#Ping sweep guide

[virtualizationhowto]

Nmap Ping Sweep: Home Lab Network Ping Scan

Nmap Ping Sweep: Home Lab Network Ping Scan @vexpert #vmwarecommunities #100daysofhomelab #homelab #Nmaptutorial #Networkscanning #Pingsweepguide #Nmapcommandexamples #HostdiscoverywithNmap #Networksecurity #NmaponKaliLinux #TCPSYNACKpackets #ICMPscanning

There is perhaps not a better known network scan tool for cybersecurity than Nmap. It is an excellent tool I have used for quite some time when you have a rogue device on a network and you want to understand what type of device it is. Nmap provides this functionality along with many others. Let’s look at the Nmap Ping Sweep and see how we can use it as a network vulnerability ping scan to…

[colibrie]

Confrontations-Double Down, part I

Art credit to the incredible @trilobitepunch

“We’re nearly home…”

Silence met his cautious words, and Mikey chanced glancing away from the shuttles view screen to take in his brother. Leo lay over one of the vehicles rear benches, long legs a messy sprawl and crossed wrists pressed tightly over his eyes. The mouth that so rarely lost its smile was pressed into a deep frown, a minimal improvement on the grimace it had been when Mikey had dumped him there in the scrambled haste to get them in the air and away.

It had not been the smoothest of exits. For all his many talents and interests, he would be the first to admit he knew very little about shuttles, and thus usually left the flying to Leo or their father. But he knew the basics, and a few small dents here and there seemed a small price to pay when every other breath from his prone brother seemed to come attached to a whimpered hiss of pain.

Those had died out too during the two-hour trip home, submitting to silence. This silence was not like the one on the moon, the one that had left his big brother an unrecognizable husk. This one was rare, but unpleasantly familiar, a heavy hush that clung to air like tar, obnoxiously smothering all it encountered.

It wasn’t often that Leo got angry, but the silence foretold a storm brewing behind those crossed wrists.

“Lee?” He tried again, voice wavering uncertainly as he clutched the controls, swallowing hard as the ground grew steadily closer. “I know you probably feel five different kinds of not great right now, but..uh…you remember the last time I tried landing the shuttle on my own, right?”

They still hadn’t removed all the scratches from along the underbelly of the ship.

His mouth went dry as an alarm chimed on the consul, the alert that said it was time to begin the landing sequence. Hands that were definitely not shaking hesitated over the control panel, a heart that was definitely not pounding skipping a few beats as the multitude of colorful switches and buttons became suddenly incomprehensible. Was…was he supposed to extend the landing gear? No, no that came after engaging the…what? The V-Tol! Which were next to the…the…

“This one first.”

Leo’s warm hand wrapped around his smaller one, guiding it to the correct switch while his other reached around to steady the hand still resting on the yoke. Mikey sagged, heart rate dropping back to a more acceptable rhythm as Leo’s chin came to gently rest on the top of his head.

It didn’t fix anything. The storm beyond the silence still loomed, simmering and churning. The events of the day still painted their skin in swirls of dusty bruises. But here, wrapped up in his brother’s embrace as Leo walked him through the landing procedure yet again, their home in clear view down a familiar winding path, things didn’t seem nearly so overwhelming. Panic took a few steps back, making some room for rational thought to start parsing out the cloud of “Omigosh,” and “What just happened?” that kept obscuring his thoughts.

“Easy. Keep her steady. Touch down in 3,2,1…”

 The shuttle bounced slightly as its struts met solid earth, the hull groaning and pinging softly as Mikey and Leo worked together to shut down the engine and run through the post flight checks. Leo’s arms disappeared as the back hatch whooshed open, replacing sterile ship air with the humid scents of swampy moss and sun warmed trees. Mikey slumped back in his seat and let relief sweep over him like a wave, tension unraveling from his limbs as he tried to crack his neck.

“Whew, home sweet home! Thanks for the save Leon…Leo?”

The pilot’s chair squeaked as he turned, expecting to feel the pressure of a teasing noogie or the warmth of an arm pulling him up. But neither came. The cabin was empty, and Leo’s form was rapidly disappearing down the path.

“Leo!”

Mikey threw himself out of the chair, scrambling to catch up to his elder brother’s longer strides.

“Leo, slow down!”

Leo did not slow down. He did not even pause to acknowledge Mikey as he stalked towards their house. The sun beat down, dappling their path with shadows, yet the atmosphere between them hung heavy as the storm gained speed. Dark clouds of emotion swirled and danced in Leo’s shadow, flickering, and snapping in the folds of his coat. His back and arms were ram rod straight, invisible currents of electricity barely held back by flesh and bone. Hands that had been so gentle on his only moments ago were now clenched into fists so tight that the knuckles on his skin had turned a pale green.

“Leo…what’s going on?” Mikey tried again, his own arms rising to hold himself in a hug as the barometric pressure of Leo’s emotions pulled dangerously at the residues of his own fear and confusion.

“Who were those guys? Why were they trying to kill us?! Why was the little one so upset with you? He said…. he said you promised him something?”

His questions finally seemed to hit home as Leo slowed, and Mikey took it as a sign to keep going. Not that he had much of a choice. Now that he had gotten his initial questions out words and feelings rushed together, bubbling past his lips like water from a fountain.

“Those armored guys didn’t just find us by accident, did they? They were looking for us. They know us. Or at least, they know you. And you know them too, don’t you? That’s why you froze up.”

Leo stopped. Frozen once more in the middle of the path, as though Mikeys words were some kind of mystic spell.

“C’mon LeeLee, talk to me,” he begged, keeping his voice feather soft and open around this oldest of childhood nicknames. His heart panged as Leo’s shoulders dropped, stark pain splitting through the storm like a flash of lightning. It was unusual for his brother’s true feelings to be so openly displayed; Mikey would not waste the opportunity.

“You don’t have to face this alone. I’m here. I may not know who they are… and I really don’t know how to explain this, but…it hurt to see them,” Mikey continued, shrinking in on himself a little at the mention of his own tangled emotions. “It felt…wrong. Everything about that was wrong. We shouldn’t have been fighting them and as much as I’m glad we got away its…like something is missing now. In here.”

He pointed to his chest, towards the dull pain that was slowly making itself known in the depths of his heart.

“Mikey…”

The return of Leo’s voice was a welcoming sign, but he did not let it sidetrack him.

“Tell me what is happening.”  

“I…It’s…”

“Ahem.”

Both boys jumped, shocked faces whipping up in tandem to stare at the diminutive form of their father, suddenly standing before of them on the path.

“H-hey dad!” Leo coughed, cheeks contorting awkwardly as he quickly pulled out his signature ‘Faceman’ smile. “How’s it going?”

“Would one of you care to explain where you have been all day?”

Mikey winced, slipping to stand slightly further behind Leo as his father tried to pin him with a piercing glare.

“We were on a supply run, remember? You asked me to go two days ago?” Leo swept in, shoulders casually shrugging to pull the focus back to him.

“I did indeed, Leonardo. Yet, curiously, I see no supplies. Only two sons, one of whom was supposed to stay home today, who look like they have been a brawl.”

“Ehehehe, what? Come on dad, does that sound like us?” Leo laughed, waving one hand through the air in airy dismissiveness. “The market was kinda light on the supplies we needed, and I wasn’t gonna waste our funds on substandard stuff. I’ll go back in a few days once the new shipments come in. As for the rest, it’s kinda a funny story actually. See there was this-”

“If its so hilarious,” Splinter cut in, “then I am sure Michelangelo would be delighted to tell me all about it.”

“M-me?” Mikey squeaked, fingers tapping and sweat breaking out across his brow as splinters beady eyes turned expectantly to him. “I-uh-well…”

“I am waiting to be amused,” his father prompted, deadpan gaze boring into Mikey as the pressure mounted.

“The thing is…we…we went to the market-”

“We established that.”

“Right! Right hahaha. Um, and then after that we, uh… we went…”

“Keep it together Mikey,” Leo mumbled under his breath, smile taking on a sharp edge as he shot a covert glare over his shoulder. “Remember what happens to snitches.”

“Do not interrupt!” Splinter snapped, tail whipping out to smack Leo’s side. Pain tightened the corners of Leo’s eyes, his breath hissing from between clenched teeth as the eldest fought to keep his posture normal. A fight easily noted by their father.

“Is that also part of the ‘funny story’?” Splinter demanded, an edge of concern creeping into his voice as he leaned in towards Leo.

“M-Maybe?” Mikey stuttered lamely, resolve crumbling under his father’s scowl and the renewed evidence of the day’s impacts. “We, uh, maybe took a slight detour on our way so that I could work on…stuff.”

“Mikey!”

“What kind of ‘stuff’”

“Um...f-force stuff?”

“Mikey, shut up!”

“And while we were there, completely minding our own business and not bothering anyone, these two guys showed up and then one of them started yelling at Leo about promises and the other tried to cut me into itty bitty pieces! And the first guy threw Leo into a wall and the whole building started coming down but we got out of there and we flew straight home and,um…that’s about everything.”

The sound of flesh meeting flesh was loud as Leo’s face met his palm.

“How many times,” Splinter started, arms waving and voice quickly growing in volume, “have I told you boys not to trifle with the force? How many times have I told you of the dangers that could befall us if you are recognized. You stole my holocron, didn’t you?! I knew I should have thrown that thing into a black hole when I had the chance!”

Mikey shrank back as their father’s angry rant continued, gaze shifting anxiously between his father and brother. Leo stood with his arms crossed, posture and facial expressions set in a carefully cultivated mask of disregard and boredom. He knew that look, it was one Leo wore when he didn’t want his true thoughts or feelings to be perceived, a near flawless fortress. Except for his eyes. Mikey had learned that Leo’s eyes were never as fully guarded as the rest of him, and right now his eyes were dark with the storm that surged and strained to get free. A storm that was now fully focused on their father.

“You two are never to do this again, do you hear me?! How long has it been going on?!”

“Jee, I don’t know pops,” Leo replied, voice flippantly cold and smooth in a way that sent shivers down Mikey’s spine. “How long were you going to lie to us?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Splinter growled, scowl deepening.

“Lee, don’t,” Mikey whispered, reaching out to grab his brother’s shoulder in an attempt to defuse the impending explosion, only to have his hand shrugged away as Leo turned to fully face their father.

“How long were you going to lie to us about Raph and Donnie being alive?”

Their father froze, shock obliterating all traces of anger as he stared at them.

“Wh-what?”

“Raphael and Donatello are alive,” Leo enunciated, lightning snapping between the vowels. “We weren’t caught by some random bounty hunters; we were caught by our brothers. Brothers with red lightsabers, dressed in black armor. Brothers you said were dead.”

“Wait…what?!” Mikey gasped, neck cracking as his head whipped between the opposing members of his family. “Those guys are…but…how?! They died years ago!”

“Great question Miguel,” Leo muttered darkly, “any thoughts, dad?”

“I…no, that… that is impossible,” Splinter stuttered, his hands shaking as one rose to cover his open mouth.

“That ‘impossible’ put me through a wall! Not into one, through it!” Leo snapped, taking a single step forward. “That ‘impossible’ tried its hardest to slice Mikey into ribbons! That-”

“Leo, stop!” Mikey commanded, flinching but standing firm as the ferocity in his brothers’ glare was momentarily diverted to him. “I get you are upset and confused. I am too. But if we want answers, let dad talk.”

For a long moment, nothing was said. Leo glared, defiant, and Mikey waited, face soft and expression gently pleading. Splinter watched, face grave as he waited for his sons to reach a verdict. Finally, Leo’s shoulder slumped, storm clouds contained once more as he crossed his arms and stepped back, silently facing their father with a brusque nod.

“Okay dad, start from the beginning,” Mikey encouraged, plastering on what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “What happened to Donnie and Raph to make you believe they were dead?”

Splinter sighed, bowing his head as his eyes unfocused, staring into the past.

[cleo-fox]

Excerpts

My focus is allllllll over the place and I’m pinging between different WIPs and I thought I’d share some excerpts in the hope that this will help me focus (idk, this plan is a bit shaky, but whatever). Feel free to send me asks about any of these if you are curious, or have a guess at which WIP they might be from. Each excerpt is from a separate work, 4 of the 5 are the same pairing.

Work 1

They call him Silvertongue—you’ve heard the jokes, you’ve rolled your eyes at all of them. But as he kisses you, you realize that there’s an element of truth there because only seconds in and you’re ready to sign away your soul to live under the power of Loki’s tongue. The slow, warm slide of it against yours, the way he guides your mouth against his, the way he lets out a soft sigh as he tastes you—you would give up everything if it meant you could stay like this.

Work 2

It’s all physical—your conversations are limited to the mundane or the utterly filthy. It’s no surprise that Loki has a gift for talking dirty and you wish that it didn’t work as well as it does. You wish that—for example—it were a little more challenging for him to talk you into letting him get you off in the limo on your way to a gala event hosted by the Swedish government.

Work 3

His tongue sweeps past your lips, seeking out yours, demanding and hungry. Your response is reflexive and instinctive, your lips parting, tongue meeting his. You return his kiss, even though you’re still a little mad at him and he’s maybe still a little mad at you. But his mouth loses that hard edge as you kiss him back, his touch turning softer, more tender, but still urgent and wanting.

Work 4

It is a truth universally acknowledged that if one accidentally doses herself with an aphrodisiac, the person that she would least like to see is the colleague who is effectively the personification of sex.

Work 5

There is no getting around it: Loki is a pro at eating pussy.

It would be easier if he wasn’t, you find yourself thinking somewhere in the haze between orgasms. If he were mediocre, it would make it so much easier to be angry at him, to resent your current situation. This is not to say that you’ve abandoned your anger at all—you are still mad. But your anger feels so much less effective when he’s spent a solid ninety minutes with his head between your legs and you’ve lost track of the number of times he’s made you come.

[theofficersacademy]

Nel Griss Poe Corrin (M) Eldigan Edelgard Lapis Freyja Ivy Lilina

WEEK THREE - August 18th - August 24th

Tag - #SVIlia2023

The village of Reval was supposed to be a sleepy village where people meandered about their lives. If you moved all the way out here, it was because you wanted - or needed - to get away. People mostly minded their own business,

yet community blossomed slowly but surely all the same, for humans are creatures wont to look for somewhere to belong.

This family threatens now to fracture, and violently at that.

The problem? Most of you are part of that family now.

What you know

Ilians don't like the thought of dragons. You've found a dragon. Brynn is confused about the rumours that more of his kin have surfaced. He's been alone a long time.

Lysander is the wealthy owner of Reval, and appears to have bailed out the village after its having fallen on hard times. To him, it's a long-term investment. Also, he is purportedly the one who created the tomes some of you have purchased.

Time slips away from you rather suddenly. Some of you have been exploring for a small eternity. Others have been in the village so long now that you've become part of the family. You're not sure when this happened.

Corrin, Lapis, and Lilina sport simple garb, warm but nothing too fancy - quite similar to what the villagers in Reval wear. Eldigan's donned a set of monk's robes in St. Elimine's fashion, same as Weiss'. Edelgard and Ivy look set to be in command, heavy councillors' robes sweeping the floor. Nel and Poe suit up in a warmer version of Sacae's swordsmen. Griss... Griss looks pretty normal, actually. And as for Freyja, she is trapped in her goat form, and feared by all. She is, however, still family.

The world looks, feels different than how you remember it. It's not as colourful as you remember. You get the impression it's been slowly shifting ever since you arrived, but perhaps it had been too subtle to realize until now.

How much time has passed since you were shipwrecked? A moment ago you might have thought it a mere couple of days, but now it feels like it's been forever.

Villagers continue to go missing all the while. Up until now, you've been lucky enough not to number among them. More people have been whisked away overnight than has ever been recorded prior: the yet injured Lapis and Canna have been vanished, alongside Karev, Nel, Cain, and Eldigan. There does not appear to be any of that strange dust left behind where last they were seen, at least. Poe, Griss, and Ivy haven't been seen in town for... some time now.

What to do

Poppy and Dehlia are absolutely super duper fretting about the third member of their Pegasus Knight Trio being missing, and intend to head out to search immediately.

Lysander remains at the tavern, ever cool as a cucumber - though if you ask him, of course he's worried. What on earth is happening? Can he hire you to look into it? He'll send his dear sister, Weiss, as a guide with you if so.

The mines that were said to be abandoned (and condemned besides) do appear to be rather empty so far - save for a certain Hunter's log alongside a curious sphere. Only one way to find out what else awaits within these caverns.

Karev, Nel, Lapis, and Eldigan awaken to find themselves bound, two each to a cell. It's cold, but not as bad as being outside, one presumes. You feel a bit sluggish. Last night is a blur. Last week, month, year is a blur. What exactly happened...?

You’re not limited to the above. Anything else you’d like to explore, feel free to ping Mod Key. What would your muse do?

[avilalighthouse]

A Coastal Escape: Uncover the Best Things to Do in Avila Beach

Tucked between the rolling hills of California’s Central Coast and the sparkling Pacific Ocean, Avila Beach is a hidden gem waiting to be explored. Whether you're craving ocean adventures, wine tasting, or peaceful time on the sand, there are countless things to do in Avila Beach for travelers of all kinds.

At the heart of it all is Avila Lighthouse Suites—a beachfront all-suite hotel that puts you just steps away from the area's most captivating experiences. If you're wondering what to do in Avila Beach, let this guide be your go-to for planning your next coastal getaway.

Wake Up to Waves and Start Exploring

One of the best parts of staying at Avila Lighthouse Suites is how effortless it is to enjoy Avila Beach activities right outside your door. Begin your day with a peaceful stroll along the beach, or watch the sunrise from your private balcony as the waves roll in.

Once you're ready to venture out, the local area delivers on everything from active adventures to relaxing retreats.

1. Stroll the Avila Beach Promenade

Just steps from the hotel, the Avila Beach Promenade is a charming stretch of shops, cafes, and coastal energy. Grab a coffee and browse boutique stores, pick up beachwear, or stop into local galleries for a taste of the area’s creative spirit. It’s also the perfect spot for a sunset photo or a relaxing afternoon people-watching.

2. Soak in the Central Coast Wine Scene

If you're a wine lover, Avila Beach is your paradise. Nearby tasting rooms and scenic vineyards showcase some of California’s finest varietals. Sip and swirl your way through downtown wine lounges or take a short drive into the hills to explore estate wineries with sweeping views. The hotel staff can even help recommend the best stops based on your palate.

3. Hike the Bob Jones Trail

Outdoor enthusiasts love the Bob Jones City to Sea Trail, which runs from Avila Hot Springs to the beachfront. This scenic, paved path is ideal for biking, jogging, or walking, and it’s surrounded by oak trees, creeks, and rolling hills. Whether you’re looking to get some fresh air or snap a few nature shots, this trail is a must on any list of Avila Beach attractions.

4. Relax at the Beach or By the Pool

Of course, no trip to Avila Beach is complete without some time on the sand. Bring a book, dip your toes in the ocean, or try paddleboarding if you're feeling adventurous. Prefer to stay poolside? The oceanfront pool and hot tub at Avila Lighthouse Suites offer a relaxing alternative with front-row views of the waves.

5. Rejuvenate at Avila Hot Springs

If deep relaxation is what you're after, a visit to Avila Hot Springs is a no-brainer. Just minutes from the hotel, this natural mineral hot spring offers soaking pools and family-friendly fun. It’s the perfect way to unwind after a day of exploring.

6. Explore the Sea with Kayak or Paddleboard Rentals

For a unique perspective on Avila Beach, rent a kayak or paddleboard and head out on the water. Paddle alongside sea otters, sea lions, and maybe even dolphins if you're lucky. Equipment rentals are available nearby, and it’s a fun and beginner-friendly way to experience the coast.

7. Savor Local Seafood and Coastal Cuisine

You’ll find a variety of casual cafes and fine dining options throughout Avila Beach. Many restaurants source fresh, local ingredients and offer patio seating with ocean views. Don’t miss the chance to try a bowl of clam chowder or grilled catch-of-the-day right by the shore.

Stay Where the Adventure Begins

With so many things to do in Avila Beach, choosing the right place to stay makes all the difference—and that’s where Avila Lighthouse Suites shines. This oceanfront hotel offers more than just a room—it offers an experience. From on-site games like life-size checkers and ping-pong to a peaceful pool deck and curated local tips from staff, you’re set up for the perfect mix of rest and play.

Each suite features bright, beach-inspired décor, separate living areas, and private patios or balconies to enjoy the fresh ocean breeze. Whether you're traveling with family, your partner, or a group of friends, the space and setting create an inviting home base for all your adventures.

Plan Your Coastal Getaway Today

So if you’re searching for Avila Beach activities, wondering what to do in Avila Beach, or trying to find the best Avila Beach attractions—look no further. From stunning nature trails and wine tasting to beach days and boutique shopping, there's truly something for everyone.

And with Avila Lighthouse Suites at the center of it all, your ideal Central Coast escape is just a few clicks away.

📍 Book Your Stay Now and let your adventure in Avila Beach begin!

[rowancampbell]

Achieve Dominance in mobile legends game with Battle Tested Approaches

Achieving dominance in mobile legends game starts with battle‑tested approaches tailored to your squad’s strengths. Identify reliable early‑game heroes that secure lanes and snowball leads, then transition into powerful mid‑game compositions. Prioritize consistent communication and objective prioritization, leveraging Turtle and Lord to tilt power spikes in your favor. For detailed breakdowns of meta‑defining team comps and timing windows, Click here (کلیک کنید) to access curated guides from top tier analysts that ensure your squad executes time‑proven strategies with pinpoint accuracy.

Adaptive drafting strategies cement dominance in mobile legends game, enabling you to counter popular metas before they emerge. Research hero win rates and synergy trends to craft flexible bans and picks. Embrace off‑meta counters that disrupt enemy comfort zones and force reactive play. Pre‑game, review opposing team tendencies to anticipate drafts and secure priority picks. To elevate your drafting prowess with live‑update tier lists and counter‑pick matrices, Click here (کلیک کنید) and arm your team with the intel needed to dominate the pick‑ban phase every match.

Precise wave manipulation and lane control are battle‑tested approaches that carve out substantial leads in mobile legends game. Practice freezing, slow‑pushing, and fast‑clearing waves to freeze opponents under turret or pressure their defenses. Sustain these tactics while rotating for vision and ganks, maximizing resource denial. When you consistently out‑farm and out‑rotate foes, your team’s dominance becomes inevitable. Dive into advanced wave‑management modules and in‑depth tutorials by clicking here (کلیک کنید) to refine these essential skills and secure lane superiority.

High‑impact teamfight execution is the ultimate test of battle‑tested approaches in mobile legends game. Master timing of crowd‑control chains, target focus, and peel sequences to maximize fight outcomes. Drill initiation signals and ultimate combos in coordinated scrims to build intuitive synergy. Recognizing when to disengage is just as critical as engaging. For comprehensive playbooks that dissect professional teamfight footage and reveal winning engagement patterns, Click here (کلیک کنید) and equip your squad with the tactical blueprints needed for decisive clashes.

Vision dominance underpins every successful approach in mobile legends game by dictating information flow. Establish sweeping control over key regions—Dragon pit, buff camps, and jungle chokepoints—using wards and vision‑clear items. Combine this with rotational rehearsals to ensure your team capitalizes on revealed enemy positions. Missed map cues lead to lost objectives; proactive vision ensures you anticipate threats and enforce favorable fights. Unlock pro‑level vision maps and timing guides by clicking here (کلیک کنید), and transform your vision game into an unbreakable strategic asset.

Efficient communication protocols drive execution of battle‑tested approaches in mobile legends game. Implement predefined ping patterns for ganks, retreats, and objective calls to eliminate ambiguity during high‑intensity moments. Designate shot‑calling responsibilities based on role expertise—jungle for objective timing, solo‑lane for split‑push calls, and support for vision oversight. To incorporate structured communication playbooks and drill exercises into your training, Click here (کلیک کنید) and equip your team with frameworks that optimize clarity, responsiveness, and in‑match decision‑making.

Continuous adaptation cements lasting dominance in mobile legends game with battle‑tested approaches. After each match, conduct swift but thorough reviews of critical engagements, macro decisions, and objective control. Identify patterns in enemy counterplay and tweak your strategies accordingly. Engage in regular meta‑monitoring to integrate emerging hero power spikes and new patch dynamics. For streamlined post‑match analysis templates and meta‑tracking dashboards, Click here (کلیک کنید) and ensure your team evolves faster than the competitive landscape, securing sustained supremacy over every challenger.

[jo3ydr3w]

Take this story based on a WEIRD dream we just had while taking a nap.

💙

The gas station was nearly empty, its fluorescent lights buzzing against the thick silence of the night. Officer Michelle Carter stood by her cruiser, watching the young man fumbling at the counter. He couldn’t have been more than 18, his hands trembling as he searched his pockets.

“You need help?” she asked, stepping closer.

The young man looked up, startled. “I… I just need my mom. She was supposed to meet me here. I can’t pay for this without her.”

Michelle glanced at the weary clerk behind the counter, who gave her a shrug that said this wasn’t his problem.

“Alright,” Michelle said, her tone softening. “Why don’t you hang with me until she shows up?”

The boy nodded, his relief palpable. But something about him felt off—the way his eyes darted to the door every few seconds, as if expecting someone or something. Michelle guided him to sit on a bench outside the station, her gaze sweeping the empty parking lot.

Moments later, a beat-up van rolled into the lot, its engine coughing. A man in a greasy hoodie leaned out the window, his voice slick as oil. “Hey, kid, need a ride?”

The boy shrank back, shaking his head. Michelle stepped forward, hand resting on her holstered weapon. “Move along,” she said firmly.

The man’s grin faltered, and the van crept away into the night.

Michelle didn’t know why she agreed to help the boy search for his mom, but something about him gnawed at her. Along the way, they encountered two more kids: a wiry 14-year-old named Jake, who was desperately searching for his missing friend Ian, and a quiet 16-year-old with shadows under his eyes. Jake’s sweater hung loosely around him, but when the fabric shifted, Michelle caught a glimpse of a strange, jagged bite mark on his side.

Jake stole her car keys at one point, insisting on driving to a nearby forest where he claimed Ian was last seen. Michelle let him—mostly out of morbid curiosity. Sure enough, they spotted a boy matching Ian’s description by the tree line.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Ian said, his voice distant and hollow. “I’m just… working through some stuff.”

Jake seemed reluctant but finally relented, and they all piled back into the cruiser. On the drive back, Michelle tried to pry more details out of the 16-year-old, but his answers were vague.

“I’m staying with a doctor right now,” he said flatly. “It’s better than living with my parents.”

She dropped the kids off at their supposed homes, noting uneasily that no adults came out to greet them.

Later, Michelle brought the 18-year-old to a nearby library to use the free Wi-Fi. She wanted to check the news—a nagging thought told her to dig deeper into these kids’ stories. What she found turned her blood cold.

Ian had been reported missing weeks ago, last seen being lured into a van. Jake had disappeared shortly after, his remains discovered in the woods, partially devoured by coyotes. The 16-year-old had made headlines for murdering his mother and hiding out with an unsuspecting family doctor. And the 18-year-old? He and his mother had vanished one night, their car last pinged three states away before disappearing completely.

“I know what really happened,” the 18-year-old said suddenly, his voice startling her from her thoughts.

Michelle turned to him, but before she could respond, he was gone. She looked around wildly, her heart hammering. Security footage from the library revealed nothing—there had been no one with her.

“I thought I was going crazy,” Michelle told her therapist, her hands gripping the armrests of the chair. “I turned myself in to the station, thinking I’d lost my mind.”

The therapist nodded, scribbling notes. “You’ve done your research on these cases since, correct?”

Michelle nodded, her voice shaking. “Ian was found dead in that forest where I thought I saw him. Jake… there was nothing left of him but a torn sweater with a bite mark. The 16-year-old was arrested at the doctor’s house. And the 18-year-old and his mother? They vanished without a trace.”

The therapist frowned. “You speak as if you weren’t aware of these cases before your encounters.”

“I wasn’t,” Michelle whispered. “But I saw them. I talked to them.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air.

“Then how did you see them?” the therapist asked softly.

Michelle’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know.”

[pickleballbynova]

Pickleball Tourism: Discovering the World's Best Destinations for Enthusiasts

Introduction:

Pickleball, a sport that ingeniously combines elements of tennis, badminton, and ping-pong, has not just been a game-changer in the world of sports but is also reshaping the travel and tourism industry. Coined as 'Pickleball Tourism,' this emerging trend is captivating the hearts of enthusiasts who are keen to explore the world, paddles in hand. As the sport rapidly grows in popularity, it's becoming a significant aspect of travel and leisure, with destinations worldwide racing to accommodate the demands of pickleball aficionados.

The Rise of Pickleball Tourism

Pickleball's surge in popularity is undeniable. It's not just a sport; it's a social phenomenon, inviting players of all ages and skill levels to join in. Resorts, cities, and communities are recognizing this trend and are swiftly incorporating pickleball courts and facilities into their amenities. From luxury resorts offering state-of-the-art courts to public parks hosting community games, pickleball is becoming a staple in recreational offerings, beckoning tourists far and wide.

Top Global Destinations for Pickleball Enthusiasts

This section will traverse the globe, pinpointing destinations that are celebrated for their pickleball facilities and vibrant communities. You'll learn about places where the courts are as breathtaking as the scenery and where local pickleball culture and events add an extra layer of excitement to your travels. Each destination will be showcased with insights into its pickleball community, facilities, and any notable events or tournaments, offering a comprehensive guide for the pickleball enthusiast.

Pickleball Retreats and Clinics

Imagine combining the relaxation of a vacation with the thrill of improving your pickleball game. This section will highlight destinations that offer specialized pickleball retreats and clinics, providing an in-depth look at the benefits of attending these programs. From expert coaching to playing in stunning locales, pickleball retreats and clinics are perfect for those looking to elevate their game while enjoying a vacation.

Community and Culture: More than a Game

Pickleball is more than a sport; it's a community builder. This section will explore the social aspect of pickleball, sharing stories and interviews from locals and travelers about their experiences with the sport. It will delve into how pickleball is connecting people across different cultures and backgrounds, creating a global community bound by a shared love for the game.

Planning Your Pickleball Vacation

This practical guide will offer tips on planning the perfect pickleball vacation. From choosing the best times to visit and identifying resorts with the best facilities to packing the right gear, this section will ensure your pickleball vacation is both enjoyable and hassle-free.

Future of Pickleball Tourism

As pickleball continues to sweep across the globe, what does the future hold for pickleball tourism? This speculative section will discuss potential future trends in pickleball travel and how destinations can leverage this growing phenomenon. From eco-friendly pickleball resorts to international tournaments, the possibilities are endless.

Conclusion:

Pickleball tourism offers an enticing blend of sport, travel, and community. This article will recap the appeal of planning a vacation around pickleball and encourage readers to consider this unique theme for their next trip.

[august-bleeds-red]

Tag Team

In which the AFAB!Reader discovers what Bo and Vincent can achieve when they work together.

Dedicated to the fabulous @quiveringdeer for being my sounding board and general awesome human, and to the absurdly talented @thesightstoshowyou for igniting my love for these boys with her phenomenal writing!  ❤️ NSFW under the line.  

You know you’ve been in the Sinclair household too long when you can identify the person behind you by how they grab your ass.

 “Bo,” you sigh, glancing over your shoulder at the smug bastard smirking at you. You’ve been cleaning almost all afternoon, sweeping and scrubbing under the kitchen units, and the stove is your final task before you allow yourself some rest. “Really? Right now?”

 “Hell yeah right now,” he chuckles, smoothing a large hand over your jeans-clad ass cheek. “You’re puttin’ on too much of a show here for me to wait, darlin’.”

 Setting down the dishrag you’ve been scrubbing the stovetop with, you wipe your hands on the ratty old T-shirt you’re wearing and turn to face him. You can’t lie – even after all these months, he’s still more than a little intimidating to you. Six-foot-one of sinewy red-blooded Louisiana male, leering down at you like a fox cornering a baby rabbit.

 “Now, what made you think I was interested in seein’ your face?” he says, gripping your hips and swivelling you back round to face the stove. He’s undoing the button on your jeans when a shadow falls across you from the doorway. You both turn to see Vincent staring at the two of you. He’s dressed casually, meaning in clothes that aren’t caked in wax, his long hair pulled back in a messy ponytail at his neck.

 “Little busy here,” Bo warns.

 Vincent looks to your face, already flushed with expectant arousal.

 It’s my turn, he signs.

 “Fuck off it’s your turn,” Bo snorts. “Go on, get.”

 But Vincent’s not budging this time. Three long strides and he has his hands on you, jerking you from Bo’s grip and pinning you to his chest.

 “The fuck?” Bo looks genuinely annoyed now. “Y’think you can just barge in here and blue-balls me?”

 You groan in exasperation. Usually this kind of She’s Mine play would have you feeling hot under the collar, but it’s been a long day. “Look, one or both of you just do it or let me get back to work, okay?”

 A thread of silent communication seems to pass between the twins, and Bo’s lip curls mischievously. “You want front or back?” he asks.

 Vincent holds his hand out flat in front of his face and moves it downwards to his chin.

 Bo shrugs. “Fine by me.”

 Before you can so much as question what’s happening, Vincent hauls you up and over his shoulder, carrying you like a sack of potatoes to the ancient shag-pile rug in front of the TV. Setting you down, he quickly pulls off your T-shirt while Bo tugs at your jeans. You step out of them almost automatically, the cogs in your weary brain piecing together what’s about to happen. Forcing you to your knees, the brothers both unbuckle their belts.

 “Eldest first,” Bo grins, grabbing a fistful of your hair and guiding you to his waiting erection. Your mouth opens automatically and you take him inside, bracing yourself against his thighs as he drags you back and forth along his length.

 “Ahh yeah, that’s it, baby.”

 Knowing what’s expected of you, you scramble blindly for Vincent, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking it. He lets out a rasping moan and thrusts into your loose grip. Bo allows you to break free and you turn your attentions to Vincent, sucking on him until he’s rock hard against your tongue. You’re vaguely aware of Bo rummaging for something in a nearby drawer, and when your eyes focus on the blue bottle he unearths you realise “front or back” was not referring to Vincent in your mouth and Bo in your pussy.

 “Wait—” You try to pull away, try to stand, but Vincent already has a hold of you.

 With a strength that always manages to surprise you, he drags you down to straddle his hips, one hand already on his cock, nudging the tip at your slit. Despite your disquiet at the way Bo is approaching leisurely from behind, you can’t stop the moan that falls from your lips as you’re impaled on Vincent’s impressive girth. He may be the quieter of the twins, but he’s by no means merciful – not with his victims, and not with your body. You thank stars for the natural lubrication of your arousal that allows him to penetrate with little resistance, the sting of the stretch lasting only a moment before the warmth of pleasure blankets you. Vincent’s hands settle on your waist, easing you slowly – but firmly – down, until your thighs meet his hips. You unconsciously push upwards as he lifts you, chasing that spark of bliss that curls through your lower belly. Vincent’s thumbs paint patterns in your skin, hips thrusting to meet your downward strokes. You cry out, palms flat against his chest, the muscles in your legs burning with the effort to keep elevated.  

 “Room for one more?” Bo’s liquor-smooth voice murmurs in your ear, and you feel the straps of your bra ping loose. Throwing the offending undergarment aside, Bo cups your breasts and squeezes hard. You gasp and he claps one hand across your mouth, slipping two thick fingers inside. You taste traces of engine oil and tobacco, the smoky-sweet scent you’ve come to associate with him. Combined with the aroma of wax and clay that clings to Vincent, you’re deliciously trapped in a cloying fog of aphrodesia.

 Releasing your mouth, Bo’s hand traces the curve of your spine, pressing between your shoulder-blades to force you into a more accessible position. Your heart pounds and you glance anxiously over your shoulder at him. His eyes glint wickedly back at you, one hand stroking his cock with obvious intent.

 “Bo,” you whisper. “Please. . .”

 “Please what, baby-doll?” he purrs.

 “Don’t hurt me.”

 “Now why would I do a terrible thing like that?”

 He rubs the tip of one finger, wet from your mouth, against your rear hole; Vincent slows his thrusts to a slow, crawling pace, just enough to keep the fire lit. You squirm as Bo’s digit pushes past the tight ring of muscle, the intrusion not big enough to hurt, but enough to feel unusual. When he adds a second finger, however, you flinch.

 “Aw, too much?” You can hear the gleeful grin in his voice. Pushing both fingers in to the second knuckle, he splits them into a V, stretching you in preparation. You guess you should be thankful he’s giving any at all. You feel strangely empty when he pulls them out, but only for the briefest moment before you feel something bigger take their place. Vincent falls still as a figurine, his one sky-blue eye watching your face intently. Reaching between your bodies, he rubs the fore and middle fingers of one hand against your clit, sending a hum of pleasure murmuring through you to counteract what’s happening behind.

 “Oh fuck, baby,” Bo grits his teeth as his cockhead disappears inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight.”

 By the time he’s fully sheathed, you’re trying to remember your name. You’ve never felt so full as you do now, you would go so far as to say . . . complete. Vincent drinks in your kaleidoscope of expressions like a man dying of thirst; the holy sequence of pain and pleasure that crosses your face more beautiful than any art he could create alone. He gives an experimental thrust and you see Heaven. When the brothers begin moving together, you can just barely cling to your sanity. The warm, soothing ecstasy from Vincent integrated with the sharp, gratifying pain being served to you by Bo takes you to a new plane of experience.

 “Y’like that, huh?” Bo threads his fingers through your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck. “Y’like being stuffed like a little slut?”

 “Nng . . . uhh . . .” Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.

 “Say it,” Bo licks a long stripe up the side of your neck. “Tell us what you are.”

 “I-I . . .” the tempo of the two of them inside you sends lights popping before your eyes. “I’m— I’m a slut.”

 “And who owns your pretty little pussy?” He deals a sharp slap across your ass cheek. “Who does this ass belong to?”

 “You!” You’re almost sobbing, your pleasure rising within you like the sun. “Oh God, Bo . . . Vince . . .”

 Bo quickens pace, hips smacking into your ass with ruthless force, and Vincent hand is almost vibrating with the speed at which he’s massaging your clit. Your combined gasps and moans rise in harmony, Bo turning the air blue with lustful curses.

 “Oh god, oh fuck,” you whimper, white heat radiating upwards through your body from where you’re connected. “I’m— I’m gonna cum . . .”

 “That’s it, baby,” Bo grunts, his thrusts evolving into mindless snaps of his hips, jerking so sharply you wonder if you’ll have bruises there tomorrow. “You’re gonna be drippin’ with cum after this. Gonna fill you so fuckin’ full.”

 Your scream must echo to the church when you finally finish, your inner walls pulsating against Vincent’s cock and drawing his own orgasm from him. The warmth of his seed fills you, spilling down your thighs.

 “Gonna cum in your ass,” Bo’s breathing is ragged, you can tell he’s close. “Gonna fuckin’—”

 The sensation of cum shooting deep into your ass is an interesting one, but the wild howl of ecstasy that emits from Bo more than makes up for it. Both brothers are twisted, broken, often cruel, but God if they don’t give you pleasure the like of which you’ve never known; or likely ever will again.

 You collapse onto Vincent’s chest as Bo pulls out of you, unable to keep your balance any longer. Vincent’s softening cock is still inside you, twitching occasionally when you move. Bo staggers to his feet and cups your jaw in his palm, claiming a feral kiss from your dry lips.

 “You’re ours, Y/N,” he says.

 “Yours . . .” you nod dazedly. You think you might pass out.

 Both of you glance down at Vincent. It’s not often that he speaks, but the monosyllabic moments he does are always worth the effort. Lifting his wax mask from his face, he gives his own interpretation of Bo’s signature smug grin.

 “Ours.”

[kikilefangirl]

Owed

Steve Rogers x Reader

(Word Count: 1377)

(Found this gif on Google images, so credit to whoever made it)

“Right this way, Miss.” 

You followed the security guard through the gala’s main entrance hall. 

Adorned with sparkling jewelry all through your hair, and matching diamond and ruby necklace and ring set, you were a vision in red. Your form fitting, crimson gown had a wide side slit, offset by your black velvet gloves. 

Eyes were drawn to you as you all but glided across the room. The chandelier bathed your brown skin in a warm glow. On your first sweep you spied three generals, quite a few senators, and a room full of dutiful donors and their plus ones. Not one journalist. 

“We need exactly forty-six minutes and eighteen seconds,” Mo, a crew member of yours, told you over comms. If they needed it, you’d get it. 

“Alright, just get it done.” You replied under your breath. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Mo responded and the line cut out. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and took a sip. 

“Care for a dance, doll?” 

You were getting sloppy on the job. You had to be, because to miss such an obstacle as Captain America and whatever other agents he brought with him, would have never happened five years ago. You shook off your surprise and smiled, your lips parting to show white teeth. 

“I don’t know, a dance with a handsome stranger seems too cliché,” You teased. He lit up at his supposed anonymity.

“Steve. Do I get upgraded from stranger enough for a dance?” He persisted, but made no moves toward you. 

What a gentleman, you thought to yourself.

“I guess you do,” You lifted your gloved arm to him, expectantly.

Steve gently squeezed your hand and led you to the dance floor. The two of you were a perfect fit as you swayed across the room. Other guests gawked, with either jealousy or curiosity, you didn’t know. As the song ended the two of you stood, still close enough together for your breaths to intermingle.

During your dance you counted the two agents Steve brought with them out of the corner of your eye. One was a woman, blonde. Probably SHIELD. The other was a man with a gap toothed grin. He didn’t move like a regular agent, but definitely trained. 

You needed more time. 

“Thanks for the dance, Steve. See you around,” You said, sounding as flippant as you could.

As you pulled away, Steve whirled in front of you offering his arm. You linked yours with his and smirked up at him as he led through the crowd. He leaned down to your ear. 

“Gorgeous, your face didn’t come up once on the guest list,” he whispered. You didn’t react, allowing him to guide you further away from the crowd. 

“Since I’ve been made, I gotta say you’re a great dance partner, Captain.” You countered. 

The male agent was waiting for the two of you in a corner off to the side. Steve’s grip tightened, pulling you closer to him. In a threat assessment, Steve wanted you more towards him than his second in command. A selfless leader willing to put his life in danger over his team’s. 

So he was as much of a dream in real life as he was in your history books growing up.

“Why is it always the fine ones?” Number Two complained as Steve sat you down. You were flanked on either side, quite literally backed into a corner. 

“Nine minutes and twenty three seconds, remaining,” Mo called out in your earpiece. You didn’t reply. Instead, you caught a glimpse of the female making the rounds, most likely checking for any others. 

“You can call your girl off, I don’t bite.” You teased. Steve folded his arms over each other and leaned towards you. 

“Why are you here?” He asked. His lips twitched and he coughed when he caught you staring at them. You looked him in the eye with no shame. 

They were nice lips for a white guy.

“You know, I didn’t peg you as the type who only protects rich white folk, but I guess that’s why your partner’s here. To look out for the rest of us,” Your eyes flicked over to the dark skinned man. He was refreshing, really. 

“I’ll ask again: why are you here?” Steve demanded through a tight lipped smile. To spectators, it looked like you and the captain were flirting, so they tried to avert their gazes.

“You play with toys, Captain. I do business.” You stated, not missing a beat. 

You removed a ruby ring from your gloved hand and sat it across the table. Both men watched you and it like hawks. 

“I take what I am owed by my country, because my country didn’t love me enough to do right by me the first time. Your partner understands.” You said in a breathy voice. 

“I get paid just fine.” He told you. You were right about him not being an agent. You could feel the military bravado coming off him from a mile away. 

“Two minutes.” Mo said. You smirked. 

“Sure you do, soldier. But do you get paid his bucks?” You asked him, never sparing Steve a glance. 

You had a feeling the answer was no. 

“I have a pension with seventy years worth of interest on it. Now, what’s your name?” 

You smiled and turned towards him. Finally, a better question.

“Y/N. Ask your friend Bucky about me. I doubt he’s here, so ask him when—“

Steve cut you off. The games were over with. His expression darkened, his blue eyes harsher than when they first appeared. 

“You’re stalling. Fan out and find whoever she’s protecting.” He ordered. 

Both the soldier and the agent separated to look for your crew. They were long gone. Steve’s iron grip kept you in place, the advantages of a super soldier. 

“Pro-tip Captain, it’s only stalling if you need the extra time. I just like hearing you talk.” You admitted. 

Taking your free hand, you flagged down a waiter. As he drew nearer, your eyes turned a startling shade of purple and so did the waiter’s. Before Steve could react, you used your power to get inside the poor waiter’s head and made him see the single most person he wanted to hurt. 

It was an older man, probably his father. Predictable. 

The waiter launched himself at Steve before he could react, and the hand that gripped you was no more. You slid out from the  small booth and out in the open. The man was going rabid, but Steve was fending him off in the nicest possible way. The attention of the crowd was on them, but the soldier from earlier wasn’t as easily fooled. 

“I’m on her.” He replied, pushed through the masses to get to you. 

“Sorry, man. I hate to do this to a brother, but...” You trailed off, and your eyes flashed purple again. 

You made him see what he wanted most. This time the man, Sam, was stuck in a vision about him, dawning the Captain’s shield. Go figure. Sam stood stock still, his dark eyes turned a vibrant purple. You slipped out of the front door into a waiting car. 

As the driver sped off, you could see Steve bounding down the street after you. He recovered from your little sideshow, and was gaining on you. Damn, he was good. 

Opening up the skylight, you made eye contact with him, stopping him in his tracks. The vision was of you and him dancing like you had been doing only an hour ago. 

So he was a romantic at heart. 

You sat back down and used your powers to nudge Steve closer to the curb. You had no doubt that the man could take the hit, but there was something about him that stopped you from allowing it to happen. 

Besides, incoming traffic honked and swerved to avoid being hit by you or him, anyway. No civilian would be seriously injured and your stunt put enough distance between the two of you that you weren’t followed. 

“All thirty mil is accounted for and ready for distribution.” Mo sounded off. You smiled and fingered your diamond necklace. 

“Great work everyone, you know what to do,” you praised your team through your earpiece. The only bumps in the plan came from your end. You clicked off your comms and put it in your purse. 

As you sat back in your seat and pulled up the partition, your mind drifted to the Captain. You went off into the night with the memory of a handsome man who kept you on your toes all night. It was a shame you couldn’t enjoy him longer. 

“Goodnight, Steve.” You whispered. 

A secret goodbye to a man who wasn’t yours and would never hear it. 

                                                    …

“JARVIS, I need you to ID someone for me. Keyword: Y/N.” 

Steve was standing in Avengers Tower in an undershirt and the dress pants he had on earlier. He was staring intensely at the only image the camera could get of the jaw dropping woman who bested him. He blushed just thinking of the images you made him see. 

“She’s in the wind, man. And that’s probably a fake name.” Sam chimed in as he entered the room, yawning.

“She made me see things,” Steve started, but Sam threw his hand up with a look of almost guilt in his eyes.

Steve elected to ignore that. 

“Sir, there is no record of a Y/N ever existing.” JARVIS stated.

Steve clenched his jaw and thought back to what you said about Bucky. 

“JARVIS, pull up Hydra’s enhanced program. I doubt we’d get a name, but a list of abilities and weaknesses will do. Cross reference with any known or suspected holding facilities Bucky was in.” He ordered. 

Sucking in a breath, he still smelled hints of your perfume. It had been so long since he held a woman without the last name Carter. It was different, but he enjoyed it right up until the part where Sam said you were an uninvited guest with no ID. 

Steve had the worst luck with women. 

JARVIS pinged up a short list of Hydra experiments. 

Only one fit.

“Sam, can you go wake up, Buck. We need to talk to him about his ex-cellmate.” 

[heeleys-the-musical]

Ideas for Season 2 of 3rd Life

Happy one month anniversary of the ending of 3rd life season 1! I’ve still got the brainrot hard so please enjoy the thoughts that have been pinging around inside my brain like a DVD screensaver. In this post, I will present and defend changes I would like to see, storylines that could be used, and team-ups that I think would be entertaining.

Addition: Player Head Drops

If you watch Hermitcraft or Empires SMP, you may know of the Player Head Drops addon. For those that don’t know, it is a datapack that drops an item that is textured to look like a player’s head when that player is slain by pvp. This could add a new dimension to both roleplay and gameplay. For a morbid example, someone could mount the head of a slain enemy on a pike outside their base to warn off invaders. For more emotional impact, dead players would now have in-game remains so there’s an actual object to use when you bury your dead husband ally. For those less inclined to roleplay, the heads can be worn in the helmet armor slot and layer the texture over the player’s skin. This wouldn’t fool anyone at close range, but there is a lot of remote observation is 3rd Life. At a long distance, you can’t see a player name or its color, and in armor the only identifying feature would be the player’s head (this becomes more relevant in version 1.17 with the addition of the spyglass). Since helmets are banned, it wouldn’t be out of place to see someone heading out without headgear. Player heads could actually be used as an effective disguise. I think this change would add a fun new dimension to the game.

Plot Idea: Chosen One

In season 1, Martyn introduces the concept of some kind of divine being that is protecting and guiding him. The watchers mysterious voice seems angry that he did not win season 1, so why would they not redouble their efforts for the next try? Martyn is the chosen one, destined by the gods to be the last one standing in season 2. Ren is his head priest and they start a cult together (of course he has to team up with Ren again their dynamic is just *chef’s kiss*). I see Ren having a lot of fun with the ‘evangelizing preacher’ role. To convert people, they convince them of the concept of a shared win--if Martyn is the last one standing, everyone in the cult may consider that a victory. They could bring back Black Heart Altar and do more spooky blood sacrifices. It would also be really funny if they borrowed the ‘BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD’ meme.

A List of Potential Team-Ups

Grian and Etho: Etho is a lot more wholesome than we think. I know we were all psyched for a villian Etho arc after his tree burned, but it turns out he’s just a big softie. He constantly teased Bdubs and while he did fire missiles at the Crastle, killing was not his intention. Even when they were enemies, he never went too hard. Etho engaged in audio warfare and even says he doesn’t want Bdubs to die. He was loyal to the Red Army, but I think his heart was always with the Crastle. GRIAN, on the other hand, is a bloodthirsty gremlin who loves chaos. Scar may have guided the Sand Alliance, but Grian was the driving force. He got 5 kills while on his green life! I’m sure he would have gotten way more if he knew how to make working traps. Guess what Etho can do? These two would be a good team-up because they mutually simp respect each other and could play to each other’s strengths and weaknesses (and by that I mean Grain could lure Etho to the dark side). This would be a frightening team. Potential downsides: this may lead to Grian winning again. Counterpoint: the other players may recognize how powerful this team is and and take them out early.

Skizzleman and BdoubleO100: while these two didn’t interact much in season 1, they both have a level of voice control and manic energy that I think would play really well off each other. Could you imagine them in a yelling match? I would also add Joel to this mix, simply to encourage him to go crazy. His delivery of “THE RED KING DIES TONIGHT, FELLAS!” was in my opinion, the peak of his series, and the energy of this team could lead to more. As a counterweight, I would add Bigb to this team. He’s like a capybara; he just exudes chill. He could keep the team focused and prevent them from turning on each other. Someone has to be the responsible mom friend here.

Cleo and Scott: The Gays Star-Crossed Widows Alliance. I don’t know if these two have collaborated before, but It seems like these two get along really well. Cleo and the flower husbands had a secret alliance because they trusted each other, they had the widows alliance that never happened, and Scott even intended to put flowers on Cleo’s grave after she died. Plus, their dynamic is really fun. Imagine them running around heckling the roleplayers.

Jimmy and Scar: The Himbo Alliance. This one is kind of a joke but please just imagine this for a minute. Scar’s charisma stat is through the roof, and Jimmy is a trained MCC champion. Similar to how Scar performed in season 1, they could come off as so dumb and harmless that no one would expect them to come in from behind and sweep the competition. Honorable mention to Bdubs.

That’s all for now! I probably have more ideas but I just can’t put them into meaningful words yet. Signing off, this is a grown-ass adult who needs a hobby.

[majestyrising]

Seraph, Pt. IV

Notes: Continuing this loose series of snippets from the history of Ieri Poli. War looms, and a messenger runs for his life.

Pings: @vicegrips-fr @mask-fr @kattafr @slighteyewing​

A silhouette from above darkens the ground as he rides. A wingspan wider than he can see stretches across the once golden plains and bathes the already sodden earth in black.

Wild animalistic panic bubbles inside his throat, the blood pounding in his temples so hard he cannot hear the low inhuman rumble of the shade beast that pursues him. Or perhaps it doesn’t even notice the speck that lies beneath it’s belly and the raw panic the messenger feels is purely coincidental. It feels pointed though- malice made manifest sweeping across what was once a peaceful nation.

“Lightweaver,” he manages to wheeze out, feeling the sweat drip down his throat as his mount pants beneath him, “Help me.”

As if answering his calls, a beam of light pierces the heavens. The messenger looks up to see a rain of light made into holy spears, breaking through the massive silhouette of the beast above. They shoot straight through as the beast tilts to the side, taken off guard by the attack. It cries out, a mournful song- all it wants is to return home, but it will not be so lucky.

A commanding voice rings out from the heavens.

“You will come no further.”

The messenger lets out a shaky breath, the iron grip he’s had on the reins going slack in his hands. A rush of relief runs through his veins, as sweet as honey. Oh, his muscles ache, his very soul aches, but he can feel tears springing to his eyes anyway.

“Belisarius Dei,” he whispers.

The mighty beast above finally crashes to the earth. It’s form is warped and wrong, as a child tried to sculpt a mighty dragon but had little reference to work with. It’s long wings bleed into the rest of it’s body, dotted with strange gaps where flesh mixes with black liquid. It’s gaping maw opens for a moment, a death rattle before it falls silent.

Beside it, a Herald of the Lightweaver settles.

“You were brave,” Belisarius says, closing her wings along her back, “To keep riding.”

“Of course,” the messenger wheezes out, chest heaving as sweat drips from his pale face, “Iustinious Dei wished me to.. return at all.. costs.”

He laughs, coughs, dragging a hand over his face.

“Then we will deliver this news together,” Bela says, her voice a lilting thing.

She places a hand on the man’s chest and smiles, radiating out healing magic which alleviates the worst of his fear and panic, as well as healing the steed he rode on.

“I shall fly above you and guide you home,” she says, lifting back up into the sky.

“Thank you,” he says, then louder as she flies up, “Thank you!”

Ieri Poli is abuzz with activity. It has been the jewel of the middle-lands for generations, one of the first cities to be formed and the favoured roost of the God-King Iustinious Dei.

When the messenger arrives, the crowds greet him both with grins and shoulder-claps of appreciation.

“You’re back! You’re back! You lived!”

“Ha, told you! Nothing can stop us, not any monster!”

“That false God better count her days, I’m telling you!”

He laughs nervously, exhaling as the crowd parts around Belisarius Dei, bowing their heads. Some throw flowers as she passes, which seem to catch in her feathers and hair and bloom ever brighter.

“Your Radiance! My Dearest Lady of Fortitude! You return!”

“I will always return,” Bela says warmly, accepting a bouquet that is given to her with shaking hands, “We must protect you all. Come, fleet-foot messenger.”

“Um, my name is Caecilianus,” he offers, “Your Radiance-ness.”

Bela laughs at that, like the chiming of a curtain full of golden bells.

“I do not need such fancy titles, child of man,” she says, kindly, “Belisarius Dei is my name.”

Caecilianus laughs, nervous but relieved as they walk through the marble streets and cobblestone paths, up around the stairs and towards the palace at Ieri’s centre- the Herald’s Roost.

Inside the Roost is a complex combination of a temple and a palace, even more abuzz with activity than the streets as people fall over themselves passing around reports and strategizing.

“Saint Sidaris,” Belisairus says, drawing the attention of a veiled woman with a beautiful circlet, “The messenger has returned.”

“Oh, what wonderful news!” Sidaris says, turning around and giving Caecilanus a bright smile- despite the bags under her eyes, she looks optimistic- “I will inform His Radiance at once.”

“No need!” a voice says from above.

Someone- something?- jumps from one of the higher floors, six wings flaring as gravity itself obeys and he settles gently on the floor. There is something about him- the sum of details, a bright halo and long purple hair, golden jewels and pale robes- that summons bravery from even the weariest of hearts.

“I heard you already, Sidaris,” Iustinious Dei says, walking right over to Caecilanus and clasping him on the shoulder, “You are truly brave, and I thank you for your service to Ieri.”

“Oh,” Caecilanus manages to wheeze out, trying his best not to collapse as the demi-god of counsel and justice stares him in the face as if it’s no big deal, “Of course, Your Radiance.”

“Psh,” Iustinious dismisses, “Iustinious is fine, or Ius. Come, give me the report and get some rest. Your husband was in here asking after you this morning, I am sure he will be elated at your return.”

Before Caecilanus can actually hand the letter to him, Iustinious takes it from his hands and unfolds it, walking away as he reads, feathers of his wings readjusting themselves.

“Please forgive His Radiance,” Sidaris says, rolling her eyes subtly, “He’s very busy.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” he says quickly, “Did Niketas really come in earlier looking for me?”

Sidaris nods in confirmation, holding her hands together at her chest.

“He did,” she says, “You should-”

He’s already turning to leave despite his aching limbs, renewed by the closeness of his beloved. Sidaris stifles a laugh until she feels Iustinious standing just behind her- and she can feel the weight of his gaze.

“Sidaris,” he says, as she meets his eyes, “This is not good.”

[alj4890]

12 Days of Ficmas

Day 2

(Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries Christmas one shot.

A/N I always love these two and their awkward ways of admitting they want more than friendship. What better way to do so than at a holiday party that is nothing but chaotic? This fic grew longer and longer as I worked on it. I blame my daydreaming and my lack of self-control. Woooo 2020! LOL!

12 Days of Ficmas writers and readers list

@texaskitten30​ @leelee10898​ @emichelle​ @zaffrenotes​ @burnsoslow​ @kat-tia801​ @darley1101​ @msjr0119​ @annekebbphotography​ @god-save-the-keen​ @plumeriavibes @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow @katedrakeohd  @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject

Thomas Hunt List

@krsnlove @lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment   @annekebbphotography @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @greywitchyshots @lilyoffandoms @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfanfiction @kate-mckenzie @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @trappedinfandoms

Song Inspiration: Underneath the Mistletoe by Kelly Clarkson and Brett Eldridge

Masterlist

Mistletoe Madness

November 28th...

"Well," Ryan began as soon as he entered Thomas's suite. "He did it again."

"Again? How delayed will we be this time?" Thomas demanded.

"We're looking at another six weeks." The former heartthrob movie star recently turned executive producer poured them both a drink. "Given the holidays approaching, I suspect it will be closer to nine weeks."

Thomas grumbled about never again agreeing to producing another person's film.

If he had not witnessed the young director's raw talent firsthand, he would have never joined this venture. With Ryan Summers urging him on to support the next generation, he had somehow ended up spending the last few months in New York City and basically babysitting a twenty-two year old recent film graduate.

"Austin swears this will be the last time." Ryan explained.

Thomas took a healthy gulp of scotch.  "Are we certain he isn't in over his head?"

"You've seen the dailies." Ryan rubbed a hand down his face. "What do you think?"

Thomas slumped in his chair. "It is going to be a critically acclaimed film that sweeps the Oscars."

Ryan finished off his drink and stood up. "Don't worry. There is nothing like Christmas in New York."

"Except in my home." Thomas grumbled.

"Have no fear." Ryan's charming smile flashed. "I intend on hosting my annual Christmas party."

Thomas didn't bother to repress his shudder. "You mean that garish monstrosity that you refer to as an intimate gathering?"

"Can I help it that everyone loves me?"

"I believe you could." Thomas grumbled.

"Look on the bright side." Ryan reminded him. "Most of the people who love me are nearly three thousand miles away in California. This might actually be my most intimate gathering yet."

"True." Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose one night of revelry won't kill me."

"There's that Christmas fortitude." Ryan set his empty glass down. "I'll let you know when the plans are finalized."

On his way out the door, he sent an image with a couple of phrases to a few groups in his contact list.

Christmas Party: Where? 80 Fifth Avenue at 14th Street, 17th Floor PH, New York, NY When? 7p.m., December 17. Why? You already know the answer. RSVP? Only if you want to come inside.

Within seconds of sending it, his phone began to chime nonstop with friends and acquaintances saying they would fly in just for his party.

******************

December 14th...

"Oof!" Amanda tried to keep from falling over. "I'm so sor--"

"My fau--Amanda!" Ryan grasped her arms. "What are you doing in New York?"

"Some of Cordonia's nobles were invited for a World Tourism forum." She explained. "What about you?" Her teasing smile formed. "Why are you not in sunny California?"

He chuckled and linked his arm with hers, guiding her toward a nearby coffee shop. "I'm currently here as a producer."

"I had heard that you were stepping behind the camera for a change."

"Producing seemed the easiest." He shook his head with a laugh. "I never knew I could be so wrong."

After placing their orders and finding a table in a secluded corner, he asked how long she would be in New York.

"I was supposed to leave with everyone yesterday." She picked at her chocolate croissant. "But I decided to stay a few more days and do some Christmas shopping."

"So it’s just you?" He asked.

"Just me." She smiled at him. "I don't have anyone complaining about the cold weather or my tendency to linger near Christmas decorations."

"Speaking of Christmas decorations," he held his phone up, "Did you receive my party invitation?"

"I did. I didn't RSVP because I wasn’t sure how long I would stay here."

"Then allow me to RSVP for you." He quickly added her to the list. "Can't have one of my favorite duchesses alone this weekend."

She chuckled. "Who else is coming?"

"The usual." He flashed a smile. "You know most of them. One in particular."

Her eyebrow lifted. "Now I am curious."

"Thomas has been here with me." He explained. "We are both producers--"

"I know." She said softly.

"You do?" His smile grew mischievous. "Just how close did you two become when he filmed in Cordonia last spring?"

She squirmed in her chair. "We became friends."

"Friends or friends?"

"Ryan..." She could feel a headache forming at his prodding.

"Sorry." He relaxed back in his chair. "I know it is none of my business. Just because I am friends with both parties doesn't mean that I have a right to know if they moved out of that friendship phase of--"

"Thomas was right." Amanda playfully threw her napkin at him. "You really don't stop talking."

"Well," he shrugged. "I mean there are ways I enjoy being forced to shut up." He winked at her. "But I don't think you want to go down that road, at least not with me."

"You are impossible." She shook her head in resignation.

"I know." Ryan straightened in his chair when he noticed the time. "I have a meeting with one of the caterers." He flashed a smile as he stood up. "Want to come along and keep me company?"

"I should try and finish my shopping." She glanced down at the different bags of Tiffany blue, Gucci white, and Cartier red. "Especially now that I have to find something to wear for your party."

"Come with me and then I will help you find whatever you want." He took her bags before she could give an answer. "I could use someone else's opinion on appetizers."

"I suppose I have to say yes, since you're holding my purchases hostage."

He chuckled at her teasing while offering his arm. "Come with me, duchess, if you ever want to see these again."

Slipping her arm through his, they set off down Fifth Avenue.

*****************

Later that night...

Thomas wrapped a towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower. He rolled his shoulders in an attempt to work the many knots of stress that persisted after fourteen hours of filming.

I should have remained in the director's chair.

The need to take control was growing stronger than ever. It was a wonder that he had not broken the arms off of the chair he sat in as he attempted to keep his mouth shut. The ridiculously young director had made numerous decisions he wanted to change.

But it isn't my vision we are going for.

As he rubbed a towel through his hair, he heard the familiar ping of notifications on his phone.

He picked it up, smiling at seeing Amanda's name as part of an alert.

It disappeared when he saw the following images.

She was in New York. With Ryan.

And it looked like they were more than friends.

"Why didn't she tell me she was here?" He muttered to himself.

He swiped through the images of smiling Ryan sitting on a couch at Versace while Amanda twirled in a dress for him.

He then saw an image of the two walking out of a coffee shop, arm in arm.

Thomas tossed his phone on the bed as he hurried to dress. Frustration built within him at the thought that Ryan might feel something for her.

After months of debating how to broach the subject of dating, he couldn't believe that he might have missed his opportunity with her.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at his door.

Eyes narrowed when he saw who it was through the peephole.

"Ready?" Ryan asked as he walked in. "I was able to get us a table at Cote for..." He trailed off when Thomas turned his back on him. "What's wrong? No to Korean barbecue or did Austin flounder again?"

"No."

"Still struggling with his directing decisions?" Ryan asked.

"No. In a way. But no." Thomas bit out.

He knew he was being unreasonable. Ryan couldn't possibly know how he felt about the duchess since he had not bothered to share that with anyone.

Still, it should have been him running around New York with her instead of his flirtatious, playboy friend.

Wondering just how serious Ryan was about Amanda, he decided to casually get some information out of him.

"How did the party planning go?"

"Better than I expected." Ryan's smile reappeared. "Everything is set. Music, food, drinks, and decorations will be on theme this year."

"Ah." Thomas mumbled. "And the theme is?"

"You'll see." Ryan winked. "You won't believe who I ran into today."

Finally. "Who?"

"Amanda Bridgerton. There was some type of forum she had to attend last week and she decided to remain here on her own for some extra days of fun and shopping." Ryan replied.

"Is she coming to your party?" Thomas asked.

"It took some of my powers of persuasion, but I got her to agree."

"She should have let me know she was here." Thomas cleared his throat. "It would have been nice to see her."

"I asked her about that when she said she knew you were in New York." Ryan cocked his head to the side as he studied his friend. "She said she didn't want to bother you while you worked."

"Amanda isn't a bother." Thomas felt a little better at hearing that.

It does sound like the thoughtful thing she would normally do.

"That's what I told her." Ryan replied, checking the time again. "If you don't hurry, we’ll be late in meeting her for dinner."

Thomas's head jerked up. "We're having dinner with Amanda?'

"Why wouldn't we?" Ryan slowly smiled. "Once I told her that you would welcome a distraction from producing, she readily agreed to dinner."

The pictures then were like any other from gossip magazines. Completely innocent.

Ryan noticed an expression of relief form on Thomas's face.

He leaned forward in his chair. "Just how close were you two in Cordonia?"

Thomas's flush told the actor all he needed to know.

"We became friends." He muttered on his way back into the bathroom.

"Friends, huh?" Ryan rubbed his hands together. "I guess that's why Amanda is still single."

*****************

Cote NYC, an hour later...

"There she is." Ryan pointed towards a table to the right of the restaurant.

Amanda was studying the menu and didn't notice them walking in.

Thomas felt that same jolt to his heart that he had each time he saw her. Knowing she would be here with him, with no distractions, made him decide to test the proverbial waters.

The moment she looked up, her eyes immediately went to Thomas.

Her smile was filled with warmth and a touch of shyness when she stood up to greet him.

His lips grazed her cheek as he took her hands.

Even in the dim light, he could see her blush.

Ryan glanced from one to the other and cleared his throat. After a second, louder clearing to get their attention failed, he spoke up.

"I'm here too."

Amanda pulled her hands out of Thomas's grasp.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" She teased.

Ryan dramatically clutched his chest. "Did our day out together mean nothing to you?"

She shook her head at his foolishness. "I might have enjoyed it, if you hadn't made me try on so many dresses."

She sat back down and felt a thrill go through her body when Thomas slid in next to her.

He draped his arm along the back of their booth and turned more towards her as they talked.

Ryan observed the two closely, a slight smirk on his lips at discovering that there was a definite attraction between the two.

His party's mistletoe theme would go a long way in helping these two.

*****************

Towards the end of dinner, both men received a cryptic text from Austin.

Ryan lifted an eyebrow. "Do you understand what he is talking about?"

"Unfortunately, I do." Thomas slipped his phone back in his pocket. "We better go in case he decides to try and dangle a camera from the Empire State building.

Ryan motioned to the waiter for the check.

Amanda tried to not be too disappointed. She hadn't realized how much she had missed being around Thomas until she had him sit next to her. The dinner had been the best she had had in a long time.

And it had nothing to do with the food.

His attention had settled on her and remained. It was a wonder she had not become tongue tied under his steady, dark gaze. His fingers grazed her shoulder every so often each time he settled his arm along the back of their seat.

If only they could have been alone without anyone disturbing them.

"Where are you staying?" Thomas asked.

"The Ritz-Carlton." Amanda wrote her suite number down for him. "Twenty-first floor."

He slipped it into his pocket before giving her his hotel and room information.

"We aren't too far away from you." He smiled softly at her. "Perhaps after we calm Austin down, we can plan on meeting up."

"I would love that." She took his hand as he helped her out of the booth.

"If nothing else, you two can meet up at my annual Christmas party." Ryan added.

Thomas and Amanda both stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.

"That's true." She mumbled.

"It is a small gathering still. Isn't it?" Thomas asked.

Ryan shrugged as he led the way out.

"Do you know how big it will be?" Thomas whispered.

"No." Amanda's eyes narrowed. "But if I had to judge by the caterer's face when Ryan wrote down how many he was expecting, small is not going to be associated at all with his party."

***************

Dec. 17, Manhattan Penthouse, Fifth Avenue...

"I can't believe that we have been trapped with Austin the past few days." Thomas grumbled.

"Neither can I." Ryan slung an arm around his friend's shoulders and gave a gentle shake. "Cheer up. We now have two weeks or so of freedom from the boy wonder."

"There is that." Thomas eyed the growing number of people coming in. "Aren't you supposed to greet your guests?"

"Nah. Everyone knows who I am." Ryan replied. "But I will go mingle."

Once he disappeared into the crowd, Thomas lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Every five feet or less, a sprig of mistletoe dangled with lights and tinsel. The plant was hung from the main bar to every inch of the ballroom. There were even a set over the bathroom doorways.

Between the open bar and whatever alcoholic concoction Ryan's Christmas punch was made of, this holiday party would soon turn into a different sort of gathering.

Thomas wanted no part of an almost drunken orgy.

The only reason he had come was so that he could see Amanda. The long hours working with Austin had offered nothing except a quick phone call to apologize that he couldn't meet up with her. The few texts they exchanged were filled with understanding and a hope to see each other soon.

He hoped to find her in this crowd that was quickly getting larger and entice her away. Go someplace quiet where he could talk to her about taking that next step that would change everything.

That shouldn't be too difficult, he thought as he began to walk around.

But Thomas had made one mistake.

He was walking a path covered in mistletoe.

**************

An hour later...

"There you are!" Ryan greeted Amanda with a kiss on her cheek. "I was afraid you weren't coming."

"It was a long line for the elevator." She looked around at the crowded room. "Looks like you invited everyone."

"Not everyone." Ryan handed her a cup of punch. "I forgot to invite my financial advisor. One of the guys that serves coffee. Probably a couple of others."

Not paying attention, Amanda took a big gulp of the punch. She struggled to get a deep breath as she felt the alcohol burn a path down her throat to settle with the sensation of a small fire forming in her stomach.

"What," she wheezed, "is in this?"

"Old Summers family secret." He nudged her cup up to take another swallow. "The first is the hardest. The ones that follow make everything bright."

"Don’t you mean right?" She took a tentative sip and realized he was right. The fire was gone, leaving her with an aftermath of warm giddiness. Finishing off her cup, she smiled while admiring his decorations. "It really does make everything bright."

He chuckled while pouring her another one. "Enjoy duchess. I have to go talk to the couple that just walked in." Ryan gestured toward the back of the ballroom. "I saw Thomas over there earlier."

Before she could say anything, he disappeared.

Smiling from not only the Christmas punch but also at the thought of spending time with the man she secretly loved, Amanda began to weave her way through, pausing only long enough to greet those she knew.

***************

"For the love of--" Thomas suffered through another overly eager kiss.

This particular wannabe celebrity told him she was a popular YouTube personality.

It took all of his willpower to keep from telling her that he truly didn't care about her type of fame nor anything about her. He untangled himself from her arms and picked up his pace.

Being blocked in by Ryan's guests on one side and tables on the other, he had yet to escape the long line of mistletoe.

"Dammit!" He was grabbed once more.

"Is that any way to greet me, Thomas?" A sultry actress cooed.

"Good evening, Ava." He grasped her arms. "If you will excuse me--"

"You're under the mistletoe." She gripped the lapels of his blazer. "You know what that means?"

"Unfortunately, I do." He grumbled. Closing his eyes, he subjected himself to the kiss she pressed to his lips.

When Thomas was finally released, he first took pleasure in the disappointed expression on Ava's face from his lack of response.

Then his heart dropped at the person who stood a few feet away, staring at him.

Amanda turned away when Thomas locked eyes on her. Her mind jumped from one wild thought to another.

Thank God I didn't tell him how I felt! What if I had and then he had been forced to point out which woman he preferred? I need to leave. No! Then he'll suspect! I have to stay. Smile. Drink, dance, and be merry. Act like my heart didn't drop at the sight of Thomas being kissed by a woman I can't ever compete with.

She knew she couldn't run away so she remained in place. With a neutral expression on her face, she watched him out of the corner of her eye walk over to her.

"Amanda, I--that display you--I--" Thomas stuttered.

She turned toward him with a friendly smile firmly on her lips. "Thomas," she began with a slight, carefree laugh, "what can one do when caught under the mistletoe?"

Thomas blinked, taken aback when she casually shrugged the incident away.

Her heart was thudding as if she had sprinted. Pretending to not be affected by everything was too hard with his attention on her. She needed a temporary escape.

She called upon the things her friends in Cordonia depended on when upset.

Olivia would tell her to face the situation head on.

Not something I want to do.

Drake would go to the bar.

I've already had too much Christmas punch.

Hana would suggest desserts.

The table is too far away.

Maxwell would suggest to dance one’s troubles away.

Hmm. I could do that.

Her eyes scanned some of the men that stood nearby. Catching Ryan's eye, she nodded toward the dance floor with a silent plea.

He smiled at her. Coming over to do as she wanted, he noticed Thomas and glanced curiously back and forth at the two.

"Duchess?" He held his hand out. "Care to dance?"

"I would love to." She turned to a shocked Thomas. "Would you mind holding my drink?"

When his fingers grazed hers, she looked up at his face. Her carefully guarded expression flickered revealing her angry frustration.

"Feel free to use my cocktail napkin." She snapped.

"Your napkin?" Thomas repeated. "Why?"

"That shade of lipstick isn't really your color." She lowered her eyes and stubbornly ignored his attempt to explain.

She grabbed Ryan's hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

Ryan immediately twirled her as the upbeat tempo began. Taking both her hands to pull her toward him, he lifted an eyebrow in silent question.

She shook her head. "Don't ask. Please."

His gaze momentarily softened to pity. "Then hold on tight." He broke out some swing dance moves in the hopes of getting her to smile.

Her laughter at the numerous twirls he spun her in with dramatic dips made him smile.

"You know?" He said, once she was upright. "The only way I was able to get Thomas to agree to come tonight was telling him that you would be here."

"Ryan." She muttered.

"Amanda." He countered with a flirty grin on his face.

She couldn't help but smile back. "How do you make it impossible to ignore you?"

"Part of my charm." He admitted, twirling her into his embrace right as the song came to an end. "Now go forth and be kissed by someone you like."

She looked about at the number of couples kissing on the dance floor. She then lifted her eyes to the ceiling, sighing in relief that they had danced in a mistletoe free zone.

"I don't know if I should be thrilled for the one you prefer or insulted at how happy you are not to be under the mistletoe with me." Ryan narrowed his eyes playfully.

She laughed and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Does that help?"

"Not really." He winked at her. "You just gave me a brotherly peck. I now have to find someone to bolster my flagging confidence."

She watched him dance away in search for a more kissable partner.

Amanda jumped when she felt someone grasp her hand.

Ignoring her surprise, Thomas pulled her off the dance floor.

"Thomas!" She tried to make him stop. "Where are we going?"

"Out." He stopped long enough to retrieve their coats.

"What about Ryan's party?" She couldn't stop her bitterness from spilling out. "Aren't there more people you hope to find under the mistletoe?"

"I never want to see that damn plant again." He snapped, gripping her hand as they stepped into the elevator.

They kept their eyes forward, trying to ignore the couples that joined them. Kisses were given as each seemed to still be in a haze from all the mistletoe..

They escaped and stepped out onto the sidewalk, each breathing a little easier.

Their eyes met.

"I should pro--"

"Walk with me--"

They closed their mouths and simply stared at one another.

"Will you go for a walk with me?" Thomas asked. "There is something I need to discuss with you."

Amanda hoped but honestly doubted that what he wanted to talk about was the subject she had intended to talk to him about.

Feelings are such a nuisance, she thought to herself.

With a brief nod, she began to walk towards Central Park. Once inside, she quickened her pace, hoping to burn up her frustration enough to calmly hear whatever it was he wished to say.

Without a word, Thomas kept up with her. When she started to slip on an icy patch on the walkway, he swept her into his arms.

Her breath hitched as her body slid directly against his.

Their noses bumped against one another’s.

Thomas tightened his arms around her refusing to lose this one chance to have her undivided attention. He had argued with himself about cutting in the entrie time she danced with Ryan. That ridiculous party would be the last time he allowed anything to keep him from finding out if she felt as strongly as he did.

"What," her voice cracked, "what did you want to talk about?"

His lips curved somewhat at seeing she was just as affected by being close to him as he was her. "Us."

Her eyes dropped down to his lips. "Us?"

His eyes drifted down her face, pausing at her mouth. "Yes."

"Oh." She breathed the word as his head slowly dropped toward hers.

He gently captured her lips in a tender kiss.

Thomas had felt nothing with those other kisses he had been given at the party. The spark from that touch of her lips warmed him to his toes. And yet, the mere brush of her gloved hand through his hair as he moved to kiss her again caused his skin to burn.

The kiss deepened, drawing an audible gasp from both at the sensation of the other's lips.

When they parted, their eyes met.

"Thomas, I--"

"I want to--"

Amanda bit her bottom lip. "You first."

Thomas smiled softly. "I'm in love with you."

"I love you too." She smiled against his lips when he kissed her again.

A thought popped into her mind, causing her to jerk away.

"Amanda, what--"

"I better never catch you in a room that has both beautiful actresses and mistletoe." She warned him.

He chuckled while cuddling her close. "You're the only one I will ever willingly stand under mistletoe for."

Amanda sweetly sighed at that as she pressed another kiss to his lips.

When his lips drifted down her cheek, she spoke up again.

"There was a corner at Ryan's party where one sprig of mistletoe wasn't being stepped under."

"Really?" He lifted his head. "That is a pity."

"Isn't it?" Her arms looped around his neck. "All alone. Without a purpose."

"I suppose we could go back and fulfill its one mission in life." He rested his forehead against hers. "Or..."

"Or?"

"We go somewhere private and pretend the entire room is covered in mistletoe."

"Private, hmm?" Amanda stepped out of Thomas's arms. "I think I would like to try this pretending."

He wrapped his arm around her as they walked out of the park. "If you follow my lead, I think you will enjoy yourself immensely."

[alpacaparkaseok]

Happy Holidays

14. “C’mon, it’s sweater weather. Let’s go buy you a sweater.”

15. “Psst.” “What?” “You look pretty.”

Pairing: Jimin x soulmate (from my series 7 Secrets)

“It hasn’t even snowed yet, Chim.”

Aera sits before her laptop, typing away as she tried to submit this report on the last month’s earnings before Jimin can entirely distract her.

“Yeah,” Jimin grabs a chair and sits beside his soulmate. “But it’s cold. I don’t see why you refuse to wear a sweater if there’s no snow. You’d look adorable!” 

Not saying anything, Aera taps the keyboard in hopes of finishing up this boring report so she can spend some quality time with her soulmate. Heaven knows he needs a lot of attention.

“I just don’t see the point in breaking out big chunky sweaters when there’s not a single snowflake on the ground. I have an image to uphold, remember?” Aera shoots Jimin a teasing wink before focusing on her laptop again. 

Jimin pouts, dropping his head to his hands and gazing up at Aera with big eyes. “C’mon, it’s sweater weather. Let’s go buy you a sweater.”

He knows just how to get her to leave work behind: shopping. 

Aera is still experiencing unrivaled success in her field as a designer, but oddly enough she rarely gets to enjoy the world of fashion for herself. Jimin knows this; he’s seen how she keeps a secret list of brands she’d like to check out in her spare time. 

Unfortunately none of those brands specialize in oversized sweaters, which is the only thing Jimin has been interested in wearing since the weather has gotten chillier. When he first asked Aera about her style preferences in winter, she simply stated that she had one rule:

No snow = no sweaters. 

Cardigans? Sure. Hoodies? Why not. But the oversized sweaters that nearly all women fall prey to around this time of year? Absolutely not. 

Gradually Jimin has been collecting photos of different sweaters he think she’ll like, more refined, soft looking ones. Aera doesn’t do grunge, so he made sure to steer clear of that. Although she’ll never admit it, Aera has been slowly opening up to the idea of lounging about in a sweater and fuzzy socks like the ones Jin buys Kyung-soon. 

Letting out a long sigh, Aera shoots Jimin a look of long-suffering. “Alright, but only after I finish this report.”

Jimin shouts, jumping up and proceeding to dance around the room. Aera can’t help but watch, laughing as Jimin basks in the small victory. 

“Ok ok, I’ll be downstairs, I won’t distract you anymore. Come straight down once you’re done, ok?”

“Ok.”

The rest of the report takes up more time that expected, but Jimin is still as excited as a kid on Christmas morning by the time Aera heads downstairs. His head pops up from where he’s watching TV, grinning at her. 

“You ready?”

Aera nods. “Where are we going shopping?”

Jimin just shrugs, grabbing his coat and tossing her’s toward her. “I have a few places in mind.”

They end up first stopping for lunch, finally making it to a small boutique in the middle of Seoul a couple of hours later. The both of them have their masks on and hats down low, but it’s only a matter of time before somebody will recognize them. 

Jimin and Aera have had the most public relationship out of the seven soulmate couples, partially due to the fact that Jimin has a history of intense stalkers and the fact that Aera was already fairly well known in the fashion circle. While they’ve been under nearly constant scrutiny, they always make sure they make time to be together. 

“Alright, what color do you think would suit me best?” Aera asks, immediately starting to sift through the racks of clothes. “I’ve always like light pink, oooh or maybe yellow?”

Jimin smiles as he watches the stress that Aera’s been under melting away now that she’s in her element. “That’d look pretty, want me to hold it for you?” Aera wastes no time piling the sweaters into Jimin’s arms, giggling as she sees him peeking out over the mountain of fabric.

Once she’s gathered a few more, she heads straight over to the fitting station. She’s made her way through all the sweaters in a flash, weighing the pros and cons of each one. That’s another thing that Jimin loves about her: he’d expected her to be the kind of shopper that takes hours to decide on a single item of clothing. Aera is quite the opposite; her expert eye picking out what suits her best and quickly tossing out the other options. 

Now she stands before him in a lavender sweater, managing to take Jimin’s breath away. 

“This one’s nice, isn’t it? The color is really pretty.”

Jimin can only nod, hardly daring to blink for fear of missing out on a single moment. “Beautiful. How do you look so beautiful in just a simple sweater?” Aera blushes at his candor, trying and failing to walk backwards into the fitting room. She bumps into the door, watching as Jimin’s face lights up with a laugh. 

“Oh, shut up.”

In the end Aera goes with the lavender sweater and a deep blue one. It’s extra oversized, nearly coming down to her knees, while the lavender one only sweeps down to her hips. 

As they leave the store a gasp leaves Aera’s lips, Jimin stopping behind her before bursting out into laughter. 

“It’s snowing!”

Jimin takes another moment to take in the sight before gently guiding Aera to the van before someone can recognize them. “You know this means you have to wear the sweater now, right?”

Aera does just that, changing into the blue sweater the second they arrive at the boys’ apartment. Jimin sets about finding a movie to watch. They’ve decided to watch all movies over here from now on since they can hardly hear the TV over the constant ping pong matches going on at the girls’ apartment. 

When Aera emerges out of Jimin’s room in the giant blue sweater, Jimin can’t help but smile as he motions for her to come closer. 

“Let’s see your sweater paws.”

Aera waves her sweater paws at him, shrieking as Jimin grabs them and pulls her in closer. “What are you doing?!” Jimin ignores her with an evil smile as he ties the sleeves together before slipping Aera’s arms over his head until they’re settled wrapped around his waist. 

Pulling her down onto the couch with him, Jimin laughs at Aera’s incredulous expression. “Now you can’t escape.”

Aera pulls and tugs at the sleeves to no avail, finally huffing and falling against Jimin’s chest as she glares up at him. “Is this why you wanted me to get a big sweater so bad?”

Jimin’s smile could melt all the snow that’s piling up outside, and Aera snuggles in a bit closer upon seeing it. 

“Maybe.”

They turn on the movie, Jimin eventually making Aera follow him to the kitchen so he can pop popcorn. She tries to slip her arms back over his head in order to free herself, but Jimin is fast to stop her. 

“But I wanna eat popcorn,” Aera whines once they sit back down on the couch. Jimin grabs the bowl, holding it in his lap.

“Open up, then.”

Rolling her eyes, Aera debates chomping down on his fingers but decides that she’d rather eat popcorn. 

Her cheeks are filled to the brim with popcorn, hair a mess from leaning against Jimin, arms still wrapped tightly around him. Jimin can’t help but stare at her rather than the movie, the sight a rare but beautiful one.

“Psst.”

Aera doesn’t bother to look away from the movie. “What?”

Jimin pops another piece of popcorn into her mouth, smiling when she opens up without hesitation. “You look pretty.”

Aera’s eyes slip to his in confusion, a pretty pout painting her features. “I still hate you for tying my arms together.”

Jimin leans into his soulmate as laughter racks his body. Wiping an imaginary tear from his eyes, he winks at Aera. “I can live with that.”

masterlist

@taylorroe3​

[mymelodyheart]

Starting Over Chapter 33 ~Epilogue~

WARNING: VERY VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Five Years later

 Claire stepped into the shower and gasped as the spray of heat hit her skin. It was the perfect temperature and pressure. She groaned when the steam started to build up, and the water ran down her body like a caress. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as her fingers busily worked the tangled knots in her hair. Today was the first day of their holiday, and they were going to Lallybroch for Sunday lunch. And then tomorrow, they were heading to Oxford to visit her parents' grave before flying to Italy. 

Jamie had barely roused when her phone began to buzz with a message from Geillis telling her Joe would be picking uncle Lamb up before heading for Lallybroch. After a quick reply with a thumbs up, she'd kissed Jamie on the lips and decided to get up. Although it was still early for Sunday, she'd taken the opportunity to get ahead for the day.

She'd just squeezed shower gel into the sponge when the door suddenly opened.

"Jamie?"

"Hmmm?"

She peered through the thick steam and got a glimpse of her sleep-mussed husband. Enjoying the view, she waited, as he took off his boxer briefs and stepped into the shower. His large naked body dominated the massive space, and she smiled at the sight of his impressive morning erection and display of hard muscles in full masculine glory. After all these years, she never tired admiring his beautiful physique, fit and toned from running the rugby academy and personally coaching his young and upcoming talents and training with them.

"Morning Sassenach. Thought I'd join ye."

His almost transparent blue eyes held a mischievous gleam that made her wary. She fidgeted on her feet, suddenly loathing the unflattering light that highlighted her stretch marks and full hips when he looked so perfectly toned. Although she was comfortable in her own skin, and Jamie made her feel cherished, standing under the bright light made her conscious of the extra pounds her body hadn't managed to shift ever since giving birth to their daughter, Faith. 

She crossed her arms over her breasts and attempted to act unconcerned. "Umm, I'll finish off. Faith might wake up and come looking for us."

He ignored her words, moving closer until the spray caught his chest and they were only an inch apart. "I've checked in on her, and she's still fast asleep. I dinnae think she'd be waking up any time soon. She went late to bed last night, mind?" His lips twitched, and his eyes lit up. "Why are ye covering yersel', Sassenach?"

She scrunched up her nose. "I'm not. Umm, I'm done. I'll go prepare breakfast."

He barred her path, arching an eyebrow. "Are ye still worried about yer weight? We've talked about this before. Ye're perfect."

"No! No, it's not that ..."

"Ye've nae idea how beautiful ye are. But ye're no' going anywhere. No' just yet anyway." He uncrossed her arms and with his index finger, traced lazy circles around her sensitive nipple, making her catch her breath. Almost five years into their marriage, not much had changed with Jamie's art of seduction, and he always knew what buttons to push.

"Jamie! We have all the time in our holidays to do this. I still have a lot of stuff to prepare, and you know how long it takes to get Faith ready," she said lamely.

"Relax, mo chridhe," he whispered, his finger travelling down her abdomen. "Our bags are packed, and I'll take care of Faith when she wakes up."

She puffed a breath. "Are you sure it's alright to leave Faith behind? Shouldn't we be taking her with us on our holiday?" she asked, a fleeting concern settling in her belly. "I know she'll be with your parents, but she's never been separated from us since birth. I still think she's too young to be away from us."

"Ye overthink too much, Sassenach. Faith is four, and ye heard her last night. She's excited to spend time with ma and da. And ye ken how much wee Jamie and Maggie adores our Faith. She'll have fun in Lallybroch, and there's plenty of things for her to do there." Jamie had a point. With Jenny's children for a company and the abundant activities for youngsters in the village, Faith probably wouldn't even miss them.

She wanted a last-ditch effort to argue, but Jamie's wandering hands was making her brain fuzzy from hormones. Without conscious volition, her hands travelled up his chest, massaging his shoulders and then moving down to skim over his hard abs. She grinned when the skin underneath her touch quivered. There was probably nothing in this world and time that would make her resist his advances even if logic strived to surface, except of course if Faith decided to wake up and walk in on them. "Why do I even bother reasoning with you," she admitted, clasping his cock and fisting him with deliberate slowness underneath the spray of water.

"Aye, why do ye even bother when ye ken it makes sense. Ah, Christ ...that feels so good," he hissed, biting his lower lip. He suddenly jerked in her hands and muttered a string of curse. "We have plenty of time before the bairn wakes up. What do ye think about making a baby brother or sister for Faith ...ummm ... starting right now?"

Make babies. Make babies. The words ricocheted around in her head like ping-pong balls. Lately, that was all Jamie had in mind, always citing Faith's need to have a sibling to grow up and play with. It sounded so oddly sexy, it caused her veins to charge with electricity and ignite every corpuscle in her body. "Oh, I don't think I'll need that much convincing," she said provocatively.

Jamie lunged forward, a low roar of satisfaction vibrating from his chest, stopping just short before their bodies touched. His hands slapped the tiles above her head, his lips delivering the barest brush on her temple. He smiled before dropping his head further and kissing her deep and hard for the longest time. When her legs wobbled with the attempt to stay upright, his arm caught her by the waist and laughed. "Ach, Sassenach," he said choppily. "I've only just kissed ye, and that body of yers reacts like I'm touching ye for the first time. Ye're killing me here."

Trying to keep herself alert and straining her ears in case Faith woke up, was a challenge, but when it came to the act of foreplay and making love with Jamie, she always almost lost herself. He was holding himself only a hairsbreadth away from her, and yet her body was screaming to be touched. With a swallow, she placed the palms of her hands against Jamie's hard stomach and coasted them over the muscular curves. "You're torturing me," she breathed, starting to become frustrated with the ache in her core. "Did you bring the baby monitor?"

"Aye," Jamie whispered, straightening up and taking the sponge to soap her body with sweeping motions, before cleaning himself. Her senses became heightened from the spray of the shower, the warmth of the steam, and his expert hands as he caressed and touched her naked flesh. Slowly, he pushed her against the wall and knelt down on the tile floor, the water rushing over his head as he leaned in and brushed his lips to her intimate flesh. "Does this ever cease ...the wanting ye? Even though I'd made love to ye last night, I want ye again and again, and my fingers are always aching to touch ye."

"Oh, Jamie," she whimpered, sliding her fingers into his hair and guiding him closer. "Enough talk and touch me now."

"Ye're no' complaining about having a bit of time for a nooky now are ye?"

"N-no," she stuttered.

"No," he echoed on a groan, his finger sliding into her wet fold, causing her to suck in a shaky breath. "Mind, the better to serve ye, Sassenach."

"Damn it, Jamie!"

He moved his lips against her softness, his broad shoulders rising and falling, as he open-mouthed kissed the flesh enfolding her core, parting it with his tongue. His teeth brushed her nub gently, and Claire nearly hit the ceiling. Her response encouraged Jamie more, his fingertips digging into the flesh of her buttocks, drawing her lower body closer to his mouth. The firm, smooth slide of his tongue separated her flesh further and travelled over her nub in a leisurely lick. "So bloody responsive, ye drive me crazy."

Claire's head fell back on its own, her back curving away from the wall. "Oh, God, oh God ..." she babbled imploring gibberish, a scream beginning to build in her chest.

He hooked her leg over his shoulder as his other hand reached out to knead her breast, deft fingers pinching her nipple. When he began to suckle her nub more urgently this time, scruff brushing against her swollen bundle of nerves, she nearly lost it, making him chuckle. She glanced down at him beneath heavy lids as she pressed her hips closer to Jamie's mouth and writhed on his tongue, the sight of his arm busily fisting himself, making her see stars. Her stomach shuddered as her vision started to blur, the pressure bordering and coiling in her middle.

"Jamie ...please ..." she sobbed. "Inside me ...now."

He made a strangled noise and stood, his fingers sinking into her hair, to tug her head back and keep it still. Pressing their mouths together, his tongue plunged in for a deep kiss as his other hand cupped the juncture of her thighs, the pad of his thumb stroking her nub. When she began to whimper and thrash, he turned her around.

"Place yer hands against the wall," he commanded, hoarsely.

Her tummy dropped to the floor. Closing her eyes, she obeyed, her need intensifying a hundredfold as Jamie eased her legs apart. 

He shoved her wet curls to the side and nibbled her earlobe, his cock poised at her entrance. "In as much as I love to hear ye scream, Sassenach, we have to be really quiet," he muttered thickly.

She could only nod, her face hot, and her body shaking with anticipation. 

His tongue travelled down her neck as he moved his hand down between her thighs, his finger rubbing ever so lightly over her throbbing flesh.

She stiffened, her hips flexing of their own accord. "Oh God," she moaned. 

"Oh, aye." With one swift thrust, he took her from behind, his cock burying deep to the hilt, making her gasped and pushed back against him for more, torn between the need to feel his finger and the ache in her core for him to fill. He grunted with pleasure, pushing in and out of her with steady strokes, his fingers busily working her nub.

When his moves became more erratic, and his breathing shallow, his hold on her hips tightened, chanting her name under his breath. He took her with primal abandon, giving her everything he got, claiming her fully with each hard, deep stroke. Dropping his head, he bit her shoulder, his hips pounding hard behind her and one hand reaching up to cover her mouth.

Her body clenched underneath him, and she cried out in a muffled throaty gasp, the orgasm seizing her like an iron fist, waves after waves of pleasure washing over her and wracking her with tremors. When she shattered completely, he arched back and let out a low stifled roar, emptying his seed, jerking helplessly from his release.

Breathing hard, he held her tight, his hand kneading her breast and his hips slowing their movements. They stood like that for a long while, their breathing and heartbeats in synced, the shower beating down on them, relaxing their muscles. 

Finally, Jamie turned her around and kissed her on the forehead. "Christ, Sassenach, how did I ever survive ye?"

Claire laughed. "How about my legs? They feel like jelly."

"And my heart feels like it's going to burst. It's like that every time with ye."

"You're just sex crazy."

"Ach, ye bring it out of me," he grinned.

They were about to lock themselves into each others' embrace once more when the baby monitor crackled. They both stilled, and Jamie immediately turned off the shower. They heard Faith's voice. It was distant at first, kind of muffled, and then suddenly it turned into a shriek. "Mummy?!? Daddy?" She was outside their bathroom door.

Grinning, Claire gave Jamie an I-told-you-so look before stepping out of the shower. "I'm coming, sweetheart," she said in a sing-song voice before throwing Jamie a towel. After she'd quickly dried and wrapped herself in a bathrobe, she opened the bathroom door and closed it behind her. "Hello, darling. You're up early."

Faith's face was still flushed from sleep and almost matched the shade of her shoulder-length curls, the colour of a red deer's pelt as Jenny called it. She looked delightfully cosy and adorable in her pink flannel onesie and fluffy bunny slippers. "What are ye doing?" she asked, one hand clutching a teddy bear by the ear and another rubbing an eye. When Claire got down on her knees, Faith dropped her toy and held out her arms wide for a cuddle.

Smiling, Claire drew her in into an embrace, deeply inhaling her sweet baby smell. "I had a shower with daddy. He'll be out soon. Did you sleep well?"

Faith nodded as she laid her face on Claire's shoulder and began to suckle her thumb, making wet noises. 

Claire gently took Faith's hand from her mouth. "Don't do that, sweetheart; otherwise, you'll get buck teeth."

Faith pulled away and frowned, looking a lot like Jamie whenever his brows furrowed in concentration. "What's buck teeth?"

Claire made a funny face and made her upper front teeth overlap her lower lip. "Djis ish what bucschteeth look like."

Faith giggled, dramatically clutching her belly. "Ye're so funny, mummy."

Before Claire could respond, the bathroom door opened and Jamie came out in his bathrobe. "Is that my princess I hear?" he boomed.

Faith's blue eyes lit up, the sleepy look she had only a few seconds ago already evaporated to be replaced with excitement. "Daddy!" she shrieked, running towards him as if they hadn't seen each other for weeks when in fact, it was Jamie who tucked her into bed last night. 

Jamie stooped down and caught her with his hands. "Ooooff," he groaned when she crashed into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Ach, my princess is such a big lass already. Ye ken what today is?"

Faith leaned back to look into his eyes and nodded vigorously. "I'm staying with Granmaw and Granpa for a holiday."

"That's right. And have you made something for yer other grans in Oxford to take with us? Mind, mummy and I are going to visit them tomorrow."

"My English Granmaw and Granpa in heaven?"

Claire's heart expanded. Jamie had always made sure to include her parents' in Faith's bedtime story. It was imperative for him that their daughter knew of her English lineage and everything else about Claire's side of the family. It was something that touched Claire to the core whenever she was reminded of Jamie's story, visiting her parents' grave five years ago to ask her hand in marriage. It was one of those little things that made her love him more.

"Aye, that's right. So did ye make something?" 

"Aye and also for mummy's birthday."

"Wow, that's a lot," he said, winking at Claire, tucking a tongue in his cheek to tamp down the mirth that was obviously building up. "So, what did ye make?"

"I coloured some flowers," she replied, her lips adorably rolling and unrolling as she looked at her father.

Jamie's eyebrow arched, his eyes twinkling. "Aah, flowers. What sort of flowers?"

"The blue sort," she chirped, her wee hands clasping Jamie's face. "Wanna see it?"

"Aye, definitely. Will you go and get it for me, leanbh? We need to pack it in the suitcase." Jamie gently put her down and kissed her on the forehead. "And I have a pressie for ye ... it's somewhere in yer wardrobe in yer bedroom ...or perhaps under yer bed ...I cannae mind. If ye can find it, ye may open it."

Faith eye's widened and clapped her hands "A pressie, daddy?" She was already skipping out of their bedroom and down the hallway.

As soon as Faith disappeared, both sprung into action, Claire throwing a pair of sweatpants at Jamie and pulling a shirt from the wardrobe for him to wear. They laughed out loud when their eyes met across the bed, and they were still laughing when Faith skipped back into the room with her new toy puppy complete with a leash and her coloured artwork. "Whatsofunny?"

Jamie grinned as he put on a t-shirt. "Mummy did a trumpet."

Claire sputtered, glaring at Jamie. "I certainly did not!"

"Ye remember the rules for tooters, Faith?"

"Aye! Aye! Better to toot and bear the shame, than hold the toot and bear the pain!" she said, giggling, jumping up and down, dropping the toy and her artwork. 

"Good heavens, who taught you that?" Claire asked, looking down at her daughter in disbelief.

"Uncle Rabbie!" Faith shouted, still bouncing and laughing. "Mummy ye tooted. And daddy said ye always smell of flowers." She suddenly stilled and sobered up, her beautiful blue eyes growing big as saucers. "Did flowers come out, mummy?"

Jaime collapsed back onto the bed, doubled over with laughter and in stitches, and Faith took that as her cue to climb on top of him. He immediately grabbed her, tossing his daughter sideways and tickling her middle until she squealed.

Claire gave them a look of mock exasperation, inwardly smiling over being accused of flower fart, but both ignored her, father and daughter totally engrossed in each other's lovefest. They were always like this whenever they were together. And every time Jamie looked at Faith, his face was full of the divine, absorbing her as if she were springwater to his parched soul. At nightfall, when he tucked her to bed, he'd hold her like she was the most precious gift in the world, singing Gaelic songs, whispering endearments and promises of forever love. His daughter's presence always lit his eyes up with pure joy and love, just like now as if he still couldn't believe she was part of him. It was the most beautiful thing to witness, and it made her eyes well up every single time.

"Ye haven't told me yet if ye like yer pressie," Jamie asked Faith after their laughter had died down.

Faith rewarded him with a noisy smacker on the lips. "Thank ye, daddy, I love it. When do I get a real doggie?"

Jamie burst out laughing, and Claire cleared her throat to get his attention. Faith had always wanted a dog, and Jamie would've happily got one right away with the animal rescue centre not far from where they lived if they hadn't talked about this before. They knew the apartment was no place for a dog, especially when their daughter wanted a big one. "Mummy and I have been talking about having a dog. And we've figured, to have a dog, we need a bigger place to live in. So, I think after Christmas, we will start looking for a house with a big garden for ye and the doggie to play in."

A light pucker between Faith's brows appeared. "How many sleeps more 'til I get a doggie then?"

"Plenty of sleep, leanbh," Jamie sighed, gathering her into his arms and onto his lap. "That is why I bought ye the toy puppy so ye can have one to play with until we can get a real one."

"I love my toy puppy daddy, and I love you too."

"And I love ye," Jamie said, hugging her tight and giving her raspberry kisses on her neck, eliciting more peals of laughter.

Claire spoke past the lump in her throat. "Alright, that's enough, you two. How about waffles for breakfast?"

"Waffles!" Faith whooped, wriggling and slipping away from her father's hold. She ran out of the room, shouting waffles and something about chocolates. As soon as they were alone again, Jamie rose from the bed and padded towards her. 

"Happy?" he asked, drawing her into his arms.

She tipped her head up and smiled at him. "Very."

"Good. Ye get dress, and I'll prepare the batter for the waffles." Then he kissed her, slow and thorough, with a gentleness that made her heart sigh with pleasure.

"Icky!" Faith screeched, from the bedroom doorway.

Jamie grinned. "I'm glad ye think so, leanbh. Stay on that track for me until ye're thirty, aye?" With a wink, he took Faith's hand and headed towards the kitchen.

As Claire watched them go, all sorts of vision for the future rolled in. The past years hadn't been easy for all of them. Although she had gained her residency back at the Royal Infirmary back then and never questioned her own drive to succeed, she did worry that it would be challenging to balance her work with dreams of having a family. She'd hoped to start a family when she and Jamie had more control over their respective schedules, but things hadn't gone as planned. She became pregnant three months before she returned to clinical residency.

Adjusting from maternity leave back to clinical work felt like she was functioning like a robot. Claire had to wake up every two hours at night to feed her baby, and she was so dazed that she covered their apartment in post-it note reminders: bring the pump to work, the nipple protectors, the ice packs to keep the milk cold. 

Their hired nanny and help, Mrs Bugs may have been lovely and heaven-sent, but she couldn't shirk the guilt she felt spending twelve hours shifts away from her child. There had been mornings when she sat in her car crying because she didn't want to leave Faith, and Jamie had been helpless in consoling her since the rugby academy had had its own teething problems.

The last straw was when Faith had developed a fever. Mrs Bugs had been away for the weekend, Jamie inundated with his own work and Claire couldn't be late for her operating shift, but Faith's daycare wouldn't have accepted her if they knew she was sick. So she did what any desperate mothers would have done and got inventive - she slipped liquid Calpol into her bottle, in the hopes of lowering her temperature and dropped her off. Later that day, while performing a surgery, her eyes had continually checked the clock, willing the operation to finish in time for pickup. She'd prayed that the daycare wouldn't realise she was feverish. At that point, she felt like she was failing as a mother and as a resident, and she knew something had to give. She'd thought about quitting medicine a lot, but it wasn't in her nature. 

Between her career as a surgeon and her beautiful family, she'd chosen her family, and transferred back to The Royal Hospital for Sick Children to work as a part-time paediatrician. Part-time was putting it mildly since she still worked forty hours a week; nevertheless, it was better than her former sixty hours. Although she missed being a full-time surgeon, seeing Faith grow up had been worth the sacrifice. Now she had more time for her family and helping with the academy, and she'd be able to give Jamie the big family he wanted and create a home. She was more than happy with that.

"Mummy, mummy!"

And of course, with the academy running well and fully staffed and Faith in safe hands in Lallybroch while they go on a much needed holiday, she and Jamie would be able to spend time planning their future for a new home.

"Mummy?" Faith prompted again, tugging her hand until she got Claire's attention. "Can I have choccie sauce on my waffle? Daddy says to ask ye."

"That depends," Claire replied, tapping her freckled, button nose. "You can only have choccie sauce if you eat at least one fruit."

"Daddy is cutting apples." Faith snagged her hand and pulled her from the bedroom. "And he's making juice, coffee, waffles. No choccie sauce."

"Well let's go make some then," Claire said as they walked hand in hand in the kitchen, her daughter's excitement rubbing off on her.

They ate their breakfast animatedly, laughed out of sheer silliness and came up with new ideas for their new home, always including Faith in their conversation. When their daughter eventually passed out on the couch from her chocolate-induced hysteria, Claire cleaned up the kitchen while Jamie did a few business calls.

Life was good, she thought, and she couldn't wait to find their new family home and have their baby number two. She hoped and prayed it would happen very soon.

..........

Jamie paused in the kitchen, looking around. He was making sure they had everything they needed for their holiday and picking up things Faith might need in Lallybroch, like her Disney water bottle, plate and cutleries. Claire was giving Faith a bath, and Mrs Bug, who came to clean up the apartment once a week hadn't arrived yet. Every space in the apartment held the joyous clutter of two females. Glossy catalogues, colouring books and colourful magazines were lying scattered on the counter. There were traces of peanut butter cookies by the hob left by Faith which she wasn't supposed to eat after the chocolate sauce she'd already had for breakfast. There were two high-heeled shoes and one pair of pink glittered sneakers kicked underneath the table. A baby-blue unicorn with long hair and her new puppy toy took up two chairs. The scents of flowers and baby cream wafted in the air. A Cinderella lip balm and a bottle of red nail polish sat lined up neatly next to his expensive bottle of whisky and brandy.

His eyes burned as he poured himself a glass of water. He wasn't a man given to tears, but with everything going on in his life, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by how everything had been falling to place the last couple of years. They'd gotten used to setbacks, obstacles and problems that accompanied a new marriage, Claire's unplanned pregnancy and starting their own rugby academy. He couldn't believe they had come out unscathed and they were stronger as a unit more than ever when there had been many frustrations and fights. But having a solid family and friends for support and plenty of make-up sex helped to tide them over their difficulties. 

Since Claire had accepted his marriage proposal, his life had shifted. A lightness Jamie had never truly experienced before poured through him. It was as if by finally allowing himself to open up, he'd discovered new strength and happiness he'd been keeping himself from. Loving Claire hadn't been a choice because right from the beginning, even before they both realised or accepted it, she'd been his and he was hers. The overwhelming feeling of his need for her had outweighed the fear, and it went beyond physical. He'd craved her presence, her love, her heart, her character, her humour, her selflessness, her loyalty, and even her temper. He needed all of it. He hadn't been supposed to be the nervous one, but his brave Sassenach had enough nerves and strength for both of them when she'd decided to take her chance on him. For that, the love inside him had expanded to include a little darkness and a hell lot of possessiveness. They had always been there, ready to flow into the intense feelings Claire had stirred, but his instinct had risen up and set them free. And he would move heaven and earth to protect his family and make them happy.

 It had only been a year ago after Ned Gowan had brought forward more witnesses, was Forbes finally prosecuted for his other secret transgressions that had gone unpunished for years. The trials had been lengthy due to Forbes' ability to circumvent the law and connection to the best lawyers. After Forbes had been arrested for spiking Jamie's drink, Ned knew it was only a matter of time before he was released on parole or bribed someone for his acquittal. Ned Gowan's resilience, ingenuity and resourcefulness coupled with the investigative skills of the reporters Rupert and Angus helped in keeping Forbes in jail. To this day, there were still more victims coming forward, suppressed by years of threats of scandal. Jamie could now rest at ease, knowing Forbes wouldn't be able to hurt his academy nor his family with false stories as his business had been reduced tremendously to recompense his victims.

Tamping down the emotions threatening to overflow, he set down his glass in the sink and picked up the pile of mail. Sifting through, he studied a doctor's envelope inscribed to Claire. He was about to put it down when the letter fell out of it. The envelope hadn't been sealed properly. Curious, he unfolded it. It was regarding the doctor's findings on Claire's discomfort on the side of her abdomen. When the pain had begun, she'd self-diagnosed having a kidney infection. She'd refused to take antibiotics until she was sure her self diagnosis was accurate. So she'd arranged a urinalysis for herself and submitted it to the lab for routine testing.

To his relief, the kidney infection she'd suspected came out negative, but there was more, so he browsed through the medical vernaculars until his eyes settled on something that made more sense. His heart stopped. Slowly he reread it, the words jumping out of the letter to blast him full force. Claire might not have a kidney infection, but she was two months pregnant. Fierce satisfaction uncurled, and he began to laugh. Too bad, his Sassenach wouldn't be able to enjoy a glass of bubbly when they share the news to his family later.

"Daddy? Whatsofunny?"

Jamie looked down at his daughter's flushed face, her hair done up in pig-tails and dressed in a jumpsuit romper and pink sweatshirt. He knelt down in front of her and smiled. "I'm happy, leanbh, that's why I'm laughing. Can I ask ye something?"

Faith nodded and moved closer, her eyes widening in anticipation as she waited with bated breaths.

"What do ye think about having a baby brother or sister sometime in the near future?"

She shrugged, her little shoulder touching her ear. "I want a doggie more, but a baby is nice too."

"Weel, how about if I say, ye can have both once we moved to a bigger house."

"Okay. I can have the doggie and ye, the baby."

Jamie's chest shook with silent laughter. "That's a deal." He got up and patted her wee bottom. "Go and find mummy then so we can go to see yer grans." 

Happy with their conversation, Faith dashed off to find Claire. He couldn't wait to see his wife's face when she finally learned of her pregnancy.

..........

Claire snorted and shook the paper in front of her. "You call that journalism? How do the reporters get away with printing such rubbish as news?"

They had just finished lunch, and they were all sat around the long family table in Lallybroch while the children played in the living room watched over by Jenny and his parents.

Uncle Lamb worriedly glanced at Claire as his brother Rabbie stood up and peered over her shoulder. "Mmmm, the cameraman is to blame. Taken at a wrong angle, ye look peely-wally there, Claire."

Nowadays it was seldom to find Jamie's name in the gossip columns of the local papers unless it had something to do with his academy. The first time his wedding had made it to the news, it had been a shock to many and speculations had been rife all across the social media. Some even citing that Claire had trapped him into marriage with Frank Randall's child. Busy with their own respective work, Jamie and Claire had been able to ignore the gossips, and eventually, the stories, that had been mostly exaggerated, died a natural death. But now and again, someone would recognise them on the street and take a photo, just like one of Claire coming out of a grocery store which somehow made it in today's news. The headline described Claire looking sombre and wondered if there was trouble in the Fraser marriage.

Rabbie was right though. Claire looked pale in the photo. It must have something to do with her pregnancy. He sort of suspected she was pregnant already even before he read that urinalysis result earlier. He'd always kept track of her menstrual cycle and the changes in her body and moods. But when he'd mentioned about missing her period earlier this month, Claire had simply put it down to the excitement of their upcoming holiday.

Jamie ignored the funny tingle in his gut and reminded himself not to announce their news without consulting his wife first. He needed to make an effort tamping down his excitement.

Willie signalled Rabbie to pour Claire a glass of Chablis and slid it across the table to her. "Here, Claire, have a sip of this."

Jamie immediately grabbed the wine glass causing Claire to glare at him. To his relief, she didn't try to retrieve it back.

"And look at this," she exclaimed, a finger jabbing at the black-and-white print of news. "They're claiming I've let myself go and that I look fat."

Jamie's legs started to bounce under the table. "Sassenach, ye said so yersel '...what those so-called journalists write is rubbish. Why are ye getting so worked up? It never bothered ye before."

Claire glowered and pursed her lips. "It's the body shaming I don't like. It's unfair to us women. We're expected to have babies and still look like a model at the end of it. It's this sort of writing that makes women go to extreme lengths to look good even if they're doing more harm than good to their bodies."

He gave her a sympathetic look and reached out for her hand. "I understand, Sassenach but readers have to take responsibility for what they read. If people believe everything that is ever written in print without questioning it, they only have themselves to blame."

"I guess you're right," she grumbled. "I should know better by now."

"Hey, Claire," Rabbie butted in. "If it's any consolation to ye, my mates think ye're lush. Ye'd give any lassies in their early twenties a run for their money. And ye're smart too, to boot."

Jamie frowned at his younger brother. "I hope ye mentioned to them she's married to me."

"Jamie!" Claire snapped. "Stop acting like a caveman!"

Instead of his usual smart retort, Rabbie got up and disappeared into the kitchen.

"See what you've done?" Claire pointed out.

"Ach, Jamie, everyone kens Claire's with ye," Willie sighed. "Ye make sure of that all the time, piddling a boundary around her."

"Exactly!" Claire shot, looking at her husband. "Why Jamie does that, I have no idea. It's as if he can't trust me."

Jamie's eyes widened, too dumbfounded to say anything.  Uh-oh! What's happening to wifey? This is not how are day suppose to turn out.

Geillis, who had been quiet the whole time browsing through the family's album with uncle Lamb, gave Claire a funny look.

Claire noticed. "What?"

Geillis looked at uncle Lamb, shrugged and continued to flip the pages. "Mood swing much, Claire? First, ye're giggly throughout lunch, and now ye're mardy and snappy."

Claire looked at Joe, waiting for him to say something. But Joe only raised his hands as if pleading ignorance. "LJ seems fine to me."

Snapping the album shut, Geillis glared at Joe. "She's not fine, and it's alright not to be fine." And then she turned her attention to Claire. "So what's up with ye? Have ye eaten something that didnae agree with ye ...like a whole watermelon?"

Jamie choked and sputtered the wine he was drinking, and Willie began to thump him on the back. "What the fuck, Jamie?"

Before anyone could react, Rabbie reappeared at the table with a plate of white chocolate cheesecake drizzled with raspberry sauce. 

Immediately, his wife perked up. 

"Here, Claire, I ken ye like cheesecake," Rabbie offered after he'd slice a piece for her.

Jamie glowered at his brother, who always seemed to come out the good guy despite his cheekiness.

"Thank you, that's sweet," Claire smiled, unaware of the tension she'd created with her hormone-induced mood. "You're a star."

"Ye're welcome," Rabbie replied, launching Jamie a haughty look. 

Jenny peeked her head out of the kitchen. "Hey, Claire, do you want to try the tiramisu? I made it earlier with a bit of my own twist."

"No!" The moment Jamie shouted the word, he wished the floor would open up and swallow him in one whole. Everyone, including his wife, was staring at him with incredulity. "W-weel ..." he stammered, feeling the heat on the tips of his ears. "Tiramisu has raw eggs in it."

"And??" Everyone said all at once.

Uncle Lamb peered over the paper Claire was reading only a while ago and shook his head. "With all the information at your disposal and floating around the internet, I'm still surprised you kids still don't get it. Claire's pregnant."

Everyone stopped. Gaped. Jamie was relieved his wife's pregnancy was out, and it didn't come from him.

A big grin transformed Geillis' features. "I knew it!"

"I'm pregnant?" Claire smiled, her face turning angelic once more. "How did you know?" she asked Uncle Lamb.

Quentin folded the paper and sighed. "You're moody and Jamie's acting strange. Either yer hormones is rubbing off on your husband, or he knows about your pregnancy. Simple as that."

His wife gave him a questioning look, and Jamie had no choice but to get up from his chair and take Claire's hand. He excused themselves from their family and friends and tugged her into the kitchen. Once alone, he took her into his arms.

"We're pregnant, mo chridhe," he whispered and explained about the letter from earlier.

After Jamie was done, he stroked her hair while Claire tried to absorb the information.

When she finally spoke, she lifted her head and gifted him with a beautiful smile. "I can't believe you found out I'm pregnant before I did and I'm a doctor. Nothing is or would ever be conventional with us, is it Jamie?"

"I wouldnae ken what's conventional or no', but one thing I ken I wouldnae trade what we have for anything in the world. Ye're a funny lass, and I'm a complicated man, but our hearts are in the right place every single time when it comes to loving each other," he said gruffly. 

The low sun coming from the window caught the sheen in her eyes. "I suppose that's true and what we have between us is impossible to express at times. It's real, and it's humungous, and sometimes the magnitude of it creates imperfections. I embrace those imperfections because they mean I get to love the most wonderful man I know."

"And I get to be the luckiest bastard on earth. Look at what we've got, Sassenach," he said quietly, brushing a kiss across her forehead. "We've got everything. We have Faith and another baby on the way."

"Everything and much more," she breathed.

He leaned in and kissed her lips, lingering a moment before repeating the pledge he'd made on their wedding day and every day since. "You and me and our family, in it together."

"Forever and ever."

 The End

[undertalethingems]

Bark at the Moon Chapter 10: Dissonance

<Previous / Next>

Or read on my Ao3>

Rating, Setting: Gen, Pre-canon

Chapter Warnings: None

Chapter Summary: Papyrus is ready to go home. Undyne knows he can’t.

Papyrus tapped his tail impatiently against the cavern floor. Undyne was running late again, and he was tired of waiting. Not just for her, today, but of all of this--holding himself back and being held back by his state. People missed him! He was tired of being cooped up! He hated not being able to help! Original body or not, he wanted to rejoin society, not hide from it. He wasn't sure he'd go by the same name--if it came to it, he was Parchment, Papyrus' distant but nearly identical and no less handsome cousin, coming to look after the house while he was away. Why he hadn't thought of such a brilliant idea sooner, he wasn't sure, and he'd almost be disappointed if he couldn't put it to use.

But he wanted to run it by Undyne first--a key part of it was her reintroducing him. No one would attack him if she were right there! He wasn't sure why anyone would attack him to begin with, but if things really were that bad... well, better to be safe. And then he could work to keep everyone safe, finally proving himself! He couldn't wait for Undyne to return so he could relay his flawless plan.

In the meantime, he'd busied himself with charcoal drawings or worked through the puzzles in the latest edition of the Snowdin newspaper--come now, they'd published that same puzzle six months ago! He did his best to not remember the answers and complete it, but someone had dropped the ball. He released his frustrations by gleefully shredding the rest of the paper, then settled down to read one of his books until Undyne got done with her shift.

He perked up when her faint footsteps echoed up the passage, and hurried to pack up his things before waiting at the entrance eagerly. Today was the day! He would finally, maybe, actually think about not hiding anymore!

"Well hey punk, ready to go, huh?" Undyne said when she emerged, giving him the slightest noogie. He noted she looked tired.

"Yes! When we get back, I would like to discuss something--but, how goes the investigation? Any new developments?"

Undyne turned to head back, and he followed along as she spoke. "It's gotten worse. At first people were only getting a little scraped up, but a couple days ago someone lost half their HP to an attack. The weird thing is, no one's seen the perpetrator at all--not even their bullets so we can narrow down who it is..."

Papyrus furrowed his brow. "And you're sure I can't help?"

Undyne's face hardened. "Yes."

"But my observational skills are unparalleled! And in this form, I have a sense of smell at least as good as any of the dogs, and agility and speed and--"

"No," Undyne stated. "Not with the town on high alert for anything they don't recognize. Did you ever meet Gyftrot? They got attacked the other day by the bear family, and they're just kind of a recluse. I'm not letting you go out into that."

Papyrus grit his teeth. "But I'd be with you! And if I'm with you then I'm a friend! I wanted to wait until we were at your house but I have a plan--"

Undyne whirled on him. "NO. The Guard is handling this!"

"And I am going to be on the Guard!" he barked back, stamping his forefeet down.

Undyne froze, her expression tight before she spun to march down the hall. "You need more training."

Papyrus watched her for a moment, then leapt to keep up, steadying his breathing. "And this is a perfect hands-on experience! It's not a human, otherwise you'd be much more excited, so it must be some poor monster who's lost their way and needs guidance! And I am the best at guiding!"

"It's not that!"

"I'm confused. I can't help because I need more training... but that's not why I can't help?"

"Ugh, don't worry about it. Come on, let's just relax for the rest of the evening," Undyne huffed, marching off again. "We'll talk about it later."

Papyrus watched her go, a lot of thoughts he didn't like swirling in his skull. He wanted, more than anything, to trust Undyne. She was trying to look out for him, he knew that--but only a few days ago she had more or less called him a puppy, and now said he needed more training. She always said that, every time he'd asked. He was getting the sense... she didn't think he could handle the responsibility.

Well, he needed to prove he was responsible! Somehow! He needed to...

He needed to stop hiding. To stop holding himself back--though, he always would in battle. Always, even if Undyne never understood. He was always going to be himself, and if she didn't think that was good enough... then she was missing out. And he had to stand up for himself.

It was scary, though. What if she ended up not liking him, or didn't want to be his friend anymore? Then, his friend quantity would drop down... well, even closer to zero than it usually was. He didn't usually count Sans, but now... he didn't even have him. Lost in thought, he tripped over the uneven ground, and Undyne looked back at him.

"You okay?"

"Yes! I am, as always, great!"

"Hah, glad to hear it. Not much farther now."

They rounded the corner, and the sight of Undyne's house filled Papyrus with a sudden dread. He stopped in his tracks, staring at it as realization dawned on him. He'd traded one prison for another. What was the difference if he stayed in his house, Undyne's house, or the chamber he hid out in while she was gone? No matter how much room one had over the other... he was just doing the same thing over and over again.

"Papyrus?"

He bolted, running in the other direction. He couldn't do it anymore, he had to--

Ping!

Green soul magic locked him in place, and he whirled to snarl at her.

"Hey!" she barked, baring her own teeth. "Cut it out! What do you think you're doing?!"

Papyrus' voice wanted to come out rough--he was just so frustrated--but he shut his eyes and waited until he'd calmed down. He cleared his throat and put on a bright smile to address her. "I just remembered it's been a long time since I checked my profile on the Undernet. I probably have a lot of new likes and friend requests to accept!"

To say that Undyne didn't look convinced didn't seem to cover it.

"Plus! Maybe Sans is home! And I know no one's vacuumed since I left, do you really expect him to do it? The house is probably a total wreck!"

Somehow, her disbelief deepened.

"Please Undyne. I want to go home, just for a little bit. I don't care if anyone sees me anymore--your confidence training worked! No doubt because I was already confident!"

Now she just looked sad. She sighed, and pinched her brows. "I'm sorry Papyrus. I know you want to--and that's great you're not worried about people seeing you anymore! That's awesome! But... Like I told you. There's a lot going on in Snowdin right now, and it's dangerous for someone who won't..."

"Won't what?"

Undyne glowered, and looked away. "Nevermind."

"Won't what, Undyne? If there's something I need to do to for you to let me go, I'll do it! Just like I'll do anything to get into the Guard!"

Undyne grit her teeth, then shut her eye and jammed her spear into the ground with a grunt. "... That's the thing. You WON'T do it. It's the one thing I could never GET you to. You always had some--some reason against it, some dumb logic I could never let you go into battle with!"

Papyrus stood stiffly, and it had nothing to do with Undyne's spell. Was she saying what he thought she...?

"I'm sorry, Papyrus. I never told you, because I didn't want to upset you. But... I can never let you join the Royal Guard."

Papyrus stared at her. "What?"

She winced. "I can't. You're... you're too nice, too cheerful--even if your life depended on it, you'd... you'd never finish a human off. Even though you KNOW everyone is counting on that soul."

Papyrus quivered. "...We don't have to kill them."

"You want to be free, don't you?" Undyne shot with a snarl. "What do you think we should do, just--wait for however long it takes for them to die naturally? Keep everyone--all your friends, you, me, the whole kingdom--trapped down here for decades when we could have it instantly?!"

"I--" Papyrus halted--then buckled down. He was going to do this. "Yes. I'll make friends with them, and we'll have a very nice time together until their life comes to an end. If they really like us, they will be happy to know their soul will continue their very cool friend's happiness even after they're gone! Isn't that better than killing someone who doesn't even deserve it?"

Undyne growled. "They're a human! They ALL deserve it! Joining the Royal Guard is accepting that we are at WAR with humanity, NOT making friends with them! And THAT'S why I can't let you in. You'll... you'll just get torn to pieces. I'm sorry, Papyrus. But I can't."

Papyrus clenched his jaw. "...Okay."

Undyne blinked at him. "...Okay?"

"I should have seen it coming, really." He really wasn't surprised. "But it's fine! I'll just find something else to form my entire personality around!"

Undyne flinched. "Listen--you really are strong--don't think that I think you're not. But... you don't have the right mindset for the Guard. If it helps... we... can still do cooking lessons and spar together and stuff. I don't wanna stop being friends. But... we can't be coworkers too."

Well, at least he had that. "I'm glad! But! I really would like to go home... and since it's not a human, I don't need to worry about hurting anyone! So it's fine! Really!"

"It's NOT fine!" Undyne insisted, sweeping her hand. "I can't let you go when the WHOLE FREAKIN' TOWN is looking for--"

"Howdy!" Flowey popped up between them, and narrowly missed getting hit by a spear. "Hey!"

"Sorry," Undyne, said quickly. "Um. Can I help you?"

"Well, I'm sure sorry to interrupt, but I thought you should know... that guy you were looking for? Whatsisface, Sand?"

"Sans?!" Papyrus supplied, excitement barely contained.

"Yeah! I heard he's back!" Flowey continued. "Seems like he's looking for someone too... um... Paper?"

Papyrus uttered a weird, sharp chirp. He looked to Undyne desperately, and she looked from him back to Flowey.

"Uh. Alright, well, we'll check in on him shortly. Thank you."

"No problem! See ya!"

And just like that, he'd disappeared back into the earth. Papyrus vibrated in place. This had been an incredibly welcome interruption.

"Please! There's no excuse now! We have to go, I have to see him!"

Undyne sighed and dropped her magic at last. "Yeah, okay. Let me get my armor on, and you have to stay by me at ALL T--"

But Papyrus was already gone.