#at which point when he tries to go to his quarters they each grab an arm and steer him to their own

[lufyuu]

Dragon's Offsprings

Tw/s: voyeurism, double penetrating, rough Zihao, breeding, inserting eggs(?)

Description: a drabble of the freaky Zihao

Pitter patter

The rain seems to never stop. It has been raining for almost 3 days straight. Despite the heavy rain, Liu Zihao would always travel the long way to the courthouse to work. The rain doesn't stop criminals from commiting crimes, it encourages them in a way. Though that doesn't include you who have been in the manor for a long month. You got used to this lifestyle a long time ago. Waking up whenever you want, going to bed whenever you want, having whatever food you wanted. The only restriction is that you are not allowed outside without Zihao being there by your side. It's not too bad, better than being chased all the time anyways.

Today's not too bad, at least so far. You're home alone, the chefs and maids having left as per your request. Despite being home alone, you can't escape, you've tried before and it's really no worth all that work just to be tracked down again in just a mere minute. Liu Zihao always knows where you are. You look at the clock which points at a quarter to 6pm. Usually Zihao's home for dinner around this time. Whatever, probably had more work to do today. You'll just eat dinner by yourself.

The aroma of delicious food floods your nose. Your eyes are drawn to the two plates placed on the table. You take one plate and start munching on food while sitting down. Even if it's a large yet quiet and empty house, you pay no mind to that as you've lived alone for a while before all this luxury. The steal is cooked just to your liking, it's juicy and delicious with the right amount of spices added to make sure it's not too salty yet not bland at all. After chewing on the steak, you take the fork and grab some pasta plates next to the steak. Twisting it and lifting the fork to your lips. It's creamy and flavourful, the saltiness and creamy flavour compliments each other very well. You enjoy the meal to the fullest in silence, enjoying every second.

You throw the empty and dirty plate in the sink, not bothering to wash it. Zihao will deal with it like he always does. No reason to waste your time with that. 'Now what do I do?' , you wonder to yourself while walking up the flight of stairs, heading to your bedroom. Oftentimes, your bed is also Zihao's bed. He loves cuddling up with you and just making sure you're within his grasp. "Agh", you plop face first onto the soft bed. For some reason, the atmosphere is off without Zihao. Usually by this time, he'd already be fucking you dumb until you pass out or get too tired to continue. You wouldnt ever admit it but it became a routine. Your body's gotten used to it and so have you. Because of this, you feel like you need to do something about this itching feeling you have.

"Ah...ngh", you moan, face flushed with a vibrating dildo deep in your hole. Your teeth's biting onto your lifted shirt, your dominant hand pushing and pulling the dildo in and out. "Z-Zihao..mm..!", you unconsciously moan out his name, your other hand now on your dick going up and down to stimulate yourself even more. No matter how much you stimulate yourself, you can't seem to cum. You need something bigger to please you. Usually you'd be ashamed to even think about Zihao let alone his two cocks but right now, as you're trying to chase your climax, it doesn't matter. "More...aagghh", you moan out even louder than before, not noticing the piercing purple eyes staring at your sweaty and horny figure from the top of the stairs.

You close your eyes, imagining it was Zihao inside you right now and not a silicone wannabe. "F-fuckk..!", you almost yell out, getting so close to cumming. When you hear footsteps close to where you are, you immediately freeze and look at who it is. Your ego instantly crushed, the embarrassment getting to you, hard. You reach over for the fluffy blanket only for it to be thrown at the wall and fall onto the floor by a mere gesture of Zihao's fingers. With another snap of his fingers, a comfortable chair appears infront of the bed. He sits with his legs crossed, head leaning on his hand which is cushioned on the chair. "Do continue", his expression remains unchanged, it's a plain expression, neither a smile nor frown, his eyes are relaxed but at the same time, they're demanding you to continue on your little action. Despite this, you remain frozen long enough for him to demand once more, "was I not clear? Continue your little activity, now.", it sends shivers down your spine, as if he's a predator and you're his prey.

Without a way out of this, you spread your legs and continue letting the dildo go in and out of you, each time faster and faster than before. Now with a pair of eyes watching you do this to yourself, it's embarrassing, you feel like crying due to how bad of a fall your ego took. Never in your life did you think you'd be putting on a show for anyone. "Ngh...", you try to cover your own voice, biting your lip to prevent your moans from getting too loud. This doesn't amuse Zihao at all. "Stop biting your lip", his voice alone makes your body shiver in fear. Reluctantly, you stop biting your lip, "a-ahh...aggh..", the pleasure overtaking your thoughts, in the heat of the moment, you blurt out: "Z-Zihao.."

Just one word. One singular word. That was enough for Zihao to widen his eyes and instantly get up, "that's enough.", he looks down on your figure which is laying on the bed, all prepped and ready to take his cocks and maybe something more.

In a blink of an eye, he pushes you to the bedframe as you are now sitting up, your back laying against the bedframe. He takes off his coat and throws it aside, not caring if it got dirty or wrinkled. "My mate can't even stand a few hours without me, how cute", he smiles a bit, blushing while you're up against the bedframe, horny and wanting him to be deep inside you already without so much yapping.

As if reading your mind, he grants you your wish and shoves his two hard cocks in your hole almost immediately after you thought about them. He guides your hands to wrap around his neck. Then, he holds the sides of your hips and begins to pound in and out of you, you cursing everytime it goes in. Thankfully, your hole is already lubricated, giving the cocks an easier time in fucking your hole. You feel so full but usually it takes Zihao a long long time to decide it's finally time to stop. His thrusts are rough, not in the slightest bit gentle. The bulge on your stomach is very much visible, it moves up and down your lower stomach in a fast pace. "Agh..m", he grunts and moans, feeling the tightness of your hole as you clench down, feeling close to cumming. Your moans get progressively louder by the second. Zihao makes sure it does by pounding even harder.

"Cu-cumming..! Aggghh", you moan loudly while cumming, the cum splurting all over your own body while Zihao is still pounding you. He's chasing his own climax. You feel overstimulated as he's pounding so roughly. It's a lot rougher than usual but you barely notice due to your brain being so foggy by this point. "You're ready to take my children, aren't you my dear mate?", he asks but it's more of a rhetorical question. Before you can answer his absurd question, you feel something being pushed into you, something big. Multiple of them. "Z-Zihao..ah, what's tha—aghh", you feel him cumming inside, his cum thicker and much more than usual. You don't notice it but the mark on your lower stomach started glowing for a mere 3 seconds before returning back to its solid purple color.

Zihao pulls out both his cocks yet despite that, your stomach still has a visible bulge. You feel so so full and not just because of his cum. "Zihao, what's inside me..?", you ask him, confused on what he put inside to make you look bloated. "Oh my dear, those are my eggs", your eyes widen immediately and you try to jump up or out the bed but he stops you, "we can't afford you getting hurt when you're carrying our children", he frowns and looks at you as if this is common knowledge. He's ready to take the role of the father of his kids and your one and only husband, but are you?

══════════════════════════════

There you have it freakies, you're now gon' lay eggs/hj

[youngpettyqueen]

theres more than one version of this in my head and I could get into it and I probably will at some point but just know that I think that after getting back from camp 371 Julian doesnt sleep in his own quarters for at least a week

[mrsnancywheeler]

the lakes (2) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: it's supposed to be over, you and Finnick are supposed to spend the rest of your lives helping each other heal. living as peacefully as possible, but the the third quarter quell throws a wrench in your domestic bliss.

previous chapter / next chapter

midnight rain

2.9k words

warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions and allusions to mental illness, an elopement but not officially, terms of endearment, Finnick being cheesy af and also having a savior complex, reader also having a savior complex, allusions to death and violence, the reaping, sickeningly sweet but also heart wrenching things, cheesy writing, UNEDITED, no use of y/n, mild language

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Suddenly the day had arrived, technically you'd let yourself bleed into it. How could you rest when this could be the last time you lay in your soft sheets with him? When you'd never seen the sunrise and set over the glittering waters of District 4? You needed to indulge yourself with the smell of the salt air in the early morning, touch the cold kitchen counters and rest your feet on equally freezing hardwood floors. So you stared through the window to the glistening stars which shined above the ocean water letting the sparkle ingrain itself into the depths of your soul.

“Can we stop pretending to be asleep now?" His voice whispered, hot on your ear like the arm lazily laying across your side.

“Yeah." You allowed yourself to softly smile as you sat up. All of the things you wanted to enjoy you equally needed to be done with him. To walk hand and hand around the sandy beaches, for him to mindlessly tie knots as you searched through the rocks during low tide for the tiny creatures that would appear. “Should we fish for our breakfast?” You playfully rose your eyebrows.

"You hate fishing.” Finnick had a toothy grin, you were humoring him, his passions and he loved that about you, but what that really meant made him resent it.

“Yeah." You shrugged, kissing him sweetly before unwrapping yourself from the blankets every so slowly. This might be the last time you could comfortably do that. “Let's get ready." So the two of you did so in each other's comforting silence, a routine that was so natural. He always took longer to get dressed, so you began with the very last part before exiting the room. Making the bed.

Carefully laying each blanket in what Finnick had long ago deemed to be the correct order and you could feel his eyes on you. He was so particular that usually he would do it himself, but he just stood in the closet door frame staring.

“Staring is rude, where have your manners gone?” You teased as you continued diligently preparing the bed for whenever it may provide its comforts again. When he didn't shoot back a reply right away you turned to look at him.

“Hard to remember when you look so ethereal in the moonlight, angel." Finnick approached, lightly grazing your chin with fingertips. “That pillow-" He pointed at the one clad in its silk pillowcase. “Is mine.” With such a playful and bossy look in his eyes you couldn't help but throw it at him.

“Fine, I didn't want it anyways, but this one is mine.” You grabbed the softest one in the bunch from his side of the bed and dragged it over to you.

"You little minx.” He scoffed, grabbing your arms as you held the pillow. You wrapped your arms tightly around it and he pulled you onto the bed trying to pry it from you as you erupted into laughter. "You end up lying on me anyways, it's my poor head that needs to be protected.” You tried to tear yourself from his arms wrestling against the tight grips of your arms, thrashing across the bed. “Messing up the bed now too." He clicked his tongue condescendingly at you, "At least I was already going to have to remake it.”

You gasped and let go of the pillow to lightly hit his shoulder which he used to successfully retrieve it. " You dick!” He laughed and stood.

"Just go sit by the window and look pretty, my love. It's not your fault you can't get it right.” You rolled your eyes lovingly as he helped you up.

"You're right, it's your fault for being so picky about it.” He hummed in agreement and gave a peck to your lips before gesturing towards the window adjacent to the chair.

“Let me admire you more as I do the work, angel.” So you sat as he went through the steps of his bed making routine. He did it all with a care that cut into your heart. Tenderly observing the precision he had for each act, it was as if he needed the bed to be such a haven to lay in that no imperfection could taint it. “We should get married." Finnick said abruptly after laying the final pillow down.

You were stunned into a stupor, staring back at him as the glow of the moon glittered on the bronze of his skin. “What?"

“Let's go get married." He knelt down in front of you hands on your knees

A shocked laugh left your lips, “Finnick, that's not how that works."

He grinned, “I don't care." His eyes felt like they were etching themselves into your heart. “We don't need some paper to tell the world, let it just be us, and the sand, and the waves, and the mist. And when this is all over we can go do it officially with the big white wedding or whatever else you could want, but right now let's just be one. Have the ocean bind our souls, angel. I wanna be yours forever.”

Desperation, that's what it was. He wanted to be yours so he could know that if he died the sea could tell the tales of your great love, the tides would echo your sweet nothings. But you couldn't find it in you to care about the deeper motivations, it could help heal his soul, help heal yours so you nodded softly and pressed your lips to his.

“Okay." His smile was as bright as the sunlight and picked you up in his arms. You could have fallen asleep in the warmth of his arms as he diligently carried you to the waters near your home. Passionately kissing you as he laid your bare feet on the wet sand. He looked at you expectantly, for what you couldn't tell so you teased him. “What? I know you're impatient, but don't I at least get a ring?"

You stepped away closer to the waters as you scanned the rocks. Each starfish and sea anemone, you'd miss the bliss they brought whenever you were out early enough.

“Here." You nearly jumped when he reached beside you to pick up a piece of washed up seaweed. “You deserve more, when this is over I'll get you the most gorgeous ring to show everyone what you mean to me."

“This is good enough for me, Finnick. I'm happy with this." You tore some of the seaweed off to fashion one for him as well, you envied how delicately his hands worked to make yours.

“You're happy that it's just past twilight and I've carried you to the beach so we can bind our souls together without even bothering to get a marriage license on the day of the reaping? And I couldn't even bother to bring a real ring?" He teased.

"I'm happy to be with you, to love you when it comes down to it, the other stuff doesn't really matter.” You grinned, “Let's just get married."

"I promise that for all of eternity, past when the sun last rises and when it lasts sets. Far beyond where the last star may shed its light on us or the time when the last leaf falls. With no regard for what is to come that I will be one with you. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so that not even death will part our bond and my love.” He delicately slipped the seaweed ring on your freezing finger, kissing your hand as he parted from your fingers.

“I promise that for every drop of water in the ocean, each grain of sand in the earth, each gust of wind, my love will increase boundlessly for you. That we will be one with each other when all thrives through its decay. No tribulation shall part my heart from beating with yours, my tears from falling with yours, nor my lips from syncing with yours. To have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish so not even the hands of death will crack the strength of us as one, as we are one from dawn to dusk.” The breeze and mist blessing you with its droplets made you feel so light as you lay your ring on his finger as well.

You didn't question Finnick as he began to weave the remainder of the seaweed around your connected arms.

“May we be connected through the lakes, the sea, the rivers, the springs, the cricks, the ponds, the mist, and the fog with each creature within to let us be one in the world, what you feel, so shall I, what we need the other will provide, and let our devotion be smiled upon."

He kissed you, his honey sweet lips tinged with the salt of the ocean air and you consumed each other in every sense.

"I love you Finnick, so much so I'll refrain from telling people how sentimental you are."

“Only for you, Mrs. Odair." He kissed you again.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You'd obtained so many hours through the lost sleep to spend forgetting about what the day would inevitably do that the both of you could lose yourselves in being unbearably in love with one another. Neverending promises for the future, cuddling on the couch, dancing in the sand to fill the hours until the elephant in the room had to be acknowledged.

The two of you had wound down to the cushions of your couch to hold one another. The talking had ceased so you could simply listen to his breathing, his soothing heartbeat. Oh, if you could do this forever, to never move.

“We have to leave soon." The croaky way the sentence left your throat instantly wanted to send you into a frenzy of tears.

“What if we don't?" He asks, stroking your cheek.

“They'll kill us."

“They're already doing that."

No, technically if neither of you were picked you could both go home in peace, but as the time between the announcement and now had begun, whispers of rebellion and some type of plan had strengthened. Something Finnick wouldn't give up in fighting for even if he had to volunteer and you wouldn't be left here without him. Even if you did, that meant some other friend would have to go die in your place which would be a death within itself.

You reluctantly sat up and had no trust in your voices stability to repeat the need to go, maybe a death here would be better.

“Angel, you know my plan. I know you're unhappy with it-"

“I'm not unhappy with it, I understand you want to help because you are so caring and kind-"

“You're not selfish for being unhappy with me going back, your feelings aren't selfish." His hands cradled your face, “And that's not what I was saying. I just, please, tell me what you plan to do."

You sighed, “I don't know Finnick. I have no idea."

“Then stay, Mags will volunteer if it's your name and don't volunteer for anyone else. If I win then I can come back to you and we can really be married, legally as well as with the planet." He said eagerly, searching your eyes for affirmation.

"Your plans don't end with one victor coming home, so I can't say that. I want you to come home to me, but I want to be with you through it all, to fight your fights, to stand where you stand, not be left behind. But I don't know what I'm going to do yet."

He exhaled harshly through his nose, “You're going to stay here for me." Finnick stood up and grabbed you both pairs of shoes taking no further comment, but no matter what he insisted you'd swore to nothing of the sort.

Quietly the two of you walked towards the square of District 4, your head laying on the comfort of his shoulder. Each of your arms tucked within the others and rings keeping you both grounded within each other when you eventually had to part to different sides of the stage.

“I love you."

“Don't say that in a tone like you'll never see me again."

“I might not for a while, unless you go as a mentor."

“You don't get to make either of those decisions." You felt like you were being forced to tear him from what he assumed would happen to remind him of your own will and it broke your heart when you saw fear flash in the depths of his sea-green eyes.

“Angel-"

“I love you, Finnick." Your voice was filled with conviction as you kissed him with fervor before walking the opposite direction, trying not to look back as what you were sure was his worried, loving, angry face. Why couldn't you just be the girl who waited for him to come back? Why did you need to fight with him? But your soul begged you to do it, so you listened to the call.

Soon enough your breath was hitched even if you knew Finnick would force the same outcome to happen no matter which name was called from the male tributes. As if you needed any more surprises this year your escort had decided to swap up the gendered order of pulling the names. Proclaiming how entertaining Quarter Quells should be in every aspect. Which was probably the least entertaining thing you'd ever heard.

“Finnick Odair." The sickly sweet voice rang out in the microphone and your heart dropped even if you'd been prepared for him to get himself in the games regardless. Your throat felt tight and your fingernails dug into your palms as he smiled for the cameras watching intently.

“And now, for the girls. All such entertaining victors!” She beamed for the viewers, it disgusted you how happy she was for this.

You could feel your heartbeat ricocheting through your head as the tapping of her heels walked to the bowl of four paper slips. Your eyes gazed over the women besides you. Mags in her solemn sereneness, she deserved to pass surrounded by those she loved in her home, and then poor, shaking Annie who wasn't as good at hiding what you pushed down, the girl labeled as going ‘crazy’ by the Capitol, and Ondine who seemed like she had clocked out of her own brain. She stared forward so numbly it appeared as if she'd resigned herself to her death, an image that would haunt you every hour if she did die.

“Annie Cresta."

Your head looked at her instantly, she'd let out a quick sob as she began walking forward. Each step is unsteady and slow. You shot your head towards Finnick, you shook his head, eyes screaming at you to do nothing. To try to mentor but do nothing more. But Annie’s sniffles brought you back to her, she deserved so much more, you were certain her psyche would break before she'd even reached the interviews. As she stepped to pass by you you couldn't hold the adrenaline in your body back.

“I volunteer as tribute!" You shouted shakily, stepping in front of her to stop her from going further.

“No-" You heard Finnick accidentally slip as he looked at you so despairingly, but it didn't undo what you'd said which you felt more confident in as Annie began crying. “It's okay, I'm not gonna make you do that." You whispered to her and hugged her shaking frame as you felt your own silent tears escaping, trying to guide her back to the comfort of the other women.

“You didn't have to-"

“It's okay." You assured the best you could. Ondine, who you'd rarely spoken with looked at you and nodded, as if that said everything she thought, and it did. Suddenly it was as if the regrets you may have had were gone, this wasn't just about you and Finnick, there was so much more on the line and you couldn't have stayed home to watch anyone else suffer.

The consciousness that you were on camera hit you so you let go of Annie and turned back towards where Finnick stood, damning your heart for caring, for not listening. He tried to keep us appearances for the cameras, but the looks of rage, woe, and despair were evident if one simply looked into the depths of his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched ever so slightly.

“District 4’s tributes for the third Quarter Quell!" The screeching voice announced and you wrapped your hand into the stiffness of Finnick's and dragged them above your heads. Letting your makeshift rings sit front and center would be sure to draw the attention of the Capitol citizens deeply invested in this all. Allowing the tears to bubble at your eyelids, it was already part of the brand you'd created years ago. Finnick’s nose flared as he forced his smile and without goodbyes you were led off the stage towards the train.

You could feel the intensity of his rage radiating off of his aura, not the calming warmth he usually possessed, but you knew you wouldn't take back your actions regardless of who'd been chosen. So you resigned yourself to the harshness that lay behind the train's metal doors.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. there is so much more I have planned for this series and I'm so excited to share it with y'all. if you liked it, feedback is much appreciated, likes, comments, reblogs any of it I'm so, so grateful for. as always, my inbox is open for any and all things or ideas! thank you again so much!

taglist: @imaegonstargaryenswife0 @avoxrising @artsyaquarium @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @secretsicanthideanymore

[socksracoon10]

Is That It?

A/N: AHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER, IVE JUST BEEN SO BUSY OK?!??! IM SO SORRY GUYS I REALLY MEAN IT! But omg im so glad im back to writing and finally done with this draft! Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader

"You think he's ever coming back?" Your friend, Charlotte, questioned you. You were busy scrubbing the floor of the Governor's room with a very thing rag of cloth. You held it up, unfolding it to get a glimpse of all its holes and tears, a predicament to your tireless work. Gazing into one of the holes which led to the view of the sea outside the grand window, you let out a desolate sigh,

"I've lost all hope."

"Such a shame, I really thought he was interested in you." Charlotte huffed out, before sneezing against the dressing table; the dust flying in every direction it could find. You rolled your eyes, returning back to your work. It had been such a long time since you had heard anything about Will Turner, you almost thought you had forgotten his existence. The first few days after he had left was a blow to your guts, but then as time went on, you managed to adapt a new life - one which definitely didn't involve you making frequent pit stops at the blacksmith's workshop.

All you remembered was him hurriedly running about, fighting the incoming pirates. One of them had their hands wrapped around your throat, their eyes burning into your soul as they repeatedly uttered foreign words to your ears. You didn't understand it, you had no need to. All you could think about was finding a way out of the situation you were in; Will also had the same idea, because in a short amount of time, he hopped over to you and crashed a bottle of rum against the pirate's head and then looked back up at you in anger.

"What are you doing here?" He croaked out, grabbing you by your arm before dragging you off.

"I was coming to find you!" You exclaimed, shaking your head, "I didn't know it was going to get this bad out of nowhere! Who even are these people?"

"Pirates, and I don't - well, they took Elizabeth." He grumbled and you sucked your teeth to hide the surge of jealousy coursing through your veins. Yes, they were childhood friends and were very well acquainted with each other, but you had spent more time with Will than anyone else! I mean, who let him into the Governor's quarters to deliver the swords? Who made food for him and left them at his doorstep? You did, of course! But the oaf was always so caught up with his feelings for Elizabeth, you could hardly ever tell if you were just there as his "best friend" or someone to service him.

When he had left without informing you, you felt at first very much betrayed. And then you felt anger course through your veins only to be simmered down with your gut rattling in resentment. You figured you were dead to him, and that him leaving abruptly was a sign that you no longer meant anything to him. You scowled at yourself, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to make the best of the situation at hand. The only thing your mind told you to do was to move on, with or without him. It did not matter anymore.

The Governor had seen promise in you after the disappearance of his daughter and Commodore Norrington was charged with sending you back to England for an education. You were, after all, the same age as Elizabeth and showed "some sign of intelligence" according to the people around you. You held your tongue, head faced downwards because as much as Port Royal was home to you, this opportunity would never cross your path ever again. It would only be wise to employ it and distract yourself from the boredom within the port. Besides, your only friend had left you, so there really was no point in sticking around in this dreary place. You sighed, nodding your head at whatever the old men would instruct you to do, and found yourself aboard a ship, setting sail towards England for a new chapter in your life. ****

"What's going on? What's with the ruckus?" You had asked, emerging from the special quarters on the ship. The weather was monstrous, the thunder booming every 5 seconds as a reminder of the treacherous seas. The waves splashed against the ship, churning it as if it were butter. The first mate on the crew instructed you to return back to your room, but you could barely understand what was going on. Should your return to Port Royal be this miserable? Was this the sea's way of telling you to return to England? After finishing 2 dreadfully long years of education through a prestigious - and prude - tutor, you longed to return to that misshapen cottage you once called home. At the moment, it seemed that your grave would lack the corpse it needed if everyone on board was going to drown. From the fog, your eyes bore into the sight of a mysteriously, large ship. Its flag tethered, its wood withered. As the crew around you began panicking, screaming, and crying for mercy, you stood there in shock. This was a pirate ship.

You remembered Will. He had gone after Elizabeth after she had been abducted by those foul creatures. You wondered what happened to him, wondered if he was still the same sweet Will you had grown up with. As the ship in front of you came to a stop, the planks were drawn out. Ah, now was probably a good time to head back into your quarters.

"Wait, wait, Miss (L/N), you cannot leave us! Where are you going!" A small boy had asked. You pitied him, he was no more than 6 years old. Feeling your heart battle with morality, you caught hold of his arm and dragged him into your quarters. You pushed the bed to its side and hid behind it, closer to the wall with the boy seated on your lap. You brought a hand over his mouth and whispered into his ear,

"Not a word out of you. We do not want to be killed."

That was enough to have him behave. The sounds outside only increased tenfold. You could hear flesh being slain, and bones crushing against metal swords. Gruesome, vile noises. You gagged to yourself, resting your head against the wall as you tried to formulate an escape from all this. There had to be another way. You peered over the side of the bed, noticing a shadow behind the door; it lingered for a few more seconds before a sword came pummeling through. The boy in your arms shrieked in horror, and you clasped his mouth shut as you shrank into the corner of the room. There was a sword tucked into the wooden boards under you, mainly for the ship's captain. He wouldn't be needing it now. You propped yourself with your knees, pulling the board open as the boy snuck his arm in to retrieve the glistening sword for you. When you caught hold of the metal, you merely nodded your head to the boy and then stood up to guard him. The door to the quarters was being ripped down by the pirates outside, and you stepped back, the sword stretched out towards the incoming villains.

"Stand back, foul pirates! You do not want to mess with me!" You bellow, swiping your sword around. The pirates that had finally come into view all snickered under their breath, their gazes dark and unforgiving. You saw one press his foot forward, and you jutted the sword out as a warning. He smiled in response, before they all turned their heads to face the man pushing through them.

"Out of the way, out of the way, move," A voice splintered through, and through the darkness of the storm, you couldn't make his face out exactly. The little boy behind you brought the candle from the wall over to the crowd, and that was when the light illuminated Will's face. Your jaw dropped at first, words disintegrating into the air at the sight of him.

"Will?" Your eyes widened, shoulders sagging just a bit. Will raised an eyebrow, scanning you very carefully before he noticed the locket around your neck. It was an oval shape, crafted by him as a gift for your 12th birthday. His hands gently came to lift it up in the light, and a soft gasp escaped his lips,

"(Y/N), it's you!" He exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace. The sword fell from your hands, clattering onto the ground below as you stood there in shock. You had never thought you'd see him again, and here he was… as a pirate?!? Your blood was boiling, the audacity of him to even hug you when you had spent years worried over him. You shoved him off before slapping him across his face. The crowd of pirates behind him winced in unison, all of them awkwardly looking away.

"I-I never thought that'd happen to me," Will groaned, rubbing his sore cheek. He watched you push past him to the deck outside, the storm still relentlessly pouring down onto the men aboard. You looked so foreign to him, standing there in those fancy nightgowns that he had only ever seen Elizabeth wear. When he had left you that night, he had embarked on a journey that had changed his entire life. He had discovered that his father was a pirate and that he was meant to be among the seas, not toiling away in Port Royal. Elizabeth had managed to find a hold among the seas too, but she declined Will's proposal to her. She told him she had viewed him more as a brother than anything else, and while that did hurt him at first, he slowly came around to understand it.

And then he remembered you, waiting for him at Port Royal. Even with all that had happened, he never wanted to come back because he believed that by showing up unexpectedly, he was only hurting you more. He figured your life as a maid was already bad enough; he was wrong, clearly. You no longer looked like a maid, you looked like the daughter of a prestigious family. He chewed his lip, eyes grazing over your form to understand what this new transformation meant but before he could even ask, he saw Jack Sparrow stumbling towards you. That was more than enough for him to try and save you.

"My lovely lady, what ever brings you-" Jack began, abruptly cut off by Will jumping in,

"Ah, that's enough of that," He glared at Jack, before forcing a smile towards you, "(Y/N), please. I need some time to talk to you. Alone. Privately."

"I could help the mistress dry her clothes," Jack grinned, stepping forward. You caught a glance of Will sucking his teeth in, trying his hardest to maintain his composure. You smirked, remembering the days when you used to tease him for always carrying a wooden gun, pretending to be an officer. He had that same look on his face, that grumpy attitude when someone tried to break up your play time. Your eyes softened, reminiscing the good days. You sorely missed him, that was for sure.

"Well, as grateful as I am that you have offered to be of some assistance to me, pirate," You crinkled your nose, pushing past Jack, "I suppose I could have some pity towards this man and converse with him… of course, if he promises to have the little boy on board with him."

Will's mouth parted slightly, frowning at your words, "I… I'm not… the uh… it doesn't matter with me, I mean I'd keep him…" He paused, momentarily to peer down at the little boy next to you, before looking to Jack, "It's up to him, though. He's the Captain."

"I am! I am!" Jack cheered, clasping his hands together. You crossed your arms, turning to Will,

"You're not even Captain?" You questioned through gritted teeth.

"I… no. Is that… Is that bad?" He shrugged, wincing at the way your shoulders were rising. You merely huffed out in annoyance, grabbing the ends of your dress to stalk off to the opposite side of the deck. Your anger was uncontrollable. He wasn't even Captain? Then what the hell was he doing for so long away from you? An absolute waste of time! You grumbled under your breath, feeling every urge in your body to lash out on him. When you swiftly turned on your heels, you were faced with a very apologetic Will who was trying his best to comfort you,

"Listen, it's not as bad as you-"

"Oh, shut it! I have spent years, years pining for you! I thought you were dead! I thought you had gone off with Elizabeth, or spent the rest of your life stuck on an awful ship! The possibilities, the scenarios I had thought about your future! And, and… and even if you were a pirate, I figured you'd be a Captain with all the skills you have! What even are you? You horrible creature, you vile beast! You tormented me for this long and this is all you could do? How dare you even show your face to me after all you have done!?!" You bellowed, slapping his face. Will stepped backwards, his mind reeling at your words.

"That's it?" Will asked, eyes wide open as he stared at you.

"That's it?" You repeated, chest heaving in shock, "Is that it? Really? That's all you have to say? I just confessed my feelings and that's all you have to say!"

Will stood there, like a sword lodged into a piece of wood. He swallowed, thickly, trying everything that he could to understand what was happening. You had just confessed that you have had feelings for him since you were young, that you were worried sick for him this whole time. He felt like a fool! To think that he had spent ages worshipping Elizabeth when you were right there beside him. He looked down in embarrassment, feeling a bit ashamed at this revelation. You had shoved him to the side, angrily muttering things under your breath as you headed towards the broken quarters.

And Will knew, as he watched you go, that he had to make up for this somehow. He'd start by showing you just how much he had missed you too.

[blacklegsanjiii]

But could you guys imagine Marco meeting the Strawhats for send off in the Oisín!Sanji. Like Ace lives and Ace just deeply needs to be with Luffy after everything so they go to meet with the crew and meet the new members and introduce Marco. Sanji shakes his hand and thanks him for saving his captain and Ace while Ace is pouting at him and arguing. Marco laughs and assures it's nothing but they touch and freeze going wide eyed at each other. Like clearly something is going on and everyone is confused, except Robin.

Sanji says he needs to go get supplies and Marco volunteers to help, Sanji tries to get him to stay and spend time with Ace but Marco basically shoves him off ship and promises they'll be back soon. As they're shopping Marco assures Sanji soulmates can be whatever he wants, platonic, romantic, whatever. Given their age difference it makes sense but Sanji says he just never really thought about who his soulmate would be or if he'd ever meet them, especially given who his dad is, Marco thinks it's Zeff but Sanji thinks Marco knows he's Oisín. Neither of them are correct.

So they spend the trip getting to know each other, telling dumb stories. It takes a good few hours and like Sanji just got back from Momoiro. When they get back Marco is shooed out of the kitchen so Sanji can put stuff away and start cooking and welp. He may be forty five but his soulmate is fucking cute and he's smitten.

He stays for dinner and helps with dishes and Sanji kisses him before he leaves and he's so fucking sold. So fucking sold on this kid. He leaves when they set sail the next morning for fishman island. He keeps an eye on the news and remembers the flaming feathers on Sanji's tricep as he traces the perfect spiral on his thigh. Then Dressrosa happens and he's confused. Even moreso when his last name changes to Vinsmoke which is wild to him. Okay yeah, he's going to Wano fuck that.

He barely makes it and fights Big Mom with a couple supernovas and helps Ace with a few other things and sees Luffy's awakened fruit from after...a series of deaths. He doesn't know where his soulmate is until after it all calms down. After Kaido dies. Marco finds him and Sanji is apologizing to him and Marco just flicks him because Ace, Zoro, and Luffy are in worse condition and Sanji chuckles awkwardly. Marco doesn't pry but is thankful Sanji's not that bad.

Everyone there finds out there soulmates during the course of the parties that happen and Sanji is blushing as Luffy is yelling at Marco he can't take Sanji. Marco promises not to. He leaves to catch a ride from shanks and catch up and tells them he met his soulmate. They congratulate him and then ask who it is and fall silent at the answer. That's their nephew Marco is talking about but he doesn't seem to know that and when Shanks and Marco says Judge was the sperm donor but Zeff raised him. No one corrects him and just wish him luck. Marco thanks them and leaves when he sees his island. The Redhaired Pirates drink to his likely soon death.

When it comes to teaming up to get Teach, Marco joins earlier to have more, non-injured despite the incredibly worrisome super healing his soulmate has. Luffy gives them the captain's quarters to use and they do. They arrive at Karai Bari and Sanji says they need to tone it down, a lot. Oisín!Sanji is not loud, he's more soft and subtle touches like Mihawk would have been with his mom but Marco drapes, grabs his ass, in the kitchen and kisses his head and cheek a lot. Will kiss him a lot too. Marco agrees easily and does lay off for the sake of politics.

At some point a few days into the meetings and preparations. Marco is chatting with Mihawk and catching up because it's been a while during some party the Buggy pirates are throwing and Sanji is out serving drinks or something. The Strawhats are around them because of buggy and crocodile and Zoro is just butting into the conversation asking where Oisín is because Mihawk to give it up at some point to where his son is.

"I thought your son had died." Jinbei says.

"No, no, he's alive." Mihawk assures.

"Interesting." Marco laughs when Sanji makes his fifth pass at handing out drinks, Marco pulls him into his lap because he's kinda buzzed and Sanji hasn't gotten off his feet all day. "Sit, you're making me dizzy."

"Marco, the fuck did I tell you?" Sanji bites as he tries to get up but Marco won't let him.

"Explain." Mihawk says immediately.

"It's not what you think!" Sanji exclaims.

"They're soulmates." Robin says immediately afterwards and Sanji looks at her with both betrayal and horror.

"Your soulmate is my age? Fucking shit, what would your mother think?" Mihawk groans.

"Wait, I thought Zeff was your dad." Marco says.

"You're Oisín? I can't use to get to him!" Zoro yells.

"I thought you knew when we found out at Sabaody." Sanji says to Marco and then looks at Mihawk. "I don't know, she might've liked him." He defends Marco.

"This has to be some sort of penance." Mihawk justifies to himself.

"You're so lucky Pops isn't here to make fun of you." Ace laughs at Marco who is staring directly into the fire in front of him as Sanji lights a cigarette. He must've done it with his foot based on the haki coming off Mihawk.

[ufostaysfalling]

Asking the guards for help on exam studying

Edward ✨

“Of course!” Edward shouted from inside his armor making you jump. You could barely get done asking your favor before he was eagerly agreeing. “I didn’t even finish-“ You started before Edward let out a boastful laugh. His armor reverberating with its force. “No need! I’d be honored to help you out. Just make sure to stay focused on the study guide and not my chiseled features.” He smirked, flipping up his golden visor to reveal his beaming eyes.

Though, midway through he went on an angry rant about how long the flash cards were. “Even the answers are 2 paged essays!” He complained.

Launcelot 🍄

“I’d be delighted!” He said cheerfully, dropping his scepter carelessly and immediately taking the study guide and cards from your hands. “You seem pretty damn excited just to read some questions on something you know nothing about.” You chuckled, leaning on the railing behind him. “No. Just excited to read them to you.” He smiled brightly, even though you couldn’t see, but the warmth in his voice gave away his delight.

Proceeded to struggle to read the cards due to him not being able to wear his glasses under the helmet. “I can read them if yo-“ you started, reaching your hand out to him only to have it slapped away by his metal hand. He turned away and held the card closer to his face. “I-I got it. Just gimme a sec-“.

Alexander 🍔

“-if you could help me study for an upcoming exam??” You asked gently.

…

“Alex?” You tapped his armor making him jump up and hold his green sceptor above his head to strike but soon recognizing his target “Oh! Hey bud-“ he stopped abruptly to release an aggressive yawn “-whats going on?”

“I asked if you could help me study.” You repeated, holding the papers out to him. “Ah! Uh- You sure?” He hesitantly grabbed the papers and scanned over the text. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be sure?” You said while taking a seat on the bridge railing. “Everyone says I’m stupid. You’re better off asking Baj.” He tried to hand the papers back but you pushed them back into his arms. “You’re not stupid. And plus, I’d rather be here with you than with my table partner.”

Both of you took a break midway through to eat some snacks from his suit.

The chocolates were cold and solid and the honeybuns were warm.. Made you wonder if he had designated compartments for certain food.

Zalia 🏆

“You can’t ask anyone else? I’m on duty.” She said coldly, not moving a muscle even when speaking. “Zar, please! I trust you the most.” You pleaded, staring into the black abyss beyond her visor. Little did you know how she was slowly cracking at your puppy eyes. She sighed heavily and told you to come back when she’s off duty.

Later that night, on her way to the knights sleeping quarters, you stopped her just before she could turn the corner. She released a long sigh before closing the door behind of her and following you to the study hall.

Though, very reluctant at first, she was a big help. Super precise and strict about your answers. Yeah, it was hella annoying- but you passed your exam with flying colors.

You baked her cupcakes in baking class to thank herd to which she was once again- VERY RELUCTANT. Even though once she was alone in his room, she melted into her chair after the first bite

Vander🕷️

He stared at the papers for awhile before taking them and reading each question to himself. “Uhm.. is that a yes?” You leaned in closer, trying to peek through is eye covering. His head snapped up, handing the papers back to Y/N. “The answers are A, B, D, A, C, C, D-“

“You’re supposed to read them to me!” You explained, causing him to stop. “Ah. Apologizes for my misunderstanding.” He gently took the guides back and read the questions in his gravely voice. At some points he stopped and stared at the paper for what felt like an hour. “Is everything alright?”

“Your handwriting is very pretty.” He replied blandly before continuing with the questions like nothing.

Oliver 🌸

“-if you could help me out with it?” You asked, holding the papers and cards up into view. You could visibly see Oliver flinch at her request. “Me?” He muttered, pointing to himself with shaking hands. “I’d love to help.. you.. but d-dont you think there are better choices? Like u-uh.. tutors? Or.. Taj?”

You shook your head and smiled brightly “I want your help.”

He quietly hyped himself up as he placed his heart scepter onto the stone rail behind him. “O-Okay then..” Oliver mumbled, hesitantly taking the papers from you.

The study session went great! You learned all you needed and passed the exam perfectly. Besides telling him to speak up every now and then, Oliver was the best tutor you could ask for.

Philip⚔️

Without another word, Philip was already reading each question with a clear voice. It was like being read a bedtime story by a robot. He was so punctuated and effortlessly perfect with everything he did. Edward wishes.

“I’m sorry to say Miss Y/N but..” He gulped “You’re handwriting is difficult to read-“

He spoke as if you were gonna beat him and take his nose. “How? That’s my best work!” You stepped closer to peak at the papers.

“Maybe your just used to reading fine print. My work is authentic.” You crossed your arms and remarked with a smug face. Philip stopped and stared at your face. Playful confidence.

He was also orderly and strict, seeing you be so original made him admire you greatly. “U-Uh ahem. Back to uhm.. this.” He cleared his throat and his mind as he began to read through the papers again.

Hans ⚡️

“No.” Hans said coldly, not bothering to even look at Y/N. “Oh, come on. Nothings happened in weeks! No one would even care if you diverted your attention somewhere else for A FEW MINUTES.” She reasoned, dropping her hip and placing her hand upon it angrily. “I can assure you it’ll be more than ‘a few minutes’. Especially with you.” He insulted. Y/N gasped, gently hitting him over the head with the papers “I’m gonna fail if you dont help me!”.

“That’s my problem how?” Hans groaned, his grip on his sector tightening.

After what felt like an hour of begging, he let out a harsh sigh before snatching the papers. He rushed through each question and told you to quit bothering him. “Thanks, Hans.” You giggled, retreating to your dorm.

“Oh, Hanny~ Whatever shall I do without you~!” Nathaniel sung in his best Y/N impression. “Dont worry, sweetheart, I got this.” Alexander replied in his best Hans voice. The two laughed at Han’s growing anger before Zalia ordered them to stop.

Nathaniel 🧸

“Yes! I mean of course!” Nathaniel chirped. You smiled at this enthusiam and held out the papers for him. Nathaniel then gently pushed your hands back with his free hand “Nononoo please, meet me after school and we can study somewhere quieter.” He insisted. Skeptical, you followed his orders and went off back to the courtyard to finish up the school day. Maybe he was just buying himself time to escape- or replace himself with another student. Nathan wouldn’t do that..

Right?

That same afternoon, you waved a goodbye to Avery as you made your way down the stairs of Royal High. As you got closer to the main entrance you saw Nathaniel waiting causally. Seeing him without his armor was really a treat, especially when his dreamy eyes would be focused on souly you. Relief washed over you to see his cheery smile urging you towards him.

He took you out to drinks at Diamond Beach. His treat, thankfully. The two of you sat facing each other at a bar table and chatted the evening away. In all honesty…

Little studying got done. But having him be so forward and kind was more than enough motivation to pass that test.

Taj 📚

Before you could ever begin talking, Taj placed his sceptor on the ground and held out his hands eagerly for the study guide. You were taken aback by his excitement but you handed him the papers. Taj reader quickly through the words before already having an answer for every single one. “Ok so the variable is a lie on this equation! And to find the true ‘form’ you have to simplify and use the denominator-“ He explained rapidly before noticing your overwhelmed expression.

Taj cleared his throat and took a step back to let you calm down. “Apologizes, dear Y/N, let me try that again.”

For the next hour, he explained each question in great detail and made damn sure you understood every step. Sooner or later, you were passing that class well enough to skip a grade.

Avery 👑

“Morning Y/N! Going out for lunch?” Avery chirped as you approached the entrance. “Nope.” You replied with a turn of the head. “Need something from your car?”

“Noopeee.” You turned your head again, crinkling the paper in your hand gently to give her a slight hint. “Want to study by the dream fountain?”

“Ugh! I’m here for you, Ave!” You broke, holding out the paper. “Me?” She questioned, taking the paper and reading over the print. Her face lit up in realization but then darkened again. “I have this same study guide, Y/N..”

“You have this class? Then you can totally help me out!” You cheered before noticing her pained expression. Oh no..

Both of you spent the night in your dorm trying to figure out that the hell each question means. What does it mean by ‘Ratify the Denominator’?!??!!

Leon 🧿

“So can you help?” You asked. Leon stared at the paper and took a longggggggg sigh. He hesitantly reached out for the paper only to see the subject of the problems. “Oh hell yeah I can help you!” He gasped, immediately dragging you over to the fountain to sit and go over it. Leon wasn’t the brightest but he didn’t shine through on certain topics.

“And that’s how to destroy the maribeth of the grounding rules.” Leon huffed, finally taking a breath from all the talking he’s been doing. “I think I get it now! Thank you so much- Oh! Can you take a look at this for me? Can you help with this aswell?” You pulled another paper from your bag and handing it to his gloved hands.

Leon’s eyes scanned over the words before shoving the sheets back into your arms and scurrying back to his post.

Notes-

Ratify the Denominator is exactly how my teacher sounds to me 💀 I’m not even sure I’m doing math anymore.

[oh-hell-help-me]

Day 12: Regal

The Library incident wasn’t the last time Luigi felt watched, but it was the last time he mentioned it.

For whatever reason, the feeling came at odd hours of the day, always at random, and always when there seemed to be no one else there.

For once, it made having a babysitter easier: if he ever felt too uncomfortable, too anxious, he could simply sit close to the Koopa and not have to worry about explaining himself.

The ease in which Bowser would sometimes pull him closer made Luigi feel floaty and fluttery.

Still, his ‘probation’ had to eventually come to an end, and Bowser had duties that needed privacy. There wasn’t much more of a need to drive the point home (the point being to STAY SAFE).

So, the first day he’s released from Bowser’s surveillance, he heads to the newest industrial Training Facility.

Alone.

Luigi knew, distantly, that it was empirically stupid to do so. However, he also knew that -if there was any chance of observing anything without disturbing anyone, he’d have to go incognito.

Arriving at the facility was easy, as was procuring a Visitor’s ID. It didn’t hurt that the receptionist was actually a familiar old Shy ‘Guy’ named Shyly, who is part of a book club that held daily meetings in his favorite cafe.

After catching up on the newest Murder-Mystery book, he headed towards the Training Area.

It was a sight he took in with excitement -fawning over the new equipment, admiring the way various Koopa Kingdom citizens met each task with gusto, and even analyzing the way the trainers of each station handled those who don’t exactly have opposable thumbs.

He stayed for hours just watching.

Yes, the irony is not lost on him.

…

In hindsight, that was probably what caused things to snowball at the castle.

According to Clawthorne, his disappearance had not been a big concern at first -after all, his visit to the facility was during a break day, and everyone -including Bowser- assumed he simply went to the town square again.

And then everyone realized that his assigned guards were still at the castle.

By then, Bowser was seen to have been dashing through the halls, checking rooms, and loudly (loud enough to be heard across the other side of the castle) calling his name.

(Dagby quietly adds that the king sounded scared -more frantic than he had ever been heard.)

After the first hour, the castle went on a lockdown that had every ambassador and diplomat secluded in their quarters and soldiers patrolling/checking every room inside the castle walls.

The second hour had led to patrols outside the walls, most heading towards the square but with a few checking the town's perimeters for any sign of green.

The third hour had drawn a quiet conclusion that Luigi was nowhere in sight. That, even as a town mob (larger than the one amassed after Hackson) joined in the search for the human, there wasn't a single trace to be found.

So, by the time the fifth hour rolled in, the Koopa King had insisted on joining the search as -Flambo would quote for Luigi's future recklessness- "Of course, no one can find a human who has the brain of a chicken nugget!"

Luigi would have protested this, but...

It also explained why, in a span of seconds, Bowser broke the Facility's door and Luigi's impression of just liking the Koopa's regality.

"WHERE IS HE???"

From his position next to the greenhouse fabrication line, Luigi is understandably spooked into a yelp that immediately grabs the Koopa King's attention.

Luigi would never admit that the about-face of a visibly agitated Bowser had done things. NEVER.

Regardless of what Luigi would have said, or tried to do, Bowser had stomped up to the human fast enough to have on-lookers do spit-takes.

"YOU DIPSHIT! YOU-" He grabs Luigi around the waist with both hands. "YOU UTTER MORON! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?"

Luigi, of course, is lost. "I- I don't-?"

"YEAH, YOU DON'T THINK! IF YOU HAD A THOUGHT IN THAT HEAD OF YOURS, YOU WOULD HAVE STAYED IN THE CASTLE!"

Luigi is frozen in his grip, hands grasping at clawed thumbs as he is pinned by Bowser's gaze.

"But? I was here-?"

"BY YOURSELF!" The Koopa roars and the look in his eyes makes Luigi squirm. "YOU HAVE FOUR GUARDS! FOUR! FOUR TO CALL ON SHOULD YOU NEED HELP!"

Luigi tries to reassure him. "But I was fine-"

"AND YOU WERE FINE AT THE SQUARE BEFORE YOU GOT STABBED, LUIGI! YOU ALMOST DIED!"

The human is at a loss for words. There's... not much to argue against that.

"I CAN'T- I can't-" Bowser seems to be catching his breath, but he didn't seem to be calming down.

"Bowser..." It might be the tight grip on his ribs, but Luigi isn't too sure that it's not from how close the Koopa is -and how his whole face shows fear.

This... isn't right. Bowser never shows fear -not like this.

"I can't lose you."

It's like the air was sucked out of the room, and Luigi could feel his eyes grow hot and stinging.

Bowser shouldn't sound small.

He shouldn't be shaking like this -in a way that is only felt in his grip on the human.

And- and that's his fault, isn't it?

"I-" It's hard to speak, but Luigi will manage. At least for this. "I'm sorry."

The grip on him gentles, but is still firmly clasping him to the Koopa.

"..... Just-" A small squeeze, one that brings Luigi close enough to feel Bowser's heartbeat above the plastron. "Don't do it again."

"Okay. I-" It's hard for Luigi to raise his hands away from that slowing heartbeat, but he manages to cup the bottom of Bowser's jaw and bring their eyes together (and yes, he is trying very hard to not focus on the feeling of those scales, the way the Koopa easily lets himself be guided...). "I promise."

Their faces are so close, and Luigi swears on his mother's apron that Bowser is the one getting closer. It's something he doesn't question -doesn't want to question when the Koopa's eyes hold an emotion that has Luigi's heart racing.

He hears it beat in his ears, getting faster when Bowser's eyes dart lower, and then back to his eyes.

He hears his own breath hitch, distantly, and is very much aware of the rumbling sound coming from Bowser.

He hears... wolf-whistling?

Both the Koopa and human look away from each other, stiffening as they realize they are still in public.

In front of over a hundred-dozen people.

It doesn't take Luigi long to register the context -and their interaction -and -and...

"Oh no...." Luigi tries to curl up into Bowser's hands, but his fingers prevent any curling, never mind a position that would let him be swallowed by the earth.

Bowser snorts. "Maybe this would teach you to not wander off again."

Luigi wants to retort that it very much will if he has to look anyone in the eyes, but...

But.

He looks back up, right up to Bowser's eyes again.

He... doesn't seem to be bothered?

And then the Koopa looks down, giving a soft look -a warm look, one that he had only seen on the faces of couples or-

Oh!

Oh.

[chirp-a-chirp]

Court of Darkness: Starbucks Orders

What Starbucks drinks would the Court of Darkness consorts and main characters order? Find out below! ☕️

…

Guy and Jasper

Guy always gets black coffee, no sugar, no cream. Consumes only premium coffee blends. Grumbles loudly that Jasper’s Avari red coffee is clearly superior.

Baristas ask Jasper for tips and tricks on brewing coffee. Upon hearing this, Lance begrudgingly informs the baristas to be wary of letting him make drinks unsupervised, unless they want additional potions added to them.

Toa and Knight

When drinking in public, Toa orders a black coffee, no cream 5 sugars. If Toa gets the drink delivered to him and he drinks in the privacy of his quarters—Caramel ribbon frappe crunch, extra caramel, extra crunchy toppings, extra whip cream.

Toa frequently orders one cat-shaped cake-pop for Knight. Knight complains each time, lamenting he’s not a child. Toa ignores the complaints, since Knight says them while polishing off the cake-pop.

Lynt and Tino

If ordering alone, Lynt gets a bottle of natural spring mineral water. If Lynt is ordering with Tino…Lynt still reaches for a bottle of water, but after hearing Tino lament over the prince’s lack of desire to consume anything, he’ll grab an iced green tea. Lynt drinks three sips of tea before giving it to Tino.

Regardless of the weather, Tino gets the classic hot chocolate and pours the beverage in a mug passed down from his grandmother.

Fenn and Violet

Fenn has tried EVERY drink at least once. Flirts with baristas shamelessly to get extra shots of vanilla or espresso in his drinks. Is personally responsible for half of the secret drink menu items such as the purple drink, the raspberry cheesecake Frappuccino, the sour patch kids drink, and the apple martini refresher.

Regardless of which drink he orders, Fenn always orders a second drink—a mango dragonfruit refresher. This drink is given to Violet, who often combines the drink with Luxuran blue wine before going out on a date.

Roy, Sherry, and Grayson

Roy has tried every tea drink on the menu, including those on the secret drink menu. He always adds a few Invidian tea leaves to his tea. When Roy doesn’t have tea, he usually orders the pink drink with extra strawberries.

When he goes out with Sherry, Roy smiles indulgently and gets two unicorn Frappuccinos, with extra whip cream and raspberry syrup.

Grayson refuses to imbibe in the unicorn drink, despite Sherry’s pleas. Grayson on a sugar high is nearly as eventful as Grayson imbibing alcohol.

Rio and Thoma

On more than one occasion, Rio has paid for the drink order of the person behind him. Will happily drink anything and often asks the barista for their favorite drink and choose that.

When it’s Fall though, Rio orders only pumpkin spice lattes or Frappuccinos. All hail Rio, the prince of pumpkin spice. Thoma, conversely, DESPISES pumpkin spice, with a passion of a thousand fiery suns. Thoma LOVES Apple crisp Frappuccinos.

Lance

Refuses to contribute money to the soulless corporate machine known as Starbucks. Nope.

Dia, Jay, and Lou

Dia never picks up his orders in person. Jay picks up a very berry hibiscus lemonade on behalf of his young charge and then gets an Earl Grey tea for himself. The pair then split an order of kale and mushroom egg bites. Dia’s mood sours greatly if the egg bites are not available.

The other half of the secret drink menu not made by Fenn was created by Lou. Often, Lou will simply point to random ingredients near the barista and ask if they can be combined.

No Lou, don’t combine espresso and lemonade. Just don’t.

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 7

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 3522

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This chapter switches back and forth on POV's. This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 7

Your POV As you finished out your shift, you noticed that he was still watching you, as well as when his partner left. You didn’t go talk to him, nor did he with you. Something else that relieved you was that there didn’t seem to be any demons in the store anymore, which helped you relax. Sarah bugged you about the date, teasing you a bit. 

When five rolled around, you were feeling slightly excited about your date with this stranger and quickly clocked out, bidding your coworkers farewell for the night. You didn’t even notice the Impala in the parking lot as you headed on your way. During the drive, you went through all sorts of questions you wanted to ask him, including finding out what the hell his name was.

“Shit,” you grumbled as you saw the pile of ashes still on the inside of your property line.

You sighed, parked your truck, and headed into your backyard, grabbing the flathead shovel before going back out front. You dragged the trashcan over and cleaned up most of the ashes. It looked like it had to come from at least three demons, although you weren’t entirely sure.

“At least the warding worked,” you mumbled aloud, feeling rather proud of yourself before you put everything away and headed inside.

It was a quarter to six, and the bar was only about five minutes from your house. You didn’t want to overdo it and dress up too much, so you picked out a simple spaghetti strap, black dress, and a pair of black flats to go with it. Then you pulled on a dark blue flannel, tying it so it looked like a half top, leaving it unbuttoned. You left your hair down. Dinner was leftovers since you’d prepared a week's worth of meals for yourself over the prior weekend you had off—chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the side.

The time ticked by, sometimes slowly, other times quickly, and before you knew it, it was time to head to the bar. You’d decided that you would stick to somewhat safe topics to start with, and depending on how he answered would depend on how deep your questions would venture. You parked in the dirt area of the parking lot, noticing that he hadn’t gotten there yet. Part of you wondered if he’d actually show.

The bar wasn’t busy since it was the middle of the week, and you found several empty seats near the far side of the bar. When one of the bartenders came over and asked what you wanted, you asked for a double shot of whiskey, at least to start with. She smiled and poured your drink. At first, you just sipped it, but when seven-thirty rolled around, you downed the shot that was left. 

“Jerk,” you mumbled, looking away from the door.

“What’s the matter?” the bartender asked you.

“Got stood up,” you sighed, “Could I get a beer?” 

“Sorry to hear about you getting stood up. I’ll have that beer back in a flash,” she replied, giving you a compassionate smile.

Your mind wandered, mostly about him. What was the point of him asking you if he wasn’t even going to show, you thought to yourself as the bartender set the beer down in front of you. You popped the top and began sipping it. It wasn’t like you lived far away; there was usually very little traffic late at night. Halfway through your beer, you heard the door open again and glanced over, raising an eyebrow. A soft scoff left your lips as you shook your head; he showed up.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

He’d spend the last half hour just sitting in the driver’s seat in the parking lot. Her truck was there. He wasn’t feeling all those things he had earlier when he was near her at the store; he just wasn’t entirely sure how to go about getting her to talk. It was clear she knew things as she’d warded her property. He just wasn’t sure how much she knew.

Dean finally took a deep breath and made his way inside, a quarter past seven. He looked around the bar, two pool tables to his left and the bar to his right, and there were tables and booth seats scattered on the other half of the bar. He saw her sitting alone and nursing a beer at the far side of the bar. One more deep breath, and he walked over to her.

“Still up for some company? And, I’m sorry I was late, forgot how long of a drive it was from town,” he told her, only half lying.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I guess so, since you’re here,” she replied without looking up at him.

He sighed and sat next to her on a barstool, “I really am sorry,” he told her again, meaning it.

The bartender came over, and he ordered a beer, which she retrieved, and he popped the top, taking a sip.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You weren’t entirely sure what to believe, but for now, you decided to give him at least the benefit of the doubt, “How about at least telling me your name,” you suggested, looking over at him.

He smirked a little, “I’m Dean. Thanks for staying,” he replied, sipping his beer.

He was in regular street clothes, jeans, a t-shirt, a flannel, and a jacket, and you were thankful you’d chosen what you had, “Nice to meet you, Dean. Are you allowed to tell me about this stakeout that involves my work?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Well, I could tell you, but I might get in trouble if I do,” he replied, and you could have sworn he was flirting, but it was hard to tell. The man seemed just to be naturally charming.

You smirked, “You look like the kind of guy who’s used to getting into trouble,” you replied, deciding just to be yourself and be playful, even teasing him a little. You still needed information, after all.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

He wasn’t feeling those same things he had when he’d been around her at the store, but he still found her more interesting than he should have. Dean was grateful she’d decided to stay but knew he’d have to keep his wits about him. She was quick with her comebacks, something he wasn’t used to from women.

“It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he chuckled.

Dean watched her, noticing how relaxed she looked as she leaned a bit on the counter, her hand on her beer, sipping it from time to time. 

She glared at him playfully, “You like being vague, don’t you?” she asked, although it was rhetorical, and he knew it.

“Looks like you can read me like an open book, Sweetheart,” he replied, shaking his head and still smiling before he sipped his beer.

“I’m working on it,” she mused, “So, what can you tell me?”

He’d prepared for this, figuring she was going to ask, “There’s a group of people in the area that are trafficking people, mostly women. It’s happened before, but we still haven’t gotten the ringleader. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in the area,” he explained to her, hoping he’d buy his story.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You didn’t watch the news. There were too many bad things going on in the world as it was, and you didn’t want to know just how bad it really was out there. You didn’t live terribly far from the border, so his story at least made sense to you. You’d know people when you were a teenager who had run drugs over the border for the cartels, even if you had never been involved with any of it.

It still seemed as though he was hiding something; you noticed it in his eyes, “How many times have you been to this area?” you asked, seeing just how far you could push.

You noticed how he sipped his beer like he was debating an answer, “More times than I’d like to admit in the last five years,” he replied, sighing.

That sparked something in you, but you managed to hide it from your expression, “What brought you here the first time?” you asked curiously.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

He had to really think about how to answer her. It wasn’t like he could tell her it was because of the hardest monsoon the place had seen, when the F0 had touched down in the area due to demonic activity. Dean took a sip of his beer.

“That was when the trafficking started, and my partner and I got assigned to the case,” he told her. It was mostly true.

“Huh,” she replied, then looked away from him and sipped her beer.

He tried to read her, but she wasn’t easy to read. It was like a challenge to him, and he had already decided he was going to face it head-on, “You seem surprised,” he mused, putting on his signature smirk.

“Kind of. That’s when I got into a car accident. There was a really bad storm the next day. At least that’s what my family told me after I woke up from the coma I was in,” she replied, seeming somewhat casual, but at the same time, it almost sounded like she was digging for information out of him.

“I’m sorry to hear about that. Was it a bad one?” he asked, wondering just where she was headed with things and how much she might divulge.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You glanced over at him, tilting your head a bit, “Figured you had read up on me. You’ve been watching me at work more than my other co-workers. It’s kind of obvious that you and your partner have been keeping an eye on me,” you told him, plainly, but confidently.

He may have asked you out for a drink, but how he and his partner had been watching you at work had been enough to know that they knew something. You were also second-guessing whether or not he was a real FBI agent as well. Since he’d shown up late, it was time to get to the point of things carefully.

Dean didn’t seem to answer you right away, although he hadn’t stopped looking at you, even when he sipped his beer, “Alright. Yeah. I read your file, but it only contains the technical details.”

You watched him, almost studied him as he answered. He knew more than he was letting on, and you knew it, “I honestly don’t remember it. I blacked out the moment my car plowed into the back of that rig. Then, I woke up in a hospital bed two weeks later,” you explained, then looked away from him.

A quiet sigh left your lips as you looked down at the counter, “I should have died in that wreck from what I was told.”

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

Dean watched how she moved slightly, where her eyes shifted. He was pretty sure she knew she was at least different than a normal human, “I’m glad you’re okay. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to have drinks with you tonight,” he told her with a slight smirk.

She turned to face him, tilting her head just a bit, “So, why are you and your partner watching me, in particular? I know that’s why you asked me out for drinks,” she asked, blunter than he’d been prepared for.

He couldn’t hide all the surprise of her bluntness. He even chuckled at her bluntness, shaking his head slightly. However, Dean had prepared for this question as well.

“Well, Sweetheart, you’re the only connection to all the places that have been hit,” he told her, finishing his beer.

It was her turn to be surprised. Dean had spent his whole life learning how to read people, and it was clear to him that she was attempting to hide something. He just wasn’t sure how far he could push her or if she’d even knew what she was.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You momentarily froze as your chest tightened and your breathing became shallow. That was the one thing you’d hoped he wouldn’t put together. Dean was clearly more intelligent than he had been letting on.

“So you think they’re after me,” you sighed, signaling the bartender, “I’ll have that whiskey now.”

She nodded at you, then got your drink. You took a sip. Dean was clearly waiting till the bartender left before speaking again.

“You fit the profile, physically. My partner and I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he finally answered, seeming concerned. “When I asked you about the sulfur smell that first day, I questioned you. You’ve smelled it before, haven’t you?” he pushed, but you could tell he was trying to get you to talk more.

You sighed, taking another sip of your whiskey, “Yeah,” you paused, staring more at the bottles on the shelves behind the bar. For a moment, you pursed your lips, debating your following statement, “You’re not FBI, are you? Just like you aren’t asking me about any crime ring. You’re asking me about demons.” 

You could see his reaction from your peripheral, causing a slight smirk to tug at the corner of your lips. That was all you needed as an answer to your question.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

Dean barely managed not to choke on his beer with your question. For a moment, all he could do was look at you. He’d prepared for all kinds of ways tonight would go, but your bluntness and knack for reading him was still throwing him off.

He chuckled slightly, shaking his head, deciding just to be honest, “You’re right, I’m not FBI. Yes, I was asking you about demons. I was honest, though. I do believe they’re after you.”

She sighed, sipping her whiskey again, and he tilted his head. He still wondered if she knew what she was. The fact that she was able to keep her expression somewhat void of emotions was something that intrigued him, as it made it hard for him to read her.

“My brother and I want to keep you safe, but we can’t do that if you don’t open up to me,” he told her, trying to reassure her, even if he was a stranger to her.

“Brother, huh?” she chuckled, “I know you’re not a demon. I also know if I can trust you.”

“Yeah, he’s my younger brother. We do this sort of thing a lot. It’s kind of the family business,” he replied, sipping his beer.

That was when he explained everything to her: how he’d been raised in the life, the things they hunted, and the things they’d investigated over the last five years when it came to this particular case. Dean left out that he knew what she was, though. He hoped she’d open up a little more now that he’d been more upfront with her.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You took a deep breath, as that was a lot to take in. You’d never met nor heard of a hunter before, but it made sense. Monsters did need to be handled by something. The bartender refilled your whiskey, seeing your glass empty. 

“I couldn’t imagine living like that,” you said, almost feeling bad about how the brothers were raised.

“Well, someone’s gotta step up, and we like being able to save people,” he replied, giving you a softer smile than you’d seen all night.

For a bit, your mind wandered. Something inside you told you he was being honest and that you could trust him. It was a new feeling, as it had never happened with a stranger before.

You shifted on your barstool to face him again, studying his expression, “I know I’m different, at least since my accident. My mom said I was a fairy, but after all the research I did, it just didn’t fit.”

The way he seemed to consider your words, pursing his lips briefly, made you tilt your head a bit. He did know something, far more than what he’d already said.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

Again, he had to take a moment, although he was thankful she’d finally admitted what she knew. The part that puzzled him was what she said about her mom, which only made more questions in his mind.

“You’re not a fairy. You’re what's called a Pari. It’s similar to a fairy but more powerful. How does your mom know about that stuff? If it’s not too personal to ask,” he told her, wanting to keep her talking.

The bartender brought another beer for Dean, taking his empty before walking away.

He watched her tilt her head, a somewhat puzzled look on her face, “My mom said it was in my bloodline. She told me she dreams of another place where there are more like me. I started dreaming of it too, after my accident,” she explained.

“Well, now, that wasn’t quite what I was expecting,” he said, still a bit surprised, “Pari are from a different dimension; at least, that’s what we could find in the lore. Some people carry a gene that gets turned on when they are in a near-death experience. If my brother and I were back at our place, I’m sure there’s better information there.”

----------------------------------------- Your POV

Sarah was going to have a field day with how this ‘date’ was going, you thought to yourself. You thought about what he said: Pari, a different dimension, carrying a gene. What were you even supposed to do with that information, and how were you supposed to keep yourself safe? Too many thoughts and not enough time to process it all.

“So, what happens now? I mean… It’s clear that demons are after me because of what I am. But I mean…” you trailed off and sighed, looking down at your drink.

“You could come with me and my brother. We can take you somewhere safe where they won’t be able to find you,” he told you, seeming genuine.

“For how long?” you asked, trying not to sound sad at the thought of having to hide for the rest of your life.

“At least until we can figure out what the demons want with you,” he explained.

The two of you sat silently for a few minutes while you sipped your whiskey, carefully considering what he suggested. Your friends and family, as did your home and job, wandered into your thoughts. 

“What about my job? I can’t just walk away,” you asked, still not looking over at him.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

She looked so sad to him at that moment, “My brother and I can take care of that part. Can you be ready to go in the morning?” he asked, hopeful. 

At least this way, she’d be in the bunker where they could keep an eye on her. Plus, they would have the books and research at their fingertips to figure out more about her. Now, all he had to do was get her to agree, and then he had to break the news to his brother.

There was another long silence, but he let it linger, letting her think and process it all. He watched her sip her whiskey as he sipped his beer.

“Will you be picking me up in the morning?” she asked, somewhat quietly, and he could tell she was sad.

Dean sighed, “Yeah. I can be there around nine. It will give you time to get your things together and wake up. I’ll let my brother know when I head back to the motel tonight.”

“Then I’ll see you in the morning,” she told him, finishing her drink.

When she stood and reached for her wallet, he stopped her, “I did still ask you out tonight. I got the bill.”

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You looked up at him, his hand on your arm. Even with the strength you felt from him, his touch was soft, almost gentle. It surprised you.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied, a bit unsure of how you felt toward him at the moment.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he told you, giving you a friendly smile.

As you walked away, you only glanced back once, over your shoulder at him. Then, you headed home. Your thoughts raced, but your movements were slow once you got inside your place. There was a duffle bag in the bottom of your closet, which you pulled out and tossed on your bed. Since he hadn’t given you a time frame, you packed a decent amount of clothes, your toiletries, and some personal effects that were dear to your heart.

All in all, you had your duffle bag, a crate with a mix of toiletries and personal items, your backpack with your journal, coloring items, and more miscellaneous needs and keepsakes. Lastly was your purse, which you hardly ever used. You put your wallet, phone charger, pocket knife, and other little tidbits in. 

You sighed once it was all stacked neatly by your front door and then changed into something comfortable for the night. So far, you haven’t messaged anyone about what was going on. You weren’t sure if it was even a good idea to say anything. You weren’t even in the mood to read Tumblr that night.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

[snorky]

Desert Drifting

Hey y’all! This piece is more experimental in my opinion since I tried to merge this story with an existing fictional universe, so I apologize if the quality isn’t the best. The universe is the Danger Days/True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys Universe, written by Gerard Way and Shaun Simon, which is a lovely comic series you should check out. All credits go to those folks for anything relating to that universe in this story! Flashbacks are in italics. I hope you all enjoy this, and take care of yourself!

Pairing: Vince Dunn x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of sci-fi weapons, Some violence + hurt (slight blood); (Let me know if I need to add anything)

—

—

“Dunn! Slow down!”

He drifted his old Mustang Fastback down the desert road, kicking up a cloud of dirt in the process.

“No way, darlin’!” He laughed maniacally. “You’ll live!”

The sky had an array of golden and burnt orange hues as an aftermath of the Helium Wars. Radiation occasionally fizzed from the carcasses of poor animals that didn’t escape the firefight in time.

His curly hair seemed to glow in the sun, his face darkly handsome when the shadows of his face were apparent. A soft smile was on his face as he maneuvered the car in sharp curves and turns at high speeds, quite the opposite of their scared expression.

Vince, or his new nickname he took on after he fled from Battery City, Dunn, lived in Zone 6, far enough that he didn’t have to worry about getting caught by Draculoids sent out by Better Living Industries, but not far enough where he could keep his guard down.

“Dunn! We’ve got to get back before sundown, the Dracs are probably on our way from Route Guano!” They stuck their head out of the car window frantically, checking for any Dracs out on the horizon.

“Just one more loop, promise,” Dunn spoke softly, catching their attention.

They sighed, “Fine, but if you get caught in a fight, I’m not helping you tonight,”

Dunn looked over at them, smirking. He knew well that they would help him anyway. After all, they’ve known each other for the past two years out in the Zones.

Grabbing the steering wheel, he quickly turned his car around and then switched into the highest gear possible. The engine seemed to roar around the both of them, like a beast trying to fight for its life. As he drifted his car to go back to their quarters, they spotted a couple of Dracs on motorcycles heading their way.

“Dang it, grab your blaster!” They quickly pulled out theirs and leaned out the window to aim at them.

Whips of rays came hurling towards them, causing them to duck back into the car for cover. Dunn grabbed the steering wheel with one hand, while the other held a ray gun pointed at the Draculoids.

After firing a couple of shots, hitting one of the five Draculoids, he pulled over on the side and got out of the car quickly. They followed suit, staying low to the ground to avoid getting hit.

Looking over the top of Dunn’s Mustang, they could see the Dracs aiming for them rapidly, firing one shot after another without remorse. His car was getting pelted with each laser that struck it, dents and burns evident.

Each close call came buzzing past them, one after another, the zap of the lasers burning the air. They could hear each missed shot hitting the ground, displacing the sand and gravel right next to them.

Quickly standing up, they fired a few shots at the Dracs, some completely missing and some hitting them directly. Dunn did the same, with a few of his shots grazing a Drac’s shoulder or leg.

As he stood up, trying to fire the final shot at the one remaining Drac, he was hit in the calf, the whir of the laser sounding past him. He dropped to the ground in pain, taking his bandana to wrap around his leg for a temporary solution.

“Damn it!” he hissed.

They quickly looked over at him, and then turned their head back towards the Drac, pulling the trigger to seal the fate of it. When the final Drac dropped to the ground, they quickly ran over to where Dunn was and checked on him.

“Dunn! Get in the car!” They slung his arm over their shoulder, helping him to get back into the car. When he tried to get into the driver’s side, they stopped him. “I’m driving, get in the backseat.”

He hesitantly limped towards the rear of his car and opened the door. Sliding into the backseat, he rested his injured leg onto his jacket that he set down so as to not get blood on the interior of his car.

They turned on the ignition and quickly shifted gears to get back to their quarters before more Dracs could arrive. The sunset seemed to fade quicker as the night sky began to loom over in the opposite direction. The Mustang sped down the road, wind rushing past them through the open windows. 

Just in a few minutes, they arrived back at their quarters. It was an abandoned convenience store, considering that after the wars, no one needed groceries in this area, besides those who decided to move into the desert. Dunn’s group that formed out in the Zones spruced up the run-down place well with some trinkets and furnishings they found on the side of the road.

“Lars! Cann! We need backup!” They shouted as they got out of the car.

The two men came rushing out of the front entrance, running towards the car that was haphazardly parked in front of the building. They opened the back door and helped Dunn out of the car, leading him back into the building.

“Sit down right here,” they said as they set Dunn down on a booth chair. “I’m going to get a med kit, so don’t you think about getting up,”

“Ouch, grouchy, huh?” He chuckled as they walked away.

“I swear Dunn—” 

“Hey, hey,” he laughed. “Can’t an injured man joke a bit?”

They shouted from the back storage area, “No.”

“Take it easy on Dunn,” Lars sighed. “The pain hasn’t settled yet,”

They came back out from the storage area carrying the medical supplies needed to help Dunn with his wounds. 

“Do we need any more supplies like aid kits or general things?” Cann asked.

“Yeah we do,” they sighed.

As they knelt in front of him to be level with his leg, they tapped on his knee to get his attention. “Take your pants off,”

He looked at them in false offense, “My, my—” he placed his hand on his chest. “Not even going to take me out for dinner first?”

“No, Dunn.” They looked at him with a stern face. “So that I can stop you from getting an infection.”

He sighed, sliding his pants down his leg, careful not to further injure his wound. They inspected the area of injury, and luckily for Dunn, the wound wasn’t too serious.

“Okay, good news,” They said looking up at him, making eye contact, “you aren’t bleeding out severely! The heat of the laser essentially cauterized your wound as it made contact,” they explained. “Bad news, I’m still going to need to clean the wound and surrounding areas to prevent an infection.”

His smile disappeared as fast as it came. “Oh,”

“And you probably shouldn’t go on supply runs or drive for the next few days,” they added.

His shocked expression turned into sadness, “But, what am I supposed to do for the next few days? Nap? Stare at the empty desert?” he listed.

“Oh, I forgot to mention that you can’t go and fight either, that’s a high-risk activity.” They inspected his wound, still slightly bloody.

Taking an alcohol pad, they started to clean the surrounding area of the wound as Dunn started to complain and groan. “Booooring—ah!” He hissed as the alcohol grazed the wound.

“Doctor’s orders, Dunn,”

“You’re not a doctor,”

They looked up at him, a cocky smirk drawn on his face. “Neither are you,” they shrugged. When they finished cleaning and bandaging Dunn, they got up and walked to their bunk, which was just a mattress on the ground behind the counter.

“Going to sleep already?” he loudly spoke as they walked.

“Yeah, we need to go on a supply run tomorrow since we are going to be out of food here.” They turned around to look at him. “And by ‘we need to go on a supply run’ I mean I need to.”

He frowned, “You got my hopes up, darling.”

“Deal with it.”

Silence hung in the air between the both of them, with Dunn sitting in the booth all by himself, and them standing, leaning against the counter. He looked at them with the saddest eyes he could try to make, in an attempt to make them feel guilty.

“Okay you can come along but I’m driving and you are going to be the passenger princess,” they sighed caving in, resting their head in their hand.

“You’re the best.” He grinned. As he tried to get up, he limped slightly as he tried to walk to his bunk.

“Dunn—” They quickly walked over to him to help him walk.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” He chuckled as he tried to reassure them.

They scoffed. “Like hell you are,” 

He hesitantly put his arm over their shoulder, allowing them to help him walk to his bunk. The night was settling down and it remained quiet outside. Once Dunn was sitting on his bed, they got up and walked to their own bunk.

He watched them as they were walking, and spoke out, “Rest well, okay?”

Turning around, they looked at Dunn, looking back at them, “You too,”

The next morning, Lars and Cann went out on a supply run, leaving a note on the counter for Dunn and them to find. They found it before he did and disappointment filled them slightly.

“Damn, should’ve let them known,” they sighed.

Dunn peeked out from the corner of his bunk, “Known what?”

They jumped at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to be up at this time of morning, “Dunn, what the hell—”

“I’m hungry,” 

“Well yeah, that’s why the other two are on a supply run at the moment.”

He grumbled like a moody teenager, walking out the front door.

“Hey!” They whistled at him. “You’re injured—”

“I’m not going on a drive or anything! ‘Doctor’s orders!’” He mockingly said.

They followed after him, in case of an emergency where Dunn couldn’t defend himself. He well could, but his injury hindered him slightly. He was strong, quick-witted, and could fight a couple of Dracs on his own pretty well.

As they stepped outside, the hot desert air mixed with the radiation became slightly unbearable, their sweat sticking to their skin and clothes.

“Dunn, it is hell out here what are you doing?” They looked around, trying to spot where he was. 

He stood in front of his Mustang in a white tank top covered in car oil and dirt, shirt discarded somewhere nearby. The hood of the car was propped up, and it was apparent that he was trying to work on something within his car.

“Car’s acting up, sounded a little off last night when you drove me back.” He looked up at them as if they were the cause to blame.

They stuck their hands up beside their head as if to plead innocence. “Quit lookin’ at me like that, for all I know it could’ve been the fact that some blasts smoked your car,”

Dunn looked up from under the hood of his car, his sweat making his hair stick to his forehead slightly, “That’s not how cars work,” he chuckled.

“Your car is from like what, 1967?”

“1967, but with maintenance and repairs to keep it running smoothly.”

“High maintenance,” they added. “Last time your car completely broke down was a couple of days ago near Zone 4.”

“And so did you, you’re pretty high maintenance,” he laughed.

They rolled their eyes at him and stood against the wall, watching him continue to work on his car. Dunn stood there, the sun gleaming on his skin, muscles flexing as he worked under the hood of his car.

“What’cha starin’ at?” he said teasingly.

“Making sure you don’t injure yourself again.”

“You sure that’s not just an excuse to look at me in a tank, darling?” He winked.

They groaned in annoyance while Dunn just laughed at them. “Be grateful I haven’t tried to beat some sense into you,”

“You wouldn’t do it anyway, I’m too precious to you.” He was right, and both of them knew it.

He continued to work on the car as they talked mindlessly about whatever was on their mind. Topics ranging from random anecdotes from the Zones, campfire stories and legends, to more serious things, the ‘what ifs’ of their lives.

“Remember that time you decided it would be funny to try and fight Larsy while we were out camping?

“Pfft—” He wiped his hand on a rag. “No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied. “But I do remember that time where you tried riding Cann’s motorbike and fell,”

They cringed as they thought back about it. As they turned the motorbike, their center of balance was thrown off and they ended up on the ground with some scrapes on their hips, dust and dirt covering their clothes. Their body ended up being slightly bruised at the area of collision with the ground and they were sore for the next few days.

“Jeez, that was terrible,” they laughed awkwardly. “But I’m better at riding now.”

“Yeah, but can you drag race?” Dunn asked quizzically.

“Yeah, of course.” They kicked their foot into the ground idly, bringing up dust. “How else did I get the fifty-dollars for us a few months ago?”

“I don’t know,” he looked up at them, “you said you were going on a supply run? I thought you traded a crap ton of scrap metal for that,”

“No? I was racing,” they stated. “Someone bet fifty that I couldn’t beat them,”

—

It was a late summer evening that day, the sun still up in the sky pridefully. Plenty of people were racing, lined up on the side of the road, watching as fast cars and motorcycles whipped past them.

“Hey you, in the navy jacket,” someone shouted at them.

They looked over, spotting the person yelling at them. He had mid-length messy black hair, a yellow shirt, and a ripped up black jean jacket. His stature was shorter than average, but he looked to have a larger build, mostly muscle. “Yeah, you alright?”

“Me and you, race? I’ll bet fifty,”

Looking at the man in front of them, they put on a confused expression. “Why?”

“You look confident,” he shrugged.

“Alright.” They stuck out their gloved hand for him to shake. “Fifty it is.”

He shook their hand firmly, sealing the deal. “I’ll go notify Show Pony, they’ll set us up for the next race.” They nodded and waited as he walked away. Shortly after the last race finished, he ran up to them. “Snagged us a spot, follow me.” He waved his hand as he walked in the direction of the start.

Once they were at the starting line, the tension was high. They got on top of their motorbike and put their helmet on. Grabbing the handles, they leaned forward, maintaining a steady balance. Their mind raced, wondering how they were supposed to give a stranger fifty dollars if they lost the bet.

He looked over at them, as if it was going to be an easy win. “Don’t stress it, I’ll take it easy on you,” he chuckled.

They turned their eyes onto him in annoyance and returned their attention back to the stretch of road in front of them.

“Three—” Silence enveloped the desert air.

“Two—” The wind rushed past both of them, rustling the dirt.

“One—” They both revved their engines, anticipation boiling the air like the sun.

The revolver rang in their ears, signaling the start of the race. They twisted their throttle, sending them forward on the motorcycle. As they continued to accelerate, they kept their eyes forward, focusing on the end.

People cheered loudly, clapping and hollering as both vehicles ripped down the road at an insanely fast speed, most likely gaining the attention of people passing by.

The desert scenery seemed to fly right past them, disappearing and coming quickly. Adrenaline coursed through their veins as they continued down the road, engine growling beneath them. The hot sun started to make them sweat, causing their jacket to stick to their skin uncomfortably.

However, they didn’t allow that to distract them as they continued to speed up, lowering their body to reduce air resistance. As they both approached the finish line, the crowd became more loud within the final meters.

When they crossed the finish line, it seemed like he crossed it as well at the same time. Their vehicles came to a stop and they both stepped off and out of them.

Silently, they both walked back to the finish, Show Pony standing there. “I am proud to announce,”

Nervousness seeped into them. If they didn’t win then they’d owe that guy fifty dollars, which was much more than they had at hand at the moment.

“The winner of this race is—” They grabbed their hand and raised it high in the air. The crowd started to roar, hollering all sorts of complements and congratulations as he handed the money to them.

“Good one, kid.” He walked away towards his car and drove off, and they couldn’t tell if he was upset or not.

—

Dunn closed the hood of his car as he finished repairing it, listening to them telling their story. “Damn, you did all of that?” He leaned against the car, crossing his arms in front of him.

“It wasn’t much, plus we were tight on money that month,”

He looked at them with a genuine smile, “Thank you.”

They smiled back and hummed, allowing silence to overtake the both of them. The scorching sun stood at midday, beaming downwards.

“Car should be fixed now,” he broke the silence. “Should we take it on a test drive?” He asked, looking up at them.

“Yeah, let’s see how good you fixed it for now,” they chuckled.

They both got into the car, Dunn on the passenger side, and them on the driver’s. As they drove off, the car seemed to run smoothly without any strange sounds or noises coming from the engine.

“Sounds pretty good so far, right?”

Nodding their head, they continued to drive down the road. “Yup, pretty smooth.”

The slight breeze that came as they drove was refreshing compared to the sun, which seemed hotter than ever.

“I’m going to turn back,” they spoke as they turned the car around. “Don’t want to waste gas,”

He nodded in agreement as they continued to drive back to their quarters. The drive back was mostly silent, but it was quickly broken by him talking. “What if I never tried to run away? What if I stayed in Battery City?”

They turned their head, looking over at Dunn, who was sitting comfortably in his tank, now mostly covered in dust, oil, and sweat. “I don’t know,” they whispered, barely vocal over the sound of the car. “I just know that you wouldn’t be out here today.”

“Well I’m glad I ran then.” He smiled.

[loakstahni]

Some notes for Lyle and colten's baby boy✨

Warning ⚠: child birth, stress during birth, mentions of sex, breastfeeding, breathing scare, mentions of throwing up, fluff.

A/N: this was ment to be just notes but ended up being a fic or something-

colten and lyle didn't really plan Owen, he just kinda- happened.

Colten found out she was pregnant during the normal monthly recom check up and poof- Owen was there.

She kept things to herself, mainly because she didn't know how Lyle, a big baby himself, would react.

He did find out though, she had come back from a mission (that she was told not to go on by a medic, but she didn't listen) when she got back she thought lyle was asleep so she just started taking her vest off, and her tight undershirt kinda gave away the fact that her stomach was Slightly swollen.

Colten had a really rough 1st and 2nd trimester, she was non-stop sick, she could hardly keep food down-

When colten reached her due date lyle made sure they had everything ready, because they wanted to have a 'home birth'. Lyle spent all day cleaning their quarters, making sure the shower and bathtub was clean. He even asked the medical team for a few things, like an IV, (he learned how to do it beforehand) he even got clamps for the baby's cord and medical scissors.

Colten's water broke around 3-4 am on November 26 2173, she basicly woke up and realized she was sitting in a puddle. Lyle was already freaking out and started cleaning the bed while Colten was calmly getting her nursing bra and some towels.

her contractions started around 6:30 am, and they kinda felt like period cramps, they didn't hurt much. She ended up falling asleep again and woke up around 8:45 am.

Her contractions by then were around 12-15 minutes apart, and they felt more painful. And they were based around her hips and back, which kinda made it worse.

Around noon she ended up in the bathroom leaning agaisnt the sink counter top while lyle squeezed her hips gently. Mumbling gentle words of encouragement like, "you got this, mama." Or whenever colten would hiss or groan or whine lyle would make sure to coo at her to try and calm her down.

Around 2:34 pm Lyle got bathtub ready and made sure the water was warm, and they had the basket of towels and the padded bath mat.

At 3:30 Colten's contractions were terrible, she was at the point of tears and her contractions were 2-3 minutes apart.

Colten couldn't get comfortable at all, she kept getting out of the tub and into the shower a few times before lyle had to intervene.

She ended up back in the tub after lyle calmed her down a bit. She was on her knees most of the time, her arms on the edge of the tub with her head resting agaisnt her arms.

Lyle stayed knelt on the bathmat outside the tub, his hands running through her hair.

Around 5 pm Colten was sobbing with every contraction, sometimes she had 3 Contractions right after each other.

colten started pushing at 6:30 pm, by that time lyle had striped down to nothing but his boxers and sat in the tub with Colten, holding her back agaisnt his chest while she struggled to push.

Colten was pushing until 7:45 pm when she started sobbing that she couldn't do it, which shocked lyle because Colten wasn't a crier.

At 8:20 pm on November 26th 2173 Owen james wainfleet was born, colten scooped owen out of the water but he didn't cry, he was breathing but not crying. "Is he alright..?" Lyle mumbled, reaching over the egde of the tub to grab the clamps and scissors.

As soon as the cord was cut owen started crying, which made lyle and Colten start crying too-

Owen weighed 20 pounds (light for na'vi babies) and was 35 inches (not counting his tail) his stripe pattern matches lyle's and his Tahní pattern matches Colten's.

When Colten got owen and herself cleaned up and they moved out to the bed, she tried nursing Owen but kinda gave up, and gave owen to Lyle.

Owen started trying to latch onto lyle's nipple which made him chuckle. "He's hungry, mama." Lyle chuckles, gently handing Owen back to Colten, and he instantly started nursing from her.

Bonus✨: lyle learned how to crochet and made baby hats and socks for Owen✨

Taglist: @quicktosimp

[virtie333]

Day 18 - Life Day Damerey Celebration

Prompt: Food

Summary: Poe wants to get Rey a special present for Life Day

Notes: In my short story Secret Admirer, I created the loloberry. I have continued to use them in my canon stories. This particular short could be considered a sequel to Secret Admirer.

AO3

It was no secret Rey loved loloberries.

She had never had them before joining the Resistance, and though that could be said for a lot of food, loloberries became her favorite quickly. Poe had recognized this fact early on, and had tried to save some for her whenever they were offered during a meal. At first, he had made BB8 sneak them into her quarters, but she found out who was doing the sneaking pretty quick. After that, Poe would bring them directly to her at the end of the day and they would share, though Poe made sure she got the majority of what he brought. He liked them, too, but not as much as she did. Plus, he took a great deal of pleasure seeing her so happy.

Unfortunately, with the war dragging on, it was getting harder and harder to find fresh rations for everyone at the base. Loloberries were at the bottom of the list of necessities. Rey, of course, understood this, and was okay with it, but Poe knew she missed the sweet treat she had become so fond of.

Life Day was approaching, and it would be Rey’s first real Life Day. While certain individuals on Jakku celebrated it, it wasn’t a community wide event, so Rey rarely ever knew it was even happening. Despite the tight rations, Leia had approved an evening for everyone to celebrate this year, and Poe was determined to get Rey a present he knew she would appreciate.

Whenever he knew someone was going off base, he asked them to keep their eyes open for any fresh loloberries they might be able to purchase, or at least to let Poe know where some might be. Because he was one of the First Order’s ‘Most Wanted’ right now, he knew that he couldn’t really go anyplace too populated for fear of being recognized, but he was ready to bargain with anyone who could get him those loloberries before Life Day.

Snap and Jess teased him mercilessly for his devotion to finding Rey some loloberries, but Suralinda and Karè both supported the idea wholeheartedly. It was Jess and Suralinda that finally found them. A farmer on Kenoshii that was selling several processed Tip-Yips also grew loloberries and had several ripe ones ready to go. While Jess and Suralinda had only been sent for the Tip-Yip, they made sure a nice sized load of loloberries were included. On the way back to the base, they agreed that Poe should spend the next month doing their laundry in return for their purchase of the berries.

Poe was ecstatic and though he rolled his eyes at the ‘payment,’ he didn’t argue. He noticed the look the women gave each other at his acquiesce, but he didn’t try to defend himself. At this point, he didn’t care if the First Order knew he was smitten with Rey.

Life Day came. While a skeleton crew kept an eye on their defenses, the rest of the base took the evening off to enjoy the Tip-yip, mashed topatos, spiced bogwing, and Rorkid bread. The evening was half over when Poe brought out the big bowl of loloberries and placed in on the table in front of Rey.

“Share them, or keep them all to yourself,” he told her as she looked at the bowl with wide eyes. “They’re all yours.”

Rey blinked rapidly as everyone around her cheered. “Happy Life Day!”

“Of course, I’m sharing!” Rey finally said, laughing. “But I’m also keeping some for later!”

It was as the party wound down that Poe found out what Rey’s ‘later’ meant.

She grabbed his arm, towing him out of the mess. “I need to talk to you in private.” She led him to her quarters. Once there, she deposited her small stash of berries, which she had wrapped in a handkerchief, in the middle of her bed. Right where Poe used to have BB8 leave his berries back when he had been sneaking them into Rey’s room for Poe.

“Share them with me?” Rey asked softly.

“You know very well I’m not as addicted as you are to them,” Poe said wryly.

“Then sit and talk with me while I enjoy them,” she said with a smile.

Poe nodded. “I can do that.”

They talked until the loloberries were gone, and then even beyond that. When Poe finally left a half-asleep Rey shortly before 0100, he knew there would be rumors around base. And he didn’t care. He had just had one of the best Life Days ever with the most amazing woman he had ever known.

And maybe someday, when Rey was ready, those rumors would become true.

[slippinmickeys]

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (19/?)

When Mulder woke, he felt a distinct sense of something missing, like a twinge on a phantom limb. He half-rolled over on his cot and pressed his nose into the side of his pillow which still carried the scent of Scully. He huffed deeply and felt a surge of dopamine hit his bloodstream.

With a quick glance at his clock, he saw that it was morning, but still fairly early, and remembered that all of the shield crew didn’t have to leave their racks until almost midday, but he rolled over and sat up anyway, wiping a hand across tired eyes. He would rather be tired and spend time with Scully than sleep – an odd sensation for a guy who could nap with the best of them.

He’d always known how it would go, when and if he and Scully got together — he was under no misapprehension. Like an itch that was under the skin, they wouldn’t be able to get enough of each other, they wouldn’t want to be apart. The thing about being one of the first Mars colonists though – they would have to be. For various missions and even just day-to-day tasks, they would be separated by rooms, miles, even sols. It was going to hurt. But the coming back together: meals grabbed in the mess, the occasional duty they were both assigned, and, he now knew from experience – stolen nights together in one or the other’s quarters – would be sweeter than a gulp of mountain air after a fresh rain. And being that they’d been breathing nothing but canned and scrubbed air for the better part of the last year – Mulder knew from sweet.

He took a quick shower in the lav and hustled to the medical bay, trying to appear as though he weren’t rushing when every cell of his body was telling him to go faster. When she met his eyes from the doorway with the brightest of smiles, he could have floated to her side on pure exhilaration.

“Morning,” he said, smiling back, feeling ever-so-slightly shy and dopey.

“Hey,” she said, and looked down at the floor briefly, clearly feeling the same way. She was hunched over shipping kits made of plastic and metal. Mulder noticed that there were five or six similar containers on the exam table, which she glanced at briefly as she rose to stand. “Didn’t think I’d see you for at least a few more hours.”

“I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?” he asked, suddenly just a tiny bit unsure.

“No!” she said quickly, and then blushed. Another surge of dopamine hit Mulder’s bloodstream. “No,” she said again, regaining a little composure. “I just know the commander didn’t put a wake-up order on you guys this morning and I thought you might sleep in.”

“I’d rather be here,” he said, taking a step into the room.

She was wearing a white jumpsuit today, which made her look particularly trim and highlighted the bright shade of her hair. She seemed to get more beautiful by the sol. By the hour. By the minute.

“I’m going to put you to work,” she said, friendly but haughty, thrusting her chin out. “We have to go over all the base medications – which is going to feel like your worst class in graduate school, I might point out – and I still haven’t put away the supplies that got tossed when Robo-2 failed.”

Mulder raised his brows. “Will I be working closely with you while engaged in all this sadistic labor?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“Then don’t threaten me with a good time, Scully.”

She smiled.

They began by going over the meds, which was just as tedious and awful as she warned him it would be. He ended up having to get a pad of paper and take notes while Scully gave him a comprehensive run-down of everything they had on base. Considering NASA had tried to cover just about every medical eventuality, it took quite a bit of time.

“The computer will help you with diagnoses if you need to run something quickly,” she said, “and the Flight Surgeon at Mission Control can handle anything that’s not acute.” He knew all of this, of course, and had studied it all while en route on board the Larunda, but it was good to see where it all was being stored, and to get a better feel for the medical bay.

Scully stood. “That’s it on compulsory duty,” she said. “Feel free to head back and try to get a little more sleep, Mulder. I know you must be exhausted.”

He fought the urge to yawn, but stood and stretched.

“I was adequately put through my paces last night, I admit,” he said, even though he knew she was talking about the fatigue he was experiencing due to the rigors of the magnetic shield mission. He stepped into her space, forcing her to look up at him, which she did with a sly smile.

“ Adequately ?” she intoned, teasing him.

“More than adequate,” he said. “Scully,” his voice dropped to a whisper and he leaned down even more, until their noses were almost touching. “Last night was… out of this world.”

She threw back her head and let rip an undignified guffaw which energized him more than any sleep ever could.

“Come on,” he said, still smiling and moving over to the payload cases that she’d stacked on the exam table, the edges on some stained a rusty orange from where they’d sat in the powdery regolith. “Let me help you with these.”

She grinned and moved over with him, and they began to check the structure of each container before opening it and cataloguing what was inside, after which they unpacked each one, filling the medical bay with the rest of its complement of supplies. When they were on the second to last kit, Mulder turned it from where it sat on the metal gurney.

“Structure seems fine,” he reported to Scully, who had a laptop open on the other end of the tabletop with the inventory list open. “But one of the latches is damaged,” he said, fingering the loose metal clasp.

“Is the other latch intact?” she asked, looking up from her computer.

“Seems to be,” he said.

Scully pursed her lips. “Let’s check for regolith particles on the interior. See if the seal was compromised.”

Mulder nodded and opened the other latch, swinging open the container, which was shaped like an oversized briefcase. Scully handed him a magnifying glass, which she seemed to have conjured out of thin air. From where he stood, there didn’t appear to be any Martian dust on or near the edge closest to the compromised latch, which he reported to Scully before taking a closer look with the magnifying glass.

“Seal does not appear to have been compromised,” he said, straightening back up and handing the tool back to Scully.

She nodded, made a note on her laptop and turned to him.

“Contents?” she said.

He picked up the small bottles one at a time and read off the contents. “Pills, looks like,” he said. “We’ve got uh… ibuprofen,” he set that bottle aside and picked up the next one. “And…” he squinted at the printing on the bottle. Though they’d gone over nearly all the medications in the clinic, this wasn’t one he was familiar with. “I don’t know this one. Dimeth…” he started.

Scully looked up from her computer with a grin, as though she was trying not to laugh. “Dimethandrolone undecanoate?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied, relieved not to have had to wrap his tongue around that particular mouthful. “What’s so funny?”

“Don’t you look at the bottles that you have to open every morning and take with breakfast?” she asked him.

“This is a vitamin?” he asked, squinting once again at the bottle. There were a whole host of supplements they needed to take because they weren’t ingesting or exposed to them on this alien planet, as well as other compounds that the doctors wanted them to take to fight the effects of low or no gravity – substances to help preserve bone strength, eye function, muscle repair and growth. Each morning as they sat down to eat, they ingested a veritable candy dish worth of pharmaceuticals. He glanced up to find her smiling at him.

“It’s your birth control, Mulder,” she said with a smirk.

He gave her a look and she leaned over and picked up another bottle. “And mine,” she went on. “I think this contains the whole reproductive health suite.”

“Well,” said Mulder, hoping to regain some of his dignity, and perhaps the conversational upper hand, “I hope to put it to good and frequent use.”

“Count on it, flyboy,” she said.

[amazingmsme]

1D for the ask meme?

AN: So most of my obscure fandoms have a really small cast of characters so it took me a while to figure out what I was gonna write, then I rewatched Sinbad Legend of the Seven Seas which is one of my all time favorites and I just HAD to write something with my favorite threesome lol.

Sinbad would've never thought that he and Proteus would cross paths again, and certainly wouldn't expect them to remain friends. But despite their many years apart leading very different lives, they managed to fall in perfect sync with one another without missing a beat.

With the book safely returned, the kingdoms rejoiced. Proteus was insistent that Sinbad and his crew stayed for the celebration. He was reluctant at first, but he could never say no to that face. Or to free food. And if people wanted to praise him and stroke his ego all night, he might as well stick around.

He never intended to stay the night, but the hours flew by without notice. He was only a little pissed when he realized the crew had gone back to the ship without him. He couldn't really blame them, he hadn't exactly been paying them any attention and ignored their not so subtle hints that they were ready to turn in. So when Sinbad found himself alone as the party guests continued to dwindle, Proteus wandered over, Marina hanging on his arm.

"Looks like your crew left you out to dry," he teased, announcing their presence. Sinbad rolled his eyes fondly as he turned around to face them.

"Yeah, that's nothing new," he drawled, shuffling over. He was fairly tipsy- not drunk. Sinbad doesn't get drunk on fancy drinks like champagne, but he had a pleasantly warm buzz going on.

"You know, the great thing about living in a palace is that you always have a free guest room," Proteus said casually. He reached out and placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. "Why not stay the night? I feel like I've barely seen you since you got back."

Sinbad chuckled, leaning into the touch and grabbed his other arm. "That's because you're right. For once, I was the bell of the ball. You couldn't get me alone even if you tried," he joked.

"And believe me, I tried," Proteus shot back. They fell into comfortable banter as he lead them through winding halls. It felt as though no time had passed since they'd run around in the streets, roughhousing and playing pretend.

Sinbad paused when he saw where he had lead them. "Uh Proteus, this is your room," he bluntly pointed out.

"I see no better place for a slumber party."

"Slumber party? What are we, twelve?" he asked, though he barged right in and proceeded to make himself at home.

"I just thought we could finally catch up properly," Proteus said, following him to the bed. Marina laid down on Sinbad's other side, trapping him in the middle.

They spent the first few hours together laughing and recounting exploits on the high seas and reminiscing on the days of their youth. After the third hour, Marina tapped into the hidden stash of booze in Proteus's quarters.

"A prince who hides liquor? A bit scandalous, don't you think?" Sinbad chuckled as he opened the bottle with his teeth and took a swig.

"Oh please, you of all people should know I'm not as straight edged as I appear," he sassed, snatching the bottle and taking a few gulps.

The three of them were tangled in each others limbs as they passed the bottle around, getting drunker and merrier as the night continued. And much to Sinbad's surprise, Marina was a very handsy drunk. Proteus was more gentle with lingering touches that just barely grazed his skin, but Marina was practically ravenous.

She kissed down his neck, one leg thrown over his waist and resting in her fiancé's lap as her hands roamed Sinbad's scarred torso, pressing into his side and raking over his ribs. His breath hitched and he flinched violently under his touch.

Marina recognized the reaction from the countless times she'd turned Proteus into a laughing, breathless mess. She smirked against his neck, curling her fingers against his waist and relished in the gasp she got in return.

Proteus caught Sinbad's gaze and flashed him a devilish grin. He glared at him from over Marina's shoulder and mouthed 'don't you dare.'

"Carefulthere darling, Sinbad's rather sensitive," he cooed, reaching over to squeeze his knee. He jerked his leg away, having to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent an embarrassing squeal from escaping. Marina's eyes lit up with excitement and mischief.

"Oh don't tell me the fearless Sinbad is ticklish," she purred, studying his expression carefully. Sinbad's brows shot up to meet his hairline and a faint blush dusted his cheeks before he could school his features.

"Pft, what? Me, ticklish? That's silly, of course I'm- noho!" His cool and collected dismissal immediately fell flat on his tongue as Proteus latched onto his hip and squeezed.

"Sorry, but there'll be no lying your way out of this one," he said as he brought his other hand around to grab ahold of his other hip. Sinbad bucked wildly under the touch, one hand immediately flying up to his mouth to conceal his laughter while the other grappled to shove prying hands away.

Marina watched with joy and admiration, giggling as the two men wrestled on the bed. Sinbad scrambled to get away, and he was almost successful, but Proteus grabbed his ankles and drug him back to face his demise. Sinbad held his arms out defensively, eyes glued to his friend's hands. He wore a nervous grin and flinched at the slightest movements, much to the others' amusement.

"As crazy as it sounds, he's actually quite ticklish, though he'd love for you to believe otherwise," he mused and motioned for Marina to join them.  She crawled over with a wicked smile like a lion stalking it's prey. Sinbad whined and squirmed in a feeble attempt at escape. She ran a soothing hand through his hair to calm him as she raised his arms, pinning them under her legs.

"I don't think it's all that crazy. I mean, just look at him. He was practically made to be wrecked," Marina cooed, cupping his face with one hand and squeezing his cheeks. He blushed and jerked away from her grasp.

"Excuse me? The hell does that mean?" he asked indignantly.

"Oh relax, it's a compliment."

"Yeah but I really don't like that tone."

"Oh please, you love it," she sassed.

"Almost as much as you love what's about to happen."

"Proteus!" Sinbad scolded, cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

"What? She'd catch on pretty quick anyways, it's not like you're very good at hiding it," he teased.

"...You don't know that," he said weakly, looking away with a pout.

"Oh but he does," Marina said, dragging her nails down his arms making him shudder. "Besides, I think it's adorable."

Sinbad snapped his head up to look at her. "News flash: pirates aren't supposed to be adorable!"

"Well you aaaare," she sang, fluttering her fingers  in his exposed pits. He clamped his mouth shut and grunted as he fought against the mirth building up inside his lungs. Proteus gave an amused huff.

"Don't tell me you're trying to pull that tough guy routine. You know it won't work," he pointed out. He leaned in to speak directly in his ear, hot breath ghosting over sensitive skin, sending goosebumps down his arms and legs. "Especially when I know exactly what makes you tick."

Sinbad wanted to give a smart ass retort- to say that he didn't know jack shit, but all coherent thought flew out the window when he felt clawed hands latch onto his knees.

He was in for a long night, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[fandomsaligninstories]

Year Two: The Chamber of Secrets

Chapter List WC: 2,028

31st October, Saturday, 1992

Violet was starting to believe that Halloween at Hogwarts was cursed, much like the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. It was only her second halloween there, but it was the second in a row that something disastrous had happened. Last year, a troll got into the castle and almost killed her and Hermione. This year, well, no one really knew what it was. 

After halloween feast that evening, all of the houses were on their way back to their respective quarters, when they stumbled on a trio of students and a horrifying scene. 

The Gryffindors and Slytherins were at the front of the group, many students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had to push their way through the crowds to see what was going on. There, Hermione, Harry, and Ron were standing in the middle of the hallway, with a warning painted in blood on the wall. 

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened, enemies of the Heir... beware."

And there, on the wall, hung from a sconce, was a cat. It was a grey, scruffy looking thing; upon closer inspection, Violet realized it was Mrs. Norris, Mr. Filch's cat. Mr. Filch was the caretaker at Hogwarts, and though he was a nasty man, he didn't deserve to have his cat killed in such a way.

Whispers and gasps spread through the halls as more students saw what happened. 

Through the noise, one clear voice spoke out, "Enemies of the heir, beware." Everyone turned to look at Draco Malfoy, who was stood in front of the Slytherins, "You'll be next, Mudbloods."

He made a point to look directly at Hermione when speaking, but then he caught sight of Violet, and the corner of his lips lifted in a smirk.

"What's going on 'ere?" Mr. Filch's voice came from the behind Violet. She turned to see him just as he pushed his way through the crowd, "Go on. Make way, make way!"

As he exited the crowd, he walked towards the trio of Gryffindors still stood in the center of the hallway, "Potter? What are you..." He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence when he spotted sight of the cat, his voice taking a dangerous edge to it, "Mrs. Norris? You've murdered my cat." 

"No. No." Harry tried to explain, but Filch stepped forward and grabbed Harry by the collar.

"I'll kill you... I'LL KILL YOU!" He started to shake Harry, but luckily a group of professors made their way into the clearing. 

"Argus!" Professor Dumbledore stepped forward, with Professors McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Gilderoy behind him, "Everyone will proceed to their dormitories immediately. Everyone except you three..." The trio stayed behind, though they tried desperately to blend into the crowd to leave.

The crowd dispersed, Prefects leading the students back to their houses. Violet hesitated, only leaving the remaining group when Aimee and Hannah each grabbed her arms and pulled her away. 

As she trailed down the hallway, she felt a slight bit of comfort when she heard Dumbledores voice behind her, "She's not dead, Argus. She has been Petrified." 

The whole way to their house, the Hufflepuffs were discussing what they had found in the hallway. Younger years were asking the older years question after question; what is the Chamber of Secrets? What does it mean that it's opened? Who is 'the heir'? And so on. 

Violet stayed silent, listening to the older students explain what little they knew, which was nothing, really. No one knew what the Chamber was, or who the Heir was. They could only guess that it was related to the Slytherins, as Draco Malfoy's comment made it seem he knew something about what was happening. 

Many students started to discuss what they had found, and what it meant that the trio of Gryffindors were found at the scene. Many said they thought Harry was behind whatever had happened, but others disagreed, saying he was too young and too naive to know anything. Violet wanted to agree, hoping that Harry was innocent. 

She hadn't really spoken to Harry or Ron much this year, their only shared class being Herbology. She saw Hermione around a fair bit, usually when they were both in the library studying. They both liked the quiet space, away from their common rooms and friends so they could focus. They didn't generally speak much, except for the few minutes after they'd finished their work and walked back to their respective houses. 

Still, she'd like to believe that none of the three of them were capable of Petrifying the cat, or writing such an ominous threat in blood. Really, if they had done it, how dumb would it be for them to have been caught there, anyway? 

━━━━━━⊱༻ ༺⊰━━━━━━

3rd November, Tuesday, 1992

The following few days, all anyone could talk about was the Chamber of Secrets. No one had any answers yet, but with Transfiguration as Violet's first class on Tuesday, she hoped someone would ask Professor McGonagall to explain it. And, as luck would have it, one of the Ravenclaws asked the question. 

Professor McGonagall had just shown the class how to preform Vera Verto, a spell that turned an animal into a water goblet. Violet was excited to try it, but she was more interested in the impromptu history lesson. 

"Very well..." Professor McGonagall looked around the room, likely realizing that, for once, she had every single students attention, and that no one was willing to drop the topic, "You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Now, three of the founders coexisted quite harmoniously. One did not..."

The professor walked around the room as she spoke, observing each student as she went. Violet grew uncomfortable when the professor spent a few extra moments studying her, "Salazar Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. In other words, pure-bloods. Unable to sway the others, he decided to leave the school. Now, according to legend, Slytherin built a hidden chamber in this castle, known as the Chamber of Secrets. 

"Though, shortly before departing, he sealed it until that time when his own true Heir returned to the school. The Heir alone would be able to open the Chamber, and unleash the horror within, and by so doing, purge the school of all those, in Slytherin's view, were unworthy to study magic."

"Muggle-borns." Someone at the front of the room replied. 

The professor nodded, "Naturally, the school has been searched many times. No such Chamber has been found."

McGonagall moved towards the front of the room, and she made a gesture as if to say they were moving on, but Violet couldn't help herself, "But, Professor, what exactly is in the Chamber?" 

Professor McGonagall looked back to Violet, that ever-present knowing look in her eye as she responded, "It is said to be home to something only the Heir of Slytherin can control. It is said to be the home of a monster."

The silence hung over the room like a blanket. 

"Now, if we may return to today's lesson."

▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

For the rest of the day, rumours and talk spread around the castle about what Professor McGonagall had taught them about the Chamber of Secrets, as she'd evidently had the same lecture several times throughout the day. The most prominent rumour thus far was that of the Heir, and who it could possibly be. The two most common names were Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Most of the Hufflepuffs believed the Heir to be Harry, whereas the Gryffindors believed it to be Draco. Ravenclaw was split between the two, and the Slytherins made it known that they believed it to be Draco. After all, why wouldn't they want one of their own to be the Heir of Slytherin?

Violet was torn. She didn't want to believe it was Harry; after all he'd been through, why would he want to attack muggle-borns? After all, his mother was muggle-born. But she wasn't so sure that it would be Draco, either. If it were him, why wouldn't he make a bigger deal out of it? So far, all he'd done was tell people yes when they asked if he was the Heir, and he was constantly going on about how prominent his family was, but that was practically it. He didn't make any grand gestures to show off his title as Heir, and if there's any one thing Draco Malfoy is known for, it's making a big deal out of something. 

Either way, Violet tried to stay out of the discussions as much as she could. And she managed to do so for the rest of the day, until dinner.

She was sat between Aimee and Cedric, as usual. The topic of discussion was, naturally, the Chamber of Secrets. The entire Hufflepuff table were talking about it and how Harry was the Heir. Violet had been mostly able to ignore it, until Cedric asked, "What do you think, Vi?"

She tried to act nonchalant by shrugging, "Haven't really thought about it."

"Oh, c'mon!" A fifth-year, whose name she didn't know, groaned, "It's all anyones talking about. How could you not think about it?"

"I have more important things to think about." She tried to argue, "Like the Astronomy quiz later."

Aimee cut off whatever the boy was about to say, "Wait, there's a quiz in Astronomy?" 

Violet looked at her friend with surprise, "Yes! Haven't you been studying for it?"

Aimee's eyes got comically large as she shook her head, "No! I thought it was next week!" 

Violet couldn't help but laugh, "No, it's tonight."

"Bollocks!" Aimee shoveled food in as fast as she could without choking, finishing her meal in minutes, before she ran off.

"Good job," Cedric laughed, nudging Violet with his shoulder, "Now she's going to panic her way through it."

"She'll be fine," Violet laughed, "She actually likes Astronomy for some reason, it's one of her favourite subjects. There's no way she'll fail."

"Ah," He nodded, watching her for a moment, "So, you really don't have an opinion on who the Heir is?"

She sighed, "Not really. It's all too confusing. Sure, it could be Harry, or it could be Draco, or it could be anyone. There's no way of telling. All I know is, I'm not going to let the threat towards muggle-borns scare me off."

"Good, I'd hate to lose you." He threw an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side, "You've grown on me, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, you've grown on me too. Now bugger off, I want to eat."

Cedric laughed as he pulled away, turning back to his own food. 

The girl looked up when someone said her name. Caroline and Susan were staring at her with odd expressions, "Violet, he's staring at you again."

Violet felt her muscles tense up as she turned, locking eyes with none other than Draco Malfoy.

Ever since the moment in the hallway on Saturday, he'd gone back to his creepy ways. Neither he or the rest of Slytherin house had done anything suspicious, but more and more Violet noticed Draco watching her. He never averted his gaze when she caught him staring, which only made her more uncomfortable and suspicious. 

"I'm about to give him something to stare at." Cedric grumbled, turning to look at the boy. Violet merely placed a hand on Cedric's arm. Something odd happened then.

Draco's eyes narrowed at her, and she wasn't sure why. She slide her hand down Cedrics arm, until her hand was in his. At this, Draco's entire face transformed with anger, before it quickly changed back to indifference.

"Vi? Violet, what're you doing?"

Violet was pulled out of her thoughts at Cedrics voice, "What? Oh, sorry, I just thought... He... Never mind."

She pulled her hand from his, turning to grab her bag from the floor, "I'm going to go check on Aimee."

Cedric didn't argue, only staring after the girl as she rushed off. He was curious as to what she was thinking, but he was more worried about her than anything. His worry increased when he realized Draco was now gone from his table. 

━⊱༻ ༺⊰━ TAGLIST: @stellarlune-love

[anticomedygarden]

England's got a new queen! part 3

part one | ao3 link

-

"And here's the room where Nixon told his family he was gonna resign," June says, gesturing into the dark room.

"Lovely," Pez says brightly.

"It's also the room where Nancy Reagan found out Ronald Reagan was shot," Nora adds.

"Even better." He turns to June, and his light purple hair - the hair that he apparently dyed especially for this trip - catches the light. It looks good. "I trust I'm not staying in a room that has anything to do with either of those men?"

"Of course not," June assures him. "You're staying with me."

Pez raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And where are you staying?" he asks Nora.

"Alex's room." When the entire White House Trio is staying at the Residence, she has her own room, but when Alex isn't there, she moves everything in there to the left five degrees. She's up to 20, and he hasn't said anything.

It's exhilarating.

They finally reach June's room so Pez can dump his stuff, and June fires off more texts to Bea, Alex, and Henry in the hopes that something gets through. Nora isn't optimistic.

"Hey, are either of you hungry? It's just about lunchti-"

A blaring alarm pierces through the rest of June's words, and they all jump.  

"That's the fire alarm," June says, brown eyes wide.

"Should we not be running?" Pez asks, calm demeanor visibly straining. Nora can't blame him. This was supposed to be safer than his apartment.

"What if it's a ploy to get us all outside and in one place?" June points out.

They all stare at each other, wasting possibly precious time. There's no one else in this part of the building at this time of day, so it's not like they can ask someone what to do.

Just then, the sound of firetrucks and other emergency vehicles makes itself known over the still blaring fire alarm, and suddenly, the whole situation seems a lot more real.

Nora does the math. "Run."

-

The next day, Henry and Alex don't even consider going back to the trails. They don't even decide what to do with their day until about 1 p.m., an hour after they get up.

They don't mean to stay in bed that long; they're legs just hurt really bad.

At the kitchen island, Henry looks up from his pancakes. "I was thinking we could go swimming today."

Alex nearly groans at the thought of more exercise. "Are you sure? Yesterday was a lot."

Henry nods. "Swimming is good for sore muscles, and there's a pond near here."

Oh god, Alex didn't even think of the walk to get there. It better not be too bad because Cash left a note before they got up that he was already on the trails.

Henry must sense his thoughts, because he hurries to say, "The pond isn't even a quarter mile from here."

Still not ideal, but, "That sounds fine."

Which is how, 30 minutes later, Alex is shucking off his shirt and shoes and jumping into glittering blue water, Henry right behind him.

When he resurfaces, Henry is right next to him, and Alex has the sudden urge to grab onto him and not let go.

Huh. Trauma has a funny way of showing itself, doesn't it? It's not like they haven't been back to the lake house since 2020 or that he can't be around water without getting anxious. In fact, they've mostly managed to work through a lot of the problems that had stemmed from that trip. Maybe it's the isolation leaving no distractions, or the annoyingly fresh air making his mind work faster that's bringing back the memories, or maybe it's the weird/bad feeling that still won't go away.

Whatever it is, he tries to reassure himself that Henry would never leave again, which he knows. That, and he literally can't leave, not without at least alerting Cash and making lots of noise.

Anyway, Alex doesn't even try to resist the urge and pounces on his boyfriend, pulling them both under. They struggle for a few minutes before popping back up for air. Henry may take a knee to the stomach, but Alex certainly can't be blamed under these conditions.

They wrestle for a while longer and then relax while treading water, and they even play a rather violent game of Marco Polo.

By the time they go back to the cabin, they're both pleasantly tired, and Alex can't even remember why he ever felt uneasy in the first place.

-

All three of them take off running toward the nearest staircase, Nora in the lead.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait and make sure it's safe? I don't want to be assassinated," June shouts over the sirens and alarms.

"Better assassinated than burned to death by a fucking building fire!" Nora reasons, and is 100% right.

Pez breaks in. "I agree. Assassination means you made it."

"I want a third option!" June exclaims.

If only there was one.

It doesn't take long to get to an exit, and soon they're out on the back lawn along with various staffers.

Oh, and there's Zahra.

"What is going on?" June demands, ignoring the phone pressed to her ear.

Zahra holds up a finger, and they wait for her to finish her phone call.

"Mhm...yeah...yep, okay, love you, bye." She hangs up and faces them. "What do you want?"

"Hold on, was that Shaan?" Pez asks gleefully. He shares Alex's obsession with Shaan and Zahra, and, honestly, it's kinda hilarious. It's become somewhat of a norm for one of them to text the group chat with some stupid update like, "Zahra is reading The Catcher in the Rye," or, "Shaan is sexting Zahra again." Nora wouldn't say it's one of the reasons she gets up in the morning, but...it totally is.

Zahra ignores Pez and turns to June. Good choice. "What do you want?"

"What's going on?" June asks again.

Zahra holds her hands up in the air. "The fire alarm went off."

"Thanks, that's helpful," June deadpans. "Do you know anything else?"

Zahra rolls her eyes. "As of thirty seconds ago, everyone we know that was in the Residence is fine and on the front lawn."

They all breathe a sigh of relief. "Do we know if-"

Once again, June is cut off, this time by Zahra's phone.

"Hello?...Okay...yes, ma'am, they're with me...okay...great, we're on our way." She hangs up and shoves her phone in her pocket, and they wait for her to tell them what's going on. "Good news. There's no fire."

It sounds like good news, but Nora's mind immediately goes to murder. She asks, "Does that mean someone pulled the alarm on purpose, like, maybe to get us all outside in the same place?"

"No, a cook accidentally started a grease fire."

They all cheer. "Yay!"

So much for the murder theory, although they really can't rule it out yet. Still, though, Nora allows herself to relax. Just a little.

Of course, it has to end. All their phones buzz at the same time, and they glance at each other nervously.

It's a news update.

Pipe burst spotted at Buckingham Palace amidst Queen's sudden illness. Royal family remains silent.

She looks back up to see the others' worried faces.

It's practically official.

Something terrible is going on here.

-

When they get back to the cabin, Henry goes to shower, and Alex goes to start dinner, and he really means to. Really.

But, while he's looking through the cupboards for pots (of which there are none) and pans (of which there are nine), he happens to find a cupboard full of marshmallows, Hershey's bars, and graham crackers.

He can't be blamed if he starts building the fire instead of building dinner. Besides, Cash is right there with him.

"This is damn good," the bodyguard says as he stretches his legs out in front of him. The man somehow isn't deathly sore even after hiking all day. "Where'd you find this stuff?"

Alex grins. "In one of the cupboards. None of it's even expired yet."

"Nice."

A few minutes later, Henry comes out of the cabin followed closely by David who immediately runs up to Alex to beg for food. Alex breaks off a piece of graham cracker for him.

"I thought you were making dinner," Henry says.

Alex waves his marshmallow stick at him. "I did."

Henry just laughs.

-

Bea Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor is having an absolutely wonderful time. After all, her least favorite person in the world may finally be doing her place justice, Bea and her sister-in-law are bonding for once over the general horribleness of said least favourite person, and she is currently watching her older brother run around like a chicken with its head cut off as a burst pipe that could very well be an act of terror destroys a centuries old palace.

"Then there was this one time before our wedding when she asked me how the weight loss was going," Martha says, rolling her glass through her fingers. "Mind you, I was underweight at the time from stress and could barely keep down crackers."

Bea rolls her eyes in sympathy. She may not have been particularly fond of her brother's chosen person at first, but she has since learned that the woman has depth, particularly since she started working with charities dedicated to lessening the impact of eating disorders.

"That's right, Philip, perhaps some paper towels will fix it," Bea calls when he emerges from the flooded side again with a roll of paper towels tucked under an arm. Martha giggles beside her, mimosa in one hand.

"I was trying to save an antique rug," he snipes. "Besides, I don't see you helping."

"The only thing that can help right now are sandbags and the world's best plumber." She sips her water while Martha questions Philip on the pipe, but Bea imagines the situation is much the same as it was an hour ago when they first heard the boom.

See, the pipe didn't simply burst. It exploded in one of the sitting rooms, creating a small geyser and a massive hole in the wall. Probably millions of dollars worth of old furniture had been destroyed, but thankfully nothing particularly important to history. The bigger problem is that it was still leaking. With minimal staff, it had been up to them to take care of it, and Bea had gladly allowed Philip to take the reins.

Now, though, looking at his damp hair and sad little roll of paper towels, she feels completely justified. It really is a hilarious situation they've gotten into.

She tunes back into Philip and Martha's conversation just in time to hear, "Any news on the Queen?"

Philip fidgets a bit, a sign of deep discomfort in a man made to go through prince training. "Mum said she's getting worse."

Shyly, he looks down, and Bea revisits a thought she had when they were first made aware of Mary's sudden ailment.

Her brother probably isn't taking the news as well as Bea, and he may actually be hurting at the idea of her death.

She swallows her pride and says, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Philip waves her away, face pinched. "You don't have to pretend for me. I'll be fine."

Strangely, Bea believes him, and one look at Martha tells her her sister-in-law feels the same way.

Just then, Princess Catherine emerges from a corridor to the left looking forlorn.

It's still odd for Bea to see her mother being an active participant in anything, and she almost feels bad that this is one of things Catherine has to return to. Her mother has been taking it remarkably well, though, almost as if she had been waiting for it since getting back in the game. Bea is actually quite proud of her.

Back in the present, they all stand, snapping to attention.

"How is she?" Philip asks.

Catherine sighs. "Much the same."

"Is her blood work back yet?"

"No. It seems whatever lab we're using is running every test imaginable, or they just haven't figured it out and don't want to tell us."

Bea decides to break in. "What did you come out here to tell us, Mum?" She's been in with Gran almost this whole time; something must be up.

Catherine sighs again. "An entire PPO team called in sick."

There are three identical noises of shock and outrage, and Bea says, "Do you think it could be related?"

She hadn't really believed the murder theory, but if their security is now partially out, it may be time to consider it.

"I don't know," Catherine says carefully.

Before she can continue, Philip says, "Of course it is. The Queen is dying, security is understaffed, and no one can contact Henry. It can't be a coincidence anymore."

"Not so fast," Catherine says, holding up a hand. "All of the ones that called out were contacted and are indeed visibly sick."

Bea wonders what that means. Perhaps an inspector went to each individual house and waited for them to vomit.

"Is that proof, though?" Martha asks nervously. "Could they not have been nefariously exposed? It seems an awful coincidence that both security and Her Majesty end up like this at the same time."

Bea has to take a moment to appreciate her sister-in-law using the word 'nefariously' in the same breath as calling the Queen 'Her Majesty,' the same woman she had described as an 'arrogant little shithead' not five minutes ago.

Philip nods. "Yes, exactly. If anything, this is just further proof of a plot regardless of the intentions of our PPOs."

This time, Catherine doesn't disagree, and Bea knows that they are well and truly screwed.