#I love them so much I can’t believe I hadn’t drawn them in years

[sinofwriting]

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his  wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[hawkeyetrained]

Favorite Niece

Derek Hale x Fem!Argent!reader

Other Characters: Kate Argent, Allison Argent (mentioned), McCall Pack (mentioned)

Warnings: cannon level violence, but nothing too bad, Derek tied up, slight S1E11 spoilers

Summary: She is the older sister of Allison Argent and, unlike her sister, knows all about the supernatural world. What happens when her aunt visits and happens to capture her boyfriend?

Word count: 1,650

My family was well known in the hunter community. Each member was trained either as a hunter, or a leader. My mother was the leader in our family, until time came for me or my little sister to take her place. Allison and I had just moved to Beacon Hills with our parents. She was a sophomore while I was a few months away from finishing my senior year. My little sister still didn’t know too much about the supernatural world we lived in, but me, my aunt Kate had been teaching and mentoring me for years.

She saw the world in a much different light than I did though. She believed that anything supernatural should be killed, while I, on the other hand, thought that those living in peace and protecting their own people and spaces shouldn’t be put down.

When we first moved here, I met Derek Hale while out in the woods, practicing my knife throwing. He had stopped running when he heard my frustrated yells and curses, coming over to investigate and make sure no one was hurt. We were instantly drawn together, neither of us wanting to stay away from each other for more than a few hours. The fact that I came from a family of hunters was one of the first topics that came up when we first got together. When I assured him that I saw the world in a vastly different way than my family, he and I became inseparable.

Everyone in the hunting world knew the Hale’s, and their story. I didn’t want to believe that someone could be horrible enough to trap a family in their house and let them burn. But when Derek opened up and told me about the night of the fire, about the pain he went through after losing his entire family, I swore off hunting completely.

Now, we had been together for nearly half a year, and when my aunt Kate came into town to visit, Derek and I had to keep things even quieter than usual. Scott and Stiles both knew Derek and I were together, but we had them keep things to themselves when my baby sister began hanging around with the three of us and Derek.

“Hi there my beautiful niece.” Kate smiled widely as she came into my room. I set my notebook down and turned around in my chair, making sure my phone was face down so she couldn’t see my messages.

“Hey Aunt Kate.” I smiled back at her, hoping she couldn’t feel my anxiety rolling off my body in heavy waves. I hadn’t been able to get a hold of Derek for hours, and with the small group of hunters in town, I was overly nervous.

“You at a good place for a break?” She nodded back to my homework. “I wanna show you something.”

“Umm.” I closed my laptop after saving my English report. “Yeah, I can stop for the night.” I slipped my boots on and grabbed by burnt orange sweater as I followed her out the front door. “Mom, dad, Aunt Kate is kidnapping me for the night. Love you!” I yelled back into the house before getting in the car. “So, where are we going?”

“I have a surprise for you.” She had been teaching me more and more about the hunting world as I had been trying to keep her off my back with my relationship with Derek. “You’ve been making so much progress in your training with me. I can’t believe how quickly you picked up knife throwing, and I swear you’re a natural shooter, so I thought I would surprise you with a very easy first hunt.”

My blood ran cold, and it felt like my heart stopped beating. “What do you mean? You know how I feel about hunting.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I know, but you’ll have to get over it eventually. What if something comes after your baby sister one day?” Threatening Allison like that made my entire body freeze. She knew how protective I was over my little sister, how I’d do anything to keep her safe and out of the hunting world if I could. My dad had just started teaching Allison the basics, so the thought of her being thrown into hunting like I was scared the hell out of me. “You need to know how to protect yourself and your sister.”

She opened her door and got out of the car. When did we stop? “Where are we?” I followed behind her, not being able to see much as we wondered through the darkness, only to stop in the basement of what I recognized to be the Hale house. “Aunt Kate?” My heart was pounding as I followed her farther into the basement, only to come to a room with Derek chained up to a metal frame, wires connecting the metal to the circuit box on the wall, my curious eyes widening in shock and fear.

“Surprise!” She gave me a wide grin and held her arms to her side, effectively making Derek jump awake and his eyes land on my face. “What better way to kick off your hunting life than to take out one of the most famous werewolves in Beacon Hills?”

My breathing was a bit heavier as I stared at Derek. His side was bandaged up, the wires of the circuit box disappearing under the black tape, and he looked like he hadn’t sept in days. I knew Kate had been torturing him, probably sending too much electricity through his body as her way of getting him to talk and not letting him heal properly. “You...you want me to kill Derek Hale?” I looked at my aunt like she was crazy.

“Yes!” She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and dragged me closer to the werewolf. Derek bared his teeth and growled at my aunt. “See, he’s just so feisty.” She didn’t know he was trying to protect me, not himself.

“Derek?” My voice was soft, my aunt taking it as disbelief, not my fear for his life. “I can’t do this. He never did anything to me.”

Kate rolled her eyes at me, dropping her arm and going over to the circuit switch. “Sure, you can. You just have to take the first few steps.” I hadn’t taken my eyes off of his, until I heard a small click, and Derek tensed up in pain, a loud roar tearing through his chest.

“No, no, Aunt Kate, stop! Stop!” I shrieked, running over to her table, and flipping the switch off. Derek relaxed back against the metal wall, a breath of relief falling from his lips. “Stop.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart, he’s a monster. Our family, we hunt them down to make sure they won’t ever hurt anyone.” My eyes were wide as I stared at Derek, his bare chest heaving as he took in all the air he could before my aunt would turn the machine back on.

“He hasn’t hurt anyone though.”

“But he will!” Her voice was getting louder and louder, almost yelling at me. “You need to understand that werewolves are dangerous and need to be put down.”

I was silent for what felt like hours, both Kate and Derek looking at me, waiting for my answer. “Ok.” I sighed. “You want me to kill him, fine. But I don’t want you breathing down my neck telling me I’m doing something wrong. Go wait in the car.” I had to convince her that I would go through with it. My fingers trailed over the black handgun sitting beside the machine on the table, slightly trembling. “Please, just let me do this my way.”

A proud smile covered her face as my eyes dropped to the ground. “Alright! I knew you were my favorite niece for a reason.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ll see you outside in twenty minutes.” Kate turned and walked out of the house. I didn’t move until I heard the car door shut behind her, then I moved quickly up to Derek’s side.

“Derek?” I placed my hands on his cheeks, turning his face to look at me. “Look at me, please.”

“Why? You wanna look into my eyes as you kill me? I knew it wasn’t real.” The pain in his words broke my heart.

My eyes filled with tears and I held onto his cheeks just a bit tighter. “Derek, I am nothing like my aunt. She is crazy and thinks anything supernatural should be killed. I can’t do that. I could never do that, especially not to you. I sent her out so I could get you free, so I could save you.” My hands smoothed down his sweaty hair. “Please, Derek, you gotta believe me. I could never hurt you.”

“You do this, and it’s not just Kate that will come after you. It’s all her hunter friends, your mom and dad, maybe even your sister someday. You’re ok with that?” His eyes locked on mine, listening to my heart for a change in pace.

“For you?” I smiled softly, resting my head against his. “Anything.” He leaned forward, pressing a searing kiss to my lips before I pulled away. “You see a key?”

He rolled his eyes. “Move.” I listened to his order, stepping back, and watching his movements carefully. Derek planted his feet, balled his hands into fists, and threw his arms forward, snapping the metal cuffs off his wrists and tearing the black bandage from his side. “Now let’s get out of here.”

“Just a second.” My feet carried me up in front of him, my hands resting around his neck as I pulled him down for another kiss. His arms came to wrap around me, pulling me closer to his chest for a moment before leaning back and taking my hand in his. “You scared the hell out of me.”

A car door slammed outside the old Hale house. “We need to go.”

@thetallassgirl

[imagineanime2022]

Human Toy

Doma X Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 874

Requested: Anon

Request: Hello! I hope you're doing well :). I was wondering if you could write a fluff douma x daughter human reader from demon slayer? And maybe she has his powers despite being human?

Doma had only stumbled upon a lower demon trying to get his next meal, he doesn’t even know what made him stick around, he could tell that you weren’t a slayer, it was an easy meal, that is until the demon actually attempted to kill you, he only got within a few feet of you before he stopped in his tracks “I can’t move, what is this?” He asked, you looked at him, your eyes tired, your body gaunt, skinny, you probably hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks. “I don’t want you to move, so you won’t move.” You answered simply, you stood from where you were sitting. “The sun will be up soon, you should have chosen better.” “Wait!” He shouted as you walked past him. “Little one, where do you plan on going?” A new voice asked, you turned to where it had come from and came face to face with a pale demon, with platinum blonde hair and rainbow coloured eyes, your eyes drawn to the kanji that covered them ‘upper moon 2’. “Here to punish me for what I’ve done to him?” You asked. “No.” He smiled as he crossed his arms “just a proposal, meet me here tomorrow, I’ll bring you some food.”

You shouldn’t have gone back considering how much of a trap it could have been, but Doma was there and as promised he had brought food for you, he gestured for you to sit and eat and when he seemed that you were a little more relaxed he spoke “how long have you been able to use those powers?” He asked. “I learned about them recently, my parents didn’t like it.” You explained and he looked at you. “So you have nowhere to go?” He asked as he looked around the forest, “have you been out here the whole time?” “Yeah, people have walked past but no one wants to help.” You answered, “well except the trees.” “They help?” He asked. “They give what they can offer, shelter, food, sometimes friends.” You explained. “Would you like somewhere else to live?” He asked. “Somewhere with you?” You asked. “I promise I don’t want to hurt you.” He said. Again you shouldn’t have believed him but you did, as a child you were trusting but you also had nothing to lose, if he killed you he’d only end a painful and lonely existence. He put his hand out to you which you took the roots that had taken guard around you pulled back allowing you to leave.

That was 5 years ago now and you sat in the garden in the old house that Doma had told you was yours you wondered how different it would have been, if you’d even still be alive. “So you’re what he’s been hiding?” A spiteful almost angry voice asked, you looked over and saw a demon with red hair and markings across his face. “Akaza…” You said recognising the demon as one that Doma had spoken about on many occasions. “He speaks of you a lot.” “I’m sure that he does.” Akaza muttered as you walked towards you. “What do you want?” You asked. “I want to know what’s so special about you.” Akaza said as he stood a few feet away from you, he was cautious as much as he hated the demon he knew that there had to be something very special about you for him to have kept you at all. “You know the last people to worship him ended up being his food.” He knew that you were hiding something from him but unfortunately had no idea what it was and no time to figure it out. “Akaza, did you come to visit me? I knew that you were a dear friend.” Doma’s teasing voice sounded as you felt him come to stand behind you. “I’m not here for you!” Akaza said. “Why are you keeping a human toy?” “Toy?” Doma asked “She's no toy.” “Yeah sure.” Akaza waved him off, turning away from you both “he’s playing with you, he doesn’t have the ability to love anyone or anything.”

Later that evening you were sitting at the table eating, your hand moving ideally as the small twigs and roots twisted into the shape of the demon that you had met that day. “He’s dangerous.” Doma’s voice made you jump, the figure you were making dropped to the table “why didn’t you get rid of him?” “He was there to figure out why you had me, I thought it better that he didn’t know.” You explained. “Mm.” He hummed. “It’s true that I don’t want them to know about you but if they do ever come here, you have to make sure that you're still here when I get back, I’ll fix whatever happens after that I promise.” “You will?” You asked. “Mm.” He hummed. He knew that he was asking a lot of you but you were powerful and he needed to keep you away from the other upper moon and Lord Muzan himself, he’d kill you without a second thought. “Even if it means I’m the only demon left.” “Won’t you be lonely?” You asked. “Not with you here.” He said. “My precious daughter.”

Request Here!!

[enigma-absolute]

when u get this u have to answer with 5 things u like about yourself, publicly. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite mutuals (non-negotiable, positivity is cool!)

Both you and @choasuqeen had sent me this at roughly the same time, so I guess I’m gonna have to answer this with ten things instead, which is fine!

I was able to cut, sew and stitch on a collar on to my Steve shirt in time to wear it out to my local convention with Blue in hand! Here's one of many photos!

2. Still can't believe I'm saying this, but I managed to rope in three friends to help me sing a cover of 'The Rainbow Connection' for a friend's belated birthday present. I genuinely still listen to it because... wow. It genuinely made both my friend and I tear up when we listened to it together over discord.

(And honestly, we could all do with a bigger choir together...)

3. I'm actually kinda proud of how far my art's come since I started keeping sketchbooks. Looking at the shelf on my right from 2019 to now (though I started in 2013), it's nuts how much I've drawn in those years.

4. On the topic of sewing and sketchbooks, I'm actually kinda surprised I still have bookbound my own sketchbooks, and now they sit in wait to be used someday, ready and waiting in their drawers until I choose the next to go ham with.

5. ...oh my god I still can't fully grasp the weight of having written my show's complete pilot episode, complete since last year for Honours. I know I usually talk and think about it in a very light manner, but dude! I have LORE for that story in SEVERAL notebooks, building and retconning and rewriting as I've gone. I did that??? I DID that?????!!!!!

6. If I really like someone international and online (PLATONICALLY), I'm the kind of woman to mail them physical gifts. The fact that I've sent so much mail and have a minor hoarde of envelopes and sealing wax should say something. This only comes at a certain level of closeness though, since, well, of course. You don't go exchanging physically addresses that easily.

7. Something I hadn’t noticed myself until someone had pointed it out to me is that I’m very outwardly silly in front of my friends. And why shouldn’t I be, I love it! I love that I can say or do something that can make my friends laugh; that I have the lack of care to just do a family guy death pose in a video games shop, get a lab coat for a Beaker Bit, or even have the dumbest grin and cackle while everyone else is done at another dad joke I can think of on the spot.

8. It’s hard to believe it now, but me ten years ago on this hellsite didn’t really have two cares about fashion aside from emulating her idol at the time. Now? I’ve developed some tastes and aesthetics, and while I still have a way to keep growing, I’ve found multiple styles and dream outfits and even outfits I own that not only work in comfort, but also style. Velvet green flared pants? Gold jeans? Bright blue overcoat? Vests? YES.

9. Now that I think about it, I’m… actually kind of impressed with my range of voice acting and impressions? Yes it’s very silly and often for the bit, but I’ve had people compliment my Kermit the Frog voice before, and even if I can’t reach the octave Columbo is at, I can still do the vibes.

10. This is off the back of having a psychology appointment recently, but... I'm kinda proud of how far I've come, honestly. From a lost and lonely and scared girl stuck in NZ to someone about to get a teacher's aide job (hopefully, pray for me y'all!) at her old school's sister school for kids on the spectrum - WITH a Bachelor's and Honours in Animation. In Australia. Who would've thought? I sure didn't. But now I'm here.

[folk-ever-lore]

I Forgot That You Existed

Marinette Dupain-Cheng had left Paris as soon as she could. Once Hawkmoth had been defeated and collège was over, she had said goodbye to the city she had once protected and left for University in the United States. 

It hadn’t been an easy decision but it had been the right one. Being forced into becoming a child superhero and protecting an entire city at such a young age was bound to leave her with at least some ill will towards Paris. Of course, there was also the issue of Adrien Agreste. 

Adrien, sweet perfect Adrien Agreste. Once she’d been head over heels in love with him, or so she’d believed. In reality it had been an extremely unhealthy obsession that had led to the decline of her mental health as she was willing to do anything in order to get him to like her back. Including, but not limited to, stealing his phone, dressing up as a waiter to gain access to his house and stalking him whenever he was around another girl. 

When she’d sat down and realised what she had become, Marinette’s first course of action was to spend as little time around him as possible. And thus moving as far away as possible. Gotham was pretty far away from Paris, right? 

All in all the move, although to the most crime infested city in the world, had been the right thing for her and her life. She didn’t regret it at all. 

Now she had an amazing husband who she loved more than anything (in a completely healthy way), and a whole other crazy family that came with Jason. She, of course, kept in touch with her own family but the Waynes were also her family now. 

She tried her best to attend her weekly therapy lessons because they were a godsend, but sometimes the crime in Gotham just didn’t allow it. Yes, she had chosen to fight crime again. But that was the important part. She chose to fight crime again with Jason’s family, their family. 

Although she didn’t use the miraculous anymore, just watch over them, she had chosen the moniker Ladybird to make a nod to her past hero identity. 

And although this had all been a hugely positive thing for Marinette, she hadn’t been expecting the identity crisis the first time she saw Adrien Agreste in over five years. Adrien Agreste and his wife, an overly blonde model just like him. 

“Marinette,” he cried happily as he came over to her at the latest Wayne Gala. “It’s been so long. I’ve missed you.”

She nodded politely at him. “Adrien. I take it this must be your wife? It’s nice to meet you Mrs Agreste.”

“Please, just call me Sophie,” the woman insisted. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Sophie. I’m Marinette. I went to school with Adrien.”

And as the night went on nothing happened. She didn’t feel drawn to Adrien, didn’t hate him, didn’t want to avoid him, didn’t want to profess her love to him. Nothing. Neutral. Nice 

When the night was over, and the guests were gone, the first thing Jason did was check on his wife. “Are you okay? I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “But I think it went okay. I can’t ever see us being friends, but I don’t think there’s any issues there anymore.”

“That’s great,” he replied with a grin, happy to support the woman he loved in any possible way. “It means that you’ve completely moved on from that moment of time mentally. I’m so proud of you!”

Marinette cuddled up into him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for supporting me. Thank you so much. You mean the world to be.”

“And you mean the world to me too, Pixie. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor’s Mystery Box DLC – “Date” (Eng Translation)

“tu me manques” – You’re an indispensable part of my existence. I’m incapable of being without you.

“j'appartiens a toi” – I belong to you.

“for the rest of our lives, forever.”

The following content is part of the Mystery Box Merch. The contents of the mystery box are exclusive to CN for players who’ve purchased the merch, and won’t make it to the global server! ♡

Do note that, this is not exactly part of the main storyline or the dates. You can treat this as “an independent date” which contains flavors from the actual storyline! A MUST READ!!! 🥺❤️

—

I’ve decided to not translate the “full-on angst” LOL cause it’s TOO MUCH contents. and I just don’t have the energy or the time ;-;

—

Allow me to give you some context from the storyline that are “necessary for the date”, instead of drowning you in the ocean of angst:

The story revolves around the conflict between Evolvers and ordinary people, BS drama, MC’s QUEEN identity and all that thing.

In Victor’s branch, he receives an email from MC which she thought was a spam and accidentally sent to Victor (he gets so “proud” later how he is her “go-to person” LOL 🤣🫀).

MC learns about how Victor got trapped in a phantasmagoria (because cue. the drama mentioned earlier), and figures she is the one to blame because if it weren’t for her – he probably would be living a relatively trouble-free life, and she’s the one who gets him into distress all the time (we see MC doing this continuously from S1 CH 18-21 as well) ಥ_ಥ

Along the way as she (i.e., you as the player lol) solves puzzles, she finds souvenirs Victor had stored to give her cue. more heartbreak. [they are actual souvenirs btw, you receive them with the merch box].

At one point, MC enters Victor’s subconscious mind and CUE. (P A I N + TEARS)^∞. She also sees visions of his time at the Space-Time Bureau, the ten thousand years—

And how in all those countless images in his memory during those years, SHE IS EVER PRESENT, his little secret silver lining to keep himself together.

The answer of a puzzle at a certain stage was – “I won’t leave you alone.” – the reference to his “Homeward Bound R&S”

And we see MC replying to him in her mind,

“Victor, I know... and I won’t leave you alone either.”

MC manages to find Victor in the end, and the two of them work together to find a way to get out of the phantasmagoria cue. more puzzles + playing card games with a mystery man cue. MORE P A I N + more hugs and hand-holding, as always 🥺❤️

While Victor expresses how he is proud of MC and all that, MC asks “how could be he so calm and certain the whole time, what if she failed to solve the puzzle in the phantasmagoria.”

Victor shows MC the cards he had drawn. A straight Royal Flush! MC realizes they could’ve gotten out even if she hadn’t solved the puzzles and asks him why he didn’t use the cards then? He replies,

“I didn’t look at the cards until you solved the password. I believed you could do it. This deck of cards is simply an alternative.”

~ ಥ‿ಥ

MC says that the “goddess of fortune” must be by Victor’s side. And we see him looking deeply into her eyes and saying,

“Indeed.”

sobbing intensifies

Anyway, after they break out of that painful illusion, MC is obviously heartbroken about the memories she saw, but what intensifies that is – Victor still can’t get out of this dimension.

With his reassurance and courage, MC leaves him there to solve more puzzles (but solving the puzzles were really fun tho haha🤡) Anyway, in the end, when MC manages to rescue Victor—

“Victor, I did it. I really have gotten you back.”

we find out—

Victor already knew everything was a trap from the start, and he went ahead after receiving the email from her, because he figured MC could be in danger. It turns out, ultimately he’s the one who rescued MC.

–

[Note: the aspect of “rescuing MC” is the same for all love interests btw ;-; but, their stories of being caught in the phantasmagoria, interactions with MC, events and everything else are different, of course, similar to the main story itself / their dates haha~ 💕]

–

Of course, Victor doesn’t breathe a word about his pain cue. his space-time bureau and other memories MC has seen. MC realizes how it’s not because “she is in his life that he is forced to be tangled in danger and pain,” rather it has always been “his choice to face the danger for her from beginning to end.”~ cue. Victor comforting and reassuring MC how none of this chaos was her fault~ 🥺

[same for all love interest] They catch the Evolver who caused the whole drama yes he has his own tragic story, more Evolver and ordinary people clash, and MC’s QUEEN identity being the “said” reason of it all—— 🤡

[branching out again] In response to Victor’s question, “how does she feel about her QUEEN identity”—

As usual, MC pours her heart out to him and tells him that she still doesn’t know what to feel. But she understands she has to “accept” this identity, and she will focus on the present instead of the future, one step at a time. Because this is what HE taught her you have no idea how I’ve been throwing hands by the time I reached here 😭😭

Ending with——

In this world – perhaps there are many who act in a certain way in spite of themselves, and there is no perfection. But I know that, no matter when or what happens, the six letters “Victor” will be my salvation, my strength, and my anchor in the journey to further beyond.

—

—

✧ [DATE – Part 1] ✧

The color of the sky outside the window is gradually turning dark. I sort out all the materials in my hands, heaving a soft sigh of relief.

It’s a project that isn’t very promising –– it’s about finding and taking notes of those families who have been unfortunately bereaved of their only child due to Evol, so that the entire society can see and pay attention to them.

Over the past few decades, Evolver attacks have resulted in the loss of many innocent lives. Each number represents a family and a painful story.

What happened in that phantasmagoria is merely a miniature version of these countless stories.

Dazed, I ponder for a while before returning to my senses. I lower my head and turn on my phone. The message I sent two hours ago hasn’t yet received a reply.

MC: Is Victor that busy...                     

Recently, LFG has taken on leading a collaboration project with a number of organizations. And as the person in charge, Victor has been so busy that he’s had his head buried deep in work and chaos, so much so that I’ve rarely seen him for a few days.

Every time I see him, it’s just quick glances at a meeting or while giving a report.

I scroll through the message history. He mostly found the time to reply with a “yes,” “redo,” or “talk to Goldman” – concise and comprehensive.

The last reply was at 1 a.m. this morning –– “Souvenir won’t be opening its doors these days.”

MC: Sigh...

I plop my face down on the desk, thinking about how I’m going to send him a text.

MC: It can’t go on like this. Why don’t I find a way to give him a treat?

As soon as this thought pops into my head, I can’t put it off any longer. I prance onto my seat at a galloping speed, ready to pry the information out of Goldman first.

MC: Goldman, I heard that the new project you guys are working on is going smoothly?

Goldman: Where did you hear that? But at least there are no more meetings scheduled for tonight; as of now.

MC: Ah, that’s indeed a help from heaven for me too!

Rejoicing, I dig out the spare key to Souvenir that Victor has given me earlier and tread out into the twilight before he gets off work.

As the sky slowly grows dusky, many people on the road are hurrying back home. I seem to be one of them as well.

When I arrive at Souvenir carrying the ingredients I’ve bought, the last shaft of twilight shrouds the white storefront, suddenly making me feel a speck of softness.

The door to Souvenir is still closed for business. I fish out my key and insert it into the keyhole, only to find that the door is not locked.

MC: That’s strange. Could it be that Mr. Mills is here?

Pushing the door open, I see a ray of light escaping to the dimly lit dining room through the half-opened door of the kitchen. A thought suddenly flits through my mind. I promptly accelerate my pace and run over.

MC: Victor––!

I slam open the half-closed door with a jerk. But to my dismay, even though the light is on, there’s no one in the kitchen...

MC: I guess he should still be at work...

I let out a bitter laugh, but a voice suddenly transmits from behind me––

Victor: What are you doing here?

When this voice, the one I couldn’t be more familiar with, rings out, my nose uncontrollably becomes a little sore. I turn my head impatiently and see Victor standing in the doorway.

He is still wearing his suit; only the jacket has been taken off, the weariness of the past few days lingering in his features. It’s only when he looks at me does the fatigue between his brows dissipate for a brief moment.

Victor: I just heard your voice and thought it was an illusion.

Victor’s gaze travels downward and lands on the key held in my hand, revealing a moment of understanding.

Victor: Why did you suddenly think of coming over?

MC: I just suddenly felt like... I haven’t seen you for ages.

Seeing that I’m still continuously eyeing him up from head to toe, Victor can’t help but break into laughter.

Victor: That’s your illusion.

Victor: Wasn’t it three days ago when you came in to submit a whimsical proposal and put down your grand statement on the spot?

Thinking back to that scene of me strongly arguing on my grounds and ultimately saying, “I will definitely make you guys approve it,” – my eyes can’t help but drift for a moment.

MC: That’s not... it’s because this project is really important.

MC: Although there is some difficulty with getting people invested in the early stage and the promotion of the show...

MC: However, it’s still possible to obtain good returns through a variety of means.

Listening to my frank and eloquent speech, Victor kneads the space between his eyebrows as though having a bit of a headache.

Victor: I’ll ask Goldman to compile a list of some trustworthy organizations to give to you.

Victor: However, I’m still putting my foot down on my original judgment. You can leave this project for someone else to handle.

He pauses in his words, hidden worries floating in his gaze.

Victor: Don’t let what happened in the phantasmagoria affect you too deeply.

MC: I...

MC: I can’t make any promises. The things that happened are facts, and the existence of pain is also real. There’s no use in running away from it.

MC: I’ll do the best of my capabilities to refine the proposal for this project until it gets approved.

Victor’s brows knit together into a tight frown, and I can see clearly that he doesn’t approve of this. I crane my neck and stare straight into his eyes, unwilling to retreat even half a step.

Finally, he sighs softly. Akin to a sign of concession, it causes my tense nerves to loosen up subsequently.

Victor: ...it seems that you end up persuading me every time.

MC: After all, my greatest merit is that I don’t ever admit defeat so easily!

Victor releases a soft chuckle.

Victor: Your self-awareness is fairly accurate.

Victor: I’ll be waiting for your refined proposal. And if it’s outstanding enough, I won’t stop you.

With that said, he crosses over to me and walks into the kitchen, rolling up the cuffs of his shirt several times as he does so.

Victor: Now it’s time for rest. You can set aside work-related matters for the time being.

Seeing that he has started to tidy up the cooking table that hasn't been used in some time, I also pick up a cleaning rag, prepared to help.

MC: Let me help too!

Victor: The cloth you’re holding is not used for wiping the table.

Victor:��Don’t tell me that you especially came here just to clean up?

He turns his line of sight towards the ingredients on the side that I’ve completely forgotten about. It’s just at this moment do I recall the purpose of my coming over.

MC: ! I almost forgot...

MC: Actually, I was thinking that you’ve been working too hard recently, and I wanted to surprise you by trying out a new recipe...

But what I didn’t expect was for this plan to have foil as the outcome as soon as I set foot in the kitchen. Victor laughs softly; evidently, this thought of mine has also crossed his mind.

Victor: Dummy.

Victor: In case I hadn’t shown up, would the great meal you intended to prepare be devoted to your own stomach?

MC: Of course not. I had already inquired from Goldman in advance that you guys didn’t need to attend any meeting tonight.

MC: However, I was planning to call you after everything was prepared... didn’t you say that Souvenir isn’t gonna be open for business these days?

Victor: Looks like you’re in pretty good spirits since you’re talking so much.

Victor: A certain dummy had been drooping her head in depression the other day. So, I planned to try out a new dessert to cheer her up.

Victor: But now, seeing as she is still in the mood to comfort other people, this dessert doesn’t seem necessary.

Even though he says this, a light smile hangs at the corners of his lips.

My heart softens. It turns out that all my frustrations that I’ve painstakingly suppressed laid themselves bare before his eyes regardless.

MC: I’m sorry for making you worried. You clearly have been so busy lately...

Victor: In a few days, this project will reach the end of its phase, and I will hand over the rest to them to carry it out.

Victor: So that we can avoid letting you have the illusion again that “you haven’t seen me for ages.”

He gives me a meaningful look, a smile playing in his eyes. He then turns around to fetch the apron that is hanging on the side.

MC: Hold on a sec! Leave this to me!

One step ahead of him, I snatch the black apron hanging on the wall and hurriedly tie it on myself.

MC: I’m the chef today!

MC: Recently, I’ve meticulously studied a new dish. Although I cannot compare to the Souvenir’s chef, I can still manage to make it work~

Victor raises his eyebrows, a little surprised.

Victor: Are you sure you can do it yourself?

MC: Mm-hmm!! Leave the kitchen in my care now. You go out and get some rest first.

Seeing that he still wants to continue saying something, I rush to snatch his words.

MC: You can wait and see. No worries.

Victor: I’m leaving this all in your hands then.

He releases a chuckle, a handsome arc gracing the corners of his lips.

Victor: Don’t “blow up” my kitchen, though.

After prattling on with confidence, I kick Victor out of the kitchen, intending to implement my plan.

I bend down to open the cabinet to take out the utensils and ingredients, but find that the cabinet door is locked with an intricate combination lock hanging from it.

And the design on the combination lock seems to match the pattern on the Souvenir’s key in my hand...

—

[Players need to find out the answer to the riddle from the Souvenir’s key and commemorative coins they received in the merch]

Answer: TU ME MANQUES 

This is actually one of the most beautiful French phrases ever!!!

On the surface it means, “I miss you.” But the structure of the sentence actually indicates – “You’re missing (from me).” So there’s a deeper meaning to this phrase, “You’re a part of me that I was missing. You’re crucial to my existence like a body organ or blood, and I can’t live without you.”

You’ll see Victor explaining it in a bit. Also, this phrase was on Victor’s 4th birthday karma too! 🥺💘

—

After some careful observation and comparison, I’ve finally figured out the password to open the lock. I carefully turn the gears to the correct letters. With a “click,” the lock opens.

The password above rests on a string of letters – “tu me manques.”

MC: French? It feels so familiar...

My brows crease into a frown as I search through my memory. Suddenly, an image from a long time ago floods into my mind––

–

━━━ [FLASHBACK BEGINS] ━━━

It was the time when Victor went on a business trip to France for more than half a month. When he came back, I especially snatched the airport pick-up job from Goldman.

MC: Tu me manques, Monsieur Victor~

Victor: ...don’t use “Tu me manques” casually with other people. For ordinary relationships, just using “Je pense à toi” would be enough.

MC: Why? Don’t they both mean the same thing?

Victor: [sighs]  “Tu me manques” means more than just “I miss you”...

Victor: It also means, “You’re an indispensable part of my existence. I’m incapable of being without you.”

━━━ [FLASHBACK ENDS] ━━━

–

As I look at this familiar French phrase, a feeling of sourness slowly spreads through every corner of my heart, making my nose tingle.

So it turns out that I’m not the only one who’s been longing for the time spent together with him. He feels the same way too.

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

—

✧ [DATE – PART 2] ✧

After gathering my emotions, I carefully remove the combination lock and put it aside before opening the cabinet and taking out the things I need from inside.

MC: First of all, let’s dice the vegetables...

Lowering my head, I wash and cut the vegetables one by one, following the steps in the recipe. Then, I toss the butter into the pan.

The butter melts into the pan with a soft “sizzling” noise. I, however, unwittingly begin to zone out.

My train of thoughts unconsciously returns to that phantasmagoria. The scenes seem to still linger vividly before my eyes, trying to drag me down into the shadows.

The aroma of food arising from the pan reminds me that it’s time to move on to the next step. I scramble to open the can of tomatoes and prepare to pour them into the pan.

MC: So hot...!

“Clang” –– the empty can falls onto the counter. I draw my hand back in pain and find a red mark on my finger from the burn.

MC: No, no, don’t think too much about it for now!

I turn down the heat and shake my head vigorously from side to side, as though this will toss away all those numerous turbulent thoughts.

Victor: What are you doing?

Hearing the voice, I turn my head and find Victor standing in the kitchen doorway, quietly watching me for who knows how long.

He repeats his words, his eyes seeming to see through all my concealment. But those eyes land on me as they have always had, just like any time in the past – as though nothing has changed, no matter what they’ve been through.

MC: I just accidentally...

For a moment, I find myself unable to find a suitable answer, but Victor doesn’t wait for my explanation. He walks over to me in a few steps, his expression somewhat piercing.

Victor: Give me your hand.

On tenterhooks, I anxiously place my scalded hand behind my back, still trying to find a way to refute.

MC: There are no blisters from the burn. It really isn’t that serious.

Victor takes hold of my hand that I was trying to hind behind me. When he touches an edge of the burned area, I can’t help but draw in a sharp breath.

MC: [hisses in pain] Sss...

Victor: Is this what you call “not serious?”

He frowns at me, his face wearing traces of dismay.

Victor: The first thing you need to do when you get burned is to treat it immediately, not stand around and be lost in thoughts.

Allowing no explanation, he places my hand under the water to rinse it off. His movements, however, are of great care and caution. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, I want to draw my hand out of his shackle, only to receive a faint warning in return.

Victor: Don’t squirm. It’ll still take a little longer to rinse.

Only after confirming that I’m no longer flailing about does Victor take out what appears to be an unopened burn cream from one of the drawers in the corner.

MC: You’ve actually got burn cream prepared here?

Victor: Just in case. Better safe than sorry.

He sweeps a glance over me, pulls out a paper towel, and gently soaks up the water from my hand before squeezing the white ointment onto his own.

MC: I can do it myself...

Not giving me any chance to choose, he lowers his head and applies the ointment to my fingers.

The icy ointment slowly coats my faintly stinging skin. But the truth is, what’s even more powerful than this cold presence is the touch of his finger pads – tender and patient.

Victor: All right, don’t touch the water for a while.

MC: It really doesn’t hurt that much anymore.

I explain with a little guilty conscience. Victor glances at me.

Victor: Didn’t you just say that it didn’t hurt?

Victor: Every time you cook, something always seems to happen.

He looks in the direction of the stove. The fire has been turned off, but there is red tomato juice spilled all over the pan and countertop, akin to a “scene of a tragedy.”

And the tomatoes, carrots, and king oyster mushrooms that have been sliced to different sizes in the pan... are soaked in the tomato juice. The entire composition doesn’t look the least bit appetizing.

Victor: The new recipe you were boasting about – were you referring to making a chaotic stew with seasonal vegetables?

Victor: It really seems like I shouldn’t have looked forward too much to your new recipe.

MC: Actually, that’s only the first step. The next step is to take the ingredients out of the pan, and then...

My mind spins at lightning speed, thinking about how I’m going to devise. Seeing me like this, Victor sighs a little helplessly.

Victor: There’s no next step.

He leans down, reaching his outstretched arms to my sides. The sudden movement causes me to have no other option but look up at his face, making my upper body fall backward––

Victor: Don’t move back. Careful!

Before my back hits the cooking table, Victor wraps his arm around my waist just in time, pulling me back.

The pepper bottle that has been knocked down by his movements rolls away. I stare wide-eyed at his enlarged facial features, my heartbeat involuntarily accelerating a little.

MC: [nervous]  Wh-what’s wrong?

Victor: Dummy. What did you think I was going to do?

My reaction elicits a low chuckle from Victor. His body heat seeps through his arms that are wrapped around me, making me somewhat crave this temperature and reluctant to let go.

But he quickly draws back his arms and unties the apron strap behind me with his fingers.

Victor: If you’re unable to concentrate on cooking with your heart and soul, then you will be just wasting the ingredients.

Victor: Therefore, you’re temporarily deprived of your right to be the chef.

MC: !! I can still try harder!

Victor, however, doesn’t give me that opportunity. He pulls out a folded handwritten card and places it in my hand.

Victor: I’ve written down what I wanted to say to you.

MC: What?

For a while, I find myself unable to return to my senses and stare blankly at Victor. A soft laugh spills from his throat as though he’s pleased with the sight before him.

Victor: See for yourself.

Victor: And if you can’t understand, I’ll tell you again.

His eyes are like the dark, bottomless night, but there’s a tenderness concealed in their depths that no one knows.

Victor: Now, the kitchen should be returned to me.

–

Just like I kicked him out of the kitchen earlier, Victor closes the kitchen door on me.

A small, warm lamp illuminates the dining room, and a soft etude is playing on the stereo off to one side.

Victor: You rest here for a while.

Victor places a glass of warm water with fragrant lemon balm in front of me. As I’m about to say thank you, a cacophonous cooing sound suddenly escapes my stomach.

I lower my head in embarrassment and bury my face in my palms, only to hear a soft laugh coming from above my head.

Victor: It’s already a bit late for dinner today, and there aren’t any ingredients in the fridge. So, we can only keep everything simple.

Victor: I won’t let you be hungry for too long.

Only when I hear Victor’s footsteps gradually receding in the distance, do I lift my face to look at his back, heaving a sigh of relief.

Souvenir’s lounge is utterly empty, and there isn’t a single soul except for me. The gentle piano melody makes everything quiet. I can even hear the minute of movements coming from the kitchen––

The knife’s edge lightly landing on the chopping board in a swift motion, the butter melting on the fire, the water instantly evaporating from the vegetables with a “bzzz” sound…

These sounds portray the methodical manner in which Victor moves in front of the cooking table, like a commander handling a butcher’s cleaver with ease.

The long-awaited tranquility embraces my unease. The mere thought of him being there just across the wall makes me feel at peace.

I compose myself and open the folded letter. The handwriting that I couldn’t be more familiar with comes into my view again––

–

[The letter is a part of the merch players received]:

To Dummy:

When it comes to loving bravado, a certain someone has always been very persistent. Even if your gloom has long been written all over your face, you still have to say that you’re doing fine when it comes to it. Sometimes I really don’t know where this “stubbornness” of yours comes from. There are some things I’ll only say once, so listen carefully.

In the past, you didn’t use to think things through enough and even made reckless decisions. But now, you’ve grown far beyond my expectations. That day in the phantasmagoria–– I’m absolutely certain that I saw a different you. The “transformation” that you, yourself, have been clamoring about has indeed lived up to its name.

In the face of setbacks, you are able to calmly adjust your mentality and confront the challenges with a positive attitude. In the midst of adversities, you are able to stand firm in your convictions and devote everything you’ve got to the unknown future… these characteristics are incomparably precious. But, the outcomes attained from the setbacks and adversities are equally precious too. I’ve never considered them as painful memories, but rather, they are irreplaceable gains on the road to growth in the long run.

From this point of view, there’s no need for a certain dummy to be sullen because of that phantasmagoria. Instead, why don’t you pull out your “vacation checklist” and check out what you want to see and where you want to go. I’m on vacation next month, so I’ll leave the arrangements in your hands.

Victor.

—

After slowly reading the entire letter, I stare at the six letters “Victor” in the signature in a bit of a trance.

Every word of the letter seems to tell me that my anxieties and struggles over the past few days–– he has seen them all.

’That I’m not the only one who remembers how I’ve staggered and zigzagged along this whole journey onward to my growth, transforming through every adversity.

This journey towards hope is a long, long run. But fortunately, there’s another person to accompany me.

MC: Victor, thank you…

I draw in a deep breath and set down the heavy boulder weighing down on my heart, finally breaking into a relaxed smile.

As I put aside this important and precious handwritten letter with great care, I smell a wisp of aroma emanating from the kitchen and can’t help but start looking forward to Victor’s cooking, which I haven’t tasted in a long time.

On the back of the chair opposite the dining table rests the jacket that Victor has taken off. His wallet is also casually placed on the table, an identity card slipping out of a corner of its compartment.

The pattern on the card surface seems to be somewhat familiar-looking. My heart stirs. By some curious coincidence or miracle, I pull it out and quietly scan the QR code on it with my phone––

–

[Tidbits: If your phone supports the NFC function, and you scan Victor’s card – this is what you get *sobbing in hands*]

MESSAGE:

J'ai envie de rester avec toi, toute la vie. 某人念叨的惊喜, 不知道这个算不算。

MEANING:

“[in French] I want to be with you, for all my life, forever.”  The surprise that a certain someone keeps talking about–– I wonder if this counts as one.

–

[Personal Notes]: YESSS!!! YOU GODDAMN BET IT WAS A SURPRISE!! 🥺 Tbh tho, I can’t say I’m surprised that Victor writers would be throwing mega-bombs like this, but still... you just never get used to being loved and cherished in this way... UGGHHH VICTOR WHY ARE YOU JUST SO HNNNGNNNNN 😭💘🤲

–

[Players have to find out the answer to the clue from this game]:

ANSWER: 余生可期

This phrase is actually hard to translate into English. It’s essentially what Victor said in French, but in Chinese, it’s more of a “vow.”

余生 means – “rest of one’s life.” 可期 can have different meanings based on the context. It’s him basically saying, // (if you want) the future waiting ahead is “us, together,” and it’s valid for the rest of our lives. //

—

With great difficulty, I find the final answer. I lightly stroke the identity card with my fingers, a warmth swirling in the depths of my heart.

Who would have known that within it is concealed a cryptic message from his heart?

As I listen to the sound of Victor cooking in the kitchen, a warm current gushes out of my heart, a feeling of stability suddenly coming over me.

In the future that belongs to “us,” we will have each other for the rest of our lives, forever.

–– this is the pledge that he has made to me.

After thinking about it, I take out a pen and surreptitiously write a sentence in French on a corner of his identity card.

This is the answer I wrote to him, and it’s also our secret.

After the ink has solidified, I carefully put the identity card back into Victor’s wallet.

He will find out my little secret when he uses it the next time.

—

┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈┈ ◍♡◍ ┈┈

—

✧ [DATE – Part 3] ✧

Having put away the identity card, I sneak a surveying glance at the kitchen behind me to confirm Victor hasn’t noticed my actions just now.

But before I can heave a sigh of relief, his shadow has already stepped out of the kitchen.

MC: !!

Victor, carrying the tray, crashes straight into my frenetic gaze. He stops in his motion, his eyes seeming to ask me why I’m losing my head in a panic.

I stand up sheepishly, trying to find a justification for my anomaly.

MC: Let me help you with those!

Victor: No need. You just sit tight.

MC: Hmm…

I pretend to be nonchalant and sit upright and still with my hands on my lap, watching as Victor places a plate of creamy-white mushroom bisque in front of me.

MC: So fragrant… it looks super delicious!

Victor: The vegetables you diced have also been preserved.

Victor: Fortunately, the rescue was carried out in time, and the flavor is pretty good.

He sets down another plate of pasta with tomato sauce, filled with side vegetables that I cut up into all kinds of big and small sizes.

The diced vegetables that just earlier looked like the scene of a massacre are reborn after being cooked in his hands. So much so that their different contrasting sizes now have taken on a hint of amusement.

Victor: This is all that was left in the kitchen. The next time we have time, I’ll make something a bit more sumptuous.

Victor takes his seat opposite me, and spreads out the napkin with graceful movements.

MC: No, this is already very good! There’re so many people who would want to eat this, but can’t!

Victor: You can have it anytime you want.

Victor: After all, the key to this place is in your hands.

Hearing what he means, my face turns red. I can’t help but mutter in a small voice.

MC: What’s important is not the key. It’s the person…

I scoop a spoonful of the bisque into my mouth. The rich, creamy aroma diffuses across my taste buds, sliding down my esophagus with just the right temperature.

But I release a sigh inexplicably, squeezing the spoon at the taste that the tip of my tongue undoubtedly is so sentimentally attached to.

Victor: What’s wrong? Is the taste not to your liking?

MC: No! It’s delicious!

I lift my head, locking eyes with Victor’s tolerant and focused gaze. Beneath the warm yellow light, his silhouette seems to be tinged with warm colors too.

He waits for me to brew my answer slowly, neither rushing nor urging me–– as though he has plenty of patience. This is the tenderness that belongs uniquely to him.

My heart grows warm, my eyes crinkling themselves into a smile again to reassure him.

MC: Actually, I just feel a little guilty.

MC: If I didn’t have Evol, the actions of those people wouldn’t have implicated innocent lives, and they wouldn’t have been separated by life and death.

MC: But here I am, I can still enjoy such peace and quiet of everyday life, like a despicable thief…

At this point, I lapse into silence. Suddenly, a large hand lands on the top of my head.

Victor: MC, you haven’t done anything wrong.

His voice is gentle, soft, and certain, without the slightest hint of hesitation.

Victor: It’s not essentially your fault. You’ve simply been given the identity of “QUEEN.”

Victor: And you’re foreordained to become even more powerful. When that time comes, you will be able to dismantle their operations and put an end to this crisis, once and for all.

Victor: And you are the only one who can do that.

“Can I really?”

As soon as this thought flits across my mind, I immediately squash it.

I look up. In Victor’s eyes is reflected my somewhat bewildered gaze, but he only raises the corners of his lips in a soft smile.

Victor: A true “thief” won’t feel any guilt over the matter. Those who initiated the evil practice are the real thieves.

Victor: Usually, you’re a little brighter. How come you know how to bash your head against the wall at a time like this?

MC: In fact, I’ve always understood that there’s no use in being frustrated. The more important thing is the future.

MC: I can do it… no. Yes, I can definitely do it!

I clench my fists and give him a smile brimming with enthusiasm.

Victor: You better keep your word.

He loosens his slightly furrowed brows, the hint of a smile cresting on his face along with it. He then bends down and takes out a doll from a shopping bag.

Victor: I was going to give it to you a bit later.

Puzzled, I meet the Shiba Inu’s giddily giggling face and can’t help but laugh along with it.

Victor: I went to the mall before coming here. Its giggling face bears the most resemblance to you.

MC: …that obviously looks very cute!

I take the silly Shiba Inu and knead its smiling face.

MC: What made you think of buying this?

Victor pauses for a bit, as if he somewhat doesn’t want to answer this question. But eventually, he releases a sigh under my burning gaze.

Victor: When you first gave me your Shiba Inu, you said that looking at its laughter can cure all bad emotions.

Victor: I don’t have a deep experience or understanding of this matter, though. However, this time, I hope it can cheer you up instead.

Victor: This doll, I think, was the one with the happiest grin in there.

–

[Tidbits]: Victor is talking about “Rooftop Date,” where MC finds out about his mom and gives him her old Shiba Inu doll, which her dad gifted her as a kid. She told him–– this doll has accompanied her through laughter and sorrows for many years, and she hopes it can do the same for him now. MC gives Victor the very same Shiba Inu doll in S2 CH 4 as well. 🥺❤️

–

My eyes widen slightly at these words. I didn’t realize that he still remembers these words I once said.

Victor: Now, it seems that it has accomplished its mission very well.

He looks at the doll in my arms with some tenderness in his gaze.

I look down at the Shiba Inu doll, which is smiling extraordinarily happily, and suddenly spot a crown pattern on the doll’s stomach…

–

[Players have to find the answer to the riddle from the B.S. archive they received as merch]:

ANSWER: 我陪你证明永远

MEANING: I’ll accompany you to prove “forever.”

–

I raise my head and look into Victor’s eyes, who’s sitting directly opposite me. Beneath the lights, a soft glow twinkles in his gaze.

It appears that if only his presence is there, the painful and negative emotions that have been pent up deep in my heart will be slowly dissolved by his silent tenderness, bit by bit.

’Because I know that no matter what happens, this person in front of me will accompany me and face it together with me.

I hug the Shiba Inu close to myself and can’t help grinning gleefully from ear to ear.

MC: Hehe…

Victor: Don’t just giggle. Your dinner will get cold if you don’t eat it.

At his reminder, I feel my stomach rumbling with hunger again. I fork a piece of potato and stuff it into my mouth, the soft and filling flavor making me squint in happiness.

MC: Tasty! The taste is entirely different from what I’ve practiced before, though.

Victor: If it were to be the same as your craft, Souvenir would go out of business tomorrow.

MC: I at least get the pass mark, right? I had a bit of irregularity in my game today.

Victor: When have you ever played properly, though?

MC: Although your point is very valid, I still do a passable job once in a while.

Turning my grief and indignation into appetite, I curl up the pasta and bring it to my mouth, then squint my eyes cheerfully.

The dissipation of the dark clouds reinstates my good appetite once again. Happily gorging myself, I soon polish off the plate full of pasta.

Victor: Can you still eat the dessert?

Though having just yelled-- “I’m so full,” I immediately react to the sound of his voice and look at him with anticipation written across my entire face.

MC: Is it the new one you mentioned?

Victor nods, but with a hint of rarely seen hesitation.

Victor: This is the first time I’ve tried making it, and the procedure is quite complicated. So, the taste may not be a success.

Victor: Don’t hold your expectations too high.

I never thought I’d actually hear such words from his mouth one day. I gaze at him in wonder.

MC: Y-you actually have moments when you’re not sure of something…

Victor: When something is important enough to you, it’s only natural that uncertainty will arise.

A ripple flashes in his eyes as he gets up and brings the dessert from the kitchen.

The dark blue ceramic plate gradually transitions outwards to a lighter blue, with a moon-white sphere inlaid in the center of the dessert, surrounded by little white specks on all sides as they create a starry sky.

It’s reminiscent of the vast universe in which all human unease and angst are nothing more than just an insignificant speck of dust.

Victor: Try it. You are its very first taster.

I cautiously and solemnly cut a small piece off the edge with a dessert spoon before carefully taking it into my mouth.

MC: Mmm…

The first sensation on the palate is a slight bitterness with a hint of fragrance, followed by a sweet aftertaste that pervades the tip of the tongue as the bitterness returns to the fragrant sweetness.

The crispy outer shell enveloping the soft, fluffy interior is akin to a freshly made soufflé. Only at the most appropriate moment can a flavor this wonderful be born.

Victor: The procedure of making this is different from what I’ve done before.

Victor: I tried it a little. A bit of bitterness can make the entire flavor a lot richer.

Victor explains in a light-hearted manner, as though he is simply talking about something that couldn’t be any more ordinary.

But I know that because of the recent collaborative project, every minute and every second of his time is awfully precious, and he doesn’t often even have the time to reply to messages.

Victor, who values efficiency and results above all else, spent his time on this little dessert, just so he could cheer me up.

The faint bitterness in my mouth has already faded away, leaving only the profound sweetness that engraves itself into my memory.

MC: It’s yummy~ This must be the second best dessert in the entire world! Only lagging a little bit behind your pudding!

MC: Merci, Monsieur Victor~ 

I look at him with immense seriousness as I speak. In exchange, my exaggerated tone of voice earns a soft chuckle from Victor.

Victor: Why are you suddenly speaking French?

MC: Because the cabinet in the kitchen was locked earlier, and then I found something…

I drag on the tail note of my sentence and stare at Victor’s face. However, Victor remains utterly unfazed, looking calm and composed as he picks up the black tea on the table and takes a sip.

Victor: What did you find?

Seeing that he isn’t taking the bait, I roll my eyes and open my mouth in a manner as though I’m hinting at something.

MC: Mm, that’s confidential! Who knows, perhaps you might find some trail in your identity card?

Victor arches an eyebrow, dropping a sentence as usual.

Victor: Deliberately creating mystery.

Despite saying this, he still opens his wallet as I have hoped and takes out the identity card that I put back in earlier.

At a glance, he sees the newly scribbled small line of handwriting on the corner: j'appartiens a toi.

–– “I belong to you.”

As Victor looks up at me with some surprise, he is met with my triumphant smile. Consequently, he also perks up the corners of his lips into a smile.

Victor: Dummy, you don’t need to say it to me. It’s not like I don’t already know that.

—

——__——__——

[Extra]:

btw, the meme I was talking about in the tags is actually this one LOL 🤣😭

—

[flslp87]

Updated 12/30/2022 for New Year’s 2023

It’s been three years since I put together this little ficlit together. But every year, I pull it out and add to it. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll have a complete story.

Life has changed a lot for many of us since OUAT ended. While I’ve not been writing (or really even reading) fanfics, I haven’t said goodbye to writing, though. I’ve been writing small town mystery romance. My books are available in all Estores. You can check them out here.  Swan Harbor Books 

Some of my friends that I met through our love for CS @imagnifika  @duathadun @lfh1226-linda and Maggie for hanging with me through it all. 

My hope is for 2023 to bring peace and happiness to all. Remember - without hope, there would be no happy endings. 

This ficlet follows canon from my Season 7 Canon divergent -- A Happy Ending Begins with Hope. It can be found on AO3, FF, and tumblr with gifs. 

Summary: Hope has a date.  How will her family react?

Hope’s New Year’s Date

Words ~ 1500

During Hope Jones’ young life, Storybrooke had gone through many changes, and none more so than around the holidays. They had town Easter Egg hunts, fireworks and picnics in July, bonfires for Halloween, family feasts at Thanksgiving, and caroling at Christmas. 

Hope had memories of each one of them. However, there was one event that she had been looking forward to for years, and that was the Snowflake Ball. 

Held every New Year’s Eve, the Snowflake Ball was only for those who were sixteen and above. Everyone brought out their formal clothes and danced until midnight. And, if she was lucky, the man she was crushing on would ask her to go with him. 

Gideon Gold was ahead of her in school and so dreamy, he made her head spin. Plus, when he looked at her with his chocolate brown eyes, her heart raced, and her breath stuck in her throat. 

She’d been crushing on him for years, but it had only been in the last six months that he’d given her the time of day. Did that mean that he was seeing her as more than a girl? If so, was it possible she’d finally get to spend the evening with him — as his date? 

Two weeks before the New Year’s Eve Ball, Hope was at Granny’s with her best friends, Melanie and Robyn, bemoaning the fact that Gideon still hadn’t done as she wished. Her only saving grace was that he’d not asked anyone else either — of that, she was sure. So far, she’d tried everything she could think of to let him know she was available. At the speed he was moving, though …. 

“Earth to Hope.” Melanie snapped her fingers several times. “Earth to Hope.” 

“I’m sitting right here, Melanie,” Hope grumbled. “What’s the problem?” 

“You were staring off into space again,” Robyn replied. “Were you dreaming about Gideon?” 

“Shush,” Hope hissed. “He’s sitting right over there!” 

“He can’t hear us,” Melanie assured her. 

Hope glanced over her shoulder toward where Gideon was sitting with her uncle, Neal, and had to agree with Melanie. There was no way they could be heard from that far away. 

“You should have told your uncle to tell Gideon to ask you out,” Robyn suggested. “It would have saved a lot of circling around each other.” 

“Don’t you know circling around each other is part of the fun?” Hope grinned. “Or at least that’s what my mother says.” 

“You don’t believe her, though. Do you?” Melanie followed up. 

Hope glanced up from where she’d been pleating and unpleating her napkin. “Why would you say that?” 

Melanie nodded down at the table. “Because you’re nervous. If you were having fun, you wouldn’t be nervous.” 

Did she agree with her friends? She wasn’t so sure. Yes, she enjoyed flirting with Gideon. But it would be so much easier to enjoy flirting with him, if she knew what he thought of her. 

“You could ask him, you know?” Robyn offered pragmatically. “This is the twenty-first century, after all.” 

“I know,” Hope sighed. “But …” Again, her gaze was drawn over her shoulder to the table where Gideon and Neal were still involved in a deep conversation. Robyn was right. She could ask him. 

“Go on,” Melanie encouraged. “But what?” 

Hope shrugged. “My father is a little old-fashioned and well …” 

Robyn frowned. “But didn’t I see in the book that your mother asked your father out first?” 

“That was different,” Hope murmured. “My father didn’t think he was good enough for my mother.” 

“And you don’t think that’s an issue with Gideon?” Melanie asked. “After all, his father and your father have a history.” 

“Which I’m fully aware of,” Hope snapped. “But I want him to ask me. Do you think I’m expecting too much?” 

“I would say ‘have hope,’” Melanie grinned. “But something tells me you don’t need it.” 

“Why?” 

“Because,” Robyn tipped her chin slightly in Gideon’s direction, “ he’s headed this way.” 

“He’s what?” Hope squeaked. 

“On his way over,” Melanie whispered. 

Hope glanced over her shoulder, and when her gaze briefly met Gideon’s, her heart dropped into her stomach. 

Oh my! Oh my! Oh my! She leaned on the table. “How do I look?” 

Melanie rolled her eyes. “You look fine. Stop worrying.” 

“Hope,” Gideon’s aftershave titillated her senses, “can I speak with you for a moment?”  

Hope’s gaze slowly lifted until her blue eyes clashed with his dark ones. “Sure.” She wanted to roll her eyes at just how breathy she sounded. “Can I help you with something?” 

Gideon’s gaze touched on Melanie and Robyn, then back to Hope. “Can we speak alone? Would that be alright?” 

“Oh, Okay. That would be fine.” Then she wanted to roll her eyes at how ridiculous she sounded. 

“Can we talk now?” Gideon asked again. 

“Go on,” Melanie mouthed. 

Hope took a nervous breath and slid out of the booth. The butterflies in her stomach took off at once. It forced her to focus on putting one foot in front of the other as she followed Gideon across the floor. 

He led her around the building to a secluded corner and crowded her, pushing her to back up against the wall. Being close to him was everything she’d ever wanted, but now that it was happening, her heart was racing, and the urge to giggle was strong.   

“Is this okay?” Gideon asked hesitantly. “I noticed that—“

“—Everyone was staring at us?” Hope muttered. 

“Yes.” Gideon smiled. “Are you okay with that?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well,” he went on. “Our fathers …” 

“Will never be best friends,” Hope replied. “Why?” She hesitated for a beat. “Are you scared of my dad?” Then she wanted to smack herself in the head that those words had fallen from her mouth. “Scared?” Gideon laid his hand on his chest. “Me?” 

“There’s no one else out here.” 

“I’m not scared.” Gideon propped one hand on the building next to her head and leaned in a little closer. “Should I be?” 

“It depends.” 

“On?” 

“Why you brought me out here?” 

Gideon’s gaze dropped to her mouth, then right back up. It caused her lips to tingle and made her wonder what it would feel like if she just went for it. 

“Hope.” He brushed her hair behind her shoulder and took a half step closer. His dark eyes mesmerized her, and his heat reached out. “I was wondering if you would go to the Snowflake Ball with me?” 

Her breath caught, and the words Be cool! Be cool! were on repeat inside her head. But having Gideon ask her to go to the dance had been her dream for longer than she could remember. “Yes!” She fought to keep from squealing. “Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.” 

A slow smile crawled across Gideon’s mouth. “You will?” 

“I will.” 

His eyes twinkled, and before he even opened his mouth, somehow, she knew what he was going to say. “And you’ll protect me from your father? If it’s necessary, that is.” 

Hope giggled. “I’ll protect you.” 

“Good,” he replied in a husky voice. “I’ll pick you up at 8:00 p.m.”  

“I’ll be waiting.”  

Gideon brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “We’ll have fun.” 

Her breath hitched, and she fought to push the lump in her throat down. “We will.” 

“Shall we?” He inclined his head toward the diner door. 

In a daze, Hope followed him back inside and slid into her booth seat. “Well,” Melanie and Robyn cried simultaneously. “What happened?” 

“What happened?” Hope asked absently. 

“Did he ask you to the dance?” Melanie pushed. 

“Did you say yes?” Robyn followed up. 

“What are you going to tell you parents?” Melanie questioned. 

Hope glanced from one friend to the other. “What do you mean?” 

“You know the history between your fathers,” Robyn stated. “Will there be bloodshed?” 

“Bloodshed?” Hope giggled. “Aren’t you the one who said this is the twenty-first century?” 

“True,” Robyn sighed. “But that had nothing to do with the possibility of a duel.” 

Hope rolled her eyes. “There’s not going to be a duel. Everything will be fine.” 

“Good luck with that.” Melanie smiled sympathetically. “I’m glad I’m not you.”  

“Gee, thanks.” Hope glanced over her shoulder in Gideon’s direction again, and their gazes clashed. “I told him I’d protect him if I needed to.” 

Robyn waggled her eyebrows. “But who’s going to protect you from Gideon?” 

“Do you think I need to be protected from Gideon?” Hope murmured. “I’m not so sure.” 

“I guess it depends on what you want,” Melanie replied. “What do you want?” 

Once again, Hope’s gaze clashed with Gideon’s. What did she want from him? The memory of how he’d made her lips tingle when he’d looked at them had her turning back to her friends. “What do I want?” 

“Yes, Hope,” Robyn nodded. “What do you want?” 

“A kiss,” Hope sighed. “I just want a kiss.” 

***

Fin ... at least for now. 

Will she get it? Should the story be finished? 

Happy 2023! May all your dreams come true.  

Tagged a few people who were on the initial one.

@sailormew4 @annaamell @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven​ @charmingturkeysandwich​ @jennjenn615​ @kimmy46​ @snowbellewells​ @iamanneenigma​ @daxx04​ @nickillian​ @in-spirational​ @gillie​  @britishguyslover​ @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst​ @kmomof4​  @linda8084​ @golfgirld​ @captain-swan-coffee​ @searchingwardrobes​ @hollyethecurious​ @laughswaytoomuch​  @allyourdarlingswans​  @winterbaby89​ @facesiousbutton82​ @therooksshiningknight​, @lfh1226-linda​ @tiganasummertree​  @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic    @everything-person @girl-in-a-tiny-box @resident-of-storybrooke @qualitycoffeethings @sherifffjones  @countrybroadwayprincess    @tiganasummertree   @hufflepuffinstorybrooke   @kristi555    @nikkiemms @gingerchangeling @marcella2727    @idontdothatveryoften @lady-bell

[sweepseven]

Cirque du Soleil Drawn to Life review

I intended to write this review when it was still 2022. I really let work get ahead of me. And then the holidays. And then work again. And then Las Vegas where I saw two more Cirque shows and still hadn’t gotten my thoughts out properly about this one. I haven’t been this delayed since Crystal, and that is not fair to say because I am surprised and delighted to report...

Drawn to Life is a treasure. 

I am still stunned by how much I liked it. I’ve never held onto negative Cirque assumptions so firmly only to find them so utterly destroyed by the end of the show. It is indeed different than a typical Cirque show, but it is not the Disney marketing mayhem I expected it to be. This is a true celebration of the art of animation, something I did not think they would be able to achieve, or worse, were secretly not interested in achieving at all. I was wrong. 

There were some weak and intriguing spots: times when technology obscured acts, odd plugs for franchises I can’t imagine anyone ever really cared about, skepticism over whether this show demands to be seen more than once (and the implications for longevity that carries). I also question the efficacy of celebrating hand-drawn animation in a way that Disney has very publicly abandoned in recent years (tons more on that later). But this show unquestionably achieves a feat CdS has been chasing for some time: a true partnership that marries client vision with Cirque magic. It was neither too Disney nor too Cirque - it was a spectacular, playful, and heartfelt blend of the two. Childish in the best sense.

Act by act and all kinds of more thoughts below. This is a long one.

Theater/Animation - the lack of renovation is apparent. La Nouba is still very much in the room - though the new set is huge and stunning in its own way, there is something about the rest of the theater that feels like it belongs to something else. Shape of the stage, carpeting, seating arrangements, that kind of thing. The stage was playing dress-up. I wonder if people who hadn’t seen La Nouba felt similarly.  

The Animators invited kids in the audience to create drawings, which were then projected onto the huge paper sheets that make up the set. It was a lovely hint to the way the show would later utilize the space. There was something about the female Animator that caught my eye and I couldn’t get Klara out of my head... and it turned out to be Ekaterina Pirogovskaya! So lovely to see her perform again, and it’s such a testament to her incredible mime work that I recognized her so quickly. 

The pre-show announcements/warnings really prepare you for how kid-focused the show is going to be. “Tell your parents to silence their cell phones,” that kind of thing. 

Opening - verrrry overt. There is a long voiceover in which Julie's mother reads a letter her dead father left behind for her, telling her she’s old enough to start using his old animation desk and would she please finish the animation he left behind for her. Mr. Pencil - whom I was prepared to hate and whom I still believe has one of the worst costumes in CdS history - is an immediate analog for the father, not dissimilar to Quidam’s John.

Rhythmic gymnastics - a team of gymnasts perform a synchronized tumbling act (same team that closed out Varekai). Through timing and sharp poses they form frames of animation in a very creative and effective way. 

Aerial pencil - this was the moment I became sure I had been deeply wrong about this show. Not only was the act itself fantastic, but the way it used the space was remarkable. The artist draws on the stage with the pole and its marks are projected both on the stage and on the sheets above. I distinctly remember a big spiral turning into the Fairy Godmother’s sparkly little entrance and was enthralled. It’s difficult to communicate just how remarkable the union of act and set are here

Stilt walking - this was less an act and more just something that happened for a while. Lion King music strikes up and there was a big gasp of anticipation from the audience, but what follows is a guy on - admittedly - incredibly tall stilts, but there’s only so much you can do with that. It’s brief and a mismatch for the rest of the show. 

Juggling - I don’t really care about juggling but oh my god do I care about this juggling. Similar to how rhythmic gymnastics was an overt reference to animation frames, this act is a lesson in the squash and stretch principle of animation, and the classic ball example becomes the balls the juggler manipulates. 

The real star of the act though - THE REAL STAR OF POTENTIALLY THE ENTIRE SHOW - is the pillow. Oh my god that fucking pillow. When he’s first mentioned in the opening (the favorite pillow Julie used to hug while she watched her father animate), you’re like okaaay, I get iiiit, she’s a kiiiid, move along. No. This is no mere childhood signifier. This is one of several true kernels of magic in this show that forcibly yanks every adult in the audience back to a state of childlike wonder and pure love. Everyone knows what it feels like to have a security blanket, pillow, stuffed animal, whatever. And having this one along for the ride is a direct assault on the heartstrings. There’s a part later on in the show when he inches across the entire stage to settle next to a sleeping Julie. Like. Just kill me. Drown me in my own tears.

I cannot say enough about this fucking pillow.

Anyway I’m pretty sure there’s juggling in the juggling act but mostly there was the pillow. He yodels in this act. He has a little microphone. He has a little cowboy hat. Perfect no notes give the pillow a Grammy let me take a bullet for the pillow.

Cradle wheel - neat visual wholly undermined by the artists’ safety lines. They should have just lowered the entire act or given them a net. Instead the silhouette of the artists against these beautiful, great swipes of color is interrupted by the constant reminder of safety precautions. There are other ways to keep artists safe that doesn’t diminish the impact of the act.

Unicycle - one of the best acts in the entire show. Five artists, all women, all meant to be the Blue Fairy, glide across the stage in some of the tightest and most precise patterns I’ve ever seen. The real magic, though, is in the artists themselves. I can’t imagine there was a single little girl in the audience that didn’t want to be them. It was beautiful. 

Double wheel - cancel all Cirque wheel of death acts that aren’t Kooza’s, all the rest are pointless. This one in particular is almost entirely obscured by all the projections in the background, and it all happens so fast (and twice over, given that it’s two wheels sharing an axle) that you never really know what you’re looking at. Very cool that they use The Old Mill as the basis for this act, though. (Also turns out I took a wheel of death class from one of the artists! Hi Junior! Sorry your old boss asked me how your show was and the first word I picked was “cute!”)

Hand to hand - really really pretty and delicate. The mother and father share a dance, and it’s held against other famous Disney dances like Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, etc. to demonstrate the admiration Julie has for the love they shared. But this was the opposite of cradle wheel - instead of doing too little to hide safety lines, here they did way too much. What makes the act unique is how the mother slides effortlessly into poses with the help of lines, but they have to light the act very dimly to make it look real. Instead I would have liked to see them own up to the lines, maybe incorporate them, and the act could still have been as special while also being, y’know, visible. 

Teeterboard - pointless tbh. Like I thought we covered squash and stretch with juggling. Why are we doing it again, and why are we doing it so obnoxiously? There’s nothing here that’s not already done better in Mystere, Kooza, Corteo, and believe it or not Paramour. This act could be cut with zero harm to the show. 

Russian swing - I thought nothing could top unicycles until this. This act is a work of pure feminism. It actually didn’t occur to me how feminist this show was until this moment, and then I looked back and was like shit, it was right there the whole time! How lovely to have a story about an aspiring female animator, and how invigorating to punctuate her story by surrounding her with her own work, female Disney characters, and an entire team of female Russian swing artists. The crowning moment was a long dive from Pocahontas projected onto the sheets that pairs beautifully with one of the biggest tricks in the act. Completely phenomenal. 

Finale - I’ll be honest I don’t think I remember the finale very clearly. Pretty sure I was in tears so that’s gotta be part of it. She finishes her father’s animation in a stunning and emotional moment that does a fantastic job of tracking the nonlinear path to success of an artist. She thanks Mr. Pencil, the Animators turn out to be the father’s dead contemporaries (which I LOVED omg), I imagine she hugs her mom and the pillow. Bows. Tears. Love. 

Clowns - fine! Unobtrusive, which is my favorite thing for a clown to be. An animation desk turns into a big horse puppet, which is kind of neat but repeated so many times you’re a little bit like, “uh, why.” 

Miss Hesitation - like Mr. Pencil, I was prepared to hate her. Incorrect. She was a treasure. A little shrill at times, a little repetitive, but all was outshone by the utter pleasure of seeing Virginia again. She lends an almost inexplicable amount of charm to what could easily be a very irritating character. I know I spoiled basically this entire show but I won’t spoil what happens with her, because it’s everything you want. 

La Nouba references - there are three: two in the music, the first of which had my hands flying to my mouth to keep me from saying “oh my god, oh my god” aloud. The second is less obvious and harder to catch. And the third is a small toy train that chugs the length of the stage. All three were extremely thoughtful and touching - wholly unnecessary details “only true fans will know” in a way that clearly communicates gratitude to audiences past and respect for the show that preceded it. 

Music - largely forgettable tbh. The music mostly glides from one motif to the next with few pauses to help distinguish one piece from another. It was somewhat generic “theming” music, sweeping orchestrals in that classic Disney style. It’s just a four piece band and their costumes are rough, but they have a few cute highlight moments throughout the show that ensures everyone knows they’re there. 

Costumes - bad. Like across the board really not good. The ones that aren’t bad are forgettable because you’re too busy thinking about how bad the others are. Weirdly Miss Hesitation’s wasn’t the worst offensive, nor even Mr. Pencil’s. That title probably goes to the guy who’s only thing is... having a lot of mannequin hands attached to his shirt. Why on earth. 

Things I didn’t need

1) The giant hand. Why. Why are you here, and everywhere, constantly. Are you supposed to be Micky Mouse’s glove?? Why are you in stilettos? Kindly leave.

2) Julie saying “let it go.” The only English words spoken aloud in the show, and it’s a cheap Frozen joke. I genuinely tensed up thinking we were about to be bashed over the head with a Frozen segment.

3) All the Pinocchio references?? You could be reading this thinking “surely it wasn’t that many.” I assure you it was more. He was everywhere. On the giant paper sheets. As a prominent wire sculpture set piece. Just all over the place. I was constantly asking myself whether they were gearing up for a live-action remake. As far as I know they didn’t have anything to do with Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio, so what’s the excuse? Do kids even like or care about him? Do parents let kids watch that anymore, or is it widely considered to just be creepy and pointless as hell? Stromboli had a pretty significant place in a little villains segment. You know, Stromboli!!! The beloved villain!!!! Everyone knows and likes him!!! Doesn’t he give Pinocchio cigars or smth??? True icon. You know who wasn’t in that segment? Fucking Jafar. But boy oh boy did we get Stromboli. What the fuck, truly.  

Outstanding questions

1) Isn’t this show kind of a Disney self-burn? It’s entirely about the artistry, impact, and beauty of hand-drawn animation. But... they don’t really do that anymore. And the quality of their work has plummeted with each successive year. It’s bizarre to see the rough pencils that became the Beauty and the Beast ballroom scene, for instance, and then in the next moment be looking at that horrific dragon from Raya and the Last Dragon. It would be one thing if the more recent works had much heart to them, but they largely do not. The quality does not match up decade over decade. This show does a splendid job of celebrating the artistry and development of animation over time... and then suddenly you’re looking at some of the hollowest works Disney has ever created set right alongside historical advances in an art form.

2) How long can we expect it to last? I assume they could refresh it quite often with new acts, featuring new movies, highlighting other old classics in different measures (like chilling the hell out on Pinocchio). But something about Drawn to Life does not invite you to see it again. It’s very honest with its emotional intent, but that approach also locks it into a single interpretation that is somewhat at odds with the makings of an enduring classic. La Nouba you could see dozens of times and still see a new show each time - there was so much detail, so much depth, and it was best appreciated with years between viewings. Perfect for, say, an expensive vacation destination, right?? But once you’ve seen Drawn to Life, you’ve seen it. There will be no deeper meaning, there will be few new details. It’ll tug on your heartstrings just the same, but you won’t suddenly empathize with the Titan when last time you couldn’t look away from the romance between the Lost Ballerina and the Masked Pierrot. It is exceedingly effective in its target audience: children. But its audience will outgrow it whereas La Nouba grew alongside its audience. 

---

Is this the longest review I’ve ever written? I’m exhausted. This is my catnip though - something with a lot of content to pick apart but also a lot of production questions worth teasing out. I love to examine circus in context, and this partnership offered a very unique opportunity to do so.

Anyway go see Drawn to Life, become a child, have a blast. It’s a lovely show.

I hope it enjoys a long run. I’d personally like to see it again, because I like to see practically every show again. But I’m interested to see how it develops. 

[ruminate88]

Truth About Narcissists Abuse Survivors

I know for me, I felt so bad about myself after. The way I was discarded by two different men whom I began to trust and believe they had my back, only to find out that they could care less about me. 😔😔😔

Heres a revelation I’ve had today:

When the narcissist is first drawn to you, it feels so random but truly they see something in you they want to have within themselves. They see you for who you really are (even though they wear a false face themselves) They mirror you during the love-bomb phase, so all that incredible “love” you felt, was all you. You have soooo much love in you!! After all, a relationship with a narcissist is one sided!

The narcissist will say to you, “I’m not worthy of your love” and “You deserve better.” They mean it honestly. That’s the one only honest thing you’ll get out of them. They’re actually paying you a compliment even if you don’t feel like it is one.

After I broke up with my ex, Andrew, who couldn’t repay all the love I gave him but he wouldn’t ever break up with me because he didn’t wanna lose all that I was giving him essentially… He said to me, “I thought you had your life all together.” BUT what he didn’t understand, is, I was in survival mode for years. I was busy taking care of everyone around me but me and I was fighting silently to stay in the game of life. I hadn’t given up and I was way stronger than I ever knew. 😳

What my ex said really stunned me. As I thought to myself, “Who really has their life all together?? Isn’t life about learning from your mistakes???”

Also I never realized the compliments my ex was giving me and the reason he treated me so poorly after we broke up was out of envy and his last attempt for control over me. I was his “care taker” for months. I gave him so much of my love and support. I got him through his sophomore year in college but I had neglected all my own needs for his. It was a great relationship, FOR HIM and ONLY HIM! He got to use me, only talked to me when he felt like it, cheated on me and lied to me like crazy, all while I waited at home for him every night, crying with my phone in my hands, begging him to text me and tell me he’s sober and safe…. (I cared soooo much about him)

I don’t regret being with him. He did teach me a lot about my self and how strong I actually am. That man sat with me during a suicide attack and told me how I “wasn’t well” and needed to make serious changes in my life and I needed to get help that “I had issues”. He made me look like I was the bad guy and he was the innocent one. I know he did it out of envy because he lied/cheated knowing I was 100% faithful, loyal and loved ALL of him even his flaws and he couldn’t understand why someone would be that way nor could he even accept it. He certainly couldn’t give me back any love or honesty.

He would continually say to me “you’re the sweetest girl I ever met”. Even when we were breaking up, he kept saying it. Maybe he meant it, maybe he didn’t. 🧐 Yes he treated me horribly but I realize his personality is poor and possibly he came from a toxic environment growing up that I knew nothing about!!! He hid me from his mother the whole relationship and got upset when I found her on Facebook. (There has to be a good reason why he hid me from her)

I hope this encourages anyone out there who’s been discarded, like me, by a narcissist. You’re stronger and more beautiful on the inside than you even realize! I know you feel so bad because you tried so hard to love them and they continuously rejected and neglected you. Just know they actually want to be more like you but feel they literally can’t. 🥺🥺🥺

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Sixteen Part Three

We are joining Gwen back in Pangbourne. Jimmy has finally returned! Chapters will go back to regularly scheduled posting. Enjoy!

Word Count: 6.5k

Table of Contents

She finished the dusting with one final swipe and smoothed down her sweater. She walked from the living room to the kitchen, surveying her handiwork. The carpet was vacuumed, the first floor was dusted, and the dishes were done. The house smelled like vanilla and laundry detergent.

Lucy jumped on the counter and sat beside her busy hands, tail swaying as she cut a watermelon. The long silver knife glided through the grainy meat of the melon and slid out with a squelching sound as she went to the next section. She sliced the red body, producing a long and thin strip. She worked until the chunk was free to slide into a plastic bowl. Pink sticky juices pooled under and around the ridges of the bowl, creating a mess Lucy was impatiently waiting to slurp up. 

The sun was brighter this day than it had been all month. Streams of white light trickled in through the sliding glass door that was positioned between the living room and kitchen. Sallow shapes sat on the counter, created by the curtains that framed the kitchen window. 

She looked out the window as time slipped by. She couldn’t tell if two minutes or hours had passed. The days all seemed to melt together, molded only by the monotony of waking and falling unconscious. Even work was stilling into a boring chore. 

The only chip in her tedious tasks was Lucy, who was brushing against her legs. The familiar tickle broke her from the staring spell. She looked down at the pile of partially cut fruit and sighed. She’d made a mess. 

It wasn’t long before a car pulled into the driveway. Gwen hadn’t finished dicing the pears before the front door opened with a creaking welcome whistle. She made her way to the hall to see Jimmy. 

There he was, standing before her, and now he had a beard. A beard! She couldn’t believe it. His face was soft and round as always, now complete with a thick tangle of facial hair. His eyes were clear and tired, a dichotomy that created an innocent look. He looked so dapper.

He stripped the scarf from his neck and hung his coat up. Then he was left in his sweater. Before she could say anything more Robert was trailing in behind him. 

“Gwen, hi,” his voice was soft and round and filled the hall. He too had a patch of facial hair growing in, but his was blonde and short, much shorter than Jimmy’s, “you look ravishing. Love that sweater on you, dear. Do you have any tea? And the bathroom, I need it.” 

“Hi,” She smiled and stepped closer to hug him, “yes, we have tea. I’m finishing it right now. I can’t believe you guys are back. It feels like it’s been an eternity.” Her hands brushed against the smooth material of his coat. It was soft and pleasant as his presence. 

His hands were on her arms. He hadn’t taken his coat off yet. It was puffy and made of patterned fur. It looked a bit ridiculous but she thought he made it work. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it? Especially since we’ve seen each other.” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

He flashed his leatherette smile, thin and cheesy, but stunning nonetheless. “But the bathroom, love, where is it?” 

She laughed. “The one on this floor isn’t working right now. You can use the one upstairs between our bedroom and the spare room.” Her words sent him up the wooden stairs, each one creaking under the weight of his bounding step. 

"Is that my sweater?" Jimmy asked, his eyes fixated on her with a sweet glaze. She smiled, her lips pressed together and drawn into a plump line. Her cheeks were tinted pink. "Yeah. I missed you and it smelled like you." He grabbed her hands and held them, looking at her eyes. Her pupils were wide, the black circles drawn to the edges of her irises like curtains framing windows of golden light. Her cheeks were pink like roses, her lips were Christmas poinsettias he waited all year to press his hands into. They hid away in the hall, the only light came from the window on the front door and a candle on the table beside them. Wax dripped from the mouth of the white glim, collecting in a puddle around the bottom. The droplets hardened before more could fall. The warmth from her hands and smile were melting him too, and now he flowed from her soft frame like wax. He was gathered in a pool at her feet, staring up at her shining face. "I missed your scent too. Your hair smells so good. And your skin... I don't know what lotion you use, but it smells so good. Like home." She giggled. "We should get back before they start to wonder where we are." "Or," he took his hands from hers and rested them on either side of her face, "I could do this for the time in weeks." He kissed her, gently and sweetly. She swooned. Oh, how she had missed the feeling of his lips. He was such a good kisser. Now she was a waxy puddle on his patent leather loafers. When he was finished, pulling away only to breathe once more, she wrapped her arms around his torso. She lay her head on his chest and breathed him in. Not just his scent, but his esse. He had such a pervasive quality about him. It was tangible, she could consume it. He turned to walk away but she held on, stopping his movement. "Shall we get back?" "I just want to stay like this for a little bit longer. I've missed my Jimmy." "I can't say no to that." He embraced her, clasping his hands on her back, and rested his head on hers. They stood in the hall for what seemed like an eternity. They had returned to the place where only they existed. God shook the contents of the Earth from the grassy bulb and left the lovers to lie in their regard. They apparently had been hiding away for too long. Their guests had begun to look for them. Robert asked the girls where they could be and Carmen took it upon herself to lead her parents to the two. "There you are. We were wondering where you'd gone off to." Robert smirked in the pallid light. Jimmy and Gwen separated, feeling caught. Like two teenagers, they stood away from each other and looked sheepishly at their friends. "It's a good thing Carmen is such a good detective. Who knows if we'd ever find you two if she hadn't been here." The baby smiled at everyone, content with her father's praise. She had inherited his love of the spotlight. Just as he, she never tired of hearing a stream of good words about herself.

-

She went to the kitchen to start the tea. She rifled through the cabinets to find the box of Yorkshire Gold, the tea that Jimmy always served. She remembered seeing the box on the counter the day his mother stopped by. The visit wasn’t very long but Gwen stayed upstairs all the while. Jimmy never told his mom she was there. 

He’d told her about Gwen, how deeply he felt about her, and shoving her away upstairs made him feel awkward. He felt like she was a secret. He didn’t want to share the love he’d found, he was afraid of it being tarnished. His mother could tell something was off but she didn’t comment on it. Patricia was a deep and intuitive woman, two qualities she passed on to her only child. 

Gwen found the box as the kettle began to squeal. She put it on the counter and swiveled around to move the metal pitcher off the hot burner. She’d never used a kettle before she met him, he turned her onto the ways of British tea and the tradition of preparing a tray for guests. It was fun, it was something that she felt was always missing. She liked to take care of people and this was a suitable way to do so. 

She couldn’t find the sugar bowl. She remembered washing it last week when she did the dishes, but it was nowhere to be found. Her hands searched around the countertops and cabinets to no avail. 

She reached into the cabinet next to the fridge and felt around on the second shelf, teetering on her tip-toes and slapping her hand against the wood. Then she ducked down to the compartment next to the stove and looked into the dark expanse. What she was looking for wasn’t there either. 

Before she could pull her hair out he appeared. He watched her mind work for a moment as he leered in the doorway. 

“What are you looking for?” 

“Oh fuck!” She turned to look at him, hands grabbing at her chest. “You scared me.” She was smiling now as he strode to her. She stood to meet his height. 

He put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her, deeply and fully. He hadn’t felt her lips on his in two weeks and it was far too long. He missed the way she smiled against him. He missed her hands reaching under his shirt to scratch at his skin as their connection lingered. He missed the smell of her on him. 

“I missed you,” She said. 

She was looking at his eyes, feeling their intensity once more. Today they were full of admiration, hope. They were round and shining like freshly polished store-front windows. The green was light, almost mossy, an effect brought on by the sun filtering in through the windows. 

“I missed you too.” 

She fell from his spell when she saw his eyes shift to the counter. He saw the kettle, box of tea, and cups. The tray lie on the table, where it stayed for a week collecting dust, and the cream was in the fridge. He smiled. 

“You’re preparing tea.” 

His accent was smooth like butterscotch, soft like fresh linen. He was breezy and gleeful. The sunlight agreed with him. The vacation had soothed him. 

“Yeah, and I can’t find that fuckin’ sugar bowl. We’ll just have to put honey in it or something. Maybe I’ll just pour loose sugar into everyone’s hands and they can lick it with every drink.” 

He shook his head with a chortle. He beelined for the pantry. He remembered that she put the sugar bowl with the corning ware last time he was home. Lo and behold, there it was. The round, white dish was adorned with red roses and a heavy lid of the same design. 

“Treasure at last!” He cried, swinging his arm forward to reveal the sugar bowl. He pulled the diadem from the cavernous depths of the slender pantry and lay it out bare before her eyes. 

“You’re a lifesaver! Now help me make the tray.” 

They stood together and loaded the tray with everything they needed, right down to the matching china set. He was very precarious about little tchotchkes and trinkets. He liked anything porcelain and old, everything charming and matching. This particular set was from the mid-1800s. He bought the set at a thrift store with Miss P. in San Fransisco, back sometime early last year. It had four cups, two plates, eight saucers, a teapot, a sugar bowl, and a cream pitcher. 

He sounded like the kettle when he found the set. It was a dream and for a great price. Even Pamela was surprised to find such a steal. She had a good eye for second-hand items, she found a plethora of dresses, hats, and shoes in thrift stores. She even bought a few scarves for Pagey that he still held on to. He was a sentimental man and cherished a nice gift. He never told Gwen the scarf she wore to the train station was a present from another woman. 

He was careful with the set on the plane ride home. He wrapped each piece neatly in his clothes and placed them in his carry-on. When he brought them home he washed them carefully. He set them out on the counter to admire for the two weeks he was home. He thought about them often when he was away, imagining the set sitting in the pantry, waiting for him when he returned. 

They made their way to the living room. He carried the tea tray, partly for the chivalrous nature he possessed, and partly for the guilt he felt over the train station scarf. 

“There’s ‘ole Pagey, always the gentleman.” Said Robert. 

“More like a housewife,” Gwen commented. 

Everyone laughed and he set the tray on the coffee table with a grumble. The cups and plates rattled as the silver tray settled against the tabletop. Then Gwen spotted the toddler. 

"Oh my God, that is the cutest baby I've ever seen!" 

She ran to Carmen, surrounded by toys. She slapped two blocks together, seemingly unbothered by Gwen's presence. Her hair was tousled and wild from the nap she’d just woken from. 

"Hi there, I'm Gwen. Can I play with you? I love blocks!"

The small child looked at her with bemusement. She nodded and put a purple block in Gwen's hand. 

"What are you building? Can I help?" She looked at the child with the softest expression she could conjure. Her voice was pitched up and slow. 

Carmen nodded again and put another block in her hand, this one blue. She pointed to the small tower she had built, rather it was three blocks stacked on top of each other.

Gwen thought it must be wonderful to be so small, to have the world at your feet and no responsibilities or troubles. Just blocks and nap time. What a life... 

"How many can you stack?" She asked.

"Four."

"That is four, good job! You know your numbers. Much better than me. I can only count to five," she grimaced.

"That's good," Carmen murmured, a smile on her face. “Five is good.” 

Gwen laughed, her heart lurching with happiness. Carmen’s blonde hair and sweet nature reminded Gwen of her little siblings. It had been far too long since she'd seen them and she felt happy to be around a baby again.

"Do you want the red?" She asked, moving a pile of red blocks toward Gwen.

"Yeah, I like the red. Do you?"

"No."

"Why not? I think red is a fine color. Do you like purple better?"

"I like blue."

"Yeah, blue is a nice color too. Do you think it looks better if we put three of the reds and then two purples on the tower?"

"Blue."

"Okay," Gwen said, putting another block on the tower. It was getting tall now and began to sway.

Jimmy looked at his girlfriend, who was sitting criss-cross on the rug. It warmed his heart to see her and Carmen. He thought about what she would be like as a mother, an idea that passed briefly and without his permission. He shoved it away as quickly as it came. 

He turned to Robert and went back to talking about the album. His voice faded into Jimmy’s ears, a steady drum that was interrupted and caused a staggering beat. 

"-not really true though, I think your playing on That's The Way was fine. Do you think-"

"That's what you might think, but it could be better. I don't expect you to have a good ear for that sort of thing." Jimmy steamrolled Robert’s point. 

"You always tell me when you think I can do better," he grimaced.

"That's because you're a singer. Everyone can sing."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His tone turned sharp at Jimmy's words. 

"Nothing, I just meant-"

The tower had fallen. It landed with a clinking sound as the wooden blocks fell on top of each other. It was a mess of colors and shapes. 

"Oh no!"

"No, the tower!" Gwen said, picking up the pieces with haste. "Do you want to rebuild it?" She petitioned. 

Carmen tossed aside a handful of blocks. Her sights were set on something better. “No. I want to play with Peaches.” 

"Peaches?" She asked, looking at Maureen and Robert.

"Oh, that's her doll. Hold on, I'll get Peaches for you, baby." Maureen dug around in the diaper bag for a moment, cursing as her hands searched blindly. She produced a cloth doll wearing a pink dress and matching bucket hat. Red shoes and yellow yarn hair accented the doll's plain face. 

"Peaches!" Carmen was up from her spot on the carpet and ran to Maureen. When she reached the edge of the couch next to her mother's feet she latched onto the toy. She wrapped her arms around it, nestling her face into the soft body of Peaches the doll.

The four watched as Carmen found her spot on the rug and began cooing to Peaches. She ran her hands through the doll's sparse hair and rocked it in her arms. Gwen once again swooned over the cuteness of the child.

"So, we got some good stuff recorded," Robert spoke up, pulling the attention from his daughter.

"Oh yeah?" She asked haphazardly. Her attention was on Carmen and helping her put Peaches to bed. She was the laziest bag of stuffing Gwen had ever met. 

“Mmm, absolutely. I think these are our best songs.” Jimmy nodded. 

“I agree. I felt so inspired there. It was so easy to write. I felt like the sunlight cracked my soul open like a hammer to a geode, and a sacred water could flow so easily. I feel… eased.” Robert spoke slowly and fluidly, charismatic and whimsical as always. 

“Wow, it sounds like you guys had a good time,” she said. She looked at the two of them, their crossed legs pointed in the direction of each other. They were smiling, smitten at their achievements. She thought they looked like an old married couple. 

“Oh, it was wonderful! I only wish you had come, darling.” Robert sighed, theatrical as always. 

She smiled. “Yes, yes, it’s such a travesty that you got to make and record your wonderful music unimpeded by lil ole me.” 

“What about you, Maureen, did you have a good time?” She asked. 

She was surprised Gwen had asked. “Oh, yeah, it was great. Except the outdoor toilet!” She glared at Robert, still pissed that he hadn’t told her about it before she agreed to go. 

He pursed his lips to hide his smirk. “I’m sorry, love, but it was for the greater good.” 

“Outdoor toilet? Wow, you guys were really roughing it.” 

“Yeah, there wasn’t a shower or any hot water either,” Jimmy commented. 

“I know! You told me about it in your letter. That sounds awful, I would’ve hated it.” 

“Yeah… that’s why we have these lovely beards,” Robert paused to stroke his patch of blond hair, “I guess we’re just… wilderness men…” 

Maureen furrowed her brow and grimaced at her husband’s dramatization. “Oh, shut up, you complained about it the whole time. You were afraid to go out and use the toilet the first night. He made me go out with him and hold the flashlight!” She laughed with a snort, slapping the arm of the chair she sat in. 

Robert frowned. “Okay, okay, no need to share such a thing!” 

-

The conversation has stopped flowing. Gwen turned her attention back to Carmen and their game of house, and Robert was angry with Jimmy. He had dismissed his work on That’s The Way and it left him feeling sour. Maureen wanted to go home and shower and was decidedly quiet. 

The day was dragging on into the early hours of the evening. Gwen wondered if they would stay for dinner and hoped they would. She missed having the company. She missed entertaining. 

She’d spent too much time on her own. She felt like she was going crazy, possibly turning into a madwoman. It was only a matter of time before she started talking to the wallpaper and seeing figures in the molded ceilings! 

Robert sat up from the couch with a loud yawn, too loud, Jimmy had decided, and smacked his lips at the end of his inhale. His arms were outstretched but quickly fell back to his sides and he rested once more before speaking, “I’m starving! Do we have any nibbles?” 

“Nibbles?” Gwen snickered. 

“A snack? A starter? Elevenses? I just want something to eat.” 

Gwen stood and started to make her way to the kitchen with a nod. 

“I’ll come with you, c’mon,” Maureen stood from the couch and followed the redhead to the kitchen. 

The two women scavenged the fridge and pantry to create a suitable spread. Gwen pulled the chopped pears from the crisper drawer and Maureen found crackers in the pantry. 

“You know he’s thinking about you as a mum, right?” Her voice startled Gwen, who was still hiding away in the fridge. 

She scoffed. “What?” She turned to look at the dark-haired woman, confusion, and shock on her features. 

“Yeah, he totally is. You might not think so and he might not even realize he is, but he is.” 

“No, Jimmy’s not like that. I’m not like that.” 

“You can think that all you want but he is. He sees you with Carmen and his mind fills in the blanks. Magically, her hair is red and her eyes are green. The idea of baby names and toys strewn about the house has crossed his mind in the last half hour.” 

“You might think you know him but you clearly don’t,” she continued to package the fruit away and put the stack of dishes in the sink, “Jimmy and I don’t want kids and we’ve never talked about anything like that. We haven’t even been dating that long and it’s not going to be that long-lasting, I can guarantee that.” 

This woman doesn’t even know me! Does she even know Jimmy? She just thinks she does because they spent the last two weeks together. Maybe he said something to her to make her think he feels this way. 

Gwen turned to inquire about the more lurid details of the trip but Maureen was already carrying the tea tray away. She was left with the terrible thought that Maureen had put into her mind. He was thinking of the future. 

-

They left an hour after Maureen’s comment. Robert shook her shoulder, causing her to wake with a bewildered look. He scooped Carmen up with a smile and they were on their way. 

Maureen’s assertion shook Gwen. The serious Scorpio caused a stir within her. She tried her best to push the thought away but it rattled her still. She was troubled as she cleaned the dishes, a habit she was trying to implement after dinner. 

“Hey, love,” He said, standing behind her in the kitchen. He admired the way the overhead light bounced off her hair. 

She turned to face him with a smile. She was still getting used to the beard. 

He walked over to her and pushed her against the counter, pressing his hips into her. The jagged pressure from his hip bones caused a sound to erupt from her lips. 

“Awe, you missed me, huh?” He asked, his breath in her ear.��

“Obviously,” she said. 

He pulled away from her, freeing her from his grasp, “Well, I missed you,” he pushed a clump of her hair over her shoulder, “a lot. So much, in fact, I wrote you a song.” 

Her lips broke into a smirk. “A song? Oh, c’mon, can you get any more romantic?” 

“No, I really can’t.” He shrugged. 

“Well, let me hear it.” 

So he did. They sat in the living room on the couch. The room was lighted only by the fireplace. He sat with his feet propped on the edge of the coffee table with his guitar. The hollow instrument hugged his lap and began to sing as he started strumming. 

It was a light and slow song, a melodic crooning that caused emotion to swell within her. Like a cork working its way from the neck of a wine bottle, the last two weeks of emotions that were stored away erupted. She was welling with tears. 

He was much better at conveying his feelings through music. His fingertips were speaking for him as they caressed the cool metal of the strings. 

When he stopped playing his lids opened with a feather flutter to see her. Her mossy eyes were sparkling, wet with tears. She sat with hands covering her mouth. He smiled, cocking his head to silently ask what she thought. 

“I loved it, Jimmy,” she said, her hands moving to his. He put his guitar aside to meet her halfway.

“I’m glad you like it. I wrote it after you called me last week. I was just filled with such…strong emotion. I missed you so much and hearing your voice just inspired me so much. You opened something up, touched something inside me.” 

They waded into the small pub, finding their way to the counter in a single file line. Robert held Carmen on his hip and Maureen hovered beside him. Jimmy leaned awkwardly on the counter as Robert asked for the owner. 

“Hey, Rob!” The red-faced man cheered as he appeared behind the bar. 

“Mich, how are ya?” He asked, equally as excited but quieter. 

“Not too bad, not too bad. The wife here needs a rinse and Jim needs to call his lady.” 

“No issue! You can head back to the showers upstairs through that staircase over there,” Mich pointed to a narrow cubby that heralded stairs. Maureen looked unsure. “Awe, c’mon, lassie, you can do it! I promise the showers are clean. The missus’ scrubbed the tiles just yesterday. Scouts honor.” His voice was thick, his words coated in mucus and Welsh. 

“Phone is over there, help ya-self, mate.” He looked to Jimmy for only a moment, off-put by his shlocky demeanor. His eyes were dark and his facial hair was grown out oddly, by all accounts he was a wilderness man. 

Jimmy paced over to the rotary phone and stuck his index finger into the 0 hole. Then, 2, onto the 0 once more. It felt strange to dial his own number, no matter how many times he’d done it to reach her. He waited for a moment or two, listening to the dial tone, and finally caught her voice. 

“Hello?” 

“How’s the cottage been treatin’ yuhs? I hope it’s not too cold in there,” Mich spoke through a mouthful of chicken. He picked at the roast potatoes on his white porcelain plate as Robert sat Carmen on the bench. 

“Wonderful, actually. Not too cold, luckily. We’re finding it… quite illuminating. So much inspiration there.” Robert eyed his plate, feeling the burning hole in his stomach. The drive to the pub was longer than he’d imagined, he skipped lunch to record with Jimmy. His guitar-gifted friend was a frequent fan of fighting off his famished state to work and he had to follow suit. 

“You want something? Sam has just made some roast, it’s excellent.” He ignored Robert’s words to swim in the expanse of his eyes, noting their ethereal azure quality. 

“That would be great.” He put his attention on Carmen, who began to babble and spit. “Use your words, love!” He patted her back until she turned a smile. 

“What about you, huh? Are you hungreh, little lass?” Mich asked, looking down at the grinning girl. 

“Yes!” She slammed her open palms on the bar with a wet smile. 

The two men laughed. 

“You’ve got toad in a hole?” Robert asked, his hand still on Carmen’s back to ensure her balance. 

Mich scoffed. “Do we have toad in a hole? How long have you known meh?” He left his words there and went into the kitchen, coming back with two plates of breaded sausages. He sat them on the bar, two forks joining soon after. “Didn’t know if any of your guests wanted any. We have plenty if they’d like to join you.” 

“I don’t know about Mo, but he won’t partake,” Mich’s eyes followed Robert’s fork as he used it as a compass to alert the group to Jimmy. He was leaning against the wall, his hip and shoulder taking the brunt, and grinning ear-to-ear as he spoke into the receiver, “he’s trying to watch his girlish figure.” 

Mich bubbled with laughter. 

“Well, I’m just glad she hasn’t spared my feelings! I mean, she’s been on a rampage the last two days. She whined for thirty-eight minutes yesterday because she didn’t want to wear her jumper. I was about ready to scream!” Jimmy sighed into the receiver.

“Oh, c’mon, she’s two.” Gwen rolled her eyes on the other end of the line. 

“Darling, you don’t understand, she’s been a pain in my arse for the last week. I can’t stand it any longer, I swear. I know I’m never having children because this is awful. Anytime Robert tries to calm her down she throws an even bigger tantrum.” 

Gwen sighed. “She is two. She doesn’t know how to regulate her emotions so she can’t detail why she’s so upset. You just have to be patient.” 

“I just wish they wouldn’t have brought her.” He grumbled. 

“Okay, now you’re just being bitter! She’s cute, isn’t she?” 

“Oh, yeah, if you like annoying little monsters.” 

Gwen chortled. “You’re the worst, you know that?” 

“Feel refreshed?” Robert asked as Maureen sat next to Carmen at the bar. 

“Totally. Finally got to shower and get off all this nasty dirt. Carmen wanted to play in the mud yesterday and I had to tell her no. Of course, she threw a fit and ended up getting all dirty anyway. Sometimes I just want to ring her n-” 

“Phone is open to anyone who needs it. I’m hitting the shower next.” Jimmy was standing between the family, looking over Mich’s shoulder. He was surveying their alcohol stock. No Jack. 

“I suppose I should go then, huh? Bangers and mash for lunch, Jim, you should eat.” Robert patted his back and made for the staircase. 

They returned to the cottage with fresh eyes. The space felt cleaner now, with the dirt from under their fingernails wiped. Maureen was happy to have her hair washed, although it was still wet and cold. 

“I’m going for a nap. When I wake, you and me are hitting a recording session,” Robert said. 

“Right,” Jimmy replied. 

Robert kissed Maureen before going into their room to sleep. His steps were cumbersome from his tired feet. It didn’t take long for him to fall into the bed and drift off. His limbs became light and his features melted into a relaxed state. 

Maureen took a bundled Carmen out back to play with her wooden blocks and cloth-bodied doll. She had begged and pleaded all day to play and was finally receiving her wish. In the warmth of the mid-afternoon, Maureen felt it was safe to go out and lie in the grass. After laying a blanket down, of course. 

Now in the solitary confines of the silent living room, Jimmy sat in his chair by the freshly lit fire. Sparks of heat flashed off the wood of his guitar and created a balmy canvas for his hands to paint by. 

His deft fingers twirled around the strings and tried to configure a sound, but all that was heard in his mind was the echoing of silence. 

He thought for a moment, then two, of what to play. G-minor, MAJ-7, F, C6, Db. No… those wouldn’t work for the alternative tuning he had created. He sighed and sat the instrument down. 

With nothing left to occupy his hands, his thoughts wandered back to a familiar home. A mecca, his mind made a pilgrimage to the altar of his love. He thought of her. 

Her lips grew into a smile, splayed open to reveal her rows of straight, white teeth. He wanted to kiss every wrinkle and touch each line. He wished to be the reason for her smiling, wanted to be at the receiving end of the glorious sound that emitted from her happiness. 

Her shoulders bounced, dancing in a cordial display of how smitten she was. 

-

My Dearest Gwen, 

It is lovely here. The trees, the flowers, the grass… it’s all wonderful. I feel at peace. I feel like I can breathe again. You have no idea how great I feel! I didn’t realize how much tour was taking out of me until the second day of our trip. 

Robert and Maureen are interesting, to say the least. I can tell that they really love each other. It’s beautiful to see but it makes me miss you so much more. Sometimes I can still feel your hair between my fingertips, your skin on my lips. This morning I could’ve sworn my pillows smelled like you. I must be getting lovesick. 

While I am happy to be here, I can’t say I am not frustrated. I miss you and I miss our little home. The last day I was home was the best day I’ve had in months. I wish to spend all my time curled up in bed with you and Lucy, reading, making love, (of course that wouldn’t entail Lucy), and playing music. I suppose I could have my cake and eat it too if you were just with me. 

Strider and Carmen are two specimens. The former is a wild spirit with a fondness for drooling on meI almost had a freakout last week because I had no clean trousers! But he’s a good boy. He is very obedient when Robert is giving the commands. He can sit, lie down, roll over, and even shake hands. It’s very cute, but I must say that I like cats more. Especially Lucy. Carmen is adorable, but dear god is she a screamer! I was awoken yesterday from a nap by one of her tantrums. 

They left me with her today and I felt terrible. I didn’t know what to do with her. I asked if she wanted to play and when I said yes she covered my head in a blanket and ran around me in a circle. I was perplexed. But hearing her little giggles was enough. I can understand why people have children. Watching the three of them play house is tooth-rotting sweet. Robert has so much love and care for the girls, it’s a side of him I haven’t seen so intimately. 

Our relationship is starting to shift. We’re growing closer. I could consider him a real friend after this trip, I believe. I used to be closer with Jonesy, but now I feel Robert is taking that role. He’s incredibly insightful and witty, very musically knowledgeable, of course. He cares so much and knows what his limits are. 

We got into a bit of a spat when we first arrived but things are okay now. We discussed it, surprisingly. He caught me when I was a bit drunk if you could believe it! We spent that night, the three of us, drinking and sharing embarrassing stories. It was a wild night but one that ended sweetly. I was happy to reconcile with him. I realize now that I reach too quickly into anger and isolation. There isn’t a reason to be so cold. 

I hope you are having a good time at home, keeping Lucy entertained. I miss you both, as I have said. I don’t want my whole letter to be about how much I want to see you, but I can’t help it. I long to feel you once more, to have another night like our last. 

Anyway, I must end this now before I run out of things to tell you about. It really is quite boring here. No electricity. I had to do my business outside! I believe you would love it here, with all your impish hippie ways. 

Your man, 

Jimmy.

Taglist:

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin  

[angelsfalling16]

Books I Read in June

I’m trying to get back into reading a bit more because I’m pretty sure I only read like 3 books last year, and reading is what helps inspire my writing. I thought it might be fun to share what books I’ve been reading plus a few of my thoughts on them, starting with the books I read in June.

Kate in Waiting by Becky Albertali

I really enjoyed this book at the beginning, but once I began to realize how the book was going to end, I started to like it a little less. Kate and Andy’s dynamic was really fun and their “communal crushes” was interesting, if not a little weird. I just hated that Andy had to lie to her while she was still crushing on Matt. I do like the way it all turned out in the end; it was just a little painful to get there (and not in a fun way).

Love, Creekwood by Becky Albertali

I’m going to be completely honest here and admit that I didn’t actually finish reading this one. I don’t know if it was because it had been so long since I read the other books or because I didn’t like they style. I usually really like epistolary-type books, so it was probably the former. I just couldn’t get into it because I didn’t feel very close to their story.

In Deeper Waters by F.T. Lukens

In keeping with being honest, I have to say that it took me over half the book to really get into it. It felt like the story was too slow at first and then too rushed. Tal and Athlen’s journey felt really drawn out without actually drawing me in, and once we got to the good part where Tal was back home and everything was happening, it felt like it all happened too fast. I really enjoyed reading Tal’s interactions with his family, and their dynamic was so well written; I wish we had gotten to see more of that. And more of Athlen getting used to everything on land. Altogether, I really liked the book; it just left me wanting more, and I’m not sure if that was a good thing.

One of Us is Lying by Karen M. McManus

I actually read this book a few years ago, but I decided to reread it before reading the sequel. The ending was a total surprise back then, which is what I really love in a mystery novel. It wasn’t as fun reading it the second time around already know how it was going to end, but it was interesting to go back and notice some of the details that I hadn’t before.

Little White Lies by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

I love mystery novels, and this one was no different even though I was a little hesitant about the premise of this story at first. The book had me guessing the whole time, trying to figure out who Sawyer’s father is, and I even loved seeing her make friends and all the new revelations along the way. I like the way this story played out, so I’m not sure if I’m going to read the sequel.

Husband Material by Alexis Hall

I absolutely adored this book, and you can read my more in-depth review in this post if you want.

The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

I tried reading this book a few years ago, but I barely made it 100 pages in before it triggered me so bad that I couldn’t open the book again. Now that I’m in a much better place, though, I was able to pick up the book again and read it in its entirety. The slowburn of this story nearly killed me. I’ll admit that I didn’t really care for the adventure aspect of this book (which means I probably won’t finish out this series) but I was really interested in how Monty and Percy’s relationship would play out. It hurt me deeply every time that they would come together just to be ripped apart again, and the only thing that kept me reading was the hope for a relatively happy ending where they would somehow work past their differences and end up together. So, I was very pleased with how this book ended.

As a little bonus, here are some the books that I’m going to try to read in July:

 (I know; I can’t believe I still haven’t finished AWTWB.)

[muselexum]

@akagamiko​ sent: [ LAST ]: a letter sent in the aftermath of the writer’s death.

letters -> [meme]

When Shanks walked into Akane’s room on the Red Force, he could almost be fooled into believing that not much of anything had changed. It still looked lived in, as if she could walk through the door at any moment. A part of him hoped for it too, no matter how irrational. Maybe if he just spent enough time waiting then maybe, just maybe, for once in his life he would be spared the grief of being left behind, and she would walk through the door. 

But she wouldn’t.

And as he sailed to where Whitebeard, Ace, and her other fallen crewmates were laid to rest so she could be by their side, he wondered if things could have ended up any other way. If only he had known about her sooner, if only he had protected her more--

If only he had never parted ways with Eliza.

But the world wasn’t fair, and the world wasn’t kind. He knew that. Lived by it. Still, wasn’t burying the daughter he had only just discovered too cruel? His and Eliza’s daughter. From the moment he saw her, he knew that she was theirs and he had loved her beyond comprehension. He hadn’t known that such a thing was possible. His world had shifted, but it had felt so natural and right. She was his daughter, and it was like twenty years of lost love flooded into his heart all at once.

He had failed her.

As he sat on the corner of the bed, staring off as his mind threatened to consume him, his eyes were drawn to a piece of folded paper on her night table. He wasn’t sure what he felt in that moment-- both hope and dread. As much as he wanted to grasp onto any remaining presence of her, he wasn’t quite sure how he could handle reading her words post-mortem.

He leaned over, the high amounts of rum in his system making his fingers clumsy as he reached out to grasp the letter. He stared down at it, and that was when he saw it. The same ‘rune’ he had engraved onto Eliza’s necklace, written on the outside. A new layer of grief hit him with the realization that this had been prepared. A pre-meditated letter. Surely she hadn’t been expecting to die...? There was something about it that just made him want to fall on his sword. The idea that she had been preparing to die, and he had been right there clueless to it. 

He maneuvered the letter with his fingers, opening it up to see her handwriting.

Hey,

If you’re reading this then it means that I didn’t get to it first and rip it up. It’s a little weird writing this knowing that it’ll only see the light of day if I’m dead, but I’ll try. I owe it to you.

I want you to know that none of this is your fault. I chose this. You know, since two years ago I think I’ve been waiting for my time to die. I never wanted to admit it to myself, but I’ll finally admit it here. There’s a part of me that wants to fight to survive no matter what, but there’s also been a growing part of me that’s been ready for my turn. I thought it would get better with time, that I’d find something new to live for. I know a lot of the others have moved on, but I can’t. Every day I wake up and wonder why someone like me is still here and why someone like Ace isn’t.

All my life, at least since mom died, I was searching for something. I didn’t know what it was until I found the Whitebeard pirates- or they found me. They saved me. I felt like I wasn’t just living, but happy to be alive. Then they were taken from me, once, twice, then again and again until almost none of them were left. Am I cursed? I know it’s probably self-centered to think that I had anything to do with any of it, but everyone I come to love dies and I’m left wondering if maybe I shouldn’t love or exist at all. 

I love you though. Have I ever told you that? I’m sorry that I’ve been difficult about it, and I’m sorry that I’m leaving you behind after my whole spiel about wondering why I get left behind. Since we’ve met I’ve been putting you through hell haven’t I? I’m sorry. It was hard getting used to having a father, but I’m glad I finally knew what it was like to have one.

I know you’re in pain right now, but I want you to know that there’s nothing you could have done to change my decision to fight against him. I would have always found a way to do it. I needed to do it. I would never have peace if I didn’t. None of this is your fault. This daughter of yours was just a lost cause before you ever stepped into the picture. I’m glad you still did though. I couldn’t have asked for a better father. Thank you for loving me when I didn’t want to be loved. You did all that you could for me, please know that.

Goodbye, Akane

P.S. I better not be seeing you any time soon. Don’t do anything stupid like me.

[amoveablejake]

My Five Key Songs of May 2023

Rounding off spring. 

Most months when I write these introductions to the key songs pieces I say how I can’t believe how we’re already here at the round up. For the last couple of months, they have felt very long indeed and as I look back now it does feel like my trip to Paris was a stretch ago but May, I’m not entirely sure where its gone. When I was looking over my May playlist it felt almost like I hadn’t spent much time with the songs in it at all. Ofcourse, I have spent countless hours with them but I think May have just rolled on and all the music has blended with it. There was however, a clear choice to be my song of the month but before we get there, lets take a look at what other tracks make the list. 

First up, ‘Work’ by Gang Starr. 

They say that first impressions are key and I suppose that is true but sometimes, what matters is the second or third take. For instance, I tried to read ‘The High Republic: Light of the Jedi’ twice without it clicking before returning to it over the past month where now it clicked so much I couldn’t put it down and I am now on book three of the series. As for Gang Starr, when I first started to listening to their music, don’t get me wrong, I liked them, but they never really made my monthly playlists. For whatever reason though I was drawn to Gang Starr one Friday a couple of weeks ago and they ended up providing the soundtrack to the day and now their work is really clicking with me so much so, I find myself wondering what I was thinking about before. But really, I kind of like when something doesn’t click right away because it means that when you do really get in sync with it, it almost feels like you have earned the connection. Whilst Gang Starr may not be the key song of the month this time around, I have a feeling that will change at some point during the year. 

Second up to bat, ‘Across the Stars’ by John Williams. 

As I mentioned above, I have been reading quite a few Star Wars novels over the past month or so, ever since Celebration really, and often when I am reading my novels I am listening to Star Wars soundtracks to help build the atmosphere. One song from the soundtracks however, that always leads me away from the page and to truly listen to it is ‘Across the Stars’. The love theme for Padme and Anakin is a beautiful piece of music that Williams has also made ever so heartbreaking. Its gentle melodies often give way to grand, sweeping orchestral swells that could perhaps feel out of place in a love theme. Certainly, it is a different choice and it almost suggests that there is darkness coming. Ofcourse, I have absolutely no idea about that and I’m sure it will all work out fine. Right? Right? John Williams’ orchestral work for cinema is second to none and whilst we all know the classic, iconic pieces I do think that ‘Across the Stars’ should perhaps be counted among them as the thought and care that has gone into it with the story that it tells, it is nothing short of sublime. 

The third choice for May, ‘In the Meantime’ by Spacehog.

To be honest, I really wasn’t sure about including ‘In the Meantime’ and as I write this I am still not sure. There have been songs that I have listened to over the last few weeks a lot more than this but its not how much I’ve listened to a song that means it gets onto the playlist, it is the feelings that it has inspired and the impact it has had. ‘In the Meantime’ first came to my ears when a stripped back version of it was featured in the inaugural trailer for ‘Guardians of the Galaxy: Volume Three’, at the time the song struck  a chord with me as I got more and more excited for the third and final installment of the Guardians of the series. In the run up to watching the film, I watched the trailer a couple more times and listened to ‘In the Meantime’ and as I did, I would think about the journey that I have been on with the ‘Guardians of the Galaxy’ films and characters. Who I have seen their cinematic entries with and how the music from them has then filtered into other memories. With ‘Star Wars’, I always know how much it means to me (the world) and that is ever present but with Guardians, before that third and final film I realised just how much their adventures have meant to me over the years and I started to get nervous about this third and final entry. I didn’t want any of the gang to go and for the story to have the ending that they all deserved. Really, I think that it did although that third final was rather emotional, perhaps none more so than when ‘In the Meantime’ started to play in the film and all of those feelings and thoughts that I had been having before came flooding in. 

The penultimate choice for this last month is, ‘Hateno Village’ by Super Piano 64. 

In the run up to ‘Tears of the Kingdom’ being released, I have been playing ‘Breath of the Wild’ and have fallen for its soundtrack very much. Nintendo being Nintendo means that the soundtrack is not readily available anywhere at least in an official capacity. As such, I have turned to artists’ interpretations of it and I have been all the better for it. Super Piano 64 has turned the score into a gentle, piano based album that is a beautiful take on the seminal work from Nintendo. Dare I say, at points it eclipses its source material. I have been listening to Super Piano 64′s work a great deal as I read and get ready for bed and everytime I hear ‘Hateno Village’ which is the first track on the ‘Breath of the Wild’ inspired album, I know it is time to relax, to breathe and to be calm. As I said last week, I think I know who will be my artist of the year however, I also think I know who will be second both in my heart and on Spotify. Although saying that, due to the amount that I’m listening to Super Piano 64 I wouldn’t be surprised if Spotify tells me otherwise and really, I would be a okay with that. 

And, here we are, the key song for the month of May is ‘Say Something’ by Twice. 

Look, I’ll be honest, every song for May could have been from Twice. That perhaps would have been the truest reflection of the last month. I didn’t do that as I wanted to share a few different pieces and to write about different subject matters but let the record show that May could have been completely about Twice. And who knows, maybe June will be, perhaps July and August and do we see where this is going something. I never cease to be amazed by the group as I work my way sporadically through their discography and ‘Say Something’ was the biggest revelation of all. It feels like it should be being played throughout ‘Cowboy Bebop’ and I mean, do I need to say anything else. How I could possibly pick my favourite Twice song, I don’t know, but certainly for the moment if I could only pick one it would be ‘Say Something’. It more than deserves to be the key song for May and I am curious to see where Spotify puts it in my wrap up of key songs. Its already on my top twelve songs for the year with its place here and really, its only going to keep climbing up the ranks as Twice do. Is it Twice year, I think it might be. Hell, it already is. 

So there we have it, the five key songs for May and ‘Say Something’ making its way on to that end of year playlist. The funny thing about these key songs of the month pieces is that often on the day that I write them I do happen to stumble across some other special songs which I then hope have the staying power to stick around to the end of the next month. This morning, I potentially have found three of the next five key songs so we’ll see if they do end up sticking around. But thats later down the line, for now, its time to enjoy these last few days of May before moving into the summer and seeing what music it brings with it. 

-Jake, a man hoping for a surprise winner at Monaco, 28/05/2023

[stormy333]

Texas Charm

So keeping with the theme of my love life (face palming right now). We’re going to talk about the “Texas charmer” who stole my heart for two years and never knew until it came up again pretty recently and well now sadly our roles have reversed. I feel for him. I honestly do.

Some context, we met sometime during 2016. I believe it was late June early July, maybe possibly August? Here’s the thing in 2012-2016 I had some unexplained health issues going on but we were seeing doctors and specialists A LOT and around those three months (June-August) we had gotten some answers. My mom had been given some support groups and had been talking to this one girls mom and they kinda set us up and I met Texas through the girl. They both had illnesses and we understood each other in ways healthy kids our age can’t really understand.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Texas was really REALLY into let’s call the girl North. So Texas and North had actually just met that day as well and we were all in a Skype voice call talking and getting to know each other. North was the oldest of the group and Texas the middle and myself the youngest. The more and more we got to know each other the more I became sort of an outcast in the group and about a month in they were now a couple and unfortunately my feelings had grown, because even though in the group I had become an outcast Texas and myself had bonded as friends as he and I had a little more in common. We were both the youngest child of our siblings and we kinda just related better to each other. It was hard to describe but I was just drawn to him.

About two or three months after they started dating he came to me for advice and I did the best I could do. I told him the honest to god truth about how I felt. I’m not talking about my feelings for him as during this time I was still working on deciphering what those feelings were, but the feelings of the situation. It hurt his feelings and we stopped talking for a bit, except for on holidays. During that time of us not talking I was very depressed and constantly thinking about him trying to figure out what those uncontrolled raging feelings were. That bit lasted about 2-3 months, we did this A LOT. Anyways, Texas messaged me and told me he was thinking of breaking up with North. This was around February of 2017. He and North had gotten into a fight and he came to me, again asking advice and he again wasn’t thrilled with what I had said but was happy that I had promised to stay and support him no matter his decision.

Okay so fast forward a month and we hadn’t talked since that night. Except the word document I sent to him expressing how much I cared about him as a friend but I wanted more. I understood he wanted her. I would never come between them and if she made him happy I was happy for him but when she was hurting him it was hurting me as he was one my best friends and I cared very much for him. Texas messages me. This time I knew exactly what those burning passions and everything I felt for him was now but now I was trying to deny it because it hurt to much. Texas sent me my letter, and asks me if I still feel that way. He says he’s about to break-up with North. He wants a “back-up” girlfriend though. Texas wants me to be his back up… He wants me to be a rebound.

My best friend stopped me. I almost agreed. “You are more than a backup!” I tried to defend it “Maybe thats not what he meant”. But to be honest anyway you spin it when your “Texas Charmer” asks you to be his backup after everything , sending your feelings back to you only to tell you when you ask if he actually likes you like that, that no. No I think you’re a sweet girl and I like you as a friend and I think maybe we could work? That stabs you in your heart. I remember not talking to him for the rest of the night then I asked my older brother for advice. I never do that. I needed one more unbiased opinion. His response was the one that broke me down and made me truly start the process of getting over Texas.

We stayed friends and only talked rarely and gamed together then about the end of 2017 and the start of 2018 we were on another break and things were quiet. I was still working on getting over him. It really wasn’t an easy process until I actually said what I felt. It was actually sometime in the summer of 2018 when I finally said it. We were swimming (myself and my best friend) and all of a sudden I stopped after my flip and looked at my sister and said “I love him. I don’t know how or why but I love him.” She asked who and I said Texas Charmer.

Fast forward to March 19, 2019. Texas out of the blue texted me. Part of me moving on had involved me deleting his number, deleting all of my socials from my phone that I was friends with him on. Not the accounts just the apps. I remembered his number though and instantly replied with “Texas?” and he said yeah and my dumb self fell back in the hole after a panic attack. Luckily I was sorta “with” someone at the time anyways so it was just old friends catching up, the slate wiped clean. We start talking a bit again and go back to our old ways of only going 2-3 months without talking.

Fast forward another few months, Texas again messages me randomly this time it was late at night and I was heartbroken dealing with something else, immediately I get defensive because he sends me the messages I sent him a while back. But then he sends “You were right”. With those words the sobs that were already happening got worse but because I appreciated it. I appreciated him. Always had. Always have. But never did I feel appreciated by him until that moment and that started to mend the us.

Fast forward to November 2019. Um to put it lightly the guy I was sorta with in March kinda started a domino effect that wasn’t good. But that is another story. You have to know that because in November I had recently gotten out of a relationship which again another story but it was a bit of a mess. In November Texas and I were talking again and he dropped the bomb. He had feelings for me now. We’ve known each other for 4 years now and are still best friends no doubt and no doubt you can feel the flames when we talk but it’s different. He told me and had to tell him that I just didn’t feel that way anymore. It hurt a lot. We still talk, I try to distance myself so that he won’t get hurt, but also I know loneliness sucks too. The thing is I do love Texas Charmer but not in the “I wanna marry you way”. It’s more platonic you were my first love and you taught me patience but you also taught me to respect myself and I am going to forever be grateful for it.

[deepshadowchaos]

5 year itch, Minus 4

I could have caused a scene and drawn a line in the sand. Write and send novel long text messages that would be full of hurt and heartbreak ranging from one emotion to the next. Like I have too many times before.

You’ve finally shaken the clarity into me. Suddenly all these different moments in time where you said one thing and I took it one way, I’m seeing them in a new light. I’m seeing myself in a new light. You told me a lot more than I realized or comprehended willfully or otherwise. I guess I was too hopeful and in my feelings about you. Too willing to give it all up to be with you. I just wanted to be with you so bad. But I think I really wanted to believe you were into me as much as I was you. I only ever saw glimpses though, mostly in the beginning and then usually when we’d fight. So what I’m actually feeling after all of this feels kinda redundant now. You’re still a liar. But I know I’m just as much to blame for not walking away every time it didn’t feel right anymore. Everything that started so suddenly and made me the most excited about us basically stopped in 2019 or never started. Since then we’ve just been fucking and fighting. It didn’t matter what you did or said or how many times you broke my trust, if you weren’t letting me go.. I took that as hope. Even though you’ve done nothing but drill the truth into my head since year one. I wish you hadn’t felt the need to break my heart over and over for five years just to see and feel everything I do now. Just to have our entire relationship thrown away. I guess that’s what I get though. I don’t blame you for not being into me anymore. I hardly recognize myself these days. I honestly just wish that feeling of wanting you would go away but I’ve got my work cut out for me there. I really did love you in ways that I probably can’t get away from. You’ll always be etched under my skin somewhere. That’s why this hurts so bad. That’s why I’ve been sick to my stomach for so many days. And everything about living makes me nauseous and it’s hard to breathe, especially at night. It’s pathetic really. Having to comprehend it all and see it for what it really is. Feeling like I’ll never stop missing you but also wondering if I ever knew you. It’s wild. The scenarios..

For a while it felt like a set up. Like you were finally about to tell me I was being punk’d and you’d laugh while I cried. But considering how taken off guard you were and revealed so many of your tells in the scramble of paranoia followed by how you’ve baited and lied and let me live in all of these feelings and thoughts, literally telling you I had to keep a certain composure not to self harm.. and you still couldn’t just come clean.

I’m supposed to believe you care about me? I’m one of your best fiends? But it happens every time, I’m often baffled at the end wondering how I got so attached to someone that could lie and betray me so easily. You hold the record now though.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

**Cultivating Love**37**

Sitting on the floor of the cell he shared with the others, Keith had his face to his knees. One by one they’d been taken and questioned thoroughly. His mother hadn’t been returned to him, but once the council felt they’d retrieved accurate and honest information over their time in the demon realm, they’d been reunited in the same cell. The council had moved Lance too, so Keith didn’t know where he was or what his condition was. He’d faced a similar experience as the demonic energy was forcibly drawn from his body before it’d been banished by the council. As far as Keith was concerned, the lot of them were past their prime and ignorant fools.

Feeling a tingling in his left ear, Keith raised his head to see Shiro plucking off a strand of corruption, before crushing it in his hand. He didn’t know why, but for a moment he’d honestly thought Lance was right there with him, instead of Shiro

“I…”

Going to apologise, Keith was instead pulled into Shiro’s arms. After all that had happened, his body melted against Shiro’s

“He is back and he is home. The elders will want to question him, but first they need to treat the corruption. Have hope”

That was all well and good, but Lance had been scared. He’d seen the fear in his eyes as he tried to get through the barrier like the rest of them. Keith couldn’t get it out of his mind. All he wanted was Lance to be there. Sniffling, he was hugged tighter by Shiro. The council non to fond of his mate, or Allura, given they’d broken in and used their chambers. Keith mumbled shakily

“I want to have hope, y-yet you haven’t seen what he’s been through. If I’m not there to calm him he loses control because of the demonic energy. I need to be there with him”

“The council still needs him. Lance won’t be executed so easily. He spent two years in the demon realm and his information will be of much interest to the council, meaning it is in their best interests to attempt every means of healing him that they can. You’ve yet to explain it all to me as it is”

“I can’t. Not without Lance. I told him he would talk to you together. Besides, Zarkon may have supporters within the council. I can’t believe you two caused so much chaos and didn’t stick to the original plan. If we’d come through at the Altean palace then this wouldn’t have happened”

Shiro sighed at the bite in Keith’s accusation. Keith didn’t want to be mad at Shiro, or rather, he didn’t want to be mad at Shiro until Lance was there and all three of them were mad at each other. None of them had really brought themselves to discussing it all

“The barrier was the only thing keeping Lance from losing control. He took on so much demonic energy that I could not see his divinity any longer. The palace may have been destroyed by accident”

“It’s better to destroy a palace than to allow Lance to die. I can’t feel him”

“Nor can I, but I trust in him. Stay strong for his sake. It should not be much longer”

*

Bringing them robes, Shiro and Allura were called forth by the council elders. Shiro as he hadn’t come from the demon realm and Allura as she’d opened the door between the realms. Taken down into the heart of the palace of the elders, they passed through four barriers before entering the final space. Chained in the middle of the room was Lance. His hands and feet bound as he growled and snarled.

To see Lance this way brought tears to Shiro’s eyes. His demonic energy had lessened, but Shiro could see the grip around the edges of his mate. Walking over to him, one of the guards shoved a plate of sliced peaches at him

“It needs to eat and won’t. If you can’t manage to make it eat, it won’t survive. We can’t get close enough. We’ve removed the cursed relic from it and it still shows distemper”

This was elder’s punishment. They’d opened the hole between realms and Lance was paying the price. With time to think, Shiro couldn’t understand how the woman Keith called his mother, Krolia, or the demon wolf, had passed through the barrier when Lance could not. And what was this talk of a cursed relic? With a nod, Shiro took the plate. The peaches were divine, their flesh tingling with wisps of golden light

“Allura, please stay back. I will approach Lance. No matter what happens, do not interfere”

Growing closer to Lance, Shiro noticed that part of Lance’s arm had been removed. The stump covered, then the golden cuff of magic binding him fitted over the bandage. Most probably because it wasn’t the best place to bind him, but because it kept the bandage over the wound. Cocking his head at him, Lance started sniffing loudly. Shiro seating himself in front of Lance, placing the plate down, then opening his arms to show he was no threat

“Lance, I have missed you. I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry we are here in this situation. I need you to eat for me, can you do that?”

Lance tried to pull back on his chains with a yip. His gaze darting around the space. He had to be terrified. Picking up the first peach slice, Shiro held it out to him. Lance grunting at him as he shut his mouth firmly

“Please, Lance. Please let me help. You need to eat, my love. How can I apologise to you if you cannot speak or understand? I never ever wanted this to happen to you. I’ve failed you as your mate and as your friend and I broke your heart. You’re breaking mine now. I need you to eat”

Lance huffed. Shiro trying not to sniffle through his tears. Curses were nasty tricky things yet he’d seen Lance inside of it. He knew he was right there and the divine peaches would give him the energy to fight. Taking the peach slide, Shiro chewed it lightly, before leaning in to push his lips to Lance’s. Pidge had made a joke about Keith and Lance, and Keith had snapped back that physical touch worked best to keep the beast inside him under control.

Slowly Lance stopped struggling, when he finally loosened his lips, Shiro pushed the peach slide forward, tricking Lance who came off spluttering from the kiss. His eyes were full of accusation, and the fact that he coughed up little made Shiro confident that he’d swallowed at least some of the peach. Some was better than none.

Taking up another slice, Shiro held it in his mouth as he took Lance by the face, leaning in and letting some of his energy flow into Lance. He had to be careful though, too much energy on top of the peach would lead to Lance reacting badly. He wanted Lance to feel him there and know it was him who sat before him. Very hesitantly, Lance took the peach offered, Shiro pushing his lips to Lance’s, preventing him from pushing it back out. Swallowing the second piece, Lance started fighting against his chains as his energy fluctuated. The two pieces too close together and causing a negative effect.

Drawing back, Shiro dropped his hand to Lance’s leg to keep the connection between them

“That’s it, my love. That’s it. I know you’re in there and we will get through this together. I’m here now. I’m here. You need your strength, but I am here and I won’t let you go”

The same guard that had pushed the plate on him called out

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to make it eat”

Lance jerked in his chains, Shiro hushing him as he kept his hand on him. He needed Lance’s attention. Not simply to feed him, but because he was finally face to face with Lance and part of him craved that. Other than his arm and chi, Lance looked every bit as beautiful as he remembered him to be. Keeping his voice low, not to scare Lance, Shiro replied

“I am. He needs to eat slowly or he’ll reject it. I suggest you all make yourselves comfortable as this will take many hours. If he loses control we could all lose our lives”

He doubted the chains holding Lance would allow him any range of movement to make that threat come true, yet he also wanted the guards to back off. Lance was scared and he didn’t need to be punished further.

What should have taken all of 10 minutes to eat one peach took the entirety of three hours. Lance would grow cautious, pull away, fight against him, then only take the peach slice when fed. Shiro didn’t know if the elders expected it of him, but the few tendrils of corruption that showed he pulled off and crushed. Keeping a calm state was exhausting and his mind kept coming back to the mention of a cursed relic. That and his heart ached for his mate, without both hands Lance would not be the swordsman he was. When Lance finally fell limp against his chains, Shiro moved to hold him against him. He knew now his job was over that they’d take him from Lance, but by heavens did he want to hold him. Kissing Lance’s hair, he had enough time to promise his return before he was ordered away from Lance.

*

Moved from their cells, the rooms they’d been given might as well have been cells all over again. They had more space, yet the guards remained the same. With Shiro and Allura gone for hours, Keith was trying his hardest to not get up and pace. His mother and his wolf had been returned to their group, with the demon wolf making straight for his lap. Keith didn’t know why it was so fixated on him, he wasn’t worth the attention after what had happened with Lance. Still, the pup licked at his fingers and rolled onto his back to show off his fat little belly.

So preoccupied with his own self pity, he entirely forgot the poor beast when the door to their rooms opened, Allura supporting an exhausted looking Shiro. Getting to his feet, Keith found himself rushing to Shiro, the wolf shaking itself off before bounding after him, only for Shiro to ignore Keith and pick the pup up. Keith wanted answers. He wanted to know why Shiro seemed to have developed a low grade fever and where he’d been… and why his mate wouldn’t meet his eyes

“Shiro?”

Sighing heavily, Shiro forced a smile to his lips

“I’m okay. They were having problems with Lance but I’ve found a solution. Let me sit, then we will talk”

Despite wanting to kick everyone out and demand to know of Lance’s condition, Keith knew he could not. Instead he hovered by Shiro’s side as Shiro walked over to take the spot he’d vacated, and everyone else gathered around other than Allura. Shiro may have needed a moment to gather his thoughts, yet… Keith didn’t have an ounce of patience left

“Where’s Lance? Why isn’t he here with us? Were you with him? Is that why you look so ill?”

With the wolf pup now settled in Shiro’s lap, Shiro left his right hand on the pup and ruffled Keith’s hair with the left

“I was. They’re feeding him divine peaches to expel the remaining demonic energy. Before we talk about that, can you tell me about the cursed relic Lance brought back with him?”

Keith blinked as he drew his brow. There’d been no relic. He would have known if there was

“I don’t know what you are speaking of. Lance was fine before we came through”

Shiro’s shoulders dropped as he sighed wearily

“I was hoping you would have some idea. At the moment Lance is fighting off the demonic energy within him. Exposure to this realm seems to have caused it to tighten its grip. I fed him. They couldn’t get him calm enough to feed himself. When you were in the demon realm, did something perhaps happen to his right arm?”

“Krolia cut it off… but they reattached it…”

Shiro paled at the news, Keith getting a sinking feeling about it

“… why? What have they done to him?! If they’ve hurt him…”

“Keith, calm down. I do not have the energy right now to deal with things if you start becoming corrupt again. Why was it necessary to remove part of Lance’s arm?”

Keith looked to Krolia, knowing she could explain it better than him. Krolia nodded, accepting that she needed him to explain

“Zarkon had Lance wear a device on his arm to both monitor him and limit his energy. It was necessary to remove his arm to remove the device. Keith attempted to burn it off, but we did not have the time to wait. If they have removed his arm, they must feel that part of his body still held corruption. Keith, you were the closest with Lance. Did you perhaps notice anything on his arm?”

Thinking was not exactly Keith’s strong point when he was busy worrying. He needed several long moments to think of the times Lance laid in his arms

“There was some discolouration. Where the bracelet once was. The skin scarred… I thought it was because I heated the metal…”

Krolia picked up his line of thought

“It is possible that some of the metal fused beneath the raised skin. It would only need to be a small amount…”

So he’d done this…

“Is that why Lance was unable to exit the barrier?”

“Given what he was exposed to, and Zarkon’s measures, I am inclined to agree with your line of thought. We destroyed our own limiters before entering the portal, yet I did not think of his. I am sorry”

It wasn’t her fault. Lance didn’t tell them, perhaps unaware due to feeling more demon than divine. Letting his hand slide from Keith’s hair, Shiro hugged him

“His mind is scattered at the moment as his body fights whatever it is inside of him. I saw the dark aura around him…”

“Zarkon makes his fighters ingest a remedy for healing made from the bone and blood of his fighters. If part of his limiter remained unseen it could have been harbouring the lingering spirit of those passed. As bad as it for Lance, we may have given the council concrete proof of Zarkon’s involvement. He cannot deny his touch upon it. I’m assuming you fed him the peaches while crushing any fleeing corruption?”

Shiro let out a light laugh at Krolia’s words. Keith had no idea as to how Shiro could laugh

“You barely know me, yet you know exactly what I did. It took all this time to have him finish one peach. He did not trust me, so kept my energy flowing into him as he ate. I suspect he’ll sleep until tomorrow as his body processes it”

“Both Keith and Lance spoke of you to me. And Pidge and Hunk. It is a complicated situation you find yourself in. I suggest you rest yourself while we have the chance. We cannot leave these rooms, though the Emperor has expressed an interest in speaking with us. Your Sanda and your Iverson have been most abrupt”

Keith had some choice words for Iverson. Apparently he had transferred across to the palace complex while they’d been in the demon realm. Iverson had also had some choice words for the lot of them, though he had said that he was glad they had returned and that perhaps now Shiro would take his duties seriously again

“That doesn’t matter now. Did Lance say anything? Anything at all? Did… did he ask for me?”

Shiro kissed Keith’s hair

“No. I’m sorry. They’ve kept him chained and feeding him peaches to heal what they can. The rest will be up to Lance. His energy may be mixed up, yet he is still in there. I know he is still in there”

Waiting was awful. The idea of them cutting off Lance’s arm.. that was just as awful. He and Shiro were blaming themselves, Krolia had apologised, and Lance had started it all by leaving. He knew all this and none it helped

“Okay… you should probably get some rest. Let Hunk check you over to make sure you’re alright”

“Keith, I am fine, my love”

“So was Lance and this still happened. Are you going to see Lance again?”

“Not today, unless I’m called for. I will try get you permission to see him too”

“Okay”

So easily Shiro called him “my love” and so easily did Keith accept it. But… he wanted to yell at Shiro still over everything and Lance’s soul. It felt unfair he couldn’t be there and Shiro could. Especially when it felt as if this false peace wouldn’t last and he’d realised this was how Lance must have felt with Zarkon lurking in the shadows. The only people he could trust to look after Lance was their group. If he ever saw Zarkon again, he was going to punch him squarely in the jaw for Lance, then incinerate him for himself.