#chairback

[thetshirtlady]

Hot Off The Press! 🙏🏽🔥 🌱 We had the pleasure of creating Custom ChairBacks for @TylerPerry's new movie #MeaCulpa. Streaming now on @Netflix! #TheTShirtLady #Chairback #TylerPerry #Netflix https://TheTShirtLady.com

[hogans-heroes]

Drabble prompt:

Combining two prompts of Gale’s childhood and Gale flinching from Bucky because he smells like alcohol.

****

Bucky is several whiskeys and several more stories into the wee hours of the morning when he noticed Gale was curled up in a chair that was wedged in the corner, fast asleep despite the party that showed no signs of slowing down. One leg was pulled up into the seat and his head and arms were pillowed against the wall and chairback in such a way as to appear the corner had been chosen especially for this purpose. Even in sleep he looked far from peaceful, and the whispered fragments Gale had once told of his childhood trickled through Bucky’s mind. 

I’m scared of the dark. Or actually, being left alone in the dark

Dad would be out all hours of the night, all nights of the week. Gambling, drinking, getting in fights. Parties till dawn.

I can sleep anywhere, through any noise, it’s a good skill to have.

Bucky’s stomach turned, guilt blooming in his chest, and set his drink down.

“I’ll see you later fellas,” he said to no one in particular, and pushed his way through the ground to Gale’s side. He crouched down and shook the boy’s shoulder.

“Hey, Buck let’s–”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a violent flinch from Gale, shoving himself backwards and covering his head, and Bucky’s heart sank straight to the floor. He snatched his hands back and froze, holding his breath while Gale blinked at him with wide, bleary eyes until they focused and softened in recognition. 

“Bucky?” 

Bucky swallowed. “Yeah, it’s me. Ready to go?”

Gale nodded, rubbing his eyes like a toddler, and Bucky ached again. He helped Gale stand and ushered him out of the mess hall, grabbing a coffee on the way out. Even if it kept him up all night, it would help get rid of the smell of alcohol and the tense line of Gale’s shoulders as they walked back to their room, Bucky’s mind still racing.

Little Gale spent most nights being jolted out of sleep, shoved and dragged places, struck if he did something wrong or didn’t move fast enough. One time Gale was half asleep when he heard the betting grow louder, his dad running out of valuable things to wager. 

‘How ‘bout the kid?’ someone crowed. His dad laughed it off but for a second Gale had gone cold with terror. His dad had traded their car and some of their furniture before, did he really need a kid? 

Gale stumbled while stepping over the door frame, but caught himself before Bucky could help, then huffed a laugh and grinned sleepily. 

“M’tired,” he drawled, and the guilt in Buck’s stomach grew heavier. 

“We won’t stay out so late anymore,” he replied, but Gale shook his head.

“It’s alright, I know you like to party.”

“I like being with you more.” Never going to be the cause of that look again if I have anything to say, his mind screamed, but Gale only smiled up at him as he began to undress. He must have seen something in Bucky’s expression because he paused, frowning, and opened his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky rasped before he could say anything. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Gale shook his head. “Not your fault,” he said, pulling his pajama shirt over his head. “I was just startled when I woke up, smelled the alcohol, and…I don’t know. Instinct I guess.”

Bucky nodded. It made sense but didn’t do much to make him feel better. He looked down at himself, wondering if he still smelled of whisky.

“M’ gonna take a shower,” he murmured. 

Gale frowned again and moved closer, reaching out, but Bucky shook his head and took a step back. Gale’s face fell.

“John.”

Gale gripped Bucky’s arm, pulling him to his chest and wrapping his arms around him, but Bucky still tried to resist. He still smelled of alcohol, and he would die before he caused Gale any more suffering. 

“It’s ok and I mean it,” Gale murmured into Bucky’s neck. “I know you’d never hurt me. It’s not you I’m afraid of, ok? You’re the one who makes me feel safe.”

Pain shot through Bucky at the confirmation that Gale was afraid of something, someone, and he could only nod, not trusting his voice. Gale pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Bucky gave in, melting into the touch and wrapping his arms tight around Gale. He didn’t deserve that trust, but by god he’d try to live up to it.

[veranavera]

So fun fact, I actually recovered my phone I thought I had lost, and was able to salvage some (previously lost) pictures off of it, so, more than five months after climbing these mountains, here's parts 13-17 of me taking a trans pride flag up 131 mountains in the Northern Appalachians!!!

Couburn - 15/131:

Kibby - 17/131:

Boundary Bald - 16/131:

Big Moose - 14/131:

Chairback - 13a/131:

Number Three - 13c/131:

Number Two - 13b/131:

Barren - 13/131:

More nature photos!!!

Thanks for reading this far :)

[robthegoodfellow]

I Just Wanna Cheer

Crying, Creampie, Virginity Kink for Days 21/22/23 of @harringrovekinktober additional incidental use of sex toys, praise kink, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamic, role playing, you know the drill—now with emerging feminization kink

(roommates in love, kink experimentation, billy gets boinked, nsfw)

Handy Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 (kill me)

.

It was his own fault for trying to cancel on Robin again—having assumed, now that she knew about his and Billy’s fledgling thing, that she’d be more understanding of his needs.

But no.

Eyeroll audible over the phone, Robin had offered a different option. Just bring your boy toy along if it’s that much of a burden to leave his side. There was a loaded pause during which Steve scrambled to recall whether he’d told her that particular part of their fledgling thing, then she continued, blithe and cavalier. That is, if you can stand to keep your hands off each other’s dicks for a couple hours. Speaking over Steve’s choked bluster: It’ll be a struggle, I know. But I believe in you. Stay strong.

So he’d called Billy up after, risking Madam Manager’s ire for lingering too long on his lunch break, and caught him right before he left for class. Billy had gone quiet, digesting Steve’s rushed explanation—drinks at the Taproom around eight; you, me, and Robin—and then cleared his throat. Like, us all hanging out as friends? he asked. Or…? And Steve froze, wrongfooted. What—uh, whatever you want, he said, clumsy. She knows. I mean, not everything—just that we’re… uhm. Sorry? he added, wincing, and Billy mercifully jumped in, put him out of his misery. It’s fine. I’ve been talking to Heather about us. I needed someone to… He trailed off, and Steve breathed a sigh, grinning with relief as he nodded. Yeah. Me, too.

Billy had already showered and eaten when Steve got home—tilted his cheek for a drive-by kiss as Steve passed him huddled in the corner of the couch, psych notes open on his lap. Hadn’t moved even after Steve had finished stuffing his face, washing up. What should I wear? Steve called as he emerged from the bathroom, towel around his waist, and Billy glanced over—locked on Steve’s hand, the fisted terrycloth at his hip. Understandably, it took Steve a moment to absorb Billy’s reply: I was gonna ask you the same question.

And Billy—never asked Steve for fashion advice. Which meant he had something else in mind.

They were late meeting Robin.

.

“You live literally down the road,” she exclaimed when they arrived at the Taproom, flushed from power walking and also other things. Steve’s buttons were misaligned on his shirt, and Billy’s hair gave off the distinct impression of having just rolled out of bed. Distinct and—accurate.

“Couldn’t find my wallet,” Steve lied, gentle arm at Billy’s waist to guide him into a chair. 

Billy sat. Carefully.

“Well, I hope it turned up,” Robin said, unconvinced and unimpressed. “Because first round’s on you.”

“Long Islands for everyone?” He stooped, arms looped around Billy from behind, and—lightly pressed on his abdomen, encouraging him to lean against the chairback, relax from his prim perch. “Okay?” he basked, when his boy swallowed a whimper, red flooding his cheeks. Billy nodded, and Steve kissed his neck, the skin feverish under his lips. “Good.”

They explained away Billy’s spacey distraction easily enough—big psych test on Monday—but by the second round, with Billy shifting every minute, rocking in his seat ever so slightly, his eyes glassy, lips parted, Robin was growing concerned.

“You sure you feel alright?” she checked, then squinted. “Or feeling too alright?”

Steve cut in, scooched his chair alongside Billy’s, their legs flush under the table.

“He hasn’t been sleeping well,” he said, drawing Billy to slump against him, corralling with the comforting palm on his shoulder. “You need to go home, babe?”

Billy huffed, hearing the subtle taunt. You give up? Give in?

“M’good,” he insisted, wagging his head. Unseeing, unblinking, he fumbled for his glass. Tossed back the rest, ice cascading toward his mouth. He slouched into Steve’s touch, crunching cold loud between his molars. Hidden, insinuated a hand around Steve’s thigh and underneath—cinching him close. If he traced upward not too far, he’d bump the bulge straining Steve’s zipper. One glance at Billy’s lap revealed he was in even worse shape: a patch of wet seeping through pale blue denim. “Robin’s turn to buy.”

.

Lucky for them, Robin caught the eye of the Gina Gershon type behind the bar—got her number, the promise of a good time after her shift—and around the fifth or sixth round, Robin went to fetch tequila shots and never came back. 

Sloppy steps to the exit, clinging to each other’s waists, and the muggy summer night welcomed them to the sidewalk, chatter and cheesy pop muffled beyond the door. 

They cut a crooked path toward the apartment, breathy silence broken by the odd chuckle or hum, speech smothered by the pulsing weight of expectation that had settled all around.

They were going home, and Steve was gonna fuck him. Shove inside, push to the root and hammer his hips until he spilled, until the swollen hole oozed white, until he—

Billy was whining in short throaty bursts by the time they reached the stairwell, stumbling now and then, relying on Steve to half-haul him up the last flight. Please he mumbled, the moment their door clicked, and Steve wasn’t sure where the surge of macho muscle came from, but next thing he knew he’d hefted a clinging koala into his arms, gripping just below the ass, striding to his bedroom, wet lips mouthing Steve’s neck with every step.

Part of him wanted to throw Billy down, watch him bounce on the mattress, but he didn’t—or he would, but not now, not when his good boy had been squirming for so long, desperate to wring some relief from the toy wedged snug. No, he lowered him gentle onto his back, lovely legs hugging Steve’s hips, dangling off the bed—Billy’s hips lifting the moment fingers fumbled at his button, tugged at his zip.

The lube was within reach, right where they’d left it, when they’d overindulged before rushing out the door, Steve slicking up the small plug and working it in, pulling a new pair of pale pink panties up long, bronzed legs, then selecting a pair of jeans, a tank cut so low around the neck, hanging loose about the ribs, that it barely covered his nipples. 

Steve had taken it upon himself to carefully tuck the front of the tank into the waist of his jeans, the way Billy liked, and now took it upon himself to untuck, pushing the tank up as he yanked the jeans down, fingers hooked in a back pocket. 

He left the jeans balled below Billy’s knees, allowing them to part wide and meanwhile keep his ankles tied. Bending low, Steve ran his nose along the obscene jut of cock beneath sticky satin, breathed heat through the fabric—pressed his face into Billy’s crotch when he writhed, moaning.

“Here’s what I want,” Steve said, peering up—a strange vantage point: the heaving hills and valleys of Billy’s abs, his pecs, the underside of a tilted chin, the shifting rise of biceps, arms flung above his head. “I want to pull down the back of your panties. Check my good boy is ready for me.”

“Ready,” Billy panted, hardly more than a wheeze. “M’ready, ready. Please.”

“Haven’t gone past the middle plug,” Steve told him, all regret—as though breaking it to him gently, and Billy sobbed. “But,” he went on, shushing, sneaking to fondle the base of the plug through silky smooth pink, cup the shivering curves of his ass. “You promise to tell me if you want to stop, and I’ll fuck you now. Fill you up. And if it’ll make my good boy happy, we’ll plug him up after. No leaking.” Billy was begging under his breath, babbling yes, please—please, yes. “Promise?” Steve prompted, reaching for the lube as he sat up, propped against the edge of the mattress.

Billy promised, tears already eeking down his temples, wetting his hair. Steve watched them drip as he slicked his fingers—used his dry hand to inch the panties down, the front drawn taut as the back pulled, clearing the rise of Billy’s ass to sit bunched below.

He didn’t tease his boy too much: traced up to stroke the stiff heat straining satin, brush the twitching length with his thumb, then drifted back down to caress the protruding flat of glass. One mild tug, and it slipped free on a gasp. He let it thunk on the carpet at his feet.

The hole that kissed blind fingertips was still fluttering from the sudden loss—seemed to suck him in, inflamed greed, taking two easy, then three. Billy’s face was twisted, eyes closed, his lashes wet, hips grinding into the touch as though searching, feeling his way in the dark. A whine puffed past slack lips, desperate—almost forlorn.

“Okay,” Steve breathed. Withdrew, grappling clumsy for the lube, slicking his cock where it bobbed by the bedspread, trailing drool. “Okay, baby.”

His forearm hooked shaking thighs, dragged Billy closer, ass almost hanging off the bed. Steve gripped himself mid-shaft, thumbing the crown, and nudged forward, catching on the rim that still seemed too small, impossibly small.

Billy sighed, set one hand on Steve’s forearm, the cross bar holding him steady—coasted down the arm to link their hands, and Steve bowed his head, suddenly swamped. Just—overwhelmed.

He pushed, steady pressure, and it was like with the plug, where resistance caved to a gobbling grip. Pushed and the slicked crown was swallowed up by clenching heat. Paused to breathe, a returning squeeze to their linked hands, then sank further—this stuttering plow that deepened with the duet of stuttering breaths.

Steve was lost in it, so consumed by the sensory influx—the salty musk of sweat and precome, the lungs bellowing in his ears, the thundering throb of his pulse where they were joined, where they were holding on, nerves alight, a smolder about to catch and roar—so consumed that when he bottomed out, flush with Billy’s ass, he kept going, rocking into him, lifting, Billy’s knees curling toward his chest, where the flimsy tank still lay, askew.

“Good?” Steve asked, throaty, and Billy’s eyes rolled in his head as he laughed, weak, lips barely hitched. Slowing, Steve circled the rim that clutched him, as though measuring—assessing. Feathered his touch from thin skin smooth and slick to the peach fuzz of Billy’s ass check, tickling, and grunted as the convulsive clench. “Fast or slow?”

His boy didn’t answer with words—maybe couldn’t—just a bobblehead, like Fast? Yes. Slow? Yes. Yes. Yes. So Steve gave him both, grinding into him torturous slow, adjusting until he nailed the spot that made Billy squirm and mewl, then let loose. Jackhammered, and when Billy's blushing wet cockhead peeked from the pink frilly waistband, smearing his abs, Steve smirked, mindless except for one driving thought: I want to feel him come on my cock.

Reaching down, unsteady, Steve tucked him back out of sight. Stroked him lightly as he said it: “Cream your panties for me, Billy.”

And god, Steve loved to watch him lose it beneath him, give in, crack open, but to feel it from inside...

Milking me, he thought, jaw slack, launched into sweet blue nothing. Fucking milking me.

Barely caught himself from faceplanting with an arm made of noodle, panting fit to die. The sweet blue nothing blinked at him—so pretty, heavy-lidded.

All Steve could do for the moment was blink back.

.

You knew you had it good when waking life was indistinguishable from a wet dream. The hazy cloud of ecstasy that lured Steve from sleep in the wee hours of the morning resolved into recent memory as he squinted, absorbing the smells of Billy embedded in the sheets—registering the absence of Billy’s sounds. His warmth. Steve pawed at his eyes, unsure whether the emerging snapshots, burning to the touch, were real or fantasy.

…Billy, after Steve had emptied into him, placidly rolling onto his stomach, presenting his ass for inspection upon request—humming long and low at the probing touch where he was swollen, pucker red and shining. A more insistent prod, and a pearl of white bloomed.

Distantly, he heard water running in the pipes. Billy—in the bathroom?

Middle of the bed, Steve had murmured. Lay on your tummy. And Billy army-crawled to obey, his ankles shackled by the mess of denim. Steve opted to leave them for the time being.

Billy had dropped flat with a whooshing sigh, head fenced by sprawling arms, legs akimbo, and Steve crawled to lie alongside, propped on an elbow. For a while, he just studied that face—the rosy cheeks, the pink lips gently curled in blissed satisfaction, eyelashes dark and clumped from tears. 

Need anything? Steve asked, quietly mesmerized, brushing back a lock of tawny hair. Or want? One blue eye had cracked open, bleary, exhausted. And yet—his hips twitched, bare ass still exposed, satin shoved low. He wanted Steve to keep his promise: no leaking. 

Steve’s bedroom door creaked open, and moments later the mattress dipped under a heavy form, blankets shifting as Billy settled.

“You okay?” Steve asked, voice scratchy. Half-awake, he rolled, slinging his arm around Billy’s back.

Billy yawned an incoherent confirmation. “Took care of business.”

Steve traced to the base of his spine, absently curious, and ran a finger down his crack. No plug. “All clean?”

“Mhmm.” Arching, Billy pressed into his touch, then resettled with a tired chuckle. “So you can mess me up again.”

Steve snorted—gripped an asscheek, meaning to claim a squeeze before he withdrew. But then… he forgot to do that last part. Drifted off still fondling Billy’s butt.

.

To make up for the delayed festivities due to socializing the night before, they’d resolved to shack up all of Saturday. A few hours of drinks sets us back, what—three or four orgasms? Steve estimated, and Billy had scoffed, let out a loud Hah! For you, maybe. At which Steve had swooped in, herding him against the wall to nip at his throat. I’m sorry—was that a complaint? Shivering, tilting his chin for more, Billy clung to his ribs. No. No complaints.

Which is why Steve was a little put out to realize he’d slept until nine—that Billy had let him, moreover, because the rest of the bed was cold and empty.

And then the buttery cinnamon sugar hit him upside the head, beckoned him upright, nose in the air. Heard the telltale clinks and thunks of Billy puttering at the stove, and couldn’t help but smile. 

Smiled while he pulled on some sweatpants, a worn tee. Smiled as he brushed his teeth, took a piss. Washed his hands. Smiled as he wandered to the kitchen, itching to wrap his good boy up tight, kiss his neck, his cheeks—

The smile didn’t slip, but it… froze solid, along with the rest of him, at the vision that greeted him: Billy halted in front of the fridge, limned in morning sunlight.

Billy with his hair piled atop his head in a messy bun, wearing one of those close-fitting crop tops that he knew drove Steve crazy. His gaze dropped to the rumpled tube socks, trailed up the bronzed curves of his calves, his thighs—to the green pleated hem. Of the skirt.

The cheerleading skirt. The cheerleading skirt that Billy was wearing, in the kitchen. That he had worn while baking cinnamon buns. And making coffee.

Steve had completely flatlined, but all it took was a puff of sound—a nervous muffled squeak of a thing—and his attention swung to Billy’s face. To Billy’s bottom lip, drawn between his teeth. To Billy’s big blue eyes, slanted brows. Hopeful, but—uncertain.

“What—?” Steve tried, shaking his head, and at least tacked a grin to his bafflement. “How…?”

“Borrowed it,” Billy said, fidgeting. Cautious smile. “From Heather.”

Bless Heather for all eternity. Forever and ever. Amen. 

“You look—” He couldn’t seem to move, but that was fine. Billy was coming to him—a certain slink to his stride. Steve rallied. “You look—so good. So, so, so—”

Billy set his hands on Steve’s waist, toying with the thin cotton. “I was thinking we could play… like we did that time with the spies? Only…”

His good, good, genius boy.

“Only… jock and cheerleader?” Steve finished, and Billy ducked, bashful—except not his usual bashful, but extra bashful, like he was putting on a show, like he was… a blushing, bashful, virginal little—

Billy leaned up. Kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and sweet. Instinctive, Steve palmed the back of his head, fingers buried in blond, and pulled him flush.

“You wanna be my good girl today?” he whispered, lips brushing Billy’s cheek—pressed a kiss there when Billy nodded. “Whatcha wearing under that skirt, babe?”

Billy giggled—quiet and flirty. “Breakfast first.”

Steve nipped his ear. “And then a snack?”

“Down, boy,” Billy scolded, swatting his arm. He turned and walked away—the sway deliberate, as confirmed by the cheeky wink thrown over his shoulder.

.

Now with next chapter: He Loves Me, Loves Me, Loves Me

[paul-cezanne-paintings]

-Still Life Apples, a Bottle and Chairback-

[msbhagirathi]

Word Prompt "Colly wobbles" for the IPK 13th Anniversary Fiesta by @arshifiesta.

Character: Kaveri Khushi Gupta, Arnav Varun a.k.a AV

FF: A River Runs Through It

Author: meera30

Reason: Coz I am in love with this ff right now. Now stop finding reasons and read on.

Khushi didn't know how did he do it. It was freezing cold outside in Detroit and here was the man in question giving out a presentation which he had prepared ~in merely five minutes~ before the meeting had to be started urgently.

Clad in a crisp white shirt rolled up to his forearms, the angry gash visible just as a slip of cut, the jacket and the waistcoat already lying on the chairback. Tie hanging a lil bit loose from its usual place. Shiny charcoal colored trousers hugged his legs like a second skin. Yet, he looked as fresh and energetic as ever.

Illegal.

How can he be so perfect?

Why did I of all people had to fall for him?

She knew that her being physically bulky had nothing to do with who she fell in love with. And yet she felt a bit wretched for having fallen for such a personification of perfection.

Sometimes, she didn't know which one was more comforting? To have been immune from his charm and just keeping to herself in college or having badly fallen for him strong enough to keep away all the strangers she had met just so she could forget that one man. And yet, the 'date other men to forget him' idea was as terrible as it sounded.

As she could go no further then two minutes of looking at them and instantly comparing them to him. She knew she was being horribly desperate. But then anyone would be if the man in question was the subject of discussion...

She started scribbling an insignia (for the umpteenth time) in her notepad which she had used earlier to jot down the good points.

"Ms. Gupta. Its good that you are at least concentrating on something but I would much rather that something to be nothing but this presentation."

Arnav Varun was looking at her with that knowing smile as if he had found a key to a mystery puzzle he was looking for. His glasses gleaming at an angle.

Embarrassed at being in the wrong side, Khushi immediately changed the page and looked up at the projector screen.

"Sorry sir."

Did he know?

Had he seen her drawing his name initials in her notepad with such an interest?

What was with that smile?

And yet now he continued with his presentation as if nothing had happened. Voice unflinching and firm. Emanating an authority. An air of importance.

Hey shivji! Why do I have to be the one target that you are never tired of playing with?

The gravel in his voice still used to send chills down her spine in a good way of course.

"Okay everyone that would be it for now. If I happen to have something else I would be calling all of you back. Please be ready for more impromptu meetings this week. If anyone has any questions please do ask or you're free to leave, thank you for your attention."

Khushi gingerly raised up from her chair praying to let her go to a certain someone sitting in the Kailash parvat with his wife who loved creating sweet troubles for her in situations like these. She quickly wanted to slip away along with the rest of the others.

But, Arnav Varun didn't let that happen. He looked up from his laptop at her.

Please don't tell me to stay back.

Please tell me the one thing I am yearning to hear from you for half a decade now.

Please let me go.

Please stop me and kiss me.

Hey shivji! She might have as well become a lunatic by now.

She was about to leave when..

"Khushi.."

She turned back only to find him sitting at his chair relaxed. All tension and seriousness gone with everyone else from the room. He sipped his glass of chilled water.

There was something in this man that made her feel at peace and nervous at the same time.

"Yes sir."

She heard the sound of her voice which shivered slightly.

Don't get the wrong idea okay? I am DEFINITELY NOT scared of you.

"No 'sir' please, just AV, when we are alone."

"Okay.. AV.'

He smiled.

"Show me your notepad once Khushi."

NO. PLEASE NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

'Uhh.. I am in need of it urg-"

"Yeah yeah I know you need it I had seen you noting down points in it. But please I assure you I don't eat paper and I would return it within a few sec. Please?"

Khushi very hesitantly held it out and before he could open it to her eternal mortification and second hand embarrassment, Arjun's name came flashing out on her mobile screen.

A whole wave of relief hit her whole being as she excused herself to pick it up as an important call, leaving behind all her things in the room.

After fifteen minutes when she came back to her cabin she realized she had left all her things in the meeting room. She was about to sprint back to the room. When she spotted her things: her laptop bag, her water bottle and her notepad neatly sitting in the center of her desk.

At lunch break, she entered the cafeteria and already found the whole team along with (of course) AV himself sitting at the corner-most booth. She walked up and sat at the chair two seats away from him. She saw his phone lying on the table.

Suddenly it came alive with a notification and she saw the lock screen. A sprawly drawing. Careless strokes of blue ball point pen. Carved into the paper on a ruled page which seemed familiar.

An insignia, which she had scribbled on her notepad, out of boredom, sitting in the meeting room, a few hours ago. She couldn't believe her eyes.

Heat rushed to her ears and a slow blush crept onto her face and refused to go away. She couldn't believe the fact that Arnav Varun had taken a click of her drawing and set it as the lock screen on his phone.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him check the notification and quickly closed off the screen, checking if anyone else noticed it or not and went back to the conversation going on.

Khushi couldn't pull out the image of her insignia on his phone screen. Her mind kept replaying the image and she couldn't stop herself from blushing. Her body had gone into over-drive. Her heart was fluttering. Her hands and legs felt shaky. Her palms felt clammy. Warmth surrounding her face and neck and the rest of her body. Her stomach was in colly-wobbles.

Hey shivji, please, I must be looking like an idiot. Please help me staaaap this blushing, my cheeks are hurting now. Uff. Stupid AV. Stupid me.

[owlofthemountain]

I have plenty of ideas with Rolan these times so here's another one. This may be part of a larger fanfic or not.

This is a Rolan x reader.

This is mostly a sweet moment with Rolan being Rolan, and you trying to help him.

On your way to defeat the Absolute in Baldur's Gate, you had searched for spell scrolls in Sorcerous Sundries. What a suprise when you saw Rolan, his face marked by bruises. As proud as he is, he told you that this was nothing when you asked, but there was a breaking in his voice that left no doubt. You had to help him, to heal him.

In the end of the day, you came back to the magical shop, alone. Rolan was still here, at the counter, organizing some tomes. He didn't notice you right away, his glowing yellow eyes looking at a particularly enormous book.

" Hello " you simply said, trying to hide your restlessness.

" You, again. " He said, rolling his eyes. " What do you want ? "

" I just want to help you, Rolan. "

" I don't need your help. "

You knew that it would be difficult. The tiefling was hard to convince, and even if he was softer since you saved his siblings in Moonrise towers, he still had his temper. You sighed.

" I heal your wounds, and after I leave. I won't ask any more questions. "

His glare was doubtful. He put the tome on the desk and touched his cheek carefully. You noticed a slight expression of pain on his face, the way his eyebrows frowned at his touch. He looked behind you : the last customers were leaving, only the librarian was still here, muttering to her books.

" Right, I'll let you heal me. But I don't want to see you again after this. " he said in a harsh tone.

" As you wish. "

He gestured you to follow him. You climbed the stairs, and he stopped in front of a door on the side. You looked at him, as he opened it with a spell. It is a very neat room, nothing is untidy, except for a desk with papers. He showed you two red chairs, you sit on it as he's going on the one in front of you.

" Let's be done " he said, watching on the side.

You didn't wait to start. His bruises were not the worst you have seen, still it pained you to know that he had them. You touched his cheek carefully. He tried not to move, but he frowned a second. You casted the healing spell, the green light flowing from your hand to his face, and the bruises disappeared. Rolan put his hand on his face again, and he seemed relieved.

" Here it is. " you said.

Rolan didn't answered. He was watching at the window, lost in his thoughts, his hand still feeling his no longer wounded face. The sun was going down, and the room was getting darker. His glowing yellow eyes turned to you.

" Master Lorroakan will kill me if he find you here. "

You got up suddenly. You had to leave, for Rolan's sake. But you can't help but be worried about him.

" Are you sure that you don't need help ? "

" You're stubborn, aren't you ? "

His gaze went down, looking at his clawed hands, and his tail was swinging behind him. He cleared his throat.

" He won't come early today, he's at a wizard meeting. "

" What do you mean ? "

" I still have study to do, but if someone wanted to keep an eye on me like I'm a little kid needing his mother, she could. "

" Do you want me... To stay ? A bit longer than planned ? " you hesitated.

" Maybe " he muttered. " But you have to be gone before I have to go, in other words before the sun's rise. "

You smiled. He sat in front of his desk, and he began to pile up the papers. You watched him closely, his back facing you. You could look at him for hours, and you hadn't the chance to do it until now. He took his forehead in left hand, while he was writing with the other. The sun was nearly completely went down. You wondered how he was working like that, then you saw his eyes glowing in the night. You rest yourself on the comfortable chairback, and soon you fell asleep.

When you woke up, it was completely dark. You were laying in the bed, a blanket on you. Rolan was still working. He heard you move and shot a quick glance.

" You can keep on sleeping. Until I wake you with a thunderwave. "

" Don't. " you said, still half asleep.

You heard him chuckle. He got up, and you saw that he hadn't his usual robe anymore, it was more... casual. Pants, with a large shirt, revealing the beginning of his chest. He sat on the edge on the bed, his tail wrapped around his leg.

"Aren't you tired of helping me ? " he told you, in a teasing tone.

" I'm tired of my adventures " you answered, yawning.

He laid besides you, his face facing yours. You tensed in surprise. You remarked that his hair were a bit undone, his tied locks falling loosely on each side of his face.

" You're insufferable, you know. With your perfect face, your perfect hair. You perfect smile. "

His hair gave him a mischievous air, matching with his snarky tone. You tried not to breath faster, but the situation didn't help.

" I'm surprised that you haven't show you perfect little laugh yet. The one you had when you watched me drowning myself at the inn. "

" This doesn't make me laugh, Rolan. I assume you're too blind to see when people are just wishing you well. "

He chuckled. You felt his breath on your skin, your nose barely touching his.

" I don't know why I love you. " he said in a whisper.

He put his hand on your cheek. You could hear his tail wagging, making soft rustles on the ground. He didn't seem to care, his eyes on yours, stunned by his gesture. You took his hand in yours, softly stroking it. He smiled. A real smile, not a smirk. You watched his parted lips, while he caressed yours with his thumb. He spreaded you lower lip, biting his. He kissed you. It was so soft, that you could have melted. The following was deeper, needier. His tail wrapped around your waist, pushing you closer to him, as you put your arms around his neck. He came above you, one of his leg between yours. You could feel his hair on your face, you could smell his scent perfectly, while his lips were against yours. He broke suddenly your heated kiss.

" Not... Not now... Not here... " he breathed loudly.

He laid on his side in your arms, his tail around your leg. You put your head on his hot chest, you heard his heart beating fast, really fast, while he was gently caressing your back.

Before the sun rose, you weren't wake up by a thunderwave. In fact, you woke up before Rolan, seeing his red face still in slumber. You kissed him, and left him. Soon you'll come back, to save him again.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

jojo why do smiley and hanma's bike have a high chairback with stuff written on it? i'm assuming it's a thing for division captains (+hanma cs kisaki is a baby and doesn't have a bike) but what is written on them?😭

I think the chair is just because they usually/ were expecting to carry people. Hanma seems to pretty much always drive Kisaki around and Smiley as a captain may have a division member or two that doesn't drive. I have no idea what the words say though. If anyone else does know and wants to jump in then feel free!

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 8

Alright, here we go, continuing what might be (rip) the longest day of Xaeryn's life for my @shepherds-of-haven 20's AU. (And a big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for code diving for me again <3)

Wordcount: 8,350~

---

Xaeryn's knee-jerk instinct was to correct 'abducted, not kidnapped'. As if that made a lick of difference to the fact Red was gone because someone had taken him.

Closely on its heels came Sun above, this is my fault. It wasn't as if Red was involved with anything else that had even a sliver of a chance to put him in danger; it had to be the research he was doing for her, or something else related to the case.

She shook off both thoughts and made herself focus. Panic wouldn't help Red. Her detective skills might. Would. "Could I see his office?"

Pan gave her a concerned look--probably heard the slight break in her voice. "Xaer, are you...?"

"Crying about it won't find him any faster," she said brusquely, squaring her shoulders. "But if those responsible" --for abducting him--"left any clues, especially if there's something I could use to help scrying..."

He nodded, an understanding gleam in his eye. "I think security's done and didn't find anything to make them suspicious, but you deal with this sort of thing more than they do, so if you wanna take a gander..."

He gestured toward the office, then followed a pace or two behind her, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. He didn't say anything and let her take in the scene.

It looked the same, roughly, as the last time she'd visited, just sans one tall, charming headmaster to greet her with an easy smile and warm green eyes. It almost offended her that Red's office looked the same without him in it, which was silly.

But it looked the same. There were no signs of a struggle or a fight.

Xaeryn traced a finger along the edge of the desk, smiling slightly at the trio of books half on top of each other, the stack of six more haphazard next to the chair, the charcoal grey suit jacket hanging off one corner of the chairback. It was the sort of space she could guess belonged to Red Antiqua without ever seeing him in it.

The books open on the desk were familiar ones; Jalis desert tribes, pre-Castigation artefacts. The research he'd offered to recompile for her. She stared at the desk and chairs for a long moment.

"... a girl does need a job eventually, and I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Or even a bad one..."

She didn't like how hard it was to focus on the task at hand; she was behind the eight ball enough without getting distracted by their bull sessions here over the past sennight--

She straightened.

"Ryn? You need to leave?" Pan asked.

Xaeryn shook her head. "I'm fine," she said, voice steady. "There are books on the chairs."

"Yeah, that's Red for you." Pan shot her a questioning look. "You know the man's borderline incapable of putting away books he 'might need later', even if later turns out to be two months down the road."

She couldn't help a small laugh. "No, I do know that. The books are still on the chairs. Whoever took him didn't try to be chummy and draw out their visit. When he has company that's staying, he moves the books so they have somewhere to sit. So this was quick in and out, no signs of struggle, and they didn't try to play coy. This was a mission."

God help her, it was hard to stay and sound detached about this.

"Well, night watchman says he didn't hear or see anything odd and he's always been honest and faithful in doing his rounds. He does stay on the first floor, though, as there's no other access to up here than the lobby, and there's another watchman outside." Pan crossed his arms, looking thoughtfully around the office. "So either they knew his schedule, got blazing lucky, or... didn't come through downstairs."

"If they didn't come through downstairs, maybe they had a Traveler," Xaeryn mused. "But it would be a gamble to translocate into an unfamiliar space as small as an office." She frowned.

"Maybe they just scaled the outside of the building," Pan suggested. "Wouldn't take more than an hour of waiting to gauge the outside watchman's rounds."

"And figuring out which window would be unlocked?" Xaeryn countered, just to see how far they could follow this possibility.

Pan's eyes narrowed, and he swore under his breath before darting down the hall. She arched a brow at the abrupt departure and resumed examining the room until he returned.

"The corner office," he said, scowling. "It's unoccupied right now, so we use it when we need a break. Sela's always smoking charch in there, and then Bart opens the window to get the smell out but he never remembers to close it all the way. And if the door's mostly shut, you wouldn't see it from the hall. Hael."

"Even if we accept that theory for how they got in, how would they make a clean sneak with Red?" she pointed out. "He'd either be struggling or..." she wrinkled her nose at the phrasing even as she said it. "...dead weight."

Pan ran a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck, and eventually shook his head. "Search me."

Xaeryn mulled it over for a bit, looking at the other books on Red's desk, smiling at the scraps of paper sticking out to mark pages. "What if... both idea are right? They came in through the window, but translocated out? Their hideout would be a familiar destination, thus safe to Travel to. It's an effective way to get an... unwilling or unconscious companion somewhere without much fuss."

"That means there probably were only one or two of them..." Pan sighed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "I offered to help him. With getting things together for you. I already know some of the details and I can keep my mouth shut. He said it was fine; this sort of thing is fun. B'sides, it wasn't like he minded doing it for you--"

Her heart squeezed. "He said that?"

"No, but, Xaer" --Pan arched a brow at her-- "I know both of you well enough to read between the lines."

She couldn't argue that. "How many times do I have to remind you you can call me Red?"

"Anyway, if I'd stayed, and there were only a couple of these toughs, maybe... maybe it would be an attempted kidnapping."

Xaeryn shook her head. "Depends how badly they wanted him." Her conversation with Briony and Darius was too fresh in her mind. "You might also be hurt or dead, and that's the last thing he'd want. Or that I want."

"Good point." He sucked the inside of his cheek. "Why would someone want Red that badly, Xaeryn? Is this... because of your case?"

"I think so." She winced. "I just don't know what part of his involvement would make him an appealing target." She hugged her arms in close against her chest. "If it was something specific or just because we were seen together and the people I'm after thought taking him would... hurt me."

They weren't wrong.

"I don't want to know all of what's going on, Ryn," Pan sighed, "but if that's the case, these sound like some pretty nasty brunos to mess with."

"They are." No point sugarcoating it.

Pan didn't reply, just leaned against the wall sucking his teeth as he watched her.

Xaeryn circled the desk again, hoping desperately for something that would be a clue or--

A curling corner of notebook paper peeked out from under one of the open books on the desk. She shifted the tomes aside and found a whole sheaf, covered front and back in sprawling notes. He'd even written in their shorthand, which made a small smile tug her lips despite the circumstances.

"He got a lot down," she muttered under her breath, the familiar shorthand making something twist in her chest. I hope you're okay.

"Yeah, I think he foisted his class on someone else so he could just work on this all day." Pan pushed off the wall and approached. "Not a shocking twist."

Xaeryn looked up from the paper, brow furrowed but didn't rise to the bait.

Pan, however, was undeterred. He sat back on the edge of the desk, giving her a skeptical look. "You two have always been thick as thieves, but it made him a special kind of dizzy to have you come waltzing back into our lives, y'know."

The twist in her chest went tighter. "I didn't know, actually. But it's always wonderful to reunite with old friends."

"Uh-huh. Old friends." Pan studied his nails a moment, then looked back at her with brows arched. "And what happened between you old friends the night of the gala to make him not say a gods-blessed word the whole way back to the hotel?"

Her fingers tightened, crinkling the paper. "That doesn't seem like a relevant line of inquiry, Panrachus," she said, gaze fixed on the page before her.

"It is to me," he countered with a knowing smile. "Maybe something in there relates to why he got nabbed."

She didn't like that thought. Even more than she disliked Pan's prying. "Nothing happened at the gala."

"And after?" Pan asked pointedly.

"...I might do something dreadfully improper."

"Also nothing." It came out sharper than intended. Thanks to your timing. Xaeryn cleared her throat. "Beyond what you already knew; I got jumped on my way back and Red helped patch up the result of defending myself." She waved the bandaged hand as proof. "I'm glad he was there; it would've been a nightmare to do alone."

"Mm-hm."

She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Why do I feel like you don't believe me?"

"I dunno." Pan gave her a look that spoke volumes. "Do you feel like part of it shouldn't be believed?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Nothing. Happened."

"Alright, I believe you," he shrugged. A beat. "Did you want it to?"

The whole messy torrent of emotions she been damming up since that night surged in her chest. God help me, yes.

She was saved from a moment of naked vulnerability by something gleaming on the desk, down among the books and paper. She dug for it and came up with an earring, amber bead transfixed on a small gold hoop.

"Hello there," she murmured, cradling the jewelry in her palm. "Last I checked, Red wasn't one for earrings."

Pan shook his head. "And he's the only one who's been in this office since we got back from Haven..."

There was always the chance it came from a student who'd visited prior to that, but it was the only lead she'd found. Xaeryn did not want to dwell on what she'd do it it was a dead end. If it was her fault he'd been abducted, the least she could do was save him, too.

No time like the present, she told herself, and with a deep breath sat in Red's chair. Part of her would rather have her full focus for a scry, but she didn't want to wait the two hours it would take to drive home. There was a driving, itching need to do something now. She pulled out the small bronze dish from her handbag. Scrying with so small a focus would give her a fearsome headache, but she didn't care if it let her find Red.

Pan watched from the other side of the desk, lapsed into anxious silence.

Alright, you bastard. Her hand curled around the earring. Where are you?

Scrying on the present was like sticking her head in a shallow pond to see what was on the bottom--blurry or shadowed at the edges, but she could pick up the detail she was after.

This time, however, was like trying to dive into a frozen lake.

She could see the potential for a vision, but slammed into something that blocked her from reaching it. Dead air.

Xaeryn broke the attempted scry, heedless of the dull ache starting at her temples. "No, no, no..." she mumbled, looking around the room.

"Xaer?"

"It didn't work," she said sharply. At least that confirmed the earring didn't come from a random Solhadur student, but that wasn't worth beans if she couldn't use it to find him.

Her gaze lighted on the jacket hanging off his chair and she seized it, fingers curling in the charcoal grey fabric as the smell of dusty books and his cologne filled her nose. She stared fiercely at the scrying focus, daring it not to work.

Dead air, again.

Her heart lodged in her throat and she tried to push it back down. Think this through logically, Xaeryn. It can't be coincidence, this implies it is indeed the people who have the Torch--Kaza and his allies--who took Red. They clearly have a VERY good Binder laying wards. Maybe Neon would know something; Pan said he's working in Haven now, I could ask--

"-ryn." From Pan's tone he'd repeated her name a few times at this point.

"I can't see him, either," she admitted, numb at having to say the words aloud.

"So... what next, then?"

What, indeed. There had to be something else. Something she could do, someone she could talk to. She couldn't be powerless, not now, not for this. She fought the desperation tightening her chest. Calm. Panic will only cloud your mind, and how will you help if you aren't thinking straight? It took a few moments of sitting in silence, absently rubbing the fabric of Red's jacket between her fingers as she forced herself to follow her advice.

"Well," she finally began, "given I got the same result attempting to look for Liefred or the earring's owner as I do for Solimer's Torch, it's likely they're together. It's the only times I've had this happen when I scry, so I feel it's a logical assumption. I have Thieves Guild in Haven keeping an eye out for unusual activity in Ashtown--the most likely hiding place for these hooligans. I can see if they noticed anything since I last spoke to them. Having a..." Hostage? prisoner? "...person to stash in the same building might've stirred some some activity."

"All the way back in Haven?!"

"That is where my prime suspect currently resides," she pointed out. "And I have an appointment with a pair likewise working against him; maybe they saw something helpful if the Guild didn't."

Pan sucked his teeth a moment, then cracked a small, wry smile. "Red would have a heart attack if he knew you'd made a deal with a Thieves Guild."

"He can fuss over my choices til he's blue in the face, long as it means he's safe," she retorted, pushing to her feet. "I'll ring with updates, do you have a direct number?" She scribbled it sideways up Red's notes as Pan rattled it off, collected her scrying focus to tuck that and the earring in her handbag. Maybe later she'd have better results than just a headache.

"Maybe I should come with you. Just back to Haven."

Xaeryn shook her head, resting a hand on Pan's arm. "Just in case the security teams figure something important, if you're here you can pass it along."

His expression said he saw through the excuse to keep him somewhere safe, but he nodded. "Fine."

"I'll be in touch," Xaeryn promised. She hesitated to return the suit jacket. "Do you think he'd mind if I keep this? To try again later."

"Not a drop," Pan said, shaking his head. "Find him, Xaer. And be safe, huh? I don't want to lose one friend, let alone two."

She nodded, not pointing out those request may well turn out mutually exclusive, and headed for her car.

---

Her head was awhirl the whole drive home, but she didn't have time to puzzle it out--or speak to Thieves Guild--when she got back. She was cutting it close on making her meeting with Briony and Darius. One-God willing, they'd know something that would help tie King Kaza to Red's abduction, or at least gotten something pointing to where he had stashed the Torch.

Xaeryn parked, made a brief visit to her office to lock the notes and earring in her desk, and headed briskly for the meeting. She turned the corner just in time to catch a flash of green hair as Darius ducked into the curiosities shop.

While smart not to visit the café so soon, especially since he and Briony rather stood out as customers, it made Xaeryn wish she'd warned them of the shop proprietor's eccentricities. Chandry was harmless but... off-putting to some, and Darius didn't seem the type to handle off-putting well.

But she had bigger concerns now. Xaeryn took a deep breath as she pulled open the door, but there was only so much her nerves were willing to ease.

Darius wasn't immediately visible when she entered, but he found her quickly enough. "You look riled, miss lady detective."

Xaeryn flashed a flat look for his tone. "It's warranted. Where's Briony?"

He craned his neck to look around the store. "Either on her way, or I guess she couldn't breeze on his majesty." His eyes narrowed. "You don't look happy 'bout that. What's tricks?"

She looked down, pretending to browse the curiosities on offer. "A friend of mine was abducted. I'm of a mind it's connected to our... suspect; this friend was helping me with research on the Torch."

Darius frowned, playing with a dinged up first aid kit. "That's the only connection?"

"I don't need anything else," Xaeryn hissed. She dropped the charch pipe she hadn't really been looking at. "He's a professor, for Heaven's sake! The only thing remotely dangerous he's tied to is this!" She gestured between them. "I wanted to ask Briony if she'd noticed anything in King Kaza''s behavior or visitors that might help me narrow down when he was... taken."

"We need to find the Torch," he growled in an undertone, "not your sweetheart."

"Friend," Xaeryn corrected tartly--and far too quickly, even she heard it.

"Can I help you find anything?" Chandry's arrival had been so quiet it made Darius flinch, whatever remark he was about to make lost in staring at the garishly made up--or painted, Xaeryn had never decided which side of the line it occupied--face of the shop's owner and namesake.

"Not today, Chandry," she said with a small shake of her head. "Just browsing."

"In that case... make sure you look at the new arrivals," Chandry said, patting the rolled up rugs on a nearby table. "And, smart as you are, maybe you can help me with something." He leaned forward, elbows braced on the topmost rug.

It was the fastest way to get their relative privacy back, and he had saved her from a rather embarrassing turn of conversation, so Xaeryn indulged him. "Oh?"

Chandry grinned. "I've been having a wonder this morning. Which streets," he began conspiratorially, " would have the most ghosts on them, do you think?"

Xaeryn pretended to mull it over, though the answer was obvious, even tapping her finger to her chin dramatically. "I guess it would be... dead ends?"

He all but clapped in his enthusiasm. "Correct!" A flourishing bow. "I shall leave you to your shopping." He bounded off.

"Took long enough," Darius grumbled.

"Chandry's not so bad," Xaeryn said defensively. "You just need to know how to talk to him." There are benefits to being on his good side. But they were here for a purpose. "Back to the matter at hand, I am aware of your deadline; I'm fairly sure my friend's being held in the same place as the Torch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I can't scry on him, either!" She bit her lip. "It's the same dead air feeling as trying to do so with the Torch, and it's something I've never encountered before, so it seems a logical conclusion."

"Hm," Darius grunted. "Y'know, if Jarkyth sent the brunos who grabbed your friend, there might not be anything to glean from Ackshin."

"I thought about that. D'you know if either of them employ Diminished? Aside from Briony."

"A few, I think," he shrugged, "but you'd have to ask Bry for specifics. What about your friend; he a Mage? Put up a fight?"

"He is, but his specialization is Conjuring, translocation, not combat."

"If he's a Traveler, why-"

Xaeryn held up a finger to cut him off. "I'm trying not to think about that. None of the answers that spring to mind are pleasant, especially in relation to my best friend."

Something glittered in Darius' eyes but he didn't pursue the thought. "Didja learn anything new before you got distracted?"

She had to grit her teeth not to snap Red being abducted wasn't a distraction. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of getting under her skin, she relayed her deal with Thieves Guild and plan to talk to them when this appointment was done. "And you? Did your behind the scenes snooping turn up anything?"

"Yes and no." Darius did a double take at a fishbowl--complete with fish--before pulling himself back to the conversation. "I tailed one of Ackshin's toughs, all the way to blazin' Ashtown, but she gave me the slip." He scowled. "Felt like we were close to where she was goin', too."

Xaeryn stiffened. "What part of Ashtown was this in? I can have the Guild look more closely."

"South-eastern, I guess I'd call it," Darius said after a moment. "Almost plastered against the outer wall."

It made sense for them to be away from the main drag, though she wouldn't have expected quite that far. Unless they knew of some way out through or under the walls.... For now the important thing was having a smaller area for search.

"Alright," she murmured, half to herself, "I can work with that, provided the Guild will play ball."

"Don't suppose you have anything more actionable for me, miss snooper?" Darius interrupted her train of thought.

Xaeryn grimaced and shook her head. "No, just the deal with Thieves Guild. I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied by the abduction today. So unless them making a bolder move helps you in some way, I don't."

He grunted and glared at a table of kitchen paraphernalia. "Gods damn this twisted up kn-"

The door jangled forcefully as it swung open to admit a new arrival, familiar pink ponytail swishing as she looked around.

Briony's eyes flashed when she saw them and it clearly took effort to act nonchalant on her way in their direction. She called a polite response to Chandry's greeting without even looking, dodged a small table, and finally reached Xaeryn and Darius. "Glad I didn't miss you," she murmured, examining a display of commemorative playbills and paintings. "Kaza had a couple meetings where he wanted a show of strength an' I think someone might've been tailing me--"

"And you still came?!" Darius hissed. Xaeryn couldn't disagree; it seemed a terrible risk.

"I lost them first!" she retorted, flicking him an annoyed look. "I've been doing this as long as you, Darius Torren, I know how to lose a tail!"

"Oh, but they're so useful for swatting flies, why would you want to lose a tail if you had it?" Chandry interjected, and Briony looked briefly taken aback by both his sudden presence and appearance.

At least she recovered faster than Darius, showing a warm smile. "Oh, I mean a much less useful kind of tail."

Chandry shrugged at the explanation and disappeared between shelves once more.

"All else aside, I am glad you made it," Xaeryn said to steer them on track. She had to take Briony's word she'd truly shaken the tail. "Any developments for you?"

"Jarkyth came by for a bit before lunch," Briony said, after a quick glance to assure Chandry was moved off and there were no other customers in the store. "They shut themselves in the sitting room for near an hour. They're planning something with the Torch, and I feel like--"

"Any other visitors or messages this morning?" Xaeryn interrupted. "Perhaps that evoked a change in demeanor?"

Briony gave her a curious look but nodded. "He got a message during breakfast that prompted a very smug smile." Her brow furrowed. "Come to think, he did say something to the messenger that I didn't catch. Wonder if that's what made Jarkyth come over; they've been really careful about appearances. Why?" She crossed her arms. "You're being sort of intense, Xaeryn. It's scaring me."

Xaeryn explained the circumstances. Again. "And with what you say occurred, I think it's a safe bet our friends are responsible."

Briony's expression shifted aghast and she reached over to squeeze Xaeryn's shoulder comfortingly. It was a surprisingly hefty squeeze. "Are you doing alright?"

Xaeryn nodded. "Don't have the luxury to be otherwise."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, yes. Do you know of any other Diminished among King Kaza's entourage?"

Briony's face screwed in thought. "That came along? Just a few. It's funny; he's superstitious as hael, likes to flaunt me at every opportunity, but he's also nervous about trusting in magic too much. There's a Binder, to do his protective wards. Shy little redhead, I've never heard her speak and don't even know her name," she said regretfully, twirling her ponytail as she continued. "Heron's Ket, mostly here for his skill with battle magic, but he's a fair hand at conjuring--"

"Traveing?" Xaeryn's brows arched.

"He... probably could if he had to," Briony nodded, then gave a small gasp. "You think he's the one who took your friend?"

"Seems likely," Xaeryn said. If he was a full-blood Ket he could do it single-handed. "Are they the only ones?"

"For Ackshin, yeah. Jarkyth has a few 'judiciously placed servants' he's alluded to. Mostly things like Binding or Seer, useful but not dangerous if they decide to turn on him. Has a Shifter Heron won't stop nattering about." She smirked. "I think he's stuck on her."

Darius snorted. "Not important, Bry."

"You never know, D." She shrugged and turned to Xaeryn. "So, why do they want your friend?"

"I've been trying to figure that," Xaeryn sighed, trailing her fingers over a dark lantern. "Even from unpleasant angles. If they know I'm on their trail and want to keep me in the dark, I've already learned--and written down--near everything about the Torch, and there are... more final ways to remove him as a source.

"If they want to use him as leverage to make me dust on the case, you'd think they'd be more blatant or would have left a note-"

"Unless they're countin' on your big brain to fill in the blanks," Darius interjected sardonically. "An' you knowin' without them sayin' serving to make you more suggestible."

"Such a ray of sunshine, D," Briony groused, elbowing him sharply.

"He has a point," Xaeryn said, gritting her teeth at the thought. "But they'll be quite disappointed if that's their goal."

Briony flashed a fierce smile as she shifted to a shelf of knick knacks. "So, what's our plan, then?"

"Darius mentioned trailing one of the king's people to Ashtown. I'll have Thieves Guild watch the area more closely if they're amenable" --and she'd sweeten the deal if that's what it took to make them amenable--"you and Darius keep an eye for our friends' behavior so we can act swiftly if they do anything hinky." She tapped a finger to her lips. "I hate being stuck in so reactive a course, but I fear it's where our options lay."

Though if opportunity presented itself she would seize it with both hands.

"I guess you're righ- Oh, this is adorable!" Briony gave a delighted (and distracted) squeal as she snatched a small ceramic ahfuri off the shelf. It was adorable, but-

Xaeryn cleared her throat.

"I'll keep eyes peeled," Briony promised, cradling her find.

"How're we passing along anything we see?" Darius asked.

"Telephone or wire, I suppose," Xaeryn replied.

"Right." Briony nodded, wiggling slightly as she glanced toward the counter. "I'm gonna go pay for this." She darted across the store.

Darius fixed Xaeryn with a steady look. "You will tell us if you learn anything, right, miss snooper? Before you go harin' off after your friend alone?"

"Have you decided to worry about me in his absence?" Xaeryn said dryly.

He just arched a brow.

"I promise to pass along anything I learn, I don't promise to wait before acting on it."

Darius chuckled and glanced at Briony, who was chatting up Chandry with another warm smile as she paid. "Don't s'ppose I can blame you for that." He tugged on his cap. "See you soon, lady detective."

Briony noted him leaving and darted after him, barely remembering to grab her purchase.

Xaeryn smiled and browsed a few more minutes before heading for the door herself.

A hand on her arm stopped her just before she exited. "One moment," Chandry chirped, pressing something into her palm. "Don't forget your prize."

Xaeryn blinked at the bronze sun brooch. "Prize-?"

The riddle.

"To the victor go the spoils," Chandry proclaimed, releasing her arm to give another bow, and then ducked away. Rather than drag things out by protesting or trying to insist on paying--experience said he wouldn't take a danar--Xaeryn slipped the brooch in her handbag and headed for her office.

---

It hit her like a thunderbolt halfway up the steps--it was midafternoon and she'd not eaten since breakfast. As if summoned by the realization, her stomach cramped and her knees bobbled on the next step.

Xaeryn scowled at the reminder she needed to eat. There was too much to do, she needed to talk to Thieves Guild, she needed to poke around, she needed to find Red before--

Her stomach growled loudly.

I think there's still my half a sandwich left from yesterday, she surrendered--reluctantly--to her body's urging. After all, she wouldn't get much done if she fainted from hunger. The half sandwich. Perhaps an apple. Ten minutes to eat. She could spare that. Red would fuss if he knew she wasn't taking care of herself.

Xaeryn smiled wryly as she unlocked the door. That was better motivation than anything. She checked the back of the door as she closed it; no sigil showing, so no break-in attempt. She collected the sandwich and apple, opting to sit at her desk and review notes while she ate. Maybe there was something helpful she'd missed.

There was quite a bit to review, though less than it appeared by page count given Red's sprawling shorthand. He didn't doodle like she did, instead filling the page edge to edge. It didn't look like he'd found anything new while getting this together and it was easy to skim.

As she tucked the papers back in the drawer her gaze landed on the earring. She set down the small remaining portion of her sandwich and stared.

Couldn't hurt to try again...

She removed the earring, fetched her scrying disk, and cleared her mind to focus. The disk's surface clouded, cleared, and gave her nothing but the same dead air.

Xaeryn growled and glared at the earring. "Where is he?!"

She'd run into protective wards or sigils before blocking scries. This was different; just empty not blocked, and it kept happening on this case--

The telephone rang. She very seriously considered not answering. She needed to get to Ashtown. But that would be unprofessional, and what if it was Pan? Or Darius, or Briony, though this would be awful quick for one of them. So she sighed and picked up the receiver. "Xaeryn Shrike Investigations." Please be quick.

"Finally!" Ms. Aerin huffed on the other end. "I've been trying to reach you for hours, Miss Shrike!"

Really should get a secretary... "Apologies, there was a development and I was out of office." She ran a hand down her face.

"From your tone, I'd reckon this is not a positive development in the direction of recovering the artefact and arresting the thieves?"

"It might lead there," Xaeryn acknowledged. "But the actual occurrence is not. They abducted my friend who'd been helping with research."

"Ah. My condolences, Miss Shrike. Is there any chance of them learning compromising details?"

"Not if I've followed the trail to correct suspicions, no. He knows the history and legend around the Torch, but not the current state of my investigation." She shifted her grip on the telephone. "And my suspect is already familiar with all of that."

"Ah, so you do have a firm suspect."

"Mm." The brooch slid out of her handbag when she nudged it aside, and Xaeryn picked it up to toy with as she talked. "I was pretty firmly on his scent after the gala, but I met a couple... inside men, shall we say, who confirmed my suspicions. So I've found the man, I believe, I just need to find where he's stashed the artefact" --and Red--"and proof of his complicity in the matter."

"Excellent! Mr. Syndran told me you had some promising leads from the gala, I'm glad to hear one of them panned out," Ms. Aerin said. "The case has felt... treading water too long."

"Oh, yes, I suppose those developments did occur after we talked," Xaeryn murmured, tracing the bronze sun's rays.

"Talked?" There was a frown in her voice. "Miss Shrike, I wasn't there."

Something cold skittered down Xaeryn's spine to swirl in her gut. "What? I grant that it was a full night, but I distinctly remember talking to you."

"Then apparently I have a doppelganger," Ms. Aerin said tartly. "I didn't go, Miss Shrike. I was dealing with the effects of a traitorous sandwich at lunch."

Food poisoning?? "Then who..." The nagging sensation of just missing something was back. Followed like a bucket of ice water by the thought of the conversation she'd just had.

There's a Shifter working for Jarkyth.

"Did you inform Mr. Syndran you wouldn't be attending?" Xaeryn asked, willing her voice to stay level as her mind raced to incorporate this twist.

"Of course. I called the office." A pause. "I was honestly surprised to learn he attended without me. But the Hall is an important enough contract, I suppose it makes sense..."

Xaeryn shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "Ms. Aerin, to all appearances, he attended with you."

There was a long silence as the other woman processed her words, followed by a snort. "Do you expect me to believe some impersonator managed to fool Riel Syndran into thinking she was me for several hours?!?!"

"Not for hours," Xaeryn corrected. "A few minutes for the drive to the gala, and then a short chat every so often throughout the evening. Mingling's the point of such an event, from my understanding. And at one point when I was chinning with him he mentioned 'you' were bustling about as if the gala was your responsibility instead of the museum's."

"That is the sort of thing I would do," Ms. Aerin sighed. "Still, I wonder how she pulled it off. And why."

"Information would be my guess," Xaeryn said. She idly clipped the brooch to her blouse and pulled out her notepad to page through. "My chief suspect is the king of Elinden, who has cultural and religious motives if he is indeed responsible, and at least a few high-placed political connections who could hire or employ someone skilled at disguise. The only motive I could imagine would be nosing around to see if there's information they missed. Or something they need that I have, or if there was worry I was too close on their trail." She flexed her bruised hand, evidence of the answer to that.

"And what would they have learned from your chat with her?"

"From me? That I had talked to Miss Aescar about people who tried to buy, claim, or steal the Torch. And that my notepad had been stolen. Nothing they didn't know already."

"They knew about the notepad?" Ms. Aerin said, arched brow in her voice.

"Oh, right." Xaeryn explained the reasoning behind that belief, the words trailing off as she reached a particular note from her inaugural meeting with Briony and Darius. She stared at it a moment, then decided to take a shot in the dark. "Ms. Aerin, did you go to the museum to oversee the arrival of the artefacts?"

"That was the plan," Ms. Aerin replied. "However, there were a couple... issues that arose requiring my attention, so I had to leave before they were done."

Got you. Despite the nagging sensation still growing at the base of her skull, Xaeryn smirked. "Thank you. Enlightening as this conversation has proven, was there a reason you were trying to reach me? I have a couple time-sensitive angles to investigate..."

"Just looking for an update; we hadn't heard from you yet today and Mr. Syndran is getting restless at how long things are dragging out."

"Believe me, I share his disapporval of that," Xaeryn said, running a finger over the notepad page. "I'm highly motivated to change it, and hopeful one of the new angles will bear significant fruit."

"Very well then, I'll leave you to it. Good day, Miss Shrike."

"Good day." The nagging grew stronger as she dropped the telephone back in its cradle. She was missing something, something right in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel it was something vital.

Deep breath and half a step back, she told herself. If Ms. Aerin hadn't stayed to oversee the whole delivery at the museum, and she knew from Darius and Ferrin's accounts nothing happened to the couriers' caravan on the way through the city, then it seemed clear the Shifter masqueraded as her to get access once the delivery arrived but she'd left. Xaeryn pulled out the photograph of Solimer's Torch. It wasn't even the size of her palm; easy to conceal in a handbag or pocket--or your blouse if you were feeling bold.

I know how they did it. The adrenaline rush at that victory was somewhat dulled by knowing these people--smart, bold, and desperate--had Red.

The Shifter had probably been emboldened by her success at the delivery--faking bad humor so people were glad to be rid of you was one off the oldest tricks in the book. Enough to attempt something more daring, like copying Aerin again for the gala--

Xaeryn sat bolt upright in her chair, the nagging turned to gut-wrenching revelation as pieces clicked. There was one more thing the Shifter had learned from her at the gala.

Red was the only other person who could read her shorthand.

Nausea twisted and she almost tasted her lunch again. It really was her fault. She'd relayed the damning information to the culprits with blithe ignorance.

And now that she knew, and was recalling the encounter with a more critical eye, all the clues seemed blatantly obvious. The chillier manner, the repeated 'Detective Shrike' rather than 'Miss', the vague prodding at topics they had already discussed.

Self-flagellation later, tracking down Red now, she scolded. The one silver lining to realizing her gaffe was that if they had abducted Red for such a purpose, they'd need him alive, conscious, and (mostly) unharmed.

The swift counter to that--and extreme incentive to hurry--was she had no idea how far they'd go to make him cooperate. Or what they wanted from her notes. Or if they would believe what he claimed about their contents.

There was not, however, any doubt in her mind what would happen once they had what they wanted.

She needed to talk to Thieves Guild. Now.

Xaeryn pushed away from the desk with vigor, only just remembered to lock up the case paraphernalia, and headed out the door, determined steps carrying her toward Ashtown.

---

She'd wound her way through the streets and was just in sight of the cat graffiti outside the Guild's warehouse when movement raked her peripheral vision and a lanky figure dropped off a low roof nearby.

"You're sure gettin' easy with navigating our streets, Miss Shrike," Chase said with a grin, shoving his hands in his pockets. Dust or dirt smeared the sleeve and front of his dark red shirt, and his green eyes twinkled as he examined her. "Quite the skill for a proper lady to develop; people will talk."

"An excellent memory is actually quite a useful skill to refine as a detective," Xaeryn corrected. "I need to speak with you."

"Oho, straight to the point." He was still grinning. "This about the deal you made with Ari?" One hand came out of the pocket to gesture toward the warehouse door.

"Yes." She gripped her handbag tightly more out of urgency than concern. "I wanted to talk about the terms."

"Changing them on us already?" Chase made a tsking sound as he turned into a room, smaller than where they'd spoken before, more of an office. "Not wise to play around with Thieves Guild, sunshine."

Xaeryn grit her teeth. Miss Shrike. But it wasn't worth it. "Not... changing in any way meant to be detrimental or unfair to you," she said, taking a seat when he offered. "You know I'd asked your people to keep an eye for anything hinky. I was wondering what the trade off would be for more closely examining a smaller area."

"So, rather than a general 'let me know if anything weird happens on your turf', you want us to poke around part of it for something specific?" Chase sat behind what approximated a desk as he spoke--planks balanced atop crates--and put his feet up.

"Yes. What change would that bring to our bargained price?"

He smirked and played with one of his rings, studying her face with a keen look in his eyes. "Well, seeing as we've already made a pretty lyss off you, which I'm sure you'll at least partly claim as a business expense, so Merchants Guild foots the bill" --he gave a Cheshire grin at the thought--"I don't want any more of your money."

She arched a brow. "No?" The hair prickled at her nape.

Chase slid a knife free of its boot sheath and stared at the blade nonchalantly. "No, I think for this I want a favor." His eyes flicked to hers. "Regardless of if we find what you're after."

"Accepted, but I won't do anything illegal," Xaeryn said without a beat of hesitation.

"Darling, this is Thieves Guild," he drawled, his grin unwavering under piercing green eyes.

"And I"m certain there's at least a few legitimate things you can think of to ask me," she countered. "Nothing. Illegal." She'd square anything else between her and the One-God, but she wasn't going to jeopardize her livelihood doing something that would turn the police fully against her. She was already sort of a grey area to them. If push came to shove, she'd look for Red and the Torch herself.

"If it has to be on the up, then two favors," Chase said. He was studying her with narrowed eyes and it made her wonder what he saw.

She didn't feel like playing games to get an answer out of him, however. "One regardless, two if you're successful. I'm interested now in just the south-eastern quarter, near the wall in particular. Looking for a building that's being used to stash at least one stolen artefact and a... captive. But before you shift into that, did your people see anything from the more general assignment?"

"Twiggy blonde in the northeast part of the district, just hanging around." He waggled his brows. Xaeryn knew as well as he did people did not loiter in Ashtown for their health. "But she didn't do anything much; lingered and left, so I'd wager she got dusted on by whoever was s'pposed to meet her."

It didn't seem relevant, but she filed it away nonetheless. "Thank you. I'll be checking soon to see if you've found anything with the narrowed area."

"Anxious, are we?" Chase said with a knowing smile. "And could I get a description of this 'captive'? In case we see them, we should know if it's the right person, wouldn't you say?"

"He's tall, red hair, green eyes, street clothes sans jacket and perhaps tie." He didn't always wear one. "I'm not sure how they've been treating him, so he might be roughed up." She stood. "And this is a time-sensitive case that has already drug out longer than desired, so perhaps I am a bit anxious for its conclusion."

"Hopefully we'll find something that can help with that goal." He swung his feet down. "Be seein' you, Miss Shrike."

"You certainly will, Chase." She made her way outside, blinked through the dim-to-bright shift again, and briefly considered poking around herself before deciding to return to her office. Perhaps scrying on Red directly would work this time... If she could just see him, it would help the worry gnawing in her chest. No matter how dire the straits.

---

It did not work. Still nothing. Xaeryn hated feeling powerless at the best of times, not being able to do anything now, with Red in harm's clutches, was pure torture. It was getting harder and harder to fight off the frantic, paralyzing dread as each avenue she explored dropped a dead end in her path. She even got desperate enough to poke around the king's hotel, but that, too, came up empty.

She wasn't truly hungry, but when dinner time came she didn't have anything else to do except pray and go over notes again. Wait for Briony or Darius to reach out, if they would have cause. So she fixed something small and made herself eat. She didn't taste a bite.

To keep herself from pacing a hole in the floor, she decided to give scrying with the earring one more shot. Third time's the charm, wasn't that the saying?

Yes, she was getting a headache from scrying so much in one day. (Or trying to.) No, she didn't care if it would let her find Red before something happened to him.

There was a sense of last-ditch finality to this attempt as she prepared. Logic would dictate giving up if it failed to produce result again. Xaeryn wasn't sure she could be logical about this.

She pinched the earring between her thumb and first two fingers, focused on the bronze scrying disk, and sent up a prayer. One-God, please.

The surface wavered, clouded, cleared on an image. A lightning bolt of desperate relief seared through her and she almost lost the scry before focusing greedy attention on what she could see. A tall man, well built, with silvery-white hair. She strained her concentration until pain lanced her temples and could make out the Ket tattoo on his wrist and earring the match of the one she held in his ear. The background was fuzzy, but she got the sense of generic grandeur, like a ritzy hotel. Another figure stepped into the bounds of her scry--King Kaza Ackshin.

Xaeryn struggled to keep her breathing steady as hope nipped at her soul. A solid connection.

There was another silhouette at the edge, just a shadow, but it might've been Briony. The posture and ponytail looked right.

Her subject--Heron, she'd guess--and King Kaza were exchanging words, which the silent nature of scries meant she didn't catch, and their positioning made it hard to read lips. But it was clear from body language they were preparing to leave. The toll was too much and the scry faded as the figures headed out of the room.

Xaeryn's heart pounded with adrenaline and exertion in equal share as she sat back.

A lead. Oh, blessed God above, she had a lead. They were heading somewhere, the gamble was if it was where she wanted to find or something unrelated.

She was on her feet and halfway across the room before she remembered her promise to Darius. If Briony was with King Kaza, did that count as one of them knowing? Did she really have time...

Xaeryn groaned, turned back the desk, and called the place Darius had said he was staying. No, "Mr. Thrace" wasn't in, did she want to leave a message for him? Deep breath through her nose. "Tell him to meet his snooper friend by the Ashtown gate. She's not going to wait for him long." She hung up before the desk clerk could respond.

If she hustled, she could pick up the king's entourage at the gates and follow. If that's where they were going. If it wasn't, she'd be out of the office, should anyone try to reach her, and miss a vital update.

She had to follow this. To be so close, have this dropped almost literally in her lap...

What she'd seen of King Kaza's expression was eager--he was looking forward to wherever this would lead. That thought alone tipped the balance. There was only one course of action for her and she knew it.

Xaeryn didn't even bother with a hat this time. She only grabbed her handbag because it held her dagger, and if she'd chosen correctly, she would likely need it.

Please let me be right. Please let him be alright. There was no way to ensure someone knew what she was doing--she really should get a secretary--so she'd just have to hope. Hope Briony was truly along, or Darius wasn't out long to get her message, or something. This might very well be the culmination of her case, and all she cared about was saving her friend.

"Nothing. Happened."

"Did you want it to?"

Her hands were shaking as she locked the drawer, locked the door, and hurried toward the Ashtown gates, thoughts on Red and a fervent prayer in her heart.

[thetshirtlady]

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[sundeathh]

Thanks to the Elevator

Part 4

Fanfiction | Masterlist | NSFW

Pairing: Aizawa × Fem!Reader

Fandom: BNHA | MHA Word count: 4,7 K

Categories: Workplace romance, enemies to lovers, tsundere, angst & fluffy.

CW: Cursing. NSFW. Suggestive talk, heterosexual sex. Don't read it if you're a minor.

For several minutes, neither of you said anything else. Shouta kept the speed as he concentrated on the traffic. Now and then, however, you would catch him glancing at you through the corner of his eye, a smirk playing around his lips as he observed your features, watching as you pursed your lips, trying to fight back the smile forming on them.

Aizawa would then turn his attention back to the road as if there was nothing going on, and you kept silent, staring ahead of you, though you were rather excited.

That mood persisted until you finally reached the place where he intended to surprise you at;

"Here we are." He said, parking the car and getting out to open the door for you. With his hand extended towards you, he waited for you to climb out and follow suit. The two of you headed to the entrance of an elegant restaurant. You could tell by his choice of place that it had a reputation in the area, not too shabby for a high-class restaurant, which was a good surprise, though.

"Shall we?" He asked softly, holding out his arm for you. You nodded and placed your hand gently on his biceps. "Yeah, let's go." You agreed, walking beside him.

The restaurant was significantly quiet, aside from some people's chattering, and Aizawa's soft expression hinted he was far from bothered. Instead, he seemed pleased. Maybe he was enjoying himself, after all.

After entering the establishment, you headed toward the front counter. The hostess greeted you politely and led you through the ornamented halls to a secluded table by the window. The view was stunning: pruned trees and pretty flowers covered the exterior area of the restaurant. Strings of soft light covered most of the bushes, and the flowers covered even the hollowed-out wooden ceiling.

You were brought back from your appeal as Shouta pulled out a chair for you, offering you a seat. You thanked him as you sat down. The ravenette sat across from you, resting against the chairback, his eyes scanning you as if analyzing what you might want him to say.

His gaze was intense, and you felt shyness wash over you, forcing you to look away with your cheeks tinted pink. A subtle smirk shined on Shouta's face at that action, which went unnoticed while you tried to distract yourself from your nervousness by taking in the place's beauty.

The inside was just as breathtaking as the outside. The lights there were dim, and a yellowish hint provided just the right amount of warmth to the ambiance. The ceiling was high, made of spaces interspersed between wood and glass. The romantic aura filled the air.

Aizawa was about to make a comment when a waitress came by to set a menu in front of each of you, giving a polite greeting and a nod before leaving. You glanced at the man and graced him with a half smile, lowering your gaze back to the menu.

After a couple of minutes, you finally lifted your gaze again, looking over at Shouta, who had been reading the menu for a while now. A smirk formed on your lips as a new idea crossed your mind. You leaned forward, placing your elbows on the table and resting your chin on your hands.

The hero lifted his gaze, locking eyes with you. "Yes?" He asked, his suspicions highlighted by the raised eyebrow.

"Is this how you usually behave around women?" You teased. You could've sworn you heard him supress a chuckled, but you weren't sure.

After a short moment, he answered your question, averting your gaze as he looked back at his menu. "It's not."

"Then, what is this?" You grinned.

"You know what this is." He replied, his eyes flickering back up at you as you held an innocent smile on your lips.

You narrowed your eyes, the smirk never faltering from your lips. "Hmm... well, maybe I do know, but you didn't answer my question, right?"

"I have no clue about what you mean. And I did answer your question." He stated. "Now stop messing with me."

You chuckled and leaned back onto your chair, shaking your head as you studied his facial expressions. There was something different about him today, almost playful, even.

"Alright, alright." You let out another short, amused laugh before returning your attention to the menu and scanning through it.

The waitress soon came by, smiling sweetly at the two of you. "Can I get you both started with drinks?" She asked.

You nodded at her. "Just water, please."

"Same here," Shouta added.

When the waitress left after pouring you your drinks, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, only broken by the sounds of cutlery occasionally clinking against porcelain.

You caught yourself gazing at him, unable to look away. And he was doing the same thing with you here and there. Your lips curved into a smile. "This feels rather intimate, huh!?" You commented softly.

"Hm, perhaps it does." He replied, meeting your eyes again. His expression turned softer yet somewhat unpleased. "Sorry if I'm being presumptuous."

You shook your head, a faint smile still on your lips. "It's no problem... I like it." You replied. "Besides, this place is more pleasant than an enclosed and broken lift."

A slight blush crossed his cheeks, causing him to avert his gaze. He cleared his throat softly and took a sip of the clear drink, setting the glass back down afterward. You mirrored his actions, taking a sip of water as you leaned back on your seat.

The waitress came back not long after, bringing a basket of breadsticks as a courtesy, gently placing it on the table before leaving with your dinner orders.

"Thanks." You mumbled before picking a breadstick off the basket and taking a bite out of it.

"I don't usually enjoy this type of place," Shouta started, "but they can surely fill us with hunger." He remarked, taking one breadstick for himself.

"You're right." You replied, smiling. "But why did you pick this particular restaurant, then? Was it because you liked the ambiance or..." You paused your speech, stealing a glance at him out of the corner of your eye. His expression remained the same, yet a hint of mischief danced within his eyes.

"Why do you ask?" A faint smile appeared on his lips as he took a large bite of his breadstick, chewing as he stared expectantly at you.

"No reason." You responded, rolling your eyes as you picked another piece from the basket.

"You're such a bad liar." He stated, taking another bite.

"Are you complaining?" You grinned, raising your eyebrows playfully.

"Of course not."

You couldn't help but feel satisfied. The atmosphere between you was slowly becoming comfortable. The awkwardness that had previously dominated it started to disappear, leaving behind only the feeling of comfort it somehow created.

As you continued eating your snack, your eyes flickered from his mouth down to his neck, where his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. You couldn't stop yourself from swallowing a lump in your throat.

It felt like you had gotten stuck in a whirlpool. You bit down your bottom lip as a blush crept upon your cheeks, and you suddenly became unsure of what you should say or do.

As Shouta finished his last piece of breadstick, he stretched his arms and leaned his upper body over the table. He propped his head on one of his hands, leaning in closer, gazing at your flushed cheeks and lips.

"There's something interesting about you." He whispered, his tone husky, enticing you.

Your heart began beating faster as heat rose within your cheeks once more. Your gaze dropped and moved to his lips, although you tried not to stare. Shouta observed your reaction as he leaned back, a faint smirk tugging up at his features as he realized your nervous demeanor.

"What is it?" You replied nervously. Your voice was quiet, barely audible. His smile grew into a full-blown grin as you looked up at him. He leaned back in his chair, resting his forearm on the table as he spoke.

"You look cute when you blush."

Your cheeks burned bright red. "Oh, shut up. What is this all about?!" You exclaimed, your eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Cute?!" You repeated, incredulous.

"You look good whenever you're embarrassed." He explained.

You huffed. "Thank you, I guess." You mumbled, turning away from him, avoiding his gaze.

"Well," He spoke, catching your attention. "You've been blushing quite a lot these past few days. I'd worry if you were feverish, but I'm starting to think maybe I might be the problem." He grinned teasingly.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't comment on things like that." You remarked sarcastically, turning your gaze back up to give him a glare.

He chuckled. "Alright, fine." He replied. "I think I'll need some sort of permission before I continue to tease you, then."

You narrowed your eyes again. "Just so you know..." You began as your tone dropped, your face becoming stern, "...I can make you wish you hadn't done so."

"Is that so? Would you like me to kiss it better?" He teased as he lowered his gaze.

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes. "Don't make me throw those pieces of breadstick at you. Not in this place. Then we'll see about that."

Shouta let out a small snort of amusement. "Fair enough."

You rolled your eyes again as you picked up another piece of breadstick and began nibbling on it, glancing up and down Shouta's figure. You could hardly contain your excitement over how he was talking with you.

Before either of you could say another word, the waiter walked over to your table, setting your meal in front of you and giving a brief bow before disappearing.

"Thank you." You muttered as you looked down at the food. Shouta nodded approvingly.

The two of you began silently consuming the food as you kept stealing glances at each other, both wondering who would break the silence next. After a few moments, however, you decided it must be your turn. You had questions running through your mind that you still wanted answers to;

"So, what exactly did you want me out here for today?" You asked, studying him.

"To talk, I guess." He said. "I realized we haven't talked properly about anything except under stressful or work-related situations. I thought, since there isn't much else going on right now, we could use some time together outside of work, do whatever we feel like, go somewhere, and clear our minds."

His words made sense, although you never expected he would suggest something like that. However, this was just what you needed. You also knew what his intention was.

You smiled, reaching your hand out across the table to gently stroke the back of his hand with your thumb. "Yeah, we can do that."

He flashed you a warm smile, nodding in agreement. You both resumed eating your meals in comfortable silence, chatting idly about everything and nothing in between, laughing every once in a while as your conversation progressed smoothly from teases to jokes, from mundane topics into a deeper conversation that held weight, hinting that the entire interaction would inevitably lead somewhere.

Both of your plates were empty before you could realize it. You were glad that the tension had dispersed. The atmosphere wasn't weird anymore, and you felt like the hero wasn't acting cold toward you, either.

You felt pleased with the progress the both of you had made there, especially after avoiding one another for quite some time and after all the bickering you had exchanged in the past.

"I'll pay the bill and get us a drink." He stated, placing money on the table. He stood up slowly, extending his hand out towards you. "Ready?"

You took his hand, letting him pull you up from your seat as you nodded in agreement. After everything was settled and done, both of you headed toward the exit. Almost naturally, Shouta's hand went to your lower back, guiding you out.

His touch gave you a electrifying tingle; you tried your best not to show how pleased this small action made you. But he saw through it anyway.

After stopping by the bar for a few moments of silence as the barman gracefully packed a bottle of red wine for takeaway, you stepped out into the brisk autumn air. It wasn't raining, but the asphalt was wet and the weather was chilly, and you both pulled your jackets tightly around yourselves.

A moment later, you reached the parking lot and climbed into Shouta's car, sitting beside one another comfortably before he put the key into the ignition. He started the engine, shifted gears, and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Where do you want to go from here?" He questioned, briefly glancing toward you.

"Do you have any obligations for tonight?" You asked.

"None." He answered shortly, focusing on the road as he drove onto the street.

His glance landed on you again as your voice caught his attention. "We could drive around until we find a spot to spend time alone together."

"That sounds like fun." He commented.

"But I do have better plans."

"Which are...?"

"You're not supposed to drive if you intend on drinking that wine. And, well, you are driving. So you should drink it outside of this vehicle instead and not drive after." You said, pointing towards the bottle you had in your hand as you stared at him with a playful smile playing on your lips.

Shouta groaned, shifting his eyes from the road, looking straight at you and giving you a slight smirk. "You're unbelievable." He stated jokingly. "And here I thought I was being enough of a gentleman."

"Ha, ha, very funny." You giggled.

"It's a deal then." He declared as he turned his attention back onto the road and continued driving as you gave the instructions to your place.

The journey home was rather pleasant, and soon after, you arrived at your apartment building. Then, when Shouta finally had killed the engine, he looked towards you and spoke. "Thanks for agreeing to my invitation. It was a pretty enjoyable evening." He said, flashing a small, genuine smile toward you.

"You're welcome." You responded happily. "And thanks for taking me out. It was nice."

"Sure thing." He replied before unbuckling his seatbelt. Then, he turned to look at you, leaning forward as he placed one hand back on the steering wheel. His eyes met yours for a split second, making the both of you a bit uncomfortable all of a sudden.

Without further warning, he reached his free hand forward, grasping the side of your face as he leaned in, your face mere inches away as he waited for you to close the remaining distance between your lips.

You immediately lifted one of your arms towards his torso, holding him closer as you closed your eyes. He moved his hand from the wheel, allowing it to fall onto your thigh, his fingers grazing against the inside of your knee in a tender touch.

After a moment or two, he pulled away and cleared his throat, removing his hand from your thigh.

"Sorry about that." He muttered awkwardly. "I'm sorry, I just thought-"

"No, no, it's okay." You insisted quickly. "Um, thanks for driving me home."

"No problem." He replied, and a short pause followed that. You glanced down at your lap, and tension began to fill the car. You didn't want him to leave yet.

"So... um, would you like to come in?" You suggested, pointing at the building and glancing at him.

Shouta gave you a pointed look, raising a skeptical eyebrow, but nodded. "Yeah, if that's alright with you."

"Of course."

You finally exited the car, and Shouta locked it. Then, the black haired man followed close behind as you headed toward the building.

Both of you climbed the stairs in silence. When the two of you reached your floor, you led Shouta into your apartment, leaving your coats and shoes at the door before gesturing for him to sit on the couch. He complied, and you placed the wine on the coffee table to go to the kitchen and grab a pair of glasses and a corkscrew.

When you returned, you placed the objects on the table and joined Shouta on the sofa. He thanked you as you handed him a glass after he opened the bottle, clicking the glass against your own after pouring the red liquid.

As the two of you took a few small sips in silence, you could see the slight tension in Shouta's body. He looked like he was trying very hard to move any closer toward you than necessary.

Honestly, you felt like this was a very weird situation. But, somehow, you didn't feel uncomfortable at all. "What is it? Do I smell awful or something?" You joked, trying to ease any discomfort he might be feeling.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing of that sort. Just..." he paused, searching for the right words. "Are we gonna just sit here and drink in awkward silence forever?"

"Well, considering we haven't spoken for a while, I'd say yes." You laughed. "But there are many things we could do besides talking, you know..."

His expression changed at hearing those last few words. There wasn't anything you wanted more in the world than for him to keep looking at you like that.

He didn't respond at first, seeming hesitant, but after a moment, he gave you a small smirk.

That was the permission you needed to finish the rest of your beverages quickly. Your mind raced with thoughts of what could happen next, but there wasn't much room for thinking when there was so much else that needed doing instead;

Your heart was beating fast against your chest, the nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins. You didn't want to wait any longer; you wanted to continue what started in the elevator. You needed it now.

"What's with that expression?" He asked.

"...what expression?" You said innocently, and he raised a brow.

"I can see the wheels spinning in your head from here." He smirked before reaching over and cupping your cheek.

His eyes seemed to darken, staring intently into yours. "I wasn't expecting you, of all people." He paused, clearing his throat as you narrowed your eyes at him. "You were blushing like a sick person moments ago. When did you get this bold?"

"Oh please, don't play dumb with me." You teased. "You already know where I live."

"I was being serious." He responded, moving his hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

You moved your hand slowly, grabbing the collar of his shirt to bring him closer, and your thumb brushed his collarbone. "You know why." You whispered.

That was enough incentive for him, as a second later, he leaned towards you and pressed his lips firmly against yours, pulling you towards him by the waist.

You were amused, but not surprised. Your hands moved up to lock around the hero's neck, your lips slowly parting to allow his tongue to graze over your lower lip. A soft moan escaped you, causing Shouta's grip on your waist to tighten.

He took control of the kiss, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tilt your head as he pleased, deepening the kiss almost immediately.

You felt a strong urge to clench your thighs together, but instead, you settled for a better move, dragging yourself onto his lap - straddling his legs as your tongue remained tangled with his.

You could hear his breath hitching as you pulled away, only for him to chase your lips again as you tried desperately not to make it so obvious that your breath was ragged with desire already.

You shifted your hips as your lips found his once more, your fingers tangling themselves into the fabric of his shirt as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer.

One of your hands wandered towards the buttons of his shirt, fingertips brushing along, eager and more clumsy than you managed to. He chuckled at your struggle, and you bit his lower lip lightly in retaliation.

His breathing became labored, and he sharply inhaled while you finally started to unbutton his shirt. Reaching the last few buttons, you realized you were far too impatient, so instead, you slid your hands under his shirt, sliding your hands against the warm skin of his chest and stomach.

His breath hitched again, and you felt his abs flex underneath your fingers. He suddenly grabbed hold of your hips, pressing you closer; the feeling of his hardening bulge against your clothed pelvis caused your insides to flutter around nothing as you let out an involuntary gasp.

His mouth left yours and traveled downwards, trailing kisses and nibbles across the side of your neck, making your breath hitch too.

You bit on your lip, trying your hardest to suppress a whimper, which only caused Shouta's actions to become even more urgent. His soft growl against your neck spurred you into action. "Bedroom." You muttered in between breaths. "Now."

He chuckled at your desperate command. "I thought you'd never ask."

Before either of you had fully registered what happened, Shouta pushed himself off the couch with you in his arms, following the path you pointed out.

Finally reaching your room, you turned the lights on without even bothering to get off of him; and he proceeded to lower your body onto the bed with a gentleness you didn't expect, considering both of your previous eagerness.

Your hands continued their journey down Shouta's muscular chest, stopping momentarily as you reached his belt buckle. You noticed how his breathing quickened as you unclasped his belt, letting go once it fell into his pants.

Meanwhile, he got rid of the shirt you gave up on taking off midway, tossing it into a corner of the room.

The sight of his defined abs, chest, and shoulders, and the way they glistened under the warm light of your room, made you weak on your knees. The desire in his eyes was burning as he watched you, making you aroused by just his presence alone.

One of his hands reached out for your thigh, slipping underneath your dress, rubbing gentle circles into your skin with his thumb as he lowered himself on top of you, overtaking your lips in another heated kiss.

You breathed in sharply when he brushed his finger upward against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, savoring the sudden increase in pressure from his touch.

Without warning, he pulled away from your lips and pulled you up just enough for him to get that dress out of you and toss it aside, revealing bare skin clad in black panties and nothing else.

Shouta wasted no time pushing you down onto the mattress, kissing you roughly before trailing down your exposed neck, given the opening to suck and bite down at your collarbone.

You couldn't help but let out a low whine at the sensation, your back arching up as he continued, doing the same thing with the other side of your neck.

It didn't take long until you started to get lightheaded as his stubble scratched your skin, making the sensation nearly unbearable.

Shouta lifted his head abruptly as he heard you whine out his name, breathing heavily and looking you deep in the eye. "Do you want me?" His voice sounded hoarse and desperate.

"Fuck yes." You breathed, the words coming out before you realized it.

He smirked and stood up, while you were lying flat on the bed. He removed his pants and boxers from his waist, dropping them onto the floor beside your discarded dress as his gaze stayed glued on you, his intense eyes practically piercing into yours as if he was challenging you.

You wasted no time. You sat up and tugged at the hem of your wet underwear, freeing your folds and exposing your arousal to the man.

His eyes widened, his pupils dilating as he stared at your naked body. Without wasting another second, he grabbed your legs and pulled you toward the edge of the bed, wrapping them around his waist.

You gasped in surprise, his rough, demanding behavior taking you by surprise. Your eyes widened, and you looked into his eyes, searching for a hint, silently asking him what he would do.

But he didn't respond, instead focusing entirely on holding your thighs open while one of his hands traveled down, making contact with your sex and massaging your bud softly with his thumb.

You struggled to breathe for a split second as the air caught in your throat, and you bit your bottom lip hard. The movements were slow and soft, opposite to the roughness you experienced a few seconds ago.

You waited eagerly for what would come after this, craving more contact and hoping for anything more, yet you had no idea how he would proceed. Would he take you slowly? Or would he push you over the edge and finish you with strength, leaving you moaning his name with every thrust? You couldn't wait to find out.

"Shouta," you called, "...there's a condom in the first drawer of the nightstand." You mumbled as you tried to normalize your breath, pointing at the piece of furniture next him.

He nodded and reached out to grab it without even untangling himself from your legs; you watched in bliss as he picked it up and put it on before slowly easing the tip of his cock on you, teasing your folds. Soon, your wet entrance closed snugly around his length, enveloping him completely.

"Fucking hell." He cursed under his breath as you took him inside, grunting as he pushed forward, making you gasp while your body presented some resistance.

His hands moved to rest on your hips, and you arched your back, searching for a better angle to ease him into you. After several moments of struggling with your internal muscles, soft moans started to flow out of your throat, becoming increasingly louder and high-pitched with every hard thrust he gave into you.

After a minute or two, Shouta released one of your hips and gripped the back of your thigh, spreading it apart and making you let out a sharp cry of satisfaction as he fucked you at a better angle.

His eyes flashed up to meet your flushed features writhing in pleasure before he returned his focus on his task, his movements becoming faster and more intense, causing you to grip at his forearms, attempting to steady yourself.

The sound of flesh hitting skin resonated throughout the room, your moans turning louder the longer he pounded into you, sweat dripping down his forehead until he finally threw you off the edge, sending your entire world spiraling out of control.

You groaned deeply, your fingers digging into his skin while you squeezed your eyes shut, his name escaping your lips through continous moans.

He came soon after, releasing himself in the condom with heavy pants and deep grunts as his hips stuttered against your walls, each movement growing progressively harder.

"Fuck." He panted out. "So. fucking. hot."

You whimpered, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze. His expression changed, morphing from lustful into one that resembled accomplishment as he watched you pant heavily, your hair messy from his hard thrusts.

"That good, huh?" He asked, his voice still hoarse from his earlier exertion.

You nodded, unable to form any coherent words. Shouta smiled softly at you, placing a knee on the bed and leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. He ran his hand gently along your side, brushing past your breasts before caressing them teasingly.

Leaning back and with a swift motion, he pulled out of your wet opening, getting rid of the used condom before climbing back on the bed.

You watched him curiously as he moved on top of you, his hands now on either side of your head as he put his weight on his elbows, keeping you from looking away from his face. He eagerly captured your lips again and began sucking lightly on your bottom lip.

"Hmm." You hummed before he stopped suddenly, pulling his mouth away from yours for a second.

"I didn't tire you out, did I?" He asked.

"No." You answered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

"Good." He said, lowering his head once again and connecting his lips with yours once more, tasting and teasing your tongue with his own as he continued his gentle assault on your mouth before he finished his speech.

"Because I didn't intend on stopping just now."

Likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! Check the fixed post for requests.

[veranavera]

So this is normally where I would go ahead and format one of my typical posts and show you the pics of me on top of the peaks I did: Chairback, Number Three, Number Four (yes those are the official names of those mountains), Barren, Big Moose, Couburn, Boundary Bald, and Kibby - all peaks in Maine that I did and got a photo of me with a trans pride flag at the top

Unfortunately, at the end of my trip up Kibby, I lost my phone, and since I hadn't backed up any of the photos from those 8 peaks, I can't do one of my normal posts. I could bombard y'all with details from that, and how it affected what peaks I've been able to do over the last month (yes this happened a month ago, my posts are SUPER backlogged), but honestly it kind of feels like a moot point

Suffice to say, this kinda fucking sucks. I put a lot of my time and energy into these projects of mine and whenever something like this does happen (very similar thing happened last year), it kind of feels like I wasted that time and energy

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut

This does give me a good opportunity to share a trip I did a wee bit ago that I never posted about! Back in December I went on a backpacking trip with some friends to west Texas with the intention of hiking Guadalupe and Emory, the tallest and most prominent peaks in the state respectively. We were able to hit Emory, but on the day we were supposed to do Guadalupe, a winter storm rolled in and no one had brought their winter hiking gear, so we had to bail on that

Honestly, I don't know why I never posted anywhere about this, I guess it just felt like anything I posted would feel incomplete to me since I only accomplished half of my intended goal, even though it's a *very* common thing in hiking/climbing to have to abandon your original goals and either adapt to new ones or, bail on your trip entirely

Anyhow, if y'all will excuse the dramatic change in tone, landscape and appearance, here's some pictures of me with a trans pride flag on the most prominent peak in Texas :)

And I have more nature photos to go along with that!

Anyhow, thanks for reading this far :)

[clavissionary-position]

GILBERT x EMMA

A Genre of Affection

FLUFF . GENERAL GILBERT SPOILERS

+ + + +

A finger from nowhere taps Emma on the nose. “Boop.”

Emma jolts rearward in her chair. Her momentum tilts the chair from its four legs to the back two. She teeters in weightless panic, but before she can hit the floor, the chairback thuds softly against something.

Gilbert smiles down at Emma as he holds the chair up with his boot.

No, that evergreen smile is trying desperately to suppress laughter.

Emma crosses her arms. “Why?”

“Reaction,” Gilbert answers simply, or all but manages to, between his infuriating, shoulder-wracking fit.

Well, not infuriating. Not unpleasant, either. At all.

Master musicians have written far uglier songs.

Emma's brow twists into a knot. But her lips twist the opposite way.

The echoes in the library die down. Gilbert shifts the chairback from his leg to a secure grasp with his hands, but he maintains the tilt. For some reason. “You look hungry, Little Rabbit.”

Ah, this. This again. Emma sighs. "Are you hungry, Prince Gilbert?"

"Thank you for asking," Gilbert answers, pleased. A conspiring arc parts his shapely mouth and lifts the apples of his cheeks. “I am starving." And without another word he begins dragging the chair, and Emma with it, right across the library floor.

"W-Wait a minute, what are you-"

"Rewarding you in advance by driving you to the kitchen."

Driving!?

The screech of wood driving into the marble flooring conjures the mental apparition of a certain Palace Devil.

Emma jumps out of the chair, rounds in front of Gilbert and throws both her arms up to his chest. “Please stop. We can walk there. Walking is evil because it is the opposite of resting like a good person. Let's walk, Prince Gilbert.”

Gilbert uprights the chair and gives Emma a thoughtful pout. Then he snaps his fingers. "I see, did you want to be carried like this instead?"

"!!!"

Emma’s feet leave the ground as Gilbert cradles her.

“I didn’t want to be carried, period!”

Gilbert chuckles and each wave sways through Emma where their bodies connect. His smile is almost too bright to look at. "Even a cute lie is a lie nonetheless."

Really, just how did this end up happening?

Emma can't help but be overly-conscious of the broad, well-contoured chest underneath Gilbert's uniform. If looks are deceiving then Gilbert is a maximum offender.

But it’s hard to ignore the unusual chill that clings to him. How can he still be so cold when he's wearing so many layers?

She’d asked him about it before and he’d given the answer he’d wanted to give. It isn’t her place to pry any further. Even if she wanted to, more and more, with each passing day. Even if she feared...

Emma looks out at the nearing exit. How Gilbert maneuvered the heavy doors without her noticing is a credit to his trickery.

...She really doesn't know a single thing about this curious person who won't leave her alone.

"At this rate," Emma says with a bittersweet smile, "you're going to convince everyone that I’ve married the enemy."

Certainly if those kinds of rumors begin circulating, Emma will be done for. Gilbert can promise her all the protection he wants, but there will be no fixing the staggering amount of inconvenience and treachery that will follow.

Gilbert, of course, never has a normal answer. "It's admittedly too early for friends like us to jump into marriage, buuuuut…” He raises Emma’s head closer to his, grazing the top of her ear with his lips: “I'm willing to consider it."

Emma writhes and hollars despite herself. "That's not what I meant!"

She receives the brush of sweet laughter against her cheek. "Sshhh. Quiet in the library."

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed (Javier Peña) Chapter 3

Rating: Mature (thematic elements)

Warnings: talk of suicide/suicidal thoughts (is fairly brief), things Javier did in Colombia (Los Pepes, holding his weapon on child, again is fairly brief), underage; grooming, age gap.

Words: 3,743

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry

October 23, 1993,

Last night was weird. I don’t know how else to put it. I don’t tell people anything about Mexico.

Javier blinked awake, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His back ached from sleeping on the couch. His eye lids fell heavy, but the smell of coffee and hushed voices pulled him toward consciousness The spring digging into his back kicked him off the couch.

He shuffled toward the kitchen. The voices grew louder as he did.

Alejandra sat at the kitchen table leaned over a coloring book. Mateo sat next to her, nodding to her string of consciousness. He was equally focused on his coloring book. 

“Buenos Dias, Mr. Javi.”

He stopped and shifted his weight. Children weren’t exactly his strong suit. Did this make him responsible for them?  Should he even be allowed around children? He pushed those thoughts away. They only brought up memories he wanted to scrub from his brain. ”Buenos dias, Alejandra.” 

“Mateo say good morning to Mr. Javi.” She said in Spanish. 

In English, Mateo said, “Good morning.” 

Ale lapsed back into English. “He doesn’t like to speak Spanish, but he can understand it.”

Javier caught sight of the half-full coffee pot.

“No Spanish.” Mateo shook his head. 

Javier forced a smile. He moved toward the coffee. “Are you the only two up?”

“Abuelo and Mr. Chucho went to work.” It was still hot. 

Two sets of dishes sat in the dish drainer. They were probably from his dad and Jaime. Was he supposed to feed someone’s children without their permission?

He took a deep breath. There was nothing to be scared of. They were kids. Little humans. All he had to do was ensure they didn’t die from eating. It was quite literally the easiest protection detail of his life. Why didn’t it feel like that way? 

“Have you two eaten?”

“I’m hungry,” Mateo said. 

Well, that answered that question.

“Mr. Chucho said he bought Lucky Charms.” 

And that explained the smiling, green leprechaun that greeted him at 5:30 am yesterday. It had startled him. His dad earned a good laugh from it. “Lucky Charms it is. Mateo?’

“Yes, please.” He didn’t look up from his coloring. 

Emily could hear Alejandra talking before she opened the bedroom door. That didn’t surprise her at all. She did not expect to find Javier leaning back in his seat, an arm slung over the chairback and the other pulling his coffee toward his mouth. Alejandra sat across from him. She chatted a million miles a minute. Javier nodded along eye’s trained on Mateo who shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth. 

“Mr. Javi, would you like a coloring page?” She didn’t look up. “I really like this coloring book, but I would let you have a page if you wanted one.”

“That’s ok, you keep coloring.”

Javier looked up, taking a sip of his coffee. She forced a smile. Something flashed in his eye. Emily couldn’t decode it. 

“Good morning,” he said. It was flat, like he didn’t know how to interact with her in daylight. 

Tension climbed up her spine. She could make it out in his smile. She could feel it in her own movements.

She took a deep breath and forced her own smile.“Good morning.” 

Emily crouched next to Alejandra’s chair. “Buenos dias, mí amorcita.” Her voice was soft and smooth. Her morning register sat a pitch or two lower than it usually did. She kissed Alejandra’s head.  

Alejandra stopped her coloring. She wore the biggest grin on her face. “Buenos dias, mami.” Her lips smacked against Emily’s cheek. She gave her mother her complete attention for a full two seconds before her head snapped back down to the coloring book. 

Emily repeated the greeting to Mateo. “Good morning, Mommy.” He said, mouth full. He kissed his mother's cheek leaving egg behind. 

Javier couldn’t suppress the small chuckle in his throat. Emily wiped the egg off her cheek with a laugh. She tousled Mateo’s hair. Emily looked at her children like they hung the stars. She looked at peace. It stood in stark contrast to the night and moments before. 

“There’s coffee in the kitchen. I can get you some.” Javier said.

“I can get it, thank you.” Emily moved into the kitchen as Alejandra’s chatter filled the space.

Mateo’s fork clinked onto the table, his mouth still full. “Done! More please.” 

“I think that’s up to your mom, Mateo.” 

Javier looked at Emily. She shrugged. “He’s hungry. Let him eat.” 

“He’s a bottomless pit you know. He’s already had 4.”

“Don’t forget the bowl of cereal!” Alejandra said. 

“And a bowl of cereal.” Javier added, pulling the eggs out of the fridge. 

Emily smiled over the rim of her coffee mug. “He out-eats me. I don’t know where he puts it all.” 

Javier chuckled as he moved to the stove. His shoulder brushed hers. She jumped back. Coffee splashed out of her mug. “Shit.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah… fine.” Emily wiped up her spill with a paper towel. She moved out of the kitchen space, taking a seat at the table. “Thank you for making the eggs.”

“Dad would have my hide if I didn’t make sure our guests were fed.”

“Speaking of dads, I thought mine would be up by now.”

“Pops dragged him out with the sun this morning.” Javier cracked the egg. It sizzled against the hot frying pan. “At least that’s what Alejandrina said.”

Emily looked at her daughter. “Alejandrina?”

“That’s my nickname from Mr. Javi.” She smiled. Alejandra might just have a new favorite person. “Abuelo was complaining, but he smiled so I think he was excited.”

“Sounds about right,” Emily said. 

She could see Javier out of the corner of her eye. He rested a hand on his hip as he watched the eggs cook. She took this opportunity to really look at him. She’d been too caught up with the kids yesterday and it was too dark last night to make out the details. He wore a simple white t-shirt and jeans that were skin-tight. 

Attraction wasn’t something Emily experienced anymore. It was sealed behind years of abuse and guarded by anxiety with no parole insight, but the sight of him in the kitchen made it peer through the cell doors, but attraction wasn’t the right word for what flooded her veins. Admiration felt too strong. Cautious curiosity maybe. Anxiety pushed it back into the corner. 

“What are we staring at?”

“What the-?” Emily’s coffee spilled into her lap. She rolled her eyes grabbing a napkin. Twice in one morning that was a new low. 

“You looked deep in thought.” Anna grinned. She followed Emily’s line of sight. Emily dared to let her eyes wander back up. Javier had moved out of sight.

“You know me, just my casual morning dissociation.” Emily sighed. It was probably going to stain. “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

Anna nodded. Javier appeared with more scrambled eggs. He hardly set it down before Mateo dug in. His fork narrowly missed Javier’s hand. 

“Woah, watch it with that thing.” Javier smiled. “You’re gonna take someone’s hand off.”

Mateo’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Sorry, Mr. Javi.”

“You got some ninja speed, kiddo.”

“Ravenous as always, I see.” Anna said. 

“Would you expect anything different?” Emily said.

“Mr. Javi?” Alejandra said. “Can we ride horses today?”

“I think we can make that happen, Alejandrina.”

...

Alejandra jumped from foot to foot, holding Jaime’s hand as she eagerly waited outside of the barn. Miguelito was more preoccupied by the lasso Chucho had taught him how to use as he practiced his technique with an old barrel. Mateo weaved through the adults as if they were traffic cones. 

Chucho led a horse out of the barn. Ale fought to contain a squeal. She wore a smile that threatened to break her face as Chucho brought the animal closer. “Ale, go up on the mounting block.” He instructed. 

Alejandra did as told. She held out her hand. The horse sniffed at it. She cautiously moved her small hand upward, resting it above his muzzle. He was mostly white with gray speckles that increased toward his hind until it looked almost gray. “What’s his name?”

“Hurricane.” Chucho said. He held out an apple, showing Alejandra how to hold it out to the horse before handing it to her. 

“Does he live up to the name?” Jaime asked. Hurricane plucked the apple from Ale’s hand with one bite. She giggled. 

“Used too. He’s mellowed with age. He was the first foal Javier trained.”

“And the last,” Javier said, leading out a mare. He tied her to the hitching post. “He was a pain in my ass.”

“Reminds me a lot of you,” Chucho said. 

Emily put one hand in front of the mare’s nose. She let the horse sniff at her palm before resting her other hand on her neck. The mare’s eye moved, connecting with Emily’s. Her hand stilled on Paz’s rich brown coat. They stayed like that, looking at each other. It felt like the horse saw everything behind her eyes, and for a moment the constant noise in her head stopped. 

The horse swung its head toward her. Emily took the smallest step back. The mare bobbed its head up and down, easing closer to her. Emily touched its forehead, her other hand rubbing its cheek. She rested her head against the mare’s. 

“That’s Paz. She’s the last one my wife trained.”

Emily smiled softly. She ran a hand over the horse's neck and moved along her side. “She’s beautiful.”

“I want to ride Hurricane,” Alejandra said. 

“Patience, mija,” Emily said. “Mateo, do you want to pet the horses?”

“They’re really big.”

Emily smiled and picked him up. She kissed his cheek. “Does this make it better?”

He nodded. His small hands stretched towards Paz in quiet admiration. Javier appeared with sugar cubes in hand. Mateo looked at him and Javier gave a little nod. Mateo plucked a sugar cube from his palm and dropped it in his mouth. 

Emily gasped, “Mateo.” But she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. The boy’s eyes grew wide. He knew what he did, and he knew he was going to get away with it.

“There’re those ninja reflexes again.” Javier chuckled. “You’re going to make Paz jealous, taking her sugar cubes like that.” He fed the horse the remaining sugar cubes.

“You get away with too much, little boy.” Emily kissed his head. 

“Mami, look.” Alejandra sat atop Hurricane as Chucho led them around.

“Looking good, Ale.” Emily smiled. 

“She's a natural,” Chucho said. 

“Abuelo, can we get a horse?” Alejandra asked. 

Jaime laughed. “I don’t think so. Where would we put it?”

“In the backyard.” 

“Our backyard isn’t big enough.”

Alejandra sighed. “Fine.”

“You can come ride horses here anytime, Alejandra,” Chucho said. “You and your family have an open invitation.”

“Thank you, Chucho,” Emily said.

“Can we come every day?”

The adults laughed. “No,” Emily said. “But I’ll make sure we get the chance to come back.”

“Have you ridden before, Emily?” Chucho asked.

“I used to ride in high school.”

“You did?” Jaime said. 

Emily nodded. It was an awkward reminder of the 15 years missing between them. “Yeah.”

“Perfect, you and Javier can go for a tour of the farm on horseback. We’ll watch the kids.” He gave her a knowing smile. 

 Emily did a double take. Did he see them last night? Did he think something was going on with them?

“You good with that, Jav? And can you check that the back fence is holding up while you’re out?”

“Sure thing, pops.” He nodded. “I’ll go saddle up Gracie.”

Jaime shot Emily a look. The one they’d perfected over the years. You good with this?

One short nod, unnoticeable to most. Yeah. 

Emily hooked her foot in the stirrup. It felt good to hoist herself up. She felt powerful and self-assured in the saddle. She was going to have to ride horses more often if it made her feel like this. 

“You’re a natural up there,” Chucho said. 

Javier led Gracie out of the stable. She was dark as the midnight sky from nose to tail. He pulled himself into the saddle next to Emily.

“We’ll be back by lunch,” Javier said.

 Chucho nodded. “Have fun.”

Emily looked at her children. “Listen to your grandparents.”

“We will. Have fun, Mami.” Alejandra waved. 

Javier steered his horse out of the corral. Emily followed behind. The pair stayed quiet. Javier pointed out random buildings and fields here and there. She responded with polite single words and noises. 

They kept on until they reached the backfield. Javier slid off his horse as he walked up to inspect the fence. Emily stayed in the saddle looking at the river that created the southern border of the property. She could see people on the other shore loading a small Jon boat. 

“That’s the Rio Grand?”

Javier didn’t look up from his inspection. “Yeah.”

She bit her lip. “So that’s Mexico.”

Javier stopped. He walked back over to the horses. “Have you been back since?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I forget how close we are.” 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think-”

“Don’t apologize. I’m okay.” 

Javier nodded, hands on his hip. “Everything’s good here. I thought we could go through the woods next.”

“You’re the guide.”

Javier mounted his horse. “That I am.”

Their horses walked beside each other. Javier held the reigns in one hand allowing his free hand to sit on his thigh. The sun warmed their backs.

 “Do the boats bother you?” Emily asked. 

“Boats?”

“The drug runners. You can see them from the backfield.”

Javier stayed quiet. “Do they bother you?”

“No.” Emily tilted her head to the side. “You still have to answer.” 

Javier guided them to the trailhead at the edge of the woods. 

“Yes,” Javier said once they were surrounded by trees. 

“Do you still work for the DEA? Dad’s mentioned trying to convince you to work for him at the Laredo office.”

“I’m on administrative leave.”

“What did you do?”

Javier said. “I exchanged information with Los Pepes in an attempt to catch Escobar.”

“Holy shit.”

“Not my finest moment.”

“We all have those.” 

“Yeah.”

A few birds chirped around them. Emily caught sight of squirrels and chipmunks scurrying around as they prepared for the winter. The horses huffed and bristled throughout their slow venture.

They came up on a small brook. The water trickled quickly over small stones. Javier slid off his horse. Emily followed suit. “We’ll let the horses drink here. It’s hot out today.”

She led Paz over to the brook. The horses eagerly lapped at the water. Javier pulled a canteen out of the saddle bag. He took a long sip.

“Do you know who El Señior de Los Cielos is?”

“Carillo Fuentes?” He wiped his chin. “He runs the Juarez cartel.”

“Yeah…” Emily ran her hand over Paz’s shoulder. “He’s my kids’ godfather.”

Javier coughed. Emily’s raised her eyebrows. 

“That can’t really be the most shocking thing I’ve told you.”

“No, I guess not.” He handed Emily the canteen. “Just caught me off guard I guess.”

“You’re slipping, Agent Peña.” She teased, taking a sip of the water. 

“I suppose I am.” Javier wanted to smile but it died on his lips. 

Emily continued to run her hands over the horse. Paz seemed to suck the anxiety right out of her. She could feel it draining from her system, soothing her beating heart. The breeze tangled in her hair. The perfect combination. Maybe she should join forces with Ale and convince her dad to buy a horse.

“I held my gun at a kid once. He was probably Miguelito’s age.” 

Emily snapped to him. He stared down at the ground, hands on his hip. Did he always stand like that? He glanced up at her. There was no judgment in her eyes. 

“Escobar, he armed people in the comunas, including children.” He scuffed his boot into the dry dirt. “I still have that dream once a week. Sometimes I pull the trigger. Other times he does.”

“What actually happened?”

“He ran away.”

“My therapist.” Javi looked up again, eyebrows raised. “Crazy, I know. Someone admitting they’re seeing a shrink.” She smiled. Javier’s chest shook with silent laughter. “Anyway, my therapists and I’ve had many, always tell me it’s not what you could’ve done, it’s what you did.”

She turned around, hand sliding over Paz’s neck and shoulder. The horse watched her. She felt calm, even as the confession floated close to her lips. 

Javier walked over, taking his place on the other side of the horse. He looked at her over the horse’s neck. She bit her lip, toying with Paz’s mane. “When I was in Mexico, I thought about killing myself more often than I like to admit.” Her breath was shaky. She managed to make eye contact with Javier. Emily would never know how. “And sometimes, I thought about taking my kids with me.”

Her eyes watered, but nothing spilled out. “Fuck… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t tell anyone this shit.”

Javier gave Paz a firm pat. He looked around. The autumn sun peeked through the changing leaves. “Nature is the best kind of listener. It doesn’t judge. It never tells your story for you.” 

He walked back to his horse, untying him. Emily watched him. She’d expected more from him, yet he gave her exactly what she needed. She hooked a foot in the stirrups, straddling the saddle. Paz shifted under her weight. They followed Javier, crossing the brook. The pair stayed quiet. The only sounds were the crunching underbrush and the trickle of water. 

“Does it help?” Javier looked back at her. “To tell yourself it’s what you did?”

She shrugged. “About 50% of the time. The rest of the time I just feel like a shitty mom.” A humorous grin played off her lips. It caught Javier off guard. He hadn’t expected the dark humor from her. “But the therapists seem pretty proud of themselves every time they say it.”

Javier let his chuckle loose this time. “Trust me, you’re anything but shitty.”

Emily inhaled deeply. “Thank you.”

...

Emily sat on the patio, one of her father’s cigarettes in hand. The moon was a little fuller tonight, just over half a moon. The full moon would come next week. She loved the glow of a full moon, but the sky of a new one and the sky full of twinkling stars it brought with it. 

She flicked the ash off her cigarette before pulling it to her lips. Her mind drifted back to what she’d said to Javier in the woods. She’d never told her dad about her suicidal ideations, yet here she was telling Jaivier less than 24 hours after meeting him. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he understood on a level a lot of people didn’t, and that included her father. 

Jaime had been in Mexico and hunted after the people she knew, but he hadn’t seen the same kind of violence. She knew the ease at which Felix ordered the execution of people near to him. She knew Colombia had been different. She’d overheard enough of her dad’s work calls, seen enough news footage, and recognized the look in Javier’s eyes. Fuck, she’d been sheltered from most of the gore and violence, only hearing about it. Javier had witnessed it. 

The sliding door squeaked and Javier’s head poked out, followed by the rest of him. He set a bottle and two glasses on the table. He pulled out his own pack of cigarettes. They said nothing. She sat. His signature silhouette was illuminated by the moon. 

Their cigarettes dwindled. She squashed hers in the ashtray. Glass clinked as Emily poured the whiskey. “Brought out the big guns tonight.” Her finger traced over the whiskey label. She could just make it out under the moonlight. 

“Why did you open up in the woods today?” Javier glanced over his shoulder. 

The glass stopped at her lips.“Why did you tell me about the kid in Colombia?”

He looked down. “I only ever told Steve, my partner in Colombia, about it. He was the only one who understood.”

Emily walked over. She stood at his side, offering him a filled glass. He took it. He swirled the whiskey. 

“I’ve seen a lot of fucked up shit. I’ve participated in some of it. That story… It’s not even the worst of it.” He took one last pull from his cigarette.

“Neither was mine… That was just the tip of the fucking iceberg, Javier.”

“I don’t think I’m a very good person.” 

“It sounds like you’ve done some fucked up stuff, but I don’t think you’re a bad person. Hell, the fact that I’ll sit out here alone with you is a miracle.”

He saw his out. He took it.“I was surprised you stayed out last night. You looked like you wanted to bolt.”

“I did, but I wanted to be outside more. To be honest, that little voice is in the back of my head right now, but it’s not because of anything you’ve done.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Trisha is gonna be proud when I tell her.” Emily finished off the whiskey in her glass.

“Trisha?”

“My therapist.” 

“So you’re hanging out with me just to impress your therapist?” He pulled out a smile. This was much safer territory. 

Emily laughed. Warmth spread through Javier’s chest. He hadn’t touched the whiskey 

“It’s not for the depressing conversation, that’s for sure.” She laughed again and he could feel it in his limbs. He shook his head, fighting back a smile as the glass met his lips.

“Smart ass.”

“I did pass with one of the highest GED scores.”

“What? Did they let you take it open book from home?”

Emily smacked his shoulder. “I had a proctor, thank you very much.”

They laughed. His shoulder brushed hers. Her muscles tensed, but she didn’t jump. Slow and controlled, she stepped back. 

He nodded. “If you need me to leave, it’s okay.”

“No.” It came out so fast. She sat on the chair closest to the house. “Just stay on that side of the patio.”

Javier nodded. He pulled the other chair to the opposite edge of the patio. Its metal legs grated against the cement. 

Emily cringed. “God, I hate that sound.” 

Javier gave the chair an extra push and shove with a smart-ass smile on his lips. Heightened anxiety still coursed through her veins, but she laughed.

Chapter 4 ->

Taglist: @phoenixinthewater

[rosieblogstuff]

He didn’t have time to pick at his ideas further because the door opened and the man appeared with two of his helpers. A desire to mock them filled Mac–in situations like this, taking the offensive held back fear–but asking the hired goons if their knuckles hurt would break his vow of silence, so he settled for glaring at all of them. “Time’s up,” Mugshot Man told him. “Do you have something to tell me, or are we moving on?” Mac kept his mouth pressed shut and looked away.  Mac barely had time to see movement out of the corner of his eye before a fist slammed into his gut. His breath exploded out of him in a pained whoomph as he rocked with the blow, jerking against the chairback he was tied to. He curled forward, hearing the horrible wheezing gasp that came out of his mouth as his lungs sought air.

(all of chapter 2 on AO3)

@macgyverbingo

[americangrove]

Chairback and Rhododendron, Yellow House