#I prefer quietly working on big projects and only discussing them when I have something ready to release

[chocodile]

Some character-based face cards for the Cheat/Bullshit card minigame I programmed for Wishbone. It'll be playable in the next public beta, which I hope to put out at the end of first quarter 2024.

[fxntxsix]

The Agreement (Austin Butler x Producer!Reader)

Okiiii here we go - my first smut. This was an experience whew. Okay, a few things. Firstly, I’ve chosen to fuck around with the age timeline here a bit. So, although I don’t mention it directly Austin is 30 here. Also, this has the potential to have a few more parts, not many, but a few so let me know if you’d be interested. Ans yes, yes I do suck at making GIFs but it is what it is. I need to extend my gratitude to @eu-whoria for all the smut writing tips thank yewwwww. Also, special mention to @presleysnotes my new bestie, here’s your homework reward.

Feedback is appreciated but please be gentle lmao. Other than that let me know if I’ve made any grammatical errors or any of that. And my requests are always open!

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT NUT!!! swearing, smoking, drinking, sub!Austin x dom!reader, morally grey subject matter, tiny bit of blood, handcuffs, blindfold, mentions of Brad Pitt (I think that’s it please let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count: 3806

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Austin knew it was wrong, but he had been desperate. After dedicating basically his entire life to acting and still not catching a big break, he felt helpless. So, he did whatever it took to propel his career to stardom. He knew he was talented, hardworking and attractive, he just needed the right connection. It just so happened that you were that right connection.

Three years after your initial meeting, he was finally posing on the Cannes red carpet for the ‘Elvis’ premier. With you next to him.

Three Years Ago

It had been a long and gruelling day for you and it was only 5:30 in the evening. As a producer at Warner Bros., you spent the majority of your days in meetings with old men (they preferred the term ‘investors’ apparently) who thought you were nothing more than a pretty face although you had proven them wrong repeatedly by putting out blockbuster after blockbuster. You were a businesswoman, one at the top of her fucking game.

Today, you had spent the last two hours in a conference room trying to work through details for an upcoming Elvis biopic. The project had been approved by the higher ups and you were given free reign for the creative as well as business decisions for the film. But the ‘investors’ were under a misguided impression that they had a say in any of these decisions. The only thing they had agreed on so far was the involvement of Baz Luhrmann as the director. Other than that, all your ideas for the script, cast, crew, promo structure etc. were met with push back and bogus objections.

Your patience and sanity were hanging by a thread so naturally you lost it when your secretary decided to barge in and let you know that you were getting late for a social appointment, “Goddamn it, Jack! How many times have I told you not to disturb me during a meeting unless someone was fucking dying. Get out of my sight before I throw something at you.”

Okay so you had a temper, but you had earned it. You had worked your ass of since you were 19 to reach where you were. It paid off too, you were Warner Bros.’ youngest producer at only 26. Anyway, as Jack scurried out of the room you decided to remind the ‘investors’ who was really in charge.

You put your hands on the conference table to lean forward and say very quietly, “Now, I want to make sure everyone understands this - I don’t give a rat’s ass about who you are or how you reached this table but I know my job better than anyone else in this industry. I make the decisions here, not you. Everything I tell you from here on out about this project is just me being courteous and it is most definitely not up for two hour long discussions. Is that fucking clear?”

You stared them down as some of them slowly gulped and others nodded their heads. You straightened up and walked out of the room, oozing with confidence. When you got closer to your office, you caught site of Jack sniffling and dabbing his eyes. You rolled your eyes at the unprofessional display of sensitivity. I mean you weren’t even that mean.

“Make sure the car is ready to leave in 20 and for God’s sake clean yourself up.”

Being one of the most influential people at Warner Bros. came with a few advantages. Such as having a stretch limo at your disposal, an en suite bathroom in your office and also a personal stylist made available to you for social events like the one you were currently headed to. Your stylist, Marie, was more like you in the sense that she was one of the few capable people around who knew their job and stuck to it. This helped create a bond between the two of you, despite an age gap of almost a decade. Tonight, she chose to put you in a dress that made you feel so confident that you remember thinking to yourself, “Woah, I’d fuck me.”

Today’s social event was less of an ‘event’ and more of a party being hosted by your dear friend, Brad Pitt. He was currently in the pre-production phase of the new Quentin Tarantino film, a role he got after he asked you to call up Quentin and make a recommendation. It was just simple business.

When you finally reached his house and rung the bell, the door swung open to a slightly wobbly Brad, “Y/NNNNN! So glad you could make it. Come on in, I’ve got some people who’ve been dying to meet ya.” So, he took you around the room and introduced you as ‘the big shot producer.’ You watched people’s expression change from disinterest to admiration. 

It was common for people to change their behaviour around you in the hopes that you would take notice and cast them in one of your films. Unfortunately, it didn’t work that way but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the special treatment. It made you feel powerful and in control.

“You’re an awful host, Pitt. I’ve been here for like 20 minutes now and you haven’t even offered me a drink, yet. I am seriously not in the mood for anymore work talk for the rest of the night. It’s been a long day as it is.”

“Oh shit, sorry, my bad. But you just gotta meet one last person then you can get as wasted as you want. Y/N this kid’s work ethic is fucking insane and he has so much raw talent. He got me kinda jealous for a minute but I couldn’t even bring myself to hate him. He’s gonna be working on the new Quentin Tarantino.” His eyes scanned the room for only a second before raising his hand and yelling, “Yo Butler! Austin! Come here a second.”

You watched the head of jet black hair perk up and turn around. The closer he came, the more you realised that you had never seen a man as beautiful as him. He belonged in a fucking art museum. But, you had a reputation to maintain, so instead of blushing when you made eye contact with his electric blue eyes, you stood up with you head high. You made sure your dress was fanned out to show the thigh high slit and arched your back just a little to do your boobs a favour.

“Mr. Pitt,” he gave Brad a firm handshake, “Fantastic party, sir.”

In that moment, you were sure you had experienced your first ever eargasm.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya to just call me ‘Brad.’ Anyway, it’s alright you’ll get it right someday.” You watched the brunette’s eyes sparkle like a fucking Disney prince when he smiled at Brad’s comment. “I’d like to introduce you to Y/N L/N. She’s the producer at Warner and I believe she’s had a long day so get her a drink, kid.”

You had extended your hand for a handshake but he tenderly brought your hand up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles - all gentlemen like, “Austin Butler. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” Something absolutely feral stirred in you at the title he had used.

You were quick to pull your hand back and say, “Well, aren’t you sweet?”

His cheeks flushed with the most enchanting blush you had ever seen. Your mind immediately thought about how that pretty pink colour would probably extend to his chest as you ride hi-

“What would you like to drink?” You could have imagined it, but you thought you saw his eyes flick down to your wine coloured lips for a brief moment. Once you told him what you wanted, he walked away from you to get it and you found yourself ogling his ass in those dress pants. As he walked back to you with the drinks in his hand, you could feel his eyes drinking you in from head to toe and this time you knew you hadn’t imagined it.

After a few minutes of small talk and drinking you could finally feel the stress of the day catching up with you and the knots in you shoulder screamed for a cigarette. “I’m just going to step out for a quick smoke,” you announced.

“Let me get you another drink and I’ll join you...i-if that’s okay I mean?” he fumbled over his words. You nodded your head to indicate that it was, in fact, okay.

You slipped out into the empty balcony and opened your clutch finding your cigarette pack. You took one out and put it between your lips and started looking for a lighter but you couldn’t see it. For fuck’s sake, you were going to strangle Jack, he was responsible for prepping your clutch.

Just when you were about to give up, you heard a click and looked up. Austin stood in front of you with his lighter flared up and said in his velvety low voice, “Allow me, ma’am.” So you took a step closer to him, perhaps closer than you need to be, and leaned in cupping the flame with your hand as you stayed still for a second to let the tip of the cigarette catch the flame. Then, you took a long drag and tilted your head up so that you would exhale the smoke right at him.

You heard his breath get caught in his chest. You smirked to yourself and it was only when you walked away that he exhaled. You leaned over the railing with your drink and cigarette in hand as Austin lit up his own cigarette. He walked over and leaned next to you. Close enough that both of your upper arms were touching. 

You took another drag and asked, “So, tell me Austin, why is it that I have never heard of you before?”

He was taken aback for a second, then chuckled and explained his entire career trajectory - right from his humble Disney beginnings to the latest Tarantino role. You noticed that the calibur of his roles had only increased with time but he hadn’t quite gotten to the big break. Maybe it was about time for that, you thought to yourself.

“I just feel like I’m stuck you know? Of course, I’m very grateful for everything I’ve been able to do so far but it just hasn’t been what I want it to be. It seems like such a waste but somewhere, deep down, I know that given the opportunity, I can be great.” Although he wasn’t looking at you, there was a dangerous gleam evident in his eyes. Almost like a hunger. But, it only lasted a second before he cracked a charming smile and changed the topic, returning to his formal tone, “Anyway, forget about it. I know you don’t want to talk about work tonight, ma’am.”

“You know, I think you’re older than me. You shouldn’t be calling me that,”

“Really? How old are you?”

“26″

He let out a low whistle, “Wow, you must be one of the youngest producers around.”

“The youngest ever at Warner.”

“And that’s why I will continue to call you that. It ain’t about the age. You’ve earned the respect...ma’am.”

He was still looking at the view rather than at you and something in you fluttered at his acknowledgement of your hard work. You started looking at his side profile attentively. The strong jaw, the high cheek bones, the pouty pink lips. He was star material, in fact, you were surprised that he hadn’t been picked up yet.

Suddenly, in your mildly inebriated state a thought crossed your mind and before you could stop yourself you were dragging your perfectly manicured finger across his cheek to turn his head to you, “You’re right, Austin. You can be great. I’m going to make you greater than you could ever dream. But only if you and I could come to an agreement.”

“Wh-what kind of agreement, ma’am?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it so you decided to just show him instead. You leaned up and give him a chaste lingering kiss. You felt him pull back so he could look into your eyes. Confident as ever, you held his gaze and could see the gears turning behind those dazzling blues that shone despite the low lighting of the party.

A beat later, he had moved so that your body was trapped between his and the balcony railing. One of his, rather large, hands was on your hip and the other was on your cheek pulling your lips to his.

This kiss was different. It was desperate and hungry, almost like he was trying to show you his ambition through the kiss. But it wasn’t messy, it was slow, deep, calculated. The hand on your hip had travelled down to give your ass a harsh squeeze. A little yelp parted your lips and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in and massage yours with it.

It looked like you were losing a dominance battle and you felt the need to take back some control. You moved one of your hands to give his hair a sharp tug. He let out a sinful moan against your lips and you felt him roll his hips against you. You pulled again, this time to break the kiss. You were both panting like dogs and you said, “We’re leaving.” He nodded enthusiastically.

Soon enough you guys were in the back of your stretch limo. You told the driver to take you home and put the partition between him and you up. Immediately, Austin’s hands were on you and they were everywhere. The long and deep kisses had turned into quick pecks on your lips, cheek, jaw and neck till he found the spot that made you dig your nails into his thigh. He sucked on that spot hard enough to make you mewl. You carded your hand through his hair and heard him suck in a breath.

“You like when I play with your hair, baby?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You made sure to keep that in mind for later at night. You dragged your hand from his thigh to the bulge in his pants. You just ran your fingertips over it and felt the car lurch to a stop. You were both out of the car in a flash. 

The elevator ride to your penthouse was spent making out like you were a bunch of horny teenagers. Once you were finally in your house, both of you kicked off your shoes and he looked like he was ready to attack you again. But before he could you put a hand on his chest.

“Woah boy, slow down there. We have all night. Take off your jacket and go sit on that couch. Oh, and don’t touch yourself till I’m back.”

He nodded and fast walked to the couch. Meanwhile, you sauntered over to your room and took off your dress, adjusting your lingerie underneath, silently thanking Marie for making you wear Victoria’s Secret tonight. 

You opened the bedside drawer and pulled out a few things to take with you to the living room.

You found him sitting in his all black glory, a wonderful contrast against your white couch, his legs spread, arms splayed against the back of the couch and his face was turned up to the ceiling with his eyes closed. He heard the clicking of your heels and opened his eyes.

He whispered, “Fuck,” and brought one of his hands up to tug his lower lip between his thumb and index finger. He took in the swell of your breasts and ass, feeling desperate to take the curves in his hands but, at the same time, he felt like he couldn’t move without your permission. He noticed a few things that you brought from the room kept on the coffee table.

“Did you touch yourself, baby?”

“No ma’am”

“Good boy”

Austin felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had always been the dominant one during sex with past partners. This time he felt completely at your mercy and he was loving every second of it.

You straddled his hips and kissed him, hard. Taking his bottom lip between your teeth and biting it, tugging at it so that when you let it go it made a ‘pop’ sound. You smiled to yourself when you saw the little bit of blood where you had bit his lip. You kissed him again, making sure to lick up the blood, and you felt him buck his hips up over and over again. He let out a couple of heavenly whines to let you know how bad he wanted you.

“Pleaaaase,” he whined.

“Please what baby?”

“Please need more ma’am,” bucking his hips again.

“Aw come on you can beg better than that.”

“Please please please. Need to be in you so bad, ma’am. Want you to own me, please ma’am.”

“Oh, I own you alright,” you ripped his shirt open and heard the clatter of buttons flying everywhere.

You were very slowly, almost negligibly, moving your hips in circles against him. You put your mouth next to his ear, licked the shell and said, “Now, you gotta tell me if at any point, any point at all, you want me to stop. Just the word and we’ll stop. Do you understand, baby boy?” He nodded again.

You sat back to look at his face, “No baby, I need to hear you say it.”

Your index finger ran from his bottom lip, down his chin and your nail lightly scratched his Adam’s apple. As soon as you did that, his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, indicating that he swallowed harshly, “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Such a good boy. Put your arms behind your back.”

You pick up the silver metal handcuffs you had brought from the room and cuffed his wrists together. Then you picked up the black satin scarf from the same place, carefully folding it and tying it around his eyes as a blindfold. You felt his breathing pick up. You stood up from his lap and took in the delectable sight before you. Only wearing his black dress pants, chest heaving up and down, blindfolded, handcuffed and waiting for you.

You get down on your knees, between his legs and keep your palms on his knees. You shift a little and nuzzle your nose against his straining cock. His hips shoot up, making you smile. You decided to let him catch a break and took his pants and boxers off, discarding them to the side. His hard dick sprung up against his stomach, precum already leaking from the red tip. You touched only the tip with your middle finger to pick up the liquid bead.

“Hnghhh aahh,” 

You laughed at his reaction and cooed, “My poor baby, so desperate for me.”

You put the finger in your mouth and hummed at the taste. This time you wrapped your hand around his length and jerked him off as hard as you could. At this point he was basically screaming for you. His body thrashing around uncontrollably. The loss of sight and touch heightened every other sensation for him. But you wanted him to come while he was inside you so you stopped your actions. Grabbing the last item from the coffee table, a condom that you tore open and slid on his cock.

You stood up again and took your panties off. Once again, you straddled him and asked, “Ready?”

“Yes ma’am please wanna cum so bad.”

You lifted your hips and started taking him in inch by inch. His pink lips hung open and you just couldn’t stop yourself from kissing those lips. You had to take a second to adjust because, at this angle and with his size, he was so deep that you thought you could feel him in your gut.

You started out with grinding against him. However, as your pace got faster, your hands came up to his hair again and tugged them hard. His teeth were bared in a way that kind of reminded you of a wolf and he was grunting every time your hips came down. Soon enough you couldn’t stop the moans from tumbling out of your mouth. 

“Please ma’am need to see you. Need to look at your pretty eyes to cum.”

Your hands went around his head and undid the blindfold. There they were, those blues that had turned a few shades darker because of the intense lust. He let out a high pitched moan as your pussy clenched around him. After a couple more minutes he had planted his feet firmly on the ground and began thrusting up into you as your hips came down. You had never felt pleasure like this.

It was your turn to let out a loud, “Aaaah God- fuck Austin so good. So fucking. Good. For me.” The last few words accentuated with rough thrusts.

“Fuck ma’am, I’m close so clo- fuck bout to bust. Ple-please let me come.”

You felt right on edge too and said, “Cum baby, cum for me. Only for me.”

His hips left the couch to thrust up into you for the last time as his back arched. His head fell against the back of the couch and you could see his abs twitch every few seconds as he released into the condom. The sounds that left him pushed you over, to your end. Your forehead came in contact with his muscled shoulder as both of you spent a couple of minutes just taking in as much oxygen as you could.

He broke the silence, “Wow”

You laughed and got off his lap, throwing away the condom and using the key to unlock the handcuffs. His wrists has turned an alarming red against his otherwise pale complexion so you gave each wrist a small peck.

“Does it hurt? Should I get some ice packs?”

“Oh no I’m alright.”

“And what about your lip? Are you okay? Was it too mu-”

He stood up and cupped your cheeks with his unfairly long fingers, “I’m alright I promise. It was mind blowing. Let’s just go to bed.” His eyes shifted down and he cockily added, “Your legs are shaking.”

“Shut up”

You led him to the bedroom and both of you got in the plush bed. He pulled you to him so your head was on his chest. You let out a yawn and said, “I’m taking you to the Warner offices tomorrow.”

Austin felt his heart drop but before he could even say anything you had drifted off to sleep.

So Part 2 anyone?

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@adoresbutlers @butler-on-beale-street @eu-whoria  @emmymaehereeeeee @vividstilinski @she-is-juniper @austinbutlerr @sassy-ahsoka-tano @mamaspresley @enchantinglyjade @stargiirl27 @neverasfarawayasitmayseemxo @dawnmay @butlerslut @unadulteratedkingdomzombie @honeypieknox @foreverdolly @dre6ming @presleysnotes @elli3m4yy @pennyroyalcreep @queen-multi-fandoms @butlerslut @austin-butler-library @xo-2high2cry @satninbeaulieu

[mydaroga]

Beatleology

I know it’s been discussed around these parts before, and I’ve posted screencaps of some of its ridiculous takes, but I’ve decided to scan the questions from my flatmate’s copy of Beatleology so I can tell you all whether you’re a John, Paul, George, or Ringo. 

Word of caution: this is kind of long. And the questions are dumb. And the author seems to have a dim view of John, Paul, and human beings. Other than that, though... 

ANYWAY send me your answers by whatever method (if you can get through all of this) and I’ll mark them up and tell you who you are. If you want to go anon or something, make sure you give yourself a little name or something so YOU know which ask is yours? And depending on how many people respond it may take me a bit so be patient, but this is obviously very important information to have for your future.

Part 1: Work

1. In my career, my feelings regarding success are: A) I feel I must succeed at any cost and am willing to do anything to achieve it. B) As long as the check doesn't bounce, I'm cool. C) To me, work is just one aspect of life. I would like to succeed but am not willing to sell my soul for it. D) I feel I deserve success and will be successful in any endeavor.

2. I see my boss as: A) Someone to work with and help me as long as he or she is not too domineering. B) Someone to look up to. I like my boss and strive to be in his or her position. C) Just another bloke. Bosses are a fact of life. D) A bourgeois capitalist pig who will be the first one against the wall when the revolution comes. They will keep me down unless they respect my autonomy.

3. In my relationships with my coworkers, I feel: A) They are important as a support for me and my work (as long as they do as say). B) They can help me polish an idea or project but can also drag down my work. C) They are just another bunch of blokes. I enjoy my coworkers if they are not overly serious or stressful. D) I like my coworkers as long as they don't try to dominate the workplace.

4. When picking a career, I look for: A) Independence and a laidback atmosphere. B) Stability in a company, financial gain, and a friendly environment. C) A dynamic work environment with lots of opportunity for advancement. D) A job that allows me a certain degree of freedom, autonomy, and the ability to express myself.

5. During my lunch hour, I: A) Am out at a restaurant having nachos and a beer. B) Am working on my personal projects like art, music, and writing. C) Am using the time to pick up my dry cleaning or working ahead. D) Am the center of the conversation in the lunchroom.

6. I arrive at work: A) Early, but leave early. B) Early and stay late. C) Late, but stay late. D) Whenever I arrive is on time.

7. Things have stolen from work include: A) My coworker's client list but not physical items. B) Laptops, light bulbs, copper wire from the wall, anything that's not bolted down. C) Drinks on the expense report and paper clips. D) Only big items know I can get away with.

8. My obligation toward work is: A) I need my job for money, but my real obligation is to myself. B) I want to have the reputation as doing my best, but deep down I don't care. C) I feel obligated to do my best and succeed. D) I do my work so I deserve to get paid.

9. When I quit a job, I: A) Leave well liked and on good terms. B) Send around a goodbye e-mail thanking everyone. C) Burn my bridges and tell everyone to piss off. D) Quietly walk away, but fantasize about burning the place down.

10. When I go on vacation: A) I check in occasionally, but prefer not to. B) I never check my messages or e-mail. Whatever it is can wait. C) I try not to check in but can't help thinking about work. D) I am in constant contact and check messages daily.

Part II: Relationships

1. In a lover or a spouse, I look for: A) Someone who supports and adores me. B) A true partner, some one who challenges me. C) A loving, easygoing partner. D) Fun, love, and sex.

2. Dating is: A) A fun way to meet people and possibly get some action. B) A pain in the neck. C) An opportunity for me to be charming and adored. D) A huge waste of time. We should cut right to a stiflingly codependent relationship.

3. In a long-term relationship, I tend to be: A) Codependent at the expense of my other relationships. B) Stable and avoid relationship drama. C) Committed but not overly analytical about my feelings. D) The dominant partner and the center of attention. We do what I want.

4. After a breakup, I: A) Am also hurt and have a period of quiet reflection. B) Am hurt (especially my ego) and wonder why someone would give me up. C) Am emotionally crushed and often drunkenly call my ex. D) Realize it wasn't meant to be and recover quickly.

5. During sex, I am: A) A top. B) A bottom. C) A top, bottom, or side. D) Tied to the bedpost.

6. On a first date: A) I find myself in Vegas getting married by Elvis. I quickly think he or she is "the one." B) I read him or her some of my poetry, and am very open about my feelings. I, too, quickly think he or she is "the one." C) I just want to go out and have a good time. D) I try to be myself but have trouble showing my true personality.

7. When propose marriage: A) It's going to be a grand gesture such as on the Dodgers' score board or while we're sky-diving. B) It will be because we can't stand it anymore and must be together. My proposal will be hopelessly romantic and memorable. C) It's either because I knocked her up or am on hard drugs. D) I have thought about the ramifications and realize truly want it.

8. I view sex as: A) A way to express myself and the spiritual union with my partner. B) An intimate expression of love and a way to get me rocks off. C) A way to achieve love and affirmation. D) A fun way to relax and feel good.

9. My thoughts on infidelity are: A) I'm not willing to cheat because I don't want to be viewed as that sort of person. B) It's easier to be monogamous than cheat on my lover. I like to keep my love life simple. C) If believe in the relation ship, I will be monogamous. But if I don't truly care, I'm willing to cheat. D) If it feels good, do it.

10. Complete this sentence: I hate ______ A) War, strong women. B) Ex-girlfriends, new girlfriends. C) Egomaniacal jerks, deep breathing. D) Myself, myself.

Part III: Family

1. When it comes to raising children: A) I can be a terrible or amazing parent. If the circumstances are right, I will be a dedicated and loving mom or dad but if I'm forced into parenthood, I can also be distant. B) Kids are a fun, important aspect of my life. They should not, however, interfere too much with my marriage and other pursuits. C) I will love my kids, if I choose to have them. am likely to see my children as friends when they grow a little older. D) I just love kids and am a dedicated mother or father.

2. Family is important to me because: A) They bring me joy. B) They are friends and people who share my interests and beliefs. C) I love my family deeply and they support me. D) They are the only people I can trust and count on in life.

3. Which describes your role in your family?. A) I am just one member of the family. We share decisions and responsibilities. B) I'm head of the family. I often plan activities, vacations, and family rules. C) I'm just here for the beer. I'm happy to let others worry about the Thanksgiving centerpiece or yell at the kids for not washing their hands. D) Deep down I feel I'm the head of the family, but if people want to take initiative, that's fine by me.

4. When I was growing up, my mother and father were: A) Supportive and loving. I got very lucky. B) Worried about me. We didn't always get along. C) Very giving. They gave me a great deal of freedom. D) They weren't perfect, but my parents did the best they could and I don't blame them for much.

5. An ideal family vacation is: A) A romantic get-away with just me and the old lady (or man). B) Lying on a beach in the Caribbean. C) Traveling all together, possibly in an RV or boat. D) Seeing nature or culturally significant places.

Part IV: Morality

1. Do I owe a debt to society? A) Anyone as talented and brilliant as me owes a debt to society. B) I'm lucky to be literate, fed, and employed. Life could be a lot worse. C) I don't owe the world anything. Life is inherently unfair. D) I didn't know I borrowed any money. Honestly, I don't give it a great deal of thought. In the words of that famous philosopher, "I am what am."

2. Is stealing ever justifiable? A) Stealing is wrong. It hurts others. B) I wouldn't steal; I'd just ask for it if I could. Stealing is a last resort. C) Stealing isn't 100 percent wrong. If you have to steal formula for a hungry baby, that doesn't make you a bad person. D) Sure. I nick things all the time. Wal-Mart isn't going to miss a few Xbox games.

3. You've arrested a suspected terrorist. He may be aware of when and where a terrorist attack will occur but will only reveal the truth through painful torture. Would you torture him? A) If he's only a suspected terrorist, he might also just be an innocent person. How can be sure he really knows something about an imminent attack? I'm just not 100 percent sure. B) Yes. First of all, he's a terrorist and deserves to be tortured. Second, by torturing him, will get information that can save lives. Not doing so would mean the death of others. C) Yes. It might secretly be enjoyable. D) Couldn't somebody else, like Jack Bauer, do this?

4. Is there such a thing as right and wrong? A) Who knows? These ethical questions are annoyingly pretentious. B) I'm not sure. I believe in right and wrong, but I'm not sure they are absolutes. C) They are subjective. Time, culture, and experience play an important role in determining these ideas. D) There is an objective right and wrong. For instance, it is wrong to commit murder or rape.

5. Is it ever acceptable to lie? A) Since I often speak off the cuff, I rarely tell little white lies. B) I try not to lie, but sometimes it's unavoidable. Little white lies are okay. C) I lie all the time. Lying can save other people's feelings and my butt. D) Omission isn't technically lying. I'll lie to save people's feelings and cover my ass at work.

Part V: Religion and Spirituality

1. Do you believe in God? A) I believe in God and am confident He exists. B) If there is a God, He (or She) is more of a higher power or a set of moral truths. C) I'm not honestly sure. Part of me hopes there is a God, but I'm not positive. D) There is no God: Religion is just opium for the masses.

2. What is God like? A) God is whatever you want him to be. B) God is very much human. He is imperfect but also has positive traits such as humor. C) God is more of a force or idea. I don't see God as a literal person. D) I see God as a stoic person who created us in His own image. He is upset when we sin.

3. Complete this sentence: I __________ spiritual __________ religious. A) Am spiritual but not religious. B) Am both spiritual and religious. C) Am somewhat spiritual and somewhat religious. D) Am neither spiritual nor religious.

4. As a kid, I saw church as: A) An annoying waste of time my parents dragged me to. B) I made it fun, whether through friends or having my own good time. C) A fun time. I have many positive memories of church. D) A mixed memory. enjoyed the social aspect of church but couldn't buy into all of its rules and rituals.

5. Do pets go to heaven? A) If there is a heaven, absolutely. B) Yes or they are reborn. C) No, animals don't have souls like humans. D) Little Fluffy might not get into heaven?

Part VI: Money

1. How are you with money? A) I'm very good with money. I am rarely broke. B) I'm pretty good with money, but can also justify unnecessary purchases. C) I'm good with money, but there are times it just seems to fly out of my pocket. D) I like to spend money and sometimes it gets me into trouble.

2. At the end of the month: A) There's a good chance I'll come out a bit short. B) I can tell you how much I will have left almost to the penny. C) I don't keep track of my finances too closely, but I know that I will come out ahead most months. D) I'm okay because tend to have a nice reserve.

3. What do you spend on your vacations? A) I like to relax and feel very comfortable on my vacations. I travel in style, which doesn't come cheap. B) Since live frugally, I can afford most reasonable vacations. C) I tend to spend a bit too much on my holidays, but I am willing to stay in a cheap motel if it gets me where I want to be. D) Señor Frog's has my photo up behind the bar.

4. If I won the lottery, I would: A) Never work my crappy job again. See ya, suckers! B) Use the money to make myself financially secure even if it meant not changing my lifestyle for the better. C) Enjoy some of the money. I deserve a really nice car and house. D) PAR-TY!

5. How much did you spend on your last car? A) It's just a car. I got the best could afford. B) I love nice things so I bought a nice car. It might have been a bit out of my budget. C) I bought an inexpensive, yet environmentally friendly car. D) Ibudgeted for my car and am happy with my purchase.

Part VII: Miscellaneous

1. What kind of setting makes you the most comfortable? A) group of friends and other people who think I am clever. In work, I prefer to go it alone or with a partner. B) Large gatherings and parties. In work, I prefer places with a certain amount of regimentation. C) I try to avoid party settings and prefer intimate gatherings. In work, I prefer to work alone. D) Parties are good, but so are small groups. At work, enjoy being part of a team, especially if they appreciate me.

2. Who do you turn to in time of need? A) Only a couple of very trusted people. I don't trust everyone with all of the details of my life. I often compartmentalize people for different things. B) I turn to my very trusted friends. I don't feel they will judge me. C) No one at all. Maybe a trusted mother figure. D) Everyone. Friends, parents, coworkers.

3. What genre of books do you enjoy? A) Romance novels, photography books, young adult novels. I'm not a huge reader. B) Fiction and nonfiction on topics that interest me. C) Nonfiction, spirituality. I enjoy reading about people and the human condition. D) Mysteries, thrillers, science fiction, and anything that is enjoyable. I don't read books to make myself look cool.

4. How politically aware are you? A) I like candidates like Dennis Kucinich or Ron Paul (depending on political tastes). Politically, I focus more on causes like the environment, abortion, and war. B) I'm not overly political. I'm aware of major candidates and elections but might have a hard time quoting policy. C) Sometimes I vote, sometimes I forget. I'm more interested in local politics. D) have a strong interest in politics but have a pragmatic attitude toward candidates. There's just no way a half literate actor could become president (oh, wait).

5. If you were to commit suicide: A) I would never commit suicide. I just couldn't do it. B) I would have to do it in a painless way. C) I'd only do it to save my children or if were terminally ill. D) I'd take everyone with me first.

[mandelirious]

Spirit in the Sky

mando and reader discuss religion

word count: 1.2k

a/n: so! this is the first of what will hopefully be a series i’m calling dadrock. each fic is inspired by tunes from the good ol’ days with mostly mando/reader pairings. let me know if you enjoy! 

“Do Mandalorians have a god?”

A shining beskar helm lifted across the table from you. You took that as a sign that he was listening, even if you wouldn’t get an answer.

“I mean, I know you have the whole suit thing,” you gestured to his body covered head to toe, “but you just don’t seem all that religious.”

No response from the Mandalorian but you weren’t surprised. You’d been flying with him for almost four months now and had gotten used to having one-sided conversations. It was funny, you actually used to be quiet, only speaking up after carefully considering your words. Now, you talked a lot. Something had to fill the silence of the Crest and the child’s babbles weren’t cutting it. So you learned to talk. You spoke to Mando with little reply and you spoke to the kid, who was much more responsive despite the lack of speech skills. You spoke to the traders on whatever planets you stopped on, trying to keep your measly rations stocked. Your companion chimed in every once in a while, but never more than a few words. You were fine with that. Really.

“Or you’re like a priest and I’ve been deeply offending you this whole time.” You looked back down to the fabric you were attempting to mend. The kid had ripped a hole in his little clothes toddling after a bug. You were trying to fix it while he slept. It was still looking very much like a hole and you’d been working on it for ten minutes now.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” You hissed and jerked back your hand. You’d stuck yourself with the needle. Again. Dropping the whole project on the table, you went to the fresher to wash away the growing droplet of blood on your finger. Some healer you were.

When you returned to the table, you expected the Mandalorian to be gone. He sat with you more often than he used to, but he still preferred the solitude of the cockpit. However, Mando wasn’t gone. He was still sitting at the table, hunched over a small bundle of fabric, with one bare hand confidently weaving the needle in and out. You stood perfectly still, almost laughing at this wall of a man’s unexpected talent with something so delicate and small. The other part of you, the part you usually hushed, was mesmerized by the tan fingers at work. This was the most of his skin that you’d ever seen at once, and you wondered if maybe he didn’t want you to see it. You were turning to leave when a modulated voice stopped you.

“We used to have gods.”

You turned back around but still hovered in the entrance, caught off guard by this new dynamic.

“We have stories about them, but they are only stories.” He tilted his helmet up, almost like he was checking that you were still there. “We believe in each other. Our collective…being.” His sigh was barely picked up by the modulator but you heard it. It was like he couldn’t find the right words to express such a big topic. You moved back to the table and slowly sat down, watching as his fingers picked up their movement again. He was almost done mending the hole and you were already dreading the inevitable disappearance of his skin.

“That’s…beautiful, actually.” Your words weren’t quite right either, but his shoulders relaxed a fraction. “So…not a priest, then?”

You earned a laugh. It was small, but still a laugh. You grinned. It was quite the accomplishment, and you treasured it the few times it had happened. It was like seeing his skin, a reminder that he was someone under that beskar as much as he tried to hide it.

“Not a priest. I’d be a bad one.”

“I don’t know, you’re pretty good about that vow of silence.” You were still watching his sewing. He was tying it off now, nearly done. The two of you had fallen back to quietly sitting when he slid the clothes toward you and began to pull his glove back on. You were almost too focused on the motion to hear him.

“Does it bother you?”

You looked up, confused. “Does what bother me?”

“The silence.” Were you wrong or did he sound…concerned?

“Oh. Not really. I’ve gotten used to it ,I guess.” You shrugged, wondering where this was coming from. “You talk sometimes. You’re talking now.”

Mando nodded but he didn’t seem very convinced. You waited for him to stand up and leave. He didn’t. “Do you…have a god?”

Now you were really thrown off. The amount of personal questions he asked you had previously started and ended with your name and ‘are you hurt?’ on a particularly rough landing. This was…new. “I never wanted a god. It…never felt important.”

He nodded like he understood, surprising for a man who took his beliefs seriously enough to never show his face.

You searched for the words you wanted, and he waited patiently. “I believe in myself,” you started, “Not that I’m a god or anything, just that, I don’t know. I can control my own life, even if it’s just in a small way. I can choose what I put into the universe and what I take out. I can be an asshole or I can help. That’s what we’re all doing, right? Figuring it out as we go along?”

He was quiet for long enough to make you feel self conscious and shift in your seat. To be honest, you weren’t sure what to do with this much of his attention focused on you without the kid as a buffer. You had almost resigned yourself to the conversation having ended when he finally spoke again.

“I don’t think you’re wrong.”

Well, you’d take that. He kept going, though. This was definitely the most the two of you had ever spoken in one sitting.

“Am I a helper or an asshole?”

It was your turn to laugh. Was Mando actually joking with you? It sure sounded like it. He had a playful tone even through the modulator. “You know you’re a helper. I wouldn’t have stuck around if you weren’t. Not even for your impressive sewing skills.”

The Mandalorian shrugged, a subtle movement of his shoulders. You hoped he was smiling under the helmet. You wondered what his smile looked like, not for the first time.

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a rising confused babble from further in the ship. The kid was up, and working towards a scream it sounded like. You rose to comfort him, sometimes he got scared waking up alone. Something you couldn’t name stopped you for a moment, leveling your eyes at Mando’s visor. “I believe in you too, by the way.” You don’t know why you said it, but you knew it was true the moment it was out.

Thankfully, you were out of the room before he could see the blush spread across your cheeks. The kid calmed down pretty quickly after seeing you, but you picked him up for a cuddle anyway. Mando was gone when you walked by the table again, kid on your hip. You could picture him sitting up in the cockpit, watching the stars, and smiled. That night you fell asleep easily and dreamed of tan hands, fixing.

[asstronauts]

Alphabet Soup

rating: t word count: 1.7k pairing: jemily summary: perhaps love is in the little moments more than the grand gestures. 26 times (among many) that JJ and Emily fall a little bit more in love with each other in the everyday, smaller moments.

read on ao3, if you’d prefer

---

A - alphabet soup

JJ bought cans of alphabet soup for the boys when Michael first began to read, but Emily quickly found it much more entertaining to spell out words like "boob" or "ass" or "sex?" punctuated with a poorly modified capital P in place of a question mark. JJ had to shut it down when Michael asked what a "tit" was, and Emily panicked and mumbled something about birds.

B - bedtime

They would often unwind by reading before bedtime, and JJ found that Emily read through many foreign literature books. The nights she would fall asleep to Emily stroking her hair and reading aloud in words she didn't understand were the nights she felt most rested.

C - constellations

It was clear that Emily didn't actually know any constellations besides the Big Dipper and Orion. But when she laid on the grass with Henry and Michael, she made up stories in the stars about great heroes and the adventures they went on, and the boys fell in love with the night sky.

D - driving

JJ insisted on driving everywhere without the help of smartphone maps, which had gotten them lost on several occasions. Somehow it felt alright, when she had one hand on the wheel and one hand on Emily's leg, the windows were down, and her hair was streaming in the wind and reflecting the setting sun. Somehow it felt alright to be lost with her.

E - errands

For whatever reason, JJ made running any errand seem like immense fun. Buying groceries, getting gas, even sending a letter felt like an adventure when she was there. They'd only gotten kicked out of one grocery store — when JJ had knocked over an entire display stand of candy bars after running and jumping onto a shopping cart. They didn't regret anything.

F - forehead kiss

JJ wasn't that much shorter than Emily, but when the brunette pressed her lips to her girlfriend's forehead, JJ would feel the need to bury her face in Emily's neck to hide her blushing cheeks.

G - graveyard

On that day, JJ just needed space. So Emily took her to the flower shop the day before and drove her to the cemetery that morning and left her alone until she was ready. In the evening, they didn't speak, just laid with one another on the couch until JJ fell asleep in her arms.

H - horror movie

It was a cheap jump scare, but it made JJ scream out and grab Emily's arm, prompting the older woman to laugh at her. JJ responded with a playful slap, and Emily had to kiss her to reaffirm her love. They didn't finish the movie.

I - ice cream

On a day off, Emily took the boys to get ice cream, and when they came home raving about how Emily had managed to stack five ice cream scoops on top of a single cone, JJ knew she was with the right woman.

J - jaw

Emily's knees grew weak whenever JJ kissed up her jaw and whispered in her ear. Her girlfriend caught on and loved messing with her, working her up into a complete frenzy, then saying the most unsexy thing she could think of. Emily hated it, but she also couldn’t help but to collapse into a fit of giggles when JJ planted kisses all up the side of her face and whispered something like "corned beef" in a seductive voice.

K - kitchen

JJ would use every kitchen utensil as a musical instrument during any spare moment in cooking — while the food was cooking, while the water boiled, while the oven was preheating. She would sing into a wooden spoon and shove it into Emily's face to finish the lyric, and the two would dance in each others' arms all throughout the kitchen.

L - letters

When Emily spent her time in Paris and London, she and JJ wrote each other scores of letters the times they weren't together. They'd both filled up an entire box of papers and knickknacks until they were reunited. Even after, JJ would sometimes write a letter addressed to Emily, drop it into the mailbox and tell Emily to check the mail, for no reason except to make her smile.

M - mugs

JJ had an entire cupboard dedicated to mugs for her tea, which Emily could never understand because she only seemed to ever use two of them: one being a lumpy mug Henry had made in a pottery store and the other being a Valentine’s Day gift from Emily with lovely ceramic boobs protruding from the mug’s body.

N - notes

Emily bought a massive pack of post-its and began leaving notes for JJ around work, bringing a smile to her face every time she found a little colorful message. Some were encouraging — you can do it, you light up my world, you're amazing. Some were cheesy — i love you, je t’aime, when you see this blow me a kiss. And some were...questionable — JJ had to hide the extremely accurate (and well-annotated!) drawing of her naked body before Hotch saw.

O - omelette

Most of the time, Emily couldn't cook without the risk of burning the house down, but for some reason, she made the most scrumptious omelette. Despite not knowing how to cook scrambled or fried or boiled eggs, Emily's omelettes were always perfectly cooked, with an impeccable ratio of egg to filling. JJ tried everything she could to make them the same way, but the boys always preferred Emily's omelettes on Sunday mornings. JJ wondered if it was something she learned during her time in Paris.

P - plants

Before JJ, Emily had never been very good at taking care of plants. They seemed to die with little to no warning. But JJ had taught her well, making little plant calendars and teaching her signs to watch out for, and one morning, JJ caught her talking to one of the plants. As she listened more carefully, she heard that Emily was talking to each plant in a different language — according to the plant’s country of origin.

Q - quiet

The moments after the boys were put to bed were some of the only moments of quiet JJ and Emily got alone during the day. No matter how busy or tired they were, they always intentionally took a few moments to just quietly be with one another, curled up in the other's arms, lying in the other's lap, or simply sitting side by side.

R - rain

They'd gotten caught in the storm on the way back to the office from lunch. Despite JJ’s coat held up above them, the pair was getting drenched anyway, and they gave up and decided to make out in the rain instead. They swung their hands back and forth as they splashed over to the BAU, arriving soaked to the bone but elated, as Hotch shook his head at their sodden clothing and dopey grins.

S - Sergio

Emily had arrived home early and found JJ dancing in the hallway with Sergio to "Can't Stop the Feeling" blasting on the bluetooth speaker. She lifted her ban on Justin Timberlake that day, which had previously been in place when in a moment of weakness, JJ had declared she would choose him over Emily if given the chance. (She’d taken it back for Emily's sake, but deep down she couldn't really decide.)

T - thermostat

JJ liked the thermostat to be set at no lower than 77 degrees, while Emily loved the room as cold as possible. The first few months that they lived together was a horrible battle of constantly changing from one drastic temperature to the next, before JJ finally agreed to keeping the temperature low as long as Emily agreed to cuddle with her any time she got cold. Emily did not, however, realize that this compromise extended to the workplace, where JJ would sporadically ask for cuddles throughout the day, and Emily would have to comply.

U - ugly pajamas

Emily loved her ugly pajama sets. One of her favorites was a bright green Grinch onesie in a ridiculous Christmas sweater. JJ hated it until Emily showed it to the boys, and Michael howled with laughter and asked for one for himself. From that day forward, Emily bought her ugly pajamas in full family sets, including accompanying costumes for Sergio.

V - vanilla

Emily didn’t quite mind JJ’s early morning jogs because her favorite moments were when JJ came home after, took a shower, and climbed back into bed to give Emily a warm embrace, flooding her senses with the smell of vanilla shampoo. Emily would roll over to nuzzle her head in the crook of JJ’s neck and plant soft kisses there, breathing in her favorite scent.

W - wine

Emily drank red, JJ drank white. And Henry and Michael loved to join in, pretending to be adults by sipping grape juice from their colorful cups. Perhaps their family had unconventional tea parties, but at least they always had massive amounts of fun doing family activities tipsy. These were the nights when it was almost difficult to tell the difference between Michael and Emily’s coloring pages.

X - X-Files

JJ didn’t fully understand Emily’s deep obsession with The X-Files, but after Emily convinced her that she wasn’t only watching for Gillian Anderson, the younger woman began finding the long rambles and discussions of extraterrestrial life more endearing and interesting.

Y - yarn

JJ really wanted to get the hang of knitting and give something special to the boys, but Emily kept distracting her. Any chance she got, Emily would hold the yarn balls to her chest as fake boobs, use threads of yarn as mustaches, and drum the knitting needles against any surface. It wasn’t that JJ couldn't finish her projects out of annoyance — it was that JJ couldn’t help but laugh and find her girlfriend irresistible, forcing her to set aside her work and wrap herself up instead in the brunette’s embrace.

Z - zoo

It was Emily's explosive childlike joy when she had seen the dolphins. She claimed it was for the boys’ sakes, but JJ had noticed the pure excitement in her eyes when they saw the sign and felt the way Emily had tugged on her wrist to rush to the stadium and grab seats right in the splash zone. And in the screams of laughter and the moment when both Henry and Michael clutched at Emily when the water washed over them, JJ knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with this woman.

[writingwhimsey]

Kitsune's Love Ch. 1

A/N: My Mitsuhide fanfic based off the dramatic ending (because that may just be my all time favorite route ending in IkeSen).

Chapter 1

"Lady Ava, what do you think of this fabric?"

I turned at the sound of Saki, speaking to me. She was another seamstress that I worked with in Azuchi castle. I smiled at her a I looked at the beautiful silken fabric she held up. "The color pattern is quite beautiful." I agreed with her. I then spotted another fabric which would compliment this one perfectly. "Oh and then this one would be great with it."

"You have such an eye for colors, Lady Ava." Saki said, looking at me in an almost admiring way.

"You were the one to spot the first fabric." I told her. "In fact, I think that these will be perfect for the commission we are working on."

"You really think so?"

I nodded. "Now we'll just need these and a few more supplies and we'll be ready."

"Can we take a tea break?" Saki asked me. "I don't know about you, but I am getting a little hungry."

"Getting some tea and snack does sound nice." I agreed as we made our purchases.

Once we had finished with the fabric merchant, we were heading to a tea house. It was the same tea house I usually went to with Mitsuhide. It was definitely the best in town, though I am sure some of my fondness for it stemmed from the memories I shared with Mitsuhide.

"Is something wrong, Lady Ava?" Saki asked me.

"Oh, nothing." I answered, as I sipped my tea.

"Do you not like this tea shop? I thought I heard that you and Lord Mitsuhide come to it often."

I smiled at her. "Oh, I do love this tea house. I was just lost in thought."

"Oh, I should I have known." Saki replied. "This place probably makes you think of Lord Mitsuhide and miss him."

"It's alright. I know he'll be home again soon." I told her. Mitsuhide had left a week ago for a mission. There were rumors of rebellion and unrest in one of Nobunaga's recently acquired territories. Naturally he went to investigate.

"You must worry terribly about him while he is gone. He does take on dangerous missions, doesn't he?" Saki asked.

"I worry...but I know he'll always come back to me." I answered. "More than anything, I just miss him."

We sat and talked for a little while longer and enjoyed our food. Then we were heading back to the castle and the other seamstresses. The head seamstress gave her seal of approval on the fabrics we had purchased and we were all soon getting to work on the recent order.

We worked well into the afternoon. Everyone was departing before it got too dark out for them all to walk to their homes. I walked through the streets of Azuchi now myself, the setting sun painting the sky beautiful colors of red and gold. Normally I stayed and worked later and would walk home with Mitsuhide, but while he was gone I knew I had to leave earlier. Though Azuchi was relatively safe, it was still best not to be wandering the streets alone at night.

I wonder if there will be a letter from Mitsuhide. I thought as I walked to his manor which was now my home as much as it was his. The maids welcomed me home and even had dinner ready for me. I was a bit disappointed when I found no letter from Mitsuhide. It had been a couple of days since I had last heard anything from him.

After I finished dinner, I headed for the bath. I washed up and then enjoyed a bit of a soak before getting out and drying off. I slipped into my night robes and began walking to the room I shared with Mitsuhide, toweling my hair dry as I went.

I stayed up for a little while longer. I had brought my sewing work home with me and continued to work on it. When I got into a project, it was hard to stop and also having something to work on helped keep me distracted from the loneliness I felt with Mitsuhide's absence.

I had another few nights spent this way, staying up late and working. There were even a few nights I stayed in my room in the main castle. Nobunaga had insisted the room remain mine even though I was living with Mitsuhide now.

There had still been no letter from Mitsuhide. I was in my room in the castle working quietly alone when there was a knock on the door. "Come in." I called.

Hideyoshi walked in the room. "I thought I would find you still here. Aren't you supposed to be taking the day off?"

"I know, but we got a really big order in and I couldn't just not do my part." I countered.

Hideyoshi sighed and shook his head. "Well, you're done for the day."

"What?"

"You're coming with me." He said, holding out his hand for me.

I placed a loose stitch in my work to save my place and set it aside. I took his hand and allowed him to help me up. "So, where are we going?" I asked as I let him lead me out of the room.

"To the audience hall." He answered. "Council ran over and now we are having dinner."

"And you definitely need to eat, Lass."

I looked up as I saw Masamune coming to join us, carrying a tray of food. The three of us walked into the audience hall together and all took our seats.

"Ah, I am glad to see you were able to succeed in your mission, Hideyoshi." Nobunaga said from his seat above everyone.

"What mission was that?" I asked.

"Bringing you here, of course." Nobunaga answered.

"You've been working yourself too hard lately." Masamune said.

"And if you're not careful you're going to end up making yourself sick and then I'll have to take care of you." Ieyasu grumbled.

"We would all hate for you to get sick, Lady Ava." Mitsunari agreed.

"Wait...so Hideyoshi, what you said was a lie?" I asked.

"Not entirely." Hideyoshi answered. "Council did run over, but we've been planning to have you take a break and join us for dinner all day."

"I cooked all of your favorites." Masamune said, grinning at me.

I smiled at them. "You guys...thank you."

I dug into the delicious food and enjoyed a nice evening with my friends. I still felt a bit lonely without Mitsuhide there, but I definitely felt lighter than I had since he'd left.

"Oh, Ava I think you'll want this." Masamune said, handing me a letter.

"Is this from..."

"Mitsuhide yes." Masamune answered. "Came in just as I was finishing up dinner."

I smiled as I looked at the folded paper, my name written on the outside in Mitsuhide's clear and elegant penmanship. I swear even the way he wrote my name was with the utmost care.

"I'm surprised you're not opening it right now." Hideyoshi said from beside me.

"Well...some things are better left for private enjoyment." I answered.

"Oh, does Mitsuhide write you some naughty things, lass?" Masamune teased.

I felt my cheeks redden. "No." I said. "It's just that I prefer to read his letters to me in private is all."

There was more teasing and banter back and forth before the night was over. Soon it was clearly too late for me to walk back the Mitsuhide's manor. So it was decided that I would stay the night in the castle. I decided to turn in and headed to my room for the evening.

Once I was alone, I eagerly opened my letter from Mitsuhide.

Ava,

I am sorry that this trip has taken longer than expected. I do hope you're behaving while I am away. I believe I am close to being finished with my business and that I will be home in the next few days. Do take care of yourself for me...I promise when I return I will reward you for your patience. I love you always.

Love,

Mitsuhide

"You better be coming home soon, Mitsuhide." I said, as I finished reading the letter. I could hear the teasing and yet sweet tone of his voice as I read the letter...and the steamy promise in the last lines.

I fell asleep that night with a smile on my face as I hugged his letter to my chest. It was a couple of days later, I woke up in the room Mitsuhide and I shared. My head was pounding and my body ached all over.

"Lady Ava..." A familiar voice called from outside my door.

"Saki?" I asked.

She opened the door and smiled brightly at me. "I thought we could walk to the castle together today." She then noticed my appearance. "You're still in bed? You're face looks quite red as well. Are you feeling alright?"

"Just a little...headache." I answered, though I knew it was more.

She walked over and knelt down by the futon. She placed her hand gently over my forehead. "Goodness you have a terrible fever, Lady Ava."

"A fever?" came the voice of one the maids.

It was decided that I would stay home and in bed, resting. Saki agreed to take word of my fever to the castle. I wanted to argue, but I knew everyone was right. I was also feeling terribly weak and unable to get up from the bed.

"I hope I'm better before Mitsuhide comes home." I muttered to myself right before I fell back to sleep.

Mitsuhide...

Mitsuhide arrived back in Azuchi in the morning light. It was still rather early, the merchants were just opening up their shops in the market. He quickly made his way to the castle to report to Nobunaga and finish up any work he would have for the day. Then his goal was to find Ava and steal her away for the rest of the day.

"Ah, I see you have returned, Mitsuhide." Nobunaga greeted him as he walked into the tenshu.

"My lord." Mitsuhide greeted with a bow.

"I take it your mission was successful?"

"Indeed. The rebellion was taken care of before it could ever truly begin."

"Good." Nobunaga said, smiling.

Mitsuhide continued giving his report and the two discussed some other matters before Nobunaga was excusing Mitsuhide. Once he left the tenshu, he was greeted by his most loyal vassal, Kyubei. Mitsuhide had set for him as soon as he had arrived.

"Welcome back, my lord." Kyubei greeted him.

"Thank you and did you bring me those reports I asked you for?"

"Yes." Kyubei answered handing him the reports. "You are wanting to get your work all taken care of so you can spend the day with Lady Ava?"

Mitsuhide eyed his vassal. "You are becoming quite bold, Kyubei."

"I was only asking because I have something to tell you about Lady Ava."

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Mitsuhide asked, having a hard time concealing his worry.

"She has a fever. She's stayed home in bed today."

Just as Mitsuhide was about to turn towards the exit, he was greeted by a familiar voice. "There you are, Mitsuhide. You have a lot of explaining to do."

Mitsuhide turned to see Hideyoshi coming up to him. "You've come to scold me again, mother?" He teased.

"You listen here, Mitsuhide. You disappeared off to who knows where and then just popped back in. You had better give me a detailed explanation of what happened."

"I just finished giving our lord my report. If you'd like to know, I am sure he would be happy to share the details with you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have just been informed that my dear bride-to-be is in need of my care." Then without giving Hideyoshi time to stop him, Mitsuhide headed off.

He went to Ieyasu first to get some medicine. "She worked herself too hard again and made herself sick?" Ieyasu asked as he handed Mitsuhide the medicine.

"It would appear that way." Mitsuhide answered. "Thank you."

Once he had the medicine, Mitsuhide was heading towards his manor and the room he shared with Ava. When he walked in, she was sound asleep in their futon. She had kicked the heavy futon cover off in her sleep and her kimono was in disarray. Her face was clearly flushed with the fever and a light sweat coated her skin.

Mitsuhide looked at her with tender concern in his eyes. He left the room to grab a few more things and then returned with a bowl of cool water and two hand towels. He knelt down in the futon and gently pulled his beloved closer and rested her head in his lap. He picked up a hand towel and rung out the excess water before folding it up and placing it gently on her forehead. He then grabbed the other and dipped it in the cool water before dabbing at her face and then the exposed skin of her neck and chest.

"Ng..." Ava groaned and then her bleary eyes opened.

"Shh, it's alright little one." Mitsuhide spoke to her, his voice gentle.

"Mi..tsu...hide?" She asked, her eyes unable to focus from the fever. "Are you...home or am I dreaming?"

Mitsuhide smiled at her. "I assure you, I am home."

"Mmm...I'm sorry." She mumbled. "You're finally home...and I'm sick."

"You have nothing to apologize for. Though if you wouldn't push yourself so hard, you wouldn't get so sick."

"You've got...room to...talk." Ava countered.

Mitsuhide chuckled lightly. "True, but I would like to see better for my beloved." He was then gently running his fingers through her hair.

"Hmm...feels nice." Ava murmured sleepily.

Mitsuhide reached over for the medicine and spoon he had brought from Ieyasu. "Before you fall back to sleep you need to take this."

"Is that...Ieyasu's?" Ava asked.

"Yes."

Ava made a face. "No...tastes gross."

Mitsuhide chuckled. "My dear you have to take it to bring down this fever. Be a good girl now and I'll make sure you get a reward."

Ava grumbled unintelligibly but then parted her lips as Mitsuhide brought the spoon of medicine closer. She took it and swallowed, making another face as it hit her tongue.

"There, now have some water." He said, helping her to sit up just a bit more and then holding a cup of water to her lips.

Ava drank the cool water and then was settling back down onto the futon, Mitsuhide's lap serving as her pillow.

He bent down and kissed her forehead. "See, now that wasn't so bad."

Ava gave a sleepy smile to him. "Guess not."

Mitsuhide began stroking her hair once again. "Just rest now, I'll be right here with you." He assured her.

"Hmm...love you.. Mitsuhide." Ava said, her eyes already closing.

He smiled. "And I love you, Ava."

Mitsuhide continued to sit there with Ava's head resting in his lap. He kept the towel dampened on her forehead with cool water and used the other to keep dabbing at her face, neck, and chest. He gazed at her tenderly, watching as the redness in her cheeks slowly began to cool, signaling the fever also coming down.

"While I would much rather you be well, coming home to care for you is quite...enjoyable." He mused to her sleeping form. "Seeing you rest so peacefully on me."

He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there like that when there was a knock on the door. It slid open before he had a chance to reply and Masamune was entering carrying a tray with a covered dish on it.

Mitsuhide quickly pulled the futon cover back over Ava to hide the disarray her kimono was in. "Why must you always barge in here as if it is your home?" Mitsuhide asked.

"Ah, you're back. I hadn't heard that." Masamune said with a smile, ignoring Mitsuhide's question. "Did hear that the lass was sick with a fever again. Thought she could use some nice soup to help her recover."

Masamune was then walking over to sit the tray down beside Ava's sick bed. He was then taking a seat there as well.

"You've delivered the soup, you can go now." Mitsuhide said.

Masamune smiled at his friend. "Now, now here I am trying to help and you're trying to get rid of me. Don't tell me she's not really sick and knew you were back before anyone else and took the day off to spend with you?" He said, a teasing smile on his face.

Mitsuhide just glared at him. "Trust me if that were the case, you wouldn't have come in the door because...well it would have been rather obvious."

Masamune chuckled. He stayed for a while to chat with Mitsuhide before leaving, giving him the instructions on warming the soup up whenever Ava stirred.

Ava...

I woke up and looked at the room around me. The walls were all modern and decorated with posters of my favorite fashion designers and a couple of idol groups I loved as a teenager.

"Awe, you're awake. I'm so happy to see that."

I turned my head and saw my grandmother sitting beside my bed, smiling at me. "Obaasan?"

"You gave me quite the scare you know that. Your work called and told me you collapsed with a fever. You've been working yourself too hard again."

"I just...I know things are tight. I just...I really need to save up for design school."

Obaasan smiled at me. "You're so much like your mother at her age. She would work herself sick all the time."

"I know." I replied.

"You just have to slow down and take better care if yourself, alright? And don't worry, I'll be right here with you." Obaasan was then taking my hand and giving it a squeeze before kissing me gently on the forehead.

"Obaa-san?" I murmured sleepily, as consciousness slowly came to me.

I heard a faint chuckle from above me. "I think you're a bit off, my dear little mouse."

My eyes popped open and Mitsuhide's face came into view. He was leaning over me, a teasing smile on his lips. "When did you get home?" I asked.

"This morning." He answered. "I gave my report to Lord Nobunaga and when Kyubei found me, he told me you were sick in bed with a fever."

"Have...you...have you been taking care of me since you got home?" I asked.

"Of course." Mitsuhide answered. "I see you don't remember when I first got here and you woke up."

"I remember waking up this morning and feeling terrible." I said. "Did...did I say anything embarrassing?" I'd been having some crazy fever dreams since I had fallen back to sleep.

"Oh nothing too terrible." Mitsuhide answered, mischief in his eyes. "Just your undying love for me and how much you missed me. You even tried to disrobe, telling me you needed me so."

I felt my face heating up. "I...I did not. You're teasing me right now."

Mitsuhide laughed. "Don't be so sure. Just look at the state your kimono is in. It took everything in my power to push you back into bed and keep your clothes on you."

I looked down at myself and my kimono was definitely in a state, for sure. My shoulders were bared and one leg was sticking out. My breasts were just barely contained in my night robes. Though I knew that this could easily happen from sleeping not-so-peacefully, my mind couldn't concretely deny the possibility that Mitsuhide's words were the truth.

Mitsuhide's laughter pulled me from my thoughts. "I see the conflict in your eyes. You can't tell if you believe me or not."

I glared up at him. "Okay, now I know you're just teasing me."

"Well, you did just call me grandmother. I couldn't let you get by with that." He replied, that teasing smile still on his face.

"I was still dreaming." I replied, huffily.

Mitsuhide bent down, removing a towel from my forehead as he did, and then placing a gentle kiss there. "Your fever seems to be gone." He said with relief. "How are you feeling?"

I couldn't help but to melt a little at the tenderness in his eyes. He must have been so worried about me. I thought. "My head still hurts and my body aches a bit still, but definitely better than I felt this morning."

"Good." He said. "Are you hungry? Masamune brought over some soup a little while ago for you."

"I could eat." I replied.

Mitsuhide was then helping me to sit up, only then did I realize I had been using his lap as my pillow. He remain sitting behind me and then pulled me into his lap and brought the tray over for me. I thought about telling him I could sit up on my own, but decided against it and leaned back into him.

"And here I half expected you to tell me you didn't need to use me as your chair." He teased.

"Hm...well I missed you and being in your arms after so long apart...it's nice."

I felt his arms wrap around me then, pulling me closer. His lips were at my ear. "Then in my arms you shall stay."

I snuggled into Mitsuhide's embrace as he hugged me tighter and kissed the top of my head. "I love you, Mitsuhide."

"And I you, Ava." He replied. He was hen reaching for the spoon on the tray of soup. "Now, here let me continue to take care of you."

"I can feed myself." I said, feeling my cheeks redden.

"Now, now you have to keep your strength up, which means conserving your energy, which means allowing me to do these little things for you." He said, his voice soothing.

I relented and allowed Mitsuhide to feed me. When I had finished, Mitsuhide set the tray aside and gathered me into his arms all the more tightly.

"Now what were you dreaming about?" Mitsuhide asked, stroking my hair.

"Hmm?"

"When you were waking up, and called me your grandmother, you said you were dreaming." He answered. "What were you dreaming about?"

"Oh...well it was...kind of more of a memory." I answered. "Just about a time my Obaasan took care of me when I was sick when I was younger."

"Was that a rare occurrence?"

"No." I answered. "My mother died in an accident when I was young and my dad...he didn't have any idea how to take care of a young daughter...so my grandmother raised me."

"I see." Mitsuhide replied. "Well, at least I know I don't remind you of your grandmother."

I looked up at the sound of his teasing voice. "Oh I would never make that mistake."

Mitsuhide chuckled and kissed my forehead.

Though he was usually good about hiding his thoughts, I could tell there was something hiding in his eyes. I lifted my hand up to touch his cheek. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing, my dear."

"I know there's something bothering you, what is it?"

"It's nothing...I just missed you." He replied, though I wasn't quite sure that was all that was bothering him. He was then kissing the palm of my hand.

"I missed you, too." I replied, figuring that I would drop the subject for now. Partly because he didn't seem to want to talk about it and partly because I was so tired.

He was then lifting his hand up and his thumb was stroking beneath my eyes. "You look sleepy. You need to rest."

"Hmm, but then I'll miss you." I replied before letting out a yawn.

"I will stay right here with you." He reassured me. He was then lying us both back in the futon and pulling the cover over us. He kept me in his arms.

I snuggled close, breathing in his scent. His hands were rubbing soothing circles in my back. I soon found myself falling into a dreamless sleep.

Mitsuhide...

Mitsuhide laid there holding his love in his arms. She slept soundly, a peaceful expression on her face. A twinge of sadness was in his heart as he looked at her, so many thoughts swirling through his head.

He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. "You've given up far more than I anticipated, my little mouse." He murmured to her sleeping form.

Read chapter 2 below!

https://writingwhimsey.tumblr.com/post/659954486319726592/kitsunes-love-ch-2

[tallstars-rewrite]

Chapter 2

chapter list / previous / next

Tallkit was acquainted with the clan elders Flintfoot, Fennelpelt, and Whitetooth, but the elders' time was valuable and his mother had told him they didn’t always like to be disturbed without permission.

Sandstone led him into a shallow burrow lined with soft mosses and rabbit fur, tucked into the base of the tall hillside that rose above WindClan’s camp and sheltered it from the worst winds. Sandstone dipped his head to the old cats inside respectfully, and Tallkit quickly followed his lead, very careful not to bump his nose into the ground this time. Fennelpelt’s golden-brown eyes were kind, and Flintfoot regarded him with an impassive flick of the ear. Whitetooth was looking him up and down and Tallkit felt himself shrink a bit under the old tom’s sharp gaze, but at last he gave him an approving nod.

“I hope we haven’t disturbed you, Whitetooth.” Sandstone said, “I wanted to show Tallkit the project you requested I work on for you. I thought it would be a good beginning place for him to learn some basics.”

“Your little tom is always welcome here.” Fennelpelt purred.

“Certainly, he’s much less noisy than certain other kits.” Whitetooth said pointedly. “Flintfoot indulges them far too much.”

 Flintfoot pretended to not have heard him and returned to his grooming. 

Whitetooth blinked his hazy blue-gray eyes at Tallkit. “I hear you hope to continue our tunneling legacy.”

“Of course, your path hasn’t been decided yet.” Fennelpelt reminded them gently. “The council won’t discuss it until a quarter moon before its time for your ceremony.”

Tallkit was a bit surprised. He knew the council was made up of the leader, elders, deputy, and medicine cat, and that Heatherstar consulted them in making big decisions, but he didn’t think there was anything to discuss in regards to him. “I thought I was already meant to be a tunneler?”

“You are of course,” Sandstone said. “The council always meets as a formality. In the meantime, all kits could benefit from a little learning beforehand.”

Tallkit nodded and Sandstone took him to the back of the den. “We’ve been meaning to carve out the elders' den to create more space.” He leaned down and whispered with an amused purr, “Whitetooth and Flintfoot would prefer to sleep farther apart.” 

Tallkit watched as Sandstone put a big paw against the earth, and saw it was newly scraped out compared to the smoother packed in older walls. 

“We have room to expand a little farther this way, and you’re going to help me. The soil isn’t as frozen back here as it is on the surface. Slow careful pawfuls as opposed to fast scratching, work your claws into the soil and push it down behind you. ” 

Tallkit watched his father closely and tried to copy him, but his paws were just too small and weak compared to Sandstone’s tougher pads. For a moment the kit felt like he was making a little progress, then he slipped and his toe bent painfully against a rock. He screeched from the sudden pain and jumped back, shaking his paw. 

“It hurts my claws!” he whimpered. 

“Come now, the only way to toughen your paws is to keep practicing! Slow and steady gets it done.” Sandstone urged. Tallkit tried again, huffing with the effort but trying not to let it show.

“Don’t get discouraged, these things are never easy at first,” Sandstone said. “But these are our StarClan given gifts, and you’ll have them too in time.”

“I know about StarClan!” Tallkit said, “It’s where the cats that don’t live in camp anymore are. That’s where Finchkit lives”

His father blinked at him in confusion, “ Finchkit?”

“Mother’s other kit, my sister.” Tallkit tried not to feel frustrated. Didn’t anyone know about Finchkit?

“I see…” Sandstone murmured, “I didn’t realize she’d named it. It was too early.”

“Finchkit comes back to play with me sometimes,” Tallkit continued.

Sandstone’s confusion deepened. “That can’t be true, Tallkit.”

“But I thought StarClan talked to us?” 

“StarClan watches us and we learn from their wisdom through the tales and skills they pass down. Only medicine cats like Hawkheart can talk directly to StarClan. It’s not good to make up stories like that.” Sandstone’s voice wasn’t harsh, but Tallkit couldn’t help feeling hurt anyway.

“B-but why would Finchkit only want to talk to Hawkheart?” Tallkit complained “He’s scary and grouchy!”

“Don’t speak ill of our medicine cat, young one,” Whitetooth scolded. “He’s looked out for all you kits very well! It’s uncommon to have so many born in leafbare stay healthy, and it's thanks to him that you are. This is simply the way of things. StarClan belongs to a world beyond ours that we can’t touch.”

Fennelpelt seemed more sympathetic, “When I told you about it, I meant StarClan is always with us in spirit. They are always watching over you, including your sister. They may send us signs, but it’s not as simple as talking to them as we are talking to each other now.”

“It’s best you don’t talk about Finchkit,” Sandstone said quietly, “Your mother’s kitting was difficult, and I think she took the other kit’s death pretty hard. We don’t want to make things worse by reminding her of it. You understand, right?”

Tallkit nodded solemnly, but he didn’t really understand. Sure he didn’t see anyone exactly, but talking to her had felt right, like he could almost believe he heard her voice in return. It didn’t seem fair that he wasn’t supposed to be speaking to his sister at all. Who could it hurt?

Tallkit tried to refocus on digging but the soil seemed to be fighting him. He wasn’t shaping it at all, his claws kept snagging and he fought back a whimper.

“Don’t worry,” Sandstone urged. “You’re my son after all. Tunneling is in our blood going back generations. You're continuing a path walked by all the greatest ancient tunnelers, and you’ll uphold their legacy one day. That’s the real comfort that StarClan gives us.  You’ve surely been told of WindClan’s tunneler history.”

“Um...I don’t remember.” Tallkit mumbled. Was he supposed to know? All this talk about ancient paths felt like a lot of pressure.

“Those are our most important tales.” Whitetooth’s gravelly voice came from behind as Talltail finally sat back in exhaustion. “All warriors know the clan's legends by heart. If you don’t know them, it’s time you learned. It goes back countless seasons, to the clan's beginning.”

Whitetooth readjusted in his nest to sit up a bit straighter as he began. “WindClan’s tunnels are nearly as old as the clan itself. You know the story of The Wind Runner, who became Windstar, WindClan’s first leader. She was the swiftest cat that ever lived and rejected the easy comfort of the trees to face the wide open sky.

“Windstar had two children to carry on her legacy. The first born was called Moor Song. She was the image of her mother; swift-footed, lean, and faster than the strongest wind that whistled through her fur when she raced by. Then there was Windstar’s second born, who earned the name Stone Claws, the earth shaper. He was the strongest cat on the moor, and the most resilient.  Moor Song was bold and relied on her speed and instincts to survive any hardship, but Stone Claws inherited his mothers wit. He was calmer, more clever, and creative. He could be trusted to help the cats he served think of a new angle when the obvious solution wouldn’t work. 

“And even in those times, young WindClan had the threat of ShadowClan on their border. The Wind Runner and The Shadow Keeper have always been bitter rivals.  Back then, the claim to our land was new, and it was agreed cats should live in the places they could make the most use of. But true to her nature, the Shadow Keeper had no qualms about cheating her way around this agreement. She wanted fewer enemies, and hoped the dark woodland of her territory would one day grow out and expand over the empty hills. She bet that her stealthy and wily cats could put the moors' land to better use. The Shadow Keeper resorted to making a risky deal with the foxes of the forest, promising them good hunting forever on the moor if they caught all the WindClan cats they found. Her warriors were free to lead the foxes to their targets under the cover of darkness, pick off any frightened stragglers, and slip away before they were seen. She hoped that the pious Wind Runner would take this sudden misfortune as a sign from StarClan that they weren’t meant to have this territory, and that she would give it up.  However WindClan are not fools, and the Wind Runner knew that Shadow Keeper was up to something. Not even foxes would break her will.”

Tallkit shivered at the thought. He’d never seen a fox but he knew they were large, red, and had very long teeth. The image of such beasts rushing over the moor toward him set his fur prickling. “How could WindClan fight off ShadowClan and foxes?” he gasped

Sandstone eagerly took over the story. “That's the best part. It looked grim at first. WindClan put up a fight, and they could chase their enemies across the moor, but they exhausted themselves never knowing where they would come from. So Wind Runner sought her children's expertise. This inspired Stone Claws' first tunneling systems, and the idea to use them for evasive tactics when there was nowhere to run. His legendary strength allowed him to carve out a whole tunnel in a single night. Shadow Keeper was sure no cat would outwit her, but her arrogance that she had us cornered was her downfall. Using dug out rabbit tunnels as cover, they learned how to use the darkness below the ground against her and took her night ambushes by surprise. ShadowClan might know tricks and stealth in their own territory, but they did not know the moor and never thought how to use the barren ground beneath their own paws. When the foxes she’d tried to goad into chasing WindClan were unable to track down the cats that disappeared underground, they grew angry and hungry. They turned on Shadow Keeper’s own and chased them deep into the forest. That is what ensured ShadowClan would always be confined to their poorer territory, to creep far away from StarClan’s gaze. They survive by treachery, that's why they could never master the moorlands, where the eyes of StarClans are always close.”  Sandstone’s nose curled with disdain. “ShadowClan’s been the most envious of WindClan ever since, even if they won’t admit it. They have more spies than any clan, eager to take our secrets to get one step ahead of us, but at every turn WindClan is there to cut them off.”

Fennelpelt nodded gravely “The only silver lining to the twolegs appearing closer to clan territories is their thunderpath has cut us off from ShadowClan, and discouraged much of their snooping.”

“It’s also made it harder for us to keep an eye on them.” Sandstone said grimly, “For now at least.”

Tallkit was glad to have anything warding off ShadowClan if they were as his father said. “I can’t believe The Shadow Keeper thought she could trick WindClan into thinking StarClan was against us!”

“Indeed. WindClan holds our ancestors closer than any cat.” Whitetooth rasped. “When the clans were lost and needed guidance, they saw a light from StarClan shining down to the north-eastern mountains. They say it was Stone Claws who carved the path through the mountains to the Moonstone. No earth was too hard to stand in his way. WindClan was the first to speak to StarClan there, and that’s why we have always been blessed by them, and why it is us that guards the path all the clans take to Mothermouth.”

Sandstone carried on, “Stone Claws became the next leader of WindClan after his mother for his bravery and wit in securing their home. His skills and lessons remain for us to learn from when WindClan is faced with new challenges from our many enemies. It's from him that we get our tough paws and resilience. We’ve honed the ability to navigate in underground darkness, and learned how to chase rabbits and moles into their hiding places; invaluable hunting techniques that kept us fed in hard times. WindClan tunneler paws will never wear or bleed long after other softer pawed cats will. ” He got a distant fervent look in his eye “The Wind Runner taught her children everything she knew, and they in turn taught their kits their own skills. It was passed down from cat to cat, and they say when you receive those skills and gifts, the Wind Runner considers you one of her kin as well. That’s why your training is so important, Tallkit. Learning from your elders and continuing their legacy is how you cement yourself as truly one of Wind Runner and Stone Claws’ own. Many cats can run like Moor Song, but it takes a truly special warrior to master one of the most difficult skills we know. And if I'm lucky, by following in Stone Claws’ pawsteps, in your lifetime you and me will see it brought to a greater potential than ever before.” 

“What kind of potential?” Tallkit asked.

Sandstone purred “You’ll learn more about it when you’re older. I have big ideas in development that I've been preparing for moons. The legacy we leave behind will be one remembered and passed down for generations. Something I want you to build with me.” He leaned down and rasped a rough tongue over Tallkit’s ear. “Maybe someday there will even be nursery tales of us to tell to future tunnelers.”

His father’s earnest excitement filled Tallkit with a great sense of importance. He was really carrying on a part of something so much bigger than himself. 

But deep down, there was also a hint of worry at how much seemed to be at stake. He didn’t really know how to envision what the great tunneler wanted him to do. But the eager warmth in Sandstone’s gaze was a look he never saw in his mother, and Tallkit wanted to latch onto it, drawn to it like a flower was drawn to face the sun. He couldn’t help matching his father’s purr. That unwavering confidence made Tallkit feel he could chase away all his doubts and worries solely through the power of Sandstone’s belief in him. In that moment, he was sure he’d do anything it took to help his father’s dream become real. Even if he had no idea what exactly it was. Sandstone clearly knew the path, and wanted him there, and that was enough.

“It’s an admirable thing your father is doing,” Whitetooth purred, “Wasn’t long ago I was running the tunnels myself, if only my joints could keep up with it. Some cat needs to speak up for us. Of course,” He added with a sour note in his voice, “We’d always do more if we had a tunneler like you in our leadership as well.”

“Whitetooth,” Fennelpelt warned, “This point has long since been discussed. Heatherstar sought our council and the decision was made.”

“I didn’t agree to it.” Whitetooth grumbled.

“What do you mean?” Tallkit asked, noticing Sandstone who wore a similar sour look when Whitetooth spoke. 

“It’s an unspoken rule that when a moor runner becomes leader, they will choose a tunneler as their deputy, and vice versa.” Sandstone replied, “It’s why Badgerstar, a tunneler, chose a moor runner like Heatherstorm as her deputy in the first place. But when she became Heatherstar, she chose another moor runner instead.”

“‘Ain’t ever been an official rule,” came Flintfoot’s gravelly voice. The old former moor runner had been listening after all.

“Ain’t no cat asked you.” Whitetooth growled at him. “I was outvoted. I can’t help wishing some cat like Sandstone here was deputy like everyone thought he would be.”

“‘Everyone’ seems like an exaggeration. And I’m sure they would work together fantastically.” Flintfoot said under his breath.

Tallkit looked up at his father but his expression was unreadable.

“It is not our job to undermine our leaders' decisions, Whitetooth.” Fennelpelt said firmly. “Reedfeather is an honorable cat and has always put the clans' needs over his own. That is all a deputy needs to be.”

Before Whitetooth could reply, the conversation was interrupted as Tallkit noticed the moor runner, Aspenfall, slink in through the den behind them.

“Sorry to barge in!” His voice was muffled and Sandstone stiffly stepped out of his way as he squeezed past. His wiry gray-and-white pelt was flecked with stray bits of grass and he carried a mess of moss and stems in his teeth which he dropped unceremoniously in front of Whitetooth’s nest.

“Good morning Father.” The scrawny moor runner purred to Whitetooth. “Hunting patrols’ back.”

“It took you all long enough. Messing around again, were you?” Whitetooth grunted in reply. 

“Certainly not. I never mess around. I brought you moss for your nest, and Lilywhisker is fetching you all fresh kill.”

“That better be new moss.”

“Of course it is. Only the absolute best for you. Every cat knows you’ll accept no less!”

He purred and grinned at him as he padded the wad. Tallkit didn’t know Aspenfall well, but even he could clearly hear the hidden notes of sarcasm that dripped from his voice.

Whitetooth glared at his son through narrowed eyes.

“Is this normally the tone you take with your elders?”

“You're always family first and an elder second, isn’t that right?”

“Of course, I could expect nothing else from my own son, who I raised and cared for. And yet, I believe you haven’t come to bring me new moss in ages. What’s the occasion?”

“Occasion? Why, I just felt like coming to visit my dear old dad!” Aspenfall purred.

Whitetooth continued glaring at him. “Cloudrunner made you?”

“Cloudrunner made me.”

The tension in the den was thick, Tallkit shuffled backwards uncomfortably. Aspenfall was smiling pleasantly, but his thin tail was twitching behind his back. He dutifully began placing the moss around his father’s nest, but Whitetooth was clearly quickly growing tired with the game.

“Well isn’t that considerate of you” the old tom said flatly.

“It’s my pleasure!” Aspenfall trilled. As he turned to walk away, he flashed a grin at Tallkit and winked at him.

“I’m sure it is.” Whitetooth grumbled, “‘Hope you at least collect enough moss bouncing about the moor all day like a mad rabbit--OW! There’s a thorn in here!”

Aspenfall looked over his shoulder innocently. “What? A thorn? Couldn’t be.”

“It’s filled with thorns you mouse-brained brat! There’s a dozen tangled in my belly fur!”

“Nonsense. I would never.”

“Pluck them out this minute, I ought to have your tail!” Whitetooth snarled. Getting to his wobbly feet, he smacked Aspenfall on the rump.

Lilywhisker strolled up behind the bristling moor runner and shoved him around her towards the entrance with her muzzle before he could turn around and smack the elder in return. “Alright Aspenfall, thank you for your contribution. I’ll take it from here.”

“If you insist, I’ll leave the pleasure to you.” He turned with his nose stuck up, sure to smack his father on the muzzle with his tail before he left.

Fennelpelt relaxed back into his nest “StarClan bless your heart, Lilywhisker” He rolled his eyes. “It’s always a joy being around when you two are within earshot of each other.” 

Whitetooth sat back down with an angry huff. “It’s not my fault! StarClan knows what happened to that kit along the way, it certainly wasn’t my doing! I tell you, you give your time and energy to bringing a cat into the world, and you get no respect at all for it, sometimes I wonder why I bother--”

Whitetooth probably would have gone on longer if Sandstone had not interrupted. “Nevermind it Lilywhisker, you bring in the prey. We’ll fix your nest for you, Whitetooth.”

“Thank you.” Whitetooth huffed. “At least some cats in this clan still have a sense of decency.”

Tallkit was proud that the elders seemed to think so highly of his father. The oldest warriors' opinions were held in high esteem by the clan. Except for Aspenfall I suppose. Tallkit thought. He was among Sandstone’s least favorite Moor Runners.

“Is Aspenfall always like that?” Tallkit whispered once he had helped pull out most of the thorns from the bedding.

“Yes, if you ask me,” Sandstone scoffed. “Certainly around his family. Aspenfall should consider himself lucky he still has a parent at all, most cats in the clan don’t anymore since the long hunger of the last leafbare took so many of our elder members.”

Fennelpelt nodded, “Thank StarClan you are lucky enough to have been born after such miserable times. No young cat should have to go through so much loss so soon--”

A muffled commotion from outside interrupted the elder, and Tallkit saw his father’s ears prick. Some cats were arguing in the camp clearing. 

Sandstone stood up with a sigh. “That sounds like Plumclaw. I’d better go see what’s happened. Come on, Tallkit. We’ll continue your lessons later.”

Tallkit followed him out of the den to see Plumclaw standing at the fresh-kill pile, pawing at a rabbit while glaring up at Aspenfall. Tallkit recognized the other two patrollers as Cloudrunner and Redclaw. He knew Redclaw was Shrewkit and Briarkit’s father, though he’d only ever seen the tom at a distance. His fur had a similar reddish sheen to Briarkit. 

 “This rabbit is from the far east side of the moor, isn’t it?” Plumclaw said accusingly. 

Aspenfall blinked. “I don’t know, maybe?” 

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s fur smells of clay soil, that’s what the eastern burrows smell like. Is that where Redclaw decided to take you?”

Sandstone had already padded over “Redclaw, you know the tunnelers told the rest of you to avoid that area!”

Redclaw’s fur began to bristle “Are you kidding me? It’s leaf-bare! We’ll hunt where we smell food.”

“It’s the only small corner of the territory we asked cats not to go running through. We have a tunneling project going in that corner, Dawnstripe already collapsed a tunnel entrance three sunrises ago by jumping on it!” Sandstone said.

Redclaw scoffed “that area is too dangerous to be tunneling in! It’s the second tunnel that’s collapsed there.”

“It’s not dangerous if you know what you’re doing.” Sandstone retorted. “We’re not even asking much. This project will open new opportunities for all of us, but not if you go tromping through it before we’ve had a chance to make them stable.”

Aspenfall stuck his nose in Sandstone’s face. “Who died and made you deputy? If your projects get in the way of the clan hunting, then they clearly aren’t very helpful!”

Sandstone gave a deep growl that made Tallkit quiver. Hearing his father use such an angry tone was unfamiliar to him. “The tunnels have helped bring prey to the clans that the moor runners couldn’t catch for seasons! Try showing a little respect for once you--”

“Alright that’s enough!” came a sharp voice. A tall, sleek gray-brown molly with narrowed stormy blue eyes stood at the front of her den. WindClan’s leader, Heatherstar, strode across the clearing.

 “Tempers are short in this weather, but we don’t have the energy to waste squabbling with each other.”

Redclaw stepped away from Sandstone and dipped his head, but Sandstone held her gaze with an icy one of his own. 

“I know Woollycloud already explained this to you and Reedfeather. Why hasn’t Reedfeather enforced it in the hunting patrols he organizes? We’re trying to keep this together and prevent any runners from getting themselves hurt by putting their paws where they don’t belong. I thought that was what you wanted.”

Heatherstar looked steadily at him, ignoring his tone. “I apologize for this miscommunication, and I know you want what's best, but I cannot demand that cats let prey go in their own territory during the cold moons when they scent it. I want your project to be shown through to completion as much as you do, but you’ve wanted cats away from the whole eastern side for nearly a moon. We can’t afford to ignore such a wide stretch of territory in these times. Focus on stabilizing the current tunnels rather than digging further.”

“We need to reach the mid way point before newleaf! We can do it, if only-”

“That’s final, Sandstone.” Heatherstar said. “If you are worried about the tunnels destabilizing, then fixing that should be your only priority. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

 She turned, signifying there was nothing more to say on the matter.

 Plumclaw muttered under her breath. “Easy for her to say.” 

Sandstone shook his head and gave an angry huff. “Now me and Woollycloud are going to have to rearrange our plans again. Crowfur’s not going to be pleased.”

Woollycloud, having heard the commotion, padded carefully over to his tunneling partner. “I’m sure we can come to a compromise. I’ll speak to Reedfeather.” He blinked sympathetically down at Tallkit, “Sorry you had to see all that. The moor and tunnel runners have been butting heads lately.”

Tallkit knew that Sandstone disagreed with some of his moor runner clanmates, but he didn’t realize things were so bad. And if Whitetooth was right about Heatherstar not being eager to support them, it was surely only going to get worse.

 I hope this doesn’t mean Father won’t let me play with Redclaw’s kits anymore… Tallkit thought glumly. It was lonely enough knowing they wouldn’t get to train together, but he didn’t want to have to stay away from Briarkit and Shrewkit when they were in the nursery too.

The rest of the runner patrol had already gone off, Redclaw and Aspenfall’s heads leaning in together as they muttered to each other. 

Sandstone bent down to Tallkit, and pointed his muzzle subtly in Aspenfall’s direction as he walked off with Redclaw. “That cat there is a prime example of why you don’t need to be messing around with moor runners. Stuck up, think they're better than the rest of us. Redclaw is no better, and I suspect he’s passed his attitude on to his son. Aspenfall could have been a great tunneler, but he shunned his father and his work. That’s why he’s more suited to being with the other runners. He doesn’t have the toughness or the guts for the work, and couldn’t care less about his kin. Between us, I'm embarrassed to say I'm in the same clan as him sometimes.”

Tallkit nodded. The harsh tension in the air he’d felt between Aspenfall and Whitetooth was startling. Whitetooth was his father after all, Tallkit couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have that sort of relationship. Aspenfall was kind of scary, and played too rough with the other kits, even though Mistmouse’s litter seemed to think he was great fun. Tallkit didn’t mind never ending up like that. Perhaps it was good after all that he wasn’t going to train with the other moor runner kits.

chapter list / previous / next

[dangerouscommiesubversive]

all my tubes and wires and careful notes

Fandom: Kamen Rider Ghost

Characters: Tsukimura Akari, Alia

Song: "She Blinded Me With Science," Thomas Dolby (playlist here)

Note: Thank you to @si-siw for letting me borrow your headcanon and infecting me with this ship! I hope you enjoy the story!

The skies of the Ganma World may be clear, but the ground remains in a state, and so Akari and Igor have been working non-stop for nearly five hours when they hear a quiet, polite cough and look up to see Alia standing in the laboratory doorway. When she has their attention, she says, softly, “Are you on the verge of any particular scientific breakthroughs?”

Igor seems poised to launch into an extended explanation of what they’ve been working on, but Akari cuts him off with, “Not really. Decent progress, but nothing big yet.”

“I see. Thank you.” Then, directly to Igor, “In that case, I will need to borrow Miss Akari for a short period. You should use this time to have a meal, you’ve been working for some time.”

Blinking, Akari makes sure all of her notes are in order and then follows Alia out of the room and down the hall. “What did you need me for?”

She can see the curl of Alia’s tiny smile just from the way it changes her profile, before her mouth has even really moved. “I wanted company for lunch. And,” slightly more quietly, “I thought you might like some time out of Igor’s company.”

“I—yeah, I really do, thank you. He’s not a bad research partner, he’s just…” Akari gestures vaguely as she hunts for the right words and then settles on the diplomatic, “high energy. Plus at some point I’m going to have to explain the whole ‘I’m a lesbian’ thing and I’m not looking forward to it.”

“Is he very persistent?”

“No, you know, he really isn’t, but it’s still a conversation that we’ll need to have.” They turn a corner, go through a doorway, and are unexpectedly in a small sitting room, mostly plainly decorated, although one wall holds a painting that Akari blinks at. “Wait, did Cubi paint that?”

The tiny curl of a smile comes back. “He did. It makes the room brighter. Please, sit.”

Lunch is already served, the small table set with tea and sandwiches, and when Akari sees them her stomach growls, and she blushes. “Excuse me, I guess I am hungry.”

“Then sit down, please, and eat.”

Something seems odd as they sit down to eat, but Akari’s so hungry that she doesn’t bother working out what it is at first, in favor of wolfing down sandwiches as she gives Alia a progress report on the soil research. It’s nothing to do with the food, at least. Not the tea either, although the blend is unfamiliar. Certainly it isn’t Alia’s manner, she’s listening and asking thoughtful questions as always.

It’s—

“I love your manicure,” she’s saying, “sometimes I wish I could do fun stuff with my nails, but I do so much with my—I’m sorry.” She lowers her cup, blinking. “I just realized I don’t think I’ve ever seen your hands before.”

Alia looks down at her own hands, wrapped primly around her teacup. “No, I suppose you wouldn’t have.”

“I, if this is rude to ask then stop me, but do you hide them on ohh.” Akari trails off mid-sentence as a pattern of vividly pink circuitry pulses from Alia’s wrists to her manicured fingertips. “Oh, that’s beautiful.”

There’s a moment of silence as Alia stares at her in faint but obvious surprise. “Do you think so?” She lifts one hand from her cup and turns it in the air, as if she’s seeing it for the first time herself. “They’re prosthetic. My real hands were badly injured in one of the early trials of Eyecon technology. These are lifelike, but as you can see, they aren’t a perfect counterfeit.” The circuit pattern pulses down them again as she holds her hand out to Akari, a stylized eye appearing for a moment in the center of her palm. “My father preferred to address the issue as he addressed many others in his later life, by ignoring it, and so I became accustomed to keeping my hands concealed. In my Eyecon form they were whole, of course, but old habits are hard to break.”

Akari stares at Alia’s extended hand in shock and fascination. “I…wow, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up a painful subject.”

“It’s all right. It was more than a hundred years ago at this point.”

“Oh, yeah, I suppose it…wait, if your hands are prosthetic then how did you manage the manicure? Are they acrylic?”

“They’re magnetic.” Suddenly smiling, Alia sets down her teacup and removes one of her pointed, painted thumbnails, revealing dull metal beneath, and then puts it back on. “Alain had several sets made for me as a gift shortly after we all returned to inhabiting our original flesh.”

“That was thoughtful of him.”

“He’s always been a thoughtful boy.”

Akari takes a sip of tea, amused by the reminder that of course Alain’s sister still thinks of him as a boy, and the meal continues in companionable silence for a few minutes until she realizes something else. “You were involved in the original Eyecon trials?”

Another one of those tiny curls of smile. “Of course. I was Edith’s research assistant for many years.”

“You were? Why didn’t he ever—of course he never mentioned, why would he give someone else credit. What parts of the project did you work on?”

“Oh, most of them, I’m primarily an engineer but I’ve dabbled in a number of scientific disciplines. And I do some design as well. Would you like to see my workshop?”

“I would love to.”

---

The first thing Akari sees are the notebooks. The heavy bookcase in Alia’s lab does hold some academic texts, but more than half of it is packed with enormous ledgers bound in dark leather, so many that she’s shocked the shelves don’t groan under their weight. Two more lie open on an enormous rolltop desk, their unlined pages filled with with notes and sketches in a tiny, precise hand. On the walls hang several large, heavy parchment sheets, on which are hand-drawn diagrams of machinery, hibernation capsules, an exploded Eyecon, and—

“Is that…Alain’s suit?”

“Yes.” Alia reaches up and trails a fond hand down the edge of the diagram, which is labeled Necrom—for Adel? Alain. “I designed it.”

“Oh.”

“And here is Makoto’s.” The next diagram, Makoto’s name written at the top in ink much less faded than the rest. “And the next one is an early draft of what eventually became Takeru’s, although Edith did some further work with it that he didn’t inform me about. He designed and built the transformation devices, but the suits are my work.”

“Oh, I…” Akari stares up at the diagrammed suits, the close-up sketches of tiny components, more of Alia’s perfect handwriting in notes that she can only partially read. Some are in Japanese, but others are in Latin, and more are in a language that she doesn’t recognize. There are more diagrams, too, rolled up in a wooden bin, each one neatly labeled. Specter 1.0, Necrom (Alternates), Wraith, Manes and Lemures, Eyecon (Prototype), Hands. And the tables—once she can tear her eyes away from the wall she sees that there’s a blank Eyecon disassembled on one table, and on another is an Ulorder with a panel open lying on top of yet another diagram, this one in different handwriting and weighed down at the corners with books. “This is the most beautiful room I’ve ever been in.”

“I am very glad that you think so.”

“I, I just.” A bit of futile gesturing as Akari struggles for words, and then, “Look, can I. Can I buy you dinner?”

Alia…blinks. “Pardon me?”

“I would, um, love to take you to dinner sometime, so we can. Talk. More. Because I really like talking to you. And, and maybe a concert or a movie or something, or there’s a History of Engineering exhibit at a museum near the temple, I know you haven’t gotten to visit the human world much and I could…show you around.”

There’s a long moment where Alia’s just staring at her and Akari considers the very serious possibility that she just messed up big time.

“I,” she starts again, “that is, if you want—”

“I would enjoy that.” Alia takes one of Akari’s hands in both of hers. Akari can feel how cool they are, the odd smoothness of the skin as pink circuits pulse down them, and normally she’d want to know more about that but right now there’s so much other stuff happening even if really it’s only one other thing. “A concert, if you know of one coming up, I think I get enough of engineering in the normal course of my day that maybe the museum might be better saved for a second visit.”

Akari’s ears are ringing. “There’s, um, a performance from a popular violinist coming up next Thursday night? Takeru gave me two tickets, he knows the performer…somehow…”

The curl of smile, small and warm and directly entirely at her. “I enjoy violin music. And we can discuss our work over dinner.”

If she nods any harder she’s going to get dizzy. “That. That sounds wonderful. I’ll, uh, I’ll pick you up at five!”

[creativekat]

PTC : part ii

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader

[ gif by @pascalsky​ ]

Word Count: 1,563

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: unintentional body piercing play

A/N: The response to the first part of this story was so overwhelming and we can’t thank you enough! @the-purity-pen​ and I are having so much fun writing this! Let me know if you’d like to be tagged on the next one! THANK YOU! Also, you can read Part One here!

It was Friday afternoon and you found yourself at the local grocery store. Often you went daily to pick up the few things you needed each night for dinner, but on Fridays you liked to shop for the whole weekend. That way you had time for any home projects and grading that you had to do. The problem was you weren’t quite sure what you were in the mood for which led to you wandering the aisles, picking things up here and there. 

You had just turned into the aisle with canned fruits and vegetables and were considering getting some canned peaches to make a cobbler when you heard a familiar voice call your last name, “Hello, how are you?” 

You turned to see Marcus Moreno walking toward you. You couldn’t help but smile, seeing him wearing jeans and a tee-shirt, “Did you play hooky from work today? Your secret’s safe with me, if you did.” Then tentatively you added, “And, if I’m supposed to call you Marcus, you should call me by my first name.” You gave him your name and a slight smile. You couldn’t help but notice how well his jeans fit him, not to mention how the t-shirt lovingly clung to his upper body. You suddenly became very interested in the label on a can of pineapple.

Marcus repeated your name softly as if committing it to memory. The way it rolled off his tongue made your heart skip a beat but you were busy occupying yourself with the can of pineapple. “No, no hooky today,” he laughed and the sound was so pleasant. It was different from the nervous man that had sat across from you to discuss his daughter.

Maybe it was the change of scenery or the fact that neither of you needed to be “on” while grocery shopping. “Missy is having a sleepover this weekend so I gotta stock up on some junk food,” he told you and shook his head. Somewhere deep in his mind he was mentally cursing himself for allowing a sleepover of five preteen girls to happen in his house. That definitely would have been better territory for his wife.

But Missy was making friends and that’s what mattered to him. He knew she felt left out of so many things whether it was because she didn’t have her own powers or because of being the leader of the Heroics’ kid. So her having friends that wanted to sleep over was a big deal. You were glad to hear that Missy was having a sleepover. You remembered going to a few when you were her age. You never hosted, but not because you didn’t want to, but because your parents wouldn’t allow it. Looking back their reasoning made sense, but at the time it had just felt like another punishment for being different. 

You looked up from the pineapple label and smiled sympathetically, “You have my sympathies. What do you have planned for activities?” Keeping a group of pre-teen kids from getting bored, even in each others’ company would be important. When they got bored, they got creative. And that was when bad things happened. “I can give you some ideas if you want. I was a pre-teen girl once.” You bit your lip and looked away, slightly embarrassed at the fairly obvious statement. 

His eyes scanned the aisle a bit, feeling like the conversation was going a bit stale. “Fruit in a can or fresh fruit? What’s your preference?” he asked as he leaned forward to grab a can of apple pie filling that was right next to you. As he leaned over, his voice was soft and velvety in your ear. 

You glanced at the can in his hand, “For pie? Depends. Have you made pie before?” You didn’t want to make any assumptions. Just because he was a man didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled in the kitchen. You pictured him standing at the counter, mixing up some delicious concoction, biceps moving as he stirred, and your mouth watered at the image. Your cheeks burned instantly.

“Yeah but,” he paused to read over the can, trying to ignore his desire to look you over. “It’s been a few years. I’m not much of a cook,” he mumbled with a nervous chuckle before turning to put the can in his cart. He turned back and moved closer to you and you felt a spark of desire run down your spine. You swallowed hard as he reached around you again, quietly apologizing for the intrusion.

But his eyes on you made him miss which can he was aiming for. His hand swept at the empty spot on the shelf and ended up knocking off three other cans in rapid succession. “Shit!” he cursed under his breath as his hand reached out, his powers manifesting to stop the metallic can from falling. 

You sucked your lip between your teeth fighting the urge to gasp or making any sounds revealing the pleasure his power had just elicited in you. Not only had his magnetic ability affected the cans on the shelf but it had pulled at the nipple piercings concealed beneath your shirt as well as the silver barbell that decorated your clitoris. Your nostrils flared with the effort to suppress the moan that nearly escaped your lips. 

Marcus looked at you questioningly at your obvious stress, but you merely smiled in return, your eyes blazing with unanticipated need. When you finally found your voice, it was higher than normal, “Something tells me you know your way around. A kitchen, I mean.” Your face bloomed with heat and you finally had to turn completely away. You leaned into your cart, faking the need to rearrange the items in your cart. 

Holding the caught can in his hand, he watched as you turned around towards your cart. He took a moment to straighten up at your words. “Uh, yeah a bit,” he said as he turned and put the can he had caught but not really wanted back onto the shelf. “My wife she, uh, she did most of the cooking and I know Missy misses it so I thought maybe a little cooking activity for the sleepover could be fun,” he rambled. When you didn’t turn around right away, he furrowed his brows and moved closer to you. “You okay?”

Your breast and clit still tingled from the stimulation they’d just received. But, of course, you couldn’t tell Marcus Moreno that. Taking a moment, you breathed in slowly through your nose then exhaled through your mouth. Finally you turned to face him, a smile on your face, “Oh yes, I’m fine.” After a moment of thought, your eyes brightened, “You could have them make their own personal pizzas!” Now that you were face to face again, you were reminded of just how handsome he was. 

Marcus was eyeing you, trying to figure out what had you so flustered. He cleared his throat and nodded at your admission of being fine. He figured he’d have to take it for what it was. But the way you brightened actually took him by surprise. You were standing a lot closer than he realized and for a moment his breath was taken away.

His brain fog finally cleared and he nodded slowly. “Personal pizzas? You think they’d like that?” he questioned and you were more than happy to give a strong nod of an answer, trying anything to quelch the burning deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking, again, about the brief moment of pleasure he’d given you. Your mind ran with the thoughts of what other things he might be able to do. Distractedly, you grabbed a couple cans from the shelf and placed them in your cart causing Marcus to smile. You glanced down at what you’ve just dropped in there and cringe “I bet you thought people only used mincemeat at the Holidays." 

You looked at him, feeling like he could see right through you. After all, you were acting bizarre. He gave a small forced smile, trying to hide how confused he was at this interaction but laughed off your comment anyways. “It’s delicious,” he commented as he watched you. “Do you, uh,” his hand came to rub furiously at the back of his neck.

“Do you have any free time this afternoon? To, uh, I don’t know, help me find a recipe that would be easy for them?” his head dropped down as he asked but he pulled his hand from his neck and looked up at you with earnest puppy dog eyes. He figured since you were a teacher, you’d know what would be easy for their age group to follow as far as instructions.

Your eyes widened momentarily in surprise, but then you smiled, “Uhhh … I think so … I mean, yeah, I can clear my schedule.” You didn’t want to seem too eager to spend time with him. He was still Missy’s father. But, he was asking for help. There wasn’t any need to read too much into it.  You arranged a time to show up at his place and tried not to stare as he walked away. Once he was clear of the aisle, you reached into the cart and put the disgusting can of fruit back on its shelf.

[fallowdoe]

All roads lead to Hell

MC gets kidnapped and has to make their way through Hell to reunite with everyone.

GN!reader x everyone (can be treated as platonic/romantic)

Trigger warnings for this chapter: none

I apologise for the quality of writing however this is a translated version of my fic.

If anyone is interested in that I was listening to Casey tells the truth, the whole Split soundtrack is my big inspiration for this story. I’d advise onto playing it in the background while reading.

Chapter 1 - Prolouge  ⇒

A few candles lit up the room. The gentle light was adding to its already mysterious aura. Solomon’s dorm was filled with all kind of grimoires and spellbooks. The floor was covered with tons of torn-out pages and patterns drawn on a yellowish paper.

Trying out one spell after another MC seemed to grow more and more annoyed. The upcoming exam was one of the most important ones and Solomon’s constant teasing wasn’t the most helpful.

"Focus or you won’t get anything done, MC." The sorcerer stated while leaning against a wall. He wasn’t even trying to hide the amusement in his voice.

"I am focused" They mumbled irritated. It was their ninth try of casting this, so-called easy, spell. A marble laying on the table seemed to look at them pitifully. It was a one bastard piece of glass. Even more irritated MC moved their hand above it once again. 

"Neque ultra intuebitur eum" they mumbled. The space around them seemed to start drawing energy towards their hand. A quiet electric buzz filled their ears and they could feel their cheeks heat up. But just as they were about to direct the energy towards the toy it would suddenly unload. The marble remained untouched, and MC could bet that if it was possible it’d poke its tongue at them. Or maybe even raise a very specific finger up. "Neque ultra intuebitur eum!"

Nothing. 

"No! It’s impossible! It’s impossible and that’s it! You gave me a broken marble." They grunted and dramatically sat on a chair pouting. 

Solomon snickered at them and approached the table. He muttered the words of the spell and the marble was gone immediately. 

"Cheater. I bet it was enchanted or something." 

"Maybe." He smirked. "Try again."

MC groaned under their breath but stood up again. The sorcerer walked up to them and placed his hand on their arm giving them a reassuring look. "That’s gonna be seriously lame if you fail again tho.” 

They replied with a huff and tried to refocus. Closing their eyes, MC began collecting energy again. It was a weird feeling. Suddenly they’d notice that the whole room was in fact like a river full of it. Their task was to change its current toward themself. This spell didn’t require a lot of effort, only a bit of thought. Stronger spells could even sweep someone off with an uncontrolled current.

 They’d never admit it but sorcerer’s touch was rather helpful. It made them feel grounded. Goosebumps rose on their hand. They cast the spell again. 

"Lame." He chuckled.

"Huh?!” Their eyes shot open searching for the marble but the table was empty. They laughed and playfully punched his chest, making him laugh. "Asshole.”

Content, MC threw themself on the bed as a mark of their victory, Solomon was quick to follow. 

"You realize that this was shit compared to regular magic?” watching them struggle was incredibly amusing to him, apparently. 

"Like I don’t know" They frowned. He smiled in response and laid back next to them. 

The silence of the room, moving flames of the candles and its overall aura was really comforting.

"You should be able to pass the exam tho" he mentioned. 

"It’s a lot, you know? Everything." MC wondered. 

"I know." 

"I just can’t wrap my mind around it.” They began playing with their hair. 

"You could do much more without a hassle.” He stated like it was something obvious and leaned on his elbows while looking at them with a smirk.

"Wow, thanks for being an asshole.” They muttered, the hair they were playing with fell on their face. 

"A supportive asshole.” 

"I’m not sure if I could do more.” They spoke trying to blow the curl off. Hesitation making its way in their voice. "It’s still too new and…” 

”Overwhelming?” 

"Yeah… Convincing someone that hell is real is one thing but throwing them inside is something else.” They followed gentle shadows of the flames on the ceiling with their eyes.

"Why? You’d prefer a flaming river and little red devils instead of your seven demon boyfriends?” 

Both of them laughed at the image of the brothers' with spiked tails and tridents. 

"No, I don’t think I would.”

 Empty walls of RAD were enhancing every sound, making every single word echo for a few seconds before disappearing.

 "MC, ya comin’ or what?" Mammon was standing at the end of the hallway talking with Beel. 

"Just a second!" they screamed while taking stuff out of their locker and putting it in a bag. They were planning on returning to the House of Lamentation as soon as the school day was over to prepare for an exam. But their Devildom History textbook was nowhere to be seen. "Ugh, I left a textbook in the classroom. Wait for me, I’ll go get it!" 

"Just hurry up! I’m not explainin’ to Lucifer why we’re late again!" 

The palace garden was full of exotic flowers, nothing like what they’d seen before. The number of colours and shapes worked wonders, some of the plants were gently glowing and lighting up the eternal night. Some had spots and some seemed to move on their own. MC could swear that they could even hear glassy sounds of a few.

"No matter how many times I see those flowers they always amaze me.” Diavolo was lazily examining the garden grounds. "Some of them only grow here. I’m doing what I can to keep them from going extinct. The species come from all of the three realms. That’s why you can spot some familiar ones.” He explained. ”I’m hoping to replant them one day on its original grounds.” 

"Thanks to magic?” MC was sipping on some tea. 

"Thanks to a good gardener, actually.” Barbatos smiled.

"Oh.” Both men laughed at their confusion. 

The quiet evenings in Lord Diavolo’s castle were a nice change from their usual ones. Their small chats quickly turned into a regular thing, always accompanied by a nice tea made by Barbatos.

"Magic definitely helps as well.” 

The wind was shyly blowing between the palace columns. Moth-alike creatures were roaming the garden, their wings glooming in the soft darkness. 

"I don’t think I can get used to it. The magic.” 

"Maybe, it’s a good thing. Living in constant awe of something." The Demon Lord smiled and gave them a soothing look. 

They quietly hummed in response.

 Lucky for them, the classroom was open. They entered not bothering to turn the lights on. The lost textbook was waiting for them on their desk. A dark and empty classroom felt really heavy, MC grabbed the book and just as they were about to return to the hallway they noticed an envelope that must have been hidden underneath it. 

"What? " They muttered. An elegant paper and a wax stamp made it look important. If not for their name written on the back they’d probably leave it alone in fear of getting hexed or pranked. Instead, curiosity made them break the stamp. 

 "Geez, what is taking ‘em so long?" Mammon huffed. They were gone for only a few minutes but making HIM wait was quite an offence.

"Maybe we should go and check on them" Beel mumbled from between his sandwich bites. 

"Hm, to get lost on your way for a textbook. Dumb human." Mammon stated annoyed. He was energetically tapping his foot.

"Come on, they probably locked themself in the classroom or something."

   As soon as MC fished the sheet of paper from inside the letter, they started shivering. Cold air began circling them, their vision fading. All the sounds of the world around them suddenly gone. Sudden exhaustion taking over them, an empty void. It was a calm, soothing sensation. Like falling asleep…

  "It’s empty” Beel stated exiting another classroom. 

"Ow, come on! They gotta be somewhere ‘ere!" anxiety was slowly making its way in Mammon’s voice. 

"Try this one – he pointed at the door on the other side of the hallway." 

"If they’re not in the…" a powerful charge of energy went off when he tried to reach for the doorknob leaving both demons in shock for a second. 

"MC!" Mammon bailed inside an empty classroom. 

Loud voices filling the House of Lamentation kept the atmosphere tense.

"So they forgot a textbook…" Lucifer tried to keep calm, but his furrowed brows showed how tense he actually was. "…and went to get it…"

"Yeah!"

"…alone." He shot his brother a disapproving look. 

A guilty nod. 

"So, you went after them and discovered a sudden burst of energy in the classroom." The whole situation was more than inconvenient. It was a tragedy to be specific. An exchange student disappearing on the grounds of the academy. The exact one who couldn’t protect themself from any magic. The foreign trace of a powerful spell didn’t make the situation any better. The eldest took a quick glance across the room.

"We found this." Beel pointed at their textbook laying on the table. 

"Are you sure that they just didn’t go somewhere?" Satan uttered.     

"I’m tellin’ ya how it went! They’re just gone like that!”

"They sure can’t be far, right?" Asmo’s question was left unanswered. 

A motion of loud voices filled the room, everyone discussing what might have happened.

Lord Diavolo approached the table with a stern look on his face. If it was true that something happened to MC while they were at RAD then he was the one at fault for not keeping the academy grounds safe for them. He took the book and examined it. Devildom history. It had MC’s name written on the first page. Nothing appeared to be wrong with it. Just a regular textbook. "It’s just a textbook if anything had to do with their disappearance it couldn’t be it. Is Solomon on his way here?" 

"Yes, I called him a while ago he should be here anytime." Lucifer confirmed. 

It wasn’t even about the project anymore, MC was missing and it filled all of them with an unpleasant feeling of guilt.

"Can’t Barbatos use his powers and find them?”

The butler sadly shook his head.

What previously was a state of anxiety, now was slowly shifting into a panic whit every passing hour. As long as they were alone in Devildom, they definitely weren’t safe. 

"Something happened to MC?!" Luke’s voice caught their attention. 

Both angels and Solomon were standing in the entrance to the dining room, looking rather startled. 

"We don’t know yet." Diavolo stated calmly. 

They joined everyone by the table and Solomon took the textbook. He gave Diavolo a specific look and the demon lord nodded in response. He started studying it. 

"Are they safe?! Why aren’t you worried?!" the young angel kept questioning. 

"I’m sure that MC’s okay." Simeon’s white lies weren’t exactly suited for an angel. 

"Of course, everyone is worried." Belphegor stated irritated. "That’s why we called you!" 

Solomon tried to quiet out the rambling and kept examining the book, but just like Diavolo confirmed, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about it. That was unless he opened it and a single sheet of paper fell out.

[thesaltofcarthage]

Penzey’s Spices on Loki

Like everybody, Jeri and I look for shows to watch. Sometimes things are recommended, other times something just pops up and you give it a try. In that "just give it a try" category was the English version of Wallander. It’s well acted and you care about the characters but its four seasons really are a long, dark spiral. Ultimately, in the very last moment it ends in a way as a cook I think you would appreciate, but the road there is hard. If you were to watch it you should give serious thought to watching the episodes in backward order, that way the show’s arc would be ever more hopeful, ever brighter.

Somewhere watching the show, towards the end of the first season or beginning of the second, I actually paused the show and said to Jeri, “That guy.” As I pointed to one of the junior detectives in the back of the scene. “Why won’t someone give that guy a show? I could watch him read the phone book.” With the way he almost never got any lines this would mean him reading the phone book silently to himself, but I was okay with that. In the bleakest of shows he somehow managed to deliver humanity with just the look upon his face. Most every scene he was in became something better, something more decent just because he was there.

Flash forward 10-12 years and that actor, Tom Hiddleston, now does have his own show, Loki, on Disney+ and since the universe responded to my request, I feel obliged to put in a plug for it. Plus, it’s starting to cook. New episodes air every Wednesday. Last week’s episode was a breakthrough and in many ways was a retelling of the Grinch story where Loki’s heart grows not one, not two, but three times larger simply by coming to understand firsthand he is someone worth loving. In some ways it reminded me of the also very worthwhile Elton John biopic Rocketman. Good stuff all around.

And of course this is one of those shows with a mystery behind about who really is in charge and what they really are up to and those shows never end with viewers happy with the big reveal. As I was explaining to the kids just last week, as much as it may well seem like naming a street after a living person is a really good idea, in the moment it rarely is. But even if, as hinted at, Loki only gets this “one brief shining moment” to be good and find happiness within the Marvel Universe, it’s still a good moment to be a part of. Obviously Loki has some work ahead of him and obstacles to overcome if he is to prove he is indeed a good friend to Möbius, but I’m rooting for him.

Earlier in the season in a restaurant scene that wasn’t really a restaurant scene, there was a discussion over what to order and one of the options was potato skins. This started a discussion in the Penzey house. Jeri and I will be married 19 years next month and to the best of our recollections in all those years I’ve never made her potato skins. The kids have never even had them. So, start with larger baked potatoes the way you like to bake them. If you are new to baking potatoes, wash them, poke them with a fork 8-9 times all around and then place them in a 400-degree oven for about an hour turning once while baking. They are done when they “give” when squeezed, or if you prefer to use a thermometer when the center reaches 205 degrees.

You can bake these a day in advance, but they are even better the same day. Let them cool for a bit and then cut potatoes into thirds lengthwise (this is the fun bit :) ) then scoop out the center part of the potato leaving about 3/8ths of an inch of potato still attached to the skin. In the old days I would butter the inner part of the potato, now it’s a drizzle of olive oil. There are trade-offs in life. Then a good sprinkling of Sandwich Sprinkle followed by the shredded cheese of your choice. Inspired by Loki visiting 1985 Oshkosh, Wisconsin in the second episode, I went with three cheeses: mozzarella, 2-year Cheddar, and pepper Jack. Wisconsin is fun.

Next comes bacon or no bacon. Usually I’m not a crispy bacon kind of person, but for this if you want to use it, precooking it to crispy and then crumbling is the way to go. And if you picked up the Potato of Love as part of our June Rainbow Pride giveaway, this is a really good spot to use those. Then it’s just a matter of placing them in the oven until they reach your desired level of melty. I like them just a little bit browned, but the kids had not had them before and we wanted these to be liked.

While they cooked I mixed 1 tsp. Justice Seasoning with 1/4 cup Sour Cream and Jeri cut up and lightly mashed a medium avocado to which we added 1 and 1/2 tsp. Salsa & Pico Seasoning and served these on the side. We had a hit! Jeri said we should do these more often. And Grandma Ruth, who loves nothing more than sacrificing for her grandkids, quickly grabbed seconds before the kids even noticed the supply wasn’t endless. This made me so happy!

If you have access to Disney+ please consider giving Loki a try. To get people to cook they have to see the value in caring for one another. There’s not a lot of shows out there that radiate this. Ultimately as the show itself says: “Most things in history are kind of dumb and everything gets ruined eventually.” But for now we have Camelot quotes and DB Cooper and people caring about each other.

And if a segment of this year’s Emmys is to be Tom Hiddleston, Owen Wilson and Sophia Di Martino quietly reading the phone book to themselves I would be good with that. But Wilson has a whisper like no other. They probably should consider using that. And maybe if Wunmi Mosaku was up there with them as the one who isn’t getting many lines now but should have her own show ten years from now, that would be good as well. Progress matters.

Thanks for reading, thanks for being our customer,

Bill bill@penzeys.com

(Penzey’s Spices is an online spice merchant with a liberal bent. The company spent $92,000 on ads calling for Trump’s impeachment. Penzey’s actively donates to the Trevor Project and local charities, and promotes vaccination, voting, funding teachers, and helping in your community. They speak out often and ferociously against racism, including giving away BLM stickers with their orders. And their spices are THE. BEST.) 

[bag-chips]

(Apologies for the length, messy handwriting poor quality uwu)

I binged all the Mechanisms albums in one day and became utterly obsessed with the idea of them being Jon’s uni band. On top of this I got thinking about the theatre lines in MAG 172. Ergo, here’s a master post of various Mechanism!Jon and Theatre!Jon scenarios! (it’s mainly Jonmartin fluff I’m not going to lie to you). It took four days. Last night I stayed up till nearly four trying to get it done cos I hate myself ;)

1) My design for Mechanism Jon. He’s absolutely one of those guys who grow excessive facial hair to look older and more mature. And, oh look! Some JonGeorgie stuff. Rather than being a member of the band, I’d like to think she acts as the behind the scenes manager, helping out with bookings lighting and costumes. It will become apparent that Jon is like my fave and I’m soft for this stupid little man.

2) Depressed S3 Jon with the Admiral. Jon prefers to not talk about the band, especially since most of the Archival staff make fun of him for it anyway. However, he absolutely ends up quoting Mech songs when he’s on his own, especially when emotionally compromised. The aftermath of this little sketch would be Jon spitting out the whisky and nearly throwing up because he hates the taste and can only really stand very weak alcoholic drinks (hey hi hello I’m projecting).

Stupid sketch of him taking part in a Shakespeare production. Jon was and still is a theatre kid, taking part in any play or musical he could during his uni years. He’s a dramatic little bitch but damn does he have a fantastic stage pressence. Georgie proudly supports him from behind the curtain.

3) Martin finds out about the Mechanisms through Tim, who uses the material to expertly tease Jon. Martin finds pictures. Martin’s crush is cemented he is homosexual he is transfixed by the images. This leads to him listening to the albums, which outside of them being by his crush he genuially does love them. He often finds himself listening to them whilst working around the Archives, but takes great efforts to hide his love of the Mechs from a curious Jon.

4) Everyone at the Archives knows about the band. Tim and Melanie are the lead culprits in mocking him about it, especially in the tense work environment of S3. (For context Mechanism shows had the tradition of Jonny De’Ville claiming he was the captain, with Gunpowder Tim and the audience then proclaiming that no he’s the first mate Jonny stop Jonny no. Go listen to the Death of the Mechanisms you’ll see).

5) Post-MAG172 argument. Who will win? The poetry nerd or the theatre kid?

6) (Read downwards until the next row the layouts weird cos I sketched it whilst sleep deprived at 2am ;) ). Jonmartin fluff!

TMA is a tragedy. Listening to the Mechanism albums has made that very clear. So the next couple of images would be set in a happy ending AU fuck u they’re going to get married let me dream.

7) (Apologies for the weird writing again sleep deprived). Jon wants to fulfill his side of the bargain and take Martin to the theatre. After many trips to Georgie’s and a lot of planning, Jon decides to take them on a date to see Cats at the West End, since it turns out Martin knows the original poems. Thing is, this is their first proper date. And it so happens to conicide with their first anniversary. And Jon wants to spoil Martin with an engagement present as an apology (Jon ruined the proposal with his eye powers). Jon wants to go big. And it just so happens that Elias left a lot of money. He decides to go ham and get them a private box. He gets Georgie to book it for them since he wants it to be a surprise and despite his Eldritch mind google he can’t figure out how to work a laptop.

Martin is told he’s going to the theatre. However it takes until they’re collecting the tickets at the front desk for Jon to reveal the seats and thus allude to the expenses. Martin has always worried about money given his upbringing, and panics, nearly having a full blown argument with Jon in front of the ticket man. Jon really should have listened to Georgie’s warnings.

8) (The Wikipedia text box thing was inspired by a brilliant TMA comic, once I find it again I’ll link it!) Jon is very much excited for the perfomance, and infodumps about it. Martin is still annoyed about the expense of the date but starts to relax and mellow out once he gets a glass of wine in his hand and a quiet moment to listen to his fiancée talk passionately about something.

9) The gays get ice cream and discuss who’s the prettiest actor in the interval. Martin is very much wired to how Jon works now, and uses the conversation to calm him down a bit (I think Jon was very much concerned that Martin might leave him over this bless that man).

10) The couple head home after a few quiet drinks at the bar. Jon is exchausted - mentally strained by the worry of perfecting the date, his emotional investment into the show and the two glasses of wine he had. Martin forgives him for the excessive nature of the trip, but would be lying is he said he didn’t enioy the show (even if it was mainly experiencing it through Jon’s expressive face, investment and him mouthing the lyrics quietly to himself). He’s going to ask if they can maybe listen to a different musical album whilst Jon recovers from his inevitable hangover tomorrow, but first he needs to gently carry his pissed and sleepy partner up to bed.

I wanted to draw soft things I’m sorry I love this podcast with all my heart have a nice day

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Won’t You Stay (Part 12)

Summary: With the reader now acting and directing, things are about to get a bit more hectic. Until things go horribly wrong that is...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, implied past domestic abuse, arguing

A/N: Please enjoy!

_____

“Put your left foot back,��� said your stunt coordinator the next morning, Jensen sipping on a coffee as he watched you rehearse on some mats. “Now get your butt in here Ackles. It’s your stunt too.”

“But coffee,” he whined, chugging it down quickly before he set the empty cup down. He jogged over and took a place by you, giving you a smile. “She has no idea what she’s gonna do, does she.”

“Y/N, we’re gonna have you flip, Jensen,” said Adam. You stared at him and then at Jensen, looking him up and down.

“I can’t flip him! Have you seen the size of him?” you said. 

“Shouldn’t have written Molly getting pissed and going hulk then,” said Jensen. “It’s not a big stunt. You don’t even have a real fight scene. One little flip is all.”

“Jensen, come at her like we practiced. Slowly,” said Adam. Jensen walked in front of you and made the first move Adam had showed you. You grabbed his hand and Jensen spun you around. “Pause. Y/N. Now that your side is to him, you’re gonna use your hip to flip him.”

“Uh...” you said, Adam stepping in and taking your place. 

“You’re gonna plant your feet, Jensen’s going to lean forward and then...” he said, pushing out his hip, tugging gently on Jensen’s arm and then using his hip to get Jensen up and over. He slammed back down on the mat and gave a thumbs up. “Y/N, you’re up.”

Jensen hopped up to his feet and got back in position. You started the move again, pausing when you got to lifting him up.

“You got power in those hips. Go on, use it,” said Adam.

“You won’t hurt me, Y/L/N,” said Jensen. You grabbed his hand and put out your hip, Jensen leaning forward and you felt yourself pick him up, leaning forward so you could flip him on the ground.

“Good, very good. Let’s try again a little faster,” said Adam. You reset and tried it again, Adam smiling more this time as it looked more natural. It certainly felt it. “Good. Perfect. Practice a few more times but I think you guys got this. I’m gonna grab another coffee and Jensen we’ll work your fight scene for tomorrow more when I get back.”

“He gets to enjoy his coffee,” said Jensen, rolling over on the ground.

“Can we try a few more times, grumpy?” you asked. “I’ll let you in on the secret coffee club.”

“There’s a secret coffee club?” he said, shooting up with a smile. 

“Yup. Very elite. If you help me learn this stunt, I can pull a few strings and get you in,” you teased. He smirked and stepped in front of you.

“Oh, I think I’m getting in no matter what,” he said.

“Is that a fact?”

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be,” he said.

“Oh really,” you said. He hummed and wrapped his arms around you. “Not very effective.”

“It will be,” he said, dipping his head down to your neck and kissing under your jaw.

“Cheater,” you growled, giggling when it started to tickle.

“Morning kids,” said your dad, Jensen practically jumping away from you. “I’m not interrupting am I?”

“Practicing a stunt,” you said, Jensen nodding quickly. Your dad looked him up and down.

“That what they’re calling it nowadays,” he smirked. “Don’t mind me. Carry on.”

“Just uh, really go for it this time,” said Jensen. You nodded as you started the move again, your dad humming as you flipped Jensen over.

“Jensen, get a bit closer to her. She won’t need to put out her hip so far and it won’t look as rough,” said your dad. He shrugged as he got back up, your dad rolling his eyes when Jensen got into a new position. “No, get up behind her, like touching.”

“Like this?” asked Jensen, his thigh brushing the back of your leg. 

“Yeah. Try it that way. You’ll both save your backs a bit,” he said. You tried flipping Jensen again and it felt like one smooth motion that time, your dad giving a thumbs up. “Much better.”

You practiced a few more times before Adam returned and you swapped out with your dad, he and Jensen going over a fight scene.

“Jensen, come find me when you’re done here,” you said.

“Will do, pretty girl.”

“Reporting for duty,” said Jensen, knocking on the door of your office up in the production suite an hour later. You smiled and finished typing an email, sending it off. “I was hoping I could get in on this coffee deal before we start filming soon.”

“You going to try giving me a hickey again?” you said as you stood up and grabbed your bag.

“Only if you want,” he said, flashing a wink your way. You laughed and headed out to the hall with him. “I take my coffee very seriously so I hear about a secret coffee club, I’m in.”

“You know how my dad and some people stop over to the workshop in the morning where they build sets? Check out office B sometime,” you said.

“Why not now?” he said. 

“Because I have to go to a staff meeting,” you said. “Unfortunately.”

“You could always skip,” he said.

“I don’t think I can. But head over and grab some before we get going. We’ll start in twenty minutes,” you said. “Okay? I’ll be over soon.”

“There she is,” said your dad when you finally made it to set half an hour later. “You forget where work was?”

“Can everyone gather around?” you called. You walked over to the center of set, waiting a beat for the crew to get together. You shut your eyes and let out a slow breath of air, reluctantly opening them. “Alright guys. I just had a meeting with the studio execs. Apparently a complaint was made yesterday about the slowness of filming scenes I was involved in. I would have preferred whoever it was came to me or their supervisor directly but it’s too late for that now. The studio decided that I can either continue as the director on this project or I can be an actor. I apparently lack the experience necessary to manage a project of this scale while doing both.”

You took another deep breath and sighed.

“I…” you said, finding your dad’s face in the crowd. “I have decided-“

“It was me,” he said. You stared at him, your face falling. “Can we discuss this in private?”

He stepped forward and grabbed your hand, pulling you outside.

“Kiddo-“

“No,” you said, shrugging him off. “I...I just told them I would stop production so they can find a new actress. Either way this thing is dead. They’ll never pick it back up now so thanks for that.”

“Y/N-“

“Fuck you,” you said as you stormed away. You felt his hand on your arm and you turned around. “Stay away from me. Forever.”

“Y/N,” he said.

“You know, this book, this movie, has been the one fucking happy thing in my life the past year and you had to go and rip it away from me because I ran us late one fucking day,” you said. “You gave me six fucking hours to figure out how to manage everything before you went and pulled the carpet out from under me. Six hours. I was delegating today, I was figuring it out but apparently it was too fucking late for you.”

“Kiddo-“

“No. Just stop. Big fucking movie star, always gets his way. Well work is cancelled. Go the fuck home. You don’t have to worry about being late now,” you said. You could feel the tears running down your face and knew you couldn’t go back inside and talk to everyone like that. 

“You can’t do both. I could see how overwhelmed-“

“I am not a child!” you shouted back. “You do not make those decisions for me! Who the fuck are you to say I can’t do something? Fuck you. You’re a fucking shitty dad. I would have been better off with the bitchy dead mom.”

He stared at you as you wiped off your face with your shirt. You walked back onto set, ignoring the looks you were getting.

“As I was saying, I decided to keep my directorial role. Production is going on hiatus while the project searches for a new female lead,” you said, voice cracking. “It’s unclear how long that will be but the estimate given to me was for months. Information will be sent out by email later today. I apologize for the delay and look forward to working with everyone again soon.”

You practically ran out of there, making your way towards your production office when a hand caught your wrist and started to drag you along after them. You looked up, Jensen pulling your hat down over your face as you started to cry harder.

“Almost there,” he said, a trailer door opening. He locked it after himself and he set you down on his couch, kneeling down in front of you. “Hey. Hey. When they find a new lead-“

“It’s dead. After today, it’s never gonna happen. I know it’s just a stupid movie and it doesn’t matter-“

“It’s not a stupid movie. It’s yours. It’s not stupid,” said Jensen, wiping off your face and brushing his thumbs under your wet eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought you did great yesterday.”

“I can’t believe it was my dad who complained. He’s not supposed to hurt me,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “Why does everyone hurt me, Jens? What’s wrong with me? I’m so pathetic. We need to stop this before you find whatever it is that’s wrong too.”

“Hey,” he said, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m falling for you and I’m not leaving. There’s nothing wrong with you. I don’t know why your dad did that but I don’t think he wanted to hurt you.”

“Too fucking late,” you said. “I was so mad and...I just said something horrible to him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Jensen. “You’ll get past it, both of you will.”

“I can’t,” you said. “If it was anyone else...I was so proud of this stupid thing.”

“Honey,” said Jensen quietly. You shook and he sat up on the couch, pulling you to sit on his lap. “You’ll be okay. It’ll come back.”

“I’m sorry. Now you don’t have a job or a paycheck-”

“Y/N, stop freaking out. Don’t worry about the rest of us,” he said. You sighed into his chest and he ran a hand up and down your back for a few minutes until you’d calmed down.

“Thank you,” you mumbled eventually, Jensen kissing the top of your head. “Sorry I’m such a shitty girlfriend. This is supposed to be the fun part of the relationship.”

“I think the whole thing is supposed to be the fun part,” he said. You lifted your head up, a smile on his face making you feel a little better. “Despite what you may think, I’ve been having fun this whole time. Relationships and lives aren’t perfect. I don’t want a perfect one. That’s boring. I’ll take this and you, however that looks.”

“Okay, fanboy,” you said, taking a deep breath.

“There she is,” he said, smushing his cheek against yours, a bit of peace returning to you.

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder.

“No. Whatever happened in the past, you didn’t deserve that,” he said.

“I cheated on Logan,” you said. 

“He sounds like he definitely deserved it,” said Jensen.

“It was a hookup, guy I met at a bar. Nice guy but it’s all it was. I came home that night, back to my apartment with Logan and if I thought I’d seen him angry before, that was nothing,” you said. “I just wanted to be with a nice guy, someone kind, just for a minute.”

“You should be with a nice guy for a lot longer than a minute,” said Jensen. “I think you were justified to do what you did. Don’t feel bad over that.”

“I don’t. I regret it because that’s when it went from controlling to worse,” you said. “After a week of getting pushed around, I left but by then I was so beaten down and he’d fucked up my head and then my book got picked to become a movie. I was so happy, for the first time in over two years, I was happy,” you said. “I hung onto it too hard and that’s why it hurts so much to lose it.”

“You didn’t hang on too hard. I’m glad you found that thing to pull you out. It’s not the only thing you have to cling to though, Y/N. Not anymore,” he said. “You know that, right?”

“I’m not putting that on you.”

“Too late. It’s my job,” he said. You didn’t say anything and felt his chest rumble. “You have your family too.”

“No I don’t. I can never tell my siblings about Logan,” you said.

“What about your mom?”

“She loves dad, not me,” you said.

“That’s not true and you know it,” he said. “She’s your mom.”

“She wanted him, not me. She’ll pick him,” you mumbled.

“Is that what Logan told you?” he asked. You kept your mouth shut and Jensen sighed. “Don’t give that fuckface anymore control, Y/N. You’re not alone. You never were.”

“I can’t talk to them,” you said. “What if she got mad about him being late last night?”

“Y/N, stop spinning your wheels. I’ve met your parents and your dad is my friend. They love you. I’m sure he thought he was doing something to help,” he said.

“Yes, clearly it helped,” you said. 

“Why don’t I take you home?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said with a nod. “It’s not like I have to go back to work now.”

It was nighttime when you finally got an email from the production office. You tapped it open, frowning and quickly sitting up from the couch.

“What the fuck…” you said. You read the email about fifteen times before you were calling Mark and AJ. “Guys, did you read the email?”

“Yeah. I thought we were dead in the water. Apparently we’re just on a filming break until Monday while we figure out a plan for directing duties while you film scenes? Did you have some other kind of meeting we don’t know about?” asked Mark.

“No. This project was on hiatus last I knew,” you said.

“Unless someone higher up changed their mind, I don’t know how we caught this break,” said AJ. You stood up and went to your closet, grabbing a jacket. “Y/N?”

“I think I have an idea of what happened. Or who. I’ll see you guys at the office eight tomorrow morning? We can map everything out,” you said.

“Yeah, sounds good boss,” said AJ. “You okay? You ran out of there pretty quick today. We tried looking for you but you were gone.”

“I’m not sure yet,” you said. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

You hung up and called Jensen, his phone going to voicemail. You tried again and got the same thing. When you were about to redial a text came in from your dad.

Come over. Jensen’s here. We need to talk.

You stared at the phone and squeezed your eyes shut before you grabbed your keys and were gone.

_______

A/N: Read Part 13 here!

[shypotato-translations]

QTVW Chapter 2

Future* President's Fiancee (II)

----

After An Mu Lan met Ling Xihan, the expression on Father An’s face when he turned his head to look at her was three parts disgust and seven parts satisfaction

Father An's attitude changed all because she analyzed the plot and memories, took the initiative to talk to him these days, and made some changes in line with the original owner's character.

After her father told An Mu Lan about the marriage, she took the initiative to approach him that night, expressing her gratitude to him for 'raising her' and expressing her remorse for always confronting him in the past.

She said that she would change her ways, worried about her father and would help him.

This conversation improved the relationship between the two, which changed Father An's attitude towards her a little bit, and these days, she also had an advantageous benefit, as she received strong support from him financially.

The first thing she did after this was to respond positively to the marriage.

In the past few days she has been ordering girly clothes, taking the initiative to dress herself and making the often cold room look warm and sweet. Some of her actions were changed to suit her father's preferences, in accordance with her tutor's teaching.

She did all this to project a good and obedient image to set the stage for her next move.

Because of these factors, Father An’s attitude towards her was more satisfied and valued, she only heard him say,

"I have something to discuss with Ling Xihan, you go back to your room and pack your luggage first.”

A father's advice to his daughter is evident in his words.

An Mu Lan had learned about this from the original owner's memory, so she didn't show too much reaction to hearing this, but answered obediently,

"Yes, father."

She watched the two go upstairs to Father An's study. She had only just returned to her room, packing her bags and reminiscing about their first meeting.

The villain, Ling Xihan, has not been written much in the novel, and was chosen as the character for this mission because the system selected her based on the criteria for defining a villain - powerful, complex background, ruthless tactics, protagonist's aura, strong luck, entanglement with the hero and heroine, and many other factors, after a multi-level selection process.

In the original owner's memory, there were a few impressions of her, plus today's personal contact, which let Mu Lan know that the subject of this mission was a woman whose joy and anger were not visible, and it was hard to let anyone see her mind. As for the task of raiding her, An Mu Lan could only take one step at a time and act like this for the time being.

As mentioned in the plot, by this time, Father An had made the news of the marriage public.

The fact that Ling Xihan is the fiancée of the youngest daughter of the An family has been reported in all the major media. And mostly under the title 'A millennium-old family joins forces with a rising economic power'

It was because of this that Father An was so angry when the original owner and Ling Xihan broke off their marriage. Because it's not just about marrying his daughter, it's about uniting the interests of the family.

The current An Mu Lan naturally won't choose to break the marriage, and her move to Ling Xihan’s residence will make it easier for her to raid the villain.

She quickly finished packing her luggage and ordered the maid to carry it downstairs, then she sat quietly on the sofa in the living room with her hands folded in her lap, looking very serious as she read a book on women and women's marriage.

After waiting for about half an hour, the sound of two people talking came from a distance, An Mulan was the first to stand up and looked up the stairs, she saw Father An with a cheerful and satisfied expression, every now and then he glanced at Ling Xihan, in his eyes, there was satisfaction and regard for her.

When Father An walked into the living room, he warmly invited Ling Xihan to join him for lunch, he ordered the kitchen to prepare a big meal and told the butler to call all the young masters back for dinner. Then he turned his head, lowered his face to look at An Mu Lan and said to her,

"Let's have a meal before we go, and you take Ling Xihan to your room to rest a bit. Xihan, what do you think?"

The corners of Ling Xihan’s mouth curled, and her clear, cold voice was on the low side as she said,

"I will listen to you, father-in-law, and I would like to spend some quality time with Mu Lan."

Hearing this, Father An became even more satisfied with Ling Xihan, he gestured with his eyes to An Mu Lan, who immediately answered,

"President Ling, my room is over here, please follow me."

An Mu Lan leads Ling Xihan towards her room. When Ling Xihan walked into her bedroom, what caught her eyes was a princess room decorated in pink and girly colours, Ling Xihan swept her eyes across the room and looked at An Mulan with a slightly unexpected look in her eyes.

An Mu Lan smiled nonchalantly and said,

"President Ling, this is my room, please have a seat."

As she said that, she guided Ling Xihan to the sofa in front of the window and sat down, while she herself knelt on both knees on the cushion beside the low table and asked her with a tilted head,

"Does President Ling like to drink tea or coffee?"

Ling Xihan sat on the backlit sofa, unable to see her expression, and only her cool, emotionless voice could be heard, saying,

"Tea, just fine."

An Mu Lan nodded, making tea with a smooth hand, her long, thin fingers curving as she demonstrated the art of tea. Her look is warm and focused, full of the charm of an Eastern woman.

When the tea was brewed, she immediately poured a cup of tea and pushed it in front of Ling Xihan, saying to her,

"It's done, you can taste it."

She took a sip of the tea and then leaned over to take a look at the young girl in front of her.

An Mu Lan's cheeks reddened under her gaze, she pulled open the cupboard of the low table with soft eyebrows, took out a biscuit box from it, handed it to Ling Xihan and said in a soft voice,

"President Ling, these are the complementary desserts for tea, they taste delicious, would you like to try them?"

Ling Xihan nodded, although she wasn't interested, she made a rare move to be different in the face of such a girl who was to her liking. She took a biscuit and ate it, the sweet taste filled her mouth, she looked up at An Mulan and saw that she was looking at her with a smile, two deep dimples at the corners of her mouth, she looked extraordinarily good and pretty, pure and soft.

Ling Xihan's heart fluttered, she had always liked girls like this. She thought it was a temporary business alliance, a union of interests, but she never thought it would bring her such a big surprise. She looked at the girl's smile and just felt that the other girl was sweeter than the taste of a biscuit in her mouth.

Ling Xihan lowered her eyes and took a small sip from her tea, the white smoke obscuring her expression as she said,

"Miss An, you can call me Xihan, after all, we are in a fiancée relationship and, as you are about to live with me, we, will have a more intimate relationship."

After she finished, she put down her tea and sat up straight, the corners of her mouth curled up in a rather amusing smile, which added a bit of vividness and beauty to her cold face, and she looked exceptionally attractive.

An Mu Lan's heart jumped and her cheeks brushed red as she hastily admonished herself, she's the one who's going after the villain, not the villain who's going after her! Hold on! Don't fall for the villain's beautiful tricks!

As she warned herself, she shyly lowered her head, hiding the look in her eyes and making a not-so-shy face, but still speaking graciously and fluently,

"Xihan, you can call me Mu Lan, the Mu of a wood to the right of the three dots of water and the Lan of orchids."

Seeing her earnestly saying her name with an indescribable naivety and delicacy, Ling Xihan arched her eyebrows and called out,

"Mu Lan."

They were meeting for the first time, so naturally, most of the conversation revolved around An Mu Lan. When Ling Xihan brought up the topic a little, An Mulan had already revealed her own situation, all to Ling Xihan.

At noon, reminded by the housekeeper's knock on the door, An Mu Lan and Ling Xihan went to the living room for lunch.

There were dozens of exquisitely shaped dishes on the dining table, from here we could see how much Father An valued Ling Xihan, and it was the first time An Mulan saw the entire An family at the dining table.

Her four older brothers, the eldest and second are already working in companies, the third is studying art and is a well-known artist, and the fourth is still at university and goes to the same school as An Mu Lan.

All four are excellent, the eldest is austere, the second is graceful, the third is literate and gentle, and the fourth is dashing and unrestrained. Powerful characters in the maid's harem.

But now An Mu Lan looked at them as if these people were just NPCs on her way for revenge, part of a mission.

After lunch, Father An walked Ling Xihan to the entrance of the An residence, and naturally her four brothers accompanied him all the way.

An Mu Lan secretly surveyed their expressions, and saw that the eldest and the second had masks on their faces and were emotionless, while the third had a sad frown, and the fourth had raised eyebrows and was clearly angry.

An Mu Lan knew that the video of the maid and her four brothers, which had been uploaded to the campus website, had still had a partial impact on these people.

This gave her great satisfaction and it seemed that all she had done before had not been in vain.

After today, she will move in with Ling Xihan, the An family's wild storms are no longer too relevant to her, and the four brothers can't find out the truth, and in the end, they will only push this matter to their rivals. Even if they suspected her, they would take into account her performance these days, focusing on the marriage, and the lack of motive to clear her of suspicion of committing the crime.

An Mu Lan was in a good mood as she said goodbye to the An family and took a car to the other side of the city, to Lings Xihan's villa.

Ling Xihan now lives in a villa area on the outskirts of the city, and from its residence, it fits perfectly with her emerging president's status, which is unremarkably low-key.

Within this villa of hers, there are no servants or housekeepers. Because Ling Xihan is a person with a strong sense of privacy, she does not like others to come near her territory, so there is no sign of outsiders in this villa, except for the occasional assistant who comes over to take care of the rooms.

Ling Xihan took her inside the villa and arranged a room for An Mu Lan near her bedroom, explaining,

"This room is yours."

After that, she left the villa in a hurry.

An Mu Lan surveyed the room, which had taken two days to set up neatly, during which time Ling Xihan had been away on business and had not returned home.

When Ling Xihan had finished the business at hand, she returned home at night and opened the door to see, wearing a pink nightgown with an apron, An Mu Lan, carrying a plate of home-cooked food, walking out of the kitchen.

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Like A River Runs

Rating: G

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: ANGST CITY, POPULATION THIS FIC. discussions of death.

A/N: here’s something no one asked for. i’m sorry.

Joe cracked the door to your daughter’s bedroom, peeking inside to find Frankie still asleep on her stomach wrapped in her baby blue sheets. He snuck into her room, quietly taking a seat on the bed before running his hand up her back.

“Hey sleepyhead, time to get up,” he mumbled softly, not wanting to startle the little one. She stirred with a groan, before rolling over onto her back, rubbing at her eyes impatiently.

“Morning, daddy,” she whispered, voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning, short stuff,” he replied. “Do you know what today is?” The sleepy toddler shook her head. “It’s your momma’s birthday.”

Frankie perked up at Joe’s words. “Are we gonna go visit momma?” Joe chuckled at your daughter’s sudden alertness.

“As soon as you get yourself dressed, we’ll go see her!”

Frankie practically launched herself out of bed, scrambling to her dresser, earning a laugh from Joe who quickly got up to assist the four year old.

It had been a tradition since Frankie was born that the two of them visited you at work on your birthday. Frankie had only been a few months old when Joe showed up to your office with balloons and a cake, Frankie strapped to his chest giggling at all of the attention your coworkers gave her.

This year was no exception.

Once Frankie’s shoes were tied and her coat buttoned up, he got her strapped into her car seat and the two were off. The first stop was to the florist as Joe now knew you preferred flowers to balloons. Joe enlisted Frankie to help pick out ones she thought you would like the most, and once she was satisfied, Joe paid for the bouquet and set off to see you.

The parking lot was trickled with a few cars, the park apparently not particularly crowded on this late Tuesday morning. Joe helped Frankie out of her carseat before collecting your bouquet from the front seat. He held your daughter’s hand tightly as the two of them made their way to you.

They stopped at the stone that bore your name, both quiet for a moment.

“Happy birthday, momma,” Frankie said softly, breaking the silence. “We brought you flowers! I helped pick them out!” Joe felt the first tear fall, his heart clenching at how strong your daughter was despite being so young. He knew she got that from you.

Joe knelt down and placed the flowers on the patch of grass in front of your grave. He pulled Frankie tight to him, trembling as he tried to hold it together.

“Hey short stuff, why don’t you tell momma about the project you did in school last week?” Joe suggested, his voice shaking. Frankie launched into a detailed story about how she learned how to make slime in science class, all the while Joe tried like hell to not lose it.

It was another first. He’d already been through his first anniversary without you. Frankie’s first birthday without you. The first Christmas without you.

And how here he was, celebrating one of his favorite days of the year without you.

Frankie had long finished her story, turning to Joe to see his soft cries turning into quiet sobs. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around her father’s neck, and finally cried too. The pair held each other close as they worked through their grief together.

After a few minutes, Joe pulled away to wipe some of Frankie’s tears from her reddened cheeks.

“Hey baby, can I have some Mommy-Daddy time? Like last time?” The little one nodded, letting out a sniffle. “And then you can have some Mommy-Frankie time, okay?” She nodded again in understanding. Joe placed a kiss on her forehead before watching her turn and head over to the large oak tree, taking a seat on the bench beneath it.

Joe stood up and turned to you, his vision blurry from tears, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“Hello, my love,” he began, pausing for a moment to collect himself. “I wanted to make sure we kept your birthday tradition alive. We’re also gonna have your favorite for dinner, and then I picked up a red velvet cake for dessert.” Joe’s voice began to shake again as more tears threatened to fall.

“I miss you so much, baby,” he said, shaking his head. “But I see so much of you in Frankie. She has your spunk, your big heart, even your eye for color.” He managed a smile as he spoke fondly of your daughter.

“But more than anything, she is so strong. She’s been my rock. She’s kept me going these past few months.” He paused again, pushing through the pain to get his words out. “And I promise you...I am going to do whatever I can to make sure that every part of Frankie that reminds me of you…I’m going to help it grow. I’m going to make sure that this...wonderful child that we brought into this world, has the best life she possibly can. That’s my promise to you, baby.” Joe’s gaze shifted to the four year old who was patiently waiting on the bench, playing with the zipper of her coat.

“And I am going to tell her stories about you. About how we met and fell in love. About the things you used to do to make me laugh. And I’m gonna make sure she knows how much you loved her. How much I know you still love her. I promise--” Joe’s voice trailed off as he began to cry. He fell to his knees as his hands covered his face.

He felt a soft hand on his shoulder and he sighed into the touch, admiring how smart and observant your daughter was at her young age, knowing to rush to his side as he cried. But when he pulled his hands away from his face, Joe saw across the way Frankie still sat calmly on the wood bench. Joe’s head snapped towards the source of the touch, but he found nothing but the air around him, the sensation gone.

Joe’s brow furrowed. He could have sworn he had felt someone rest their hand on his shoulder. He turned back to you, wiping at his cheeks and trying to calm his breathing.

“I’m gonna let you have a moment alone with Frankie. But just remember that I love you, I will always love you, and you’ll be in my heart forever.”

Joe got to his feet, reaching down to dust off the dirt that had collected on his jeans. He waved over Frankie, who leaped off the bench and scampered over to him, instantly clinging to his thigh.

“Are you okay, daddy?” she asked timidly. Joe ran his fingers through his daughter’s hair and sighed.

“Not right now, but I will be,” he explained. “It’s okay to be not okay sometimes, you know.” Frankie pursed her lips as she absorbed her father’s words. After a moment she looked up at Joe.

“Can I talk to mommy by myself now? I have to tell her a secret,” Frankie announced. Joe smiled at the young one before leaning down to give her another peck on the forehead.

“I’ll be right over there if you need me,” Joe answered, gesturing towards the bench.

Joe settled on the old wooden bench, and he watched as Frankie plopped down cross-legged in the grass, her hands flailing as she dramatically told you a story, a trait she definitely inherited from Joe. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched her, feeling nothing but pride for the little girl she was growing into.

After a few more minutes, Frankie pulled herself onto the bench, crawling into Joe’s lap.

“You ready to head home, short stuff?” he asked, wrapping his arms around the small girl. She silently nodded, and Joe squeezed her tightly before scooping her up and carrying her to the car.

After getting Frankie settled into her seat, Joe let himself glance back at you one more time. One last tear streaked down his face as he climbed into the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

[sarcastic-sunshines]

Before Abiona Interlude Part 8: Meet the Parents Part 2

Pairing: T’ Challa x Black!Reader

Warning(s): None

Link to ABIONA by @aloevverified

Link to Face claims (2)

Previous Chapter: Interlude Part 7

A/N: It's been a minute since I've updated this story, and I still love it and have written quite a bit of it and just haven't shared. I'm gonna be posting the chapters I have done and updating my masterlist. I won't be tagging anyone but if you do find time read, I hope to hear what you think about it. As always, hope y'all are staying safe, and please go get vaccinated.

Meet the Parents Part 2

T’Challa checked his watch before turning back to the television. Alix had been getting ready for a long time. He was more than ready to head to dinner with his mother and Shuri. Alix as usual was taking her sweet time finding something to wear. It seemed to be taking a little longer today, and T’Challa knew it was the nerves. He finally got up and headed to the bedroom to find Alix on the floor in one of his T-shirts. He smiled a bit at the site but also knew that meant his closet had been raided and was probably a mess.

“Alixandre, may I ask why you are on the floor in my shirt while this room looks like a tornado has made a visit” Alix rolled her eyes before turning to look at him.

“I can’t find anything to wear”

“That is because your closet is a mess”

“No! It’s because nothing fits! I look like a beachball!” T’challa took a step back sensing her frustration.

“Okay, how about you and I work on this together?” he said, kneeling down to help her up.

“As much as sitting here sulking feels like the preferred option I cannot let you do that so how about we get up and find something that I know you will look amazing in. Plus I am looking with non-judgemental eyes”

“Fine” She reached down to grab a couple of the options she didn’t completely hate and dropped them on the bed next to where T’challa had decided to sit. She looked at him as though she was waiting for something.

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes I can’t change in front of you.” T’Challa rolled his eyes.

“Alix you can easily go to the bathroom, but to be honest there really isn’t anything I haven’t seen before,” He said with a smirk as Alix threw a piece of clothing at him.

“I don’t care. Close your eyes T’Challa” T’Challa continued to smile at how flustered she was becoming. “T’Challa now!”

“Okay, okay, okay” She slipped on the first look and faced him before tapping him to see.

“I think you look lovely, but you seem a little uncomfortable and the restaurant we are going to is a bit more formal.”

“I thought as much” She stared at T’Challa waiting for him to close his eyes

“Oh, right I forgot” She smiled softly before picking another dress and tapping T’Challa. He slowly opened his eyes and was immediately enamoured with Alix’s beauty.

“So are you going to just stare or are you going to say something” T’Challa blinked a few times before speaking

“Alix you look absolutely stunning. Just so much beauty that my words are lost” Alix smiled but looked away. “However, this is too formal. It is not a wedding, just dinner.”

She rolled her eyes, making T'Challa laugh as he closed his eyes.

“Okay, you can open now” T’Challa opened and smiled.

“I think we have a winner. You look gorgeous”

“You said that about every look,” Alix said, turning for T’Challa to help with the zipper while smoothing down her dress.

“And I was not lying, he said with a kiss on her shoulder. Plus you look comfortable in this one”

“Okay fashion critic, the show is over. Maybe you should start coming with me to the shop since you love everything” She joked

“I would be honoured. Now finish getting ready so we can go please.” T’Challa said before exiting the room. Leaving Alix to have to sit to gather her thoughts. She didn’t understand how someone could be so unintentionally sweet, yet it was one of her favourite qualities about T’Challa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alix peaked over at T’Challa as he drove, he looked calm, meanwhile, she felt like she was holding a huge breath that she wasn’t sure when she could release.

“So, I guess it is my turn to ask but is there anything about your mom or sister that I need to know that I don’t already” T’Challa glanced at her quickly and could feel the nervousness radiating off of Alix. He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“ Don’t worry, you will be fine. My mother is very sweet, and will only ask you questions to try and get to know you. As for Shuri” He smiled before continuing “You will love her, she is the funniest and smartest person I know. But do not tell her I said that. It makes her head big”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Alix joked as T’Challa laughed. “So your father, he couldn’t make it then?”

T’Challa grew quiet as he carefully thought about what to say.

“Baba had a meeting that he would not - I mean could not miss. That he could not miss“ T’Challa grew quiet as he tried to steady his face to avoid showing any of the pain that his father’s disapproval brought him. Alix looked over and grabbed his forearm in an attempt to comfort him.

“No one said merging worlds was easy right?”

T’Challa smiled at the contact before nodding in agreement. As they pulled up to the restaurant, Alix noticed some women in simple black dresses and shaven heads waiting outside. T’Challa opened the door for her, he nodded in the direction of the women, confirming Alix’s suspicions that they were Doras.

They entered the restaurant and the hostess immediately recognized T’Challa and led the two of them to the back of the restaurant, which was already fairly empty despite the time of the evening. Alix held on to T’Challa’s hand and said

“ I mean I knew you were important, but never did I imagine being in a near-empty restaurant that is being guarded by your nation's most powerful warriors”

“Does that scare you?” He said, slowing down and looking at Alix.

“No, but it is just a bit strange if anything. I forget this is what your normal life is like. And reminds me how much you keep it away from me and I will be getting more exposed to once the baby is here”

“I hope you know I will try my best to maintain your sense of normalcy and independence. But let's not worry about that until later okay” T’Challa finally turned back to the hostess who held a door open for them. Once they were in, a huge smile covered his face as he let go of Alix’s hand and walked over to Shuri who he greeted by doing their handshake.

“It took you long enough brother. I was starving.” T’Challa sarcastically rolled his eyes still smiling before going over to his mother and hugging her and kissing her cheek.

“Hello Mama, I am sorry for being late. Though I have a good reason and she is standing over there” T’Challa held his mother’s hand and guided her towards Alix who was trying to portray the normal level of confidence she usually possessed.

“Mama, Shuri, this is Alix Ajayi”

“It is lovely to meet you Queen Mother”

“It is nice to finally meet you too. I have heard so much about you” She said pulling Alix into a hug.

“Yes, brother literally never stops talking about you. Like ever” Shuri said before hugging Alix who quietly laughed as T’Challa struggled to hide his embarrassment.

“I have other matters I discuss”

“Yes, but your favourite is Alix and the baby.”

“Maybe we should all sit now,” Ramonda said as the siblings stopped their bickering. Alix took a seat next to T’Challa who casually placed his hand on her thigh. He had become more physical with her as time went on, but for some reason, she was letting her boundaries fall and couldn’t find it in her to do anything but enjoy it.

“Alix you look beautiful by the way. You are absolutely glowing” Ramonda complimented

“Yes, your outfit is amazing. The colour red looks lovely on you” Shuri continued

“Thank you both”

“So how far along are you now?”

“I am six and half months. More than halfway there” Alix replied smiling at T’Challa

“That’s less than three months. So am I having a niece or nephew because I have a few name suggestions for both” T’Challa decided to answer for Alix.

“Actually Shuri, we do not know. We are keeping it a surprise”

“Why?”

“Yes why Alix, I have been asking T’Challa for weeks and still nothing. I was telling him that I have some baby designs I would love to get started on”

“I know you all find out quite quickly, but I have just decided to wait and find out when the baby is here.”

“Plus either way we will love the baby, and its sex does not matter. And mama you can make clothes after I promise” T’Challa said knowing Alix did not feel like sharing her reasoning with anyone so he did not mind keeping his family out of the loop on this one. He was just happy that he was able to see the three most important women in his life sitting together. Food was brought out and everything seemed to be going well.

“Alix, do you have any siblings?” Shuri asked.

“ I actually have a younger brother. His name is Jules. He is really funny but has a big heart. We have a big age gap like you and T’Challa.”

“ Is he excited to be an uncle like Shuri here cannot wait to have the baby in her lab”

“I am hoping the baby will be as smart as me even though I am smarter than their Baba”

“I allow you to think you are smarter”

“Your designs and projects would beg to differ” Alix laughed at the exchange, it reminded her of Jules. She also loved how relaxed T’Challa was around his family, his smile appeared brighter

“ My designs and projects are just as good as yours little sister”

“Yet somehow remain archaic and lack swag”

“Shuri” Her mother warned as T’Challa smirked at his sister’s scolding. “Anyways, what about your parents Alix, how do they feel about this ?”

“They were both a bit apprehensive but they are now excited to be grandparents, especially maman. And she loves T’Challa. They are always gossiping to one another”

“Of course they are, Brother loves drama, but pretends he doesn’t”

“It is not pretending if it is true” All three women laughed at his statement knowing he was lying.

“Brother you know there is a new season of Golden City Housewives”

“Hmm, interesting” T’Challa said nonchalantly although everyone knew he was already scheduling time to watch it later.

“What about your father, how does he feel about everything?” Both T’Challa and Alix looked at each other trying to find the right words to describe Tolu’s disdain for T’Challa and his involvement in Alix’s life.

“Umm, he is coming around slowly”

“Well, at least he and Baba have something in common” Shuri said as she avoided her brother’s piercing eyes. “Anyways, I have to know, what in Bast name attracted you to my brother”

“Shuri!”

“What I need to know, she is dating him” T’Challa and Alix again turned to each other.

“Actually, we aren’t dating, right now just focused on bringing this little person into the world,” T’Challa responded as Shuri looked at them skeptically.

“You are kidding right”

“No we're not, your brother and I are taking this slow”

“Not with all that hand holding your not” Alix immediately let go of T’Challa’s hand. T’Challa looked a little hurt but wasn’t shocked by Alix’s reaction.

“Why don’t we get dessert and then Shuri and I can start heading home.” Everyone awkwardly agreed before calling the waitress over.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ride home did not lose its awkwardness and at home was not different. They got home late so Alix assumed they would just go to bed. But T’Challa never showed up. So she rolled out of bed and headed to the living room where only the light from the television was illuminating the room. She found T’Challa eating the cheesecake that he made the waitress pack for him, totally absorbed by whatever he was watching. She slowly approached him and he turned to look at her. He paused the tv before speaking.

“I thought you were sleeping”

“ No I was waiting for you but you never came” Alix took his plate to the kitchen and added a slice of cheesecake and another fork before coming back and sitting next to T’Challa. “What are you watching?”

“Golden City Housewives” Alix turned to look at him as he tried to hide his smile.

“You are so predictable sometimes”

“The housewives of Birnin Zana are much different from the Americans yet hold the same level of dramatics. It is good research. And I had to see whether Bugani ever confronted Akhona about not choosing her restaurant as the location for her gallery” Alix laughed as she took a bite and laid her head against his shoulder. T’Challa noticed and smiled, “Fair warning Alix, all this contact may cause the TV to think we are a couple” Alix lifted her head to face him

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like-”

“I didn’t feel anything. I wasn’t surprised. You do this quite often and that is okay. I wish you wouldn’t but I understand that is all confusing to you” He said in between bites.

“ And this isn’t for you?”

“I came here knowing I wanted to be with you Alixandre. My time here has only turned that want into a need. I am just waiting for you to join me. I don’t mind waiting” He said before turning back to the television, leaving Alix to take in his face and marvel at the man who made her question every move that she made while also allowing her to be as carefree as she pleased.

“ Your mother is very sweet, yet she has a serious aura about her. I can see where you get it from. “

“Mama can be serious when she wants yes, but she definitely is often my comfort. It has really helped me to have her on my side during all of this”

“ And your sister is a firecracker. She makes me laugh”

“Yes, I saw how hard you laughed when I was the bud of the joke.” Alix giggled “But yes, despite the age gap, she sometimes is my best friend.” T’Challa ended with a smile, “I think it went well though. Shuri told me she really likes you”

“And your mother”

“She said she understands why my father had so many headaches dealing with you and she admires your persistence and sense of self”

“Hmm I like that, you think the worlds are starting to merge?” she asked while putting down the plate and leaning back on his shoulder.

“They have definitely moved closer,” He said, kissing her hand before closing his fingers around hers. Alix smiled and kissed his shoulder in return. T'Challa started to feel like a need as well. She didn’t know how to feel about it but was happy T’Challa was willing to wait for her to figure it out.