#alec won't shut up

[schmweed]

[zodiyack]

Little Loner

Pairing(s): Jace Wayland x fem!reader

Warnings: clary being jealous but then cupid??, I wrote this while sleep deprived, fluff at the end, Clary x Simon if you squint.

Words: 1,743

Author's Note: I finally finished the requests. Now have some drafts while I work on sequels and stuff <3

Masterlist | The Mortal Instruments Masterlist

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read it,  @simonsbluee,  @thewarriorprincessxo,  @sebastianstanslefteyebrow,  @livlaughquinn,  @bubsonnobx,  @bunnyweasley23

Jace leads Clary to Hodge, but hesitates when he sees an open door. He finds himself pausing to admire the scene, leaning on the door frame with a crooked smile. Clary moves to get a better view and is confused.

A girl sits in a windowsill, her pencil hitting the paper lightly as she sketches out the scenery outside the window. The light appears to angle just right, giving her an almost angelic presence. Black runes cover her skin, some disappearing to hide under her clothes.

Clary leans over to Alec and whispers. "Who is that?"

Alec simply nods a little. "Y/N. Jace has a thing for her, but he's never acted on it." Clary feels her heart break a little. "Shame, really. She likes him too, but they're both too stubborn to be the one to confess."

"Oh..."

"My advice," Alec looks between her and the room, "stay away from Jace."

He moves on before she can ask much else, walking along the halls and calling to Jace quietly. Jace is brought back to reality as he gives one last look into the room before venturing on.

"So, Y/N..." Clary tries.

She doesn't miss when Jace blushes slightly, "another Shadowhunter. She's been here a long time, however she really only talks to me."

"Why's that?"

He chuckles a little but shakes his head. "That's none of my business to tell. She's a great person when you get to know her though." That's all the information he gives before they reach their destination. He opens the door and gestures inside with a nod.

His expression stays neutral, stoic as he explains, "You may find Hodge a little eccentric, but he's one of the greatest Shadowhunters that's ever lived." He looks down at the cloth in her hand and his brows furrow. "Here, give me that."

She walks inside of the giant room, her body and eyes exploring. The two boys walk in after her. They watch her carefully. Despite her distance, Clary can still hear Jace and Alec by the door.

"Don't lead this one on while you pursue your little loner. You'll get her hopes up, and if she decides to stay...the rune to fix a broken heart is the most painful one." She could practically feel Jace roll his eyes.

"I'm not leading her on."

"Oh? Is that so? Because I don't normally go around flirting and being handsy with random people, Jace." Alec warned. "It's obvious, the way Clary looks at you. I'd tone down your 'lack of leading her on' before she gets the wrong idea."

The doors shut suddenly, causing Clary to flinch, and Alec storms off down the hall, leaving Jace to think over his words. The more he thought about it, the more he tried to deny it.

Jace opens the door, "The Silent Brothers are ready for her."

When Clary and Jace set off for their next location, she noticed a new companion had replaced Alec. It was the girl from before. The girl that Jace liked.

"I didn't expect you to be joining us..." She tries to make conversation, but Y/N barely acknowledges her.

"I admire your attempt, but she won't talk. Not unless she's comfortable with you." Jace smiles at the girl in question, who smiles to herself but stays quiet.

"How long would that take?"

"Patience is a virtue, Clary." Jokes Jace. "I suppose I was the first person who ever really tried, so there's not much to go off of. She's coming with us because I asked her too."

The redheaded girl can't help but glance between the two every now and then. She isn't sure whether she feels jealous or wants them to be together, but she can say one thing for sure; The tension was nauseatingly strong.

"Why didn't Hodge come with us?"

"He hasn't left the institute in years." Jace shrugs as he continues walking. "Some say it's a spell."

"He's agoraphobic." Y/N giggles at Clary's bluntness, leading to the ginger giving her a small smile. One she returned. They stop and turn, Jace crossing his arms while he waits.

"Is that him?" Clary asks.

Jace follows her gaze and shakes his head. "No, that's Harold, the groundskeeper." He tilts his head, leaning in a bit, "that's him."

She looks up a little and feels a small shiver of unease crawl up her spine. A comforting hand is felt on her shoulder, and she's met with Y/N's smile when she turns her head. The action leaves her wondering how obvious her discomfort was, but she still is thankful.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Clary looks to the two as though asking for help, but nods regardless. "We will help you to remember."

The trio follow the tall robed man, Clary a little more hesitant. Y/N turns, kind smile still standing, and lifts a finger to the middle of her lips. Clary nods and follows behind.

Along the way she trips, "Ow!"

Jace turns his head instantly, shushing her. "You'll wake the dead."

Clary rolls her eyes. She catches Y/N giving her an apologetic shrug, the girl nodding with her head to continue.

"I can't believe this place is just outside of the city..."

She follows the duo to the window like ledge they looked through. Jace's voice catches her off guard, "Welcome to the City of Bones." His breath is right next to her ear, sending her hairs to stand on their ends.

"This is where the Silent Brothers draw their power, from the bones and ashes of Shadowhunters."

"All of them are buried here?"

"Yes." Jace looks to the wall, "One day," he taps a skull, making Y/N giggle, the sound eliciting a smile to slide upon his pink lips, "that's gonna be me."

Clary stops to look at the skeleton. Sensing her unease, Y/N urges her forward with a light touch. Clary stops a few steps forward, inspecting the room from entryway.

"This is as far as we go." She looks at Jace, and he assures her, "You'll be fine."

"So you've done this before?"

Y/N and Jace exchange a glance. She dawns an apologetic look as shakes her head and Jace replies, "No."

Clary decides to continue to try and talk to Y/N, "Have you ever met Magnus Bane?"

The girl only shakes her head.

"You know... I'm quite jealous of you." Clary admits with a laugh. Y/N tilts her head in confusion, prompting Clary to continue. "I thought Jace was into me, and if I'm being honest, I'm really into him but... I'd be stupid to stand in your guys' way."

Her brows furrow, even more confused than before. Clary's hopes range from high to doubtful, there's a chance Alec was wrong, that she didn't have feelings for him, but she saw the way the two looked at each other. She might've been naïve and clouded in her conflicting feelings, but she wasn't blind.

"Jace likes you too. And honestly...you should go for it." She looks away, ashamed of her own assistance in helping the guy she liked be with someone else. However, she doesn't have time to mope, when a voice she hasn't heard before causes her to snap her eyes back to Y/N's face.

"Is it that obvious?" A shy expression, laced with a little embarrassment, greets her.

"You-"

"I talk, yes." She chuckles. "Jace wasn't lying. I mostly talk to him, but after I realized my feelings for him, I started to confide in Alec. My only problem was that I didn't realize Alec also had feelings for Jace... But, Alec saw how much I love Jace, and told me that he had found interest in someone else. Whether that's true or not, I don't know, but, my feelings for Jace have always been around since then. I'm just...not too sure what to do about it."

Clary nods understandingly, and places her hand atop Y/N's. "Talk to him."

Y/N thinks about it for moment, and then nods. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can we talk?" Jace turns, nodding when he realizes it's Y/N. The blond looks around the infirmary, making sure Simon and Clary are accounted for one more time before he returns to facing her. He follows her to the study, sitting beside her on the piano seat.

"What's wrong?"

Her fingers press into the keys, a slow recollection of a piece by Bach. "It's nothing... I spoke to Clary-'

"You talked to Clary?" Y/N giggles at his dumbfounded expression. "M'sorry, that just caught me a little off-guard, you don't normally talk to anyone else."

"That's fair. Basically, she gave me some advice to a problem I have, not that I asked her for it- she actually noticed it- anyways, after Simon and the vampires and everything- I guess- my point is, Jace..."

"Yes?" His eyes were laced with concern, no longer amused by her sudden socializing.

"I like you. Like, really really like like you." She bit her lip. "Like...I'm in love with you."

Y/N stared at Jace, waiting for his answer. She grew nervous as time started to feel slower. The seconds felt like they were snail's paced, so close yet so far away. Sweat dripped down her forehead and her heartbeat rang in her ears. It was all so overwhelming until-

"I'm in love with you too."

"You what?"

Jace smiled shyly. "I'm in love with you too. I've been for a long time now." His eyes trace over her lips, the distance between them closing gradually. He hovers above her lips when his eyes meet hers again.

It's all in slow motion and superspeed at the same time. She lets go of control and lets her instincts take the reigns. Her lips crash into his and he lets out a surprised groan. Their eyes both close as they kiss one another, their lips partaking in a dance they somehow know. By the time they pull apart, they're out of breath and their eyes are blown.

"How long?"

She blinks. "Pardon?"

"How long have you been waiting to do that?"

"If I'm being honest, a month or so after we met. What about you?" Y/N giggles.

"Since we first met."

Clary leans against the door, heart half broken and half full, yet content with herself. Maybe she should look into what Simon's benefits are.

[liyawritesss]

ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ, ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ

Characters: MCU!Shuri Udaku x!Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 11.8k

Synopsis: It’s your sister’s 25th birthday, and she invited you over for the extravagant birthday bash. However, there’s only one problem. Shuri has never met your family. She also isn’t aware of their past mistreatment of you. So when your parents begin to make jabs at you on what is supposed to be a joyous event, Shuri might have to apologize to your sister for what is to come next.

Warnings: cursing, mentions of verbal + physical abuse, mentions of severe anxiety, a very angry Shuri shuts shit down, shitty parents, dysfunctional family dynamics

A/N: So....this came about after watching a clip of Love & Hip Hop ATL, where in the clip one of the guys on the show was confronting his mother about the mistreatment and neglect he got as a kid and how his mother took all her frustrations out on him when he had nothing to do with what she was going through. That video touched exceptionally close to home so I wanted to writing for such an event but with Shuri, as I think for someone who is quite family oriented (or who appears to be), she would definitely have a few choice words to say to parents like that. Plus, I wanted to provide comfort to those going through similar situations as teenagers and young adults with their own parents. So I hope that this brings comfort to some of you, as it has done to me when writing it.

Song Suggestions: "Naked" & "Everything" by Ella Mai, "Let Me Down Slowly" by Alec Benjamin ft. Alessia Cara, "Let It Go" by James Bay, "Losin' Control" by Russ, "Control" by Zoe Wees, "You're Not Here" by Cynthia Erivo, "You Let Me Down" by Alessia Cara

Tags: @6-noir @playhousedistee @shuririsdefenseattorney @shuriszn @venusdraco @wrendermedone @writingintheshadowsforever @mbakuetshurisprincess @verachii @slytherin-34 @the_lesbian-fangirl @h34rtsformilli @strangefishflapturtle @cuddl3s4shur1 @shuriislut @dejaonline @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @inmyheadimobsessed @aaliyg @cafehyunji @chunkybabygorl @rosielovesfamily @lulu-network @nichole-224 @niyahwrites @lppriceisright @blacksapphhicmaddonna @pantherheart @marsfunzon22

Note: there are some of you that for some reason tumblr won't let me tag, so I apologize in advance.

Sign Up For My Taglist Here!

The closer you were to pulling up to your sister’s home, the harder it was becoming for you to breathe.

It wasn’t like you were ignorant enough to believe you could escape this.  You’d always known, deep down inside, that one day, you’d have to face them again. Yet, here you were, tucked into the smooth tan leather of Shuri’s car, hiding the fact that you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, and your girlfriend to the left of you filled with positive anticipation to meet your family.

Your sister, Alex, was turning twenty-five today. It is a big celebration for your bloodline, and though much of the original purpose of the celebration had been lost due to oral passing, the general belief was that the lucky lady who’d survive to her twenty-fifth birthday was to be guaranteed a long, fulfilling life.

Of course your sister would have a long, fulfilling life. Alex was a woman of greatness. She’d worked hard in school, got into an amazing college, met a handsome guy who she’d married as soon as she landed her first official big-girl job at some law firm in your home city. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Alex was guaranteed for greatness.

Alex was…perfect.

You didn’t want to go. As much as you knew it would have hurt her to not have her sister at her side for her big day, Alex would’ve understood. You never liked the elaborate, extravagant lifestyle. You were a simple girl with simple pleasures, who led a simple life and wanted nothing more than to live simply.

Though, that seems contradictory, since about a year ago, you found yourself gaining the attention and affections of the very Queen of Wakanda. How you managed that feat, you would never know.

It was Shuri who had found the invitation. She was visiting you during an monthly check up at one of the outreach facilities posted in your town, when she had inevitably seen the pretty invitation sitting on your kitchen island. It was all written in cursive, no doubt the product of your sister’s perfect penmanship, and most of all, it was addressed to you and Shuri.

You’d only told Alex of your relationship after the six month mark. You wanted to be certain that such a relationship would last; though, now that you thought back on it, what good would it have done Shuri to play you? Her intentions and integrity were clear the first day she had introduced herself to you. She’d never given you any reason to not trust her, and yet, you had still doubted her. It was a period of time you regretted most, and yet, Shuri still loved you. And in realizing that she would continue to do so, even after seeing the ugly parts of you, you allowed yourself to truly love her back.

Shuri was ecstatic to go. She wanted to meet your sister in person, having only ever seen each other through video calls and communicated through text. And with Shuri’s pretty brown doe-eyes that had always been a weakness to you, you couldn’t say no.

And now, here you were, gripping the door handle tightly as you released tight breathes, wondering if it would have been beneficial to sit Shuri down and tell her the reason why your eyes showed a glimpse of dread when she’d picked up that invitation.

“Darling?” The Queen’s voice cuts through the cloudiness that fogs your brain, grounding you in a way only her honey-laced voice could do. “Are you alright?”

No, you want to say, turn the car around, take me home. I don’t want to go there-

“Yeah, just a bit tired.”

Shuri looks at you quizzingly. You have not been acting as yourself since the day she’d stopped by your apartment. Since, she’d been trying to pinpoint the cause, but to no avail. Even after a year together, she still found you hard to read sometimes. It was endearing to her, a challenge she greatly accepted as part of the packaged deal that came with your relationship. 

However, she couldn’t deny that this time, things felt…different.

There’s a melodic beeping that comes from the vehicle, and the red flashing on the dash panel alerts Shuri that the car is running out of gas. And not a second later, a familiar voice speaks from the surround-sound speakers:

Panther, the vehicle is reaching low fuel. It would be wise to refuel soon. There is a petrol station approximately ten miles ahead. Fuel here is priced at four ninety-seven per gallon.

“Thank you, Griot,” Shuri hums, turning to you, “we shall stop there. Fill up on gas and get some snacks. You haven’t eaten much today, my love.”

Though you fix your lips to protest Shuri’s ever so keen observation, the way her hand slips over your thigh, her open palm meeting your skin through the large hole in your ripped jeans, it’s almost enough to have you relent. “I did eat; at breakfast.”

“Which was eight hours ago,” Shuri reminds you, “almost nine, once we arrive at your sisters. I’m sure there will still be room for the food if you just have one bag of chips to hold you over.”

You hate how well Shuri knows you. It makes it hard to hide things with her keen perception and observation skills. Though, you suppose those traits all come with the territory of being The Black Panther.

A sigh escapes your lips, and the lack of a reply worries Shuri. Yet, she does not push. Instead, her thumb continues to swipe in soothing strokes along the smooth skin of your thigh as she continues to drive to the designated gas station.

All of five minutes pass until it comes into view. When Shuri parks at one of the gas lanes, she fishes into her pocket for her wallet. From it she produces a black card, and hands it to you. “Fifty should bring it back up,” the Queen says, “and a bag of chips for you should do the same.”

“Shuri, I said I’m fine-”

“Darling.” Shuri’s tone is firm, yet gentle, and leaves no room for argument. So all you can do is press a kiss to her cheek - a practice routine of mundane intimacy that brings you both pleasure - before exiting the car and walking towards the entrance of the gas station.

Shuri sits back in her seat, a sigh pushing past her lips. She’s not quite sure what to make of your behavior.

In the year that the two of you have been dating, never once did you bring up the topic of your family. Shuri didn’t even know you had a sister until six months ago. Alex reminded her much of Nakia in some sense - powerful and self made, and in that regard, she was glad that you had some semblance of family you could reach out to.

Your parents, however, were another story. A story you had well avoided, and as of recently as a few months ago, downright refused to talk about. It became quite clear that it was a touchy subject for you, so Shuri didn’t pry. However, she could not deny that part of her grew…heated, at the unpleasant thoughts that plagued her mind when it came to the reason for the non-existent relationship between you and them.

“Griot.”

“Yes, Panther?”

“What were my beloved’s vitals during the ride?”

A beat passes, as Griot computes.

“(Y/N)’s heart rate had been jumping from one hundred forty-five to one hundred seventy beats per minute. Her grip on the door was strong enough to break a thin glass cup. It appears (Y/N) was on the verge of an anxiety attack, but had been fighting it off for the duration of your journey.”

Shuri curses under her breath, more or less to herself at the information that had been relayed to her. 

“She has been on edge all morning,” Shuri says aloud, “I did not ask, for fear of triggering her, but I cannot allow her to feel threatened.”

Shuri knows your triggers like the back of her hand. She’s learned to speak in a level tone to avoid startlement; she’s learned to make her presence known when entering your space; and most importantly, she reassures you, letting you know each and every day how much she loves you, how much she treasure your existence in her life, and how she vows to hold your heart with the utmost care in the world.

Shuri is the smartest person in the world, and yet, she cannot decipher the reason behind her lover’s heightened emotions. If it weren’t for the fact that she was focused on figuring out why you were like this, and how to calm you down, she’d surely find the thought embarrassing.

“Might I speak freely, Panther?”

A hum rumbles from Shuri’s throat as a sign for the artificial intelligence to continue.

“(Y/N)’s vitals have been heighted since one week ago,” Griot points out, “around the same time she had received the invitation to her sister’s birthday party. It would be safe to assume that these two instances have a correlation with one another.”

  “You are insinuating that Alex’s birthday party is somehow the cause of my love’s anxiety spiking?”

“Perhaps not the party, but rather, who will be there, Panther.”

Silence fills the car as Shuri takes in the information given to her. Though, she doesn’t have much to think on it, as she spots your figure exiting the sticker-covered glass door of the gas station, a black plastic bag in hand, of which she hopes holds the snacks she had requested of you to get for yourself. She exits the car and takes hold of the gas nozzle, opening up the tiny door and unscrewing the protection cap, and slots the nozzle into the car to fill with fuel.

A few moments pass before Shuri returns to the car, having placed the nozzle back in it’s place and secured the gas compartment. Her black card rests on the arm rest, which she slips back into her wallet as the corner of her eyes catches you with something in your hand - something that’s not a bag of chips.

“I thought I told you chips, darling?” Shuri asks as she starts up the car again.

“I got chips!” You respond. “I wanted a Twix, too.”

Your free hand fishes into the black plastic back to produce a bottle of water for Shuri, slotting it into the cup holder.

“What is this?” Shuri asks, gesturing to the water bottle.

“You were thirsty,” You point out.

Shuri indeed was thirsty. She can’t help the smile that paints her lips soon after, taking the water bottle into her hand, unscrewing the cap, and taking a swig of the water.

“Are you sure you’re alright, my love?” Shuri asks once more after setting the water back down, preparing to put the car into motion.

To busy chewing on the cookie-chocolate-caramel treat, you opt for nodding your head, a short ‘mhm’ to accompany it.

As much as Shuri wanted to question further, she knew nothing would come of it. So she slips her hand back onto your thigh, presses down on the gas, and rolls out of the gas station, the conversation with Griot filing back into her mind as she drives down the long strip of highway.

“My parents are gonna come.”

You’d said it the second Shuri had parked into the driveway of your sister’s home. With each second that passed on the way there, your chest kept growing tighter and tighter. You thought that maybe if you focused on Shuri’s touch on you, or her low singing voice when Tems starts to flood the car with her hypnotic, warm and swelling voice, that maybe you would be able to calm down and not worry her. It usually worked, but perhaps because this instance was due to the fact that you would be seeing your parents for the first time in years, what was usually the cure for your attacks did very little to help.

Shuri pauses as the words leave your lips, and for a moment, it looks as if she is cross. And while she has every right to be, you hope that it isn’t at you.

You should have told her before the two of you left, as you thought to do. It plagued your mind when you were in the shower, when you were fixing your hair, when you were choosing your outfit. And Shuri had been in the same apartment with you the entire time. You had ample enough time to tell her and yet…you didn’t. You couldn’t.

You know Shuri. She would try to remain calm and collected for you, to not show her anger, because of course she would be angry either way. The car ride would have been in silence, the air thickening with each mile crossed from one city to the other. But you would know that she was upset. She should be upset now because you just dropped this bomb on her and-

“Beloved,” the Queen mutters to you, bringing you from your thoughts once more, “look at me.”

Your head turns to face Shuri. She’s put the car into park, one arm leaning on the arm rest, the other reaching over to soothe your nerves by caressing your outer thigh. She looks at you with a softness that relieves some of the pressure on your chest stunting your breathing. Her gaze tells you that she is not cross with you.

“Hey,” she says, “I am not upset with you.” And the reassurance helps you unclench the fists your hands have balled into.

She doesn’t speak again until she’s certain that your breathing has evened out, as opposed to the harsh and forced inhale-exhale pattern from before. “Is there…anything I should know?”

You tear your eyes away, but Shuri’s gaze remains firm. Consistency is key, she’s learned, when it comes to you confiding in her. Her eyes are your safe space, you will return to them. And you do, after a short moment, trying to gather your mind together.

“They’re not nice people,” you confess, eyes hesitantly returning to hers, “they’ll try and woo you and shit, but don’t fall for it. They ain’t shit.”

“Okay,” Shuri hums, “and…is there anything I can do? For you?”

“Um,” a shaky breath racks through your throat, as you speak, “they’re not here now. Alex texted me that, so I should be fine, but when they get here…j-just, don’t leave me alone.”

“I will not leave you alone.” Shuri assures. Her hand gathers yours into hers, your palms rendered chilly from cold sweat. “I promise.”

Gathering your hands into hers, Shuri brings them to her lips and presses a kiss to them. She then reaches over to press a kiss to your lips, of which you reciprocate gladly.

“Thank you for talking to me about this,” the Queen commends, “and telling me how to best take care of you. I know it is not easy-”

“I hate it-” you correct, which brings a grin to Shuri’s lips and a chuckle from her throat, because yes, she knows you hate it.

“-but you are doing it, and I am very proud of you for it.”

It’s sincere, Shuri’s praise. It’s still not easy for you to digest it, but you know her love is not transactional, conditional. She means what she says, and you know her love for you is unconditional and unyielding. 

She loves you. 

She is proud of you.

The pressure on your chest becomes lighter.

Upon exiting the car, you’re approached by your sister, Alex, who had seen the two of you pull into the driveway and wanted to be the first person you’d engage with. You’re not shocked when you see her eyes glassy looking - it’s been years since you two last saw each other face to face.

Alex is hesitant when approaching you - she wants to envelop you in the most bone-crushing hug she can muster, because she misses you and it has been so long since she’d held her baby sister. Though all it takes is for you to outstretch your arms to her, and Alex embraces you in the way she had been dreaming of.

“Oh, mama,” Alex breathes as she pulls away to get a better look at you. You notice the youthfulness in her face and the life in her eyes. She looks happy, “look at you. All grown up. My baby sissy is all grown ‘nd shit.”

It’s heartfelt, her words, and they make you smile. Alex turns to look at Shuri, who’s chosen to stand to the side to witness the sisterly reunion without interrupting. “And you have a girlfriend? You have to tell me how this happened.”

“By complete accident,” you say, as Shuri steps up. Her hand presses into the small of your back, encouraging you while she holds the other out to greet Alex officially, “but I guess anything can happen when you spill coffee on someone in the middle of a morning rush.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Alex.” Shuri says.

Alex shakes Shuri’s hand, and the Queen notes the hesitance in the older sister's movements. “Well, it’s not every day you meet the queen of a country. Much less, a queen of a country that’s also my sister’s girlfriend.”

“Well, I hope not to bring too much excitement with my titles,” says Shuri, “I am more than alright with being just Shuri.”

She sincerely hoped that she could just remain Shuri. For if a situation arises that she would have to act in the manner of either of her titles - Queen or Black Panther - she could not promise that the birthday celebration would remain a splendor.

An hour passes before either of you know it. You’ve found entertainment amongst the younger cousins who all gawk at your girlfriend, who sits not too far away. Shuri has a cup of punch in hand as she watches you chase the children around the yard, a small smile on her lips. It’s as if you are reliving a part of your childhood you’ve missed, the way you seem so content with the children. It all but warms her heart.

“So,” Alex’s voice interrupts Shuri’s not so discreet admiration of her girlfriend, nearly making the Queen jump, “you and my sister?”

“Ah,” Shuri breathes, looking down into her cup as a rush of heat travels up her dark skin, “me and your sister.”

“I’m not gonna go into the whole interrogation thing, grilling you on if you’re treating her right,” Alex says, “I see how you look at her. If that ain’t the look of someone in love, then I’on know what is.”

Shuri chuckles at that, because she knows that Alex’s observations are true. In fact she has no idea just how correct her observation is.

Shuri leans forward in her seat, elbows propped up on her knees as she finds your figure amidst the mess of kids once again. Her necklace dangles from her neck, the gold contrasting against her black tee that nearly meets the fabric of her ripped blue jeans with her hunched over position.

“(Y/N) is…the ray of sunlight one sees after a long, dark night,” the Queen hums fondly, “and had I known my gods would send me such a woman, I would have prepared myself better.”

Alex smiles warmly. She can tell the strong connection between you and Shuri is pure and unadulterated. It warms her heart beyond comparison.

“Thank you for coming, truly,” Alex says, “I was almost worried she wouldn’t, since our parents would be here and everything.”

And at the mention of them, Shuri finds her jaw tightening just the slightest.

“Your parents?” Shuri is beginning to put two and two together, and she doesn’t like the outcome that is unfolding from her assumptions, however careful they are.

“I…assume she’s told you about them?” Alex implies.

Shuri shakes her head lightly, taking a sip of her semi-forgotten punch. “I find myself piecing the picture together on my own…She does not talk about them.”

“That isn’t a surprise,” Alex says, “given…well, everything.”

Shuri turns her head to look at Alex. Her eyes are firm, inquisitive; Alex’s words have sparked an interest in Shuri.

”She says they aren’t good people. Is that true?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Alex replies, “to the community, their saints. To us they’re just….people.”

Shuri notes the hint of solemness that laces Alex’s voice as she speaks. “They weren’t good to either of us…but they were especially bad to (Y/N).” Alex clarifies. “You know what they say; hurt people, hurt people.”

Not when the person is your child, Shuri thinks, but keeps to herself, taking another sip of her punch. Things are starting to make sense now, and Shuri finds that perhaps she will also have to have you at her side to ground her whenever your parents decide to show up.

“So you mean to tell me you got yourself stuck in a tree, and then got angry because she tried to help you get down?”

“I was not stuck! I was admiring the view.”

“Sure you were…with tears coming down your face.”

“I think this classifies as bullying-”

Shuri had grown quite comfortable as the next hour passed. More of your family had begun to show up, a number of aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, and cousins wishing Alex a happy birthday as they passed through the foyer of her house and into the backyard. Shuri couldn’t count the amount of gasps she’d heard when their eyes fell upon her, sat comfortably in the outdoor gazebo, her presence obviously a surprise to the many relatives who had come to celebrate the special birthday girl. Much more, the fact that she had you close to her side as she greeted them.

The behavior of your family members irked her. Shuri suspected that Alex had talked to each of the adults to assure that they’d be on their best behavior for the occasion, given the tight smiles and curt greetings between each of them and you. Or perhaps it was because of her own intimidating presence next to you, and the fact that she wasn’t even trying to hide the look in her eyes as she analyzed each adult that seemed to pass through.

“Babe,” you cleared your throat, “stop looking like that, you’re scaring them.”

“Looking like what?”

“Like you’re contemplating murder.”

Would it have been so bad if she was, though?

Shuri sighs as she places the red solo cup she had been nursing for a while onto the table. “Just behave, for Alex-”

“I am behaving for you,” the queen clarifies, “and your sister would say the same.”

Unable to comment any further, you released an exhale through the nose, sinking back into Shuri’s side.

“It’s guilt, y’know.” You try to reason, but Shuri had already considered that route. Perhaps there were a few who did have a guilty conscience. Shuri didn’t find herself caring if that was true or not. “They’re not bad.”

“Beloved-”

“Shuri.”

“-I am merely observing,” she says, “I promise.”

Of course Shuri was only observing. Observing the behavior of each adult family member. How they acted towards you. How very little regard was given to you. How, with the amount of bodies that have accumulated in the backyard, the gazebo area remained relatively desolate, beside the two of you, Alex, and Alex’s black and white spotted cat, who had made a home on the red painted banister.

Sure. Shuri was just observing. Definitely not questioning anything at all. Definitely not formulating words she would say to your parents if they decided to make themselves an issue.

“I’m gonna go get a shot,” you say, before propping yourself up with your hands and lifting from the cushion of the outdoor couch, “you want a refill?”

You take Shuri’s cup before she officially gives you a response. You needed a way out, to move around so that the beating in your chest could quell.

Inside there isn’t much of a party scene - it's practically empty besides a teenage family member fighting their sleep on the couch while watching an infant in the living room. The music from outside is muffled when you enter the house, and you take the time to admire the mahogany walls and deep maroon floors of the home. You could compare it to the childhood home you’ve grown up in, and you think that perhaps this was Alex’s way of healing. Recreating your shared childhood environment in a more peaceful manner.

You find the kitchen quite easily, rounding the kitchen island in pursuit of the adult punch purposefully left inside so that the underaged family members wouldn’t get it confused with the family friendly punch that rested in a big glass bowl on the party table outside. On the counter is an array of liquor choices, from fruit flavored tequila to everyone's favorite, Hennessy. You weren’t a drinker, but this far into the party, you needed some sort of incentive to get you to relax a little bit.

Once you’ve chosen your choice of liquor, you take a red solo cup, pour what you deemed to be a shot's worth, and downed it in one gulp. The burn in your throat definitely woke your senses, of which you were grateful for.

On your way towards the kitchen doorway, Shuri’s refilled solo cup in hand, the sound of familiar voices drifted to your ears from the foyer, and it made you stop dead in your tracks. 

“Happy birthday baby!”

“Happy birthday, babygirl.”

“Oh, look at you, all grown up-”

It took everything in you to not drop the cup in your hand at the sound of your parents making their presence known. You backed into the kitchen again, your back finding a nearby wall to ground yourself with. Your chest began to tighten, a tight lump forming in your throat, and in that moment, your hand fished for your phone in your back pocket to text Shuri.

Kitchen. Now.

There was a light shake in your hands. You hated how just the mere sound of their voices sent you into a spiral; how much of an influence they still had on you after trying so hard to separate yourself from them. Then they had the nerve  to act pleasant.

There was a growing ringing in your ears, accompanied with the muffling of surrounding noise that made you breathe harder as you tried to stabilize yourself from the very apparent anxiety attack that was waiting to crash into you. You couldn’t decipher if it was the same one from before that you had fended off by sheer will, or if this was a new, more powerful one. However, when the smell of patchouli made its way to your nose, the thought of it became seconded.

“Hey,” Shuri whispered, one hand running the length of your arm, the other taking the cup from your hand that was seconds away from meeting the floor, and settling it onto the kitchen island, “hey, I am right here.”

“They’re out there, Shuri.” You breathe out.

Something shifts in Shuri’s eyes, and you can’t quite tell what it was, but the way her grip on you tightens in the ever so slightest way lets you know she’s thinking something.

“We can leave, beloved,” Shuri begins, but you’re quick to cut her off with a shake of your head.

“No,” you say, swallowing thickly, “I can’t leave, it’s Alex’s birthday-”

“Alex will understand, love; would she really want you to risk your own self for her?”

I’ve done it for years, the little girl in you voices tiredly, what’s another evening of it?

Shuri never wants to be forceful with you. She knows you’re your own woman and can make your own decisions, even if they go against her better judgment, even if they hurt you. Which is why, against every logical bone in her body, she proposes a compromise.

“Three chances,” Shuri says, “three chances is all they have. Then we will leave. How does that sound?”

Knowing Shuri, she’ll want to throw hands at the first encounter. It was endearing, really, how hard she went for you. The extent of such craze was never explored, simply because she was always calm, cool and collected. There was a part of you that always wondered  the extent of it as well.

And, in hindsight, you weren’t wrong about her.

Shuri peaks from the kitchen doorway and into the foyer, seeing Alex still entertaining the two adults, their backs turned towards the Queen, which gave her the incentive to leave while the trio were occupied.

She mutters a quick ‘let’s go’ with a gentle smile, and after a few seconds, you nod. Your hand finds her, tightly interlocking your fingers as Shuri pulls you back to the backyard gazebo. Shuri had no idea the depths she was about to breach in the layers of your estranged family, but whatever the case may be, she will not let you face it alone.

It was almost the perfect getaway, too, but apparently Shuri wasn’t fast enough in getting you out of the house. She heard the matured voice of your mother call out to you, asking if it was her other daughter, and Shuri supposed that it wasn’t meant to be taken in a demeaning way, but the queen certainly did. Perhaps it was predisposed biases, perhaps it was intentional. Either way, Shuri would make sure to take as much of the burden off you as she could.

“Mom,” you say, jaws tight, but Shuri stands close behind you, a hand on your waist, and it stabilizes you, “good to see you.”

The older woman, short in stature, with wide hips and thick arms, saw Shuri standing behind you, but whether or not she didn’t address her because she didn’t recognize the queen or because she simply didn’t care couldn’t be deciphered. “Come give me a hug-!”

“I’m good,” you hurriedly said, “just- uh, not feeling well.”

“Don’t be like that,” the deep, bolstering voice of your father chimed in; a large man with an intimidating physique. Shuri was not phased, her arm only snaked it’s way around your waist, “give your mama a hug, lil’ girl-”

“I said I’m good.” You reiterate more firmly, though there was an added incentive to clear your throat shortly afterwards to make your fib more believable. “Really; I know how easy it is for y’all to get sick.”

There was a moment of pause - and exchange of glances and a shift in energy before a light ‘humph’ came from your mother’s throat. “Well, I suppose that makes sense,” she snooted, “and I suppose that’s why your friend there is the exception-?”

“Girlfriend, actually,” Shuri interrupts, though it wasn’t planned, and surely wasn’t expected, “it is one of many perks of being the Black Panther. I do not succumb to normal colds and illnesses as easily.”

The pads of Shuri’s fingers press into your side as she steps beside you; she’s now side to side with you, face your parents with a high chin and a look you were sure she’d only pulled out when in front of important people - or people who she suspected would try to intimidate her, yet she’d still have to play nice for publicity purposes.

“Allow me to introduce myself formally,” Shuri said, holding out her hand for your mother to take; the shorter woman did just so as Shuri spoke again, “I am Queen Shuri to my people, but for tonight's festivities, I would like to remain just Shuri.”

“A queen?” Your mother breathes out in an amused chuckle, though you couldn’t tell if it was in actual amusement or in disbelief. “Well, perhaps we did do something right with her, hm, honey?”

Strike one.

Shuri’s hand then reaches out to your father, who stares at the long, brown arm outstretched before him for a moment, before taking one of his thick, meaty hands, and shaking Shuri’s tinier one. Though, the look on his face when the queen’s grip strengthened around his hand was enough to tell you his surprise and lack of proper judgment on the brown-skinned woman.

“Got a…firm grip for a lil’ lady.” He says.

“Well,” Shuri begins as she slips her hand from your fathers, “my baba and big brother always said a firm hand makes a firm leader.”

“Well, wise men they were.”

There was much to observe in the few words shared between Shuri and your parents. Your father hid very well behind the facade of a pleasant man of few words. Perhaps he was sculpted that way, by your mother or by his own parents; either one didn’t matter, only that the end result was a man with a weaker grip than the elders she held council with, and they were pushing their latter years of nineties and hundreds. Your parents looked to be in their mid-forties.

Your mother…Shuri admits that she wished her own were still alive, for the words she knew Ramonda would have for this short-stack of a woman would be more lethal than any weapon produced by her own hands. Condescension laced in her voice with a familiar tone of jealousy that she’d heard and witnessed many black mothers having towards their own daughters. It wasn’t hard to tell, Shuri thought, but perhaps when enough people ignore such a dangerous thing, the ugly nature becomes a tolerable norm.

“Well, if you will excuse us,” says the queen, “I’m going to take my beloved to sit down. She is in much need of rest.”

Shuri did not give your parents time to react, nor to object to the sudden ending to the conversation. She’d quickly pivoted your body around and walked back outside to the gazebo, a firm hand on your back and a ticking clock in her head for when the next strike would come.

Sure enough, Shuri did not have to wait long for that second strike. 

After getting you back to the gazebo to take a seat, on the verge of hyperventilating from the amount of anxiety the back and forth gave you, despite the fact that you weren’t even the one talking, Alex had come with a look of disdain. Your parents were in tow, as they claimed to want to ‘have a sit down and reconnect’. Of course, Shuri didn’t buy into that bullshit. Neither did Alex. And surely, neither did you.

And yet, neither you nor Alex yet had the courage to send them off, and Shuri, keeping herself in check, had no other choice but to allow them to sit with the three of you. So now you were tucked into Shuri’s side, phone in hand as a distraction, while Alex sat on a beige-cushioned chair to your left, and your parents in a similar-fashioned loveseat to the queen’s right.

Alex was kind enough to hide her discomfort in nervous laughs and meek agreements as your mother and father raved on about your childhoods. Specifically, the accomplishments of Alex, which would have been understandable as it was her birthday, if it didn’t have to include the ‘disappointments’ of yours they had to bring into the light.

“Remember the speech competition your grammar school had, Lexi-Pooh,” your mother chimed, using the youthful nickname Alex very physically cringed over, “you won your first ever trophy then at eight years old! Oh, we were so proud of you-”

“Mom, everyone got a trophy,” Alex reminded, putting emphasis on the word ‘everyone’ as she spared a glance your way, “we were babies, and it was a participation trophy. They just didn’t want us to be left out.”

“Well, still, my baby had the best poem on that stage!”

“Mom, I literally stole that poem off the internet.” Alex reasons.

“Yeah, off DeviantArt no less,” you speak with a chuckle, remembering the nights your sister scoured the internet for a poem to read because she, for the life of her, couldn’t write her own. Which she couldn’t be faulted for, she was in third grade after all.

Alex shares a small laugh as well. “If anyone should have won that competition, it should’ve been (Y/N),” She says. “All the teachers swore up and down she was gonna be the next Lorraine Hansberry or Audre Lorde. I bet you she got some bars hidden somewhere.”

Your mother could only hum in response; “Well, we can’t all be winners, I guess.”

There was a familiar sting that ached your heart. Despite how used you were to such rhetoric coming from your mother, it didn’t make the twang in your heart any less hurtful.

“You never liked that kinda stuff anyway, (Y/N),” your mother says, “so why did you join it-”

“I do like writing,” you say sharply, “and I wanted to be like my sister. Who doesn’t wanna be like their older sister at seven years old?”

You glanced up from your phone to look between the three people sitting before you. Alex shifts in her seat, uncomfortably, slightly shaking her head as she knows what is to come.

“Or were you just so busy with your perfect princess that you ain’t have time to learn me?”

“(Y/N)!” Your mother scolds, and you feel the protective arm of Shuri’s curl around you in defense. “Hush your mouth with them lies, girl!”

Your father remains silent, as he’s always done when your mother gets this way, and Shuri sees this, and takes note of it.

“I swear, I don’t know where we went wrong with you,” your mother huffs, “lost yo’ damn manners and mind talkin’ like that.”

Your mother then turns to Shuri, sporting an apologetic look, though it is not sincere, and merely a coverup for her own outburst. “Now I know your mother taught you well and good, Shuri, about how to talk to people and behave-”

“My mother is dead.” 

There is an inevitable shift in the conversation now, one that brings the eyes to Shuri as a deafening silence befalls the gazebo. Even you rise from your curled position into Shuri’s side to eye her demeanor, checking over her form to note any changes that came with the sudden mention of her mother. Yet, she is calm and collected, her eyes showing no shifts and her demeanor intact. All seemed well…on the surface, at least.

“My mother is dead, may she be at peace with the ancestors,” Shuri says, “and she is incomparable. I do not wish to speak further of her.”

A beat passes. Your hand travels to Shuri’s leg, providing a comforting touch to the woman beside you. You weren’t ignorant to the news of her family’s passing - since her father’s death, you’d had a semblance of understanding the inner turmoil she had endured. With her brother and mother gone, she was virtually alone - save for a sister-like figure and a nephew she’d only told you a little bit about in the past few months or so.

You wanted to say something, but your mother beat you to it - this time, she actually sounded somewhat apologetic for her ignorance.

“My condolences,” the woman mutters softly, clearing her throat, “I only meant that she must have had it easy raising you. You’re so well put together and polite, if only some of that would rub off on (Y/N)!”

Strike two.

“Mom, stop it,” Alex interrupts, voice firm with a scowl on her face, “you doin’ a lil’ too much now.” 

“Now, your mama ain’t said nun’ wrong,” your father suddenly speaks, who had been quite the entire conversation, but suddenly decided to stick up for his woman who was clearly in the wrong, “it’s just ladies spat, y’all know how y’all do.”

“And like I said before y’all got here, I don’t want it in my house.” Alex emphasizes. “If that’s the type of time y’all on, the door is very clearly marked with an obnoxiously pink birthday banner. Period.”

There was a small swell of pride in your chest for Alex as she set her foot down to your parents. She was determined to have them behave; she wanted a classy, friendly party for her birthday celebration. Though, she would know just as well as you that even when being put in place, the audacity of your parent’s always found itself back into trouble.

Your mother mumbled out an apology, along with something along the lines of ‘got me apologizing to my child’ under her breath as well, before you cleared your throat in an attempt to cut through the tension.

“Shuri, baby,” you hummed, “don’t we have something for Alex? In the car?”

Shuri turned to look at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed, before she officially caught on to what you were insinuating.

“Yes,” the queen breathes out with a small smile, “we do have something in the car. For the birthday girl.”

Alex, too, shares the same look Shuri previously sported, with furrowed eyebrows and confusion written on her face. “M-Me? Something for me?”

“Of course!” Shuri answers. “Surely you did not think we would show up empty handed?”

Shuri’s hand rests on your leg, both as a reminder of her very physical presence as a grounding for herself, “How foolish of me to forget. I do not know what I would do without you, my darling.”

Shuri stands, offering her hand to you as well, adding on how she will need your help to retrieve it, before escorting you from the gazebo. While on your way to exit the yard, Shuri can hear Alex giving your parents a further scolding, which makes the queen smile mischievously.

It wasn’t a complete lie for escape, however. Shuri was nice enough to buy a gift for your sister for her birthday, though it wasn’t anything massive, and despite your constant jokes of it, wasn’t a pair of kimoyo earrings (though, from Alex’s birthday outfit, she could tell that she was a jewelry girl, and a pair of earrings probably would have sufficed better).

“I’m starting to understand why you never told me about your parents,” Shuri says in a breathless scoff, pressing a button on her beads to pop open the trunk of her car, “infuriating doesn’t even begin to describe them.”

“Are you okay?” You ask in all seriousness. “The..comment about your mom, I mean.”

How could you be worried of her feelings when she’d just had to watch your mother berate you in front of her? Shuri wonders this as she turns from the open trunk of the car to face you again. Though, she supposes that from that interaction, you were more used to centering others and their emotions than yourself. Although it caused an ache in her heart, the revelation made sense of previous actions between the two of you.

“What I said was true,” the queen replies, “though I admit, perhaps there was a bite in my tongue.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t curse her out.”

“Well…I do have a promise to keep to Alex.” Shuri says in a soft laugh. “I do not want to be the cause of her birthday being ruined. Your parents are making it fairly hard to do that, however.”

Shuri closes the trunk of the car, the tiny bag holding Alex’s gift inside being set on top of it as the queen leans against the sleek black vehicle. She invites you into her embrace, pulling you between her legs and resting her hands on your hips; yours make their way onto her shoulders, a weak smile on your face.

“That’s two strikes by my count.”

“I know.”

“We have yet to even make it to dinner.”

“I know.”

“What do you want to do, beloved?”

I don’t know anymore, you think, this is all just too much.

“Let’s…stay.”

Part of you was reluctant to leave due to wanting to experience your sister’s birthday with her. You’d all but promised that you’d come to enjoy yourself with Shuri, even if your parents made that hard. But there was also an inkling of pettiness inside of you that wanted to show the assholes your parents were to the rest of your family members (who, while had suspicions of their weird behaviors and holier-than-thou rhetoric, would rather not engage in family drama to keep peace amongst the ranks). 

“I’m not letting them get the better of me,” you add on, “today is for Alex. And if they wanna make it a problem, it can be a problem.”

The look on Shuri’s face was a mix of shock and pride; she hadn’t expected you to say that, and if she were being honest with herself, she was secretly anticipating such a moment to occur. Perhaps because it would give her a chance to release the pent up frustrations that had collected within her due to your parents actions; perhaps it was because seeing you stand your ground had always been an attractive sight to her. Regardless, the small smile that spread across her face was a reflection of her hopefulness.

“One more chance, then?”

“Hopefully they make it count.”

Shuri remembers how she used to dislike family dinners.

The prospect of eating with her family irked her at a young age. Though she loved her parents and her brother dearly, her teenage self was far too absorbed in her technological advances to actively partake in the family tradition. She’d taken such a routine for granted, and now, the dinner table in the large palace she called home was barren. She barely ate there anymore, consumed by the regret of not making such precious moments a priority in her youth.

As she sits next to you at the elongated party table with the rest of your family members, she notes the same air of barrenness, but not of presence of people. It is a barrenness of love.

The behavior of certain family members began to change as the night progressed. Despite the lingering glares of your family members, many aunts and uncles approached you again, expressing their joy in seeing your presence. Perhaps it was truly the guilt that you mentioned earlier, how these extended family members were subject to the bystander syndrome, and hadn’t known how to deal with their guilty consciences for whatever reason. Perhaps these people did genuinely want to reconnect with their long lost niece, cousin, auntie. Shuri would never admit it aloud to anyone, but seeing the look of distaste upon your parents face was entertaining to say the least.

“So do you drive a space ship everywhere you go?” One of your many nephews asked the queen out of curiosity, big brown eyes and white bucked-teeth shining with glee, as he’d never seen anyone of her status before.

“Not everywhere,” Shuri answers, “only the far away places.”

“Do you go to other planets? Like Mars? Or Pluto?”

“Hmm,” the queen thinks, “I don’t think I have. I shall put that on my books and tell you about it upon my return. How does that sound, little one?”

“Awesome!”

Seeing Shuri interact with the younger children eased your tense body and racing mind. She was almost a natural with them, it seemed. You leaned into her side, your cheek squishing against her shoulder with a playful huff. “Can I have my girlfriend back, please? You’ve been askin’ her questions since we got to the table.”

“Nu-uh!” Objects the little boy. “Have not!”

“Have too, lil’ boy,” you reject, “now gon’ eat so your mama don’t yell at you.”

“Can we talk about spaceships after dinner then, Auntie Shuri?”

Shuri wasn’t sure if she should adhere to the new term, having only known the child for an hour or so, but to entertain him, she allowed it. “Sure. We can talk about spaceships after dinner.”

Thankfully, the young boy seemed to be satisfied with the compromise, and began to eat his plate of food. Shuri turns to you with an amused grin, eyebrows raised as she asks “Were you jealous of your own nephew?”

“I can be jealous if I want to,” you pout, bottom lip tucked out in protest, “lil’ shit was taking you away from me.”

Shuri laughs at your banter, both glad that you’ve somewhat relaxed, and that the evening seemed to be going well. She hoped that it would stay like this.

The clinking of metal to glass caught her attention, as well as the other partygoers. Looking towards the head of the table, Alex is standing, grasping the attention of everyone in order to speak.

“Now, we all know the reason today is such an important day, aside from the fact that it’s my birthday,” Alex begins, glancing around the table, making eye contact with each individual, “though some of the kids might not know. And since we have a newcomer with us,” she says, gesturing to Shuri, who returns a nod of acknowledgement as she speaks, “I figured now is as good of a time to talk about why we celebrate the twenty-fifth birthday of the girls in our family.”

Alex sets the glass down, clears her throat, and speaks again. “Now the story has never been written down, but anyone who has sat between Nana and Great Nana’s legs to get their hair done will know the story by heart. A generation or so before them, our family had a ‘curse’ on us girls. One of our enslaved ancestors was forced to ‘engage’ with their owner who desired a mixed child. That ancestor cursed our bloodline so that no girls would survive, and slowly our numbers began to dwindle.”

You always loved to hear this story. You were never sure why, but it had always been more than hair braiding entertainment to keep a child's attention. The raw history that your grandmother and great-grandmother passed down your line of lineage always held a special place in your heart.

“Then one thing lead to another, a generation passes, and a girl is born…and she lives old enough to run away with another slave guy she fell in love with. And that ancestor had Great Nana, who had Nana, who had mom and the aunties…who had us.”

You’d been sitting to Alex’s right when she extended her hand to you to hold. You accepted it with a warm smile. She’d done the same to your mother as well.

“Reaching twenty-five is like a right of passage. Guarantees to a long, fulfilling life. And that is what we celebrate tonight.”

There were a series of claps, cheers, whoops and hollers that erupted from the table, coming from the queen herself as well. It was indeed a remarkable retelling, she thought, and she even noticed the way that Alex posed herself as a bridge between you and your mother. She applauded the woman for still trying to reconcile, but knew that there was no hope for such a feat.

As soon as Alex sat down, your mother took a stand. “I’d like to make a toast as well.”

Shuri felt you lean just a little bit closer to her. 

“My baby, oh, what can I even say?” Your mother begins, striking up a face of pride. “You were perfect since the day I first laid eyes on you. I knew you’d be destined for greatness, and I can’t be any more proud of you than I am now. My baby girl is all grown up, and I can’t wait to see more of the outstanding woman you’ve become…”

Another round of applause echoes throughout the backyard, and Shuri breathes. Though she doesn’t trust your mother one bit, the words that came from her mouth seemed very genuine-

“...and you are more than fit to carry on this tradition. My only daughter that can.”

-nevermind.

The distant crickets could be heard as your mother took her seat again, seemingly proud of her little stunt. Perhaps she thought it was something good to say, but neither you, Alex, or Shuri saw the need for the ending.

“That ending wasn’t needed, but thank you.” Alex says through gritted teeth, a sigh leaving her lips. It was much like the older woman to need the last word, and although Alex truly hoped she would behave, her own patience was waning thin with the woman and her antics.

“We have a toast as well!”

Shuri whips her head to you, brows furrowed in confusion as she whispers, “We do?”

The words leave your lips before you can actually think about what you’re about to do. Upstaging your mother had never been something you’d acted upon, although you’d fantasized about shutting her up numerous times with your own words; the courage was just never there. Perhaps it was because now you were older, or perhaps it was because you now knew that Alex was on your side, or perhaps it was because you had Shuri next to you to back you up. Whatever it was, it began surging through your veins that once were riddled and crippled with anxiety.

Nonetheless, you’re standing up, and so is Shuri, so there isn’t any backing down now. All eyes were on you.

“Sister,” you begin, reaching your hand out Alex who stands up again to be eye level with you, “I will make this quick, ‘cuz you know I hate sappy shit.”

Alex laughs a little. Her grip on your hands is comforting, and the way she looks at you is almost in a coaching matter. She hadn’t expected such a burst of confidence either, but wasn’t about to let you face it alone.

“We’ve had our…ups and down,” you say, “and there were ‘things’ happening that I blamed you for, that I pushed you away for. But you’ve always been there. You were..the only person there.”

You feel Shuri’s hand caress the small of your back for support. You feel like crying, and you're not sure the reason for it, but you push it down and continue.

“I am grateful for you, and I’m glad I came to celebrate with you…and I love you.”

The air that was once thick when you started to speak seemed to ease when you said those last three words. And again, claps and praises flew out into the air at the confession. Alex, the much more sappier of one of the two of you, tried to keep her eyes from swelling with tears, but of course it was harder for her to do so.

“Don’t you start crying,” you say playfully through the loudness of the table, “‘cus you know if you do, then I’ma start crying, and we just gon’ be two snotty nosed bitches-”

Yet you didn’t get the chance to finish, because Alex then pulls you into her embrace. It’s tight and full of love, and she gives you no choice but to sink into it. For a second, it seems like the noise drowns out as you bask in the love from your sister, and you hear a faint ‘thank you’ being whispered into your ear right as she pulls away.

“I suppose this means it is my turn,” Shuri says sheepishly, once the embrace has finished and you’ve returned right at her side. She’d been thinking of what to day this entire time, though each scenario that she had run through her head didn’t seem worthy of a quality toast to a quality woman, “I shall try to make this toast worthy of your time, Miss Birthday Girl.”

“Sitting at this table, surrounded by all of you; it reminds me of a similar family routine that I took for granted in my youth.” Shuri’s eyes gaze from person to person as she speaks. “You see, I was too absorbed in my technological advances to truly appreciate the aspects of family dinners. The mundaneness of sitting with one another and being present. I used to want to give anything to be left to my own devices. And now, I sit at the head of the same table, with no one. I am Queen of the most powerful nation in the world, and my entire family is gone.”

Another silence fills the table as everyone looks onto Shuri; her head is held high as she speaks, though, voice unwavering. She breathes when she feels your hand slip into hers.

“Alex, you are a very blessed woman to have your family here with you to celebrate a generational obstacle overcome,” the queen bids, “and for that, I propose a toast to you, and a saying from my people to yours.”

The queen picks up her red cup, and watches as each individual picks up their own, before speaking again. “To Alex, a woman of virtue and genuity. ‘Akukho mntu ngaphandle kwesidenge ophika usapho lwakhe’.”

A round of cheers sounds before everyone downs a gulp of their chosen drinks in unison, applauding Shuri for her heartfelt toast and gratitude. As the both of you sit, and light chatter begins to cover the table, your mother calls out to Shuri with a look of curiosity.

“Such a lovely quote, Shuri,” your mother says, “what does it mean?”

“Oh, the proverb,” Shuri says, “it is one my baba used to say.”

“Did he now?”

“It means ‘No one but a fool denies their family’.”

Hearing this, your gaze shifts from the food in front of you to Shuri, who sports a proud smirk as she watches your mother grow uncomfortable in her seat from the queen’s words. As if she were putting the dots together in her own head.

With Dinner done, your nephew was all too quick to pull the queen aside to continue their conversation about her fancy spaceships. While his eagerness was endearing, Shuri had to put the conversation on hold because of an important phone call that came through. You assumed that it was Ayo, a name you had heard in fleeting conversations, but knew it to be a person of importance to Shuri. A captain of her Queen’s Guard, which Shuri had respectfully asked to fall back on attending the outing with the both of you, since it was a family thing, and Shuri didn’t want Alex’s neighbors questioning why so many bald-headed women were lingering around her house.

She said she would make the call quick, five minutes at most, before stepping into the house for quiet and privacy. The loss of her presence made you slightly anxious, but you maintained your spot in the gazebo, and Alex popped in here and there. She was the host, so she had to engage with the rest of her partygoers, but you were more than grateful that she took the time out to still check in on you, despite it being her day.

You took a sip of your drink - the adult punch that had been put in the kitchen so kids couldn’t get to it - and watched the party goers enjoy themselves from the comfort of your seat. Children running around, chasing each other with sparklers; aunties and uncles dancing to the old school remix; teens making TikTok videos with dances and skits. For a moment, things were content, and everyone was happy. Normal.

For a moment, for the first time in a long time, you felt happy with your family. 

“You’ve found this corner real comfortable, I see.”

The voice of your mother slips through he peaceful silence that previously covered the gazebo, and although you don’t feel it at first, your body begins to tense. She herself sports a red solo cup, though you can’t tell what’s inside of it. 

She doesn’t ask to join you - just takes up a single seat across from you - and even if she were to ask, you aren’t sure if you could even mutter an answer.

“It’s been so long since you’ve left,” your mother says, “since you decided you were grown enough and left your family behind. How has life been for you?”

“Good.” You reply, short and curt, taking a sip from your drink.

“You seem more than good,” she continues, “I assume living with a queen gives you a lot of financial relief-”

“If you came over here to start shit, please don’t.” You quickly cut off. “One; my relationship is of no concern to you, but Shuri doesn’t pay for shit of mine that I have. I was good before I met her, and I’m still going good on my own.”

You weren’t sure where the sudden crossness came from, but you definitely knew it had something to do with your mother’s constant mention of Shuri, as if she held prominent importance tonight and not the other child she’d birthed. “And it’s Alex’s birthday. I’m here for her.”

Your mother scoffs at your words, “-and there you go, twistin’ my words around and making me seem like the enemy. I’m just trying to talk to you!”

“Bullshit,” you spit, rising from your seat in a quick bid to find a quick exit into an area more populated, and more importantly, away from her, “I’m not doing this with you.”

You turn to try and leave, but your mother continues to speak behind you, pushing you further, “you’re so ungrateful; after everything we’ve done for you, you can’t even show an ounce of respect to your own mother.”

In that moment your body froze on the steps of the gazebo. A dull chill awakens within you, spreading through your limbs, your skin nearly rising into goosebumps, before a wave of anger crashes in.

“Fine,” you mutter, “you wanna ‘talk’?”

You turn to face your mother once again, eyes burning holes into her face, which has the audacity to hold a look of shock. “Let’s fucking talk.”

“Oh, but where to begin?” You scoff. “Maybe lets talk about how you can’t seem to ever say one good thing about me. It’s always some backhanded comment that you can’t help to point out how amazing Alex was and how shitty I was in comparison-”

“-that is not true,” your mother tries to interject, “but you were - and still are - a difficult child-”

“-I wasn’t fucking difficult!” You shout, drawing a few pairs of eyes to you and your mother. “I wanted fucking attention that you weren’t giving me! And you thought beating me was the best way to get me to ‘stop acting out’?”

“It was discipline!”

“Oh, but Alex never needed it though, right?” You question. “Alex was just so perfect to yall. She got the best of everything while your little mistake became the punching bag you took your frustrations out on!”

The increasing shouting started to draw attention from the other partygoers, who muttered among themselves, wondering the reason for the altercation, questioning if they should intervene. And it only got worse when the sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the backyard, making the music that played from outdoor speakers seem quiet.

Your mother, the pious, religious, righteous woman she claimed to be, just slapped you in front of the rest of your family.

“What’s going on over here?” The voice of your father bellows as he approaches the gazebo, having only made his presence known after a few gasps from seeing your mother hit you.

“I will not be disrespected by you, you ungrateful wench,” your mother seethes, “I was a damn good mother to you, even when we fell on hard times. I raised you!”

“I was a fucking kid!” You yell back. “How does a fucking adult take their anger out on their own kid!?”

“And you,” comes your voice through gritted teeth upon seeing your father coming to console your mother, which seemed to anger you even more, “dear old dad, who never ‘picked a side’. You sat there and watched as she fucked up her own kid.”

Your voice comes out more strained, wavering at the sight of your father. The man you saw treat Alex like a literal princess while you could only ever dream of being treated as such. You knew the next words you’d say were going to push his buttons - perhaps part of you wanted a reaction from him that could show that maybe, somewhere inside of him, he cared when your mother didn’t.

“If anything you’re more of a bitch than her!”

You weren’t sure what scared you more in that moment; the loud grunt and your fathers arms menacingly reaching out towards you, or the flash of black that shot across your vision right before you closed your eyes shut, anticipating something to happen.

The silence was deafening as you felt your legs stumble back into something warm but you were too scared to open your eyes yet. Of all your senses that had been stricken with tension, the first to register with reality once again was your hearing.

“I want you to think carefully about your next actions,” the queen’s voice comes out hardened and unyielding, “because I can assure you, I will not have to think about mine.”

That flash of black that had crossed your vision earlier had been Shuri. And if your eyes had been open, you yourself would have shuddered at the pure rage that was present on her face.

Shuri’s hand, albeit tiny and delicate in most cases, held your father’s wrist in a right grasp, and despite the broader man's struggles to pull free, it was futile. She was not letting him go, and neither was the intensity of her stare that held your mother’s gaze. 

“If you don’t let my husband go-”

“Shut. Up.” And her words were absolute, leaving no room for question. Perhaps it was part of the authoritarian aura that she’d gained from taking on her queenship that shut your mother up, but whatever the case may have been, Shuri admits that she certainly enjoyed the look of surprise on your mother’s face.

“Alex,” Shuri says, and it now becomes clear to you that the thing you had back into was your very sister. It also became clear how tight her grip on you was, as if she were scared to let you go, “take my beloved back to my car. We will be leaving shortly.”

There’s a gentle nudge and a hushed ‘c’mon’ before you feel yourself being moved sideways, then forward, Alex doing as Shuri says and relocating you to the front of her home to get you into a safer, calmer place.

It isn’t until Shuri sees your figure disappear behind the wooden fence that she releases your father’s wrist. The man winces as he regains control of his limb, his wife bringing her hands to soothe the skin where it was beginning to turn purple from just how tight her grasp was.

Shuri turns in a slow circle, eyes scanning each and every one of the individuals who’d stood by and undoubtedly watched the scene unfold, offering no sign of intervention. “This is what your family is?” She calls out. “It is sickening.”

The guilt shines in their eyes but Shuri has none of it. To her, they are all just as guilty as your parents, for they've watched the same scene unfold many times before, and just the same, no one stood up.

The queen turns back to your parents, as she bites the inside of her cheek to control her composure. “I do not know your story,” she says, “nor do I wish to, and now, nor do I care. I only leave you with this as I leave.”

Shuri takes a step forward to your parents, jaw clenched tight and piercing eyes meeting theirs once again. “My (Y/N) will be loved…as it is clearly something neither of you could bestow upon her.”

And in the same flash of black she leaves the party, that had long gone silent, and biting her tongue so hard she thought she’d draw blood.

Exitting the back yard, Shuri comes around the front to see you and Alex sitting on the porch steps. She holds a towel to your cheek, whispering to you with care about holding the cold, wet cloth gently on your cheek to battle the inflammation. It was the first and only thing she could grab without immediately leaving your side, the green garden hose still running into the grass proof of it.

It takes everything in Shuri not to run to you, to pull you into her arms and cradle you into her embrace, to shield you from the cruelness that has surely been brought back to the forefront of your mind. There’s a pit in her stomach that churns with the pain of unease, and it eats at her as she thinks; if she had just been swifter with that call with Ayo, or better yet, not even answered at all, then you wouldn’t have been left alone, and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Shuri grows closer and realizes that the both of you are crying, and her heart tightens in her chest. She bends down to meet you on eye level, resting a soothing hand on your leg. Alex holds her head in one hand, her other still grasped tightly onto your side, holding you close to her. Shuri finally understands what Alex meant when she talked about the varying levels of harm done to the sisters in their youth. You took the physical and verbal brunt, while Alex took the emotional.

“This was not suppose to happen.” Shuri hears Alex mutter, and the queen quickly cuts in before Alex has a chance to even say as such.

“It is not your fault, Alex,” the queen asserts, “you cannot be responsible for the actions of your parents.”

Alex looks up to Shuri, sniffling as their eyes connect. A beat passes before the older sister nods, though her jaw is still tight with tension. There’s a shift in Alex’s eyes, from sadness and regret, to a hardened security.

“I need to get my house in order,” she says, glancing to her side, and reluctantly peeling her arm from around your waist, “party’s officially over.”

Alex stands to do just as she intends, and as she leaves, Shuri grows closer to you. One hand rubs circles into your knee, the other one gently lifts your face up to meet hers. Your eyes are tired, likely due to adrenaline fatigue, but your body still shakes with a light tremble.

“I am taking you home.” She says, leaving no room for argument; even though, in your current state, you couldn’t refuse her if you wanted to. So when Shuri wraps her arms around you and lifts you to your feet, you all but lean into her warmth. 

And the kiss she presses into the crown of your head provides reassurance that even after the events that have unfolded, with Shuri, you will be okay.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Young and Beautiful

Alec Hardy (Broadchurch) x Reader

Synopsis: DS Y/N Warner uses DI Alec Hardy’s flat for some late night work

Word Count: 4890

Tags: fem!reader, fluff, smut, praise, sweet, very sweet smut, if your name is Becca look away

She didn't even bother to knock, not knowing or caring if he was in, she just slid open his sliding glass door and let herself inside. Then she plopped the case files on his sofa, pushed his coffee table to the side, and laid them all out in front of in her. He'd come round about an hour later, when all the papers lie in their own stacks across his rug, Y/N in the middle eating a slice of toast with a wild look in her eyes.

"Warner, what're you doing here?"

"There's something we're missing, there has to be, and I'm so close to it!" She said, her baby hairs frizzing wildly as her hair came loose from her ponytail. She either didn't care or didn't notice as she stood up, a paper in hand. DI Alec Hardy stood in his own doorway, flabbergasted to his DS rambling in his room at half past 4am. "I think it has to do with Aaron, it's got to be. His alibi doesn't make sense, he won't tell us where he was, and he knew Sophia well enough. At least more than some of the other persons of interest. I've tracked down the local cab company and one of the drivers says he remembers giving a bloke a ride late that night, said the lad was proper out of breath and not exactly chatty. I've already got him lined up to come in tomorrow for more information. As for the trace amounts of DNA in the victims mouth we don't have a match yet but the lab did say it wasn't as disintegrated as they'd initially thought which gives me hope! I've got -" 

"Warner!" Hardy shouted, interrupting her speech. "What the hell are you doing in my house half past 4?"

She gestured around her as though it should be obvious, "working."

"And you can't do that at your own flat?"

She giggled, and continued to ramble. When she was really tired, like proper one second away from passing out tired, like she was now, she couldn't shut up. It didn't matter if the person she was talking to didn't want to hear it or wasn't listening or couldn't hear it - having a deaf cousin worked to her favor in these instances - she would continue to prattle on about what she needed to, "no. My roommate's got her boyfriend over and they were proper loud. Could practically hear the bed rattling, and it wasn't doing me any good. You don't sleep anyway so I figured I could use the space to lay it out. I didn't think you'd not be home. Why're you dressed nice? Did you come from a date? Is that what this is? Is there some woman waiting outside?"

"No!" DI Hardy looked halfway offended at the suggestion. "I've just got back from work. Was gonna make a cuppa then keep going til you showed up."

She squealed and went for something on the floor, lifting it up then crawling to a different paper,"I take two sugars."

"I know your bloody order. Shouldn't you go and sleep?"

She waved a hand, "I'll sleep when I'm dead. What I really need is for the world to be open 24/7. If I could only call this bloke right now and half my questions could be answered. You know my order? That's sweet."

He scoffed, "it's not unique. Warner, when was the last time you slept?"

"Uhh, I slept a few hours on Tuesday. Why do you look all high and mighty? You don't sleep either, don't eat. You're practically a miserable little skeleton carting your life way through life."

"I am not -" he stopped taking. Partially because she hadn't stopped either, continuing to chatter about whatever her heart desired. And partly because he didn't know if he was going to refute the miserable part, the little part, or the skeleton part. Or if he even could refute it. He snorted, well he wasn't little. He was over 6 foot. And he could eat more, he knew that. But he often forgot about food until he had to.

"I know a fellow who took nine sugars. Can you imagine that! Nine sugars! You're drinking piss flavored juice at that point. Pardon mh French, sir. He was very strange... called himself Witchfinder as though you couldn't search on the web magic shops. Maybe we should start calling ourselves Crimefinders. Criminalfinders? That doesn't roll off the tongue, now does it?"

DI Hardy realized Y/N wasn't going to answer any of his questions in this state, so he shuffled over to the kitchen to make some tea. He took his coat off, tossing it on whatever available counter space there was with a yawn. He wanted to sleep, knew he probably had to, but he'd probably dream of something he didn't want to dream about. Lately it'd been odd mental pictures of his coworkers all hurt, Y/N choked, Ellie crying, hell even Brian made the scene with a glazed look in his eyes. He didn't know why he had these thoughts, he'd never considered himself a particularly caring individual over his coworkers. But it had haunted him off from sleep for the foreseeable future.

He made two cups of tea, disposing two sugars into Warner's as she said. Then he walked back over to his living room and sat down, elbows on his knees as he scanned her work.

"Thank you!" She said, grabbing her mug and take a large gulp of it. "What do you think of this, sir? He doesn't strike me right. Can't place it."

"The name is familiar," Hardy admitted. He went to his laptop and started typing away, trying to place the name. "Ah, he's been arrested for aggravated assault. Both charges dropped, looks like some brawls in the pubs."

"I s'pose that doesn't suggest he murdered a girl."

"Doesn't rule him out either, if he's willing to punch a stranger in a pub what would he do to someone he knows?"

She giggled and scrambled for her pencil, "I should write that down for my novel!"

"You're writing a novel?"

"Mmhmm, started it tonight. 'Adventures of Harner and Wardy.'"

Alec set his mug down, and took hers from her hand as well. "Alright, time for bed now."

"What? No! I've got more novel to write and crime to solve! We've not even started discussing the potential that Louise is lying about her husband's alibi. I mean really? She says he binged Big Bang Theory with her all night and I'm all for binging telly but of all the shows you choose that one? The laugh track is funnier than the actual show half the time - is this your bedroom?"

Hardy had helped Y/N to her feet and led her to his bedroom in the back. She was still rambling about the most irrelevant things when he guided her to sit on the edge of his bed. He didn't often make it, so he was glad to note that it was done up well. Warner hadn't slept in almost a full 48 hours and he knew that even with a brain as sharp as hers, it was dull as Katie's without sleep. He got on his knees before her, carefully untying her shoes and sliding them off her feet. He put them by the door and helped her out of her coat jacket.

"What're you doing?" She finally asked as he hung the jacket on the back of the door. "Are you hitting on me?"

"What? I -"

"Because if you are hitting on me that's totally okay, but I should warn you I'm getting sleepy so I might not be the best lay. But you are proper good looking so I wouldn't say no." She made a face, "my boss wouldn't like that would he? Noooo, can't call someone proper good looking. I'm not trying to be a knob, just communicating that you've got no problems in the looks department. None, like ever. Personality maybe but you took my shoes off for me so that gets you at least a few brownie points."

Alec felt like he was malfunctioning, his arm stuck out, frozen midair from her words. She just called him attractive. And not just good looking, but good looking enough she'd want to sleep with him! He'd never been used to such straight forward compliments and didn't quite know if he believed it. So he just worked on autopilot, helping tuck her into bed.

"Go to sleep, Warner." He flicked off the lights and closed the door. What the hell. What the hell. Alec blinked rapidly like that would make any of what just happened make any sense at all.

He stood awkwardly outside the door of the bedroom. Should he - is he- what's the proper procedure with this? He should know, he was married once, had enough sex to have a child! But it seemed all that knowledge left the moment Claire stole back the pendant, fizzling his marriage, his life, his career. Now he was left taking uneven breaths as the sun crept up, an employee who's attracted to him sleeping in his bed after 40+ hours of not sleeping.

He found himself back at his laptop, slowly typing out what to do when someone admits to fancying you. But the results were not his thing, videos of very forward men and women moving very quickly into other actions. Alec was not opposed to the action, sex. But he couldn't fathom how to get there. So he sat in his kitchen drinking old tea, and staring at his door.

An hour later he crept in to grab a different tie for work, and saw Y/N completely passed out. She was curled in a ball, cradling his pillow and lightly snoring. She looked content. It made him smile against his better judgment. He left her in there, scribbling a note on a piece of paper he taped to the bedroom door before he left for the station.

Y/N Warner woke up nearly 12 hours later. It was practically dark when she opened her eyes. She blinked away the sleep that threatened to creep in around the corners of her eyes, and propped herself up on her elbows to survey the scene around her. She didn't recognize the room she was in, blank walls and bland sheets. There was no personality to it. For a moment, she wondered if she'd gotten a hotel room and just had no memory of it.

Then she smelt a familiar, faint scent. She couldn't place it or really describe it other than she liked it, it was warm. Stupidly, she let her face fall into the pillow to inhale the scent. Oh my god.

She shot up quickly, realizing where she was. The memories of last night flooded her mind.

"Shit, shit, shit." A hand flew to her brow as she tried to process. She'd come here to work because her roommate was fucking her boyfriend into the oblivion. DI Hardy came back, made her a cuppa. She wouldn't shut up, kept rambling about the Big Bang Theory (why?) and Witchfinders (how?) before he guided her here. Then she - "no." She said audibly, she did not make a pass at DI Hardy in his bed, late at night and practically drunk on exhaustion. Her eyes flit around the room before landing on the one piece of decoration, a framed photo of Hardy and Daisy, his daughter. "No." She said again, as though it could stop her ramblings.

Y/N rushed out of the bed, scrambling to find her shoes before she saw them neatly lying next to the door. She was usually very professional, if not a little eccentric. But no one could fault you for being a lot when you were good at your job and solved cases. She brought justice to people, she knew she did. And she might have risked it all because she worked herself too far and hit on her boss. Regardless of how stupid attractive he was, that was still work place harassment.

She shoved her shoes on, forced her arms into the holes of her suit jacket and ambled out into his living space. There were papers everywhere. They covered the floor like a new rug, slouched over the chairs and clung to the walls by hall dead pieces of tape. She looked for her mobile, patting her pockets. Shit, she must have left it in the bedroom. When she turned she spotted a note on the door.

'At the office. Feel free to not come in.'

Oh she was dead. She'd lost her job forever, she would never work again. This stupid blasted career she'd worked so hard on gone.

She ran back and found her mobile among the sheets, shoved it into her pocket and ran to leave the home. Then DI Hardy stood awkwardly at the front door, bags of Chinese hanging from his hands and a weird not grimace not smile expression. He didn't look pleased to see her, but he didn't want to kill her. Good news, right?

"Sir, I am so sorry about last night-"

"Don't worry about it." He waved his hand, coming in to set the food on the counter. He got a lot of it.

"No, I can't not worry about it. I came into your home, made a mess, took your bed and propositioned you-"

"Warner, we've arrested a man for the murder of Sophia Garcia. It was Aaron Baker, his dad's golf clubs, just like you'd said."

Her mouth fell open, "shit, really?"

Alec gestured to the mess of papers while he spoke, "you'd mentioned something about the cabbie last night. When I went in I gave them a ring, and while there was a driver who picked up a grumpy lad it wasn't Aaron. Sounds like a Christie book but it was his twin. Aaron was cross town cleaning up the scene."

"Not good enough," Y/N said softly.

Alec nodded, "not good enough."

"I'm sorry, sir." She said again, her voice still quiet and meek.

He didn't answer her, just stared for a beat before gesturing to the food, "I didn't know what you liked so I bought two of everything."

"All this is for me?"

"You solved the case, Warner."

She shook her head, "I ... you let me sleep in your bed? I ransacked your house, I propositioned you, and you let me sleep and brought me food?"

Alec scratched the back of his neck. He did not like how often Y/N asked questions. It stressed him out, like he had to have an immediate answer to every single one when he figured his actions spoke. But she looked so confused. He just gestured to the food and went to grab plates.

She sat down in surprise, blinking quickly as she watched him come over. "Just a, uh, an egg roll and cho mein please."

He nodded and shoved two of both onto her plate before giving it to her. He didn't put anything on his plate. Y/N sighed and scraped off half of hers onto his.

"Eat, sir. Please."

He blinked, "wot?"

"I've known you for years and never seen you eat. Just eat the egg roll."

He stared at the greasy food. He can't eat that, he thought and was about to say as much when she shot him a dirty look. Tentatively, Alec took a bite of it. He cringed, he didn't quite love the taste but Y/N seemed pleased he was eating so he finished it off just for her.

When they both finished he cleaned up, and she stayed seated. Then he moved past her to the bedroom, undoing his tie and tossing it, along with his jacket, onto a chair in the corner. He started to roll his sleeves up round his elbows when Y/N waited by the door.

"Thank you, sir."

"No need-"

"Let me. Thank you, sir. For the food and the sleep and, uh, well thank you for everything."

"Of course, Warner. I take care of my people." Not typically this much care, but he didn't want to make her feel bad. He focused on sliding off his shoes, shoving them out of his sight.

Alec jumped - well, Alec never really jumped just blinked harshly and cocked the one eyebrow - in surprise. Y/N was now closer to him, her chest heaving as she stared up at him. She was shorter than he remembered.

"I-If I may, sir?" She asked, lifting a hand.

He had a feeling he knew what she was asking, but didn't know for certain. But all the same he nodded. He watched as her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned in, going onto her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He hadn't been kissed in a long time, and the surprise of her initiating it made him stand there and accept her soft lips against his. When she broke, he could see the fear in her eyes as though she had done something wrong. Alec hadn't kissed in a while, and he felt the anxiety creep in that he didn't remember how. But the look in her eyes made it worth the fear.

He plunged forward, grabbing the back of her neck gently while his other hand came to cradle her jaw. Her skin was soft under his touch, melting as he held her. Y/N's hands came up to hold his jaw, scruffy and itchy in the most delightful way. Her mouth melded with his as his tongue licked along her bottom lip.

She cherished the way his jaw scratched against hers slightly, sighing when he broke to trail soft kisses down her jaw and the length of her neck. The scratch was enough to make her giggle like a schoolgirl, holding his shoulders. He shot back up, hair slightly wild but nothing compared to his eyes as he looked into hers deeply. He needed to be absolutely certain. There was no time for messing about and hurting anyone.

She smiled. He was so handsome to her, but in an understated way. She took the moment to run a finger on his sculpted jawline, along his freckled cheeks and down his crooked nose. No, not everyone might look at those features and call it handsome. But to her, he was everything. Smart, kind, and good-looking as sin. Her finger fell upon his lips, slightly open and let out harsh breaths as he searched her eyes desperately. Alec always wished he could read expressions better, he was terrified he'd make the wrong decision somewhere down the line.

But Y/N smiled, and nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his nose before taking a step back. Then she toed off her own shoes, shucked off her own jacket, and began to undress.

He followed her lead, removing his shirt and pants. Eventually, they both stood in front of one another naked. Y/N felt that pang of anxiety in her chest at being bare in front of a man. She'd made it very clear to Alec that she found him to be hotter than hell, but did he feel that way about her? She wasn't ugly, she knew that, but she wasn't a showstopper.

And yes, she could see the surprisingly length of him hardening before him. But didn't every man get hard when sex was on the table?

Alec came forward and placed his hands on her hips, pulling her forward as his eyes took in every inch of her. He ran a hand along her stomach - an insecure area for her - and up between her breasts, before settling it on the base of her neck. The simple action left her breathless.

His eyes were still on her body before he brought them up to hers. She was struck by how deep his were, how warm and brown, they seemed to go on forever.

"Look at you," he said hoarsely, his accent suddenly get thicker. "You're gorgeous."

"You think so?" She felt stupid asking it. She should be confident, she should pose seductively and tell him to strap in the way girls do on the telly. But this felt real and raw, and raw didn't shy away from the insecurities. Insecurities laced with cellulite and hair, parts that feel too pudgy there and too concave there. Never quite where it needs to be, never "ugly" enough for the world to tell you you have a right to complain.

"'Course. 'Course, look at you. You think I'm g-good too?" He asked back.

Y/N smiled, "thank you for saying that, most men don't."

"Don't they?" Alec asked in surprise, figuring that was just a part of the experience.

She shook her head and let her gaze trace along his body as well. He was lean and tall, with thin legs and arms wrapped in gentle muscle. His stomach was slightly pouchy and soft, beneath it his length was already hard at the sight of her. She ran a hand up from his stomach to his chest, mimicking his actions, and let it stay on his heart. Beneath her touch it thumped violently. Then she looked up to see his face, her favorite feature. His eyes were warm and gentle even when they didn't mean to be. "All of you is handsome to me, all of you."

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing, "you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. And if it isn't too crass to say, I'd fuck every inch of you."

It was too crass to say, and even a little cheesy, but it made her blossom with a smile. She threw her arms around his neck and let herself fall into one of his all encompassing kisses she was starting to like the taste of too much. Alec's lips were firm but not overpowering as they engulfed her, setting a tingle from her toes all the way up to her head in a heady giggle. His hands held onto her waist, grasping the flesh there with a sweet intensity. His lips parted with a deep groan.

She walked backwards to the bed, leading Alec until he was over her. His arms were poised by her head, his neck brought down as he peppered open mouth kisses along her neck. She laughed lightly at his scruffy beard, moaning when his lips found the spot between her neck and shoulder that shot straight through her. Y/N writhed under his touch, heat searing her skin. His hands were everywhere, branding her, skating up her waist to grab a handful of her breast, down her back to cup her bum, and feather like fingers traveling over the top of her thighs to the place in between. She gasped as he ran a finger down her slit.

"So wet..." he murmured, not expecting her to be so aroused by him. He'd barely done anything for her, hadn't touched down there at all. Yet she was slick to the touch, heat and arousal. Alec loved the way her chest flushed, her eyes closed tightly as she savored his touch on her skin.

He ran his fingers down, keeping his touch light as he experimentally nudged around. When he found her clit she gasped, her whole body tensing and focusing on the nerves right there against his finger.

"So responsive," he murmured, starting to work gently against her clit as she took shaking, uneven breaths. Alec went to speak again, then stopped. Tess never liked when he spoke in bed, said it distracted her from her climax. So he'd learned to stay silent and focus on his partner's body, her mouth as she fought her body's reaction to grind violently against his fingers. He kissed her sternum, biting at the flesh gingerly. Despite himself, Alec growled into her as she bucked her hips to meet his ministrations.

"Keep talking," she said in a hoarse voice.

"Wot?" Alec asked, taken aback.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes heady with need, "your voice is hot. If it's okay to ask, please keep talking, sir."

Alec grinned his charming, crooked smile. He bent down to kiss along her stomach as he quickened his pace on his clit, driving her faster to a climax then she was used to. That deep Scottish voice rang our praises, some loud enough that she could hear them and clench her thighs, others murmurs against her flesh that made her head feel light and airy. She giggled at the thought of all the beard rash she'd have along her body from him. All the same he told her how well she was doing, how beautiful she was, how lovely she looked squirming underneath him.

Then, as her back began to arch and she could feel the orgasm just a hair's breadth away, he stilled. Y/N whined. Actually felt herself whine in protest. He chuckled, clearly meaning to edge her, using his large hands to keep her legs wide open.

"A-are you ready?" Alec asked, his usual confidence lost to the arousal he was trying to keep at bay for her. His hands were large and warm, holding onto the space between her hips and thighs with a firm yet gentle touch.

Y/N's eyes gazed down to his cock, hard and ready. It looked about ready to burst, but Alec squeezed her thighs to look up into his eyes. They were warm and kind. Asking for consent even in a position like this. It made her all the more sure of her answer.

She reached up for his face, grabbing his jaw and planting a warm kiss on his mouth as he started to guide himself inside of her. He was slow, letting her gasp and adjust to the length inch by inch until he was fully inside of her. Alec paused. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere, pulsing desperately for friction.

She nodded, kissing Alec again. She'd never had a kiss like that, so strong and comforting. Kisses were never her thing, she hadn't understood the fuss over them. Just two sets of lips pressed against one another, the taste of the day infecting it. But with Alec it was more than the cho mein or egg rolls, and it was more than chapped lips pressed against one another. It was full of desire, trying to communicate all that words couldn't. She drank it in fully, gasping against him as he started to move inside of her.

Alec was bigger than she expected and bigger than he was used to, and she wiggled her hips to the feeling of being stretched so full like that. He cherished the feeling of her gasps and moans, dipping to kiss every inch of skin near him.

"So beautiful, so gorgeous..." he thrusted in quickly this time and saw her body tense from surprise. "You're taking me beautifully, Angel."

Y/N could listen to his voice all day. Even before she realized he was far from an ugly bloke, she fancied the way his voice poured over her in sexy waves. Deep, guttural, it was honest and raw. He didn't lie, he didn't cover it with some pretense to be sexy. Even when his voice would break, small gasps from the sensations breaking up his sentences, she found it all the better.

Alec leaned back, not wanting to stop kissing her not wanting to miss the view. He'd pulled her hips down to the edge of the bed, him standing and her legs spread wide and resting on the small of his back. With a gentle pace that started to grow more desperate he thrust into her, watching her body flush and squirm beneath him. Y/N threw her arms up, arching her back to take him deeper. Alec was enamored with the way her breasts bounced with each thrust.

"So fucking beautiful," he grumbled, snaking a hand down to stroke her clit. He could feel that he wasn't going to last as long as he would have liked, but by the way Y/N let out little moans by his feather light touch, he figured she didn't mind all that much.

Y/N was in her own world, feeling his voice slide off her skin like oil as she chased her high. His denial of her orgasm earlier made this one all the more powerful. It seemed to slam into her, causing her to gasp wildly as Alec kept firm ministrations on her clit. Then he too reached his climax, grunting in a low voice before pouring out in a shocking spurt.

Then he pulled out, falling beside her as they both gasped for breath. Y/N quickly ambled out of the bed and used the restroom before she came back in, feeling like her limbs were absolute jelly. Alec brought her back to the bed, laying next to her. His hand held hers, thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand.

"That was incredible," he finally said.

"You could say that again."

"That was incredible." They both paused, turning to look at one another, before bursting into a fit of giggles.

[denaliwrites]

Regale You With A Gourd-geous Tale

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Alec partake in the annual Broadchurch Pumpkin Carving Contest, but things go rather sideways.

Soundtrack: Pumpkin Cowboy by Brian David Gilbert

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Alec is not a basic white girl.

You had thought that convincing the Broadchurch DI to enter the annual Pumpkin Carving Contest would be fun, help him integrate into the community better, and meet people in a context that did not involve crime.

You had been wrong.

Sure, the actual contest had gone swimmingly up to a point. You didn't win, but it was fun. Until it wasn't.

First, one of the local pub owners had gotten too drunk and caused a scene. Then, one of the village kids had gone missing (he was found an hour later eating a candy apple as if nothing had happened). Then, someone had injured themselves with the carving tools (how? you were unsure).

Overall, it was just hard to really focus on the activity at hand.

Also, your pumpkins sucked.

You blamed the multiple distractions.

You did get a consolation prize of a free drink ticket, which you used for a pint of Guinness, so at least there was that.

"I'm sorry," Alec said as you walked home. "I know you really wanted me to be normal today."

You sighed. "It's not your fault." He had his arm around your shoulder, making it easy to lightly bump against him as you walked. "I know it's hard for you to shut work off... especially when it just keeps coming at you like that."

"It really did," he groused, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. "Just one thing after another, all day."

The two of you walked in silence for a stretch after that, until Alec brought you to a halt outside a coffee shop. "Would you like something?" he asked, tossing his head towards the cafe. "Something to make up for today."

"You don't have to do that," you said, smiling. "But, sure. Large pumpkin spice latte, please."

"Y'ken," he said as he parted from you, "I've never had a pumpkin spice latte."

He did not give you the opportunity to respond. He was gone in an instant, stepping inside to order your drinks. You waited outside for him to come back, your stunned expression never leaving you.

He eventually returned, handing you your drink. It took him a minute to notice your shocked look.

"What is it?" he asked, and you could tell he was totally oblivious.

"You've never had a pumpkin spice latte?" you finally asked.

"... No," he answered unsurely, blinking. "Should I've?"

"Well... I mean... probably? Maybe? It's just that, like, everyone's had at least one by now."

"Except me."

"See, that's where you're wrong, because I have a pumpkin spice latte right here, and you're going to try it." You plucked his coffee out of his hand, replacing it with your latte.

He stared dumbfounded at it for a moment.

"You're supposed to drink it," you said in amusement, watching him. "It won't bite, Alec."

Hesitantly, he took a sip. The expression he made afterward was not entirely pleased, but it wasn't completely disgusted. In terms of Alec's reactions, that wasn't a terrible sign.

He handed the latte back to you and took his own coffee back in one swift move, then took a palette-cleansing sip of his drink. "I never want to taste that again," he said, motioning to your latte.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad!"

"Is this because we lost the pumpkin carving contest? Are you punishing me?" he asked jokingly, turning to look at you. "I did say I was sorry."

"It's not that!" you whined, shoving at his shoulder playfully. You were met with a chuckle. "Do you really not like it?"

"It's... fine," he answered honestly. "I'm not gonna go orderin' it but it's not the worst thing I've ever had, either."

Well, for Alec, that was a win.

"I'll get you," you said jovially with a smirk. "One of these days, you'll like pumpkin spice."

What he couldn't bear to tell you, was that he'd hated it. Could not stand the taste of it. And the idea of having to ever have that terrible flavor anywhere near his mouth ever again terrified him.

But, the idea of "converting" him made you happy, so he played along, hoping for his own sake that he did end up liking the stuff through sheer force of will.

And, he still felt bad about the pumpkin carving contest. While you were still asleep in the early hours of the morning, he snuck out of bed and ran to the shops, picking up two pumpkins and a carving kit for the two of you to enjoy alone at home.

When you woke up and saw his gift, not only were you pleased as punch, but you insisted on carving them right away.

The previous day had had some bad spots, but that day was perfect.

[intersectionalpraxis]

lol Alec Baldwin yelled at Palestine protestors to "shut the fuck up" in NYC today. doesn't he have enough problems without showing his entire ass as a Zionist?

Why am I not surprised by this?? I looked at some articles made by some American sources and they made it seem like this incident was just a little 'tense,' but he was incredibly defensive and confrontational for no fucking reason -he even shouted "stop crying" and "what are you crying so much" at one point. I know he's known for being a notorious asshole -for being (ALLEGEDLY) incredibly controlling and manipulative towards at least one of his former spouses. Bullied and verbally assaulted his own daughter when she was a child (I won't repeat it here but he referred to her as an animal). Fired a gun (that he didn't fucking check) and killed a woman on a movie set a few years ago, and made the whole incident all about HIMSELF.

I also find headlines about this hilarious because he was taunting, shouting, and escalating things ALL on his own accord. If you watch the full video you'll see he's being disgraceful, but I'm sure his PR team is working hard on making it out like he was being personally targeted -such a joke.

Alec Baldwin (and celebrities like him) ya'll need to continue to shut the hell up.

[kiiwiigii]

Shenanigans (Rubber Ducky ii)

Pt. One

Alec x Fem!Reader - Plantonic Demetri x Fem!Reader x Felix

Summary: A follow up to Rubber Ducky. Demteri and Felix corner you to ask about Count Duckula. They have another thing coming.

Warnings:

Pure fluff

Word Count: 599

A/N: I couldn't not write it.

"So." 

I groaned, shoulders dropping in an immediate response to Demetri's teasing tone. I just knew that whatever he was going to say, I was going to be embarrassed. I avoided eye contact and sped up instead. 

"You know speeding up won't help you, right?" 

It was Felix this time. 

I rolled my eyes up toward the ceiling in a desperate plea for help from the heavens. If Felix was here that meant I was probably going to die from embarrassment. All I needed to do was make it to Alec's room and I was safe. Neither had the balls to enter there. 

Demetri moved in front of me, walking backwards with a stupid ass grin on his face. I glared in return, choosing to keep on ignoring him. 

"So." Demetri continued. "What is this rubber ducky we've all heard so much about?" 

I snapped my eyes up towards him, gawking. Alec certainly wouldn't have told him. And I definitely didn't. He grinned as I suddenly blushed in realization. 

"Can you guys not keep your hearing to yourselves??" I snapped at both of them. 

Felix chuckled from the other side of me. "That is a dumb question, Y/N." 

"You would think that you'd be used to it by now." Demetri said flippantly, falling back into step next to me. "Vampires hear everything." 

"I suddenly feel bad for Alec." I grumbled.  

"Oh?" 

"Yeah. That means he has to hear you and Heidi going at it." 

"Everyone has to hear that unfortunately." Felix stated, hands behind his back. 

"You see? That. That right there is why I'm suddenly questioning if I even want to become a vampire. That, and I would miss food. A lot." 

"Not that you have much of a choice, but that is what has you reconsidering??" Felix asked incredulously. "Hearing and human food?? Not the whole drinking human blood thing?" 

I snorted, waving his question off with the flick of my hand. 

"No. That's simply what I call the circle of life." 

Demetri snickered. 

"I swear to god, if you start singing the Lion King, I will end you." 

"What is the Lion King?" Felix asked. 

I stopped and stared up at him. "You- You've never seen the Lion King? Have you ever seen any of the Disney movies??" 

"I have seen Snow White!" He said defensively. 

I grinned a little wickedly, causing both to exchange slightly terrified looks and back away. Too bad, I had them in my claws now. 

"Disney movie marathon. Tonight. We'll start with Snow White. Bring me snacks." I ordered, sauntered forward and ignoring any and all protests. "Do it or I'll sic Alec on you." 

That shut them up. 

I continued down the hall as they whispered to each other furiously, although I could still hear them. 

"How did we get from the rubber duck to being roped into a fucking Disney marathon??" Demetri hissed. 

"You. You had to go and be nosey." Felix groaned. 

"You wanted to know just as badly as I did!" 

"Alec. It's Alec's fault. And the damn bastard is not even here!" 

"I can hear you!" I sing-songed. 

I slipped my hand into my messenger bag, grinning at the bickering behind me, and let my fingers brush against the little rubber ducky Alec had surprised me with. Count Duckula was supposed to be on my nightstand, but I found him good company when Alec was away on missions. 

In the end, the embarrassment crisis was averted, and I was sure Demetri and Felix would think twice about trying to corner me again.  

At least I hoped. 

{Masterlist} // {Request Guidelines}

Taglist: @rosedpetal @alecvolturi @lack-lust-3rr

Wanna be notified when I post a new story? Ask to join my taglist!

[lakesbian]

in a real worm normalverse au (i.e one where everyone is Normal and it's like. a generic highschool sitcom and no one is severely traumatized) alec is the most annoying motherfucker on the planet about having a girlfriend. notbecause they're sappy about it but because individually they both Conspire and together their Conspiring Strength against everyone else is magnified 2x. and he won't shut the fuck up about how his girlfriend is going to bring him specifically fries while he's working backstage on theater shit after school and no he will not share the fries with anyone else the fries are for him alone because he is cool and has a girlfriend

[foodsies4me]

Max showing up at Magnus' door saying Alec say it's okay but the whole of NY's shadowhunters are scouring the city looking for him

So, this took a turn I didn't expect as usual because I have never written a fic the way I planned to. Also background context, Madzie is out shopping with Izzy, Clara and Steph, which is why Max arrived sans Madzie.

The thing is, Magnus should have known better than to take Max’s word at face value. As much as he adores the child, Magnus isn’t blind to Max’s tendency to get into trouble at the drop of a head because his curiosity gets the better of him. Still, Max has never disobeyed on purpose, especially where Alec is concerned. So, when Max rings his doorbell, hazel eyes barely visible over the camera, and claims Alec told him he could drop by, Magnus doesn’t think twice about letting him in.

He’s quick to put a stasis spell on the three potions he’s making for one of his clients and turn down the fire before Max makes it all the way up. While his favorite baby Lightwood has been helping him from time to time, claiming he needed to be able to understand how potions worked to help Madzie with her lessons, Magnus has only let him touch the harmless potions that don't explode or poison you with a wrong step. Or even the right one. Max enters right as Magnus shuts his apothecary again, his smile bright and easy as he chirps out a joyous, “Hi Mags!” Magnus immediately notices how, despite the easy smile and the relaxed shoulders, something is off about Max’s greeting. He can’t pinpoint what, but something - a key component Magnus never noticed was there - is somehow absent.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite Lightwood trainee,” Magnus greets as he takes Max's jacket and backpack and places them high on the coat hanger. “What brings you here today?” Max laughs, but again the noise sounds off. Wrong. Like a note that has been transposed into a different key. “Alec said I could come,” he says, repeating what he said earlier over the speaker. “So you said,” Magnus agrees. “But that doesn’t answer my question.” Max shrugs - a gesture that is adorably reminiscent of his older brother. Even if Max is clearly using it to avoid answering Magnus’ question. Deciding not to push the issue, not yet, Magnus offers to get them both a drink, playing up his antics slightly more than usual to draw out a smile and even a giggle out of Max before he conjures them both a cup of hot chocolate - one with a small shot of rhum in it for him, and one with an extra swirl of whipped cream for Max.

They talk about general things for a couple of minutes, Max's lessons as well as some of Magnus' more outlandish clients, before Max falls silent with a troubled look on his face. He draws his knees up to his chin, the cup clutched tightly between his fingers, and carefully avoids looking at him when he says, "Mother and Father are at the institute." Magnus makes a humming sound, no longer blinking at the particular way of address that only Max seems to adopt, "And did something happen with your parents?" Max shrugs again, expression growing more somber, "To keep friendly relations, it is customary for younger children to study in a different institute than their parents," he says, reciting the words in the same manner Alexander does when he's repeating something his mother used to say.

Magnus takes a sip of his drink, "And do you want to do that?" He asks carefully, already knowing the answer. Max shakes his head, shoulders slumping as he tries to make himself even smaller. "Then you won't," Magnus says. He abandons his drink to sit down next to Max, bumping their shoulders together before he pulls the young child in for a side hug, "If you don't want to leave then I doubt your brother would let anyone take you away from him." Max mumbles something into the side of his arm. "I'm sorry darling, I didn't catch that." "I don't want to be a burden," Max mumbles slightly louder, his voice wobbling ever so softly, and, not for the first time, Magnus is cursing Maryse and Robert Lightwood in a completely different manner than he's used to.

"Do you really think your brother could ever consider you a burden?" Magnus asks, carding his hands through messy black hair. "Your big brother? Your Alec that wrote you bedtime stories and goes trick-or-treating with you?" A wet giggle. "Now that's more like it," Magnus smiles. Max sniffles, wiping his tears on his sleeve before settling himself more comfortably against Magnus' side. "You really don't think I'll have to leave?" He asks carefully. "Not even if me being here makes Alec fight with mother and father?" "If there's one thing I can promise you then it's that your brother would burn the world down before he let anyone take you away." Max lets out a deep relieved sigh, reaching for his hot chocolate again and Magnus gives him another squeeze. "I don't like it when they're at the institute," he says after a long pause, "They always make Alec sad."

"Then we'll just have to make sure we cheer him up once they're gone," Magnus reassures. "Speaking off, I was planning on eating out with your brother today, but perhaps we could make him something instead?" The suggestion works exactly the way he expected it to. "Can we? Can we?" Max asks, springing up from the couch, eyes shining the way they should as he already starts shooting off the names of the different dishes he wants to make. Magnus expects that to be the last of it. Max and he end up making burgers, a homemade salad, and some potato wedges. Nothing too complicated for Max to make, and yet something all three of them like to eat. They're close to finishing up so Magnus calls Alexander, expecting to surprise his boyfriend with a (hopefully) welcome change in plans, only for things to go slightly different.

Alexander picks up on the first ring, his voice strangled like he's on the verge of a panic attack. "Magnus -I...fuck, I'm sorry I can't make it. Max is missing - I...," his voice grows more distant, likely speaking to someone else before he comes back on the phone, "I have to leave, I'm sorry. I'll let you-" "Max is here," Magnus cuts in before he looks over at Max, who is staring curiously at him. "Which he told me you knew?" "He...what?" "Max is here, he's been in my loft for most of the afternoon," he says, not missing the way Alexander's voice has grown very still. "He told me he told you." "I did," Max says, sounding as confused as Magnus does. "I asked if I could see you." Alexander curses over the other end of the line. "I- I'm going to have to call everyone back," Alec apologizes. "I- Max did ask... I was just, with mom and dad being here, I just. Sorry about this." Magnus can just imagine the expression on his face, a mixture of relief, annoyance, and the leftover stress from having had to endure another meeting with his parents. "There's no need to apologize, darling. That said, is your sister somewhere close?"

"Izzy?" Alexander asks, sounding calmer already, "Yeah she just came back from shopping with Madzie, Clara, and Steph, why?" "Could you put me on the phone with her?" Alexander still sounds confused, but he does as Magnus asks him to and, just a few seconds later, Izzy's voice floats over the phone. Magnus is quick to tell her to take over for Alexander for the night, something she's more than happy to do, before he asks her to give the phone back to Alexander so he can convince his boyfriend to come over. Something that isn't too difficult considering Max is still standing in his loft. After he's hung up, Alexander promising he's on his way, a pair of small arms wrap themselves around Magnus' waist again, a thin voice speaking up again. "Magnus?" "Yes, my little magpie?" "Thank you." Magnus smiles, returning the hug with a soft squeeze to Max's shoulders. "Anytime, little one."

[nvrve]

If someone still won't shut up, shut them up yourself (c) Alec Hardy

[your-littlesecret]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

@espithewarlock just tagged me on this, thank you bb 💕

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

62 + 1 on anon

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 

exactly 559.489

3. What fandoms do you write for?

exclusively Formula 1 RPF (right now)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

say my name and everything just stops (I don't want you like a best friend) - a/b/o where Charles accidentally "matches" with pierre in an app to help with his heat

jump then fall - vet!pierre who works in the animal shelter Charles takes a dog he finds in the street

call it what you want to - my firstborn wip, rival CEOs

hide and seek - crackfic where their families were never openly told Charles and pierre are married

baby one more time - pure porn. breeding kink.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to but I am terrible at it 😬 I appreciate all of them, but I never know what to answer too skaduhfbnskuhfvndfkhusvb but yeah, I try to answer all of them

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have literally two fics with MCD so it could be either 💀 but to me, it's gotta be I know I'll never get it (there's not a day that I won't try)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I have literally no idea?? I don't really do unhappy endings (apart from MCD, and even then very rarely) so I could say any of them

8. Do you get hate on fics?

not really?? I got a bitchy comment once but that was about like. nothing related to the fic, which was weird osieugnsoeiugnfdivjn

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes. I don't know, I just- sit down and type it? idk what kind, I've written a wide range of different smuts I believe.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

that will depend on what you view as crossover. httyd au could be considered a crossover bc toothless and the fury light are literally part of the story??? the one where they are shadowhunters with our lord and saviour Magnus bane making an appearance (and Alec being mentioned). the proposal au? (I wouldn't say Lucifer au is a crossover bc I literally just based myself on the whole idea of celestial beings and whatnot. maybe it's a bible crossover??)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I am aware of, and I fucking hope not!!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I've had a request for it, but I'm not sure if the person is still thinking about it or what's going on. it would be an honour!!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YES!!!! THE JUSTLY FIC!!!!!!! I love this fic so much and I love justi so much (debatable, we are in our enemies phase right now so I don't think I can say that in public) and it was SO MUCH FUN and I love writing with friends and I sure want to do it again!!! (friends..... if you want..... you know where to find me...... 😏😏)

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

definitely piarles. I will sometimes venture myself into other ships (especially if I want to write for a fren and I don't mind that ship)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't have any published work that's unfinished bc I keep myself on a very tight leash about wips. if I start posting it, bet that I already have at least half of that story written and the rest is already meticulously planned. I have a few half-finished wips on my docs tho, but if I stop writing it's usually bc it's not bringing me any joy anymore. the nanny x ceo tho.... I stopped that one bc I got a bit depresso espresso at the time and life got busy as shit but I want to finish it so badly.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I ask myself that every day kkkkkkkkkkk I guess the fact that I can write really quickly? like if I have an idea I can just write down a whole 10k in like. 2 or 3 days.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

first of all I can't shut the fuck up. I have to restrain myself when I want to write anything less than 5k. im not sure if it's a weakness per se but yeah.

I also am very aware I have issues with describing the locations and with ending a fic. like. I never fucking know how to.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't mind when it's specific words or the occasional phrase and there's a translation to it. other than that, I won't lie, I kindof despise it. I can't speak, for example, Italian, so what is the point of reading a fic where the whole dialogue is in Italian if I won't understand shit?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

you will have to talk to my lawyer to get that information.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

I couldn't possibly choose only one! all the fics I post is because they bring me joy and I love writing them, so I don't think I have a favourite.

tagging @yukierres @duquesademiel @golden-fairylights @chaesonghwas and @hrhgeorgerussell 💕💕

[rodolfoparras]

Y'all were talking about Digger in new suicide squad game but I just got clip compilation of Joker and hello?? I need that sassy little twink obliterated??

Also little plant anon I would love to tell you (and everyone else) more about Acheron but only if Alec won't mind me sending a block of text about him because I am physically incapable about shutting up about my baby 🫶🏻

Also I saw this and I thought of you Alec so here https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMM5DDS5T/

I keep getting a lot of Milkman stuff and I'll send them all your way

-🔮

Pls don’t come for me but twinks aren’t really my type 😭 I need my men to look like scary bears or like something the cat dragged in or else I’m not interested 😞

Also you’re more than welcome to share your oc sugar! Id love to hear about something you really love and care for!

Oh god 🧎🏻‍♂️I need the sweet thing down on his knee convincing you he isn’t a doppelgänger and of course you know he isn’t he’s got the very same tired eyes (maybe a bit glassier than usual) the Hooked nose you love so much that’s now sporting a flush but god it’s funny to make him frustrated and of course you’re cruel as ever to force him to convince you he isn’t one of them telling the sweer thing to get down on his knees which he immediately does, eyes still glassy but mouth agape, looking curious as ever

However the confusion disappears as you undo your zipper, and he licks at his lips in curiosity

“Convince me then,” you say with a cheeky smile on your face, pants and boxers now pulled down and exposing your half hard cock, while inching closer to the man.

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Friday Monday Kiss Tag

Thanks for tagging me, @autumnalwalker! :D We'll just pretend this is Friday ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Rules: post a smooch between your OCs for Friday. It can be as light as a peck or as intense as a makeout. It can be romantic or platonic or familial. As long as a smooch takes place it’s free reign!

Here's an excerpt from Silver Glass:

Louis appears in the doorway with an uncharacteristically serious face. "Can we talk?" he says, and shuts the door without waiting for an answer. Now David feels foreboding. "What's wrong?" "My mother has taken it into her head to do some matchmaking. She's invited an American heiress." Is that all? David feels sorry for the heiress. "Poor girl. Poor you, too." Louis shakes his head. "No, not for me! She wants Lennox to marry her! And his mother wants it too!" If he had punched David in the face he could hardly have shocked him more effectively. David sinks down onto the window-seat and stares at him in a daze. Louis does his best to make things better. "I'm sure he doesn't like the girl. She isn't here yet. I bet you twenty shillings she's one of those unbearable shrill brats. She wouldn't be Lennox's type even if he was interested in women. And I saw how he looks at you." The confirmation that Alec is interested in him makes the possibility of his marriage even worse. David makes up his mind on the spot that he hates this unknown American heiress. He finds Alec out in the gardens, sitting under a tree. He's reading a letter with a grim expression. "Have you heard about the American woman?" he asks, and can't quite keep the distaste out of his voice. "Unfortunately yes," David says. He sits down beside him. Alec folds up the letter. "My mother tells me all about her here. How much money her father makes every year, how eager he is for his daughter to have a title. I don't think my mother suspects about… about me. But she wants to see me married, and my father wants me to marry money." David listens with a sinking heart. He always knew there was never any future for him and Alec. The best they could hope for was if Alec stayed a bachelor and let his "best friend" live with him. But marriage… David can't imagine Alec being happy with a woman. And he has his pride. Some men might be happy with being the secret lovers of married men. But not him. He won't share his lover with anyone. After a pause Alec seems to come to a decision. "It would be cruel to her and unfair to me. I won't marry her." "Thank God," David says without thinking. Too late he realises he's given too much away. If Alec didn't already know, then he certainly does now, and there's no way to take it back. They stare at each other. Alec's face is impassive but a storm of emotion is raging in his eyes. He reaches out. Slowly, as if he thinks David might run away, he reaches out and cups David's face in his hand. David clasps his hand over Alec's to stop him pulling away. "David," Alec whispers, and it sounds like a prayer. He leans in, and David meets him half-way, and his lips really are as soft as David had wondered.

Tagging @writernopal, @digital-chance, @wmlittlemore-is-writing, @deanwax, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

Also adding Glass's taglist: @writingpotato07, @oh-no-another-idea, @sarahlizziewrites, @lightgriffinsect, @kittensartswriting, @acertainmoshke, @author-a-holmes, @sam-glade, @late-to-the-fandom (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

[denaliwrites]

Now and Again We Try to Just Stay Alive

Alec Hardy x GN!Reader

Summary: Alec tries to help you through a rough patch.

Soundtrack: Never Too Late by Three Days Grace

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Symptoms of Severe Depression, Angst.

You groan as the stupid, annoying little jingle sounds on your phone for the millionth time that morning. "Shut. Up!" you growl at the device, on the edge of throwing it into the wall across the room.

Deep down, you know it's not the phone's fault.

It's Alec's.

He just won't. Stop. Calling you. The ringing has been incessant, all morning, almost without pause. Not even just this morning, either, but for the last three days.

Even deeper down, you know he's worried about you. That he's only calling so much because you haven't picked up. He must think you're in some perilous situation, or maybe he thinks you're dead.

With the way you've been treating yourself lately, it's frankly a surprise you're not on your way.

You're startled by a pounding on the door that's so strong it shakes the whole house, and by the desperate and worried call of your name in Alec's voice.

You do not want to get up. You can't even begin to describe just how much you do not want to get up. You'd rather eat a Carolina Reaper whole than open your door. You'd rather eat a bucket of Carolina Reapers than face Alec after having ignored him for three days.

The pounding is insistent and starting to beat in time to the pounding in your head, where a headache is starting to bloom.

Finally, you throw yourself up and storm to the door and throw it open, glaring at the man on the other side. "What?" you all but roar at him from the other side of the threshold, the only thing that stands between the two of you.

He's startled, but you can tell right away that he's worried. His brows furrow as he takes you in -- how disheveled you are, how your features are slightly sunken in, how dark circles run under your eyes.

"Oh, hell," he breathes as he steps towards you, his face falling when you take a step back in response.

You wonder what you look like to him -- he must think you look like a rabid animal. Unwell. Unsafe. Doomed.

"Darlin'," he coos softly, and it's the last thing you expect from him. Kindness. You don't deserve it, you realize. "What's happened?" You can't take how gentle his voice is, how caring his eyes are, how delicately he pulls you into his loving embrace. "Oh, darlin', you're a right mess, aren't you?" he asks softly, and there's no disdain or disgust or hatred there like you expected.

A tear falls from your eye, silently, but you barely notice, too wrapped up in Alec, both literally and figuratively.

"How long's it been since you've showered?" he asks, voice still soft. He's talking to you like he would a scared and wounded animal.

You hate that it's working. "F-four days," you manage to whimper out.

"Oh, darlin'," he sighs, and suddenly you've been scooped up into his arms, and he's carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. You're set down on the toilet, and then he sets about getting the water in the bath warm. "Shower or bath?" he asks, turning to look back at you.

You wring your hands, offering only a few meaningless, uselessly muttered syllables at first.

"Come on," he coaxes, placing a comforting hand on your knee and squeezing.

"I... I guess a bath..." you murmur, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Bath it is," he says casually, like he's not having to care for you like he would a child, or a rescued dog. That's all you were in the end, a rescue. An animal forever marred by its life as a stray.

He waits for the tub to fill in silence, and you make no effort to fill the void in conversation. When he's satisfied, he turns the water off, helps you up, and begins undressing you carefully, gently.

"That's it," he coos as he helps you into the water. It's blissfully hot, and you can't help the little breathy moan you let out at the delicious feeling of it on your skin. "That's good, darlin'. You're bein' so good for me."

You whimper as he carefully helps you down, the heat of the water slowly enveloping you and doing more to soothe you than maybe anything else ever had.

"How long's it been since you've eaten?" cuts through the luxurious haze, and you finally look at him, finally meet his eyes. "If you wash yourself, I'll go make you somethin' to eat. Or would you rather I help you in here?" There's no malice in his voice, no accusation or anger. He doesn't seem upset that this is who he's in a relationship with, who he decided to be partners with, who he decided to love.

It breaks you a little, that all he seems to want is for you to be better.

"I, erm..." you croak, shifting uncomfortably. "F-four days..." You look away as he sighs. "I, erm... I can... handle. This." It's the least you can do, this one menial task.

His hand strokes your hair for a moment, before he coaxes your head to his chest. A kiss is placed atop your forehead, and then he's leaving you. You watch him go, already missing him.

You stay in the water until it runs cold. The washing up only takes a few minutes, but it's the most comfortable you've felt in days and you're not too eager to leave it, at least not until you have to.

You realize you must've fallen asleep at some point, because when you get out of the bath, your dirty clothes are gone and have been replaced by your favorite sweater -- a big, fluffy thing that runs down to your mid-thigh. You dry yourself with a towel on the rack, then slip on the underwear he left you, pull on the oversized sweater.

Padding out into the communal space of the flat, you see Alec working in the kitchen. He sees you -- you know he does, because your eyes meet -- but he says nothing, letting you broach the physical and verbal barriers between you.

"Thank you," you say softly as you make your way into the kitchen, rummaging in the fridge for a moment for a water bottle. The moment you see it you realize how desperately thirsty you are, but you take your time drinking it.

"It's not a problem," he says after a long stretch of silence. "You know I care for you, don't you?"

Finally, the accusation you've been waiting for. "Yes," you reply quietly. Sadly.

"I... I wish you'd told me what was goin' on," he says, turning to face you. "I'd have helped. Tried to, anyway."

"You couldn't have," you tell him, and you mean it. "It's not... you can't help with this. I'm sorry."

"Then I could've been here, with you... what a terrible thing to go through alone."

You feel yourself choking up, and struggle to swallow it down. "N-no," you whimper. "I wanted to be alone. Want to be. Alone."

"Well now, that's just too bad, isn't it?" he asks, and you're surprised to hear a teasing note in his voice. Even more surprised to see his lips quirk, ever so slightly, and only for a moment. "You're stuck with me, darlin'."

You smile, and it's only half forced. Some of it is, remarkably, genuine.

"Darlin'," he sighs, and you don't like how serious his voice is now. "I can't pretend to get what's goin' on, but... it's okay if sometimes all ye can do is just survive, y'ken?"

You're not sure why, but that breaks you, and you dissolve into tears. Alec is quick to approach, wrapping his arms around you in an impossibly tender embrace that radiates warmth and love.

"Hush, darlin', it's all right," he coos, rocking you gently in a steady rhythm. "You're all right now."

You weren't. You both knew it. But you thought, maybe, you could be, with Alec's help.

[nickeverdeen]

hi! how are you? are you still doing match-ups for harry potter? i would prefer a male match up, please. if not and you no longer doing matchups then you can delete this and I'm sorry to bother you.

appearance: she/her. i'm 5'3 and a bit chubby. i have a strong southern accent. i have mid-length light brown hair with blonde highlights and blue eyes. i wear glasses and i have faint freckles that really come out during the summertime (my fav season). i have little scars all over me from my love of being outside and my cat. i love doing my skincare/hygiene things, it gives me such serotonin. my fingernails are always painted bright colors. i always have a scrunchie on my wrist. i love jewelry, especially necklaces so i am almost always wearing a necklace of some sort. i don't know how to put my style into words so here are a few pics i found of my style:

personality: i am argumentative, sassy, sarcastic, and opinionated. i am also kind, almost to a fault because i can literally not be mean. no matter how much a person gets on my nerves, and they do, very much, i just cannot be mean. i blame my parents. i love to learn everything except for math, i have dyscalculia (which is a learning disability in math, it's sort of like dyslexia but math). but i love everything else, especially history and english. i am a huge bookworm, my favorite genres are fantasy and greek mythology. i love playing my own therapist and finding out why i do things. i am a very curious person so my google history is very strange and i fall into Wikipedia rabbit holes very easily. i am a very emotional person but i hate crying in front of people, i like to cry by myself and then be comforted. i am observant and i learn a lot from watching those around me. i am quiet until you get to know me, then i won't shut up. i am very sentimental and if you give me anything, card, sticky note, whatever, I'm keeping it. i write letters to get my emotion's out a lot but never send them.

random facts: i love music, my favorite artists are taylor swift and alec benjamin but i also love classical music and lofi. my favorite band is 5sos. i want to learn to play the keyboard and guitar. i am obsessed with photography. i love being outside.

have a great day!

Of course I still do match ups!

Btw you look amazing!!!

Your Harry Potter match is…

Cedric Diggory

Cedric loves your accent

He definetly buys you some jewelry like rings or necklaces

You can’t be mean? He’s gonna be mean for you if it’s really a case

Cedric is very protective towards you and if someone is making you uncomfortable, he’s most likely to confort them about their actions

Complimenting you 24/7

To him you’re the most intelligent person in the whole world

He doesn’t know what Math is, but after you’d show him, he definetly wouldn’t like it nor understand it

“I’m sorry princess, but fuck Math, it’s so stupid”

Cedric doesn’t read much, but he’d love to listen to you telling him what’s going on or what happened in your book

Jokes about Greek Mythology

As much as it hurts Cedric, he is letting you crying by yourself if that’s what you need, but expect a huge comfort from his side later

Hands holding

Cedric loves to talk to people and if you’d later tell him what you learned from observing others, he’d be shocked and suprised that you read so easily in people

Gives you his scarf in winter so you wouldn’t get cold

Only if you’d want the scarf of course

Walking dates

Cedric is 6’1 and you’re 5’3 so expect a LOT of joking about your height

Takes you out to sit near the lake or just somewhere quiet

Sometimes he’d just play some of your favourite songs and dance with you in your or his dorm

Hates it when others talk shit about you

Cedric is VERY supportive

————————————————————

[artdecosupernova-writing]

Relationship Snippet Tag

was tagged by @outpost51, thanks!! tagging @drippingmoon, @drabbleitout, @pertinax--loculos, @druidx, and anyone who wants to do this ✌🏽

Rules: Share a few lines or a snippet that sums up the main relationship(s) in your WIP.

As usual I went ham oops.

A few from the Darkspace Portent series, centering Warren and Thrive:

Thriving: Eternal—

"Groundmasters," Thrive said. "The most expendable of the ranks." "The higher-ups must have a lot of faith that you won't obliterate them," Warren said. "Mostly unfounded." Warren snorted and climbed into the shuttle. A silver tendril whipped out and grabbed him by the wrist, the sharp edges digging into his skin, and though he couldn't feel it, Thrive stepped up and separated the limb from the beast's body with an effortless tug. It wailed and slammed itself into the wall as the other two did nothing. Black fluid leaked from its wound and Thrive carefully freed Warren's wrist. The cut wasn't too bad, not compared to every other wound he'd received during his never-ending adventure. It stopped bleeding as soon as Thrive touched it.

Thriving: Meridian—

[Vriea] looked around the comm hub. "Well...we're hanging in there. If you're looking for [Thrive], I can grab him real quick." "No need. Can you run me through to his office?" "Sure...I need to warn you, though, he's not in a good mood. He's just returned from Leviathan." Warren stretched his back. "Great. I'll handle it." Vriea signed off and routed his call to Thrive's office, and after a second he connected on what appeared to be the wall panel beside his desk. He stood at the picture window, staring outside, a deep frown on his face. "Hello, love of my life." Thrive turned his scowl onto the screen.

Centering Guetry and Scotty and his other partners:

Thriving: Aurora (Guetry/Scotty/Mercury)—

"I am now in control of armor and form suit regulation," Scotty said. "Provided I choose not to completely take over autonomy and run a rampage through Torris before fleeing the planet via any one of you, I will monitor your vital signs and administer temperature control." Warren snorted, yanking the lever back on his rifle and setting off the neon stripe on the side. "Guetry, get your boy." "Bad Scotty!" Guetry barked. "If you're gonna take over anyone's body, it's gonna be mine." "That's a visual I really am not proud of having," Mercury groaned.

Thriving: Rebirth (Guetry/Scotty)—

[Guetry] pointed to the empty stretch of space, where the Palace's cloak failed and fell away like the petals of a dead flower. His port eased into a low lavender shine, and he stared as it traveled down his arm tattoo. "I apologize for the delay," Scotty said. "Traffic was heavy." Guetry let out a deep exhale and screwed his eyes shut, the ghost of a smirk crossing his features. "…Feels so good to have you inside me again, Scotty." "You'll just say anything at all, won't you," Warren muttered.

From WASTE:

Guetry and Oren—

[Oren] snickered and leaned back, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. "Alright. Maybe I deserved that. What's the set for the next gig?" "Don't pretend you give a shit about my music," I laughed, already halfway into loading the beat guitar with loops from our latest tracks. A couple of favorites, actually—ones Alec had put together and got bouncy whenever she played them. "Hey, I'm trying my best, here." A bit of Oren's levity faded and I desired very strongly to see if I could make it disappear altogether. Before I could, though, he leaned toward me and rapped the instrument on my lap with the tip of a finger. "I'm here, and I'm asking, and I'd actually like you to play me something right now." I dropped the tablet onto the couch next to me and folded my arms. "How about instead of doing that, you come see a fucking show? Throw a few slats our way, buy a couple shirts, stop being a goddamn deadbeat for once in your life, Altavian?"

Uh...Guetry and Oren 😬—

I kicked a discarded box over to the couch and perched on it, pipe and bottle in one hand and the other still clutching my gun. I used the edge of the bottle lip to scratch my temple. "I'm so fucking tired of you," I grunted, my hoarse voice breaking an unknown curse of silence. Oren leaned forward, frowning deeply. "Look...you didn't deserve that. I never should've done it." "Did you fuck her in my bed?" "No," Oren said immediately, which meant it was a lie. Fantastic. "I wouldn't do that to you." "Oh, but you'd go behind my back and hurt me like this, no problem!" "Can you blame me though, man?!" Oren bellowed at me. "Whenever I'm with a guy I get to a point where I start craving pussy real bad. You can't provide that for me, so I lose my head a little. I'm weak!" "You're weak?! You're pathetic!" Anger building in my chest again, I got to my feet and punted the box across the room. It smashed through a glass wall and embedded itself into my bedroom door. "Fucking Christ, Altavian!" "Hey, don't lose your head, Guetry. I love you, okay? I'm sorry. It's never gonna happen again." I'd already halted dead in my tracks, frantically dragging from my pipe to erase the path toward a total meltdown from in front of me. "You love me," I muttered. I eyed the shards of glass on the floor, dreading the cleanup. Prickling arced over my face and down my throat. My heart startled against my ribs. "You're fucking trash, dude."

Guetry and Scotty—

You've done more than most, Guetry. How many humans out there are willing to hold children of a different species in their last hours and tell them repeatedly that they are loved? This quality is rare, a precious gem hidden among humankind. You have given your life to protect others. My eyelids pried themselves open, nearly glued shut with a layer of crust, and through a blurry film, right over my head, beneath the dimmed lights of my hospital room, floated a gently spinning ball of glowing neon purple, bigger than my head. It seemed like he was smiling at me, but I couldn't have even told you my name at that point. For all I knew, I'd hallucinated everything. Scotty's mechanical rings rotated around his nucleus and I watched them with wide, barely-functioning eyes, a breathing tube doing a fine job of making sure I still had no gag reflex. It is high time someone protected you.

Guetry and Mercury—

"This is where we part ways, I'm afraid." I tipped my head, my lips curling into a bittersweet smile that I didn't want to maintain for too long. "You sure?" "Yeah." Mercury turned away from me to watch the ships coming into dock for a moment. "I think...maybe you've got a lot goin' on." "I'm pretty unattached, actually. I've got some time off and I haven't had any of that in a long while, and…" When Mercury imparted a knowing and sympathetic look onto me, I sighed, nodding. "I know. It's...a lot. And I wouldn't ask you to deal with it." Mercury searched my face. "We'll see each other again. I know it. If we're supposed to, we will." I sniffed. "Are we supposed to?"