#Door Hanger Assembly

[itscnc]

Fadal Door Parts

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[h0neylevi]

“Shit shit shit shit shit—“

The sound of your hurried footsteps follow the string of curses as they travel like an echo down the hall, but Levi doesn’t so much as look up from the kitchen sink.

He had tried to get you up earlier, tempting you with the promise of freshly brewed coffee and a hot breakfast, but you insisted on five more minutes. Then inevitably, five more turned into ten which turned into fifteen, and now you’re rushing to get ready and out the door on time for work.

Now he’s had to improvise–turning your breakfast into something portable you can eat on the drive. It’s a skill he’s had to perfect over the years of living with you. To say that time management wasn’t your strong suit would be an understatement. So, Levi moves on to packing your lunch, listening with a small grin at the sound of the tap of your toothbrush against the bathroom sink, followed by clothes hangers being slid back and forth in the closet as you rush to find something suitable to wear to work.

“Have you seen my black turtleneck?”

“In the dryer.”

He schools his expression into something more mild when you finally round the corner a few minutes later, knowing that you’re already stressed about being late. Smiling at you in an I told you so kind of way would only sour your mood further.

“I slept right through my alarm,” you say.

All five of them, plus his gentle prodding to get you out of bed. He doubts you were even conscious enough to remember him trying.

Your eyes flit to the coffee pot to find a travel mug already filled and waiting for you, right next to a neatly assembled wrap that you can only guess is your breakfast. Your expression visibly softens at the sweet gesture.

“Your lunch is packed too,” Levi says, motioning to the insulated lunch bag sitting on the opposite counter.

Even though you’re pressed for time, you step forward to embrace him.

“Thank you, Levi,” you say into his shirt. “You’re a lifesaver.”

His arms wrap easily around you, but there’s lighthearted reproach in his words when he says, “You say that like I don’t have to do this every other day.”

“Well, if you hadn’t kept me up so late last night, I wouldn’t be rushing.”

He shoves you away then, not forceful enough to indicate you’ve said anything to upset him, but you can tell that the mention of the night before has provoked him by the subtle shade of pink that spreads across his cheeks.

He clicks his tongue. “Pervert.”

You lean back a little, still lightly clinging to his waist with a grin. “You’re weren’t saying that last night when my lips were wrapped around your—“

Levi’s palm claps over your mouth before you can finish your sentence, but it does very little to muffle the sound of your laughter that follows.

He leans into you a little, his other hand anchored to your waist to keep you close. “You’re going to be late.”

Deciding he’s endured enough for one morning, you pull away and go to gather your breakfast. “Yeah, yeah.”

You carry it into the next room and Levi quietly follows, your lunch bag in one hand and travel mug in the other.

“I’ll stop by the store tonight,” you say as you gather your coat by the door. “I saw this really good recipe last night that I’d like to try for dinner.”

Levi simply nods. Dinners are usually your preferred meal to cook, so he’s not surprised you already have something planned. “Sure.”

When you get your coat on, he hands you your things, then finishes off with a quick kiss.

After years spent co-existing together in your apartment—sharing everything from body wash to toothpaste and clothes—you would think that having his lips on yours wouldn’t still elicit such a strong feeling, but it does. It’s a wild and frenzied sensation, forming in the pit of your stomach before it swoops like a flurry up into your ribcage.

You linger by the door, starting to regret not getting up earlier so you could see him a little longer. “Thank you for getting my things ready.”

Levi nods again. “You’re welcome.”

When he leans against the doorframe, you take the moment to press another kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

A mixture of minty toothpaste and the familiar scent of your perfume swirls in the few inches between your bodies, and Levi has to take considerable effort to not lean in again.

“You’re going to be late,” he reminds you for what feels like the nth time.

But despite that, your feet stay planted in the doorway. “Say it back and I’ll go.”

“I love you too.” He rolls his eyes, but relents just the slightest bit and kisses you again. “Now, go.”

[trickphotography2]

Santa's North Island Delivery Service

Stuck at work, Bradley is missing his daughter's first Christmas Eve. But when the squadron decides to turn the hanger into Santa's Workshop, the pilot is able to sneak away to spend a little time with his girls. (Inspired by a true story; Rooster x Reader Christmas fluff)

Word count: 2.4K

Ao3 | Masterlist

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Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was officially having the worst Christmas Eve. Not only was he stuck at work doing absolutely nothing, he was missing his daughter’s first Christmas Eve. 

With his boots kicked onto his desk, he leaned back in his chair and scrolled through the photos you’d sent him throughout the night. At eight months old, Bennett was too young to really know what was going on, but it didn’t make it suck any less. He wanted to see her lying under the tree, colored lights reflecting in her eyes. (He’d already set that picture as his home screen.)

“Hey, Lieutenant?” A knock on his door drew his attention, and he looked up to see Petty Officer Second Class Wagner, one of the head mechanics, standing there. 

“Yeah?” Rooster said, sitting up. Even though he outranked the enlisted man, Wagner was one of the most respected non-commissioned officers in the squadron. To cheer up the men stuck working the night shift, he’d organized a movie night after doing a Christmas movie bracket throughout the week - National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation had barely edged out Die Hard. 

“You got anything at home that needs to be assembled before going under the tree?” 

“Huh?” 

“Any gifts for the kiddo that need to be put together? We’re getting a list of stops together for the trucks.” Rooster gave him a confused look, which made the man chuckle. “We’re bored, so we figured we’d set up some presents for everyone’s kids in the hangar. The first group of guys are heading out now to get stuff, and then we’ll swap.”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I think there’s a couple things. Let me check with my girlfriend.” With a nod, Wagner left, leaving Rooster to stare at his phone. After a moment, he called you.

“Hey, babe,” you said, answering on the third ring. He could hear babbling in the background.

“Hey. Have you started getting things together to go under the tree?”

“Not yet. We’re just finishing up bath time, and then we’re gonna get cookies out for Santa and go to bed, aren’t we, Benny girl?” 

“Any chance you can hold off for about an hour?” Bradley asked, unable to keep from smiling at the sound of his daughter giggling. 

“Are you getting off work early?” It was hard to miss the sound of hope and excitement in your voice, and he hated to dash it.

“No, but I’m gonna run home and pick up some stuff.” You hummed.

“Okay. I’ll try and keep her up. I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Alright, love you.”

“Love you too.” Hanging up the call, Bradley dropped his head and tapped the phone against his forehead. It was only your second Christmas together and the first as parents, and he was already missing things. You’d assured him it was okay and that you understood that his job sometimes meant spending time apart, but he hated it. 

“You’re a mean one, Benny Grinch,” you sang, gently bouncing your daughter as she howled. Letting your head fall back, you blew out a long breath. The crying fit couldn’t last forever. 

Though overly tired, she was fighting against going to sleep. It was a nightly battle, but one that Bradley usually helped to fight. You’d learned early on that he had what you lovingly called the Sleeper Hold - the minute Benny was tucked into her father’s arms, her eyes would start to close. Shifting her onto your shoulder, you glanced at your watch and sighed. As much as you wanted to wait to finish the bedtime routine until Bradley got home, it was getting late. “Alright, sweetie,” you cooed, grabbing your water bottle and retreating to the nursery. “Let’s get settled in.”

With the white noise machine and night light on, you settled into the rocking chair and lifted your shirt. Benny rooted for a moment before latching onto your nipple, making you inhale sharply at the pinch. Digging your toes into the carpet, you gently rocked back and forth, holding your daughter’s gaze as she ate. “Merry Christmas, Bennett,” you whispered, stroking her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed as she grunted. You closed your eyes, comforted by the warm weight of your daughter in your arms and the tugging at your breast.

“Hey.” The soft, raspy voice roused you from the trance you’d fallen into, and you lifted your head to see Bradley standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” you replied sleepily. His long legs ate up the space between you until he was beside you, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead. The familiar scratch of his mustache had your eyes fluttering closed again. 

“She done?” Bradley asked, a large hand coming down to cup your daughter’s head. 

“Should be soon.” At his touch, Benny startled from her doze, suckling hard and squirming. 

“You need anything?” 

“The sleeper hold in a minute to finish her off.” In the dim lighting, you saw Bradley grin before he leaned down again to brush his lips against yours. 

“I can do that.” As if on cue, Bennett released your breast, her breath a soft pant against your tender skin. Without a word, Bradley took her and settled her on his shoulder, patting her back. “Hey, Benny, were you good for mommy tonight?” He paced the nursery as you reached for one of the breast pads and cleaned up. When a loud burp sounded, you heard him chuckle. “That’s my girl.” 

You took a moment to appreciate the sight before you - your boyfriend in his tight khaki uniform cooing to your daughter as she rubbed her face into his shoulder to fight sleep. “How long do you have before you have to head back?”

“I’ve got about thirty minutes,” Bradley replied, turning on his heel to face you while pacing the room. “Benny girl, the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner Santa comes.”

“I’m not sure she’s old enough for that bribery to work yet.” His grin blinded as he kissed the back of her head, lightly bouncing her. 

“Gonna be fun when she is. We’ll track him with NORAD and everything.” Shaking your head, you stood and kissed both of their cheeks.

“You get her down, and I’ll start pulling out the gifts.”

“Put aside anything that needs to be put together or wrapped, and I’ll take it to the hanger. Apparently, that’s what we’re gonna do for the rest of the shift.” With a mocking salute, you left the nursery to the sound of him humming a lullaby. 

Ten minutes later, Bradley crept out of the nursery with the baby monitor in hand and joined you in grabbing the presents stashed around the house. The Daggers had dropped off their gifts throughout the week, and your family had mailed theirs. The craftsman that you’d helped Bradley purchase when he moved to North Island didn’t have the best hiding spots - it wasn’t exactly something he needed when you’d been his real estate agent - but with Benny so little, it was a problem for the future. “I think we may have overdone it,” you sighed, setting an unwrapped toy on the couch. The floor by the tree was already covered with wrapped presents.

“Nope, just enough,” Bradley chuckled, opening his arms. With a scoff, you stepped into his embrace, smiling as he swayed you. A dark spot decorated his shoulder, and you gently wiped away your daughter’s drool. “Gotta spoil my girls.”

“I really hope you kept to our budget for each other.” When he stayed silent, you pulled away and cocked an eyebrow. “Bradley Bradshaw, you stayed within the budget, right?” 

“I stayed within our Christmas budget,” he answered, his hands gliding down your back to cup your ass as his mustache tickled your throat. “Love you, baby.” 

“I love you too. Now, help me get all of this stuff under the tree. Did you want to do her stocking?” 

There was a whoop, and Bradley turned to see three guys crouched on the hanger floor cheering as they played with a racetrack. Another corner had been designated as the bike assembly space, an array of tools spread on the ground. One of the card tables had been dragged out from the break room, and it was covered with popcorn and an assortment of cookies. 

Unsure of where to go, Bradley walked towards a few other officers standing in the corner. “Hey, Rooster,” Captain “Taco” Bell said as he neared. “We were just talking about ordering pizza for everyone. Would you throw in?” 

“Yeah. Does anyone know if there’s a system here, or does it just go wherever?” 

“Wagner’s in charge,” Payback shrugged, nodding towards the NCO helping assemble a kitchen playset. “You got stuff for Benny?” 

“Just a few things. Brought some of the smaller stuff to wrap, too.” The two men quickly went to the Bronco to unload the gifts. Setting them in a pile with a couple of rolls of wrapping paper, they quickly assembled the play sets. A few other guys drifted by, helping to slot the plastic pieces together or offering to help wrap. Boxes piled up on one end of the hanger, and a sign-up sheet for folks who had larger gifts at the house that needed to be assembled was passed around. It looked like at least six families were getting swingsets or trampolines. Bradley idly wondered about setting up a swing in the backyard in the summer. In the meantime, he assembled the small slide that would be perfect for the living room.

The pizza arrived around 10:00PM, and there was a quick break. As they sat around the hangar, the Santa letter exchange happened. Wagner supplied blank papers with a printed Christmas border, and the parents swapped letters for others to write the replies. “This saved my ass one year,” Wagner shared. “My middle daughter was starting to question Santa, and boom - different handwriting. Got her for at least another year.” 

Around midnight, the squadron split into three sections - one to stay back and clean up the hanger, and two to deliver gifts and set up the presents. Bradley packed up his gifts and put them into the back of the Bronco. He was joined by three guys to set up a trampoline. Aided by headlamps, they were able to get it done in about an hour with only a few pinched fingers in the process, which was worth it to test it out. 

A trampoline was added to the Christmas list when Benny was a bit older. 

After touching base with Wagner, they headed to the second house to set up another trampoline before returning to the hangar. The third team left to assemble a swingset while they settled in to watch Die Hard for their last two hours on shift. 

Tucked away in his office, Bradley set about wrapping his last present. 

“Benny girl, look here!” you cooed, trying to get your daughter to look as you snapped pictures. Sitting in her father’s lap, she slapped the present in front of her and shrieked. Bradley laughed, quickly shifting his hold to wipe the drool from his wrist onto his sweatpants before retrieving his cup of coffee. Even with just two hours of sleep, he wasn’t willing to push back Christmas morning. After taking a sip, he set the mug down and took Benny’s hand, sliding it under the paper seam. Her hand flew up, ripping the paper.

“Good girl!” he chuckled, helping her tear the rest away to reveal stacking cups. It took about an hour to get through the presents, trading off the baby to get pictures. 

A small stack of presents surrounded you as Bradley opened his new electric razor. “Thanks, baby,” he said, crawling across the living room floor to kiss you. With one hand on Benny’s stomach to keep her upright in your lap, you cupped his cheek and ran your thumb along his scars.

“You’re welcome, babe. Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas.” Pushing onto his feet, he quickly shoved the wrapping paper into the trash bag and ran a hand through his hair. “That looks like almost everything.”

“Unless Santa left something somewhere in the back of a closet, it looks like we got it all.” 

“Hang on,” Bradley said, reaching around the back of the tree and retrieving a small box. “Looks like we missed one.” Holding it up, he glanced at the gift tag. “To Mommy, from Bennett.” 

“What?” Grinning, he sat down across from you and offered you the box, holding out his arms for the baby. A quick glance confirmed it was Bradley’s handwriting on the tag. “What’d you get me, Benny?” you asked, smiling as your daughter laughed when her father tickled her. Lifting it to your ear, you shook it gently and heard it rattle. Tearing away the paper, you laughed at the kid’s jewelry box. The ballerina twirled when you opened it to reveal a bunch of plastic necklaces, rings, and bracelets. “Oooh, fancy! I know what I’m wearing today,” you laughed, quickly putting on a pair of clip-on earrings and a necklace. 

“There’s a note,” Bradley said, leaning down to press his lips to Benny’s head. He looked a bit nervous.

And there was. Buried under the plastic was a folded-up piece of paper. Your mouth fell open when you read it.

I couldn’t get you jewelry this year, but Daddy could.

With wide eyes, you looked up to see Bradley grinning at you. “Open the drawer.” 

Slowly, you pulled the handle to reveal a diamond ring. “Bradley?”

“Will you marry me?” 

Later, when Bennett was asleep and the baby monitor was tossed onto the couch, Bradley watched the Christmas tree lights dance across your face as he took you apart slowly, savoring your taste. The ring sparkled on your finger when you pressed a hand to your mouth to muffle your moans as you shook apart under him, thighs bracketing his ears. 

Kissing his way up your body, Bradley paused to suck on a tender nipple, groaning when your nails raked his scalp. The tree shook when he continued his ascent, knocking the lower branches as he tried to reach your lips. “Fuck.” 

Laughing, you lifted your head to meet his gaze and wiped your thumb along his mustache, feeling your arousal coating the coarse hair. “Merry Christmas, Daddy.”

“Merry Christmas, Mama. Now get out from under the tree so I can unwrap my present in bed and fuck you properly.” 

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Author's Note: This was inspired by my dad and his squadron when we were stationed in Japan. He had to work overnight Christmas Eve and they ended up making a run to everyone's house on base to pick up gifts that needed to be set up. I definitely believed in Santa for another year when I didn't recognize the handwriting on the letter the Christmas morning.

The jewelry box and note are also pulled from real life. Dad went remote for a year (he was over in Korea and we were stateside) to ensure that we got orders to Florida, and came back just in time for Christmas. My sisters and I got mom the fake jewelry (we were all in high school/college) while Dad got Mom a new necklace.

Thank you for reading my (late) self-indulgent Christmas fic! I hope you enjoyed it, and my first foray into writing Rooster. And a major thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for encouraging me to write this, even if she's just dipping her toes into Bradley and would have preferred it to be Jake 😂

[rrlexchange]

"HOW ONE PAIR OF RRL DENIM JEANS MAKES IT FROM A COTTON FIELD TO YOUR CLOSET" - by Ikhtier Rustamov

When Ralph Lauren founded Double RL in 1993, he was inspired by the heritage of the American West and the train-hopping, steer-wrangling, gold-panning men who helped to settle it. “It’s not fashion, it’s real stuff,” Ralph has been known to say about the line in the years since. Nothing better embodies that uniquely American quality than a pair of blue jeans (made in the first place for the hard-wearing needs of miners and cowboys). American made jeans have always been a staple in the Double RL wardrobe, but the jeans made with the “East-West” denim, which crosses the globe in pursuit of perfection, just may be the gold standard. Here’s how a single pair comes together.

All denim is made from cotton, but not all cotton is created equal: the material can vary vastly in quality depending on where it’s sourced. RRL’s East-West denim is fabricated using premium grade cotton harvested in the state of Tennessee. The crop that grows there is renowned for its extra long, uneven fibers. When eventually spun and woven, that will translate into denim that’s supremely resilient, with a unique texture that sets it apart from the pack.

From Tennessee, the cotton is flown across the ocean to Japan. To Okayama, specifically, a city that is to denim what Memphis is to the blues. Today, some of the world’s best American denim is made in Japan, where a centuries-old tradition for indigo-dying and fabric weaving is combined with a dedication to maintaining and using vintage narrow shuttle looms which were largely dispensed with half a century ago. In the 1900s, all denim was made on these narrow shuttle looms: slow, noisy, and costly to maintain these looms created a narrow fabric with low-tension, resulting in strong and dynamic denim, rich in texture and finished on either end with a closed selvedge edge. By the 1950s, the fabric had grown so popular that most factories switched to more efficient air-jet looms, creating more product, faster, cheaper and at a lower quality.

To create our East-West denim, we partnered with a small Okayama denim mill that is a standard-bearer in a nearly lost art. The long-staple cotton is deftly ring-spun into a soft, lofty yarn, and rope dyed a red-blue shade of indigo inspired by jeans from the 1930s. Spun and dyed, the yarn is finally woven into bolts of fabric on wooden hanger-style shuttle looms, finished with an iconic red-line of yarn through the selvedge fabric edges. Off the loom, the fabric is then Sanforized, to reduce shrinkage, and finished with a proprietary process that retains the natural “loomstate” characteristics of the denim, creating a true “hand of quality”.

From one denim mecca to the next, the finished bolts are shipped over to California — the state where jeans got their start. Here the product really takes shape: the denim is cut and sewn into finished jeans manually using methods that were common from the 1940s-1960s, but have become rare today: chain-stitching, washer burrs, hidden rivets, and handset pockets and waistbands.

American-made thread and rivets hold it all together, while an open “busted” outseam on the outside of each pant leg leaves the selvedge edge visible as a hallmark of quality. For a finishing touch, the signature RRL leather patch is applied by hand.

Once assembled, the jeans are given a final once-over for detailing and distressing. A team of artisans in Los Angeles fits each individual pair onto a special form and rough them up just a bit. Hand-sanding is one of the best ways to give a patina of age, but that’s just one piece of the tool-kit: a finished pair of pants can undergo up to 50 steps before they head out the door, and that’s without even considering the variety of vintage-inspired washes that change with every season.

With this last step, East-West Denim goes from uniform fabric to a wear-ready pair of RRL jeans.

From field to factory to weekly rotation, East-West Denim comes to life when the jeans take on the life of the wearer, weathered by the elements and the inevitable abrasions that come from daily use. Eventually, whiskers above the legs and “honeycombs” behind the knees appear. The tell-tale “track” on the outer inseam manifests. A phantom outline appears on the pocket where you always put your wallet. And then they’re not just “real stuff.” They’re really yours.

[defectivevillain]

bend and break

pairing: jace wayland x masc!reader

author’s note: this is primarily jace/reader, but there’s hints of simon/reader, cause... well. i had to, okay???

there’s some canon divergence here... namely, simon doesn’t get turned into a rat, lmao. 

word count: 3.6k [ao3 version here]

“Jace. Is he really a terrible liar?”

“He’s not a liar at all. Not about important things. He’ll tell you horrible truths, but he won’t lie.” Isabelle paused before she added quietly: “That’s why it’s generally better not to ask him anything unless you know you can stand to hear the answer.”

[city of bones, p153.]

“Wake up!”

You jolt awake, quickly getting up and nearly hitting the person who woke you in the face. Your vision clears and you find yourself staring at Isabelle, who looks incredibly irritated. “Seriously? You almost hit me in the face!”

“Sorry,” you say with a slight eye roll. Isabelle was a few inches from your face when she woke you up—it’s not your fault that you nearly collided with her. You take a deep breath and look at the clock in the corner of the room. It’s getting late—and, subsequently, closer to Magnus Bane’s party. You grimace at the thought. You need to go to this party if you want more information on the block that was placed on your mind. You know that, yet... there's a premonition prickling up your skin. What if you don’t like what you find?

“You need party clothes,” Isabelle remarks, breaking you out of your thoughts. She crosses one leg over the other and levels you with a scrutinizing glance. You look down at your worn T-shirt and jeans, feeling self-conscious.

“I was going to wear this,” you admit, despite knowing that you’ll be practically murdered by Isabelle for the thought. Sure enough, the Shadowhunter lets out a laugh.

“You’re hilarious!” Isabelle smirks mischievously. She grabs your arm and hauls you up to a standing position. You’re beginning to feel overwhelmed, especially when Isabelle swings her closet doors open to reveal an unnecessary amount of clothes. “What? I need to be prepared for any occasion.” She reaches out and grabs a few hangers, before throwing them on the bed for you to see. You turn to look at the clothes.

There’s a crisp white dress shirt with a rather low neckline and satin black pants. Somehow, there are chains that fall from the waistband. On the ground near the bed, there’s a pair of black platform boots. “Izzy, this is…” You break off, unable to find the words.

“Amazing, right?” She grins, before you can say something you’ll likely regret. “Meet in the hallway once you’re done changing.” Isabelle winks at you and she’s gone as quick as she came. You don’t even get a chance to object- which, in hindsight, was likely the reason for her quick departure.

“Well then,” you remark to no one in particular. For a moment, you just stare at the assembled outfit. You’ve never quite worn anything like it before. Taking a deep breath, you begin to change. Thankfully, the sizing is perfect. The shirt isn’t indecently tight or obscenely revealing. Even the boots fit well. You’re a bit impressed with Isabelle’s curation of your outfit—although you’d never tell her that. After a few minutes of psyching yourself up in the mirror, you walk out to the hallway. Unsurprisingly, Simon is lingering outside. He seems to be the only one ready. When you enter, he looks up from the ground and his eyes widen.

“What are you wearing?” You blink at Simon and for several seconds, the two of you stare at each other in silence. It takes you a moment to process his statement.

“Clothes, I think,” you respond sardonically. Simon stares at you in disbelief. His eyes are flitting from your eyes to your face and he seems restless, for some reason. It’s not like you’re wearing anything too crazy. Then again, the outfit was Isabelle’s creation. It was bound to be different from your own style.

“What, do I look bad?” Your heart is racing and you look down at your outfit doubtfully. Who are you kidding? You probably look foolish wearing this.

“No, of course not-” Simon stammers. It seems like he’s having a difficult time getting the words out. Before he can continue stumbling through a justification, another figure joins you in the hall. You turn to the side, only to find Jace leaning against the wall. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and ripped jeans. Jace looks over and regards you with interest, as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

“I think you look good,” Jace remarks. His eyes rove up your figure and it takes every ounce of concentration you have to remain unaffected by his heated gaze. “Great, even. But there’s something missing...” Jace procures a dagger from his jacket and hands it to you. You extend your palm and for a second, the Shadowhunter’s fingers brush against yours and a shiver rolls down your spine.

“I don’t know how to use this,” you admit. The weight of the weapon feels unnatural. The metal glimmers when it catches the light, and there’s something illegible engraved on the hilt. It must be a Rune.

“You will,” Jace asserts, with nothing but confidence in his voice. You’re not sure why he has confidence in you, of all people. You drag your thumb along the dagger and eventually settle for putting it in the conveniently located strap on your boot. “It’s in your blood.”

“Just great,” Simon mutters, but his remark seems to pass unnoticed by Jace. You send Simon a helpless glance, which Simon returns with a strangely irritated one. Is he mad at you? You’re not quite sure what you did, if that is the case.  

“Although…” Jace takes a few steps towards you. You watch in mute confusion as he reaches out, his fingers dragging along the skin of your collarbone. The Shadowhunter is impossibly close to you and his breaths hit your neck. Just as you begin to grow nervous, Jace’s hand falls to the button below your collar and he unbuttons it, revealing even more of your collarbone in the process. “There.” Simon lets out an inexplicably strangled sound. Meanwhile, Jace looks pleased with himself as he stares at your outfit. You’re beginning to grow uncomfortable with all the attention. Thankfully, Isabelle and Alec enter the hallway before long and the group’s attention is diverted. You can feel Jace’s gaze burning into the side of your face, but you pretend not to notice.

The journey towards the listed address is a bit perilous. Navigating New York transportation is hard enough on its own, let alone when you’re with a bunch of super beings that don’t venture into the rest of society often. You’re grateful for Simon’s presence, otherwise you’re certain you would’ve gotten lost already.

After the rather entertaining subway ride, the five of you get up to the street and start walking. The streetlamps are warm, but they flicker out every few seconds.  As you walk, you notice a building up ahead with colorful lights reflecting out onto the sidewalk. Alec points it out and turns to Jace. “Think we’re in the right place?”

“Yes,” Jace responds, freezing in place. Since you’re following him, you just barely avoid bumping into him. The group pauses and Jace stares at something off to the side. You have to squint for a few moments, until you eventually see a sleek black motorcycle. Jace must sense your confusion, because he continues to speak. “Vampires.” Unfortunately, that’s the only explanation you’re given. You shrug and look over to Alec, who seems to be feeling more restless with each passing minute.

“Let’s go,” Alec orders, turning his back and continuing to walk towards the apartment in the distance. Isabelle follows after him, leaving Simon, Jace, and you. Jace not-so-subtly pockets the key to the motorcycle and you raise an eyebrow at him when he isn’t looking. You glance at Simon to see if he noticed, but it seems he missed it. Jace returns to his position at your side and he looks to be radiating smugness; you can’t help but roll your eyes. The three of you walk in an awkward line, with you in the middle and Simon and Jace on either side of you. Fortunately, the awkward and tense walk doesn’t last long, as you soon catch up with Isabelle and Alec on the apartment’s front porch. Isabelle doesn’t hesitate to knock on the door with a few swift raps of her fist.

Within a few moments, the door swings open to reveal Magnus Bane. The warlock is wearing a finely-tailored suit and his eyes glimmer, thanks to the glittery eyeliner accentuating them. His eyes flit about your group, before he eventually throws his hands up in the air and walks away. Izzy seems to take that as an invitation, and she walks in. The rest of you follow behind her, significantly more apprehensive. At least, Simon and you are apprehensive. Jace and Alec seem a little out of their element, too, but they don’t look overwhelmed.  

“You alright?” Simon whispers, once the others split up and go off in different directions. You can hardly hear him over the music that vibrates along your skin and shakes the floor. There are interesting characters everywhere—vampires, faeries, and more. You take a deep breath and try to summon some confidence.

“Yeah,” you nod. You’ll be fine. You’re certainly nervous to speak with Magnus Bane, but right now, you’re feeling okay. “You?”

“Yes,” Simon sighs after a moment. His eyes catch on something and his gaze suddenly sharpens. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, Simon is reaching out to you. He fumbles with your collar and buttons what Jace had unbuttoned. He adjusts your collar and folds it down, before taking a step back to admire his work. “You look really nice; I meant to say that earlier.”

“Thanks,” you smile. Simon looks as if there’s more he wants to say, but he shakes his head and evidently abandons the notion. Meanwhile, you watch with thinly-veiled amusement as Magnus Bane flits about the room, talking to every single person in sight. He’s rather popular, you think to yourself. He also seems pretty familiar. For some reason, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve seen him before. Unfortunately, even after a few minutes of looking at him, you can’t make the connection.

Eventually, Jace and Alec join Simon and you. Isabelle then grabs Simon and practically drags him away, leaving you, Alec, and Jace. Magnus Bane makes his way back to you three and Jace explains everything. Well, he actually doesn’t explain anything—instead deigning to vaguely threaten the warlock if he doesn’t comply. Thankfully, Bane seems to be in a forgiving mood, because he just sighs before leading you to a separate room in the house. Normally, you’d be tempted to look at your rather extravagant surroundings. Now, though, you can only focus on your mother. Nothing else matters.

“You signed my mind,” you blurt out once the three of you are settled and away from prying eyes. You’ve never been the best at beating around the bush. Magnus Bane stares at you as if trying to decide what to say. He then gestures with his hand and a glittery blue signature appears above your head. It shines for a brief moment before fading into nothing.

“Ah, yes, a rather embarrassing moment of hubris...” Bane grimaces. His eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of the room. You bite your lip and try to push down the doubt curdling in your chest. “Alas, it was requested of me.”

“By who?” You’re pretty sure that you already know the answer to that question. You’re hoping that your expectations are wrong. You want nothing more than to be proven wrong. Your heart races out of your chest as you wait for an answer.

“Your mother,” the warlock says softly. He stares at you, clearly expecting a reaction. You stare blankly at him in response. For a moment, there’s a thick tension that settles in the air. It’s gone when Magnus squints at you before continuing to speak. “You don’t seem surprised.” He states.

“Unfortunately, I figured my mother was hiding more from me than I knew,” you remark, clenching your fists at your sides. Truthfully, you’re rather angry. But, you don’t want Magnus Bane or any of the others to know that. Your voice is shaky, but the tears you want to shed aren’t falling down your cheeks. You stare at Jace, who looks troubled. You’re sure he expected this turn of events. It’s likely Alec did too, if the unsurprised look on his face is any indication.

Magnus continues to explain the circumstances behind your mother’s work with him. Eventually, it gets to the point where you can’t handle it. Thinking about your mother’s willing betrayal makes you sick to your stomach. Even the prospect of learning about Runes again through the Grey Book doesn’t lift your spirits.

“I need some air,” you announce, before stepping out into the hallway and following it further down. Luckily, there’s a door at the very end of it that leads to a balcony. You step out onto the balcony and close the door behind you. The night air is cold against your skin, but you rest your arms against the railing and soak it in regardless.

“You okay?” It isn't long before Jace sidles up to your side. You wouldn’t have even noticed his presence unless he made himself known—his approach was entirely soundless. You put a hand to your temple and try to collect your thoughts. “You didn’t really react to Bane’s confession.”

“I know,” you whisper against the wind. You’re almost hoping that Jace doesn’t hear it. “Is it bad that I was expecting it? What would be worse–keeping the naive and foolish belief that my mother didn’t hide anything from me, or distrusting her in her last moments?”

The realization of everything crashes down on you and you bury your head in your hands. Your own mother hid an entire life from you. You could’ve been living a completely different life. The worst part? You wouldn’t have even known, if your mother wasn’t brutally taken from your home. The night air suddenly feels far colder.

“We’ll figure this out,” Jace asserts, staring at an unknown point in the distance. There’s nothing but determination on his face. “I’ll help you find her, I promise.” Jace places a hand on your shoulder. His grip is tight but reassuring all at once. Your doubts slowly diminish at that.

After an immeasurable amount of time spent staring at the sky, the two of you return to the party and find the rest of the group. Isabelle and Simon are red-faced, evidently from all the dancing. Alec was brooding in a corner and he proceeds to talk Jace’s ear off the moment he sees him. You bite your lip and turn to Simon, who motions towards the door. You nod and walk to the front door with him. Everyone else seems to get the hint and they all follow you. You're about to escape without incident when a familiar warlock asks you where you’re going.

“I would say we’ve overstayed our welcome, but I get the feeling we weren’t welcome in the first place,” you remark wryly, shoving your hands in your pockets. Magnus’s eyes light up and a grin overtakes his face.

“Correct, darling!” The warlock exclaims, looking quite eager to get rid of you all. “Hm. Tolerable Nephilim are hard to find these days...” Magnus breaks off, his gaze focusing on Alec, “Charming ones, too. Call me?” Alec sputters and stares at the warlock in disbelief. Jace hauls him off and together, all of you walk away from the apartment. Embarrassingly enough, you nearly fall asleep on the subway ride back. Other than that, though, it’s a rather uneventful trip back to the Institute.

Alec is quick to walk away from the group upon entering the Institute. Isabelle makes a beeline for the kitchen and Simon follows her, clearly still a bit entranced by her. Jace and you are left standing in the entryway, and it doesn’t take long for the Shadowhunter to break the silence between you. “Want to go for a ride?” Jace grins, pulling out the keys he stole earlier.

“Sure,” you respond nonchalantly. Jace stares at you with a scrutinizing expression before he jangles the keys in front of your face again. You try to hit them away, but he reacts quickly and you miss. “What? You weren't exactly subtle about stealing that, Jace.” The Shadowhunter looks mildly impressed that you noticed. He then shrugs casually, before motioning for you to follow behind him.

“I know a shortcut,” Jace remarks without explanation, tugging you to follow behind him. He walks up to one of the walls in the Institute and moves his stele in a strange pattern. The bare wall glows and you’re suddenly standing in front of a Portal. Jace smirks and turns back to you. “Make sure you’re visualizing the apartment from earlier. Then…” The Shadowhunter breaks off and leans backwards, falling into the wall and disappearing from sight. You roll your eyes at his dramatics, before taking a cautionary step into the Portal. You make sure to visualize the apartment as Jace said—the tall trees looming over the sidewalk, the brick laden with ivy and moss.

Your vision spins and you’re suddenly thrown forward. You stumble with the change in momentum and almost fall to the ground; thankfully, Jace grabs you and hauls you up. You don’t have to look at him to know that there’s a devious smirk on his face.

“It wouldn’t have killed you to explain that to me a little better,” you say, looking around at your immediate surroundings. Sure enough, you’re standing on the sidewalk right outside the apartment where the party was held. You spot the motorcycle a few feet away and start walking towards it.

“And where’s the fun in that?” Jace quips, falling in step next to you. His eyes light up when the two of you are close enough to the motorcycle, and he makes an exaggerated jangling sound with the key in his hand. For a moment, the Shadowhunter simply stares at the vehicle—as if taking in all of its glory–before stepping over it and sitting down on the seat. He then looks at you expectantly; you sigh and sit behind him. Jace seems eager to drive the motorcycle, as he revs up the engine dramatically. You roll your eyes again—a gesture you tend to repeat whenever in Jace’s presence. “Hold on, if you don’t want to die.”

Well, that’s only mildly concerning. You grip Jace’s waist tightly, ignoring the smug remark that he makes at that. For a moment, the vehicle stalls, before it roars to life and the two of you are speeding off. You’re going so fast that the buildings around you blur together. Jace lets out an excited whoop and goes even faster. You’re practically melding into him at this point, with how tightly you’re holding onto him. You really don’t want to die by way of a motorcycle. It’s a wonderful sensation, but it’s also extremely disorienting.

An immeasurable amount of time later, Jace is pulling the motorcycle over to a seemingly abandoned spot behind the Institute. Finally, the death machine comes to a stop and you’re free to stand up on solid ground. “Well, that was... crazy,” you choke out, feeling significantly ruffled and off-kilter.

“I should steal things more often,” Jace remarks. You shake your head at him disbelievingly. You’re not quite sure how that’s the lesson he learned from all of this. You place a hand on the motorcycle behind you, feeling the need to keep your balance. Adjusting to a normal speed after that high-speed ride is a bit of a challenge, to say the least. Jace stares at you with a heated gaze and his lips fall into a flat line.

“That mundane…” He sighs, looking askance for a moment before his gaze falls to you once more. Jace’s eyebrows furrow as he glares at something just below your eye level. Before you can ask him to elaborate, the Shadowhunter is leaning impossibly closer. “He’s undoing all of my hard work.” Jace reaches out and unbuttons the top button of your shirt again.

“What are you doing?” Your voice sounds strained, betraying your inner panic and confusion. Thankfully, Jace doesn’t point that out. His hand does, however, linger on your neck. Is he checking for your pulse or something?

“Your heart is racing,” Jace then hums, as casually as if he were talking about the weather. You take a deep breath in.

“You’re standing a little close,” you manage to choke out. Jace only smiles eerily at that, taking another step towards you. You’re forced to sit back on the motorcycle at his sudden proximity. The Shadowhunter stares down at you, golden eyes glimmering with complexity.

“You know…” Jace trails off, his eyes alight with that familiar glow. He pulls up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal a rather old-fashioned watch. You wonder if it was a gift or an artifact of his family. That would make the most sense. Jace squints down at it and you follow his gaze, surprised to find that it’s past midnight. “It’s your birthday, now.”

“How did you know?” You frown, surprised that he knew that. You don’t remember telling him. Maybe he did some investigative work? No, that doesn’t quite sound like something he would do. Your thought process continues to spiral, until Jace breaks through the silence.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” He questions. Answering a question with another question… Typical Jace behavior. You inhale slowly.

“I didn’t want it to be a big deal,” you admit. To be fair, it’s only a few minutes past midnight. You haven’t had the opportunity to tell anyone, save for Jace himself. You’re about to say that when you notice the strange expression on Jace’s face. He looks conflicted.

“Hm,” Jace murmurs, clearly not convinced. “Well, happy birthday.” He remarks, his hand cradling your jaw for the briefest of moments. Just as his hand falls, Jace leans forward and kisses you on the cheek. Before you can contemplate what just happened, he’s walking away and slipping out of sight. You’re left standing outside in complete disbelief, next to a stolen motorcycle under the midnight sky.

sry if the ending was a lil abrupt… hehe oopsie.

Izzy definitely has some badass gender neutral clothing and y’all can't tell me otherwise. 🙏🙏

anyway, thx for reading <3

[let-your-chaos-explode]

I Got You, Babe - Chapter 3: Confusion

Lady Leonora Lesso woke early to the sound of birds chirping through the open window of her tower. Sunlight streamed through the window and settled merrily against the bed. 

Lesso slowly blinked open her eyes against the sunlight, anticipating a massive hangover as punishment for the amount of alcohol she had drank the night before. She groaned, reached for an object to throw at the obnoxiously loud birds, and paused. There was no headache. And she remembered. 

The birdsong continued, and against the melody a few knocks sounded against the wooden door of her bedroom. Knock, KNOCK, knock.

“Rise and shine Lady Lesso! It’s a beautiful morning and you are LATE for the students’ return!” Professor Dovey called from behind the door. “You have ten minutes before our school address!”

Cold dread settled in the pit of her stomach as the sound of Dovey’s heels faded down the stone corridor. 

Lesso kicked off the covers and slowly rolled out of bed. With apprehension, she opened the wardrobe and her gaze settled on the same outfit from yesterday hanging pristinely and unworn. She snatched it off the hanger and angrily got dressed. And with a sharp flick of her wrist, her make-up and hair were done. 

“Let’s get this over with.” She sighed.

She marched along the bridge from the central tower. Confusion, anger, and admittedly a little bit of fear clouded her thoughts. Why was this happening to her? Did someone curse her? Was she going insane?

She violently slammed open the doors to the assembly hall. The flinching reactions of the students and staff were ignored as she stalked to the main podium. 

“How good of you to join me.” She said as Professor Dovey opened her mouth. “Yes, I know. ” 

Dovey’s mouth clicked shut with a taken-aback expression loud on her face. “Do I say it that often?” 

“Often enough.” Lesso muttered as Dovey plastered a wide and entirely fake smile upon her face, addressing the students. 

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t have to if you were ever on time.” She hissed out of the corner of her smile. 

Lesso crossed her arms and shrugged. It wasn’t like she was ever going to change her ways. 

The roar of the students continued to climb as they entered the hall. Lesso eyed the clock on the far wall and idly noted that they were running behind schedule. Dovey must have done the same. 

“Shall we get this show on the road?” Dovey asked her, the implication clear in her voice. 

“I thought I’d let you do the honors.” 

“Welcome back, students!” The Dean of Good called across the auditorium. 

But the deafening volume, if possible, grew louder. She shot Lesso an imploring look that was promptly ignored. 

“Attention!” She shouted, attempting to imitate the authority usually present in the Dean of Evil. 

A few Ever heads turned in response. 

“ATTENTION!” She shrieked, slamming her golden staff against the floor. 

Immediately, the chatter died down. 

“Well done, princess. There’s hope for you yet.” Lesso smirked. 

“Thank you, Lady Lesso.” Dovey smiled brightly. “Welcome back, students! I hope everyone enjoyed their time away from school and got to enjoy some rest and relaxation. Today will be a day of reorientation. We will resume our regularly scheduled classes after breakfast. Please refer to the schedules handed out to you before break.”

Lesso mouthed silently along to Dovey’s speech. After a beat of silence, the blonde looked at her. 

“Do you have anything else to add?”

“Nope!” She said with a loud pop of her lips. 

Dovey looked at her quizzically before returning to address the children.  “Copies have also been posted in the main halls of each castle and in your personal dormitories. You are dismissed! Have a wonderful first day back!”

The students rose from the bleachers and began streaming out the door. Lady Lesso stood to follow them. 

“I’ll see you at the staff meeting after breakfast. Don’t worry, I won’t be late.” She called over her shoulder, missing the unnerved expression left on Dovey’s face as she exited the hall. 

Lesso stopped and waited at the junction of the main corridor and the hallway leading to the dining hall. She leaned her back against the stone wall and counted to three before sticking her cane into the walkway. Perfectly timed, Emma Anemone rounded the corner and tripped over the walking stick and crashed to the ground. 

“Oh, Professor Anemone! I’m so sorry.” Lesso cried with exaggeratedly feigned remorse. “I’m sure that wouldn’t have happened if you had been watching where you were going.”

She hummed sagely like she had just imparted some grand, life-changing advice. 

Emma rolled her eyes and with a stupid amount of grace, picked herself up off the floor and adjusted her dress.

“Are you satisfied?” Anemone asked with a bitter edge to her tone. 

“Very.” Lesso nodded succinctly. 

Emma cocked her head and scrutinized her from head to toe. 

“See something you like?”

“I see you , Red. I see the sad little girl inside. And some day, you might realize that every effort you have put into making everyone else around you feel low is because that’s what you feel. Maybe then you’ll realize that not once has it done anything to lift you any higher. You are in the same place now that you were when you started. Maybe, one day, you’ll understand that some of us have been trying to simply accompany you along the way. I really do hope you realize that before you end up completely alone and just as irrelevant as you always feared you would be.”

Leonora’s eyes narrowed and she lunged for the historian, grabbing her by the flared, pink sleeves. 

“What the fuck did you do to me?” She hissed in a rage. 

Anemone pried Lesso’s fingers off her dress and shoved her lightly away, confusion plain on her usually impassive face. 

“Have a good day, Lady Lesso.” She said dismissively. 

Emma gave her a wide berth and did not take her eyes off of the Evil Dean until she had rounded the corner, shaking her head incredulously as she made the turn. 

Lady Lesso slumped uncharacteristically against the wall and pulled at her hair in frustration. She abandoned the idea of breakfast and instead made for the library in the School of Evil. Clearly, she was cursed. Though, even as an expert on curses and death traps, she felt way out of her league. Maybe the beauty teacher had nothing to do with it. It was not in the realm of “good” magic, after all. But the words felt as if they had been carved into her brain and she was left feeling distinctly haunted. 

She poured over book after book on curses, but none provided any answers about re-living the same day. She did find a simple text on enchanted tattoos that gave her pause. If she was doomed to relive this day over and over again, would permanent changes carry over? She hadn’t yet noticed any consequences from the actions of her last trials. Lesso twirled her brightly glowing purple finger and with a hiss, a small raven appeared at her wrist. 

__________________________________________________________

“You’re late!” Dovey hissed as Lesso found her seat. 

“Better late than Ever.” She answered, rolling her eyes. 

A brief, glazed look flitted across Dovey’s face before she gathered herself to address the staff. “Thank you everybody for joining me for our quarterly staff meeting!”

“Let’s get this over with.” Lesso grunted. 

“We don’t have much to discuss since our previous meeting. Lady Lesso and I just wanted to follow up with everybody regarding the unification of classes and to problem-solve any hiccups.” 

Hands waved in the air and the staff all at once began to talk over one another. 

“SHUT UP!” She shouted over the dull roar, startling the participants into silence. “Let me guess…Yuba, your pea brain can’t figure out how to get the students from sabotaging one another, other than a shared grade. Beauty teacher wants to discontinue the curriculum and teach sex education instead. And Espada is incompetent and can’t figure out that his teaching methods are garbage.” 

Owlish, dumbfounded blinks stared back at her. 

“Was I right? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Well…I don’t know that it needed to be worded quite so rudely.” Dovey stuttered. 

“No, I won’t teach the course.” Lesso continued, pointing an accusing finger at Anemone. “And you need to introduce girls from both sides into your class, Espada. And you need to adapt your teaching to their individual strengths and weaknesses. That should be common sense.” 

Still, her audience gaped. Before the swordsman could open his mouth to question her, she met his eyes. 

“You want to know how I know…Let’s just call it intuition.” 

“Lady Lesso, that was very insightful advice.” Dovey added from her seat, attempting to break the tension. 

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Lesso asked sarcastically. 

Deep, chocolate eyes cut over to Lesso’s and firmly held her gaze. 

“I never said that I was. I believe I was offering a compliment.” 

The undercurrent of defensive hurt laced Dovey’s words. Embarrassment crept in Lesso’s chest and she was once again caught off guard by the Good Dean’s support. She averted her eyes and cleared her throat uncomfortably. 

“In the interest of the students’ education, I will offer some assistance in teaching Espada’s class.”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Dovey said warmly. 

_____________________________________________________________

Lesso started her first round of classes with a simple textbook on each desk. She refused to suffer through the agony of the practical with students already so far behind in the curriculum. She very pointedly ignored the groans of protest and enjoyed the silent study hall instead. 

“When do we actually get to the poisons part of Potions and Poisons?” 

Lesso launched a paperweight into the center of the room. 

“Get out!”

The students scattered like pearls off a broken string and she was alone again. Lesso pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply into the empty classroom. A headache was forming between her eyes and the exhaustion of her situation started to settle in. What was she missing? Why was this happening to her? 

The clock tower chimed noon and as if perfectly synched, her stomach growled in expectation. She trudged across the bridge to the dining hall and scanned the table for a vacant chair. Absently, she noted she was significantly earlier than “yesterday” and the crowd was much larger. Lesso’s eyes settled on the only empty chair at the table, next to Dovey.  Across the hall, her doe eyes shifted from whoever she was talking with and met Lesso’s unintentional stare. Her face brightened and she patted the seat next to her welcomingly. 

An unidentifiable feeling squirmed in Lesso’s belly. Her eyes darted around the room for a moment before her feet betrayed her. 

“Lady Lesso, good afternoon!” Dovey said brightly as Lesso hesitantly dropped into the vacant chair. 

She flushed warmly under the incredulous stares of the other staff members present and did not return the greeting. She filled her plate with the lackluster grilled chicken and some sad looking green beans. 

“It’s rather bland, wouldn’t you say?” Dovey whispered out of the corner of her mouth. 

Lesso watched the fairy godmother cut at the meat on her plate and push it around convincingly. She allowed a soft hum of agreement to be heard over the scraping of the cutlery. 

“Thank you for volunteering to help with this afternoon’s class.” Dovey tried again to elicit conversation. 

“If your teachers demonstrated any semblance of common sense or ability, I wouldn’t have had to.” Lesso barked and internally cringed. 

As the words fell from her lips, she suddenly desired to take them back. Why were conversations with this woman so impossible lately?

The same tight smile from before pulled at Dovey’s face and her gaze averted uncomfortably to the tasteless meal. Unfamiliar shame crawled up Lesso’s back at having put that expression on her face. She liked the genuine smiles better.

Wait, what?

"Yes, well, we all still have things to work on. Myself, included.” Dovey answered distantly. “Good luck with your afternoon.” 

The Dean of Good stood and cleared her plate. 

“See you later.” Lesso said lamely, watching her go. 

Storian, she wanted to slap herself. That was just as bad as her first go at it. And she didn’t even know why she wanted her conversation with the infuriating woman to not go poorly. Maybe it was those stupid wish fish getting into her head. 

“Well, that went well.” 

Lesso flinched violently and whirled around in her seat to glare at the one person who would dare to make a comment. Emma graced her with a self-satisfied grin and lowered herself fluidly into Dovey’s now-vacant seat. 

“What the fuck do you know, beauty teacher?” Lesso scoffed, shoving her plate away angrily. 

“A great deal more than you give me credit for, Red.” 

Lesso’s eyes cut sharply back to regard the historian from her periphery. 

“Clarissa is an Ever , Red. She thrives on compliments, pleasantness, and genuine conversation.” Anemone spoke as if she were talking to a toddler. 

“Are you telling me she wants me to sit here and tell her she’s pretty?” Lesso asked flatly. 

“Do you?” Emma interrogated. 

“Do I what?”

“Think that she’s pretty?”

“I don’t have time for this.” 

The thought was absurd. She had nothing but time! But she certainly did not want to be a part of this trainwreck of a conversation any longer. Lesso pushed her chair away from the table and reveled in the series of cringes as the feet screeched against the floor. 

___________________________________________________________

She didn’t bother observing Espada’s miserable attempts at instruction. She met him on the lawn and promptly told him to sit down and shut up. 

“Save your petty fighting for the battlefield. Use the opportunity we are giving you to hone your strengths and purge your weaknesses! Win or lose, these matches are supposed to teach you about survival. Consider it practice, because in life, there are no do-overs.”

She fought the shudder that threatened to break free at her own lecture. She matched the boys into more optimal pairs, learning from her previous attempt and set them upon each other. 

“Espada, where are the girls?” She questioned him during the reprieve. 

“Princesses do not belong on the battlefield, witch.” He said pompously. 

Her lip curled in abject disgust and the tip of her cane roughly found the center of his chest. 

“Have you learned nothing in the past year?” She snarled. “Any one of my Never girls could crush your Princes in a duel…in no time flat.”

Espada gave an unbothered shrug and slapped her cane away. “Prove it.”

Already on edge from the way her day was going, Lesso shucked her coat in a rage and snatched up a sword from the pile. 

“Let’s do this.”

The commotion drew the attention of the students practicing and the clang of steel faded as they lowered their arms to watch. Lesso and Espada bowed respectively and each took up a differing readying stance. The Dean of Evil adopted a more rounded position: she leaned lightly back into her bad leg with her good leg forward, and maintained a two handed grasp on the sword positioned across her body with the hilt anchored at her hip. Espada took up a more traditional posture, with the sword far out in front of him in a long point stance. 

She didn’t have to wait long. The consistent brashness of Evers came through and he lunged. The attack was easy enough to dodge as she pivoted on her forward leg and maintained her position. He swung high and she parried. Lesso allowed him to push her backward a few paces. With a few more carefully positioned ducks and dodges, she finally had him where she wanted him…staring directly into the afternoon sun. 

Sweat had started to collect at his hairline and his collar from the exertion of his offensive attacks and from maintaining the forward hold of his sword. In a flurry of swift slashes, she danced around the falling arc of his sword and tapped his flank with the broad flat of her steel as his weapon clattered to the ground. 

A slow series of claps erupted from the student audience and a piercing whistle highlighted her victory. 

“That was awesome, ma’am!” One of the Ever boys complimented. 

Lesso threw down her sword and lifted a sculpted eyebrow at her opponent. Espada scoffed and stalked off the field. 

“Worse than children.” She muttered, shaking her head. “Class dismissed!”

She snatched up her discarded cane and limped heavily back to the office. She hissed and cringed at every stair she was forced to climb, and in heels. 

“She was so caught up in the routine of her day, she almost missed the presence of the Dean for Good at the tower window.” The Storian narrated as she walked by. “Her steps faltered and her sharp gaze cut suspiciously to the quill.”

“Are you writing about me?” Lesso snapped, sounding mildly unhinged to her own ears. 

Her cane cracked loudly against the floor as she stomped over to the book. 

“Her turbulent green eyes searched the page for any helpful information, but found nothing of use.”

“Stupid fucking feather.” She hissed. 

The golden quill poked her roughly in the shoulder as if in reprimand and remained poised threateningly. 

“Alright, I’m going!” Lesso surrendered with narrowed eyes. 

She shoved open the doors to the office, immediately looking to the window to find Dovey looking through the pane. 

“Don’t you have class?” She asked as she collapsed at her own desk, opening the decanter of bourbon. 

Dovey eyed the alcohol with distaste but didn’t comment. “I have a free period.”

Lesso’s glass paused midway to her mouth and she raised a questioning eyebrow. “I didn’t know that.”

“I don’t usually spend it doing paperwork.” Dovey said with a self-deprecating smile as she gestured to her disastrous desk. “But I just had this odd feeling that I should be up here today. It was rather persistent, actually.”

Her smile faded to a pensive frown. 

Lesso’s eyes darted to the doors leading to the antechamber and back to Dovey. “Have you paid any attention to the Storian lately?”

“I don’t typically pay it any mind. The words just tend to fade into background noise, if I’m honest.” Dovey confessed. 

Lesso gave her a noncommittal hum and poured herself another glass. 

“You’ll fill up before dinner.” Dovey said quietly, gesturing with her chin to the glass. 

Lesso knocked it back and shrugged. “I probably wasn’t going to dinner, anyway.” 

Dovey pierced her with a scrutinizing look. Her soulful eyes looked sad and the intensity of her stare made Lesso squirm. 

“Doesn’t that ever make you feel lonely?” She finally asked. 

Lesso swallowed thickly against the nausea that lurched in her throat. The question felt entirely too on the nose and she fought back the eerie feelings it provoked. 

“I am a Never, Dove. To be a Never is to be alone.” She rasped into the rim of her glass. 

“It doesn’t have to be.” Dovey replied simply. 

The fairy godmother rocked on her feet and cleared her throat. The silence settled heavily in the air and neither Dean knew how to move forward. 

“I am going to go freshen up before dinner.” Dovey finally said. “There’s always a seat for you next to me, if you change your mind.”

She offered one last smile and turned on her heel before striding through the door. 

Lesso nursed her glass for a few minutes more. Truthfully, dinner did not sound appealing in the slightest. The cacophony of students and staff in the crowded hall was enough to make her want to stab her own ears on a good day. And today certainly was not a good day. And yet, inexplicably, she did not want to disappoint the other woman…something she seemed to do every time she opened her mouth. 

No, today was scrapped already. She just wanted this nightmare to be over. Lesso eyed her empty glass and sighed deeply before placing it hard on the desk. No more. 

She glanced at the hideous clock and decided to take a walk. It was earlier than she had been, but she wanted some time alone at the lake before Dovey would inevitably come by. 

She forced herself out of the chair and into the rapidly approaching night. The sun was sinking behind the broad backdrop of the castles, casting hues of red and orange against the sky. Objectively, it was beautiful. But Lesso couldn’t be bothered to notice. 

Her legs carried her over the well-worn paths and to the edge of the lake. She sank heavily into the damp earth and glared at the softly rippling water. 

“Did you do this to me?” She asked the wish fish below, but her reflection staring back at her was the only thing that she saw. 

Lesso reached out a hesitant hand to the surface and let a slender finger break the tension. Again, Dovey’s glowing face formed in the magical glow of the wish fish. Her smile was soft and wistful. Lesso’s heart clenched at the almost sad look depicted in her eyes. It was the same look she gave her in their conversation earlier. 

“Nevers can’t love, you stupid fish.” She bit out angrily. 

The picture shifted then. She saw herself, unmistakable except for the glowing smile and twinkling eyes. Her likeness cradled Dovey’s face so gently and captured her lips in an unbreakable kiss. Dovey’s hands came up to cover her own and those sad eyes fluttered in pure bliss. 

Lesso gasped and snatched her hand from the water as if she had been burned. She stumbled back from the water’s edge and breathed in deep through her nose to quell the rising panic. 

“No. You know what, I don’t need to take life advice from a couple of enchanted guppies.” She snarled. 

Lesso continued grumbling and she stomped back to her chambers. The sun had long set behind the trees, and in the dark she careened into a warm body. 

“Fuck me, this happens way too often to be natural.” She groaned from the hard, cold ground of  the stone bridge. 

“Lesso! I’m so sorry! I was just on my way down to the lake and I was not watching where I was going.”

Concerned, Dovey stared down at her, offering a hand to help her up. 

“Nope!” Lesso shouted, hauling herself to her feet and brushing past Dovey. 

She practically sprinted up the invisible stairs and to the safety of her bedroom. Behind the closed door, she slid to the floor and bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a scream. She traced a finger over the fresh ink at her wrist, praying for answers. Slowly, and then all at once, she had an idea. 

“You can’t start the day over if you don’t sleep!” 

She lunged for the bedside table and was immediately grateful for the change in routine of the day’s morning. Her hands found the small clock, clutching it tightly to her chest. It was nearing eight PM. Only twelve hours to go before this hellscape would start over. 

She could manage that. 

Next Chapter - Chapter 4

Previous Chapter - Chapter 2

[k00299393]

Movement

Fashion & Textiles

I brought in some old items of clothing from home with the aim of creating part of a piece of clothing. As this time I was dealing with sadness I referred back to my daughters bedroom (perfectly kitted out for self soothing in times of stress or sadness) and it brought me to the hanger on the back of her door. And there again was a selection of hooded and non hooded soft textiles. And I remember back to covid, we are in lockdown, everyone is feeling down, stressed, worried and low and behold what is the next must have item to have in your closet?

The Oodie

The Snuggy blanket (Opened back) evolved into the must have item of covid the Oodie. Davie Fogarty launched the Oodie in 2018 and then his company by 2021. And in 2021 Penney's launched the more affordable dupe The Snuddie. So I wanted to make a hood, of sorts.

So I discussed my idea with Mairead and Giordana, Giordana suggested using a faux fur coat I had brought from home and instead of completely dismantling it for its fabric I could alter it. So following Giordana's advice I got to work

I cut off the bottom 2/3s from below the arm pit.

I removed the pockets, all buttons bar the top one and began playing around with the large piece of material to see what kind of hood shape I could create.

I like the pointed medieval style hoods so that's what I went with.

Folding the rectangle shape over on itself, leaving me with a rectangle.

Giordana said the only option really was to hand sew it, First I had lay it down securing it with pins and sew one length of the fur side.

I did the same to the lining. This took a great deal of time and my fingers were in bits after it.

Then I closed up the seem where I first had removed the material from under the arms.

The hardest part was yet to come. Assemble.

I decided to attach the hood to the underneath of the existing collar.

When Finished Giordana suggested that I could add to it, by embroidery. An image or text maybe.

So I decided to embroider a lavender flower into one of the slieves

Here is the unfinished disaster that is the lavender plant. All was ok in the world until I got to this. If I had had the time I should have gone back to Giordana and Mairead for advice.

When sewing into fur the thread disappeared, in hindsight I should probably have used wool.

I had a brainwave to use material to add volume and sew over it. This did help in terms of raising the stitching and make it visible. But it would have been better off being invisible coz my sewing was terrible.

Well if I thought my fingers were in bits before I was wrong...agony.

I have come to the fast realization that embroidering is definitely not for me.

[tracybirds]

Where Parallel Lines Meet (7/?)

I hate to say it but this fic is just getting longer and longer >< I've never experienced the "spirals out of control" thing and it's quite unnerving!! Big thanks to @gumnut-logic who has the dubious pleasure of listening to my ravings while I try to figure out how exactly things are gonna go and for reading all the bits I threw at her :)

I hope you enjoy! There is a language warning for this one because well... you'll see. They just keeping fighting with each other!!

Title is adapted from a line in Sarah Howes’ poem ‘Relativity’ (scroll to the bottom of the article)

A fight between John and Alan is followed by an interstellar storm with unexpected consequences.

[Part 1] | [Part 2] | [Part 3] | [Part 4] | [Part 5] | [Part 6] | [Part 7]

---

They found Scott in the hanger, talking quietly with Brains and frowning as he ran a hand through the holo in front of them.

His tan had faded without time to spend out of doors, running the island trails or enjoying the pool. There were dark smudges under his eyes, the skin paper thin and shiny, reflecting the blue glow of the holo as he squinted. Glancing up, he spotted the two teenagers walking towards them and closed the holo. He slid the device over to Brains who nodded at the two boys and abruptly left.

Alan’s eyes followed him for a moment, wondering what had come up on the rescue, but then he turned and met Scott’s gaze. Scott pursed his lips together tightly and gave a minute shake of his head, warning him off any questions about the holo.

“Did it go okay?” Alan asked instead.

“Fine,” said Scott shortly.

Alan raised an eyebrow, taken aback, and John crossed his arms with a scowl.

“Just because you’re exhausted doesn’t mean you have to take it out on him,” he snapped. “He’s just worried.”

Scott gave him a sharp look, his eyes wary and appraising. He sighed, letting his head fall into his hand. Alan suddenly had a vision, or possibly a memory, of their father, bent over and aged before his time in the same place where Scott stood now.

“You’re right,” Scott admitted and the image shattered. “I’m sorry, Alan. Virgil was right, I need a break.”

“You all do,” said Alan. “I could help, you know I–”

“No.”

Alan stopped abruptly.

Scott shook his head and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t mean it like that,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Alan reached out, pulling his brother instinctively into a hug. A wave of fatigue crashed over him, as though his brother’s exhaustion were his own. He didn’t argue, didn’t press, didn’t do anything except hold his brother up in the only way left to him. He closed his eyes, ignoring the pinprick of tears that were always only a few awful seconds away from spilling over, focused instead on Scott. It wasn’t time to collapse himself, not when his brother needed him.

John coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He grimaced a little as he caught Alan’s eye, almost cringing away at the silent invitation to join them.

Alan understood and signalled Scott with a subtle tap to his shoulder.

Scott pulled away in an instant, scrubbing his eyes and yawning.

“How far away are the others?” asked Alan.

“They were probably half an hour away from being done when Virg sent me off. I’d guess another hour or two.” He stretched widely, groaning as his bones clicked and settled into place. “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”

“You should be in bed,” said John, looking his brother over. “That’s why Virgil sent you home, right?”

Scott rolled his eyes.

“Dinner first, then I promise to sleep, how’s that?”

His point was made with a loud growl that echoed between them and Scott patted his stomach, grinning at John.

“Good enough for you?”

There were no further arguments and they were soon assembled in the kitchen, pizza toppings scattered across the counter and voices loud and jubilant.

“Quit trying to put green things on my pizza,” grumbled Alan, swatting at Scott.

“You have to eat your vegetables,” said Scott, leaning over to drop more rocket on Alan’s creation. He snatched the cheese back and began to munch on it.

“Oh sure, because ham and cheese has so-oooo many vegetables.”

“It’s got tomatoes on it.”

“Tomato paste doesn’t count!” said Alan, waving the spatula wildly at him. “Get that stuff off!”

A large splodge of the paste flung from the utensil, landing squarely on Scott’s cheek.

Scott laughed, wiping it off and spreading it over Alan’s shirt in retaliation.

“Ugh, Scott,” he whined, scrubbing at it. “This was fresh this morning.”

“Well, it’s not fresh now, and not because of the tomato,” John piped up from his perch on the counter, wrinkling his nose, and Scott pointed at him emphatically in agreement. Grated cheese dropped from his fingertips and he picked it up, shoving it into his mouth with a grin.

Alan scowled at them both.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m being ganged up on, I see how it is.”

“Just solid facts,” said Scott casually, as he sprinkled more cheese into his mouth. “Wash your shirts more often, squirt, then see what we say.”

“You’d just tease me on something else,” huffed Alan.

“It’s almost unfair,” said John, his eyes dancing as he swung his legs. “You being such an easy target and all.”

Alan punched him lightly in the arm.

“Shut up,” he said, pulling a face at him. “And you, stop eating the cheese,” he exclaimed, stealing the bag back from Scott whose hand had snuck into it again. “We need that for the pizza.”

Scott pouted, but his easy smile soon returned.

“That’s the last one in the oven now,” he said. “There’s like eight of them cooking, you don’t seriously think we’ll need more, do you?”

Alan rolled his eyes.

“Well, I need it for lunches. What exactly do you think I eat when you’re not here.”

“Fruits, vegetables, wholegrains, dietary fibre,” said John, ticking off the list on his fingers. “We certainly haven’t eaten anybody’s secret ice cream stash recently.”

Scott groaned, as he started to wipe down the bench.

“Ice cream, Alan, really? Gordon’s going to kill y–”

“What the hell is going on here?”

The words fell flat and cold across the kitchen, drawing their eye unwillingly towards Virgil. He stood still, solid and furious and eyes only on Scott.

Alan backed away in an instant, eyes wide as he tugged at John’s sleeve.

“Virgil, I–” began Scott, but Virgil cut him off, hand slashing through the air as he swept away all argument.

“I sent you home to sleep,” he snarled. “I gave you specific instructions, you were falling asleep at the controls.”

“Oh, and you weren’t?” snapped Scott, his temper flaring. “Don’t be such a hypocrite Virgil, I’m not the only one skirting flight hour regulations here.”

“I have a co-pilot,” shouted Virgil, jabbing his finger at Scott’s chest. “We can take turns; we don’t run the same risks you insist on taking when you flout the rules.”

“I know what I’m doing!”

“Yeah, ignoring the guy who can ground you for a week, that’s always wise,” snarked Gordon, limping into the room. He winced as he fell into the nearest chair, propping up a swollen and bandaged ankle on the table.

“Shut up, Gordon,” said Scott and Virgil in unison.

Scott whirled back on Virgil.

“You can’t ground me,” he said. “You know you can’t.”

“I should,” snapped Virgil. “Hell, Scott, I’m doing everything I can to make sure I don’t have to, but when you won’t even sleep when you’ve been awake twenty hours and physically sent home, you’re not leaving me much choice.”

“I was a trained test pilot,” shouted Scott. “A fucking specialist in the armed forces. We did training under conditions you couldn’t even dream of and if Dad were here–”

“Well, he’s not, is he?” piped up John. “That’s like 80% of the problem, isn’t it?”

“No,” said Gordon, an awful, leering smile spreading over his face. “The problem is you’re not here actually.” His eyes flashed dangerously as he leant forward. “We could have done it with four. But Kayo’s up on Five and now it’s just us. So why don’t you shut up and stop talking about things you don’t understand.”

Alan swore under his breath, helpless and frozen as John’s eyes sparked, his cheeks flushing as scarlet as his hair even as his lips thinned, turning a bloodless white.

“Gordon, stand down,” snapped Scott, but the taunt took like a flame to a gas line, an explosion of indignation and fervent fury.

The shouts smothered the atmosphere and Alan’s hands crept up over his ears, trying to block out the cloying antagonism that had burrowed beneath his brothers’ skin. There was no reason, only emotion and every accusation only set off further eruptions and the tension rose, fists at the ready, electricity crackling in their eyes, daring each other to take the first swing, to just try it and see where it left them.

“Stop it,” whispered Alan, his voice clogging in his throat. He sucked in a breath, watching helplessly as his words did nothing, the awful feeling of everything going wrong and they would never make it out of this mess growing hard and vicious in the pit of his stomach.

“Stop,” he choked, but the words died on his tongue as Scott screamed at Virgil and John jumped in between, Gordon hollering from his seat at them both.

He suddenly saw them as they must once have been, lost and alone and grieving a woman he had never known. He didn’t doubt that the last time this had happened, they were teenagers.

What could Alan do? Even when their dad had died, they’d stuck together. Scott had even said so, vowing they wouldn’t fall apart like they had before. Alan had always wondered what he’d meant and now, with a sickening certainty, he knew.

The overlapping voices and whirling fury rushed around him, one second a violent wave and the next a landslide, and it went on and on and it wouldn’t stop, it couldn’t stop, not unless someone gave way and left their ground forfeit.

“STOP IT,” shouted Alan, stamping his foot and to his horror, he found his voice wasn’t only loud, it was burbling with unshed tears.

“Please, just stop,” he croaked, staggering forward. He hardly noticed the deathly silence that followed, or the hands that caught him, then held him close. He only knew that whatever happened now, he was done. Done with the arguments, with the helpless waiting, with watching his brothers slowly kill themselves for someone else’s crimes.

He leant forward, resting his forehead on a warm shoulder, and relished the sudden and blissful stillness in the room. He breathed in deeply and opened his eyes, blinking slowly as he took in the scene.

It was Scott he’d stumbled into, catching him as only Scott knew how to do. He looked like he was at war with himself, trapped between guilt and worry, and as Alan watched, tears began to run silently down his cheeks.

Alan couldn’t remember ever seeing his eldest brother cry before.

Gordon looked equally stricken, eyes darting between everyone in the room as though he no longer knew who was on who’s side. A gentle hand rested on Alan’s back and he jumped.

To his surprise, John was hovering at his elbow, eyes wide and full of guilt of his own. He flushed and drew away at Alan’s stare, withdrawing to the other side of the room.

And Virgil…

Virgil stood frozen, his mouth agape and his complexion white. There was a developing bruise on his cheekbone, as dark as the shadows under his eyes. His skin looked sallow, exhaustion and stress painted as clear as day in the worry lines that marred his brother’s forehead. He glanced away, as though the sight of Alan was too much to bear, his lips moving in silent apology.

Alan knew what he was about to do and leapt forward, catching Virgil’s arm as he turned away.

“Stay,” he pleaded. “All of you.”

“I need to sleep Alan,” said Virgil, wearily. “I can’t do this now.”

“You have to,” he insisted. “You have to stay, you have to listen.”

He took a deep breath, glancing at all of them, sagging and defeated on the kitchen floor, making sure to catch Scott and Gordon’s eye so they knew what he had to say was for them all.

“You have to stop. Now. If you won’t ground yourselves, I’m doing it for you.”

No-one moved.

Alan breathed harshly, his chest heaving as his family digested his proclamation, knowing things were desperate by the way not one of them argued.

He was certain there was some kind of silent conversation happening, and John shifted beside him, but Alan’s eyes were fixed on Virgil.

He nodded slowly, looking dazed and his lips parted as if to speak.

A shrill beeping cut across him and Virgil jumped back, his eyes sliding towards the oven along with the rest of the family.

Gordon stood and hobbled across the room, ignoring Virgil’s dismayed exclamation.

“Oh, nice,” he said peering into the oven with a grin. “Pizza party anyone?”

***

The conversation wasn’t over, was indeed hardly begun, although they all knew how it would end. Still, the evening fell into an old routine, old enough that even John started to relax as squabbles broke out over pizza toppings and snack divisions.

Gordon claimed the crowning glory of an actual couch – “Don’t you know I’m injured, Alan, you go on the floor!” – and was gleefully dictating his movie choice to John, who was in turn swiping back and forth and ignoring him resolutely.

“We’re not watching that,” he said loudly over Gordon’s protests. “It was stupid in the ‘10s and it’s stupid now.”

“But Johnny, sharks! And tornadoes! And I’m stuck here like this all sad and in pain.”

“Great, you can watch it later since you’re not going out for a while.”

Virgil groaned.

“Gordon, it’s been years, stop trying to get us to watch that damned movie.”

“Guys, shush,” said Alan, gently nudging Scott whose breathing had grown slow and even. “I think he’s asleep already.”

Virgil yawned and blinked blearily.

“Told him so,” he muttered, pulling the blanket up to his chin and snuggling down on Alan’s other side. “Gordon, find a compromise.”

They found one in the new remake of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, both John and Gordon happily agreed on Jules Verne and whispering commentary back and forth to each other on whether the movie had done the story or the science justice.

Virgil drifted off soon after, as Captain Nemo proudly showed off his technological marvel to his prisoners, and Alan didn’t follow much else although Gordon and John’s jibes grew steadily louder. He was too busy feeling warm and safe, cocooned as he was by his two eldest brothers, both of whom seemed intent on never letting him go ever again. There was a steady glow inside him, not as wild as a flame but just as precious on a dark night.

He was happy, he decided. If there was such a thing as deciding. And maybe there was, because now that he’d decided, he couldn’t help but feel it, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face.

“What’s got into you?” asked Gordon, eyes dancing in the holo-light, reflecting the shallow turquoise seas of the Mediterranean.

“I’ve missed you, that’s all.”

Gordon levered himself upright, looking intently at Alan as though trying to read something in his eyes that had become overgrown and lost to time.

“It’s going to be okay, Allie,” he said softly. “It’s been a shitty year, but it won’t last.”

“I know,” said Alan, and he did.

John watched them, his expression growing wary.

“You’re not going to hug, are you?”

“Only if you get over here,” said Gordon with a grin. “Hey, this movie stinks. What do you say we put on your favourite show?”

“You want to watch The Code?” asked John in disbelief.

“What?” said Gordon looking confused. “No, Stingray. It’s like a hundred years old because you have the worst taste, but it’s pretty fun. Not scientifically accurate at all, but you never seemed to care.”

“I’ve never seen it.”

“What?” chorused Gordon and Alan, momentarily forgetting their sleeping brothers.

Scott mumbled something in his sleep and they all froze, before he settled again, his face pressed against Alan’s shoulder.

“You’ve made me watch it with you a million times,” whispered Alan. “It’s like… one of my first memories, that fish jumping out of the ocean.”

John shrugged.

“Guess I was in college when I saw it or something.”

“Oh man,” said Gordon, his excitement warring with his hushed tone. “This isn’t gonna screw with the timeline or something is it?”

John levelled him with a stare.

“I’m like… twenty-nine or something,” he said, gesturing at himself. “Consider the timeline screwed.”

Alan snorted, trying to hold back his laughs, and John shot him a smile, evidently trying not to look too pleased.

“Then what are we waiting for,” crowed Gordon, ignoring Alan’s protests to keep it down. “Hop to, Johnny! You’re gonna love this!”

John grabbed the controller, poised to scroll through the catalogue as requested, when the holo beeped loudly, its sound harsh in the dark.

“What’s happening?” said Scott, jolting upright and looking wildly around him. “Is everyone okay?”

“It’s Grandma!” exclaimed Alan, pointed at the flashing framed photograph on their dad’s desk. He shoved Vigil lightly. “Virgil, wake up, it’s Grandma!”

Virgil grunted, drawing the blanket over his head.

“’t’s early,” he mumbled. “Tell her ’m not hav’n br’kf’st…”

Gordon threw a cushion at him.

“Wake up, Virg!”

Scott turned the lights up to full brightness and Virgil groaned and sat upright, glaring at him through squinted eyes.

“I thought we were meant to be asleep.”

“Grandma, wouldn’t call if it weren’t an emergency,” said Scott anxiously. “Hey, Grandma, we hear you, everything okay?”

“Thought we weren’t meant to be doing emergencies either,” muttered Virgil, but Scott ignored him.

The sun had set in Brisbane already, but the harsh lighting in the lab was bright, illuminating every wrinkle and worry line on Grandma Tracy’s skin. Alan didn’t think he’d ever seen his grandma look so worn before. His hand found its way into Virgil’s, who pulled him instinctively into a hug.

“We have an update,” she said. “We thought we were on the right track last week, but I didn’t want to raise your hopes. But I spoke with Dr Roberts half an hour ago and the results seem conclusive.”

She looked at all of them, taking in their appearances one by one.

Scott, the dark circles under his eyes pronounced in the glow of the holo, towering over them all.

Alan, wrapped in his brother’s arms, wild and hopeful.

Virgil, head drooping on Alan’s shoulder, but growing more alert by the second.

Gordon, frozen, his eyes darting between his siblings.

John.

John whose hands were trembling.

John whose eyes were wide and fearful.

John who hadn’t seemed able to breathe since Scott answered the call, frozen like a prey animal under the scrutiny of a predator.

John, who must know what she was here to say, as they all do.

John, so young, with so much life to live and so much to lose.

Grandma Tracy drew her gaze back to Scott.

“We can reverse it,” she said quietly. “The lab will take several months to develop the method, synthesize the agent. But it can be done.”

Cheers erupted in the room; the brothers unable to contain their delight. Alan whooped excitedly, dragging his family in for a hug.

“John’s coming back!” said Gordon happily. “I can’t believe I’ve actually missed him.”

“Does this mean you’re coming home too, Grandma?”

Before she could reply, there was a loud bang and the four brothers sprung apart.

“Oh, shit,” said Gordon, his face paling as he stared at the slammed door.

Scott made to move, but Alan held him back.

“No,” he said, softly. The glowing warmth in his chest sputtered and died. “Let him go.”

[shares-a-vest]

Fruity Four Advent Calendar, Day 14: Decorating

Prompt List

Eddie, Nancy and Robin convince Steve to decorate his house for Christmas after being left home alone for the fourth year in a row. But he’s being a difficult grouch about it. That is until he finds the perfect ornament to hang on the tree.

This ended up being longer and angstier than I had planned whoopsie. I’ll be back on the 17th. I totally need to finalise rl Christmas stuff because it's just too overwhelming. Whyyy is Christmas just this endless stressful time every single year???

‘Steve Cries Over a Christmas Ornament’

Steve finds himself standing in Hawkins' last operating gas station, rotating a stand of cheap, last minute Christmas decorations as Eddie, Nancy and Robin stand in an aisle arguing about beer. That's when he spots it. An oversized, glittering ornament, hanging precariously on the stand and sticking out like a sore thumb amongst delicate red and green trinkets.

He smiles, possibly for the first time since the others had practically broken his front door down after Dustin had blabbed and told them his parents were going away, yet again for Christmas. It would mark the fourth in a row and Eddie (new to this heartbreaking revelation) had decided to do something about it. Which is how Steve ended up spending his morning off hauling his mother’s dusty Christmas boxes in from the garage in the snow. The others, of course, didn’t help and instead stood around debating whether he should buy a plastic store-bought tree or a real one.

"I'll just go buy a plastic one," Steve had insisted, annoyed at the lack of assistance. "I'm not spending weeks sweeping up pine needles."

A modest green tree was sliding around in its box in the back of Eddie’s van when Robin had demanded they stop for beer and candy, an indication to Steve that the trio probably wouldn’t be helping him decorate the house either.

He tucks a six-pack under his arm and plucks the ornament from off the display hanger, glitter comes with it, falling onto the sleeve cuff of his sweater, a red and white hand-knitted sweater Dustin’s mum gifted him for Christmas last year. He looks it over, chewing his lip in thought as his eyes glaze over the shimmering glitter.

"What's ya looking at?" Robin asks, craning her neck over his shoulder as he jumps and encloses the Christmas decoration in his hand.

He whips around, hiding the ornament behind his back as Robin sets a six-pack on the counter.

"Nothing," he insists.

"Whatever," she says, further filling the register space with some impulse purchases she grabs at the front counter. "Stop being a grump."

"I'm not", he retorts.

Knowing he’ll likely have to foot the bill, he begrudgingly grabs his wallet. Robin merely shrugs, the earflaps of her winter hat swishing as she hauls the beer back under her arm. As she does so, Nancy and Eddie load up more purchases, seemingly having settled their loud argument, save for a few defiant glances as they set their chosen candies on at the register.

After some awkward lingering and quizzing from the others, Steve manages to stay back and pay for the silly (not-so-little) ornament and shoves it in a bag he doesn’t let out of his sight for the trip back to his house.

The quartet spends hours assembling the tree, all because Robin and Eddie feel the need to comment on Vivianne Harrington’s choice of a gaudy red and gold Christmas motif with every ornament and decoration they unwrap from the Christmas boxes. Nancy spends the duration of their decorating time untangling Christmas lights and it is possibly the only task Steve has ever seen her truly struggle with. 

At one point he finds himself up on a ladder with Eddie conveniently spotting him on the ground as he adds some finishing decorations around the living room, loathing to admit actually enjoying it.

"Eds, is it straight?" he asks, holding a ‘Merry Christmas’ banner up over the fireplace.

Eddie, in a total trance and staring at Steve’s butt, shakes his head.

"Nope, absolutely not."

Nancy and Robin burst into laughter from the couch, having abandoned helping entirely after the tree was finished. The noise sets Steve off into a series of wobbles. Eddie places his palms squarely on Steve's butt cheeks, pushing him forward against the ladder rungs. He makes a shrieking sound as Robin positively cackles.

"Can you two help?" Steve snaps, looking over at the girls positively rolling around on the couch in hysterics.

"Nope!" Robin says, popping the 'p' and shaking her head, hair frizzing as she holds up a beer can.

"We are relaxing!" Nancy nods in agreement, waving around a takeaway Chinese menu. "Anyway, Eddie said he’d spot you."

Steve looks down at a grinning Eddie, still cupping his behind. He flashes his teeth in an even wider, and not-at-all-innocent, smile.

The girls eventually decide on their Chinese order and leave to get it, even though Robin is even more unfocused when inebriated. Steve bides time in the living room and decides to turn off the light switch to bask in the full effects of the Christmas scene that has been absent from his house for years. As he flips the switch, his heart drops at the sight and tears quickly well up at the sight of the tree.

His tree.

He steps closer and takes it in, hugging himself tightly as he blinks away tears. Not a moment later, he feels Eddie behind him, snaking his arms around his middle and hooking his chin on his shoulder. Steve promptly pinches his nose in a further attempt to stop his tears and turns on the spot, Eddie not detaching himself an inch.

"What’s wrong?" he asks, shocked, brows furrowed.

"Nothing," Steve replies in a low mumble before adding a little more upbeat, "I have something for you. Just… let me get it."

Before Eddie can say any more, he disappears and bounds up the stairs to his bedroom to retrieve the Christmas ornament he had bought at the gas station from its hiding spot in a box on his unused desk.

When he returns, Eddie is still standing where he left him, eyes wide in thought as he stares at the decorated Christmas tree and chews at his nails. Steve holds out the ornament and practically shoves it in Eddie’s hand before looking down.

"This is for you," he mumbles, sniffling. "To hang on the tree we bought."

At that, he bursts into tears.

In a split second, Eddie's arms are around him again, although his hug is tentatively loose.

"M’Sorry," he says, crying into Eddie’s shoulder and stating the obvious, "I never cry."

He hiccups as he white-knuckles Eddie’s (or, his) sweater.

"I know, Steve," he says with a faint hint of a laugh.

Steve pulls away to look at him. Eddie gives a little squeaking gasp at the sight of him, nose red and cheeks wet with tears.

"Oh, Stevie," he whispers, reaching up to gently comb his fringe back as he furrows his brow and worries, "Was all this one of my dumber ideas?"

"No, no, no," he replies, shaking his head. "I-I… I love it."

Ever the contagious crier, Eddie is welling up too. He gulps heavily and gives a faint smile as he tilts his head in the direction of the couch. They sit and Steve continues sniffling away as Eddie holds out the ornament, slipping it onto his ringed index finger to examine it.

In the low light of the living room, it was perfect, the black glitter covering the bulk of the castle (looking like a rip-off of Cinderella’s) glimmers subtly. The contrasting silver details of the roof, window frames and door shine brighter, looking like snow covering some dark and sinister castle straight out of one of Eddie’s DND campaigns.

"The Prince’s Castle," Eddie declares as the ornament twirls precariously on its thin string, his grip on Steve’s shoulder growing a little tighter.

"I think there’s enough room in it for his Bard too," Steve adds, ungraciously wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Eddie chuckles, "Okay. That was very smooth, Steve."

Steve gives an unconvincing laugh as he rests his head on his shoulder. He feels Eddie’s hand come up to the back of his head, fingers moving through his hair.

"I cried when we were all in the hospital after everything," he explains, eventually breaking the silence. "A bunch, actually."

Eddie merely hums and continues combing his hands through Steve’s hair, a little more purposely now, as he always did when he was listening to Steve talk.

"I cried when Robin was finally allowed to come into my room and when she told me you were okay," he continues and closes his eyes with a sigh as Eddie continues twirling the castle on his finger.

They only stir in the darkness of the living room when Nancy and Robin burst in the front door, loudly rustling bags as Robin excitedly recites the whole Chinese order.

"We’re back," Robin sing-songs as Nancy holds up their food. She glances over, not noticing in the dim lighting that her best friend has been crying, "Oh, the two of you are being gross lovebirds."

She continues on into the kitchen as Nancy follows along, shaking her head.

"Don’t bitch if I eat all the spring rolls because you are too busy making out with your boyfriend, Steve!"

Steve straightens up on the couch and wipes his eyes.

Eddie’s quirked eyebrow disappears under his fringe as he hesitantly asks, "You okay?"

"Yes," he replies, reaching out to hold his boyfriend’s hand as he considers what to say next. "I just really like you being here with me for Christmas. And I wanted to give you something to show it."

Eddie leaps up from the couch and offers a hand.

Steve takes it and Eddie quickly wipes under his eyes with his free hand before leading him across the living room and back over to the tree. Eddie looks it over, his dark eyes twinkling even more than usual from the Christmas lights. Steve watches as he pokes his tongue out in concentration, carefully deciding where to hang the castle.

He grins when he finds the perfect spot, about halfway up the tree, facing the living area. He hangs it on a branch, being careful to hook the string further onto the twig so it won’t droop down and slip off. He quickly bends the branch underneath it up slightly so the heavy and oversized castle has something to sit on for extra security. It’s perfect, tucked in between some Christmas lights for maximum shimmering.

Once he is satisfied with its placement and certain it won’t fall, he looks over to find Steve positively beaming at him.

"What?" he asks, a grin creeping across his face.

"You have glitter in your hair," Steve says, reaching up to pick his fingers through his curls.

[nicolewoo]

Cub Part 14: Blue Calamus

Synopsis: Roman, Seth and Dean are a pack of werewolfs. Protecting their  city from the scumbags of the world ends up with a surprise when a   victim left for dead imprints on Roman Reigns.

Hey everyone. I had a lot of formatting problems when I tried to post this, so let me know if anything is wrong with it.

BTW: I love my readers!!! Sorry for the cliff hanger, but I’m pretty sure you’ll know the answer.... or will you???

   Showering with my mate for the first time was a sensual, sexy, leg shaking experience, and one I wanted to repeat over and over. His hands sliding over my wet skin… the way the water snaked between muscles on his rock hard chest….. the Adonis belt; I could write sonnets to that Adonis belt….. laughing as he helped me dry off…. Passionate lovemaking….. and sleep.

A knock on the hotel door woke us. It was Seth, and he was eager to see us. “Come in” Roman called through our pack link before adjusting the blankets to cover my nudity.

“Alllright! Having fun in here?” Seth asked as he set down a plate of food and 2 waters. “I brought you food. Gotta keep that stamina up.”

Roman reached over and grabbed a grape I saw and wanted. He slid the sweet globe in my mouth, and I smiled lazily as I laid on his chest. I never wanted to move ever again. I was so safe and warm and loved.

Seth grabbed a grape for himself and tumbled onto the bed behind me while eating it. My Sethiepoo was here. If only my sweet Deano was here. I’d feel complete, We’d feel complete.

I could sense Roman’s unhappiness that Seth was butting into our private time, but I was happy to see him.

“The Tribal Chief called. They’re going to assemble in an hour.” Seth said. I was torn between being excited to get this over with and dreading what possible repercussions Roman would have to face. “How ya feelin Cub? Need something for the pain?” Seth asked as he flopped an arm over Roman and me.

“Seth, can you give us some privacy so we can get ready?” Roman prompted impatiently. I tried to sooth him through our link but wasn’t able to figure it out at the moment. I was still exhausted.

“It’s ok baby.” I whispered.

Seth got up and headed for the door. “I’ll be waiting for you guys out here.”

We should have gotten right up. I was so comfortable, so content, so happy. I didn’t ever want to move. “We’ve gotta do this.” Roman said as he kissed my forehead. He was right. It was time to face the music.

The gavel banged on the block.

“I’m calling this meeting of the tribal counsel to order.” Filemu said as she sat.  

The room was packed… overpacked. Even with extra seating brought in, there were quite a few people who had to stand at the edges of the room. Their attempts to remain quiet were in vain. With all the people, all the children, all the gossip about us….. a quiet buzz filled the giant meeting room.

Counsel members sat at a semi circular table at the head of the room. Roman and I were placed at a table in front of the counsel. Seth sat with us in solidarity, his hand holding mine comfortingly.

“We all know why we are here” Filemu said “but let’s be sure we all have all the facts” she continued. She faced me now, “Miss YLN, we want to formally welcome you to our tribe.” The room erupted in happy noises and greetings. The tribal chief raised her hands to quiet the crowd, and they obeyed.

Once the buzz died down, she continued, “We know that the changes you are going through are terrible, and I promise you that the tribe will help you through this. If you need or want for anything, just ask.”

I wasn’t sure if I should talk, but I quietly said a thank you. Filemu smiled sweetly at me.

“Y/N has asked that this meeting be held as soon as possible. We thank our tribal counsel” Filemu looked to the people around the table “and our tribe” she looked through the crowd “for gathering so quickly.” I nodded my agreement, trying to catch the eye of each of the counsel members.

“Here are the facts. Y/N was attacked roughly a week ago. She was stabbed and left for dead. Roman and his pack arrived just after the attack. Roman says that she imprinted on him,” The room erupted in sound, and my new wolf ears couldn’t handle the volume. Without thinking, I put my hands over my ears. Filemu banged the gavel again; quieting the room. “Let us all remember that our new wolf is not adjusted to her heightened senses, so let’s try to keep the volume down” she chided the room. Once they quieted again she continued, “Roman says she imprinted on him, and because of that, he had to turn her.” A low buzz started in the room again as tribe members whispered to each other. “I know we have all heard that a human cannot imprint on a wolf, but….”

A quiet tap on the counsel table drew the attention of the whole room to an elderly counsel member. “It’s not impossible.” Filemu herself turned in shock to the elder. The old man turned to a younger woman, gave her some instructions and she quickly left the room. We all sat quietly waiting with baited breath for an explanation. The young woman returned quickly; setting a large book in front of the elder. He thumbed through the old tome, whispering to his assistant as he searched for what he wanted. “Miss YLN, welcome to the tribe and thank you for your sacrifice.” He said, and I nodded and smiled my thank you. The elder turned now to the rest of the counsel. “There have been 2 confirmed cases of a human imprinting on a wolf.”

Despite the instructions to keep quiet for my sake, the room went wild. The gavel sounded as Filemu tried to get control of the room to no avail. Seth patted my hand, “cover your ears.” I did, and he whistled loud; quieting the room again.

“As I was saying,” The elder continued, “There have been 2 confirmed cases. One in 1643 on Alaufau Island and once in Canada in 1863. It is possible.” The elder smiled at me and I whispered a thank you to him. Roman and Seth both squeezed my hands in excitement.

Filemu was a little unsure what to do. She obviously didn’t know about these events.  “Ok” she said smiling at me, “But we will be testing them today.” Filemu nodded at a couple of women who went to a table on the side of the room. “Fiva and Lagi are preparing Blue Calamus Tea now.”

The room went still… as if we were about to face the moment of truth, which I guess we were. The silence was tense and uncomfortable, and Filemu was quick to break it. “I’m curious. How many of you have spent the past few days with the couple? Stand up please.”

I turned to see all those who had cared for me over the past week standing. Filemu nodded. “Now, how many of you believe these two are imprinted? Stay standing if you believe they’re imprinted.”

Nobody moved. Nobody. My eyes scanned the group, looking for anyone who sat, and finding none. It was that moment when Roman and I both realized his father was still standing. I was shocked!!! “Sika?” Filemu asked, obviously shocked herself. “Last time we talked, you did not believe they were imprinted. What changed your mind?”

Standing strong, Sika was quick to answer. “O le galu” he answered curtly, but when Filemu smiled at him, he smiled too. When Fiafia reached for Sika’s hand, the movement caught my attention, and she smiled warmly when I looked at her.

“O le galu means The Wave” Roman told me through our link, “but I don’t know what he means.” 

“You don’t know?” Seth asked and Roman said no. 

The two women preparing the tea headed our way. I felt my stomach churn with stress. I inhaled deeply, smelling the floral brew as it was placed in front of me.

Seth put his hand on my back and thought “It’s gonna be ok.”

 Lagi offered me some honey, “It’s very bitter, sweetie.” I nodded my agreement, and she added the sweet sap to both of our cups. “This is Blue Calamus Tea. It will make you hallucinate,” she said to me “But it will also make you tell the truth.” I nodded my acknowledgement. 

Fiva now turned to address the room.  “Pray time” she announced in broken English. “God we pray guidance and truth. Bless these couple on de journey for truth. Amen.” Simple and effective. 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Filemu prompted. 

“I’ll be right here with you, keepin you safe cub.” Seth said, and I found it comforting at a very tense moment. 

“Ready?” Roman said.  We started drinking. It was absolutely foul tasting, and I wretched a little at the taste, but when I was ready to stop drinking, Fiva said “As much you can. As much.” She reached toward my cup as if she was going to force me to drink it, but when I continued, she stopped. 

Roman finished a second before me, gagging himself at the disgusting brew.  I hadn’t realized the women had brought a plate of fruit and a pastry too. Roman reached immediately for some banana and inhaled the fruit. He immediately reached for a piece of pineapple for me and had it ready to put in my mouth the second I set the tea down.

I thanked him and leaned against him. He curved his arm around me, and we waited.  We started feeling the effects of the tea not even a minute later. A warm wave of tingling rolled through us, calming our worried fears, pushing away the intensity of this situation. This felt like being high. We could handle this.  Roman kissed my forehead as we looked around the room and waited for something to happen. This was the best I’d felt since the stabbing. I just wanted to curl up under a velvet blanket with Roman and let the world go away.

Just as we were starting to really enjoy the feeling, it kicked up a notch. We got higher. Then higher. Things started moving super slow. When Seth moved his arm, I saw 5 arms moving. When I heard a baby cry, it morphed to an evil sound. This was too high. Way too high… for me… for us… we were scared.

“It’s ok. I’m here.” Seth said through our link, and we found comfort in it. “You know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you. You’re safe.” He continued until we were able to relax a bit. 

Naomi and Fiafia started coming to comfort us, and when I looked toward them, the whole scene looked like it was in a fun-house mirror. “It’s ok. I’m here too.” Naomi said quietly. She knelt by my chair, placing a calming hand on mine.

Filemu spoke now, “How are you feeling?” she asked. 

“We’re…. ok.” Roman answered, and I nodded in agreement.

“Good. This is Elder Noa.” She introduced. 

“Hello, Can I call you Cub?” Noa addressed me, and I nodded yes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Noa pulled out an empty chair and sat with us. Lagi and Fiva followed his lead.

“We are going to ask some questions. Ok?” We nodded. “Can you tell me what you see Cub?”

“You. Counsel. Mate. Brother. Chairs. Tables….” Noa’s slight chuckle stopped me. 

“Good. Do you see anything strange?” Noa asked. 

I was going to answer, but Roman did instead. “Colors… we see colors”

“Warped.” I said Noa smiled and nodded. “What do you mean warped?”  Noa’s English was good, but how do you explain warped to someone for whom English is a second language? 

“We see things move slower and faster than” Roman said. 

“they should.” I finished his sentence. “Like Sethiepoo had 4 arms moving after his.” We hoped that would explain warped to this guy. Then again, why were we trying to explain that? Where were we? We looked up…. Tribal counsel room. What’s going on? The room started to spin a bit. 

Seth picked up one of Roman’s hands. “I’m right here guys.” We found it comforting again. 

Lagi tried to hide a giggle as she said “They’re ready.” The tribe chucked too. She paused a beat before talking. “Miss YLN, who is your mate?” 

I smiled big and looked to my mate. “Roman.” I heard myself draw the word out and roll the R…. RRRRRRRoman.

“Roman, who is your mate?”

He nestled his nose in my hair and kissed the top of my head. “Cub. My sweet cub. Beautiful cub.” Fiva laughed.

“Gross” I heard one of the teenagers say. 

Noa addressed Roman now. “Roman tell me about the first time you saw Y/N.”

“So beautiful. So sweet. So perfect. Hurt. She was hurt.” He answered. 

Lagi answered, “She was very hurt. What did you feel?” 

“Panic! No! No! No!” Part of Roman’s mind went back to the moment he saw me. I saw me, on the ground, bloody and broken from his viewpoint. “Need. Mate. Save. Need. Need. Save Mate.” Roman tried to explain the feelings he’d had that night.

“Good. Very good.” Lagi said. Now, let’s talk about the plane ride.” She soothed Roman out of his terror. “Your mate went into heat?” 

“Mate!!! Mate!!!! She’s so fucking beautiful!” A grumbling growl exploded from him. I looked at him and smiled as I leaned into him. 

“Right” Lagi said. I’m going to ask you a personal question, but it’s important you answer, ok?”

Roman was quick to agree, but Lagi realized I was the one who was more likely embarrassed by talking about mating. “Y/N, I’m going to ask a very personal question, and if you want you can whisper the answer to us. Ok?” 

Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered that even if I whispered, everyone in the room would hear me with their wolf hearing, but honestly, I didn’t care. Roman was getting hard thinking about mating, and I felt him inhale deeply.  He was going to set off another round of this heat. That was way more important that if these strangers knew I had sex. 

“Guys!” Seth said through our link. “You have to focus. No mating right now. You can mate in a little while.  Right now we have to save Roman.” The thought successfully cleared the lust out of our heads for now.

Lagi seemed to be amused by us. “Cub, Tell me what happened when Roman first thrust into you.” 

It was a VERY personal question, but I wasn’t offended. “It felt so good. And the wall came down. We were”

“united as one mind.” Roman finished. “I feel what she feels. She feels”

“what he feels,” I finished. “We are”

“One” we said together as we looked into each other’s eyes with goofy smiles like we did the moment we mated. We rubbed our noses together. 

Lagi leaned back in her chair, looking at Fiva, who exhaled and smiled back at Lagi.

“Do we have an answer?” Noa asked the ladies, and they both smiled as they nodded yes. 

@mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire @starwithaheart @spookys-girl @pitlissa22

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2023 30. Amity

Characters: Gaius van Baelsar, Keith Summers, Avilina, Allie, the citizens of Terncliff Expansion: Endwalker (Spoilers for Shadowbringer Patches) Rating: G for Goofy Notes: At the bottom. Keith continues to be Gaius's punishment

Gaius coughed as smoke filled his apartment, grabbing for Heirsbane as he pushed out his door. 

"Sound the alarm! Assemble the other volunteer fire force," he yelled out into the night, shielding his face as lights flashed in his face, "Hells! We're under siege!"

As his eyes adjusted, the staccato of an electric keyboard rang out over the city, followed by a small murmur of cheering from those gathered at his favourite reading spot. Keith's voice crooning through what Gaius now realized was artificial fog. The lights centering on a crane with Keith hung on it, the Garlean groaned.

"🎶 I got myself a notion

 And one I know that you'll understand

We set the world in motion

By reaching out for each other's hand

Maybe we'll discover

What we should have known all along 🎶"

Gaius pushed through the crowd as Keith sang, glowering as the Gyr Abanian was lowered enough to gently take Avilina's hand in his own as he stepped onto the marble railing. The singer spun the Auri girl in his arms as he continued to sing on.

"🎶One way or another

Together's where we both belong 🎶."

The Garlean stopped short as he watched Avilina and Keith start to dance together and sing, finding himself beside Allie who watched quietly with the crowd.

"🎶If we listen to each other's heart

We'll find we're never too far apart

And maybe love is the reason why

For the first time ever we're seeing it eye to eye 🎶"

Gaius grunted as the two pointed to their eyes then each other before finding himself pulled in by Keith. Spotlight on him, the man felt himself freeze in terror, only pulling out of his state by Keith giving him a little nudge as he continued.

"🎶If a wall should come between us

Too high to climb, too hard to break through

I know that love will lead us

And find a way to bring me to you

So don't be in a hurry

Think before you count us out

You don't have to worry

I won't ever let you down (nothing's gonna stop us now) 🎶"

As Keith and Avilina went into the chorus again, Gaius tried to make his escape, finding his route blocked by the orphan children jumping and cheering. In a panic, he looked to the ledge and then to Keith. Grabbing the other but scruff of his outfit, he chucked him over the edge, the music cutting out with only the sound of Keith screaming

"WAAAAAHOOOHOOOHOOHOOOEEEEEeeee" before splashing.

The crowd gasped a bit, looking at the Garlean as he tried to catch his breath. Swallowing, he straightened up, brushing at his house coat. Catching the frowns of the children up front, he looked to Avilina as she looked over the ledge, letting out a sigh of relief as she watched Keith swim toward the hanger.

"What is all this madness," he asked.

"An Amity concert to celebrate our friendship with Eorzea," the girl answered, "And that was our main act."

"Of course Summers would-," the man grumbled, hearing the whispers of Terncliff people behind him, "How much longer did he have?"

"We just started sir. It'll be some time for him to climb back and the crowd seems a bit restless," Avilina said, looking to Gaius expectantly.

"No. Hells no. Running the fun was not my intention but I'll be damned if…," Gaius growled before looking back to the crowd and then to the concerned looking orphans.

With a sigh, he relented to buying time for Keith to return. Face red and eyes upward he began to belt out the first song that came to him.

"🎶 Oh give me a home. Where the buffalo roam,

 Where the deer and the antelope play.

 Where seldom is heard, a discouragin' word, 

and the skies are not cloudy all day. 

Home, home on the range 🎶"

The man wished Ultima had taken him out now more than ever, hearing the kids giggle at his off key tune. He dared glance toward Allie who watched quietly, though a twinkle of amusement seemed to flicker in her eyes.  Finally he found himself looking out at a wet Hyur beside her, emerald eyes gleaming with delight as he bellowed out the song before wandering forward to sing with him, gesturing to the crowd to join in. The whole of the crowd filled Terncliff with the folk song, united now more than ever in friendship, and a bit in the former Legatius’s embarrassment. Notes: Song 1 2 1 by Tevin Campbell Song Home on the Range by Brewster Higley

[itscnc]

Fadal Door Parts

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[usafphantom2]

Croatia transfers 14 Mi-8 helicopters to Ukraine

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 10/20/2023 - 19:17in Helicopters, War Zones

On October 19, 2023, Croatia confirmed the transfer of 14 Mi-8-MTV-1 helicopters to Ukraine, a measure supported by U.S. and Croatian defense authorities.

These helicopters, which have served for more than three decades in various functions, will join the Ukrainian armed forces, accustomed to this type of Russian-made multifunctional helicopter.

According to a transcript from the Pentagon, Croatian Defense Minister Mario Banozic and U.S. Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin discussed the transfer during a meeting. The helicopters were assembled at Zagreb Franjo Tudjman Airport and the adjacent Aeronautical Technical Center. All national markings and serial numbers have been removed in preparation for their transfer to Ukraine.

The Mi-8 of the 395º Transport Helicopter Squadron (ETH) based in Divulje were gathered on the military ramp of Zagreb Franjo Tudjman Airport and adjacent to the Zrakoplovo-Tehnicki Centar (ZTC; Aeronautical Technical Center) and will be delivered very soon to Ukraine.

The Mi-8 is a medium-sized biturbine helicopter, originally designed by the Soviet Union and now produced by Russia. It is used in various functions, including as an air command post, attack, reconnaissance platform and cargo transport. The Mi-8 is one of the most produced helicopters in the world, used by more than 50 countries.

The Croatian helicopter fleet was mainly equipped with two squadrons of Mi-8-MTV Hip H; Mi-8T Hip C; Mi-171Sh. Among the Mi-8 fleet to be delivered to Ukraine, three cargo Mi-8Ts and 11 multifunctional Mi-8MTV-1s (also known as Mi-17-1Vs) underwent revisions between 2003 and 2005, and then between 2013 and 2014.

The Mi-8T, of which 3 will be delivered to Ukraine, is a utility version without seats, equipped with round windows, gun hangers, winch system and pulleys for the loading area and, optionally, electric winch near the front door. All versions have large shell-shaped doors at the rear with built-in ladder for the passenger version. BRDM type vehicles or light vehicles can enter through these doors.

Mi-171 helicopters of the Croatian Air Force.

With the withdrawal of its fleet of Mi-8 transport helicopters, Croatia now has four UH-60M Black Hawks and ten Mi-171Sh helicopters to meet any air transport requirements, although the former is mainly used by specialized military units. The Croatian Ministry of Defense, however, plans to acquire up to 15 UH-60L helicopters in the coming years to replace its Mi-8.

Tags: Military AviationCroatian Air ForceUkrainian Air ForceHelicoptersMi-8

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has work published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. Uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[mminfrastructure]

Top Aluminium Tents and Hanger Tent Manufacturers in India: Leading Providers and Solutions

In the ever-evolving landscape of temporary infrastructure, aluminium tents and hanger tents have emerged as versatile and durable solutions for various industries. From hosting events to providing temporary storage, these structures offer unmatched flexibility and robustness. India has become a significant player in manufacturing these aluminium structures, with several companies leading the way in innovation, quality, and customer satisfaction.

This article will guide you through the top aluminium tents and hanger tent manufacturers in India, highlighting their offerings, the advantages of these structures, and the factors influencing the aluminium tent hanger price in India.

The Growing Demand for Aluminium Tents in India

Aluminium tents have gained immense popularity in India, driven by their lightweight, corrosion-resistant properties, and ease of installation. These tents are perfect for a wide range of applications, including exhibitions, trade shows, weddings, corporate events, and even emergency relief shelters. The versatility and aesthetic appeal of aluminium tents make them a preferred choice for both commercial and personal use.

Why Aluminium?

The use of aluminium in tent construction brings several benefits:

Durability: Aluminium is resistant to rust and corrosion, ensuring that the tents remain in good condition even in harsh weather conditions.

Lightweight: Despite its strength, aluminium is lightweight, making the tents easier to transport and assemble.

Aesthetic Appeal: Aluminium tents often come with sleek designs and can be customized to fit various themes and requirements.

Eco-Friendly: Aluminium is recyclable, making it a more sustainable option compared to other materials.

Given these advantages, it’s no surprise that the demand for aluminium tents in India is on the rise.

Best Aluminium Tent Manufacturers in India

Several manufacturers in India have established themselves as leaders in the production of aluminium tents and hanger tents. These companies are known for their commitment to quality, innovation, and customer service.

1. MM Infrastructure

MM Infrastructure is one of the leading aluminium tent manufacturers in India, known for its high-quality products and customized solutions. With a strong presence in the market, the company offers a wide range of aluminium tents, including hanger tents, event tents, and storage tents.

Products: MM Infrastructure provides aluminium tents in various sizes and designs, catering to different needs. Whether you need a tent for an exhibition or a large hanger for storage, they have a solution.

Customization: The company offers customization options, allowing clients to choose the size, design, and accessories that best suit their needs.

Quality: MM Infrastructure uses high-grade aluminium and other materials, ensuring that their tents are durable and long-lasting.

Understanding Aluminium Tent Hanger Prices in India

One of the key considerations when purchasing aluminium tents, especially hanger tents, is the price. The aluminium tent hanger price in India can vary significantly based on several factors:

1. Size and Specifications

The size of the tent is a major factor influencing the price. Larger tents require more materials and labor, resulting in higher costs. Additionally, the specific design and features, such as windows, doors, ventilation systems, and flooring, can also impact the price.

2. Material Quality

The quality of the aluminium used in the tent’s construction plays a crucial role in determining the price. High-grade aluminium that offers better durability and resistance to corrosion will naturally be more expensive than lower-grade options.

3. Customization

Customized tents that are tailored to specific needs or preferences tend to be more expensive than standard models. Customization can include size adjustments, unique designs, and additional features, all of which contribute to the overall cost.

4. Brand Reputation

The reputation of the manufacturer also affects the price. Well-established brands known for their quality and reliability may charge a premium for their products. However, this often comes with the assurance of better durability, service, and after-sales support.

5. Market Demand

Market demand can influence prices, particularly for specialised tents like aluminium hanger tents. During peak seasons or in response to specific industry needs, prices may rise due to increased demand.

6. Installation and Transportation Costs

The cost of installing and transporting the tents can also add to the overall price. Some manufacturers include these costs in the price, while others may charge them separately.

Choosing the Right Aluminium Tent Manufacturer in India

When selecting an aluminium tent manufacturer in India, it’s important to consider several factors to ensure you get the best value for your investment.

1. Quality and Durability

Ensure that the manufacturer uses high-quality materials, particularly aluminium that is resistant to corrosion and capable of withstanding various weather conditions. The tent should be durable and long-lasting, providing value over time.

2. Customization Options

Choose a manufacturer that offers customization options to meet your specific needs. Whether you need a tent for a special event or a large hanger for industrial use, the ability to customize the size, design, and features is crucial.

3. Customer Service

Look for a manufacturer known for excellent customer service. This includes providing detailed information about the products, assisting with installation, and offering support after the purchase.

4. Pricing

Consider the aluminium tent hanger price in India when making your decision. While it’s important to find a product within your budget, don’t compromise on quality. Look for a manufacturer that offers competitive pricing without sacrificing the durability and functionality of the tent.

5. Reputation and Reviews

Research the manufacturer’s reputation and read customer reviews. A company with a strong reputation and positive feedback from customers is more likely to deliver a high-quality product and reliable service.

Conclusion

Aluminium tents and hanger tents are indispensable solutions in various industries, offering versatility, durability, and aesthetic appeal. With the growing demand for these structures in India, several manufacturers have emerged as leaders in the market, providing high-quality products and services.

When choosing an aluminium tent manufacturer in India, consider factors such as material quality, customization options, customer service, pricing, and the company’s reputation. By selecting the right manufacturer, you can ensure that your investment in an aluminium tent or hanger tent will provide long-lasting value.

Whether you’re hosting an event, need temporary storage, or require a specialised industrial solution, the leading aluminium tent manufacturers in India, including MM Infrastructure, are equipped to meet your needs with top-tier products and services.

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The Benefits of Built-In Fitted Wardrobes in Sydney

Sydney is a rather lively city and this is why one can meet times when usable space can be limited, so this is where the need to become as ergonomic as possible arises. When it comes to designing your home, you can easily improve the working ability as well as appearance of your home interior by getting built-in fitted wardrobes. The aim of these customised storage elements is rather versatile, and this is why these elements are gaining more and more popularity among homeowners. Here we take a more detailed look into the benefits of built-in fitted wardrobe in Sydney.

Optimal Use of Space

Maximising Storage Capacity

Perhaps the most obvious advantage of fitted wardrobes is they are specific for utilisation of extra space. Unlike the freestanding wardrobes, which are fixed in standard sizes, and which may leave much spaces blank, built-in wardrobes have been designed according to actual dimensions of the room they are installed in. Chapter 3 Warehouse Flexibility as an Internal Environmental Factor 3. 1. This implies that there can be utilisation of every component of space, right from the floor and to the roof and from one wall to the other, as it offers adequate space for clothes, shoes, accessories and the like.

Tailored to Your Needs

It has been seen that built-in wardrobes can also be designed according to the storage requirement of the persons inhabiting that particular home. If you need additional areas for hanger bar storage clothing, a better storage solution for accessories, and/or separate storage compartments for shoes, a custom design can help. It makes certain that your storage solution is not only functional but is also tailored to be the perfect match for your way of life.

Enhanced Aesthetics

Seamless Integration

For example, built-in wardrobes are a modern furniture piece that does not make unnecessary invasive accents to the room’s design. Compared to many home additions where the addition is constructed separately from the home and then attached, they seem to meld perfectly into the walls and provide a neat appearance. This work will help your place have a larger and neater appearance, giving it a more appealing outlook.

Horizontal Railing with a Variety of Visually Diverse Color Options

You therefore have the flexibility of options as far as the style, finish, and the material of the built-in wardrobes are concerned. Since it can have lost gloss doors and handles which are hidden into the doors or can be elegant wooden clothes with ornaments, you can choose the appearance which you like with no doubt and it will be the same what you need for your home.

Increased Property Value

Attractive Feature for Buyers

Fitted wardrobes that are built in add value to the house and sometimes constitute as appreciation symbols to prospective purchasers. Whether it is a closet, a shelf unit or a cabinet, most potential buyers would be more inclined to purchase a prefab metal building that comes with a custom storage system because of the extra utility and the extra panache that comes with the unit. Making the purchase of a built-in wardrobe is a wise decision for homeowners who are keen on selling their houses as this will make the house more attractive to prospective buyers hence leading to a quick sale of the house at a higher price.

Longevity and Durability

These furniture pieces are made of excellent materials to ensure they will last for a longer period of time than other furniture that is assembled in a similar way. It means that while you have made a large initial investment you will not have to make further investments for a very long time, thus your storage will remain reliable for an extremely long period of time.

Improved Organisation and Efficiency

Easy to Keep Tidy

Having a closet organised within a unit eliminates the distractions of messy clothes and a cluttered space. The possibility to create custom design means that specific details can be given to accommodate particular types of items and therefore provide easy organisation and location of everything. I believe this organisation can save you time and stressful moments because you always know where everything is.

Streamlined Morning Routines

It is almost mandatory to note that every person who has a closet, to organise his or her wardrobe to ensure more efficiency every time one has to go through a dressing routine such as in the morning. This way the haphazard collection of clothes, shoes, handbags and other accessories is well organised and we don’t waste much time in the morning finding clothes to wear and matching accessories to it.

Personalization and Flexibility

Customizable Interiors

A built-in wardrobe can have various sections within the interior that can be changed occasionally. Mobile, readily detachable, and movable bars and rails of files, rods, and shelves make it possible for you to alter the flow depending on the changes in the storage patterns that are embraced in the process. This brings the added element of flexibility that makes your wardrobe practical and season appropriate.

Innovative Storage Solutions

So fitted room cupboards possess advantages of superior functionality since they can always include inventive storage possibilities that are not achievable by freestanding versions. Additional such options like pull-out shoe racks, tie and belt organisers, interior lighting, and Internal truss for the mirror door playing add much newer convenience as well as functionality to your stowage space or makes your living experience much better.

It turns out that there are lots of advantages in having built-in fitted wardrobes for homeowners in Sydney because it helps to maximise use of the space; aesthetic appeal; property value; organisation. The benefits of green roofs have been acted by their suitability in accommodating individual choice making them very appropriate especially in homes. To detail, people who like to manage and organise or enhance the appearance of their living space, then having a built-in fitted wardrobe that is most suited for this kind of living space should be one of the best and wise decisions to consider.

For more info visit here:- built in wardrobes sydney

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Legging Organizer for Closet, Metal Yoga Pants Hangers 2 Pack w/10 Clips Holds 20 Leggings

20 Pcs Large Capacity- A set of 2 easily accommodates 20 pairs of yoga pants. A huge storage capacity can meet all your storage needs. Each yoga pants hanger comes with 10 large clips, which can save you valuable time and make it easier to put up/hang up the pants you need.

Pants Hangers Space Saving-No assembly is required. Leggings organizer for closet with clips is integrated and can be hung directly in the closet as soon as you open the package. You can hang them on the wall, closet, door, and everywhere you want. No need to take up any additional space, which is convenient to use daily.

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