hands. You had been checking it periodically all day, and had not gotten a single text from Trevor since dinner. You tried to hide the disappointment that was threatening to pull up from somewhere deep in your gut.

Michael hummed, tone disbelieving, but didn’t say anything. You were thankful for that.

When you got back to your apartment, and the normal drill of whoever you were with checking to make sure your apartment was “clear” before you walked in occurred, you were dragging your feet. All you wanted to do was fall face-first onto your bed, but you helped Michael push your furniture around and blow up the air mattress first. You were halfway to your room when you remembered that you hadn’t fed Gus yet.

“Hello, Gus.” You said quietly, so that you didn’t disturb Michael playing games on your couch. You dropped flakes into the tank for your grumpy little fish, and nearly yelled out in shock when a second blue fish darted up to the food!

“Holy fuck, Michael, come here!” You said, and the taller man was at your side nearly instantaneously, looking around wildly.

“What, what?” He demanded.

“I have two fish!” You pointed at the tank, where, sure enough, grumpy little Gus was eating while a new fish swam around him in circles.

“Why does that matter?” Michael spit, but he was watching the fish just as intently as you were.

“Michael, I don’t have two fish, I only have one Gus.”

Michael’s eyes went wide. He looked to you, and then back to the fish, and then to you, and then he dunked his hand in the tank and pulled out both fish, dropping them on the floor. One of them, Gus, just flopped and spluttered, but the other one immediately started glowing and you and Michael watched as the second fish transformed into a sopping wet Gavin.

Michael immediately started howling with laughter, while you bent down and scooped up Gus, apologizing to the poor fish and setting him back inside his tank. Gus seemed to give you a side-eye, so you put in a few more food flakes as atonement (even though he was supposed to be on a diet).

“What the fuck, Gavin?” Michael yell-laughed, dragging Gavin up from the floor. You ran into your hall closet and grabbed some spare towels, bringing them back and giving them to Gavin, who thanked you and immediately started drying his hair and face with one, the other wrapped around his shoulders.

“I bloody get called back to the penthouse in the middle of my date with Turney, and so I came back, and it turned out that it was something Matt could’ve bloody well fixed, so I called Geoff an arsehole and he started giggling. Told me not to be such a ‘grumpy gills’, an’ the next thing I know, I’m in a bloody fish tank!”

Michael, who had calmed down enough to listen to Gavin, started laughing so hard you couldn’t really hear it any more, face beet red and head thrown back.

“It’s not funny!” Gavin shouted at him, but he was smiling, too, so you were pretty sure he didn’t mean it.

“It’s fucking hilarious, Gav. Come on, let me call Jack or someone to get you home.” Michael said, and you retreated to your room.

[reesebird]

New Post has been published on https://reesebird.com/2019/08/13/meeting-family/

Meeting family?

I apologise in advance this is long and complicated TW (mental abuse/alleged sexual abuse/physical attack) (Note: I am currently 29 years old)

My mother has always been a single mother. I am repeatedly told by her and her friends how she gave up her job and life and everything for me. She never ever ever tells me a thing about the past. To the point where one of her friends would let slip “when we were teens and snuck out to the cinema…” my mum was absolutely furious and got extremely angry at her friend for telling (trying to tell me) a story about her and also at me for “listening to her sh*t” I CANNOT know ANYTHING. And the only friend who let things slip has now died.

She is so secretive about my actual family that any friends (or friend’s parents) who’d ask about my dad or why she never married she’d never let me talk to them ever again (which made school awkward).

She is extremely controlling with my friends, if I go somewhere she HAS to drive me. She also has to pick me up. This is to confirm I am with who I say I’m with. If I’m vague or if she doesn’t see me actually meet my friend she will wait somewhere around the area and sometimes she sends her friends and her friend’s daughters out to spy on me. Example: One time I said I’m meeting “Natasha” at Starbucks at 11. Got dropped off in town. Natasha couldn’t meet until 1 and we went to Caffè Nero. My mum was furious at me because she walked past Starbucks and sat outside waiting for me and I never showed up. “Who were you with, where were you what were you doing, you’re a liar, this is why I don’t trust you” The next day I met a different friend “Kayleigh” and outside the place we were meeting was my mum’s friend’s daughter who watched me go in, who I sat with and immediately started typing on her phone. (I was 28 at the time this happened. Not young!). She’ll also go into shops or cafes or places my friends work and ask if I was in and who was I with and things like that.

She refuses to let me have my own bank card and my own money. I need to say what I want the money for, show her the items I bought and also reciepts.

For some random reason when I was a child (maybe 6,7,8?) she told me my Nan (Dad’s mum) wants contact with me. My dad’s side of the family live a 6 hour journey away but I chose yes, I want to see them. My mum let me meet my Nan briefly but made many snide comments about hating her and contact dropped off. I WAS allowed to meet my aunts and uncles. And their children (my cousins). I could meet anyone I wanted as long as it wasn’t my Dad. And I was to never ask about him (at such a young age I was terrified to go against my mum’s wishes).

When I was 14 I started to ask about my Dad. My mum went cold and ignored me for a week straight then she got her friend to tell me he’s a loser who has no money and he only wants mine (umm, what money does a 14 year old have worth stealing?) They also said he’s a pervert and only wants contact me because I’m young. They said he has sexually assaulted my mum’s friend, my mum’s friend’s daughter and has attacked my mum.

I never saw or spoke to the family much. I only ever remained in contact with one aunt and her children. I was under the impression Dad re-married and had a wife and 3 kids. I contacted the girl on social media and considered her my sister. My mum was so angry and got someone to hack into my account, send my sister a load of abuse and blocked her.

When I was 18 (in 2008) we went to a big family party for my aunt (the first family event we had been to and we could only go because my Dad wasn’t there). My sister was there and it was the only time we’d ever met and she hid because she was terrified of ME.

Now I need to make this bit clear: I WASN’T HERE FOR THIS NEXT EVENT. This happened outside and I was inside at the bar. The one friend I took with me was with my mum. A cousin who my mum has always made it clear she hated and she tried to make me hate (“he stole your toys when you were 4” “his mother got him tickets to Disneyland and all you got was a photo album, isn’t that unfair?” and so many sly comments and looks) had attacked my mum. I got there as he pushed her up against a fence holding a glass bottle to her face and my cousins (his sisters and brother and our other cousins) were pulling him off of her and helping her. He claims she started it but she says she never said anything directly to his face. My friend confirmed this. Though my friend has since been caught out in many lies amd eventually blocked me. And my mum? Well she’s getting more aggressive. Example: She’ll go to a restaurant my friend owns and I temporarily worked at and demand freebies, refuse to pay and call him a tight fisted “see you N tea” and constantly tell other customers (even new ones who just walked in) how much she hated the food there. Eventually he banned her then banned me from working there, because of her behaviour. And (stupidly) it’s only recently I’ve started to think maybe my mum did cause the incident.

My mum’s been extremely paranoid about the incident. She was scared of him for years because he’s “loose” and “got away with it unpunished” (I have since found out he got over £1,000,fine! But for years she constantly told me they “couldn’t find the security footage” so “the whole family have tool his side and it’s a massive cover up and they’re all involved”). She absolutely forbid me to speak to any of the family at all.

The family continued to send me letters, wedding invitations, birthday cards. My mum would rip them up and it all eventually stopped. Around 5 years ago (so about 6 years after the incident) my cousin I was closest to and who helped pull her brother off of my mum added me on social media. I told my mum about it, lucky for me she’s not on social media but as I said, she has spies and I knew her reaction if she did find out. She told me I can do what I want but she won’t be happy. Then she told me to accept so we can spy on the family. So I added my cousin and as many names as I could remember from the family. Only a few accepted.

Only a few months ago a blank profile contacted me on social media with a phone number saying that’s my Dad’s. I’ve been too scared to phone it because if it got back to my mum I can’t even imagine. Also I have always feared he is dangerous because of what my mum and her friend have said. But it’s always confused me how he’s married and has other kids if he’s so “dangerous” One thing I’ve noticed is he is very rarely in family pictures. I must’ve come across around 2 in total. I stalked his children, the girl I think of as my sister. Her dad is not mine. Not the same face, not the same (first) name. She is my dad’s brother’s. She is my cousin. I’m not sure why my mum freaked out all those years ago when I spoke to her specifically. How is she different to my other cousins?!.

Now one of my cousins has spoke about coming down to visit me. I’d love to see her and I hope she has answers. The problem is she didn’t exactly ask. She just sort of said she is coming down to visit and has already booked the hotel and travel. The few people I trust to cover for me and not blab to my mum have all said it’s extremely important I meet her because she’ll have all the answers. I’ve also been encouraged to call my Dad. But I am so scared of my mum and her reaction. She is mentally and emotionally abusive and she gets physical, too. And if I do the slightest thing wrong she gets her friends, and their friends, and their kids to call and message me what an awful person I am (last time was “I forgot my sandwich, can we turn the car round” because how dare I be demanding and spoilt and MAKE my mum turn around etc etc) so I am too afraid to do something REALLY wrong.

I am so afraid of being caught out in a lie that I’ve been honest and told my mum my cousin is visiting. She thinks it’s an ambush. It’s revenge for all those years ago. She thinks I’ll go to meet one cousin and the whole family will be there waiting to attack me. Then she ignored me all night and when she spoke the next day she said I can only meet my cousin if I’m with her and she’s gonna punch my cousin before my cousin punches us. I don’t think my cousin is aggressive or after revenge because we are actually friends and speak all the time (mum doesn’t know this). (Example of my mum’s paranoia: I asked for some money to go on holiday. She gave it to me, my own and she made up what i cant afford. but kept saying the holiday is not going to happen. She still believes it didn’t. All the pictures of me on holiday? Photoshopped! She thinks I ran off with her money. Where did I go if not on holiday?).

I don’t think my cousin is aware of the beef because before she booked the hotel she asked to stay with us. I don’t want to explain about my mum yet as I dont want to put my cousin off coming. It’s so important that I meet her. But I also have no idea how I’m going to hide her! I don’t know how to start explaining to her.

Side note: I’ve had my mum seen to by doctors and she outright denies any mental health issues and refuses to take any meds because “nothing is wrong”