#and don’t get me started on him projecting on 15 year old miles

[bellakitse]

Greener on the Other Side

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid."

+

Alex hasn't heard anything about TK Strand in over four years. That's about to change.

Alex Fletcher walks into Gramercy Tavern twenty minutes later than he agreed to meet his friends. He already dreads what is sure to be a lecture on his constant tardiness from the group, but more so, what he knows will be pointed looks when they see he’s come alone instead of with his boyfriend.

Spotting them to the left of the restaurant, he starts to make his way over to them. “Sorry, sorry,” he starts to say with a charming smile as all five of them look up at his voice, hoping to curb the scolding before it starts. “The 6 train was an absolute mess. It got the 33rd street and then refused to go forward.”

Liz and Becca share a look at his excuse, and Alex has to keep from rolling his eyes at them. He gets it. Being late is one of his less desirable character traits, and they find it annoying, but after over a decade of friendship, he thinks they should get over it by now.

“Yeah, the trains have been acting up all week,” Malcolm offers while his wife Patricia gives him a small smile, the two of them ever the peacemakers of the group. “Sit down, man.”

Alex offers his friends a more sincere smile, shaking hands with him and his other buddy Chris before giving all three women kisses on the cheek.

“Where is Dean?” Patricia asks politely, and Alex winces at her mistake. It’s been a while since he and Dean ended things, but it’s also been a while since Patricia has joined her husband at one of their dinners.

“We broke up a few months ago,” he tells her, his face feeling tight from his fake smile. “I’m dating someone new now. His name is Wallace.”

“Oh,” Patricia says softly, going a little red in the face at her blunder. “My apologies, Alex.”

He waves her off, wanting to move on from the embarrassing moment quickly. “No worries, Patty,” he says to her. “And Wallace wanted to come, but he had to work,” he explains, trailing off lamely, not believing the lie himself, but it’s not like he can tell his friends that Wallace simply didn’t want to come because he thought it would be boring.

His friends all give him understanding, if not quite believing looks, and Alex wonders just how pathetic his expression is that they don’t push for more.

The mood around the table is awkward and quiet, making his skin feel tight. Thankfully their waiter comes over to take their drink order, easing the moment, giving him something else to focus on.

He starts to loosen up once there is a vodka soda in his hand. He listens to Liz as she talks about her latest architecture project, laughs at the funny story Chris tells them about his 1st-grade class painting the class bunny with washable markers. He’s enjoying their company, forgetting for a moment that his boyfriend should be there with him getting to know his friends when Becca’s eyes light up as Chris wraps up another story about his students.

“You guys will never believe who I saw yesterday walking out of FAO Schwarz,” she starts, her brown eyes lighting up with the chance to share some juicy gossip.

Alex leans in, already intrigued by the look on her face.

“Who?” Liz asks with a grin, curious herself.

“TK Strand,” Becca answers, saying the name with emphasis, and Alex gets why even as he feels shock go through him. It’s been over four years since he has seen or heard from TK. Not since the night he stopped him from proposing, confessing he was in love with someone else.

Mitchell, he thinks bitterly as he takes a large gulp of his drink. In the end, he’d turned out to be Alex’s own personal karma for hurting TK.

Walking in on him and another guy from their gym eight months into their official relationship had been a kick in the teeth and a hard lesson to learn.

He shakes his head to clear it from the lousy memory just in time to hear Becca’s following comment, shocking him more than her first. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, not believing what she’s just said. “Say that again, please.”

Becca looks at him, hesitating as she bites down on her lip, looking remorseful for a moment, probably remembering that out of all of them, he’d be the one with the most invested interest.

“I said he’s married,” she repeats herself softly, giving him a pitying look. “And he has a kid. They were coming out of the toy store when I bumped into them, and he introduced them to me. His husband’s name is Carlos, and their little boy is Luca. Really cute kid – was talking a mile a minute about all the toys in the place, and given all the bags they had, they must have bought him half the store.”

“Wow,” Chris breathes out, his surprise evident. “I can’t believe he’s married and with a kid. How old do you think?”

“Four,” Becca answers instantly. “I asked Luca, and he held up his fingers.”

Alex shakes his head again. It’s been four years since he and TK were together, and he has a four-year-old son. “That doesn’t make any sense,” he says mostly to himself.

“I get the feeling he’s adopted,” Becca answers. “Or maybe Carlos’ son,” she continues with a shrug. “But he called TK dad.”

“What was the husband like?” Liz questions, and Alex is grateful because he can’t bring himself to ask.

“He was polite and friendly,” Becca pauses, shooting him another look before continuing. “Ridiculously hot, and hopelessly in love with TK. I spent maybe ten minutes with them, and you guys should have seen the way he looked at him. It was like TK hung the moon.”

The table is quiet for a moment. For his benefit, he’s sure, as he tries to process everything he’s learned, when Liz speaks up again.

“Good for TK. He deserves that and more,” she says with a smile on her face that takes a hard edge when he shoots her a glare. “What?” she questions, her whole expression challenging him. “You didn’t take care of him when you guys were together, and he’s a great guy. I always liked him even though we lost touch after you broke up. I’m glad he’s found happiness.”

Alex bites down on the urge to lash out at his friend, not only is it a losing battle with Liz, but deep down in the parts of him where he has buried his guilt and shame at his past actions, he knows he can’t argue with the truth she just laid on him.

 ֎֎֎

 The rest of the dinner is awkward to say the least. Even though they move on from TK, Alex can’t stop thinking about his ex and what he’s learned. He pulls Becca to the side as they’re leaving, grilling her for any more information she might have.

She finally tells him TK had mentioned they were staying with his mother and little brother – one of the few things he did know about TK and his family since Gwyneth and his father ran in the same legal circles. He’d learned about the woman’s surprise pregnancy almost three years ago.

Becca looks at him as he absorbs the information before letting out a heavy sigh, reminding him not to do anything stupid.

He’d given her an absent nod that even he didn’t believe. Which is probably why he’s outside of Gwyneth’s Park Avenue apartment in a hat and sunglasses like a stalker, hoping to catch a glimpse of his ex and his husband.

Whether luck is on his side or karma wants to teach him another lesson, he doesn’t have to wait long. He’s been outside of the swanky apartment building for maybe 15 minutes, trying to decide what exactly he thinks he’s doing, when the front door opens and out walks the person he wants to see.

He ducks behind a tree just in time to not be spotted, peeking behind it to look at the small family.

TK, at 26-years-old, had been a beautiful man; Alex remembers that well. But now, at 30, he’s even more stunning if that’s even possible. He walks out of the building with a tall, muscular man Alex instantly recognizes as the ‘ridiculously hot’ mystery husband. Each of them with a little boy in their arms.

“So what are we doing today?” he hears TK ask with a grin on his face as the little boys instantly start to chant, ‘Park, park, park!’

“I wanna see the penguins, Dada,” exclaims the little boy in the arms of TK’s husband. Carlos and Luca, he remembers.

TK smiles softly at his son before looking at the child in his own arms. “What about you, little brother? Do you want to go to the Central Park Zoo and see the penguins?” he asks, tickling his chin, getting a happy giggle along with a nod from the little boy.

TK’s grin grows before he looks over at his husband, getting a nod from the man too.

“It’s unanimous then,” TK proclaims in an animated voice that has the boys lighting up. “To the park! To the penguins!”

The pair of boys let out a ‘yeah!’ leaning over at each other to share a clumsy high-five that has the adults laughing.

“You just had to rile them up, troublemaker,” Carlos scolds TK, and he might be a stranger to Alex, but he can tell it’s said with amused fondness.  

“You love me,” TK teases his husband, going easily when the man reaches out to tug him in closer by his shirt, turning his face up as his husband leans in to kiss him, tilting to the side to keep the boys out of the way.

Alex swallows hard at the display. Even from where he’s hiding, he can see TK’s bright smile and dancing green eyes once he and his husband break the kiss.

“Always, my love,” Carlos tells TK as he kisses the side of his face adoringly.

“Dada, Papa,” Luca groans out. “Kissing later, park now,” he continues, much to the amusement of the two men.

“So demanding,” TK teases, leaning in to kiss the little boy’s cheek too, laughing at the face he makes. “Okay, let’s go.”

They start towards the park, and Alex hesitates for a moment. He’s seen and heard TK and his family with his own eyes and ears. It’s obvious his ex is happy and not at all thinking about him. He should turn around in the opposite direction and leave before his luck runs out and they spot him. It’s the reasonable thing to do, and yet he finds himself following them about half a block back, keeping his head down.

He can’t hear them from this distance, but he can watch them. He takes in the way the two men hold hands while each holding on to a child, listening and chatting with the two little ones. Everything about them screams family, and Alex can’t deny the dull ache it causes inside his chest.

Is this what he and TK could have had?

He follows them through the park until they come to a series of benches. He watches as TK hands over his little brother to his husband, the man easily carrying both kids. TK sits down, but no one else does. Instead, he waves at them as his husband walks away with the children, leaving TK alone.

Alex hesitates again. This is his chance to approach TK, and yet he’s frozen in place by indecision.

A moment later, his ex takes the choice out of his hand.

He startles as TK turns his head to look straight at him with a raised eyebrow. “Are you just going to stand there?” he calls out to him casually, the picture of calm as he places his arms on the backrest of the bench. It’s different from the TK he remembers, who was always constantly bouncing his legs with nervous energy.

“How did you – “ he starts, feeling awkward and off-balance.

“I didn’t,” TK answers with a shrug as Alex gets closer to him. “It was Carlos who realized. He’s a cop. Noticing weirdos is kind of his job.”

Alex cringes at the descriptor as he comes to a stop in front of him. “Hi, TK,” he says lamely, wincing again at the high pitch sound of his voice.

TK raises an eyebrow at him again. “Hello, Alex. Any particular reason you’re following us in that get-up?” he questions, pointing at his hat and sunglasses.

Alex feels his face grow hot at the question. He reaches up, taking them off. “Becca said she saw you,” he says uncomfortably, getting a casual nod back from his ex. “And I got curious,” he continues weakly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“That sounds like poor impulse control,” TK mutters to himself. He moves to the side, leaving half the bench open for Alex to decide if he wants to take a seat or not.

Alex would be embarrassed by the speed with which he takes the offer, but the joy at being allowed to get closer overrides that. Neither says anything after he sits down, him because he’s nervous, TK it seems because he’s simply waiting him out.

“So,” he starts slowly. “You’re visiting?”

TK looks at him, seeming to study him before giving him a nod. “We try to see my mother and my little brother Robbie every few months. Sometimes they come to see us, but New York is always pretty in the spring, and Luca has never been.”

“That’s your son,” he blurts out, his face going hot again at the look TK shoots him.

“Becca shared everything, did she,” he questions with a dry smile, shaking his head to himself.

“The group had dinner,” he explains, not needing to add who exactly was there. There was a time when TK would have sat right next to him at one of those dinners, charming everyone with stories about fighting fires and daring rescues.

“Ah,” TK exhales softly. “It’s nice you all still do that. They’re good people. I liked them.”

“They liked you too,” Alex answers, giving TK a half-smile. “Liz was thrilled to hear that you’re married and have a kid. She’s happy you’re happy.”

TK smiles, this time more genuine. “That sounds like her,” he comments, looking nostalgic for the first time. “She was always kind to me,” he finishes, not adding anything else.

It goes quiet between them again, causing Alex’s nerves to fray at the edges. He’s not used to this TK. The one he remembers always filled the silence, even if it was just with nervous chatter.

“So, are you?” he can’t help but blurt out, swallowing nervously when TK gives him a curious look. “Are you happy?”

TK lets out a huff, and while he doesn’t smile or laugh, Alex can see a hint of amusement in his bottle-green eyes. “Is that why you’re here? You want to know if I’m happy?”

He feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand at the mocking he hears in TK’s voice. “Is that so crazy?” he questions defensively. “The last time we spoke wasn’t precisely the best encounter – “

“That’s because I was getting ready to propose to you and instead found out you were fucking around my back with a spin instructor,” TK interrupts him, surprising Alex with how calm he is. There is no anger or reproach in TK’s voice like Alex anticipated, just a simple fact. It hurts Alex more than he expected to witness how unaffected TK seems. “How is Mitchell by the way?”

Alex clenches his fists, his nails digging into his palms as embarrassment courses through him. He wants to stand up and walk away from this. He’s not sure what he’d hoped to accomplish by seeking TK out, but it’s clear now whatever it was, he isn’t going to get it.

He looks at TK to find a mild curiosity on his face, like Alex’s answer doesn’t really matter to him one way or another.

“We broke up,” he answers anyway, taking a breath to try to soothe the ache before his next words. “I found him in our bed with someone else less than a year after you and I broke up.”

“Well shit,” TK says quietly, letting out a breath of his own. He doesn’t look gloating the way he has a right to look. Instead, he looks at Alex with what can only be called compassion. “Karma didn’t just pay you back. It sucker-punched you in the face, huh?”

Alex lets out a startled laugh at the description. TK joins him with a chuckle of his own, and Alex welcomes it even if it’s at his own expense. They laugh for a few seconds before they let it trail off.

“To answer your question,” TK starts to say. He looks at him, bobbing his head softly. “Yes, I’m happy. I’m the kind of happy where I wake up in the morning, look at my husband sleeping, usually with our kid between us, and I can’t believe just how lucky I am.”

“You love him,” Alex whispers, not really needing an answer when he can see it clearly on his face.

TK answers anyway. “He’s my soulmate,” he says with a smile that isn’t directed at him at all. It’s directed at the man who walked away with two kids in his arms minutes before. “I used to think that was you,” he continues, his voice sounding far away, lost in the past while Alex aches in the present. “I was so sure of it once, and then I met Carlos. I was still a mess about you, and I wasn’t looking to fall in love at all, but there he was, and I fell. I fell so fast, Alex. Years later, I’m still falling in love with him every single day.”

“That sounds – “ Alex starts, exhaling through the dull throbbing in his chest. “Scary, honestly.”

TK smiles, bright and beautiful, just like Alex remembers. “It is,” he says with a short laugh. “It’s terrifying, but it’s also amazing, and I wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world.”

Alex nods quietly to himself.

“I’m sorry you haven’t found that yet,” TK continues softly because it seems that surprising Alex is the name of the game today. He gives TK a shocked look that has him giving Alex a compassionate look back. “I never wished you ill will. I was hurt and angry after everything went to hell between us, but in the end, I wanted you to find someone to love the way you couldn’t love me and for that person to love you back just the same.”

Alex swallows hard at TK’s words, feeling overwhelmed by them. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

TK looks away from him, and Alex follows his gaze to find that his husband and the kids are coming back with ice cream in their hands. “Thank you for saying that,” he says softly as he stands. He looks down at Alex, giving him a slight quirk of his mouth. “Goodbye, Alex. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Alex watches TK walk away from him, knowing it will be the last time he’ll see him. “Goodbye, TK,” he whispers at his back, feeling the loss more now than he did four years ago.

 ֎֎֎

 “Dada, we got ice cream!” Luca exclaims happily as he slurps on his spiderman popsicle.

“I can see that. Can I have a taste of spidey?” he questions, leaning in when Luca sweetly offers him his treat. “Mmm, that’s yummy. Thank you, sweetheart.”

Luca smiles up at him, his face already a sticky red and blue mess. He looks at Robbie to see his face is yellow from his Spongebob popsicle. He smiles at them fondly as he turns his backpack to his front, searching for the wet wipes to clean their faces.

“We got you a cone with sprinkles,” Carlos says with a smile, though TK can see the worry in his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

TK looks at his husband, taking in his concern for him along with his ever-present love, and smiles as he remembers what he just told Alex moments ago. The love he and Carlos share is so strong – it can be frightening at times to feel so much and so intensely for another person, but like he told Alex, he wouldn’t change it for the world when it means Carlos loves him back just as strongly.

“Yeah, baby,” he answers, reaching out to touch Carlos’ cheek. “Everything is okay,” he smiles at his husband before looking down at his son and little brother. “Better than okay because we’re going to go see some penguins!”

Luca and Robbie cheer happily.

“Let’s go, Robbie,” Luca says to his uncle, throwing an arm over the other little boy’s shoulder.

TK and Carlos watch them walk a few steps ahead of them, chatting away the way only little kids can.

“You sure you’re alright?” Carlos asks as he hands him a melting ice cream. TK takes it, giving it a few licks to keep it from dripping.

“I swear, babe,” he assures him as he wraps an arm around Carlos’ waist. “We talked, and then we said goodbye.”

“What did he want?” Carlos asks curiously.

TK shrugs. He’ll be honest even after talking to Alex; he’s still not entirely sure what the other man wanted out of the conversation. “I’m not even sure he knows,” he answers after a moment. “He apologized for the past and asked me if I was happy. Maybe he was feeling guilty.”

“What did you tell him?” Carlos questions, a smile playing on his mouth when TK shoots him a look. “What?” he asks innocently, and TK can’t help but chuckle at his fishing.

“I told him,” he starts to say, making sure that he’s holding Carlos’ gaze, as usual falling in love all over again as he gets lost in Carlos’ soulful brown eyes. “That every morning, I wake up amazed I got so lucky to love and be loved by you.”

Carlos pulls him to his side, pressing his face into his neck. “I’m the lucky one, Ty,” he whispers against his skin.

TK smiles at Carlos’ words, his smile growing as Luca shouts for them to keep up; the penguins are waiting. “We both are, my love.”

[silvercrystalwhump]

Taunting Terror

This is my Day 3 for @whumptober2021 (I forget the specific prompt, just the theme)

Vincent Shield belongs to @ashintheairlikesnow

Tag List: @finder-of-rings @whumpitywhumpwhump

TW: implied past noncon, Owen Grant, disassociation, intimate whimper, noncon touch (nonsexual), derogatory language, etc

-

Vincent idly listens to Han speak, his mind wandering miles away from the studio. Han practically prances from one topic to the other, half of everything he says has nothing to do with the project.

Ana looks just as bored. Her nails tap quietly against the table next to a beige coffee mug, “Han… our meeting was supposed to begin 15 minutes ago… we’re all here, so why the stalling?”

“Oh but we are,” Han says, waving his hand vaguely towards the door, “A representative from the producers needs to be here before we begin.”

“Why is Marie late,” Ana asks, “She is never late.”

Han, if the uncanny valley was a 50-year-old man, Williams leans back on a heel and watches the door, “Not Marie, someone else.”

Vincent glances down at his phone, 11:47 stares back at him. Before this new setback, he was going to meet Dmitri for lunch. The one thing he was looking forward to today more than likely is going to be postponed.

How in character.

The door opens and a pair of footsteps steps in, “Sorry I’m late, Marie wanted me to have everything on paper first.”

No.

Vincent does not turn around, why would he need to. The air in his throat grows claws and racks a passage down the back of his throat. Suddenly, his shirt is too tight and the air in his lungs is pressed far too much.

A pair of hands, familiar in cursed ways, slide around the top of the chair next to him. Only in his periphery does the tan suit jacket flick into view. Vincent focuses down on the scene and story papers in front of him.

Why?

Han’s lips start moving, but Vincent cannot hear him. Just his breathing… and Owen’s.

Then, the hand on his thigh.

The meeting doesn’t feel real.

Why this… why now?

Even the breathing falls silent. Just the silent drum of fingers on his thigh. The fingertips gently dig into his pants.

Please, leave me alone.

“Vincent!” Ana snaps, ripping Vincent from the brink. They’re standing outside the board room. Ana, face full of concern, watches him tentatively, “Are you alright?”

“Um, yes.” Vincent answers, shaking his head and the icy shards that sit behind his eyes. Glancing down at his phone, the number 12:31 stares up back at him.

“Are you sure,” Ana asks, eyes washing over him. “You went on full autopilot at the meeting the second Owen walked in.”

“I was just tired… and the wait was far longer than it should have been,” Vincent justifies, turning towards the corridor back to where his dressing room is situated. A ghostly hand curls up his leg and brings along with it a shudder.

“Are you sure?” Ana presses one final time. “You don’t seem well, did something happen?”

“No.”

Ana pierces her lips and looks across the hall, “Alright, I’ll see you on set tomorrow.”

“Looking forward to it,” Vincent responds as his mental script closes its curtains.

His mind stays closed as he walks, everything feels numb around him. As if every sense had pins and needles. Every edge is softened, so is how he thinks.

His hand reaches up and barely touches the keypad on the side of his room before.

“You know it’s incredibly rude to ignore someone, right?”

Vincent freezes. The realization takes far too long to settle in before Owen is almost pressed up against him.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Owen says, breath touching the back of Vincent’s neck.

“I didn’t hear you,” Vincent responds, impossibly grateful for the quiet footsteps that echo around them.

Vincent pulls his hand away from the keypad and forces his legs to turn around, panic strangling him from within.

Owen raises an eyebrow and leans the tiniest bit forward. “You’ve never been an unobservant person Vince? Are you sure you just didn’t hear me?”

“I have a lot of things to do,” Vincent mutters quickly, eyes flicking from one end of the corridor to the other, “Just… occupied.”

Please leave me alone. Please.

Owen leans in closer, nearly pressing his nose against Vincent's, "I said what was it like."

“What?” I can’t move. Why can’t I move!

Owen’s voice drops both quieter and more possessive. Vincent begs his muscles to move but the ice chaining them together refuses to budge. “Being someone’s fucking whore.”

“I beg your pardon,” Vincent says as he presses himself against his door. The wood panels against his back feel like a cage. A finger pokes into his sternum.

“Almost everybody has seen it Vince, pretending it was experimenting is only going to get you so far,” Owen growls, pushing into Vincent, “I’ve seen it.”

A pair of heels echo down the hall in their direction and Owen nearly flies off of him.

Vincent rights himself spins around to cover the keypad with one hand and type the code in with the other.

Marie walks past and says a few words to Owen, giving Vincent just a few seconds to slip inside his dressing room and lock the door.

As the heel clicks get quieter, a knock sends Vincent to the back of his dressing room.

“You’re mine Vincent, no somebody else fucking whore. Remember that.”

With bated breath, he listens to Owen walk away as well.

Vincent glances up at the clock on the wall, 12:43. He is supposed to meet with Dmitri in less than 2 minutes.

Instead, he curls into a corner of his dressing room, sinks to his knees, and cries.

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 15 ~Etched On Wood~

Previously in The Element of Surprise

Annalise perked up at Claire's feeble attempt to sound less grumpy. "Har de har har! I didn't realise you could be funny before coffee. A total package for a marauding pirate if I may say so."

"Tell that to Captain Beard," she mumbled, getting out of bed. 

"Aye, matey!" Annalise mischievously winked. "That's if he happens to be in Isle of Harris this weekend. Which is where, by the way, we're going, as in, now! So get packing!"

Claire stilled and shook her head. "Wot?" She began to shake her head, tugging the covers around her as she made her way to the dresser. "Oh no, no, no! I'm not leaving this place for any man or woman, including you, blondie! I've got a pile of work to do. You know I have deadlines."

"Oh no, you don't. You stop right there, missy! Have you forgotten you agreed with Jamie to take a weekend break?" 

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh, did he also tell you how he got me to agree?"

"No. But you can tell me later on the plane."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  Claire stood in the quaint wonderland of whisky, gin and assorted spirits, also known as The Island Spirit Whisky Shop. One side of the store was given over to the whiskies, while numerous craft gins and spiced rums were on the other. Absently, she touched one of the bottles of liquid gold, mentally calculating how many bottles she could fit in her small luggage to bring back as presents. When she heard laughter, she glanced up to find Annalise sampling a dram with the owner, effectively ending her dithering and opting to grab just a bottle of single malt in front of her instead. They'd just arrived in Stornaway over an hour ago and decided to put her gift shopping spree on hold .

Annalise raised a whisky glass and winked. "You better start getting busy. Our driver isn't going to hang around and wait for us all day. Found anything you like?"

Claire approached her friend and showed the bottle. "Aberfeldy, sixteen years old. For us tonight."

"Very nice. Glad to see you warming up to this trip for a change. How long has it been since you last checked your phone for Jamie's message?" 

"Five minutes," she replied, scrunching her nose at Annalise for bringing up the sore subject. She handed the bottle and her credit card to the shop owner before facing her friend. "I've sent Jamie a message, and he hasn't replied yet. He's got some explaining to do ...sending me away like this with too little notice." She let out an unladylike grunt. "Why can't our men be here? We're in a beautiful location ...romantic even ..." She waved a hand in the air to prove a point. "I don't understand why you're not so bothered not spending time with your boyfriend when you rarely see him, and you're only here until Monday."

"Oh, poor us girls! Without our men! God help us!"

Claire fought a smile. "Hey, now, if I recall correctly, I had to listen to you moan endlessly about not seeing Willie enough. What was that again, you said just a week ago over the phone?" She tapped her chin and pretended to go through her memory bank. "You can't stand living without him."

"Correction, missy. I told you I couldn't stand living on my own in London. Which means I'm not used to not having you around."

"Ah, my mistake. Must have misheard that part." Annalise snorted a laugh and went to grab a bottle of gin from the shelf, leaving Claire once again to thoughts of Jamie. Any day now, John would summon her back to London, probably with Mary Hawkins and Tom Christie in tow. Though she dreaded going back, she'd placated those thoughts by telling herself she'd be moving to the Highlands soon. 

Despite the valuable inroads to their relationship, Claire wondered if she would have given up London and her job so soon, supposing that Jamie hadn't had PTSD. Would their relationship have moved this fast? She immediately quelled that thought because deep down, she knew in her heart whatever their circumstances might have been, they would have chosen to be together whether it was too soon or not.

She glanced once more at her phone, inwardly debating whether to call Jamie or not. What the hell is he up to? She hadn't heard a peep from him since she'd left the cottage. Something was definitely up, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"So, this work of yours is moving along fast. I bet you can't wait to start your life in the Highlands with your love, no less. So, what's the plan? Are you and Jamie buying a bigger property together, or will you be staying in the cottage to see how the relationship pans out?" 

"His cottage for now. As for what lies ahead, we haven't talked about that far into the future yet."

"Quite right. Future planning is tedious, anyway. It's pretty obvious you and Jamie are meant to be together, no matter what. I saw it coming from a mile away. The way he looks at you ...you can literally see smoke coming out of his ears." Annalise comically waggled her eyebrows as she eyed the other sample bottles on the counter.

"Well, since we're talking about the future and wotnots," Claire began, lowering her voice, "I have been doing a lot of thinking myself. For starters, I want to have Jamie's babies one day." 

Annalise's eyes widened. 

She frowned. "Wot?"

"Babies?"

"Yes, babies." When Annalise continued to stare at her, Claire groaned. "Not now, though, silly! Our relationship might be going at full speed, but God ...I have other plans in mind before that happens."

"Yes, I get that ...but ...but have you and Jamie talked about babies?"

Claire gave the store owner an apologetic smile and pulled Annalise into the alcove by the window. "No. As I said, we haven't talked anything about the future. What's wrong with you? I know it's too early to be talking about babies, but everyone knows where our relationship is heading to. Eventually, somewhere down the line, starting a family would be the next step. Or did you think my move to the Highlands is experimental?"

"No! Of course not! It's not that ... it's..."

"It's wot?"

"I, ah ...the babies part."

"Jesus, Annalise, what's your fret about babies?"

"There's no fret!"

"What is it then?"

"I, ... I'm not sure if I should be the one telling you this, but ..."

"Tell me wot?"

"I thought you knew because why else would Jamie ..."

"Know what? For God's sake, spit it all out! It quite apparent you know something."

Annalise shook her head and sighed. "It's something Willie told me. It was right after when Jamie started to remember bits and pieces about his past. Willie thinks Jamie may have been deeply affected by what he'd learned. You know ...him witnessing your parents' death and you becoming an orphan at such a young age." She puffed out a breath. "Jamie confided to his brother that ...he doesn't want to have children because he doesn't think he'd be able to bear it if they would go through something as horrible as what you've both been through. I know that's not really Jamie talking, and I understand those fears are coming from a place brought about by his condition. Maybe it's something both of you should talk about. I thought Jamie might have already mentioned it."

Claire paused for a few heartbeats, absorbing Annalise's words. Should I be worried? A part of her knew it was his PTSD symptoms amplifying those fears in Jamie's head. The other part, she wasn't too sure. But he'd made so much progress, she thought. She waved a hand in dismissal and let out a humourless laugh. "Oh ... don't worry about it. I'm pretty sure Jamie didn't mean to say that in its entirety. You know how men are like ...they tend to have reservations about children and stuff like that in the beginning. Besides, he understands how his condition affects his reasoning, decisions and emotions. He's very aware of that. He told me so. So him saying not wanting to have children is not a projection of what's truly in his heart." She gave her friend a reassuring smile even though a smidge of uncertainty was starting to creep in. "Jamie and I are in love," she said with all the conviction she could muster. "And we've proven that with love, we can achieve anything. As for his current views about not having children, they will eventually change. After what he's been through, it's understandable he'd be worried about history repeating itself. He's slowly but surely recovering, and as soon as the new therapist arrives, it can only get better from there. I'm quite sure of it"

"Claire ..."

"There's nothing to worry about," she said firmly this time. 

Annalise grabbed her hand. "Claire ...I have no doubt that he loves you. Even a blind man can see that. But think about this. What if ...what if he can't give you what you want? I mean babies. That's what you want one day, isn't it?" When Claire nodded, she continued. "You should talk to Jamie about your dreams of having children one day before moving here to Scotland. I don't want you to invest your time and emotion in a relationship that will probably end in regrets. I like Jamie, and I love you, and I love the love you have for each other. But I don't want to see the both of you hurt ...just because you failed to see each other eye to eye. Please promise me you'll talk about this with Jamie before turning your life upside down and moving here to Scotland and start playing house. There's a lot at stake here, Claire. Please, just talk to him. At least you know if you're both on the same page or not."

"Fine. I'll talk to Jamie. But under one condition." Annalise nodded in response. "If we're going to have this break together, promise me to refrain from any more baby talks."

"You started it."

Claire sighed. "Yes, I did," she admitted. "But it ends now."

"Alright, but I'm only going to say one more thing and then we can go back to holiday mode." Annalise made a broad gesture. "I can see that our little talk rattled you a bit. And don't you dare deny it!" When Claire shrugged and made a gesture to carry on, she proceeded. "I just want you to know, despite the uncertainties you may be harbouring right now, ...thanks to my big mouth, nothing changes the fact that Jamie loves you. I'm sure after you've talked, you'll arrive at some compromise about this baby thingy."

Despite herself, Claire laughed out loud and rolled her eyes. "Holy hell, we sure are a bizarre duo, aren't we? Poor Jamie. Here we are talking about babies when he probably hasn't even thought about marriage. If he could hear us talk right now, he'll probably put me on the next flight to London."

Annalise looked at her sheepishly. "Or perhaps not. Shall we get going?"

She raised a dubious eyebrow at her friend. "Hey. What's that look for?" 

Annalise wandered back to the check-out counter, laughing. "That was my wise, venerable sage look. You like?"

"No, knock it bloody off!"

..........

Jamie pressed the cold pack against his throbbing eye and tried unsuccessfully to tamp down his irritation at Quentin. Stood in the cottage's open space lounge, which comprised the kitchen and dining area, he turned away to face one of the floor-to-ceiling windows. For the first time, he noticed the stunning vistas before him. Looking out to the south, there's the view of the village and valley, and the west the vast, beautiful beach, and to the north, the rolling hills. Under normal circumstances, he would have enjoyed the sceneries, but the crunching sound of Quentin's meat mallet on walnuts might as well have been a tree stump grinder splintering his skull.

"Do ye mind?" Jamie muttered, turning around to glower at Claire's uncle. "That godawful sound is making my headache worse." 

"Stop whingeing." Quentin didn't bother to glance up from the chopping board on which he seemed resolved to make continuous head-splitting rackets. "Because of you, I haven't eaten all day. What kind of boys' trip is this anyway? There's no food or booze except for the bottle of expensive champagne... these walnuts ...and that ..." He jutted his chin at the fruit basket and shook his head in disgust. "Sorry I can't accommodate your headache." He watched the walnut shell fly across the counter when his mallet hit the chopping board. "As for the black eye, I'm sorry about that too."

Willie chuckled from behind his open newspaper as he lifted his feet to rest them on the coffee table. "Everyone will now think Claire dropped one on ye. How did it happen again? I didnae quite catch the whole story since both of ye were too busy grumbling at one another when I arrived."

Jamie glared with one eye. "As ye've already gathered, Quentin did this." He pointed his index finger at the evidence and adjusted the cold pack with a free hand. "And I cannae for the life of me understand why it was supposed to be a good thing."

"I told you already ...we had a bit of miscommunication," Quentin shot.

"Miscommunication?" Jamie sputtered, throwing a hand in the air in disbelief. He spun around and faced Willie. "I said to him if I start having one of my panic attacks on the ferry..."

"...you wanted to be knocked out," Quentin interjected.  

"Jesus Christ! I never said that, and I wasnae having a panic attack. I was feeling queasy."

"Yes, so queasy he turned green," Quentin added, hammering the walnut with more force this time, making Jamie flinch at the offensive sound. "And here I thought he was having a panic attack. He never mentioned anything about being prone to seasickness. So when he started to act all weird on me, I decked him."

"On my eye of all places!" Jamie shouted, slamming the cold pack on the kitchen counter. "When I said I'd knock myself out, I meant I'd take my medication and sleep it off in the car." He pointed a finger to his eye. "Look at this ...I look like I participated in a pub brawl."

Willie glanced up before turning a page of the newspaper. "Aye, that ye do."

"Well, you should have told me more about your condition," Quentin stressed, pointing the mallet at him. "How was I supposed to know what a panic attack looks like?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "Even if it was a panic attack, what made ye think socking me on the eye is the answer?"

Quentin shrugged. "I guess I get panic attacks too, ...now there!" When Jamie turned away in frustration, he pressed on. "Look at the bright side ...I got rid of your seasickness and saved you from having a relapse."

"I told ye already I wasnae having a panic attack, and I havenae had one for some time now!"

"Hey, may I remind you that I offered to drive Claire and Annalise to the airport and fly in later as Willie did? Your brother would have been in a better position to deal with your condition. I know you wanted to talk more about that bloody bench, but ..." Quentin shook his head as if remembering something. "Say ...I still don't understand why we haven't gone altogether. All this palaver with keeping this whole thing a secret and Willie taking the next plane after dropping off the girls." He paused, his eyes narrowing. "Another thing, no one's told me yet where the girls were heading to."

Jamie gave his brother a warning cough.

Willie sighed and lowered his newspaper. "The lassies are somewhere having fun. Anyway, ye'll be getting yer wish granted. Ye'll be flying in my place when we return back to the mainland. Jamie told me CalMac ferries banned ye for a year."

Jamie bit back a smile at Willie's smooth change of subject.

"So Jamie told you." Quentin popped a walnut in his mouth. "Did he also tell you he didn't even try to explain to the police that it wasn't my intention to knock him out cold? That my intention was to help."

Jamie took a slow breath. "How could I? My head was still reeling from your punch. The police could only take in reports from eyewitnesses." 

Quentin cast the mallet aside and flattened both hands on the counter. "All right, all right ....never mind that. What's done is done, and I apologised already." He paused for a few beats and frowned. "So ... what's happening now? Why are we sitting around in this cottage when we could be organising some grub and booze?"

"Just hang fire for a little bit more." Jamie took out his phone and pretended to fiddle with it. It was becoming more difficult to distract Quentin by the second, but he needed to do this right if his plan was going to work. "The landlord is supposed to stop by. It shouldn't be long now."

"Well ..." Quentin glanced at the wall clock. "If the landlord doesn't come anytime soon, I'm going to find the nearest pub. I'm starving. And don't tell me to eat fruits. I want a proper hot meal. And I need a drink after the morning we had."

Not happening! Jamie couldn't have him doing that. "Look, dinnae start lining yer imaginary shots just yet. Pubs open much later here. Maybe while we're waiting, ye can show me that bench we were talking about." He gave Quentin a meaningful look. "Remember? It's one of the reasons why we came here for. Ye've delayed it long enough bashing those walnuts."

Quentin lifted an eyebrow. "Can you blame me? If we'd eaten first, we wouldn't be having this discussion, and we could be looking at that bench already. As it stands, I have to settle for walnuts. Besides, can't the bench wait? You said this trip would be entertaining. And smashing walnuts is not my idea of entertainment."

Jesus, why does everything have to be difficult with this man? 

Willie finally took pity on Jamie as he regarded them both with a mixture of impatience and amusement. "Look, I ken ye're both a bit on edge and didn't have a good start to the day." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I know ye're hungry, Quentin, and I know yer eye's in pain, Jamie, but bickering at one another is no' gonnae help yer cause." He clasped his hands and gave Jamie a knowing look. "Why don't ye both go and look at that bloody bench while I wait here for the landlord. That way, we're getting something done. Fair enough?"

"Fine." Jamie and Quentin said simultaneously.

Willie's head briefly fell back, and he heaved a relieved exhale up at the ceiling. "Finally, they agreed on something."

Quentin ignored Willie and looked at Jamie. "Right, we might as well." He made a sweeping gesture with his arm. "If you'll follow me," he instructed before heading for the front door.

Jamie glanced at his brother, who just nodded and returned back to reading the newspaper. Rolling his head on his shoulders, he followed Quentin out of the house and to the back garden. 

Halfway, Quentin glanced back at him. "So ...about that bench, you still remember this place?"

"Only vaguely," Jamie responded quietly, overcome with acute nostalgia as he began to take in his surroundings. 

The last few nights, while Claire had been cooped up in the shed doing edits, he and Quentin had been trying to piece their history together, mostly to help Jamie understand the past. It had been a frustrating feat at best for Quentin, trying to unravel Jamie's memories as a toddler that they'd almost laid the past to rest. Until Jamie had mentioned a bench with engravings in a garden of a coastal retreat, he'd once visited as a wee bairn. To his astonishment, Quentin had immediately known the place. The more they'd talked about it, the more the memory of that day made sense and became vivid until an idea came to Jamie's mind ...to use this trip for his plan.

When they reached the back of the house, they came to a stop, and there in the middle of the freshly trimmed lawn was the bench. Fragmented images began to flood Jamie's brain, colliding together to form a vivid picture. As if being pulled by an invisible force, he made his way towards the seat. Laying a hand on the surface, he caressed the weather-worn wood, relying on his heart to know what to search for. When he found the familiar yet foreign carving, he knew he'd made the right decision to arrange this trip. "Here it is."

Quentin stooped down beside Jamie to take a better look. "Jesus, it is really here," he whispered. "Just as Henry told me." He glanced at Jamie. "And you remembered. How old were you when you were last here?"

Jamie sat on the bench and briefly squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, he took a deep breath. "At the most, I must have been four. It was summer. My ma needed a break from us boys, so Murtagh took Willie and me on a trip here to visit Harry. Jenny stayed behind. I cannae mind what Harry was doing here, but I do remember him showing me this when my godfather disappeared into the house." His fingers traced the engraving. "I never understood then what it meant when he read it out to me. He'd told me it was our wee secret."

"It was a secret, alright. Henry wouldn't have wanted Murtagh to know." 

"Aye, I sort of caught the gist of it then even though I was too young to understand."

Quentin spoke with a distant look in his eyes. "Henry told me everything that happened that day and how it had been difficult for him to keep their trip here a secret from Julia. It was supposed to be a surprise."

Jamie couldn't help laughing out loud. He knew the feeling. "Aye, I can imagine," he replied, hoping Quentin would finally take the hint and see the real reason behind this trip.

"Did you know Henry had always wanted a son for his firstborn?" Quentin asked out of the blue. "Don't get me wrong, though. Claire was the light of his life, and he loved her. So much so, he would stare at her for hours while she slept. So Julia told me anyway. But he'd always said he wanted a son. I think it had something to do with him spending a lot of time with you and your brother during the summer, even before he met Julia." He smiled at Jamie. "He had fond memories of you and your brother, and it was very apparent from the stories he told me of you."

"A son," Jamie murmured, shifting on the bench as another memory popped up. "Aye, he'd mentioned something about wanting a son. He used to joke about having one, one day ...a strong lad like me were his words." He got up from his position and scoured the seat once more with his fingers and eyes, trying hard to remember where the other etching was. "I seem to recall myself asking Harry what if the baby turns out to be a girl. I cannae mind his reply, but he told me to pick a girl's name because he'd already had one for a boy. After I picked one, he carved both names we came up with on this bench ... it's here somewhere."

"Really?" Propping his specs on his nose, Quentin hunched over and began to search. "Can you remember the name you chose?"

He shook his head. "I probably came up with something daft ...like some cartoon character Jenny used to watch. "

"Or perhaps not." Quentin hunkered down, gliding his hand over the wooden surface of the edge of the bench. "Take a look at this." He stood up and took a step back to allow Jamie to see better.

What Jamie saw next took his breath away and only confirmed that niggling feeling in his guts. It hadn't been a misplaced memory nor a dream. He unseeingly watched Quentin squat down again to take a better look at the engraving, barely able to formulate words to express his emotions over the thoughts running through his head. Was this Harry's way of sending him a message ...a blessing of some sort? Or was it just some quirk in the universe, and everything had been purely coincidental? If it was the former, he'd been taken on a merry rough ride, and he could almost envision Harry's delight at his handiwork, watching them by the sidelines. Like Quentin, he was momentarily at a loss for words.

"You know, Henry's been gone for years," Quentin finally spoke after a long silence. "And it astounds me that you refer to him by his nickname with such familiarity. Only Julia called him Harry. As a matter of fact, now that I think of it, sometimes you talk about him as if he's still alive. You may have forgotten many of your memories of Harry, but it's quite obvious the special bond you had with him is still there, and it must have made an impact on your life."

Jamie almost laughed out loud. If only Quentin knew. He debated whether to say anything about Harry's mysterious appearances, but after a few indecisive heartbeats, he thought, bugger it. He might as well let the cat out of the bag. "Harry has appeared to me," he blurted rapidly before he could change his mind. "Numerous time. As solid and as real as we are standing here right now."

Quentin frowned. "What do you mean?"

Briefly, he filled Quentin in on the mystery that was Harry, from the first time the appearances began and everything in between and watched an array of expressions register on the older man's face. "I've only shared this story with Willie and Claire, and now ...you. It's not something I like to share with just anyone. But because ye're Harry's brother, I thought ye ought to know as well."

Quentin let out a low whistle. "That's some story. I don't know what to say. I've never believed in all these mumbo-jumbo spirit sightings, but ..." He let out a huge sigh. "...though your story is bizarre, strangely enough, I believe you. That night when you mentioned this place and this bench, I dreamt of Henry after. For the first time in years. He was sat right here, not saying a word. That's why I agreed to go on this trip. The notion that he may be trying to say something did occur to me and thought I might as well see this special place of Henry and Julia for myself."

Jamie let out an exhale of relief just as he saw Willie walking in their direction. His brother made a motion of tapping his watch, which could only mean one thing. He needed to make a move. Straightening up to his full body height, Jamie faced Quentin and cleared his throat. "Speaking about this place ..." He swallowed and braced himself. "I haven't been entirely honest with ye."

"Is that so?"

Willie came to stand beside them, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Jamie disregarded his brother's knowing smirk. "There's also another reason for this trip that I meant to tell ye."

Quentin muttered a curse. "You're going to tell me this isn't the all-lads trip you'd been going on about, is that it?"

"Aye ...no! I mean ..." He tunnelled impatient fingers through his hair. "What I meant to say is ...with everything falling into place ...Harry, the engravings on this bench a-and how our history are sort of intertwined together ...I -I thought ...right here and now would be a perfect time."

"Perfect time for?"

Jamie puffed out a breath. "Perfect time to ask for your blessing."

"Blessing for what?" Quentin's brow puckered, but by then, he knew Jamie well enough, and it only took a quick study of the situation to determine exactly what was going to be asked. Quentin's eyes widened at the realisation. "Holy hell, Jamie! Are you bloody kidding me? Is this what all this has been about?"

"It's been coming to this, cannae ye see it?" He worked to steady his voice. "Ye dreamt of Harry sat on this bench. That must mean something, and ye know it. Everything that's happened to me ...Claire coming to the Highlands ....those ..." He pointed at the bench. "...those engravings ....they didn't happen by chance. All of it has led to this day.."

"Jesus! I can't believe you're making me want to thump you a few hours after I just walloped you on the eye and apologised for it." He rolled up the sleeves of his top. "I was just beginning to warm up to you, lad. But it has to be done. It's a rule."

"Rule? What bloody rule?" He watched Quentin clenched and unclenched his fist. "Ye really are gonnae thump me, is that it?"

"Rule is rule," Willie murmured, watching them closely while sneaking glances at his phone. "But best get this settled soon because we dinnae have much time left."

"Time for what?" Quentin shot. "What the bloody hell is going on now?"

Jamie's patience was swiftly deteriorating. "Look, Quentin ...ye can thump me later, alright? I'll even offer ye my good eye. But right now, I need yer blessing." 

Quentin laughed incredulously. "Listen, son, you don't get to schedule your own thumping." 

That was the last straw. Whatever patience Jamie had left dissolved. There was no time for pussyfooting. He took two steps forward and brought his face close to Quentin's. The older man looked too shocked to react, so Jamie took advantage. "Listen to me, ye cantankerous ol' git. I tried being patient with ye because I know ye like me even if ye have a funny way of showing it. But this intent on giving me grief for whatever demented reason ye have and deriving joy out of it is bloody mental. So, I'm asking ye in the nicest possible way ...give me yer blessings. Ye're gonnae give it to me anyway. So cut out all this shite and give it to me now."

A tense silence between the men ensued, and they all stood stock-still waiting for each other to give in, and the only discernible sound to be heard was the waves crashing on the beach.

When the phone notification went off, Quentin and Jamie momentarily forgot their stand-off and whipped their attention to Willie. "So gentlemen, what is it going to be? It's nearly showtime."

Quentin's eyes narrowed. "Showtime?"

..........

"Òran na Mara," Claire read out loud as they drove past the hand-carved wooden sign. "Song of the sea. How very fitting."

"I think it's romantic," Annalise whispered in response, smiling at her from the passenger seat in front. 

"Weel, here we are," the driver announced as they pulled into the driveway. "Welcome to yer home for the next few days." 

Claire leaned forward to take a better look at the cottage with a thatched roof and stone wall. Though it retained its traditional features, the beautiful structure had all the subtle hallmarks of luxury, and she could tell it had been sympathetically modernised without compromising its original character. She smiled when she caught a glimpse of the white sand beach and the turquoise Atlantic ocean. "This is gorgeous, Annalise. Jamie's outdone himself with this surprise."

"He certainly has," Annalise grinned. "Shall we?"

They both hopped out, and while Annalise sorted out the driver, Claire could only stand there in awe of the surrounding. Everywhere she turned, there was something to look at - beaches, rolling hills, and islands on the horizon. She was so taken by the natural beauty around her, she didn't even notice the car drive away. 

"Wait till you see inside. Jamie showed me pictures of the interior." Annalise walked up to the house and opened the wooden door, and Claire followed, hefting her luggage.

Inside was just as breathtaking as outside. "Wow," Claire breathed, admiring the views from the numerous windows. "This place is huge. There's probably enough room to accommodate ten people here. What are we going to do with all this space? The boys should have come."

Annalise just shrugged and smiled as she opened the glass door that led to the back garden overlooking the beach. "Why don't you go out and enjoy the view. There's a seat over there. I'll go and find us something to drink."

She stepped out of the cottage and sucked in a deep breath of salty air, and immediately felt at peace. Shading her eyes from the sun, she surveyed the curved bay of the beach and the peninsula in the backdrop. As far as she could see, there wasn't a soul in the area, nor were there passing cars to be heard, just the sound of nature, white sands and blue skies ahead. Oddly enough, the scenery uncannily reminded her of her mother's painting, which hung in her family home in Oxford, making her momentarily wonder if it was still there.

Sighing, she pulled out her phone and swiped the screen. There was still no message from Jamie. She decided it was no use pining over him when he must have spent a fortune sending her here to have some quality time with her best friend. He was thoughtful that way, even though sometimes to a fault. With a shake of her head, she shoved her phone back in her jeans, but something brought her up short as she made her way towards the bench. A familiar scent.

Before she could turn around to seek for the source, a pair of strong arms slid around her waist, soft, warm lips gliding along the back of her neck.

Exhilaration snapped in her veins. "Jamie," she breathed, turning around to wrap him in her arms. "You're here."

"I'm here," Jamie returned gruffly, his big hand rubbing circles on the small of her back. "Did ye really think I'd let ye out of my sight for a whole weekend when ye could be returning to London anytime soon?" He buried his face in the crook of her neck, nuzzling his nose against her skin. 

"A part of me didn't think so." She tipped her head back and forced him to look at her. When his face came to view, she did a double-take. "Your eye! What happened?"

His lips twitched. "Dinnae fash, Sassenach. It's just a minor accident. So, do ye like yer surprise?"

Her lungs released the pent-up breath she was holding in a rush. "I love it and even more so now that you're here." 

He smiled and took a moment to search her eyes before their mouths joined, warm hands cradling her face. His tongue parted her lips and stroked with the utmost tenderness in a slow, savouring kiss making her aware of their hearts pounding in unison.

"Sassenach ..." He trailed off to brush his lips against her temple. "Before anything else, there's something I have to show ye."

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Another surprise?"

Tongue tucked into his cheek, he momentarily glanced over her shoulder before his gaze ticked back to hers. "I suppose ye can call it that. Have ye been here before?"

She noticed the immediate gravity in Jamie's expression as he kissed her brow. "No. I haven't. But I must admit this place does feel familiar."

"How so?"

"The views ...it reminds me of my mother's painting. She's probably been here at one point."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "She was."

"She was? How do you know? Uncle Lamb told you?" she asked rapidly.

"Patience, woman! Too many questions all at once." He tugged her towards the bench, and when he let go, he stooped over the seat and ran a hand over the wooden surface. He glanced up at her and smiled. "Come here and take a look at this."

Claire did as she was told, and as she crouched down, her eyes landed on a string of words carved in what looked like a feeble attempt at calligraphy.

 Henry and Julia - At the end, as at the start, through all the in-betweens, until the world stops spinning.

 A choppy breath passed her lips as she ran her fingertips over the etchings. "It's my mum and dad."

"Aye."

"They were here." She stood up and looked around her, this time, trying to see the surroundings through their eyes. "It makes sense dad brought mum to this place. It's so romantic, and from stories I've been told, he was just ...that. And I can imagine my mum sitting here on this very spot, capturing the moment with her artwork." An intense wave of gratitude suddenly rose, almost making the moisture in her eyes spill. Jamie had done this for her because he knew, just like him, she was trying to put the pieces of her past together. "God, this is bloody insane. I wouldn't have seen this if we hadn't met."

"Ye want to hear the best part?"

She gave him a wobbly smile. "Go on then."

"Yer da proposed to your ma on this very bench."

She let out a soft expulsion of breath. Something expansive and extraordinary stirred within. It was as if, in this very moment, Jamie's revelation had taken back to her parents' past and was there to witness it. "I don't know what to say." 

"The carvings on the bench was yer da's tribute to the day he proposed to yer ma."

"And you know this, how?" she asked quietly.

"Yer uncle and I put two and two together," Jamie explained, with a one-shoulder shrug. "I told ye ....some memories of my childhood have started to come back. Weel, this was one of them. When I mentioned to Quentin about how yer father showed me his handiwork on this bench when I was a wee lad, he'd figured this was the place Harry proposed. Yer father must have spoken of this place to yer uncle. I didnae understand any of it back then. I was too young. I wouldnae have realised the significance of it if I hadn't told Quentin about it. After some thoughts, I knew I had to come back and see it for myself just to prove I hadn't imagined any of it."

"But did you have to put me on a charter plane?" she softly admonished. "With Tom Christie? Are you mates with him now?"

"Tom is often hired to fly some goods to Stornoway for some restaurant. When I heard he'd be flying today, I thought it fitted perfectly with my plan. I must admit it pained me to ask him to take ye girls, but he was happy enough to sneak ye in."

"We could have flown here together."

"Aye, we could have." He took her hand in his and played with her fingers. "But I wasnae sure how I'd fare in the plane with my PTSD. Besides, I had a few personal businesses to attend to. 

"Such as?"

He shook his head in amusement and kissed her lips, lingering there before drawing away. "Ye're distracting me, Sassenach and I still have something to show ye."

She heard Annalise's laughter coming from the cottage. "I presume Willie is here with you too."

"Your presumption is correct. Now stop asking questions and take a look at this." He pulled her towards the other end of the bench.

She sighed. "Alright, let's see it then."

Jamie let go of her hand and tapped a finger on the spot. "Take a look."

Claire leaned forward and read the inscription.

 Jamie/Claire - the promise of greater things to come.

 She frowned as confusion settled upon her. "What's this?" She traced the grooved marks of the words with a fingertip. "This has the same indentation as the other engraving. And it looks old. This couldn't have been recent."

"Yer da wrote it."

She straightened up. "Wot? But what does it mean?"

Jamie blew out a breath. "He wrote the names he would name his firstborn. He chose my name for a boy, and I got to pick yers."

Her eyes widened. "You picked my name?"

"Apparently," he grinned.

A laugh bubbled out of her. "God, so much to take in. Whatever next?"

"This." Jamie picked up a paper bag she hadn't noticed before by the bench and pulled out a padded envelope. "It's from yer workplace." He read the sender. "Dreamcatcher."

She sighed, still reeling from what Jamie just told her. "It's probably from John," she murmured more to herself as she took the envelope. She tore it open and was surprised when she pulled out its content and realised it was a children's book. "It's from Louise." When Jamie gave her a bland look, she sat down on the bench and stared at it. "She's a good friend of Annalise and a children's book author as well as an illustrator. I convince her to publish with Dreamcatcher when she showed me her work. I admitted to her a while back I wanted to be a writer. Every time our paths would cross, she'd asked me if I'd done anything about it. And every time I told her I was still working as an editor, she would give me a disappointed look." She smiled and shook her head. "I wonder why she sent this to me." Admiring the colourful print, she ran her hand over the cover. "What a talented woman."

"So ...what is the book about?"

Claire examined the book. "It's about The Unicorn and the Lioness," she answered, reading the title and leafing through the pages. As she suspected, each page was beautifully and colourfully illustrated. "Well, shall we see what we have here?" She opened it to the beginning and began to read aloud.

 There once was a unicorn

That fell for a lioness. 

She surprised him with her charm,

And her comeliness.

 She grinned as she flipped the page. "Unusual pairing," she observed, making a face at Jamie. "...but hey ...the unusual ones tend to be the best." 

She licked her lips and continued reading.

 The two, you see, 

Were from different worlds 

So it made him wonder, 

How'd it all unfurled?

 "Ah ... makes me wonder too," she added softly. "This is getting interesting."

Jamie laughed, angling his body so he could also see the pictures.

 In spite of their differences, 

It was love at first sight. 

Their feelings grew quickly, 

Their hearts took to flight.

 She smiled and turned to the next page.

 The unicorn, his life, 

Once troubled and scattered 

Now calmed and on the mend

In all ways, that matter.

 She glanced up at him and grinned. "Well, love heals, so they say," she remarked with a wink. "And love is all there is."

"Love is all there is," Jamie echoed with amusement.

She took a deep breath and resumed where she left off.

 There were simply no words 

For how lucky he'd become. 

Without her by his side 

Life would be hopelessly glum.

 She paused for a beat as a peculiar inkling tugged in her guts. Swallowing the odd knot in her throat, she forced herself to say something. Anything! "We wouldn't want the unicorn feeling glum now, would we?" she managed, suddenly unable to draw breath. 

"No," he replied. "A glum unicorn would be a tragedy."

Oh, lordy, lordy! Is this what I think what's happening? She took a fortifying breath and lifted the next page with a shaky hand. 

 It's hard to believe 

Just how happy they were. 

He could not conceive 

Even one day without her.

 "Happy is good," she squeaked, working her throat to be heard. 

"Happiness is always a good choice ...grab it while ye can," he returned quietly.

Unable to get a grip of her runaway thoughts, a dull pounding began in her chest, gradually accelerating and drowning out the noise in their surrounding, portraying the moment with a dreamlike quality. She peered up at Jamie. Underneath his handsome exterior, she could see he was anxious, the lines around his mouth more noticeable than usual. The bruise on his eye, as much as she didn't believe it resulted from an accident, added a mixture of masculinity and vulnerability. God, I love this man! She wanted to stand up and hug him and let him know she knew where he was going with this. But now was not the time to ease his anxiety. She needed to pull herself together to see through what Jamie had probably painstakingly arranged for this moment.

"Weel, are ye gonnae finish reading it?" he asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Batting a speck of non-existent dirt from the book, she filled her lungs, nodded and read the next lines.

 So he got on one knee

To hand her a gift 

A tiny velvet box

Holding a silver piece

 A silver piece? A record-scratching moment descended upon her like a heavy lead. What's a silver piece? Had she misinterpreted Jamie's intention? But when she glanced up from the book, there he was kneeling in front of her. Holding an expensive-looking velvet ring box, looking determined and brimming with adoration. It's not a ring, Beauchamp! It's a silver piece ...whatever the heck that is. Get a grip. She mentally shook herself. Of course, it couldn't be a ring. It's too soon for him to be asking her hand in marriage. The tiny box had to contain a key to his cottage, ....but he'd already given her one. Perhaps he bought a new house?

"Are ye gonnae to open it?" he asked, breaking her thoughts.

At a loss for words, she took the velvet box with trembling fingers. She reminded herself to calm down. She wouldn't want to embarrass them both into thinking Jamie was proposing.

"It's no' gonnae open itself, Sassenach. Or do ye want to keep holding it until ye're ready?" His lips twitched at its corner, and a spark of amusement lit his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She took a deep breath and opened the tiny box. When she glimpsed its content, she could only manage a weak "Oh!" Nestled in the case was a shiny one-pound coin where the ring should have been. Too confused for words, she gave him a questioning look.

On his knees, Jamie edged himself forward and took her hand. Keeping his eyes on her, he kissed the inside of her wrist. "Sassenach ...ye ken how I've always talked about how fate in some strange, mysterious way brought us together?" Claire slowly nodded in response, unsure where he was going with this. "Weel, to this day, I still dinnae ken how it all works. This may sound mad. But with everything that's led to here and now, I firmly believe some force, unknown or known, has had a hand in bringing us together. And every day, I thank whoever is listening up there for bringing ye into my life." 

Her heart swelled with love. "Jamie, you don't have to do this," she said, laying a hand on his cheeks. "I know what's in your heart."

"No." He took the coin from the box and pulled something from the back of his jeans. "I want to do this." Whatever he reached out for inside his pocket, he kept it hidden in his hand. He cleared his throat and gave her a small smile. "Loving ye is the best part of my life, Sassenach. You brought light and colour in, and for that, I'll always be grateful. Ye brought me back to life when I didnae even realise I'd stopped breathing. From the moment I first laid eyes on ye, I wanted ye for keeps. I want to be yers and for ye to be mine, and I promise I will always try my utmost best to keep ye happy."

"I've always been yours. And always will be. My move to the Highlands should have made that clear enough for you."

"Aye, I had no doubt about that. But I ken that stubborn, practical side of ye will try to argue what I'm about to ask ye is too soon." When he opened his hand, she gasped. On the middle of his palm was a three-diamond stone engagement ring with two smaller ones flanking a bigger brilliant round centre. Emotions tangled in her throat as he raised the one pound coin with his other hand. "If ye, like me, believe destiny ...the universe ...yer da or whatever ye wish to call it ...conspired to bring us together, I'm gonnae dare ye to leave it up to fate with this one-pound coin I have here."

"Wot?" Now she was utterly confused.

"I'm proposing a coin toss. The rules are simple, and it only takes five flips. If it comes up heads each time ... ye'll wear my ring. We dinnae have to marry right away. We can wait a day or ten years. Either way, I want ye to know I plan on loving ye straight through eternity. If the coin comes up tails, weel ..." he trailed off, shrugging. "I guess I have no choice but to wait until ye're ready."

She looked down at Jamie's opened palms, a coin in one hand and a ring in the other. He was doing this so she wouldn't feel pressured to marry but feel secure enough in the knowledge he'd always be waiting for her no matter how long. She squeezed her eyes shut and crammed her fingers to her lips to keep a cry from escaping. She was not interested in tossing a coin to prove they're meant for each other. What they felt for one another wasn't based on fate or luck. They'd met, fallen in love, and now they're taking their relationship to the next level. It's something that happened all the time. They may not love each other the easy way, but their hearts were in the right place every single time. They're rock solid, and she didn't need a flipping coin to tell her that. 

When she opened her eyes, a sound broke free in her chest. "Bloody hell, Jamie! Just stop with all this silliness, and put the damn ring on my finger," she hiccuped, giving him her hand. 

Jamie's shoulders drained of tension as his breath released in a rush. "Did ye just agree to marry me?"

Hot tears rolled down Claire's cheeks as she let out a watery laugh and fell back on the bench, right where her father had proposed to her mother all those years ago. Though it felt right, a slight uneasiness tried to sneak in when she remembered what Annalise had told her about Jamie's doubt about having children of his own. She searched his face, and all she could see was his love and promise to make her happy. Isn't everything supposed to fix itself when two people are in love? She made a decision not to bring it up ...for now. "Yes, Jamie. I did. I want to marry you too," she breathed as she watched him take her hand to slip the ring on her finger. When she gazed at it, she could only make out the twinkle of diamonds through her tears.

"Christ, I cannae believe ye ditched the coin toss. and agreed to marry me ...just like that."

"I don't need the coin toss to know we're meant for each other," she pointed out. "And you shouldn't either."

He gave her a boyish lopsided grin, one that he was very aware always had an effect on her. Damn! He rose to his full height, tugging her along with him. "Ye have no idea how happy you made me, Sassenach," he breathed, pulling her roughly against him and grazing her earlobe with his teeth. "Now, for the love of God, give yer man his engagement kiss."

Committing this moment to her memory, she slipped her hands under his top to feel the warmth of his skin. Standing on her tiptoes, she tipped her head back and laid a soft kiss on his lips. She smiled when his chest and stomach muscles strained and swelled underneath her touch. "Is that better?" she whispered.

Jamie muttered a curse under his breath, rolling his forehead side to side against hers. "Sassenach, I said kiss. Ye cannae touch me like that when there are people that could be watching us from the house."

"Why?"

"Jesus!" Jamie's exhale came out hot against her forehead. "Why? How am I going to walk back in there in this condition? Ye look at me so innocently when ye ken well I feel a little crazy right now. It wouldnae take much to get me going. Look at what ye do to me."

They both dropped their attention to the bulge straining against his jeans. "I see," she whispered with a shrug, drawing away. "Too bad. I guess we just have to have that celebratory kiss later ...when we're alone."

Looking pained, his hand dug into her hair, pulling her back in, in his hold. "Not too fast." His lips swept over hers before his tongue dipped inside to give her his own brand of teasing. Seconds ticked by while he tantalised with a deep kiss, causing a moan to pass her throat. She felt the shudder that passed through him, the ecstasy of this second, his love, the pressure of his lust pressing between their bodies, the awe and gratitude. It was their own private celebration, drowning everything else out and ...

A throat cleared gruffly. Jamie stiffened and dragged his lips from her mouth, pink blooming on the tips of his ears. Just beyond his shoulder, she saw uncle Lamb averting his eyes and rocking on his heels. 

"Uncle Lamb?" Claire croaked. "Don't tell me you're on this as well?"

"Trust me, sweetheart, you're not the only one who's been bushwhacked."

"Bushwhacked?"

"I guess this is the part where we say, congratulations." Willie's voice cut through her surprise at seeing her uncle, causing her head to drop forward on Jamie's chest. As the reality of their surroundings slowly began to encroach, Claire somehow found the willpower to unwind her arms from Jamie's neck and turn around. Three pair of eyes were trained on them with a mixture of amusement and joy for their happiness and mild annoyance from her uncle.

"Aye, we're officially engaged," Jamie announced, his arm going around her waist to pull her back against his chest. He pressed his lap to her backside to let her know the situation in his pants. 

Claire stifled a giggle and put on her best smile, fully aware of Jamie's mild discomfort. "We are, indeed," she grinned, leaning back to kiss the underside of Jamie's jaw. "I must admit, I never saw this coming." She lifted her hand to show them the ring.

Annalise whooped and clapped her hands. "Well, this call for a celebration then," she beamed, skipping towards them. "Let me see it." 

Squeezing her hip, Jamie let her go. She smothered the urge to laugh when she supposed that probably nothing loses a man's erection faster than a sight of her uncle Lamb's tetchy demeanour. Dismissing her silly thoughts, Claire splayed her hand out for her friend. "It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

"Stunning. I'm so happy for you." She looked Claire in the eye and spoke for her ears only. "Did you tell him what we talked about earlier?"

"Which one?"

"Babies. Hello?"

Claire sighed. She didn't want to lie to her friend, nor did she want to taint the occasion by bringing the subject of future babies up. There was a time and place for that and now wasn't appropriate. She hugged Annalise briefly and spoke into her ears. "Everything is going to be fine."

Annalise brows furrowed, but when she saw how happy Claire was, she immediately dropped the subject. "If you say so."

"I know so," Claire smiled, pulling away from her friend at the sight of Willie approaching. "Now, scoot and celebrate with us."

Annalise did an eye-roll and let Willie through.

"Congratulations!" Willie broke in, raising the bottle of Moët in his hand and giving Jamie a high-five with the other. He dropped a kiss on Claire's cheek and grinned. "Welcome to the family, Claire. My not so wee bràthair doesnae mess about, does he?"

"Thank you," she smiled. "And, no, he certainly doesn't."

Jamie received a back slap and a hug from his brother while Claire watched her uncle slowly approached them, shoulders strained, and hands shoved in his pocket. Something was amiss. Quentin was avoiding her eyes, and she noticed his face was devoid of emotions. She strode to his side. "Seriously, uncle?" she hissed, disbelief colouring her tone.

Quentin ignored her. "You sneaky piece of shit!" he barked at Jamie. 

"Oh, dear God, here we go again," Willie muttered, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Again?" Claire gasped as she noticed Annalise and Willie's eyes ricocheting between Jamie and Quentin. She was about to scold her uncle when his face broke into a grin. She held her breath and stilled in anticipation.

"Congratulations, son! I couldn't think of a better man for my niece!"

"About time ye realised it, ol' man," Jamie grinned.

"Who are you calling an old man?" Quentin ground out in mock displeasure.

Annalise, Willie and Claire gaped at Quentin.

"What?" Quentin chuckled. "If I'd come right out and told Jamie right at the start, I couldn't think of a better man for my niece, he would never have fought for her the way he did."

"What kind of logic is that?" Claire fumed.

Jamie crossed his arms. "Oh, this is gonnae be gold."

"It's a men thing, sweetheart and complicated," Quentin muttered, giving Jamie a dirty look.

"I'll try and keep up. Explain."

Quentin released an impatient sigh. "Men in your generation have none to too little backbone. Jamie had to realise he was good enough and strong enough for you. And you had to make him realise it. That's the top and bottom of it."

Her uncle was right, Claire thought. A few weeks ago, Jamie wouldn't have thought himself capable of coming this far with his condition. She might have been instrumental in pulling him out of the darkness where he'd lived for so long, but all the hard work had come from Jamie.

When Quentin took her hand and pulled her into an awkward embrace, she relaxed. "I'm not going to be around forever, darling," he said gruffly before pulling away to look her in the eyes. "I wanted to make sure you were in good hands if anything happened to me." He glanced at Jamie. "I had an inkling when Claire first told me about you, and we talked for the first time on that video chat, that your relationship was serious. The second I found out Henry's connection to you, I had to delve more into your history. When you started talking about fate and all that tripe, I didn't believe in it ...but these last few days, after spending time together, you made me believe in you. I saw something in you." 

Quentin gestured toward the double-headed one-pound coin Jamie had left on the bench. "So when you tried to extract a blessing for this proposal after dragging me here under the pretence of a boys' weekend, I thought I'd have a little laugh and grant it by giving that coin Henry gave me and challenging you to leave it to fate ...without telling you it was double-headed. As you know, I was still a bit miff with you for not letting me into this big secret thing. But you surprised me when you agreed to take the challenge and told me you'd leave it to Claire to toss it. You really believe in all that destiny nonsense, don't you?" He shook his head in disbelief. 

Jamie just shrugged and smiled.

"Uncle Lamb! How could you?" Claire huffed indignantly, crossing her arms across her chest. "For your information, we didn't toss the coin even if Jamie suggested it."

Quentin's eyes widened. "You didn't?"

"I don't need a damn coin to make my decisions, for God's sake."

Jamie slipped his arm across her shoulder and squeezed her. "It doesnae matter, Sassenach. All that matters is he gave us his blessings and that we love each other."

"I know," Claire whispered before glaring at her uncle. "As for you, no more tricks up your sleeves, are we clear?"

"Jamie caught me off guard with this marriage thing. Can you blame me for what I did?"

"Uncle Lamb! That's not the issue here." She pegged him down with a look. "You've been giving Jamie a hard time from day one. No more tricks and no more taunting Jamie. I love you both, and I want you to get along. Promise me."

Quentin raised his hands in the air before placing them on his chest. "Promise. Jamie's read me the riot act earlier today, and you're speaking to the converted. And I meant what I said when I told him I couldn't think of a better man for you. Honestly, I'm happy for both of you." He opened his arms to her. "Forgive me, sweetheart?"

With a roll of her eye, she stepped away from Jamie's hold and threw herself in her uncle's arms. "You know I'll always forgive you," she mumbled against his neck, hugging him close. "Despite you being such a grouch, I want you to know I am happy that you're here."

"Me too, sweetheart, me too," he said gruffly. "Now, shall we start the celebration? I'm parched and starving." 

"About time," Annalise chirped with a little dance and fist pump.

Laughing, Willie popped the cork on a bottle of Moët while Jamie handed out the crystal flutes. 

Claire watched as their drinks were being poured and smiled. She said a silent prayer for her parents and thanked them. There were so many things to be grateful for. Life was good, and her heart was full. She was moving to the Highlands, start her career as a writer and marry the man she loved. This was what she wanted, and she was prepared for this whatever may come their way. Her only wish was, her parents could be here today, so her father could see what a fine lad Jamie had grown up to be.

Her attention was brought back to the present when Annalise nudged her with her foot. With champagne finally in everyone's hand, they all raised their glasses to their new beginning.

"To Jamie and Claire," Willie began.

"To your happiness," Annalise added.

"To family and friends," Jamie beamed.

"To what's next," Claire breathed.

"To my next meal," Quentin snorted. "Now drink up, and let's go. I'm bloody starving."

..........

"Did you really mean what you said earlier?" Jamie asked Quentin once they were alone, and the rest of the party walked ahead of them on their way back to the cottage from the pub. "About believing in me and being happy for us?"

Quentin glanced at him. "I always say what I mean, son. Best get used to it," he grumbled.

"Right ..." They walked in silence, watching Claire, Annalise and Willie as they began singing the chorus of Living on a Prayer for the umpteenth time. "About that double-headed one pound coin ..." Jamie began.

"That was a clever touch, huh?" Quentin grinned. "Would have come handy for you if Claire had decided to use it. You still got it?"

"Aye." Jamie handed him the coin. "By the way, I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" Quentin asked, taking the coin and shoving it in his pocket.

"The reason why I readily agreed to that coin toss you suggested earlier is that ...Harry gave me one too." Jamie dug his own coin from his pocket and showed it to Quentin. "I knew the coin ye were giving me was double-headed."

Quentin stopped to look at him. "You suggested the coin toss to Claire even though you knew it was double-headed?"

"Aye."

"If Claire had agreed, would you have used the double-headed or the normal coin?"

"The double-headed, of course," Jamie admitted.

"What about all your bloody talk of fate and destiny and all that?"

Jamie shrugged. "Oh, I still believe in fate, but I couldnae take the chance. I love yer niece too much. I think ye would be inclined to agree that the universe has an odd sense of humour, and I needed to cover my arse just in case it decided to turn against me." 

Quentin scowled. "Is it too late to change my mind about you?" 

"Aye." 

They watched as Annalise and Willie, doubled with laughter, latched on to Claire's arms after she stumbled onto the curb.

"Well, then," Quentin grunted. "What the hell are you doing here still babbling to me? Go join the fun."

Jamie shook his head. "Oh no, ye don't, spoilsport. Ye're here to have some fun too. Ye're joining in."

"I'm too old for all that. Now go and leave me in peace."

Jamie narrowed his gaze at him. "Is that really what ye want? To be left in peace?"

Quentin blew out an exasperated breath, but Jamie caught the sheen in his eyes and the smile he was battling. "No. I want you to get used to me showing up," he growled.

Jamie pretended to sound annoyed so as not to embarrass the older man. "Fine, as long as it doesn't involve ye decking me."

"Deal."

..........

Jamie looked up from the mock children's book, smiling when he heard Claire doing her nightly routine in the bathroom. The book disguising his marriage proposal had been Annalise idea. As soon as she'd heard of his intention from Willie, she'd made the suggestion, desperately wanting to play a part in surprising Claire. She even had him adding a few of his own words to the poem. How Annalise's friend managed to illustrate and have the book printed on such short notice, he had no idea. But he must admit, The Unicorn and the Lioness book had been a nice touch.

Claire walked into the bedroom, looking fresh in his t-shirt, her face still flushed from the champagne earlier. He watched her shiver a little, rubbing her arms to generate heat. The sight of her bare legs kicked his heart rate up a notch. He smiled and drew the bedcover back in an invitation to get in.

As she snuggled under the crook of his arm, she smiled when she saw the book on his lap. "I never got to read the ending," she said with a yawn, her arm sliding across his waist.

He kissed the crown of her head and pulled her in closer. "Shall I read it for ye?"

"Yes, please."

"I'll start from where you left off."

"Alright."

Jamie got comfortable and cleared his throat. "Here goes ..."

 So he got on one knee

To hand her a gift 

A tiny velvet box

Holding a silver piece

 Claire giggled. "You got me right there."

"I know," Jamie chuckled, turning the page. "Now wheesht and let me finish."

 Confused and bewildered

That it's not a ring

It became apparent

She wanted the real thing

  So still on his one knee 

He uttered the plea: 

"My dearest lioness, 

Will you marry me?"

  He felt his heart beating 

Right out of his chest. 

He could do nothing but wait 

And hope she'd say YES.

 When he ended and a few moments of silence ensued, Claire twisted from her position and looked up at him. "That's it?"

"Aye," Jamie replied, handing her the book. "Louise said you're a writer, so she left a blank page for you to write the ending."

"Is that so?" she said, laughing, reaching for her specs. "Well, let's see what I can do."

Jamie grabbed a pen from the nightstand and handed it to her.

After adjusting the pillow, she sat up and began scribbling, reading the words out loud as she wrote.

 When she finally answered 

He could not stop grinning 

Because he knew, in his heart, 

This was just The Beginning!

 Claire closed the book and took off her specs. "How was that?" she asked, sliding back under the covers.

"It was good, but I'm left hanging. I'm dying to know what happened after?" 

"Hmmm ..." She climbed on top of him and nipped his lips with her teeth. "They celebrated with their loved ones, ate a lot of food and drank too much champagne." She drew circles on his chest. "Although I have a sneaking suspicion, their night is not over yet." 

Jamie flipped her on her back, making her yelp. He scanned her face for a few heartbeats. "Ye're absolutely right. He's gonnae tell her how happy she's made him," he whispered, his words thick with emotions. "And show her in so many ways how much he loves her." 

She blinked away the tears blearing her vision and smiled up. "Well, he's got all night to prove he's not just a bunch of talk."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "A bunch of talk, huh? He's a big man, Sassenach, and he makes love twice as long."

She slipped her hand past the waistband of his boxer brief and gripped him hard, making him catch his breath. "We'll see about that," she challenged. 

He rewarded her by grabbing her hand and slowly pressing his hips into her. "You're on, Sassenach, you're on," he groaned into her mouth before silencing her with his kisses.

Dear Readers,

Firstly, apologies for the delay in the final chapter of this series. As some of you already know, if you read my Tumblr posts, I've had a bad reaction to my vaccination. Though I feel a little better, I don't feel quite right yet hence the delay of this update. I'm easily tired and have been writing sporadically, depending on my energy level. So, after this chapter, I will take a long rest before starting the next series.

Secondly, I'd like to thank everyone for the kudos and comments on AO3 and on my Tumblr and those who left best wishes in my inbox. I appreciate them all from the bottom of my heart. Though I haven't replied individually, please know I enjoy reading them and look forward to what you have to say.

Thirdly, as you may have gathered, this is the final chapter of this series. There will be a third series. When? I have no time frame yet as I will need time to recuperate. If you wish to be updated, you can always subscribe to the WONDERWALL series by clicking here. Or follow me on my Tumblr site here. 

Lastly, I hope you've enjoyed this last chapter. It's the longest chapter I've ever written, with 11560 words. If this update is all over the place, I blame it on my bad days. I personally think it's alright, but I can never be sure. I believe my reaction to the vaccination has dulled me a bit. So, thank you all from the bottom of my heart: for your continued interest, readership, kudos and comments. I look forward to reading your remarks and constructive criticism on this latest update. Kudos to you all, my friends, and be safe. Keep the positive vibe rolling. Much love. X

 PS I will compile a Masterlist for WONDERWALL and post it on my Tumblr site, either tomorrow or in the next few days, depending on how I feel.

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#BlackExcellence365 Spotlight: Aundre Larrow

Hey Tumblr! Our first #BlackExcellence365 Spotlight of 2020 is Aundre Larrow (@aundrelarrow), a Brooklyn-based visual artist whose work has been featured on Adobe, Walmart, Verizon, and more. We got a chance to talk to him about his favorite projects, including his @teenvogue​ series showcasing the lives of formerly incarcerated women.

Tell us about yourself. When did your passion for photography start?

My name is Aundre Larrow and I’m a black artist based in Brooklyn, New York hailing from South Florida. I’m a Jamaican immigrant, an only child, and a Triscuit lover.

I started taking photos on borrowed film cameras from friends until I turned 15 and my theater teacher gave me his old Minolta SRT 101 as a gift. After that I would use my money from working at Old Navy and whatever I could talk my mom into donating to buy film and get it processed at the Walgreens a mile walk away. The passion started when I realized I could freeze moments I held dear and capture them. I loved getting my film back. I loved sharing it; Making little yearbooks and giving them to friends. I still have some of those prints in my childhood room.

Your work tells many stories, primarily of Black bodies which some photographers find it difficult to capture. What inspired you to make your series about shooting against darker skin tones?

Whew, I don’t know what it is about the phrase Black bodies, but it always hits me hard. I read an article on Mic. And it got me thinking.

I thought back to this teachable moment I had after college. I was interning at the Gainesville Sun. The photo editor had tasked me with taking portraits of the high school athletes in the fall feature, but I didn’t use a hair light. When I came back with the images, he looked at me sideways like “what’re you doing?” We can’t tell where their hair stops. (To make matters worse, I had used a black backdrop.)

I later learned from trial and error, from assisting photographers like Coty Tarr, and from studying the work of folks like Michele Walker, Joshua Kissi. Street etiquette paved the way for me at bevel, TBH.

You recently did a story with Teen Vogue featuring formerly incarcerated women. How did that project impact you and the work you create?

Maaan. You don’t know yourself until you’re in a small room listening to women discuss how painful it is, not being able to see their kids for months and months. One woman explained to me that one parent had abused her, and the other was enraged that she reported it. These women built new identities for themselves while separated from everything they knew. These two quotes will always stick with me:

“When I got out, it wasn’t like a walk in the park or whatever. When you’re in penitentiary, there are certain hours of the morning that you have to stand up to be counted. So I would automatically wake up and stand up. Sometimes, I would get up and lock myself in the bathroom. I spent 18 years in a room with a toilet and a sink. This was the closest thing, you know, to feeling safe. Can’t nobody get to you. It wouldn’t be until my kids would start knocking like, ‘Hey, are you okay?’”

And: 

“Our struggle has been from the beginning of time. Like I said, we’re a nurturing species. This doesn’t go for just the Black mother or person. Everybody, every racial background, has their own struggle. But, I think we’ve been beaten, raped, and downtrodden for so long that our will to survive and save the world has become like our bank.

You might not be my son, but if I see you in trouble, I am going to help. If I see the police run up on you, I’m going to throw myself in front of you. If I can save somebody’s son, I am going to do it because that’s how we’ve been built.

We, you know, from the slave ships, we were the ones singing them love songs, belly to belly and all the feces and stuff. We held on and kept everyone together and told them, ‘I love you and just hold on ’cause we gon’ make it.’”

How do you embody the mission of #BlackExcellence365 in your everyday work?

Existing is a form of resistance, no?  No, but for real, excellence is something I can’t determine for myself. I simply try to embody the process of creation. 

How has Tumblr allowed you to showcase your work and connect with other Black creatives?

Tumblr has brought so so many Black creatives together. Just to name a few, @skinnywashere, @stewyiscool, and Tutes; Tumblr OGs telling the New York story for so many of us to follow along. That community will last forever. Those connections are unbreakable.

When I interviewed @lawrenceagyei he spoke so fondly of finding the work of Joshua Kissi and how it inspired him. It brought a smile to my face 

Tumblr gave me the ability to shoot Fashion Week and a platform to share the full story. It’s one of the best things about the platform. Photo stories pop because you decide the weight of each image. It’s easy to share, reshare and show BTS.

Thank you for sharing your story, Aundre! 

Tumblr, do yourselves a favor and make sure to check out his photography and follow his journey. And, hey, we wanna hear from you. What other Black Tumblr artists or activists should we spotlight? Use the tag #BlackExcellence365 to let us know.

This interview has been condensed for clarity

[birdsareblooming]

Infinite is connected to Solaris

This is gonna be a long one, strap in.

Infinite, Infinite, Infinite. The most recent in-game villain, and the most powerful in recent history as well. Despite being only around 3 years old, he’s become extremely popular. and half of that is because of the song.

Mephiles, Iblis, and Solaris. Villains over 10 years old that haven’t been used since their original game appearance in Sonic the Hedgehog (2006)

Or... have they?

Now I want to say before all of this, this all could be coincidences, me being delusional, or something otherwise. It is ONLY a theory, but for something as crazy as I’m claiming I need to preface with this for my own sanity. 

But i’m gonna cut the bullshit. You’re here to see how I am going to bs my way to saying that Infinite the Jackal is connected to a dead god from what is regarded as the worst Sonic game. 

And, like most of these, I need to start with some house cleaning, some things you need to understand.

1. Time Eater is Mephiles

You might have seen me meme about this before...

...But yeah that’s exactly the situation.

I had theorized this before I knew Ian Flynn thought the same thing. Their identical color-schemes, almost identical aesthetic, and completely identical power-set. 

Even the name Time-Eater, that was Mephiles, and Solaris’s goal. To eat time. 

2. Ifrit is Iblis

Now i’m going to assume you have two questions

If Time Eater is Mephiles, than where’s his counterpart, Iblis?

Who the fuck is Ifrit

Long and Short, 

But, more importantly, 

Ifrit is what caused Silver’s Future post Sonic 06.

Ifirit was their retcon for keeping Silver’s future the way it is (even though they defeat it at the end of sonic rivals 2, causing the future to not be that way, hence why Silver was 3 conflicting backstories. Thanks guys.)

So, when it comes to fire demon that destroys the world and causes the future that Silver the hedgehog lives in, that’s a good amount of evidence already, especially with the preface that Mephiles is alive in the form of Time-Eater. If Mephiles was reborn, why wouldn’t also Iblis? and Ifirit is so uncannily similar theres no other candidate. 

also, might I add:

(thanks @zorloser​)

For you who don’t know, Ifrit’s story ended being re-trapped in it’s pocket dimension with Eggman Nega. 

3. The Phantom Ruby

The Phantom Ruby... Oh, the Phantom Ruby.

A very new addition to Sonic, and yet very important. It was the leading mcguffin of two games, and is made out to be very powerful. 

yes I know that’s a lot up there, but you need to understand the Phantom Ruby to fully understand this theory. 

It’s also very important that Eggman didn’t create the Phantom Ruby as he claims. He created Infinite, not the stone attached to him. Despite there being prototypes, which does confuse me, but from what info we’re given from the wiki the Phantom Ruby seems to have come from Classic Sonic’s universe, even retreating there after the events of Forces. This is also confirmed in Episode Shadow:

Although, Eggman did name it, seemingly on a whim.

~Tangent Time~

Despite being CALLED a Ruby by Eggman, the Phantom Ruby doesn't LOOK like a ruby, despite being magenta.

Rubies CAN be dark even to the point of being Black, but never connected. They’re usually just one shade.

(And don’t you dare say “The chaos emeralds don’t look like emeralds bc they’re not green. They’re all TECHNICALLY emeralds, they’re part of the beryl family, and even if only green beryls are called emeralds, they are all the exact shades of beryl.)

But what the Phantom Ruby DOES look like, is obsidian. 

note this for later.

4. Infinite

For those who don’t fully know Infinite’s backstory, it’s expanded upon on the wiki and Rise of Infinite 

Now that we’re all on the same page, lets continue to him now. 

Lovingly referred to as the “Masked Clown.” Infinite goes about the entirety of Sonic Forces revealing nothing of himself, the only things we know about him are from Episode Shadow and Rise of Infinite. We don’t even see his real face in-game. 

Although we have enough to know that his personality changed post Phantom Ruby, it’s even mentioned on the Wiki. Although how much of that change was spurred on by being beat up by a 15 year old, we’ll probably never know. 

Although his goal has always been the same. Starting the planet over as a desolate wasteland. What a fun dude to be around. Probably the life of the party.

5. Connections

(i’m using Mephiles and Time-Eater intermittently, same with Iblis and Ifrit.) 

Alright, now we’re all on the same page. Let’s move on.

I’m going to play a game we’ve played before. I’m going to name something about Infinite or the Phantom Ruby, and add something that’s eerily simmilar to Solaris (Mephiles + Iblis)

All of this Info can be found on the Sonic Wiki

Phantom Ruby: -It is an interdimensional gemstone of incredible power- Ifrit: It is an interdimensional, demonic fire-creature of incredible power- (wow those are, the same description huh)

Infinite: -After Infinite's fusion with the finalized Phantom Ruby prototype, he acquired the ability to generate, destroy, and manipulate virtual realities, which he could turn into virtual reality projections to interact with reality.[32] Said virtual realities are illusions, which Infinite creates by exercising control of one's visual and depth perception by feeding the brain false information- Ifrit: -Described as capable of binding one's soul, the Ifrit can enslave others with powerful mind control powers.- -Ifrit, which manages to use some kind of mind control on Sonic and/or Tails (or Knuckles and/or Rouge, depending on which team the player is controlling), but is defeated by the other teams, and is destroyed.-

Infinite: -Infinite's newfound strength proved so great that he was able to effortlessly defeat figures like E-123 Omega and Silver the Hedgehog, and ultimately best even Sonic the Hedgehog twice. He was even able to single-handedly overwhelm the entire Resistance army during Operation Big Wave. His power was such that not even the Miles Electric was able to give an accurate reading of his capabilities.[31] Time Eater: -the Time Eater has demonstrated immense super strength; even in its incomplete form, it easily knocked Modern Sonic and Classic Sonic unconscious with a single hit. After being completed, the Time Eater was able to effortlessly repel both Classic and Modern Sonic's and knock them out using brute force alone-

Phantom Ruby:  Its powers can also warp the fabric of space-time,[1] allowing it to create pocket dimensions such as Egg Reverie Zone and Null Space, as well as teleport entities from place to place. When used alongside the Chaos Emeralds' time-space powers, it transported Classic Sonic and itself to another dimension, and later sucked Dr. Eggman into a rift- Time Eater: Its signature skill however, is creating "Time Holes",[8] spacial rifts that lead to any point across time and space, including alternate timelines and across different dimensions.

Infinite: When everything you know has come and gone (You are at your lowest, I am rising higher) Only scars remain of who I was (What I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire) When there's no one left to carry on (This is an illusion, open up your eyes and...) This pain persists, I can't resist But that's what it takes to be infinite Solaris: -Much like his two halves, Iblis and Mephiles, Solaris is immortal and virtually indestructible.- -As a transcendent life form, Solaris possesses a unique state of existence that lets him exist in the past, present and future simultaneously, making him omnipresent throughout time and virtually impossible to defeat unless he is attacked simultaneously in all eras-

Possible reach:

Phantom Ruby:

Solaris:

(I’m refering to the odd red-stone in the middle, also that the wings somewhat resemble Infinite’s sword.)

~Tangent Time~

remember the first tangent? Where I meantioned that the Phantom “Ruby” looked more like obsidian than a ruby?

Well someone else looks like a certain type of obsidian, Snowflake Obsidian to be exact:

Alright Reaching time over. 

Now you might have noticed that the Ifrit-Infinite connections seemed to fit just a bit more-Maybe it was just me- even down to the Phantom Ruby and Ifrit’s OPENING DESCRIPTION being almost copy/paste, which i’m still amazed at.

This get’s to the next part of my theory.

6. Where are they (Mephiles/Iblis) now?

Welcome to~ where are they now!

Mephiles, or Time-Eater, So far is undocumented. It’s said they were “Destoryed” at the end of Sonic Generations, but for all we know it was just the machine additions, and Mephiles was “destoryed” over 10 years ago and he started kicking again.

Iblis, or Ifrit, was locked in it’s own pocket dimention along with Nega, and hasn’t been seen since...or have they?

haha that’s a callback! Do you remember the beginning of this post or is it too mindbogglingly long for your brain to comprehend in one sitting? 

7. The Phantom Ruby is Iblis/Ifrit

let’s talk about the power set of the Phantom Ruby. Interdimentional, very powerful, capable of some kind of mind fuckery.

Ifrit is, Interdimentional, very powerful, capable of some kind of mind fuckery, immortal and is constantly on fire,

You may be wondering about this “Fire” thing. “Solaris was a sun god and infinite has no connection-” WRONG! 

sorry that was forceful.

Infinite used a very specific and strange method to destroy the planet. He made an illusion of the sun, and set it on the planet. Out of all the methods, and interesting choice to be sure. But not for a sun god.

also: “What I find in the ashes, you lose in the fire”

“What are you saying you dumb bitch?” You might be thinking. First of all, rude, second of all, I’m saying that the power inside the Phantom Ruby IS Iblis/Ifrit, hence their connection.

Before I get to timeline and other stuff, some minor things:

The decision to have Infinite take on specifically Silver, and showing Silver being able to withstand a fight against him for a good amount of time, as well as giving them a minor repertoire, which no other seemingly “unconnected” Resistance Fighters get. 

the name “Infinite” fitting the naming scheme if “Iblis and Ifrit” and you know how this franchise is about naming schemes.

Now, where we last left Ifrit he was trapped in a pocket dimension with Nega. 

Where we first find the Phantom Ruby is “In Sonic Mania, the Phantom Ruby appeared on Angel Island after a dimensional breach occurred in the atmosphere.” (via sonic wiki)

Now, it is kinda hard to connect those two lines, but the dimensional causation is there. 

(I could add an ENTIRE subsection of me trying to connected Mephiles to the time-traveling nature of Little Planet, therefore connecting Solaris to Classic Sonic’s world ((and “fun is infinite)) but this theory doesn’t need to be any longer and I cannot physically do any more research.) 

it’s possible Ifrit would be trapped, Mephiles was trapped in the Scepter of Darkness, so it’s more possible than impossible. 

But, Imma be fully honest with you guys, Most of this is because of the song.

If you haven’t heard “Infinite”, What is wrong with you. Go listen to it. Oh my god. 

But, some of the lyrics, don’t totally make sense knowing Infinite’s backstory. But it makes more sense seeing through the lens of the added Ifrit influence.

“And after all this time you're back for more“ (If talking about Shadow, it wasn’t a “long time” inbetween Infinite’s defeat and his rise. And Infinite has no stated relationship with Sonic. However, Solaris and subsequently, Iblis, do.) “When everything you know has come and gone“ “But that's what it takes to be infinite“

Even the name “Infinite.”

He chose that name after fusing to the Phantom Ruby and “ABAndoNiNg hIS pAsT SeLf” 

But, the Phantom Ruby has no connotations of immortality. None specified. it’s possible it’s power could be used to trick the user into immortality, but it’s never specified. You’d think he’d be called “Phantom” or, even, “Zero” (his working-and possibly true-name) But no. Infinite.

Now, think back to the connections earlier, and the info I took from Solaris’s wiki.

“Omnipresent throughout time and space”

Sounds pretty “Infinite” to me.

Am I saying Infinite is the new Iblis Trigger? Yes.

Ok my fingers hurt from writing this sorry it’s so long 

bye

[shwazzberryswriting]

Sweet Treats

Pairing: Jeno x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Meet-Cute (sort of), Fluff, AU - Non-Famous Jeno

Word count: 2.4k

Rating/Warnings: Teen (12ish+)/Kissing

Prompt: Random Word Generator

*Must be about Jeno

*Must be 2k words (overshot it ROFL)

*Use these words (random word generator):

-main

-mutual

-organ

Author’s Note: Thank you to my friend for their patience with me taking forever to get this prompt fufilled! It wasn't from a lack of inspiration. Hot Sauce era gave me a lot of fuel for Jeno!

--------

If Suyuan could make a dessert to represent her cousin’s bake sale, she’d bake a Keylime Pie. The middle school’s front entrance was lined with thick green grass that glistened in the sunlight. The late spring breeze carried the scent of the lime trees nearby, tingling her nose.

The PTA was throwing a Mountain Retreat Bake Sale to raise funds for a weeklong mountain retreat for the 6th grade class. Fen, Suyuan’s cousin, should have been setting up the baked goods under the tent, but the 12-year-old was having too much fun playing with her friends. They were currently bullying a man who seemed to be related to Fen’s best friend, HaeWon.

He wore black skinny jeans and a loose white and black striped knit sweater. His black hair fell over his eyes as he grimaced a smile. He was trying to dance along to an Itzy song, but the kids were booing him as he refused to do “aeygo”. Suyuan grinned as she recalled how she and her classmates would tease their older cousins to do cute dances to entertain them. It was a circle of life to be forced to do cute dances at various points in one’s life.

“Fen, I think we have to set up the lemonade, too,” Suyuan called out, setting a sign down on the table as she stood up. “Give that guy a break, too! We’re helping you for free, you know. I should have told you to buy me Starbucks.”

“Jeno Lee! Jeno Lee! You can’t dance!” Fen and HaeWon chanted. The main bullies had even started a dance where they sashayed their hips. They stopped once their friends began to retreat back to pick up their tasks.

“Thanks,” Jeno Lee said with a shy smile as he walked away from his red motorbike to join her under the tent. “I’m Jeno.”

“Suyuan,” she replied, waving her hand. “I’m Fen’s cousin. How’d you get roped into this?”

“My aunt and uncle helped me with my bake sale when I was 13,” he replied. He began helping Fen and HaeWon line up trays of cookies on one of the white topped plastic tables. “HaeWon should buy me some Starbucks, too, I think.”

“I don’t even have a credit card,” HaeWon replied, looking over her shoulder to glare at him.

“Suyuan helped me bake these strawberry macarons!” Fen exclaimed, setting the cookies down beside the blueberry jam thumbprint cookies. “My mom and I made the shortbread cookies.”

“Did you have to do this?” Jeno asked as he sat down to help make the signs to indicate the prices of the baked goods.

“No, for our school trip we pitched our trip to family members, Shark Tank-style,” she replied.

“What?” he sounded incredulous as he stopped writing on the white board to stare at her. “Your school turned it into a Economy project?”

“It was fun. I mostly used cute pictures of me in my slides and I kept saying, ‘You’re investing in my future and well being,’ enough to make my parents emotional. It annoyed my siblings and other relatives enough that they handed me at least a couple dollars before I could finish my pitch.”

“Smart,” he said, looking impressed. “Do you know how to write DanPatBbang?”

“My mom made a huge batch!” HaeWon spoke up as she pointed to the golden buns wrapped in clear plastic bags.

“Um, no,” Suyuan replied. “We can write Sweet Red Bean Paste Buns. We’ll find someone to write it the correct way. They look amazing, HaeWon! Your mom told me you made the paste.”

“I also brushed the egg wash on,” she said.

Fen and HaeWon took over all the tasks Suyuan and Jeno started. Soon enough, Jeno and Suyuan were seated behind the pastries and water cooler filled with lemonade, chitchatting. They exchanged war stories about their 6th Grade Mountain Retreat. Jeno’s class were locked in their dorms for a few hours as a family of bears foraged around their camp for food the first day they arrived. It sounded more exciting than what really happened, he claimed.

Jeno seemed captivated as Suyuan told an elaborate story about her group’s river raft ride. Their raft capsized partway through the ride, and her group had to walk their way back to camp with nothing but an old compass as help, all of them soaked to the bone. Suyuan had sprained her ankle, and cried her entire walk back to camp, which had been roughly a half mile walk.

“It’s funny now,” Suyuan said as Jeno chuckled into his fist, “but I was miserable for the rest of the trip.”

“How many days did you have your ankle sprained?” he asked, picking up a sugar cookie and taking a bite.

“That’s a dollar fifty,” she said, holding out her hand. His eyes widened as he stopped midchew.

“All I have is my debit card,” he replied, spitting out crumbs into his fist.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she scolded gently, leaning over to grab a napkin that sat behind him. Her chin bumped into his shoulder and she jumped back immediately.

“Sorry!” they exclaimed in unison. She threw the napkin over his mouth as he spat out more crumbs.

“Let me get you some water,” she said, standing up to walk over to the cooler near a table where HaeWon and Fen were standing. They were talking to some of their classmates, Fen staring at the blue haired kid holding a skateboard. “Can I buy a bottle of water?”

When she returned to Jeno, he was biting into strawberry danish. He thanked her for the water, and gave half of the danish to her.

“I’m going to spend $10, and I’ve eaten $3’s worth of pastries so far,” he reasoned, picking up a scallion pancake Suyuan’s mom made for the bake sale. “These are good. I’d love some kimchi with this.”

“Do you think someone’s auntie brought her own jars of kimchi to sell here?” she asked, sitting up straight to crane her neck around.

“I’d smell it before either of us see it,” he said, pointing to his nose. “Maybe in an hour? It’s good to have people filter in late. My uncle says it keeps the flow going and the food fresh.”

“Your uncle gave you economics lessons anyway,” she said, impressed.

As the day wore on, Fen and HaeWon began whistling Red Velvet’s “Red Flavor” whenever they came around Jeno and Suyuan, to the point that Suyuan had to bribe Fen with $20 in cold hard cash to leave them alone. Jeno was very kind and gentle, but his absentmindedness led to a chaotic energy. Jeno’s card was declined when his aunt showed them how to use electronic transactions on her iPad.

He realized he’d been using his Student credit card’s PIN when the card was declined for a third time. Suyuan poured Jeno a cup of lemonade as he had to call his bank to explain why his card had been declined three times. His face was flushed as he took a sip from the purple straw in the cup she handed him.

“Thank you, yes, I’ve got it,” Jeno said after 15 minutes of transferring to 2 different departments of customer service. “Auntie, I think I’ve solved it. I’m going to buy $10 extra for these pastries.”

“It was that bad?” Suyuan asked as Jeno picked up one of the bao buns Suyuan had made with her aunt and mom. “Those buns are $2.”

“OK,” he said through a mouthful of food.

“You never learn,” she said with a grin, handing him a napkin. “Chew, then speak.”

“These buns are so good, I love the barbecue pork,” he said, staring at the red filling. “This bake sale is probably more legit than the China Town in the city.”

“I haven’t been there in years,” she said. “I heard they opened a Korean patisserie near that tacky karaoke bar.”

“Jeno,” HaeWon called out, waving from the playground behind the tents they’d set up, “how do you shoot from the three-point line?”

Some of the kids had arrived with a basketball, and they watched as Jeno made shot after shot on the basketball court. After making a basket from every angle the kids requested, Jeno handed the basketball back to HaeWon. Despite teasing Jeno earlier, it was obvious that HaeWon looked up to him a lot. She showed it in her own special ways.

“Did you want to go get some boba?” Jeno asked, holding his hand out to Suyuan. “My mom and aunt are relieving me of my duties soon.”

“My mom’s on her way, too,” she replied, taking his hand. “Perfect timing.”

When Suyuan’s mom arrived, she eyed Jeno on his red cruiser motorbike.

“Be safe,” her mom said pointedly before hugging her. “I heard Jeno’s quite polite, but...be safe.”

“Oh, mom, calm down,” Suyuan sighed, giving her mom a grin. “You know Jeno’s parents well enough.”

“A motorbike,” her mom mouthed silently as Fen and HaeWon walked by. She rolled her eyes.

“I’ll text you, mom. Bye, Fen! See you, HaeWon!”

“Don’t kiss him too much,” Fen uttered out and HaeWon laughed as the pair ran off at the sight of Suyuan glaring at them.

Her annoyance disappeared as she saw Jeno sitting against his bike, holding out a helmet to her. His grin made her chest feel like it was growing, and she thanked him in a soft voice as she took the helmet. True to the rumors her mom heard, Jeno politely helped Suyuan secure her helmet on, and checked with her that she felt secure before starting the engine to his motorbike.

She pressed her body close to him as his body warmed her. She smelled the blueberry on his shirt, perhaps due to the slice of blueberry pie he’d accidentally spilled onto the left sleeve of his sweater. It took everything in her not to sit up and kiss his cheek as they stopped at a red light.

Once they reached the boba shop near the church one of her aunts volunteered at, Suyuan slowly slipped her hands away from Jeno’s body. She was afraid to admit to herself that she enjoyed her time on the ride with him. It was better than her time with any significant other she’d ever been with, even her boyfriend of 8 months during her freshman year in college.

The church organ music playing in the distance reminded her to stop her imaginations from going too wild as she watched Jeno brush his hair out of his eyes. As they sat on the picnic table near the boba shop, Suyuan asked Jeno questions about his bike, and how he got into riding motorbikes.

“My Engineering final had me do a group project,” he explained between sips of his watermelon slush. “We refurbished an old Honda Fury. We were docked a grade for turning our Shop project into our Engineering project, too.”

“That’s bullshit,” she said with a grin. He laughed in agreement. “Is it easy to ride a motorbike?”

“Easy enough,” he said with a shrug. “You have to go in without so much doubt and fear, and then you’ll be confident in your riding.”

“You’ll have to teach me,” she said, sidling up close to him. “How were we able to miss each other when we were teens?”

“You traveled in the bookish crowd, and I was with the jocks and gamers,” he replied.

“What does that mean?” she asked, feeling her cheeks turn warm.

“We had Algebra 101 together but you were home sick for the first 3 weeks,” he said. “I had a small crush on you, but I never worked up the courage to talk to you. I wanted to ask you to help me with my homework. I’m not good at math.”

“We went to school together?” she asked, shocked that she had assumed that they were mutual strangers when they met that morning. “I’m sorry. My teen years were my confused queer years. I spent all of high school crushing on girls and boys, and I didn’t know if it meant I was a lesbian or bi...or something else along the queer spectrum.”

“So do you have it figured out?”

“Um,” she grinned at him as he threw his arm over her shoulders, “I’m OK saying I’m bi, but I know that things are never set in stone.”

“I’m glad we spent today together,” he said, resting his hand on her chin, pulling her close to him. He kissed her. “I had to wait for my cousin to tease me for you to notice me.”

She laughed against his lips, kissing him as she rested a hand on his shoulder.

“You wouldn’t have liked angsty me anyways,” she admitted, pulling away from his kiss. She wiped her lipstick stains off his lips with her thumbs. “I wasn’t prepared for a relationship as a high schooler. Did your crush return today?”

“It was when you stood up to my bullies,” he said, his cheeks flushing pink.

“Our cousins?”

She laughed before planting a wet kiss onto his lips. He wrapped his arms around her waist, and requested he take her home.

“For the record,” she said, taking his hand and kissing it quickly, “I think I crushed on you at the same moment. You were putting up with the kids’ bullying so well.”

She held on tight to him, relishing the feel of his back as she pressed her cheek against it, hearing his heartbeat against her ear. His body felt firm, and his sweater was soft, although a bit itchy. Once they reached her apartment complex, she got off the bike and handed his spare helmet back to him.

“Thank you for bringing me home safely,” she said. Before he could respond, she kissed him, pressing her tongue against his lips. He pushed back immediately, his lips capturing hers.

“Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow?” he asked when he broke their kiss. She licked her lips, tasting a hint of sweet red bean paste. “No pressure.”

“Pick me up at 6:00 PM?” she asked. She kissed him, and his hand reached up to touch her cheek.

“It’s a date,” he breathed out as they rested their foreheads together. “I should let you go home. I want to be a gentleman today.”

“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” she said before caressing his earlobe. She kissed him. “Text me when you get home?”

He kissed her one last time before they broke apart. As she walked up the stairs to her apartment her mind clouded with thoughts of Jeno’s lips on hers. He was warm, like the bright spring sun. The scent that radiated from him was grassy and refreshing, energizing her in the same way the scent of limes did. Jeno Lee was her perfect Keylime Pie.

------

Thank you always for reading!

[agentofscifi]

Super Genius Marinette Ch. 2

I hand the taxi driver a few American bills as payment just after he sets down my bags on the sidewalk. I was right in front of the Avengers building, which had a small collection of reporters outside of it. The man smiles as he pops back into his car. I give him a small wave as he drives off. Swinging my backpack over my shoulders and I take both of my bags by the handle, wheeling up to the door. The reporters, for some reason, didn’t seem to notice me until I was typing my password into the keypad by the door.  

“Ma’am? Who might you be and what business do you have with the Avengers? Are you with the other children who have been seen entering this building?” A darked haired woman is holding a mic out to me, her cameraman fixating on my face.  

I shrug as the door opens up on its own. “There will be a press conference later this summer to answer all of your questions. That is all I will say for now.”  

I wheel my bags through the door, leaving behind the small gaggle, who were still attempting to ask my questions. A few of the workers on the bottom floors look at me weirdly as I pull my bags into the main elevator.   

“Hello FRIDAY, how are you?”  

“Very well, Ms. Stark. Your father is located on the communal floor, would you like to go there first, or visit your floor?”  

“The communal floor, please.”  

“Of course.”  

I pull up my sunglasses from my face and quickly pull out my phone. I sent a quick text to my parents back in Paris that I arrived at the tower. As The elevator dings at the floor, I tuck my phone back into my back pocket and grab both of my bags. I walk out the door into the general floor, high heels clicking on the tiles. Several heads whip around and look at me from the couches.  

“Crap.” One of the men, Clint Barton, groans. “Tony, your security sucks! There’s another Captain America fangirl up here?  

I raise an eyebrow. “Ok, first of all, I am not a Captain fangirl. He puts up a good fight, but he needs some serious wardrobe help.” Said man flushes at my words. “Secondly, the security is fine here, I helped set it up. Thirdly,” I look up at the ceiling. “Friday?”  

“Yes?”  

“Where is my Dad?”  

“Right here, my little genius!” My father practically runs me over as he goes to hug me.   

The people at the couches stare. “You have a kid?   

I pear over my father’s shoulder. The collection of Avengers were all staring at us with gobsmacked expressions. “Yes, he does. Who’s asking?”  

One of the guys sticks his arm up. “Sam Wilson. When did this happen?”  

“14 years and 364 days ago.”   

Sam Wilson stares at me with wide eyes, “So, you’re 15 tomorrow?”  

“Yup.”  

“Are you French?” Steve Rodgers decided to pop into the conversation at this point.   

“Yes, well not technically. Dad,” I gesture to my father, “is American. My Mom is from China, she moved to France to study baking. She married my Papa who’s ½ French. I did grow up in Paris, however.” Rodgers nods.  

Thor puts a large hand up. “Does this mean the other younglings here are your children too?”  

Dad sighs. “No. I’m mentoring them. Mari is my only child.”  

“And we were never told because?” Clint Barton is still looking between my Dad and I.  

I shrug. “I wanted a normal childhood. Being the daughter of Tony Stark would have made my childhood crazy. This was before Ironman and the Avengers became a thing.”  

Clint nods in agreement. “Fair enough. Why are you here now then?”  

“My little genius,” My father kisses my cheek. “Is starting MIT in the Fall!”  

“Oh, God. She’s a mini you!” I easily recognize Bucky Barnes from his signature metal arm.   

“But with better fashion sense!” I give all of them a winning smile.  

“Can we come back to Captain America needing fashion help.” The Black Widow is grinning from her place next to the couch.  

The Avengers all look at me with expectant gazes. Barnes looked all too happy at the topic. I simply shrug. “You look like America's 4 year old daughter after she’s finally allowed to pick out her own clothing. You were practically glowing, that outfit was so bright. It’s like you were asking for the enemy to notice you. Get a stylist!”  

Steve Rogers’ face starts to turn red. “It worked back in the 40’s during the war.”  

“No, honey, it didn’t.” Bucky and Sam are starting to laugh behind their hands. “People just loved you more than they disliked the suit.”  

Rodgers’ face is a deep red right now. “It’s an iconic antique.”  

“Then put it in a museum and leave it there.” Bucky finally snaps and roars with laughter. Sam isn’t far behind as he lands on the floor to roll around.  

“I’m sorry, who is the tiny french girl who’s verbally beating up Steve?” Bruce Banner is standing by the elevator with the most confused expression on his face.  

“Tony’s daughter, apparently.” Clint shrugs.  

“And Tony has had a daughter for how long?”  

“15 years.” I give Banner a bright smile. “I’ve read several of your papers. Your gamma radiation and nuclear physics work is amazing, but I preferred the stuff on Biochemistry. I have some ideas I was hoping you take a look at.”  

Bruce blinks a few times. “I-15 years-What kind of ideas?”  

“Bacta patches. I want to see if I can make them real. I’ve written out some formulas, but haven’t been able to really talk to anyone about them yet or test them out.”   

“Uhh...Sure. Bacta patches, like from Star Wars?”  

“Yup.”  

“Tony, your daughter is a fashionista and a nerd. I’ve only ever heard of such rare creatures.” Bucky was no longer laughing at Steve, but still looked too happy.   

“Technically, I’m a fashion designer.”  

“Tony, you daughter is a fashion designer and a nerd.”  

“Who has an IQ of 265!” My Father is smiling down at me, pride filling his eyes.  

A glass drops and shatters across the floor. “Holy shit!” is whispered from someone in the room.  

My Father ignores all of this. “Well, I’m going to introduce Mari to the rest of the kids. Carry on!”  

I give a small wave to the stunned adults. “Bye! It was nice to meet all of you! I’ll speak to you later Doctor Banner.”   

My Father pushes me into the elevator, leaving several flabbergasted Avengers. I raise an eyebrow as the elevator moves down a few levels. “You didn’t tell them about me.”  

He snorts. “And miss that interaction. That was so much better than I could ever have ever dreamed.”  

The door dings open and I’m suddenly in a smaller version of the top floor living room. There were 9 teenagers sitting around a coffee table, a variety of bags scattered around the couches and loveseats. All of the heads look up at me when I come in.  

The oldest male swears in english. “Damn it Stark, how many of us are you going to kidnap?”  

I raise an eyebrow and turn my head up. “Kidnap?”  

My father gasps dramatically. “Kidnap? I did not kidnap! Your parents practically threw you at me once I showed up.”  

One of the other boys snorts. “Aunt May is still angry about Germany. She said if you showed up at our house again, she’d throw you out the window.”  

My father shrugs. “Your Aunt is a terrifying force of nature.”  

A blonde girl rolls her eyes and walks up to me. A hand shoots out. “Gwen Stacy, I’m from New York and I’m 17.”   

I take her hand. “A pleasure.”  

The oldest boy sticks his hand in the air. “Harley Keener, Tennessee. Also 17.”  

The boy with a terrifying aunt gives me a small wave. “Peter Parker, Queens. 16.”  

Brown haired latina woman gives me a nod. “Anya Corazon. I’m from Brooklyn. 16, as well.”  

The last guy briefly looks up from the computer in his lap to give me a smile. “Ned Leeds. I’m from New York and I’m 16, too.”  

The girl next to him does even look up as she waves. “MJ. New York. 17. Nice shoes.”  

I glance down. “Thanks.”  

MJ nods, still looking at my computer. She nudges the guy on the floor next to her foot.  He pulls off his headphones and gives me a wave. “Oh, hey! Miles Morales. Brooklyn native. Freshly 16.”  

A girl about my age looks up from the small project in her hand. “Riri Willaims, Chicago. 15.”  

Lastly was a girl who looked even younger than me. She waves from her seat on the floor by Riri. “Peni Parker, no relation to Peter Parker. I’m from New York. I’m 14, but will be 15 in two months.”  

I wave back. “Hi, I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Stark. I’m from Paris and I turn 15 tomorrow.”  

Harley chokes on the drink he’d just swallowed. “I’m sorry, Stark?”  

I nod. “Tony’s my Dad. We’ve just kept it on the downlow so I could have a normal childhood.”  

Everyone one is looking at me. I simply shrug it off. “So, you guys are all going to the International Technology Showcase in D.C. this summer, right?”  

There’s several nods. “Yup.” Peni gives me a wide smile. “We’ve all got stuff to showcase. What about you?”  

“I’ve got my showcase pieces.”  

My Father claps me on my shoulder. “Ok, now that you are all here,  can give you guys a tour.”  

Ned shuts his computer and Riri sets the components in her hands down on the coffee table. I set my backpack on the ground as my father guides us to a door on the right. He flips on a switch to reveal a large game room, complete with several large TV’s and game consoles. “This is the Game Room.”  

He walks across the main living room and flips on another light. A huge kitchen with a large table sits in this room. “Kitchen and dining room are here.”  

He points up. “Bedrooms are on the next two level. Boys on the next floor, girls above them. All of the rooms have labels and there is a central living space where the stairs and elevator dump you out. The floor below us is a training room. The two floors below that are labs. Engineering labs on the upper floor and a Biochem lab on the floor below. We expect to see you all at some point, so don’t live in isolation.” Dad walks back over to the elevator. “Have fun, just don’t blow up the building.” We all watch him wave as the elevator door closes.  

It’s silent as everyone looks at each other awkwardly. I roll my eyes after a few seconds. “So, Star Wars marathon? Who’s in?”  

Ned and Peter immediately stick their hands up, to the amusement of Gwen and MJ. Riri nods. “I’m up for anything. What are we doing for dinner?”  

Miles shrugs. “I don’t know how to cook.”  

I roll my eyes. “I’ll order pizza. How does a Deluxe, Margarita, and a Meat Lover’s sound.”  

“You getting drinks?” Harley raises an eyebrow.  

“A couple two liters, some normal breadsticks and some of those dessert pizzas that look like someone dumped a whole bag of sugar and icing on top.” I get a nod from Harley.  

Anya nods. “I don't know what you all are going to do over the next hour, but I’m moving in. Pizza and movies in an hour or so?”  

I pull out my phone and start to put in the order. “Should work. I don’t know about you all, but I am putting on sweatpants.” I grab my bag from the floor and handle of my suitcase as I make my way to the elevator.   

Peter starts to pull out his wallet. “How much do we own you?”  

I shake my head. “Nothing.”  

Peter shakes his head. “That doesn’t seem fair.”  

I raise an eyebrow. “My Dad is a billionaire. He paid for a quart of strawberries with a Jaeger-LeCoultre watch. He can buy us pizza.”  

“A Jaeger-LeCoultre watch, serious?” Riri looks absolutely annoyed.  

“Stark just gave a bunch of teenagers 6 floors all for ourselves with no supervision.” Harley snorts. “He doesn’t seem to think everything through.”  

“He has FRIDAY watching us.” I press the confirmation button on the Pizza. “Pizza will be here in 45. But, ya. My Dad has FRIDAY and KAREN keeping an eye on all of us.”  

Harley gets a look in his eye. “We have babysitting monitors!” A scary smile graces his lips. “I say we revolt!”  

Gwen face palms, but it’s too late. MJ, Peter, Riri, Peni and Miles all look too excited. Frankly, so was I. “Anyone know a lawyer?” Riri is grinning now too.  

Peter sticks his hand up. “Mathew Murdock.”  

Anya seems to be getting excited too. “So, what are we rebelling?”  

“Baby monitor protocols!”   

Gwen rolls her eyes, but caves. “We need more than that!”  

I bite my lip. “We also need time. We need our own AI.”  

“How are we adding in our own AI to the tower?” Ned has his computer under his arm as we enter the elevator.   

“I helped design the security for this building. Once we have our own AI, I add them to the tower’s system. Once we’ve done that I’ll take FRIDAY out of our 6 floors and add in our AI.”  

Silence for a second as the elevator doors close. “Can you keep Tony out of our floors?” Peni is practically vibrating.  

“I can keep everyone off our floors.”  

Harley throws his arms into the air. “We revolt at dawn!”  

“After the Star Wars Marathon!” Peter and Ned have thrown their arms into the air too. Peni joins in with Miles and soon several teens are cheering in this tiny elevator.   

I blink a few times and van’t help the smile that forms onto my face. How did my dad find these crazy teenagers?  

Before ~~~~~ Next

[prettywordsyouleft]

Forsaken | Part 8

Summary: As one of the Forsaken, Jinyoung had no right to covet anything as his own. When he stumbles across you standing in the middle of the village he had plundered, the memories of old make him risk it all, clutching at the past in hopes for a better future.

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader

Genre: warrior au / star crossed lovers / angst / romance

Warnings: death, kidnapping, cursing, a myriad of emotions - this is a really sad love story.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 

It was different now.

Your days weren’t spent cleaning or preparing meals for the camp – much to everyone’s disappointment. Of course, you still managed to turn dinner into something delicious when you were finished with your training, but quite often you were too exhausted to go the extra mile as you once had.

As soon as Jinyoung had signalled the need to start preparing, you had been put under Mark’s guidance. There he had worked on improving your aim with an arrow, your speed increasing with the intense practice. Whilst you were nowhere near the level of archer Mark was, you felt capable wielding the weapon.

A sword, however, was an entirely other ball game. “What, no, I couldn’t.”

“You can and you will,” Jinyoung encouraged, handing you his sword. You almost dropped it, not expecting the weight behind it. Jinyoung sighed and came over to support you. “Careful, this isn’t a toy.”

“Precisely. I don’t understand why I need to be anywhere near it.”

“I need to know you can protect yourself if I can’t reach your side immediately.”

Panic flashed throughout you. “Why, where will you be?!”

“There are a lot of variables in what we’re trying to do, Y/N. I can’t bring you along with me unarmed.”

“So I’ll use bow and arrow.”

“Up close in battle?” he commented darkly and you went to respond until you noted the concern deeply embedded in his eyes.

Swallowing heavily, you fixed your grip around the hilt, inching your hands apart between the guard and pommel. Jinyoung worked behind you on your posture and helped you raise the weapon in front of you. “Spread your legs to support your weight, good, much better. Have you got it?”

“I’ve got it.”

“Swing out at that bag hanging from the tree there then.”

“Swing it out how?” you wondered, turning to look at Jinyoung and with the weight of the sword, you tumbled forward with a sudden loss in balance. Jinyoung lurched towards you to help you back upright and gave you a pointed look. “Well, you said swing but never showed me how.”

“Like this,” he said as he directed your movement a couple of times, you nodding when you felt you had the hang of it.

Stepping towards the bag a little more, you then swung the sword, the bag splitting upon impact. You jolted some with the force but your excitement of hitting the target made you laugh with triumph. “I did it!”

“Okay, so you swung a sword once and almost fell over, nothing to be that victorious over, your opponent would have you on the ground by now.”

Grumbling under your breath, you followed Jinyoung’s calm instructions and continued to practice, even trying a jab a couple of times.

“Good, now aim to break this stick,” Jinyoung asked and held it up in front of himself. You blinked slowly and made no effort to follow through. “Y/N, now!”

“But, you’re in front of me.”

“Of course, because when we are protecting ourselves, there’s usually always an attacker. Right now, that’s me. Now take out my sword, which is represented with this stick.”

“I can’t wield a weapon at you!” you exclaimed and Jinyoung moved swiftly, disarming you from the sword and pointed the tip right at your chest. With an arched eyebrow, Jinyoung shook his head at you.

“Why can’t you?”

“Because it’s you.”

“That excuse doesn’t work, Y/N. We’re not just running along the countryside to catch a fishing boat. We’re risking ourselves every minute away from this place. As soon as I turn my back on the Rebellion, they will send their hunters our way and treat us as prey. They are trained killers, and-”

“So are you, all of you are. Youngjae and I will do our best,” you interjected, sending him a pout before turning on your heel. Jinyoung shifted in front of you, walking you backward with the point of the sword now lightly nudging you in the chest. “Jinyoung, I’m not a killer.”

“I do not want to make you one but there may come a time where you need to choose to fight. What will you do if someone cuts me down?”

“Don’t speak like that to me,” you pleaded with a sob but Jinyoung didn’t relent. You imagined the scene within your head, your actual vision now blurred with a veil of tears. Gasping as the cruel conjured image continued to play out in your head, you moved with ease towards the grip of the sword, taking it out of Jinyoung’s hand and pointed it at him.

“Good girl,” he breathed, stepping around you and hugging you from behind. You dropped the weapon with a clatter and gripped at his arms around you.

“I want to keep learning,” you announced shakily, turning around to bury into him. “So I can protect you too.”

“Will you take any of this with you?” you asked as you looked around at Jinyoung’s trinkets. The man working on strengthening a satchel bag, stopped for a moment to stare at you. He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “What?”

“You.”

“Whilst I’m pleased that you don’t plan to leave me behind, what about your finds over the years?”

“They were never mine, all taken from those I stole from.”

“Surely this gold statue will be good to trade for money,” you pointed out, lifting it from the desk. “Oh, it’s really heavy.”

Jinyoung smirked. “It’s a missing treasure. Our hands would be cut off before they pay us for it.”

“Wow, this world is undecidedly cruel.”

“I tried so hard to keep you in some pretty space, didn’t I? It’s not realistic. The world we both survive in is cutthroat. You work hard and die trying. It’s just how it goes.”

“Do you think we’ll make it to the boat?” you questioned softly, not looking in his direction. Jinyoung didn’t respond and you sighed. “Why go if we’re-”

“Because at least we’ll die trying.”

“I want to make it. I’ll believe we will in everyone’s stead. I will project that we can make it.”

“Just like that tree, huh?”

You smiled, thinking back to the past once more.

“You will not even make it past the trunk. It’s got no true footing for you to grip on to.”

“I want to rescue my kite you made me,” you proclaimed and Jinyoung shook his head.

“I’ll make you another one.”

“I love that one.”

“Don’t be silly, you’ll fall and get hurt.”

“No, I’ll make it, just you watch!” you refuted, marching up to the tree and looked around for something to help you scale it. Sticking your shoe into a groove on the bark, you attempted to grasp at a knot up higher.

You ended up flat on your bottom a moment later.

“See, I told-”

You got back up and tried again, and again, until you were triumphant in reaching your beloved kite. When you stretched out to pull it from the tree, however, you lost your balance, toppling from the branch you had precariously sat on and landed straight into Jinyoung’s waiting arms, the pair of you then falling to the ground with a thud.

“I don’t know whether to be proud of you for doing the unexpected or whine at you for bruising my ribs.”

“Both. I’ll accept both,” you mentioned with a smile, leaning in to peck his lips as pre-emptive pain relief. “I’ll kiss you until you feel better for us to go fly this kite again.”

“Can I choose something to take?” you asked, leaning over the desk and pulling out a leather-bound journal.

Jinyoung’s eyes flashed with recognition. “How did you find that?”

“When I was cleaning. I was reading it when you got back. You owe me an apology for lying. You did a whole lot more than not think of the past, Jinyoung.”

“Writing you letters was my only vice,” he muttered, seemingly satisfied at the way you clutched the book to your bosom all the same. “Fine, take it. Just don’t expect me to read them to you.”

“Now there’s an idea!” you exclaimed, flipping the book open eagerly. Jinyoung snatched it out of your hand and snapped it closed. “Jinyoung, I want to hear all about how you missed the way the moonlight illuminated my sleeping form beside you and how each full moon-”

He cut you off with a hasty kiss then, pulling you into his lap to deepen it. Your humour was now lost in among the steadily building desire, your hands anchoring to the collar of his shirt as not to be swept away with this strong emotion.

Jinyoung pulled away, breathing heavily. “You don’t need me to read them to you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I plan to experience it all with you in person instead,” he stated confidently, bringing you in for another mind-blowing embrace.

All the moments you had dreamed of over the years were blooming into fruition.

Your love for Jinyoung would blind you both from what was to come.

_________________

Part 9

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[thewidowsghost]

Chapter 28

Previously on Fox:

(Y/n) walks over to the bathroom and changes real quick and hangs her uniform up in the closet and pulls out her black and white Nikes from earlier in the morning, and pulls them on and tying them.

"I thought you wanted to see how we went before we told anyone?" (Y/n) asks, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Natasha.

"I feel like we're going to be together for a long time," Natasha admits and (Y/n) smiles warmly.

"Forever," (Y/n) says, giving her a soft kiss, and Natasha's heart swells. "Come on," (Y/n) stands up, offering her hand and Natasha takes it, the two walking out into the living room.

3rd Person POV

"Hey (Y/n)," Sam says and he throws her a Gatorade and she catches it.

"Is everyone coming to watch like the last time?" (Y/n) asks as the three walk out of the house and towards the track.

"You don't think they want to see Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers 2.0 in another race?" Sam says, and (Y/n) shakes her head, letting out a breath of laughter. "I almost won the last time."

"Nope, I ran 15 miles in 45 minutes, you really trying me?" (Y/n) asks teasingly.

"Holy crap there's a lot of people here," Natasha says, looking around and looking at the outdoor bleachers where about a hundred fifty people are sitting, talking excitedly.

"This usually is how it happens," a new voice says, and the three turn to see a woman, probably five foot three, dirty blond hair, and silver eyes.

"Umansky," Sam says.

"Sasha," (Y/n) adds, "you're the new Drill Commander. Nice to see you stepping up," (Y/n) smiles at the younger woman.

"Yeah, well, I had some inspiration," Sasha says.

"(Y/n) does tend to inspire people," Natasha says and (Y/n) smiles warmly at her girlfriend.

"Aww Nat, that's sweet," (Y/n) says.

"Hi, I've never seen you around here. I'm Sasha," Sasha says, nodding to Natasha.

"I'm Natasha, (Y/n)'s girlfriend," Natasha says.

"You've been gone for three months," Ryan says, coming up. "Been training to beat Sam again? Already beat him in the relationship category."

(Y/n) laughs while Sam fake pouts. (Y/n) takes a sip of Gatorade before Ryan turns to Natasha. "Wanna come and sit with us and watch?" he asks.

"Sure," Natasha answers. "Want me to hold that?" she gestures to (Y/n)'s Gatorade.

"Thanks, wish me luck," (Y/n) says.

"I bet you won't need it," Natasha says and (Y/n) goes a little red.

"Come on, slow poke," Sam calls over his shoulder and (Y/n) rolls her eyes and jogs after him.

"Right, you've got a half marathon run today," Ryan says into a microphone and everyone goes silent, their eyes fixed on the to friendly competitors. "That's twenty-six laps."

(Y/n) sits down on the track and stretches. "You still haven't learned to stretch before you run?" she asks Sam, teasingly. "You might be faster," she jumps to her feet.

"Right," Ryan says, "Get ready," (Y/n) relaxes slightly, pulling her hair into a ponytail. "Get set. Go!"

(Y/n) starts off at a slow jog, letting Sam pull ahead of her for a couple of laps then she speeds up, almost at a full sprint and surpassing Sam and lapping him about ten times.

"On your left," (Y/n) says teasingly, passing Sam again.

"Yep."

"On your left."

"Yep."

(Y/n) comes up behind him again. "Don't say it, don't say it!"

"On your right."

"Seriously!" Sam breaks into a sprint and hold out for a little while when (Y/n) finishes, ten laps before Sam.

"Right Sam," (Y/n) calls as he approaches. (Y/n) jogs and keeps pace with Sam until he finishes. "Not bad, Sammy," (Y/n) says.

"You just ran 18 miles in no time whatsoever," Sam says, "and you're barely sweating."

"She's special," Natasha says, coming over to meet the two friends. Sam's laughs as (Y/n)'s cheeks dust a light red.

"I'm not the only one," (Y/n) says.

"You two are disgustingly cute," Sam says and (Y/n) laughs.

Sasha runs over to meet the three. "Captain," she addresses (Y/n), "I have the Drill Team ready to start if you would like to begin now."

"Please Sasha, just call me (Y/n), and sure, let's go," (Y/n) says.

"That's not respectful to you," Sasha says, leading (Y/n) and Natasha into the gym.

"It's alright," (Y/n) says firmly.

After a moment, Sasha nods.

"Here," Natasha hands (Y/n) her Gatorade and (Y/n) takes it, giving Natasha a smile before taking a sip.

Natasha and (Y/n) sit on the bleachers, (Y/n) waiting for the rest of the Drill Team members to show up.

"What do you want to do when we get home?" (Y/n) asks.

"I'm kind of feeling just hanging around before we have to go back to work," Natasha answers.

"I was hoping you were going to say that," (Y/n) leans up against her girlfriend for a little while.

After about five minutes, the Drill Team walks in and (Y/n) stands up. "Duty calls," (Y/n) says cheerfully, bending down to kiss Natasha on the cheek before walking over to the Drill Team.

"Sasha, come here," (Y/n) says, coming to attention at the top left-hand corner of the gym. Sasha jogs over and comes to attention beside (Y/n). "Now, have them fall in. Make sure you don't yell, project. There's a big difference between yelling and projecting."

"Platoon, fall in," Sasha calls, not being able to be heard over the air conditioning.

"Here, listen," (Y/n) clears her throat. "Platoon, fall in!" the Drill Team hurries over and falls in, adjusting to be in the correct position. "You want to make your voice, well, deeper I guess. Have them go to at ease," (Y/n) tells the shorter woman beside her.

"Platoon, at ease!" Sasha orders, and the platoon crisply moves to the position of at ease, their feet fifteen inches apart, their arms folded behind their back.

(Y/n) moves to stand in front of Thomas, the new Company Guideon. "When you go to at ease, you want to slide your hand up and turn it as you go. Here," (Y/n) holds out her hand for the Guideon and Thomas hand it to her, the woman almost taller than the pole.

(Y/n) comes to attention in front of Thomas, and then proceeds to move to at ease, her hand sliding up and pushing the Guideon out to tilt at a forty-five degree angle in front of her. Then she snaps back to attention, her feet coming together and sliding her hand back down, the Guideon coming to sit parallel to her. (Y/n) hands Thomas the Guideon.

Going back to stand by Sasha, she nods to Amelia, the First Squad leader, and the Asian woman smiles back at her former Drill Commander.

"Have them come to attention now," (Y/n) says, walking around and catching Natasha's eye, and she sends her girlfriend a smile from across the gym.

"Platoon, attention!"

The whole platoon snaps to attention, and (Y/n) nods. She circles to stand by Sasha again, and begins to explain how to direct the platoon, Natasha watching her girlfriend talking to the shorter woman, a soft smile crossing the green eyed woman's face.

"I'm going to go sit by Natasha, and you've got to direct the platoon so I can still hear you," (Y/n) says and Sasha nods.

(Y/n) jogs over to sit by Natasha and nods to Sasha to begin. (Y/n) grabs her Gatorade and takes a sip watching as Sasha marches the platoon around the gym, Sasha's commands getting better with each on she gives.

"She's good," (Y/n) says.

"She had a good teacher," Natasha says, and (Y/n) smiles softly, her (E/C) gaze sparkling happily.

(Y/n) raises her hand and Sasha brings the platoon to a halt. The (H/C) haired woman catches sight of a drill saber sitting on the bleaches not far away from her and she grabs it, flicking the scabbard off skillfully, Natasha taking note of the movement as (Y/n) walks away. (Y/n) flashes a smile over her shoulder, Natasha smiling softly back, as (Y/n) buckles the sword belt around her waist.

(Y/n) walks back over to Sasha, Natasha watching her girlfriend exchange a few words with Sasha, resting the sword on her shoulder, (Y/n) showing Sasha how to swing it. Sasha draws her saber from her belt, and then (Y/n) steps away, motioning for them to continue.

(Y/n) watches for a little while, the dulled blade of the saber still resting against her shoulder. After a few minutes, (Y/n) has the platoon stop again, in position to do an eyes right, a movement to salute the officers observing the platoons.

(Y/n) stands by Sasha and goes through the movements to march up to the Guideon, in front of the first squad leader. Then she turns to Thomas, who was looking a little uncertain.

(Y/n) sheaths the saber, and walks over to Thomas. "You're doing fine," (Y/n) tells the nervous eighteen year old. "Do you know how to do an eyes right?" she asks and Thomas shakes his head. Thomas hands the Captain the Guideon.

"What you're going to want to do," (Y/n) takes the Guideon and pulls it up and out, the Guideon pole parallel to the floor. "You pull it up," (Y/n) pulls the Guideon back up, and then demonstrates the movement in slow motion, "and out. So when you're marching, you do the same thing, but you'll want to pull it out enough so you don't impale Stephen behind you." Stephen is a tall, blond haired man with piercing blue eyes. "Do you want to see me do it, or do you think you can do it on your own?"

"Could you show me once?" Thomas asks.

(Y/n) falls into the Guideon's place in the platoon. "Platoon, Attention!" she commands, her voice echoing strongly through the gym. "Forward," on the command forward, (Y/n) uses her left hand to slide the Guideon up about six inches, "March!" The Platoon moves steadily forward at (Y/n)'s cadents, "Left! Left! Left! Right! Right! Eyes, Right!" on Eyes Right, (Y/n) snaps the Guidon forward holding it steady until she gives the command, "Ready, Front!" On Ready, (Y/n) slaps the pole with her left hand, and on Front, she pulls it back down. "Platoon, Halt!" the platoon takes a step then stops. Then she turns to Thomas who had been marching beside her. "Get the drift?" she asks and the short brunet nods.

(Y/n) hand the young man the Guideon back and draws the saber again, and walks over to stand by Sasha.

"Give them two, To-the-Rears, and then give them a Halt," (Y/n) says. "I want you to try."

Sasha nods, and goes as (Y/n) had said, effectively turning the platoon around to stand in the correct position.

(Y/n) nods and Sasha marches up to stand next to Thomas. Sasha leads her platoon through the Eyes Right and when she's done, brings the platoon to a halt.

(Y/n) sheaths the saber again and walks up to Sasha. "You're doing amazing!"

"Thanks (Y/n)," Sasha says, lifting her head proudly.

"I don't think you guys need me anymore," (Y/n) says and the whole platoon looks over at the same time, startling (Y/n) a little, forgetting that they sometimes did that. "I'm impressed with your progress, all of you." (Y/n) nods to her former drill team, and they all cheer loudly, Natasha looking up, a concerned expression on her face. Then her expression shifts into a smile as she sees the drill team hoisting (Y/n) onto their shoulders.

"This feels like a liability issue," (Y/n) says and they all laugh. "Don't drop me," she warns, though she was used to it. Every time they won a drill meet, this would happen.

After a minute, they set (Y/n) back on the ground, and (Y/n) unbuckles her sword belt and holding it out to Amelia. A surprised expression on her face. "Are you sure?" she asks, and (Y/n) nods. Amelia takes the sword belt and the rest of the team murmurs their approval.

(Y/n) then turns to Sasha, "Good job," she wraps the shorter woman in a hug, a friendly smile on her face. "It's nice to see how much you've improved since last year."

"Thank you so much," Sasha says, then she nods towards Natasha. "She's a catch."

"Oh, I know," (Y/n) smiles, nodding to Sasha, then walking over to Natasha. The redhead stands up and the two women walk over to the door to go outside.

"Hey (Y/n)," the two turn around to see Amelia, (Y/n)'s old sword belt still in her hand.

"Amelia, what is it?" then (Y/n) realizes what's up and she shakes her head. "Okay, fine. One last time."

(Y/n) shifts into a lion, and lets out a loud roar and the drill team cheers again. (Y/n) shifts back into herself and shares an amused glance with Natasha before the two walk outside.

The two make their way - (Y/n) leading - to Ryan's office.

(Y/n) knocks on the doorframe before she walks in.

"I heard the roar from here, I take it everything went well," Ryan says, looking up from his paperwork.

"Yeah actually, Sasha learns quickly. I think that my work here is done," (Y/n) tells her former Commanding Officer.

"Good, you and Natasha can go back home now," Ryan says and (Y/n) nods. The blond man stands up and walks around his desk. "Thanks for coming back to help," he says, bringing her in for a hug.

"No problem, I told you that if you needed me to call," (Y/n) says, stepping back out of the hug.

Then Ryan turns to Natasha. "It was really nice to meet you Natasha," the blond pulls Natasha into a hug and the redhead tenses for a moment before relaxing at (Y/n)'s nod.

Ryan steps back and smiles. "See you around."

"Bye!" (Y/n) waves and her and Natasha walk out of the office, (Y/n) gently taking Natasha's hand.

"You're really good with a sword," Natasha comments as the two walk back to the house Sam had where their stuff was. "I saw you flick the sword out of the scabbard, that takes skill."

"I got into sword fighting after I graduated from college," (Y/n) explains. (Y/n) opens the door to the house and walks into the bedroom and grabs her uniform out of the closet and folding it and placing it into her suitcase.

The two finish and grab their stuff, and walk out to the Quinjet to go back home.

Word Count: 2610 words

So, the next chapter is going to be a timeskip of about a year. Y'all wanted more Father Tony and daughter moments, so y'all gonna get it.

See y'all!

Love,

           Kaitlynn 😍❤

The Drill Team thing is actually based on my own experiences, and I thought it would be fun to add some of my own touch to the story. I've got some pictures down below for any of you interested people. I'm the tiny, short child with a saber up front.

Imma tag peoples now: @confusinggemini612, @gay-disaster826, @thelastavenger-3000, @osugahunnyicedtea, @night-howl199, @minicastle, @happilyeverafterfantasybooks, @billiebanner, @me-and-sweatpants, @scottjudah, @scarlet-raccoon, @whore-for-charlynch, @nyx-aria, @night-howl199, @brittanyrenne2004, @juegamiri29, @minicastle, @peggycarter-steverogers, @gay-disaster826, @guitargodme, @avengers-avenging, @natashadeservedbetter2​

[newstfionline]

Tuesday, October 5, 2021

‘Major’ Oil Spill Off California Coast Threatens Wetlands and Wildlife (NYT) A pipeline failure off the coast of Orange County, Calif., on Saturday caused at least 126,000 gallons of oil to spill into the Pacific Ocean, creating a 13-square-mile slick that continued to grow on Sunday, officials said. Dead fish and birds washed ashore in some places as cleanup crews raced to try to contain the spill, which created a slick that extended from Huntington Beach to Newport Beach. It was not immediately clear what caused the leak, which officials said occurred three miles off the coast of Newport Beach and involved a pipeline failure. Mayor Kim Carr of Huntington Beach said at a news conference on Sunday afternoon that the spill was “one of the most devastating situations our community has dealt with in decades.”

The Pandora Papers (Foreign Policy) The massive leak of secret financial data has revealed the offshore wealth of some of the world’s most powerful people. The data, dubbed the Pandora Papers by International Consortium of Investigative Journalists—the group that spearheaded the project—shows how far some world leaders, billionaires, and other oligarchs have gone to hide their wealth. Considering the vast wealth of America’s own oligarchs, it’s surprising on first blush to see no U.S. names mentioned. One simple explanation, put forward by the Washington Post, is that U.S. millionaires and billionaires have enough tools available within the U.S. tax code to shield most of their wealth already.

Spain’s foreign tourism soars but well below pre-pandemic level (Reuters) Foreign tourism to Spain rose rapidly in August as looser travel restrictions tempted back summer sunseekers though visitor numbers remained at around half their pre-pandemic levels, official statistics showed on Monday. The number of foreign tourists visiting in August more than doubled from a year ago to 5.19 million but was still barely above half the level seen in 2019, the National Statistics Institute said on Monday.

Farmers among 8 killed as India protest erupts in violence (CNN) At least eight people were killed when violence broke out in India’s Uttar Pradesh state on Sunday after a car linked to a federal minister ran over two farmers taking part in a protest against controversial farm laws. A farmers’ union spokesperson said Sunday the deaths happened after a convoy of vehicles associated with junior home affairs minister Ajay Mishra Teni “ran over several protesters.” Protests in Lakhimpur Kheri began on September 25 after Teni reportedly said “farmers should reform themselves or they will be reformed,” according to CNN affiliate CNN-News18.

India’s Christians living in fear as claims of ‘forced conversions’ swirl (Guardian) It was a stifling July afternoon when the crowd moved into the small district of Lakholi, in the Indian state of Chhattisgarh, and gathered outside the house of Tamesh War Sahu. Sahu, a 55-year-old volunteer with the Home Guard who had begun following Christianity more than five years previously, had never before had issues with his neighbours. But now, more than 100 people had descended from surrounding villages and were shouting Hindu nationalist slogans outside his front door. Sahu’s son Moses, who had come out to investigate the noise, was beaten by the mob, who then charged inside. As the men entered the house, they shouted death threats at Sahu’s wife and began tearing posters bearing Bible quotes down from the walls. Bibles were seized from the shelves and brought outside where they were set alight, doused in water and the ashes thrown in the gutter. “We will teach you a lesson,” some people were heard to shout. “This is what you get for forcing people into Christianity.”      Sahu’s family was not the only one attacked that day. Four other local Christian households were also targeted by mobs, led by the Hindu nationalist vigilante group Bajrang Dal, known for their aggressive and hardline approach to “defending” Hinduism. Since the beginning of the year there have been similar attacks across Chhattisgarh, already the Indian state with the second highest number of incidents against Christians. In some villages, Christian churches have been vandalised, in others pastors have been beaten or abused. Congregations have been broken up by mobs and believers hospitalised with injuries. The police, too, stand accused—of making threats to Christians, hauling them into police stations and carrying out raids on Sunday prayer services. The attacks have coincided with renewed attention on a longstanding claim from rightwing Hindu groups: that a string of forced conversions are taking place in Chhattisgarh. Such claims have been made by senior figures in the ruling Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata party (BJP), which governs India.

Japan’s Parliament elects former diplomat Kishida as new PM (AP) Japan’s parliament on Monday elected Fumio Kishida, a former moderate turned hawk, as prime minister. He’ll face an economy battered by the pandemic, security threats from China and North Korea and leadership of a political party whose popularity is sagging ahead of a fast-approaching crucial national election. He replaces Yoshihide Suga, who resigned after only one year in office as his support plunged over his government’s handling of the pandemic and insistence on holding the Tokyo Olympics as the virus spread.

New Zealand admits it can no longer get rid of coronavirus (AP) New Zealand’s government acknowledged Monday what most other countries did long ago: It can no longer completely get rid of the coronavirus. Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern announced a cautious plan to ease lockdown restrictions in Auckland, despite an outbreak there that continues to simmer. Since early in the pandemic, New Zealand had pursued an unusual zero-tolerance approach to the virus through strict lockdowns and aggressive contact tracing. Under Ardern’s plan that starts Tuesday, Aucklanders will be able to meet outdoors with loved ones from one other household, early childhood centers will reopen and people will be able to go to the beach. The dates for a phased reopening of retail stores and later bars and restaurants have yet to be decided.

3,000 Yazidis Are Still Missing. Their Families Know Where Some of Them Are. (NYT) The voice messages sent by Abbas Hussein’s teenage son are heartbreaking in their matter-of-factness. The boy, a member of Iraq’s Yazidi minority who was kidnapped by Islamic State fighters seven years ago, asks about his mother and wonders why his father has not been in touch. In the messages sent last summer to his father, an unemployed laborer, the son says his captor will not let him send any more because his parents have not delivered payments as demanded. “Father, if you don’t have money, that’s OK. Just let me know,” says the teenager, who still has the voice of a child. “I will work and save money and give it to him to let me talk to you.”      Mr. Hussein has known for more than a year that his son and five other relatives are being held in Turkish-controlled northern Syria by a former ISIS fighter who joined the Syrian National Army—a Turkish-backed coalition of armed opposition groups that includes mercenaries and Syrian rebels. He’s one of roughly 3,000 Yazidis still missing after being captured by ISIS during its takeover of parts of Iraq and Syria. While most of the missing are presumed dead, hundreds more are thought to be alive and held captive in Syria or Turkey. In some cases, their families know where they are and have even been in contact with them or their captors. But financial support from governments and private donors, as well as interest from them in finding the missing Yazidis, has dried up.

Taliban-style security welcomed by some, feared by others (AP) It wasn’t 7 a.m. yet and already the line outside the police station’s gates was long, with men bringing their complaints and demands for justice to Afghanistan’s new Taliban rulers. Something new they immediately found: The Taliban fighters who are now the policemen don’t demand bribes like police officers did under the U.S-backed government of the past 20 years. “Before, everyone was stealing our money,” said Hajj Ahmad Khan, who was among those in line at the Kabul District 8 police station on a recent day. “Everywhere in our villages and in government offices, everyone had their hands out,” he said.      Many Afghans fear the harsh ways of the Taliban, their hard-line ideology or their severe restrictions of women’s freedoms. But the movement does bring a reputation for not being corrupt, a stark contrast to the government it ousted, which was notoriously rife with bribery, embezzlement and graft. Even residents who shudder at the potential return of punishments—such as chopping off the hands of thieves—say some security has returned to Kabul since the Taliban swept in on Aug. 15. Under the previous government, gangs of thieves had driven most people off the streets by dark. Several roads between cities are again open and have even been given the green light for travel by some international aid organizations.

Deadly, historic Tropical Cyclone Shaheen departs Oman after devastating flooding (Washington Post) In the course of a single day, an exceptionally rare hurricane-strength storm unloaded up to four years’ worth of rain along Oman’s northern coast, causing deadly flooding. Named Tropical Cyclone Shaheen, the tempest slammed ashore late Sunday, about 50 miles to the west of Muscat, Oman’s capital city. The storm has since departed, but not before leaving 11 dead in Oman, mostly because of flash flooding and landslides. The storm was also blamed for two fatalities in Iran, where the bodies of two fishermen were found.

[maggyoutthere]

It's funny how I'm actually putting effort on this. I'm putting actual effort on a shitpost.

Anyways I said I'd write a bad sonic creepypasta so here it is. Here's the catch: I like how its turning out so imma make it a 2-pary story. This is the first part. It doesn't have any scary shit but it has the basics for a shitty creepypasta: someone gets a old pirated/unreleased/defective game and tries them out despite getting warned that bad shit might happen.

Again I'm not a fluent English speaker so expect some grammar error and stuff like that ._.,

So ladies, gentlemen and non-bis, I present to you-

Sonic: Battle of Metal and Blood (Part 1)

Synopsis: Teen gets nostalgic mid-quarentine and starts playing old Sonic games. She asks for some cheat codes and shit happens.

So for context; I'm a 17 year old girl stuck home because of quarantine.

It had been 4 or 5 months since the virus sent everyone home. Students were playing Animal Crossing and DOOM all day to fill in the summer hours since no one could go outside. I never liked going to the beach so I was never really bothered by it.

Like many people, I found myself going back in time to easier phases of my life. I was rewatching old cartoon shows from my childhood, getting into MCR and P!ATD and just living in pure nostalgia. I also started getting into gaming again, even going to the point of setting up my Wii again just to play Epic Mickey, but I didn't exactly grow up with the Wii. I was more of a Playstation kid, so much that me and my bro got a Playstation 2 from our cousin when he eventually bought the 3rd one for himself.

My cousin was older than us; I remember him being 16 or 17 when I was like 12, so he was kind of our gaming hero. If there was a level in Crash Bandicoot we couldn't beat, we'd call my cousin and he'd do it in 15 minutes. He knew all the cheat codes, all the secret levels and extra content for the games he had; he was like a genius to me and my lil bro, so when he gave us his old Playstation 2 and games me and my sibling knew we were in for a treat.

We got this Sonic Gems Collection for the Playstation 2 from him. It's like a port of various older Sonic games like Sonic CD, Sonic The Fighters, Sonic R and so on. I grew up playing that game, especially Sonic The Fighters since I wasn't very good at the racing games.

I still had a working controller and a lot of free time so I asked my bro for help setting up the console. The thing was so dusty I was actually scared it wasn't going to work. We clicked the power button and the light on the console turned on. Me and my brother held our breaths as we put the DVD in the console and crossed our fingers. As the screen lit up with the SEGA logo and music started playing, I just hugged him and cheered. He set up the console in my room so I could play without having to go to his room (he was the one keeping all the electronic stuff) and told me to have fun.

I didn't even know where to start. There was so much I wanted to play now that I actually knew what I was doing. I thought about starting with my favourite one out of the bunch: Sonic CD. I'm a sucker for the retro 2D pixel games so that was a must. It was better than what I remembered; the music was so catchy and the art style was vibrant and it stood out from a lot of games nowadays that go for a washed out "hyper realistic" look.

As I kept playing, I eventually reached the level where Amy tags along with Sonic for a while before Metal Sonic bursts through a wall and kidnaps her. Oh yeah, Metal Sonic was a thing. I remembered him from Sonic R and Sonic The Fighters - and the fact he was in the fucking cover art of the DVD case. I absolutely loved the fucker in the games though. He had a cool design, and the idea of the villain being a copy of the hero gone wrong was so interesting to me at the time.

I ended up passing the level and even making it to Stardust Speedway. I was sweating since I'd never come this far at any game. My bro was there cheering me as I tried not falling on spikes or getting hit by Metal Sonic's attacks. I ended up making it till the end on top, but it was kinda sad seeing Metal crash face-first against the door like that.

I was done with that for a while, so I went ahead and played Sonic R and Sonic The Fighters for nostalgia. Again, the fucker was there, either as a boss or as an unlockable character. I ended up noticing how there were a bunch of games missing. There were empty grayed slots with question marks instead of the game titles. I couldn't understand if the game was broken or if there was something I was supposed to do, so I called my cousin in hope he would somewhat tell me what to do. He ended up explaining how the game made you complete all the other games to unlock new ones. I thought that was kinda stupid so I asked him if he had any cheat codes or something to make the whole thing available. He told me he was going to dig up his old stuff and ring me again if he found anything.

A few hours later, he sent me a message telling me he'd found something that should work. He told me he did have a cheat code but he thought it was best if I didn't do it. Here's the transcript from his message.

"There's something that might work but it's kinda weird. I got this memory card from a friend of mine and he said this should unlock all the hidden contents within the disc, but when I tried it some weird shit started happening. Most of the sonic games were unplayable no matter how many times I restarted the console or cleaned the disc. There should be an extra game slot but that's just a glitch. Something about the system trying to make up storage for the extra code. Just don't click on anything that looks like a glitch and you should be golden"

Well that was a bit discouraging, but we agreed to meet that afternoon so he could give me the memory card.

When I got home and plugged the cartridge into the slot on the console, I was kinda scared. What if the thing exploded or something? I gave it a try and the thing actually worked! As I clicked on the games section, everything was there! There were some vectorman games but I didn't know who that was at the time so I didn't really care about them. What I was more interested in was the museum. There were a bunch of unlockable promotional art and illustrations there that I never got to see as a kid, so you could imagine how joyful I was when I saw the museum section filled with pages upon pages of illustrations and renderings of the games. Some of them weren't even on the Gems Collection like some screenshots of Sonic Heroes.

I went back on the game menu and was surprised to see another game entry below all the vectorman ones. It was called "Sonic: Battle of Metal and Blood". What the hell was this? It surely wasn't in the cover art and a quick google search turned up nothing. Was it a glitch? It couldn't be; it looked too clean and intentionally made to be a glitch, not to mention that whole game titles don't just appear out of thin air. Game or not, something was programmed in there. I concluded it was probably someone's fan project that was in the memory card my cousin gave me. Why hadn't he mentioned it though?

I was too curious to turn down a mystery like this one, so I got up first to make a cup of coffee since it was already getting late. As I returned from the kitchen, I remembered to look at the synopsis of the game. I can't remember exactly what it said but it was something along the lines of:

"In this sequel to the famous Sonic CD, step in the shoes of Sonic's friends as they face their biggest challenge yet. Control Amy Rose and Miles "Tails" Prower and fight against the metallic faker himself, Metal Sonic, and stop him before he puts his plan to become the only Sonic in action"

Woah, that sounded exciting; I wasted no time. I got all cozy, kept my cup of coffee next to me

And pressed START.

To be continued in part 2

[justthehiddleswrites]

Should… | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Emma Masters) | Chapter 2 | … I Tell Him?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Emma Masters

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Masters just landed her first big acting gig on a soap opera. While it is not much, it is an opportunity to grow. While out celebrating, she meets up with a fellow actor, Tom Hiddleston. While she doesn’t recognize any of his work, the two hit it off. Before they know, they are getting hot and heavy in the elevator up to Tom’s room. Like ships passing in the night, the two never manage to meet again.Now five years later, Emma is a heavy hitter in the prime time drama world and Tom is a Golden Globe winning movie star. Their paths cross again but things have changed. Will they do what they should or fall to their deepest desires?

This Chapter:  Emma never expected to run in Tom again, but yet here he is in the same restaurant, five years later. Will he spill the beans on that one night and what will become of the sparks between the two of them!

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, drunk sex, oral sex, cheating, unhealthly relationships

-

“It is not that funny, Thomas,” Emma chuckled, digging her nails into Tom’s arm.

Tom took an empty seat at Emma’s table and Corrinne leaned in closer to Tom. Even though Corrinne worked as a publicist, she still swooned over celebrities—good-looking male celebrities. Tom fit that bill to a T. Tom squeezed your arm back.

“Well, maybe I exaggerate.”

“Come on you two, spill.” Corrinne urged on.

“I happened to be in New York when I partook of the hotel bar. Em and I ended up sharing a table.”

“I just won the part of on All My Heart and celebrated with a few drinks. Tom and I ended up talking for the rest of the night.”

Corrinne’s eyebrows arched up; she wanted more and Emma refused to cooperate.

“Although, she didn’t know who I was.” Tom added, giving Emma a playful punch in the shoulder. Emma blushed. Not her proudest moment.

“Emma! How did you not recognize him?” Corrinne said, aghast.

“I wasn’t into superhero movies five years ago! Sue me!”

Tom chuckled. “It was quite alright.”

“And?” Corrinne asked, wanting the rest of the story.

“And…” Tom continued, “we exchanged numbers with plans to meet again in three weeks when I returned to New York, but this one stood me up.”

Tom nudged Emma in the shoulder. Emma blushed. Thank God for Tom’s discretion. The gossip magazines would have a field day.

“I did not! We mutually cancelled!” Emma protested.

“Ah, no. I made plans, and you cancelled by text. Something about rehearsals. I assume someone got scared.”

Tom wiggled his eyebrows at Emma. Corrinne leaned back in her chair and looked at the two of them. Tom and Emma laughed at some unheard joke and Corrinne laughed along.

“But enough about the past,” Corrinne interjected, “What brings you to L.A., Tom? I thought you lived in London.”

“True. I am here for work.” Tom chattered on nervously, “I have some screen tests, auditions, and what not for an upcoming project.”

“I would assume a big movie star didn’t audition anymore.”

“Stories of my fame are exaggerated I am afraid. The auditions are for the leading lady in the project. You understand, Emma.”

Emma nodded.

“Yeah. I hate those chemistry tests. All those eyes on you.” Emma scrunched up her nose. She didn’t have Tom’s star power, so auditions took up a significant chunk of her time when she didn’t have filming.

“And what about Em? I thought you lived in New York?” Tom asked.

“Uh, I moved out here about two years ago. My series films out here.” Emma responded. She would never tell him but she followed his career and life in the papers over the years; she hoped Tom did the same, but his comment dashed her hopes.

“Oh, your series? Isn’t the show called something like Silver Surfer or Silver Fox?” Tom quipped, twisting his face into mock contemplation.

Tom lied. After that encounter in New York, he spent the following years keeping tabs on Emma’s career; the two Daytime Emmys for her role on All My Heart, Silver Sable, all of her accolades and successes.

“Silver Sable.”

“Right! And what kind of TV show is it? An action show of some sort?” Tom commented, relentless in getting the response he wanted.

“It’s a superhero show.” Emma muttered.

“I was under the impression you didn’t like superheroes?”

Corrinne chuckled at the banter. These two baited each other left and right.

“I’ve changed.” Emma snapped back, a smile on her face.

“So it seems.” Tom’s eyes raked over Emma’s body and she blushed once again.

Corrinne choked on her drink.

“But enough about me. What is—” Tom started before a gentleman tapped on his shoulder.

“Sorry to interrupt. Tom, we need you back at our table.” he said.

Tom rose from the chair.

“So sorry, Luke. I will be right back.”

Emma sighed in relief. With Tom leaving, her secret remained safe. Tom started off back towards his table but he spun on his heel, pulling his phone from his coat pocket.

“Before I leave, Em.” Emma popped her head up to look at him, “I need your number, the old one doesn’t work.”

Emma didn’t expect him to still know her old number. When her fame rose and her personal number somehow made its way into her fans’ hands, she changed numbers.

“Of course, Tom!” Emma rattled off her personal cell as Tom punched the digits into his cell.

“Perfect.” Tom leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. His lips still soft like Emma remembered. “I will call and we must do lunch!”

Tom jogged off before Emma responded. After a few minutes, Corrinne cleared her throat. Emma turned and narrowed her eyes at her friend. “Spill it.”

“So… there is more to this. Care to share?”

“No comment.”

“Fair enough. So he seems nice.”

Emma blushed.

“And sexy as fuck.”

“Corrinne!” Emma spat.

“What? That man is sex in a suit. So when are you going to tell him?”

“When I’m ready.” Emma mumbled as she returned her attention to her salad.

-

Tom texted her once so she would have his number too, but Emma guessed she wouldn’t run into Tom again for some time. It wasn’t as though the two of them ran in the same circles. Their only professional link was their portrayal of Marvel characters. She hustled through the next few days in a bit of a fog. She never expected to run into him again. And she didn’t expect all those feelings and emotions to rear their ugly head.

“Earth, Emma!” Mary, her assistant, yelled.

Emma jolted in her seat.

“Ahh!” Emma waving her arms about catching herself before she fell on her face. “Yes, Mary.”

Mary suppressed a giggle.

“Okay. you have auditions all afternoon. The first one is in an hour and across town.”

Emma groaned. Some days she regretted living in Brentwood. She enjoyed the space and privacy but hated that it meant driving for hours in Los Angeles traffic. Emma, a native New Yorker, never developed the taste for sitting in traffic for hours to go 30 miles.

“Fine. I will leave in fifteen minutes.” Emma rose from her chair to go get ready. “And since I will be gone for the rest of the day forward the calls to your cell and take off around 3.”

Mary’s face lit up.

“Thanks, boss! Don’t forget the last audition is at 4 and a chemistry test, so bring a change of clothes.”

Emma took off to her bedroom and took a quick shower. Fixing her hair into a simple ponytail, she applied a light amount of makeup and dug through her closet. She settled on some simple jeans and a nice top and packed a body-conscious dress along with some heels and a small bag of makeup for her last audition. Twenty minutes later, Emma took off in her car.

As predicted, Emma sat in traffic for an inordinate amount of time and made it to the studio with no time to spare. The audition process still bothered Emma. Although Emma’s career was well established in television, her agent hoped to use her success as Silver Sable to push Emma into film roles. That meant auditioning. Six months in and no one took the bait. Perhaps she should stick to TV.

The first audition was for a period drama. Emma could smell the Oscar bait a mile away. Based on the reaction Emma got when she walked into the room, she did not fit the role at all. The whole ordeal took ten painful minutes. Emma repeated the process two more times with varying degrees of success.

Once she reached her final audition, she ducked into the bathroom to change. Emma already went through several auditions for the part in a new romantic comedy. Now she came in for a chemistry test, the part she hated. Chemistry tests made Emma feel like an object, not a person. But these types of auditions were the cost of doing business.

Emma shimmied out of her jeans and slipped into the dress. The neckline was lower than her usual outfits but whatever. She pulled her hair down from the ponytail, letting it fall around her shoulders and retouched her makeup and added some extra mascara and blush. Emma examined herself in the mirror.

“Here goes nothing,” she said to no one in particular.

Emma walked back out into the hallway and took a seat with three other actresses. They all looked about five years younger than Emma, with their boobs cinched up to their chin and hems flirting with indecent exposure. Emma grew disheartened. All these other girls looked like they stepped out of the pages of a magazine, Playboy to be specific. Emma’s aesthetic was more akin to In Style. She looked over the lines as they called one of the other girls into the room. She could feel the butterflies; no matter how many times she did this, Emma always got butterflies.

After about 15 minutes, they called her in. She straightened out her dress as she walked into the room.

“And you will be reading with our male lead…” the PA explained as Emma looked up from the lines to see Tom standing in the room.

“Tom Hiddleston.” Emma finished.

Tom smiled.

“In the flesh, Emma.” Tom extended his hand, Emma shook it in a daze.

What the fuck is happening? kept repeating in Emma’s head, a mantra. She took a few deep breaths. She realized the people in the room were still talking.

“… so I will be kissing you in this scene.” Tom’s voice punctured through Emma’s mental haze.

She nodded, and the scene began as they took their places.

“Do you mind?” Emma started as she pushed past Tom.

“Do you mind? This is my room and my bed. You are a guest.” Tom countered.

“Really, that’s not what you called me last night.” Emma smirked as she moved closer to Tom, his blue eyes glittering in the lights.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You’re not my type.”

“Oh, you mean dumb, blonde, and young. Then you would be right!”

“If there was any other choice here, I would gladly take it.” Tom moved in closer, his nostrils flared.

“Keep to your side of the bed tonight. Your snoring kept me up.” Emma huffed out the line, her breath puffing into Tom’s face.

“Touch me with your cold feet one more time and see what happens.” Tom sneered as he leaned into her space. The tension ran high.

“You and what army?!” Emma barked as Tom pulled her into a kiss. She pushed at his arms but he held firm. She relented and melted into the kiss. The memories of that night flooded back to her. They parted and turned to look at the six other people in the room. For once, everyone looked Emma and Tom rather than staring at their phones or drinking their coffee.

“Uh… We’ll be in touch.” one of the men said.

Tom shook her hand again, and she walked out of the room. Emma got about halfway down the hallway when a voice rang out.

“WAIT!”

Emma stopped and turned to see the PA from earlier.

“Wait. Can you come with me?”

Emma blinked but followed the petite girl to another room. This one was empty, save a couple chairs and a couch.

“Just wait here, please.” the assistant asked as she gestured towards the couch.

Emma plopped down and kicked her heels off. She pulled her phone and started replying to emails. Twenty minutes passed and then forty-five minutes. After an hour and fifteen minutes, the PA returned and took Emma back into the same room. She expected to see the same group of people as before, no one remained. Except for Tom.

“What’s going on?”

Tom looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact and pushing a nonexistent piece of lint with his shoe.

“I was hoping you would accompany me to dinner?”

“Is that why I have been sitting in a room for over an hour?”

Emma’s face turned red. Tom’s face fell.

“In part. The casting directors wanted to bring you for another reading after everyone else finished, but I insisted it wasn’t necessary.”

Emma’s eyes widened.

“Are you saying I got the part?”

Tom smiled.

“Unofficially, yes. But wait for your agent to give you the news in a few days. Try to act surprised.”

Emma squeed out loud and did a little dance. Without considering the situation, she jumped up and kissed Tom on the lips. He blushed at the sudden contact.

“Does that mean yes to dinner?”

Emma nodded, not realizing what she agreed to until they pulled up to the restaurant.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

what's DFZ?

DFZ! DFZ! DFZ!

Okay, so, the DFZ series(es?) is kind of a catchall name for a couple of series by Rachel Aaron that take place in the same urban fantasy universe, the DFZ books and the Heartstriker books.  Urban cyberfantasy?  You could throw a lot of adjectives into that descriptor if you wanted to.

The general premise is that once upon a time Earth had magic.  A lot of magic.  Absolutely god-creating levels of magic.  And then, mysteriously, it all drained away some thousand years ago, leaving humanity to forget all about it while the creatures who needed it to live either withered away completely (spirits, gods, etc) or went into hiding and hibernation (also some spirits, dragons, etc).  And then, like a switch being flipped, it all came back at once in 2035, and suddenly humanity had a lot of magic to throw around and no idea what was going on.  That was a few decades ago at the start of the Heartstriker books, which are a couple decades before the DFZ books.

(Incidentally, I really like that choice.  It would have been very easy to write a novel about humanity getting magic back and running around like chickens with our heads cut off, and don’t get me wrong I would have read and adored that book, but setting things a little later means that magic is just Part Of The Deal and it’s so much goddamn cooler.)

Which brings us to the DFZ proper, also known as the Detroit Free Zone.  When magic came back, a lot of shit woke up really fast, chief among them A, dragons, and, B, Spirits of the Land.  Like the Lady of the Great Lakes, Algonquin, who was really, really not having it with every city in a hundred mile radius dumping pollutants into her water by the metric ton.  So she wiped most of the Great Lakes states off the map, and took over the ruins of Detroit to make the Detroit Free Zone, where the only laws worth mentioning are:

No murder

No dragons

No polluting the water

Anything else is pretty much free game.  So you can imagine that the DFZ gets to be a pretty interesting place pretty goddamn fast--the most magical city in the world, where anyone can do anything without fear of the law coming down on them, under the iron hand of a goddess who doesn’t much care for humans.

Anyway, if that sounds cool and you like any of the following, you should actually just trust me and go read these books without bothering with the rest of this post:

Immaculately well-constructed magical worldbuilding--the entire second book of the DFZ trilogy is basically “how to out-litigate a curse and the consequences of doing just that”

Humans Are Special trope, but in the “if you could all just slow down on the innovation we’d all be a lot safer” kind of way, which is a personal favorite

Dragons!  Lots and lots of dragons from all over the world!  This is an absolutely spectacular series for dragons, despite Algonquin’s best efforts!

Sentient cities!  The DFZ takes a while to get moving (magic takes time and big magic takes big time) but once she does, oh boy do I ever love her so goddamn much, get wrekt Algonquin

Magic Is Normal tropes coming out your goddamn ears, mixed with a healthy dose of Technology Is Magic (AIs can project stuff straight into your brain by hooking into your natural magical field and y’all...I’d kill for it...that’s so cool)

Really genuinely likable characters--Julius, Marci, Opal, and Nik are all completely fantastic and I would get drinks with any of them, and also the main romances actually enjoy each others’ company in non-romantic contexts, which is remarkably refreshing

Seers, and the finicky game of making the future jump the way you want it to jump while someone else who can also see the future is trying to make it jump the other way

Doesn’t that sound rad?  Yes, it does, I’m telling you that these books are amazing, the first DFZ book is called Minimum Wage Magic, and the first Heartstriker is called Nice Dragons Finish Last, go forth and read.  Either series is a great starting point, I actually liked reading the Heartstriker books after the DFZ books because I loved seeing Opal meet Julius, Main Character Boy for the Heartstrikers, as a competent and universally respected adult, and then getting insight into his brain which is just that one gif from Community with the pizza and the fire, all the time.

As per usual, more details under the cut.

So, magic comes back and Algonquin wreaks destruction and the DFZ happens.  Smash cut sixty years into the future for the Heartstriker books, starring Julius Heartstriker, the youngest and most regrettably tenderhearted dragon in the massive Heartstriker clan.  Julius’ primary problem in life is that he does not enjoy lying, scheming, manipulating, threatening, murdering, or power tripping, which means that his entire family pretty much takes carte blanche to kick him around like a soccer ball.  This comes to a head when his mother, Bethesda Heartstriker, puts a curse on him so that he can’t access his draconic form and dumps him unceremoniously into the DFZ, where dragons are executed on sight, with strict orders to find something to impress her, or else die quietly out of the way.

Julius, to his credit, throws himself into trying to become a Real Dragon as best he can, but he’s just so goddamn nice, he goes out and saves lives and makes bargains and enforced democracy instead of unilateral dynastic rule and falls in love with a human (hi Marci) and makes a name for himself as “the dragon you go to when all your other options would kill you or laugh in your face.”  It’s absolutely delightful to watch.  He’s doing such a good job.

Basically, the Heartstriker books go like this: Julius doesn’t like the way his world works!  And fuck you for telling him that he needs to be less kind in order to work in the world!  He’s not changing himself, he’s going to change the world instead, and because he’s very, very nice, he’ll even let you live there once he’s done!

Next up, the DFZ books, twenty years later, star Opal Yong-ae, who moved to the DFZ from Korea for reasons that become apparent later but mostly boil down to “freedom.”  Since Julius’ first arrival in the DFZ, a lot’s changed--Algonquin is gone, the Spirit of the DFZ is a sovereign entity who has her own motives and desires, and what was once a no-dragon zone is now a neutral territory governed by the Peacemaker, who you might remember as a twenty-four-year-old baby desperately out of his depth and is now a straight up force to be reckoned with, feared and respected around the world.  (I’m so proud of my son.)

Opal’s problems are that she’s a mage who hits like a tank when she’s desperate but can’t handle even the most basic tasks, and she’s scrambling to pay off a massive debt to her father in order to prove that she should be allowed to remain in the DFZ.  These are both old news.  The dead body she finds in an abandoned apartment that she’s been hired to clean out and get ready for renting, on the other hand, that’s a new, kicky, fresh kind of problem, especially once someone starts shooting at her about it.  

She joins up with another Cleaner named Nikola Kos, who she mostly knows as “that scary guy in black” and is an absolute tank who is also secretly very soft.  Their dynamic is so much fun, very intensely “Small Chaotic Drags Big Exhausted Into Drama” with the added bonus that Nik is a very cool cyborg fighter type.  Opal is so determined that it verges on being completely unhinged and I would read 15 books about her.  Also, the third book is out, so that brutal cliffhanger at the end of Half Price Gods is a problem for Eight Months Ago Me, rather than Present Day You.

[neocity-sarai]

Fight for You

❂ concept: cyberpunk/futuristic au!

❂ pairing: mark lee x reader

❂ alerts: angst, fluff, mentions of blood, violence, death

3 years and 2 months that you’ve lived alone. 3 years and 2 months that you’ve survived without the help of your parents or any friends. Sometime ago, the world felt like it was truly ending. Disease and famine plagued the earth, it seemed as all hope was lost. Megacities were ruined from an onslaught of tsunamis, wildfires, and hurricanes. Your parents shielded you with the comfort of your small apartment, the warmth of their embraces to ease the anxiety. Yet, it wasn’t enough. You remember how your 15 year-old-self watched your mother slowly wither away, the disease could have infected her from anywhere: the grocery store, work, or from your own family. It felt unfair, the way people had to die when they had no choice to make money for the roof over their heads or to put food on the table. Your father held you close, his sobs shaking his entire body at the sight of your mother’s dying heart. Your whole world fell as silent as your mother’s heartline when your father whispered in your ear. He told you he was sorry, how he wished that he could tell you everything was going to be alright. He told you, “I don’t have much time left either.”

You could barely blink. You froze in place, your hands shaking at an uncontrollable rate. You eyed him incredulously, “What are you talking about?”

That night, you came home alone. You knew that the disease made adults more vulnerable yet you couldn’t believe that you had lost both of your parents in one day. All you could do was sit in your living room and cry until you couldn’t breathe. You screamed until your lungs heart, the weight of grief crushing your chest- it suffocated you. All that swirled in your head was memories of your mother cooking dinner while your father chased you around the dining table or the way you’d go to the city to explore, laughing in your family’s van as you drove. It was all too much. What were you going to do? Who would you call for help? Your family didn’t have many relatives in the area after your father decided to take a PR job in New York City. You felt all alone, the gloomy, steely skies looked especially lonely outside of your window. You couldn’t even see the sun. 

You fell asleep on your living room couch, your muscles sore from the unmoving position of your legs and arms. Deciding to switch on the TV, you were sure that the government would send a social worker to come fetch you- that’s what they always said on the news. Surprisingly, headlines read, “New vaccine formulated by pharmaceutical team at New York Institute of Medicine.” Despite the fact being good news, you felt numb. It didn’t matter because you had lost your family. It was too late. Over the next two years, the government issued a world-wide administration of the vaccine, the diseases had almost disappeared entirely. People were able to go back to work, walk their dogs, and dine out with their friends. The UN had stated each nation would work together to rebuild the damage of what was lost, whole cities were torn down to restart again. Technology advanced just as quickly: the old, ruined world becoming a man-made virtual paradise. Engineers and infrastructure developers reached new heights by building jets that flew at 1,840 miles per hour to skyscrapers that seemed to pierce through heaven. Somehow, by mercy, you managed to see the world change. You survived.

Current time

Of course, there wasn’t a real opportunity to go back to school after the plague, it led you to look for other ways to contribute to the work force instead. In the old world, work consisted of becoming a doctor, a lawyer, even a neighborhood bee-keeper ; as a young kid, you never had a clear idea of who or what you wanted to be. When you started to stabilize yourself by taking small part-time jobs that didn’t require a degree or some form of formal education, you slowly started to accumulate savings. After a while, you had been eyeing a virtual game constructed by the Kynigos company that swept the world by storm. It was everywhere on social media, all of the sign boards that lined 2nd avenue to 7th. Almost every family on your block purchased these visionary headsets that allowed you to see life in a kaleidoscopic lense. When you tried yours on for the first time, it was utterly breathtaking. New York city mimicked that of rainbow road in your old mario kart game, the streets glowed hues of bubblegum pinks and electric blues. The skyscrapers were dripping with panels of evergreens and xanthous yellows as the sky sparkled as a net covered it, the tiny strands glittering with violet crystals. You continued to walk down the block, circles glowing over your eyes and floating signboards that advertised expensive desserts bobbed up and down. As you scanned your surroundings, every person on the street or drivers cruising down the road had their headset on. Cars projected virtual screens that were lined with data codes and numbers. Even the foliage on the trees changed a new color every morning and night, the clouds moved by glitching slightly. It was like you could sweep your fingertips across every color you could think of, the streetlamps dripping gold above your head. 

Each time Kynigos uploaded a new software update, people would go ballistic over the installation of game mode. In place of a regular day job, you’d be able to make money by taking investors’ requests and errands. It ran on in-game currency that could be exchanged for real money in which you desperately needed to eat, to live. That’s where you were: you took requests for the smaller investors like fetching their meals or buying their groceries. Moving up, you honed your skills on clearing the game levels, earning access to a database of more promising, richer moguls. They were getting hungry, some of them crossing the law to conduct illegal activities in-game: Kynigos never really enforced the restrictions. No matter how much the government tried to take over the game, it would only gain more and more powerful. They always found their way around it. You had just cleared level 50, your reward was to establish a link with an anonymous client who offered 5 grand in exchange for a person’s identity. Not that you knew who the client or request was, you had become a bounty-hunter chasing for your next bankroll. You didn’t have time to pick and choose. At the corner of your headset screen, a pop-chat window appeared: “Hello. Please refer to me as Mr. C.”

You replied, “Hi. How may I help you?”

“I’m looking for someone who can track down a person that I’ve been trying to find. The request is to confirm their identity and bring them to me. I will raise the reward if need be.”

You continue, “I need that in writing. May I have this person’s file?”

“I will send it over shortly.”

The chat window expands into a link, a typed document of the request along with a signature. You had been cheated out once, you were sure to not let it happen again. When you enlarge the file, it’s a picture of a boy who was much younger than you. He wore a navy blue sweatshirt, his black hair curled on one side of his forehead. His eyes seemed incredibly innocent, his doe irises complimenting the smile that graced his lips ; the sharpness of his cheekbones accentuating his prepubescent face. His name read, “Mark/ Minhyung Lee.” and was last spotted not far from where you lived. You asked, “Mr. C, why are you looking for a kid?”

“I have no obligation to answer that question. Regardless, are you able to do it? If you can’t succeed, I will have to take measures into my own hands.”

With the amount of money that was being offered, you would be set for a while. Taking the request seemed extremely worth it. 

“It’s a deal, Mr. C.”

You pulled up your virtual map with a click of a button, the map expanding into the space of your living room. It showed every alleyway, every nook and cranny in the city. You enlarged the floating map with your fingers, zooming in on a couple blocks away from your apartment. From your room, you grabbed your back-pack and changed into a black body-tight outfit (a skin you won as a reward on level 15), and your hair tied in a loose knot. Dashing out the door, you headed for where this Mark was last seen. You walked around the city, scanning the crowds of people as you walked. The street lamps illuminated the moving sidewalk as people talked into their headset by the cafe windows. Colorful lights blossomed on the tiny windows of the tall buildings. How were you supposed to find such a young kid wandering around by himself? Was Mr. C. his father? Maybe a disgruntled relative? You were unsure. You stopped inside a convenience store, the view of a black-haired boy turned around in one of the aisles. You couldn’t see his face, could that be Mark? The cashier sleepily greeted you, his headset sat crookedly on the rim of his forehead. Making your way to the small boy, you walked in front of him to get a better look- it was not him. He looked up at you confusedly, “hey lady, should I get a chocolate bar or a lollipop?”

Pointing at the chocolate bar you winked, “Chocolate for sure.”

The child walked away from you as he perused through the candy aisle more. You felt a hand grab your wrist from behind to be met with a scruffy man who wore tattered clothes and scratched at his dirtied beard. His eyes bulged with hysteria, “Pretty girl, give me that!”

He pointed at your polished headset, his grimy fingers reaching for it. You stumbled back as your heart beat furiously in your chest, “Sir, I don’t want trouble. Please step back from me.”

The man takes another step towards you instead, his rough hands flying to grip your waist, “Say, what’s your name? Want to come with me?”

You try wrenching out of his grip, you shouted for the cashier’s attention- he’s too busy paying attention to the game to even hear you. The man’s fingers make contact with the skin on your hip which causes you to jolt, you struggle to reach for the knife at the bottom of your backpack.

“Sir, kindly back off!”

The homeless man swivels around, facing a boy about the same age as you. Looking at him, you had not ever witnessed a more attractive boy in a while. His hair was a chestnut color, the crest of it gelled over, his face was slim and defined. Even his lips were the prettiest shade of sakura blossoms, his obsidian eyes stern with fury. He pushed up a pair of version 3 cyber-glasses on the bridge of his nose, “Sir, I said to back off!”

Just like that, the homeless man raised his hands in mock surrender as he scampered out of the convenience store- leaving you staring at the handsome boy in front of you.

You nervously adjust yourself, “Um-I- thank you for that.”

The boy gives you a warm smile, one of his hairs falling onto his forehead, “No need to thank me. That guy was being a total creep. Plus, that cashier should be fired for being distracted.”

You laugh, you catch yourself staring at the abundance of watermelon pops in the boy’s hands. He eyes you and then back to his pops, “Oh, would you like one?”

Stammering over your words you shake your head a bit too wildly, “N-no t-thanks! I-I prefer mango?”

Why did you say mango? You hate mango-flavored things. He gives you a hearty chuckle, “Fair enough, mango’s good too.”

It goes without saying anything, you both pay for the treats as you walk on to the sidewalk, a cold breeze making you shiver. The boy cards his fingers through his hair, the streetlamps casting a golden flow on his highlights, “I guess this is where we part. I hope you don’t run into any more creeps.”

You nod at him, “I sure hope not. By the way, what’s your name?”

There, you feel like you’ve messed up. This stranger saves you from some homeless guy and you ask him for his name, his eyes are widened with surprise. You silently sigh in relief when he breaks into a toothy smile, “Yeah, um, My name’s Jonathan.”

His voice comes out a little hesitant, as if he’s not sure. You eye him, “You sure about that, bud?”

“Of course. I was just deciding whether or not to tell you Jon or Jonathan is all.”

You say, “Well, goodbye Jonathan. Thank you for helping me out today.”

You swerve to walk back down the street in which you came, your headset blinking with the weather forecast in the corner of it. You feel a hand catch your shoulder gently, “Wait-t, d-do y-you think we can exchange handles?”

Turning back to the boy, you certainly weren’t expecting him to say that, “Yeah, sure!”

Together, you calibrate your headsets as a glowing icon appears above his head, “Accept Jonathan as a friend?”

You say, “Accept!”

Jonathan’s name adds to your friends list, not that you had any previous names added anyway. He finishes adding to you as well, your name hot on his tongue as he repeats it daintily. Giving you a final wave, you both go your separate ways. You decide to look for Mark in the morning.

Later that night, you find yourself staring at a message notification from Jonathan. Tapping in the air, you press on it- you bite your lip in anticipation. A bubble appears over his message, “You still up?”

You type on your virtual floating keyboard, “I am, wanna chat?”

Another bubble appears: “proceed with projection communication?”

You look yourself up and down, your outfit only consists of a pair of striped pajamas unlike your black suit earlier. You can’t imagine that Jonathan’s dressed up at this hour. Accepting the bubble, a scan of Jonathan’s virtual body appears in front of you as if he’s sitting in your desk chair. He looks different from earlier, he wears a thin t-shirt that reads ‘Vancouver’, his hair glimmers with wet drops from his shower and he holds an acoustic guitar in his hands. At first he doesn’t realize that you’ve accepted the projection call until he drops his guitar to the ground, fumbling in his chair, “Oh! hi-i, I didn’t see you there for a second..”

You laugh at his silliness, “you were the one who initiated the call in the first place!”

“Still! One second, I need to get something.”

When he finally returns, he holds a bowl of cereal in his hands, spooning sugary flakes into his mouth before toasting the bowl, “Cereal baby!”

“Who eats cereal at this hour?”

“Me- I do!”

You smile at him, leaning back into your pillows, it’s almost too surreal that it feels like Jonathan is staring right back at you from your room. It’s like he’s right there with you. 

You continue, “So, what do you like to do in your free-time?”

He looks up from his bowl, “Hm, I uh- I guess I just listen to music or watching Netflix? Something like that?”

“I see you have a guitar by you, do you play well?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I wouldn’t say too good but I do enjoy playing? I write a bit too.”

“Can you play something for me?”

He gives you a playful smirk before breaking into a high-pitched laugh, “Put me on the spot now aren’t we?”

You reply, “You kind of set yourself up by bringing out a guitar. Of course I was going to ask.”

With a heavy sigh, he mumbles, “This is a song that I wrote when I started living on my own.”

You feel your heart swell at the sight of this stranger whispering soft words of song, the strums of his guitar filling the emptiness of your room. When he’s finished, you give him a standing ovation, “What do you mean not too good? You’ve got talent.”

He rubs his eyes tiredly, “Gotta stay humble, you know?”

Your memory plays back to Jonathan’s words: “I started living on my own.”

You tread into unknown waters, “Listen, let me know if this is too personal but when did you start living alone?”

Visibly, his frame becomes stiffened, his lips press into a thin line, “About three years ago? I think?”

He’s the same as you. You continue, “Do you still keep in touch with your parents?”

A flash of pain coats Jonathan’s face, his teeth sink into his lower lip anxiously, “You know-w, I-I think we should call it a night-t?”

You’ve pushed too far. “Oh, yes- sure. Right, good night.”

Like that, Jonathan’s projection disappears from your desk chair, the call ending with a beep. You throw your headset to your nightstand with a clang, throwing your head into your pillow. You doubt that Jonathan wants to talk to you after pressing into his private matters.

When morning comes, your heart jumps at the notification at the top of your messages bar. You click on it, Jonathan’s audio file plays, “Hey-y, I-I’m reallly sorry for uh- I-I kind of left you hanging last night? Can we meet up and talk? Possibly? Let me know when you get this.”

You respond back to him, “Hey, don’t apologize. It was my fault for pushing you where you weren’t comfortable. I’ll forward my address.”

Within the next hour or so, you find Jonathan standing in your doorway as he raises a bag of mango and watermelon pops from the convenience store in his hand. You usher him in, “You got here quite fast..”

He smiles at you, setting the bag on your table, “I’m pretty speedy. Also, you’ve got a nice pad.”

“Oh- yeah, technically it used to be my parents but they well- they passed away.”

His face turns somber, his features darkening with hurt, “I’m sorry for your loss y/n.”

Trying your best, you muster a small smile at him, “It’s okay. Can I get you anything? Water?”

“I-uh- no, I’m good.”

With a heavy sigh, Jonathan plops himself on your couch, his eyes shifting to the vibrant city view outside, “Anyway, I-I just wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly last night.”

Shaking your head, you answer regretfully, “No, it was completely my fault, I should be sorry.” The features on his face turn sharper. He stiffens again, his fists curl beside him on the couch, “I also haven’t been too honest about myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“My name isn’t Jonathan. That’s just an alias- my real name is Mark. Mark Lee.”

You feel your breath hitch in your throat. The boy that your client is after is sitting on your living room couch. How could you not recognize him? Your headset tab has his file bookmarked- he was a child then. Of course, he’s matured. 

“Why would you lie about your name?”

Jonathan- now, Mark sighs, “Because, I have to. You asked me about my parents? They were murdered by some gang leaders because they owed them money so we could survive the plague. They did what they had to so we could live. They’re still after me.”

You hand flies to your mouth in shock, “Mark, I- I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I-”

Mark places a warm hand on yours, “It’s okay- don’t be sorry y/n. Just don’t tell anyone.”

“Not a word, I swear on it.”

Mark picks himself up to move closer to you, your knees almost touching, “When did you start living alone?”

The memories of you watching the doctors send your parents’ bodies to the morgue surface in your mind. You can’t stop the flood that breaks the dam. Digging your nails into your palm, you sniffle, “My parents passed away from the plague on the same day. Like yours, they had to work and go outside for us to survive. I was on the streets a bit before I could make money myself.”

It’s impossible. You can’t stop the tears that stream on your cheeks. You squeeze your eyes shut, “I miss them so much.”You feel a thumb swipe your tears away. You open your eyes to see a blurry vision of Mark’s concerned face, his fringe swept on one side of his forehead, “I’m here, it’s okay. I miss mine too.”

In a split second, you fall into the crook of Mark’s chest, snuggling into his arms. You hear the slow thrum of his heartbeat, the music that beats with his soul. It’s beautiful, the way his doe eyes gaze down at you and the way it feels when you reach up to sweep the hair out of his eyes, “Thank you, Mark.”

He doesn’t say anything, he continues to rub circles on your back comfortingly as he thumbs your hand in his lap. Afterwards, you and Mark decide to eat dinner with Mark in the city. With Mark beside you, everything seems ten times more vibrant. Musicians play on the streets, their instruments laced with colorful threads (bonus items that tune your instrument automatically). Robotic helpers roll around in the restaurants as they pick up tabs, refill waters, and do little things that could be cumbersome for humans. You and Mark sit on the second floor of your favorite ramen restaurant, one that your parents frequented often. Laughing at the way Mark slurped his noodles made you happier. For some odd reason, Mark reminded you of the comfort that your parents had- a warm glow that always brightened the room. He placed his chicken into your bowl, forcing you to eat his no matter how much you protested. When you were done, Mark led you to the third story of the restaurant, a rooftop garden that overlooked the city. The view was breathtaking: the skyline reflected an ocean of colors onto the water as the Brooklyn bridge allowed flying vehicles to soar across the sky. You both sat on the edge of the building, Mark pulling your body closer to his. He rested his head on your shoulder as he hummed some unrecognizable song, the honking of cars is the only thing that disrupts him. Steadily, you brought a hand to the scar on his cheekbone- causing him to raise his head at you. Mark leaned further into your touch, his hair fluttering in the wind slightly, “Can I um, kiss you?”

Smiling, you crash your lips onto yours, his lips feeling plush and soft at first. You move one hand to entwine Mark’s hairs in between your fingers, causing him to let out a moan. Your kiss grows more passionate as you part your mouth for him to move his tongue, your body temperatures rise- an alert pops on to your headsets. Ignoring it, Mark leans further into your lips while you arch your back on the roof. He pushes you flat against the concrete, his lips detach from yours with a sound. When you look at him, Mark’s half lidded eyes and swollen lips pop from the colorful netted sky that hangs above him, you say, “Wow, you’re good Mark Lee.”

He laughs into your shoulder, his giggle full of mirth. You don’t resist when he presses a kiss to your lips for the second time, you take harder control than he does. You roll onto your side so you can climb on top of him instead. Mark reaches up to place a hair behind your ear before you lean in to press a kiss to his nose. His eyes glimmer with adoration, “y/n, the things you’re doing to me right now-”

Mark starts to press a burning kiss to the hollow of your neck, you pause when a notification flashes on your messages bar. You open it, it’s from Mr. C. It reads, “Y/n. I’m afraid you’re out of time.” You scramble off of Mark, causing him to yelp, “Oh god, y/n, I-I’m so sorry, I- did- I go too far? I shouldn’t have done that- oh my-”

You press your hand to Mark’s lips, “It’s not you. I have to tell you something, it’s-”

“What? What’s wrong?”

You both sit up, “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you earlier I just forgot about it because we were talking and I-I just don’t-”

Mark’s expression turns firm, “What is it?”

“I just passed level 50 in-game. I got a request from a client and he told me he was after you and I took it because I thought I needed the money and now that I know you’re the person he wants, I don’t know what to do-he says we’re out of time!”

Mark looks down, his face morphing into slow pain, “Did you have that request since we met?”

You shout at him, “Yes! But, I was never going to sell you out, I swear! I started to like you and I wouldn’t have done that!”

Marks still casts his eyes down, “Y/n, I have to go right now- I can’t be outside-”

“You’re too late!”

You and Mark swivel your heads to see a skinny man dressed in a plaid suit hop off his emerald hoverboard, a pistol sits in the grip of his hand, “I’ve got you now Mark Lee! And y/n has led me straight to you!”

Mark practically leaps across you, forcing you to move behind him, “Just stay behind me.”

You place your hands on Mark’s shoulders, gripping him tightly. The man- Mr. C. looks hysterical when he flashes Mark a sinister grin, “Your parents still haven’t paid their debt. You’ll serve as compensation.” 

He aims his gold-lined pistol at Mark, cackling before he sends a smoking bullet flying to Mark’s chest without a warning. You scream, Mark falling on his side as he clutches his wound. Mr. C. spits in your direction before zipping off on his hoverboard, leaving you to press your hands to Mark’s body. Already, your hands are covered in crimson blood, you smell the iron scent of it and it makes you sick. You don’t even realize that you’re screaming now, “Hold on! I’m going to get you to a hospital okay? Hold on!”

Mark lets out a weak cough, his eyes failing to stay open. You cradle his head, “Mark? Mark, stay awake! Stay with me, please!”

Once more, he reaches up a bloodied palm to your cheek, your tears falling onto his shirt, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

You whimper, “It’s not okay! Don’t leave me! I’ll be alone again!”

The hot tears blur your vision, it’s getting harder to not collapse. You see Mark smile at you, “you know, you’re the only person that’s made me feel less lonely since my parents died.”

Clutching his hand, you feel the calloused skin along his palm, wanting to savor every bit of him, “Mark, I’ve fallen for you.”

Nodding, “And I, you.”

With the last bit of strength he has, Mark kisses you with scarlet fire before letting out a bone-chilling groan. His lips fall away from yours, his body landing on the roof with a thump. You hold your breath, your head pounds with harsh pain. You can’t believe the sight of Mark’s once musical spirit so bereft of life. Finally, your breath hitches at a notification that appears in your message inbox at the top of your virtual screen, “hello, y/n.”

[jenniferisacommonname]

T-Minus

Is the hotel nice? Well… it’s enough, anyway. There’s no microwave in the room—a major oversight on my part—but there’s one in the lobby I can use, next to an array of snacks that are only moderately overpriced, considering. We’re less than half a mile from our daily destination, and even closer to a CVS that sells the medicine I forgot to pack. On the other hand, that CVS offers no bottled water to accompany the dose: instead, their nearly-barren drinks cooler sports a yellow sign reading, “NEEDS REPAIR DO NOT RESTOCK SELL THROUGH INVENTORY,” even though it’s apparent the task can never be accomplished because some of that inventory has been trapped inside a massive slag of ice flowing off the back wall. It’s clearly been a problem for a while.

But the middle-groundness of the hotel and its environs are actually a perfect fit for this little non-vacation I’m on. You see, my son is attending a three-day program for teens at NASA, and I am his chauffeur. The daddy-daughter bonding is in full swing back in Austin, and there are precisely zero responsibilities hanging over me between the hours of 7:30 am and 4:00 pm. It’s a freedom that, like the hotel, sounds mundane, but suits my current needs better than I could hope for. I haven’t been really alone since… well, it depends on how we’re measuring. In one sense, it’s been a little over a year, since the 2020 Spring Break that never ended. But in another, more philosophical sense, it’s been 15 years as of this morning, when my son’s birthday trip to NASA turns literal for a day.

The fact that we have just three years left with him is not especially disturbing; much moreso is the fact that his little sister has just turned 13, meaning we have only five years left with any children at all. And who, then, will I be? Because while it sucks to admit, I have in many ways forgotten. Faced with three days alone in a mediocre city, I wasn’t bereft of ideas on how to spend my time, but I did struggle to judge their relative value, as a person with long-dormant tastes and opinions. Did I want to go to a museum, or make a few dents in my decade-and-a-half nap deficit, or just stare at the wall and revel in the fucking silence? This past year has been tough, but the truth is that other years have been tougher, and absolutely none of them have been easy since I blindly started this project of creating humans.

To be clear, I don’t regret having kids—or perhaps I do, but I would also regret not having them? I’m generally a person who regrets missing out on any experience, good or bad. But recently, I’ve been replaying an old memory from my wedding day, some 18-ish years ago. In the midst of the festivities, I found myself seated between my new mother-in-law and the mother of the best man, who had known each other for exactly as long as my husband and his friend had. I mentioned my fondness for big families, and my desire to have four children.

“Oh, don’t do that,” my mother-in-law said.

“No, definitely don’t do that,” said the best man’s mother, at almost exactly the same time.

I laughed; they didn’t. “I’m sitting here between two women who both had four children themselves!” I pointed out, still thinking this was one of those Exasperated Chic, wine-o’-clock throw pillow kind of conversations.

“Yes,” they agreed. “That’s right.” Absolute deadpan.

And yet, because I’m me—or because I was who I was then, who may or may not be who I am now, because who even knows—I took it as a sort of challenge, as if they were implying that I wasn’t capable of pulling off the same feat they had. I really, truly, didn’t understand it for the clear warning it was until years later. And the Catch-22 is they couldn’t say it to either of their own daughters, just like my mother couldn’t say it to me, even though I’m confident she’d go back and live her life differently given half a chance. You can’t tell your own kids that having kids is a bad idea. You also can’t tell your nonexistent kids that not having kids is a bad idea. We’re all stuck advising strangers who aren’t inclined to take our word for it.

My gut feeling is that the “having kids” side of things still comes out ahead, because the bulk of the obligation does end eventually, and you get to go back to living only for yourself. Mark one down for having your cake and eating it, too. The question is, are you able to? Do you buy into society’s lie that everything good happens in your twenties and thirties, and spend the rest of your life wallowing in missed opportunities? Or do you perhaps see the myriad self-reinventions the world offers, only to discover that you no longer remember how to be someone at all?

Anyway, I decided not to make a plan, and just see where the three days took me. It’s not who I used to be—childless Jennifer was a planner, through and through—but I found, at least, that I could trust in being satisfied with what I chose, even if it was nothing. It turns out I do still have the ability to be myself, I just can’t predict in advance who that person is going to be. I was open to finding out.

So I went to Bed Bath & Beyond—because I’m a person who is picky about their pillows, but too embarrassed to travel with their own. I’m a person who goes out and solves a problem quickly and efficiently, and who is absolutely not too embarrassed to walk through a hotel lobby carrying what is obviously a just-purchased replacement for their shoddy offerings.

I washed my car at one of those fancy places with the vacuum tubes and interior wipes—because I’m a person who likes things to be clean, and who judges other people when their car floors are filthy even though mine have been for over a decade. I’m a person who prefers to keep things clean in the first place, and resents cleaning up after others so much that I usually just end up leaving it. But I’m also person who doesn’t mind getting down and scrubbing when I know that it will stay clean (for at least two more days, anyway.)

I had a big plate of Tex-Mex. That one wasn’t a revelation, to be honest—if there’s one facet of my personality that has survived parenthood, it’s a willingness to indulge in Tex-Mex at every opportunity. I also ate an entire box of Rice Krispie Treats over the course of the weekend.

I watched a bunch of TV shows and movies that my family would find uninteresting, and when my son got back in the evening, I watched one of them again—because I wanted to, and he didn’t know I’d already watched it just hours earlier.

And, I wrote this. Because thankfully, it turns out I’m still a person who writes for her own fulfillment, not just as a means of escape. And when the real escape comes in a few years, I now know at least a few of the things that will be waiting for me on the other side.

[multifandomfanfiction]

Mimic Chapter 4

TITLE: Mimic Chapter 4 PAIRING: Klaus/OC/Diego RATING: T CHAPTER: 4/? SUMMARY: Cassie is one of the 43 children born on the same day. Her parents hid her growing up, but her life changed when she met Klaus. Klaus gave her the nickname “Mimic’ because of her power to mimic other’s powers. When Reginald Hargreeves dies, what will the Umbrella Academy think of her secret?

Five disappeared.

“Where’d he go?” Luther asked.

“I think I know,” Vanya said.

They followed her and sure enough Five was in the kitchen. They all gathered around to watch Five make a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich.

“What’s the date? The exact date.”

“The 24th,” Vanya told him as he walked over to the table with a loaf of bread.

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.”

“So, are we gonna talk about what just happened?” Luther asked.

Five said nothing.

Luther stood up and said, “It’s been 17 years.”

Five scoffed. “It’s been a lot longer than that.” He jumped through Luther to grab a bag of marshmallows.

“I haven’t missed that.”

“Where’d you go?” Diego asked.

“The future. Its shit, by the way,” Five answered.

“Called it!” Klaus exclaimed from his place on the table.

Five walked over to the fridge and pulled out a jar of peanut butter, before walking back over to the table. “I should’ve listen to the old man. You know, jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” Five looked at Klaus. “Nice dress.”

“Oh, well, danke!” Klaus said, fiddling with the hem.

“Wait, how did you get back?” Vanya asked.

“In the end, I had to project my consciousness forward into a suspended quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time,” Five explained.

“That makes no sense,” Diego told him.

“Well, it would if you were smarter.”

Diego stood up and started to charge at Five when Cassie darted in front of him and put her hands on his chest. She tapped into Luther’s power to hold him back.

“Ah, Cassie. So you’re still hanging around these two dumbasses are you?” Five asked.

Cassie and Five met shortly before he “disappeared”. It wasn’t until she was 15 that she started hanging around the Umbrella Academy more.

Cassie blushed, dropping her hands and stepping back from Diego.

“How long were you there?” Luther asked him.

“Forty-five years. Give or take.”

Both Luther and Diego sat back down.

Cassie stood behind Diego, rubbing his upper back.

“So what are you saying? That you’re 58?”

“No, my consciousness is 58. Apparently my body is 13 again.” Five finished making his sandwich and picked it up.

“Wait, how does that even work?” Vanya asked.

“Delores kept saying the equations were off.” Five shrugged and then took a bite of his sandwich. “Bet she’s laughing now.”

“Delores?”

Five picked up a newspaper, looking at the front page. “Guess I missed the funeral.”

“How’d you know about that?” Luther asked.

“What part of the future do you not understand? Heart failure, huh?”

“Yeah,” Diego said.

“No,” Luther corrected.

“Nice to see nothing’s changed,” Five said leaving the kitchen.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Allison asked him.

“What else is there to say? Circle of life.”

“Well…that was interesting,” Luther remarked.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They all gathered in the courtyard later.

Cassie stood next to Klaus under his clear umbrella with pink trim.

Ben’s statue stood at the end of the courtyard.

It was always odd to see the statue when she could see Ben whenever she wanted to. Since Cassie was so close to Klaus, her power was almost intertwined with his. She didn’t even really have to try anymore, except when she was trying to summon a particular spirit.

Cassie was a comfort for Ben. Klaus’ inclination for getting drunk and high impaired his abilities, but Cassie was always sober. There were many nights when Klaus was passed out that she and Ben would stay up all hours of the night and talk about anything and everything.

“Did something happen?” Grace asked.

“Dad died. Remember?” Allison asked.

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

“Is mom okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, she’s fine,” Diego said as Klaus took out joint and lit it, “She just needs to rest. You know, recharge.”

Pogo joined them. “Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.”

Luther opened the urn and emptied it on the ground.

Klaus flinched when Luther looked at it oddly. Cassie wrapped an arm around Klaus’ waist, rubbing his side.

“Probably would’ve been better with some wind,” Luther said.

“Does anyone wish to speak?” Pogo asked.

No one said anything.

“Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master and my friend, and I shall miss him very much.”

Cassie hated Reginald Hargreeves for what he did to Klaus and Diego, but what Pogo said was very touching.

“He leaves behind a complicated legacy…”

“He was a monster,” Diego interjected.

Klaus laughed, causing Cassie to thump him on the back. Cassie glared at him as Klaus rolled his eyes.

“He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego,” Allison snapped.

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.”

“Would anyone like something to eat?” Grace asked.

“No, it’s okay, Mom,” Vanya told her.

“Oh, okay.”

“Look, you wanna pay your respects? Go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was,” Diego said.

“You should stop talking now,” Luther told him.

“You know, you of all people should be on my side here, Number One.”

Cassie jumped in between the two of them. “Diego, stop it! Walk away!”

“Sweet little Cassandra. Always the peacemaker aren’t you?” Diego shoved Cassie aside, causing her to slip on the wet ground and fall.

Cassie waited for him to apologize or for Klaus to stand up for her, but neither of them did anything.

Vanya helped her up.

“Thanks,” Cassie muttered.

Diego continued to egg Luther on. “After everything he did to you? He had to ship you a million miles away.”

“Diego, stop talking.”

“That’s how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!”

Luther threw the first punch.

Vanya pulled Grace and Cassie back.

“Boys, stop this at once!” Pogo yelled.

“I could rumor them,” Cassie said.

“No, I think it’s best to just let them fight it out,” Vanya told her.

“Come on, big boy!” Diego yelled at Luther. Diego started wailing on Luther.

“Stop it!” Vanya yelled.

“Hit him! Hit him!” Klaus cheered.

“Klaus! Diego! Stop it!” Cassie yelled.

Pogo shook his head and left the courtyard.

Luther finally grabbed Diego by the shirt and held him back.

“Get off me!” Diego yelled, punching Luther in the arm.

“We don’t have time for this,” Five said, going back inside.

“Come on, big boy!” Diego yelled.

Luther threw a punch and Diego dodged it, causing Luther to punch Ben’s statue.

The statue went crashing to the ground, knocking the head off.

Cassie’s heart stopped. “No!” She ran over to the statue. Her hands shook as she tried to pick it up and set it right.

“And there goes Ben’s statue,” Allison said, as Klaus walked over to his panicked girlfriend.

“Cass, Cass, its okay,” Klaus cooed to her. He put his hands on her shoulders.

The other Hargreeves’ were shocked by her outburst, especially Diego. He hadn’t realized she knew Ben that well.

“I’ll have it fixed,” Cassie said, “He’ll have a newer and better one.” Cassie was too in shock to see Ben watching them with a sad expression.

Klaus smiled. “I’m sure Ben would love that. C’mon. Let’s get you inside and dried off.” Klaus helped Cassie up and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Cassie, I…” Diego said.

“Don’t Diego. Just don’t,” she told him.