#he needs a proper send off for ed in the end and they understand that

[arsenicflame]

thinking about how all the rest of blackbeards crew had left by the time stede found the revenge

thinking about how ed was laid out in such a respectful way, like he was someone wanted to mourn

thinking about even after all he said, after mutinying on him, izzy could never really leave ed

thinking about how after all he did for them, all he lost, our crew couldn't leave him either

[gooeyyeehaw]

ofmd s2 spoilers !!

so two things i wanted to talk about that basically everyone is talking about, now that ive properly processed everything and need to officially get out of my system

i really really really wish the season had better, slower pacing. so much would happen before anyone could process anything and it took a loooot of thinking to truly understand some shit. i really really hope there's a season 3 with the proper amount of episodes as intended.

izzy's death - it truly felt so rushed. to be honest, i didn't even see him get shot at first, my eyes were on something else at the time, i think, but that's my fault. nevertheless, it felt so rushed, and i'm not mad, nor do i disagree with his death, but i wish it was executed better than it was. it felt brushed over, rushed, and he was too great a character to receive a death like that. it had me saying "what the fuck??" because his death was over in about two minutes. i'm not mad about how and when it took place, because it's just like real life, you don't get to choose when you get to live or die, especially in their business.

i did warm up to him and felt sad that he could finally recognize and declare his understanding of family and what it meant to be a part of the crew and never got to experience the warmth and joy of life; however, i think its okay that he died. con is a fantastic actor and his performance was astounding every scene. i think he deserved a better sending off and lucius and pete's wedding could have waited til season three, cuz that felt brushed over too.

stede and ed's inn - i used to not love this idea, more for a personal reason, the desire to have adventure in life. to not settle down and have fun all the time, to not conform to the normality and monotony of life. i get the emphasis about the brutality and harsh reality of the violence and mentality that comes with piracy, but it felt bittersweet especially with izzy's speech about what it meant to be a pirate and zys' offer to team up. it sounded fun. fun to be at sea with your found family, (on top of stede's long term love for the sea) and they were leaving that behind and it would just be then.

i later realized that them living together wouldnt necessarily mean theyre completely abandoning their old lifestyles. theyre just taking a break from the rough and tough shit they had just gone through, and they need it to work out their relationship and find themselves. to have some time alone. they might rejoin the crew and have fun sailing and shit, who knows. but it doesn't have to be that end forever. plus i like all the fun/funny ideas the fandom has come up with for the inn.

and ive seen the theories that if buttons can turn into a seagull, he'll turn izzy into a seagull OR izzy will come back as a ghost and haunt their inn OR they'll bring him back to life with magic.

just saying, the fandom was wrong about lucius living within the secret passages of the ship, please let them be wrong about that one.

[ohbrightnewday]

I totally agree aaron doesn't get enough love in the fandom. Tho tbf he is just Some Guy. What are your thoughts on him?

Note: this is coming from a place of sadness and evilness. Normally he’s just some plot device to me idk. There is a lot of hcs and thoughts here btw, also feel free to send more asks lmaoo

Hhh mentions eating disorders a little bit btw

So my big thing is that he’s so fucked up from his relationship with Regina. He was a token to her and neither of them really liked each other and he felt so pressured by her manipulation to get back into a relationship with her. With Regina being a deeply closeted lesbian, Aaron is just some token of status and worth, some guy she sort of kind of likes. Whereas I see Aaron genuinely loved her and is so fucked up by it all.

A lot of behaviours Regina displays, he gets so confused when Cady doesn’t display them too. So. I hc Regina has quite a bad ed and is also very controlling of other people’s food/body [seen a lot in how Regina treats Gretchen], and I see her being the same way with Aaron. Sometimes she’d eat some of her lunch, but at a point, he stops packing proper lunches because he doesn’t want Regina’s comments. She’s also intent on him going to the gym every day. He’s very confused when Cady doesn’t act like this and goes on dates to restaurants and eats etc

I hc he ends up with really bad anxiety and, as much as he tries to, he isn’t someone who can actually mask or hide it at all. If he has a panic attack, he’s having a panic attack right then and there. [As opposed to someone like Gretchen who will hide and suppress forever.] He doesn’t realise how bad his anxiety is because he just thinks it’s Normal that he can’t breathe or see or stop shaking when he’s around Regina.

Also, hc he already knows Regina is cheating on him with Shane which is why his reaction to Cady telling him is just “why would you tell me that?” Because he. already knows but it’s easier to let it happen than to confront it ever. He wants to be loved by Regina so badly

He’s deeply mediocre at everything. He’s never been good at anything at all, he’s just okay at everything and it fucks with him so much, especially when he finds out he isn’t even That Good at maths. Aaron can do okay at everything but perpetually feels like disappointment because he isn’t perfect or better. Also following from this, bad relationship with his parents and they’re quite absent.

Older brother to a sister who’s a few years younger than him. He’s very good at being an older brother and sacrifices a lot for her. Following from this, he cooks for her a lot but he isn’t that good at cooking so it’s just the most mediocre and basic things [again, because he’s just okay at a lot of things].

Bonus hcs:

Big brown eyes that go all soft and dark when he’s sad about something

Token neurotypical who understands Cady’s autism so well. This is based off me and my partner, but if somethings too loud for her [like when a train pulls in] but doesn’t go on long enough to need headphones, he puts his hands over her ears. Cady is equally as understanding about his anxiety [however. Cady and Aaron do not date that long because Cady was mostly just a bit hyperfixated and needed to fit in. For awhile, Aaron is convinced this is because he did something wrong even though it Isnt]

[jjackrabbitt]

Miss Peregrines Museum of Wonders, chapters 1-3

Bet you anything that peculiars have arguments over who can call themselves by what label or who can call themselves peculiar, similar to terminally online people who think ace people ain’t queer enough

We really got Riggs (unintentionally?) writing queer theory on how labels are kinda useless

Hey how come Noor doesn’t get an invite to annotate about light shapers, she’s one. And she’s new here too, shouldn’t this book also be written for her?

Finn!! Shapeshifters!!!! >:)

“Only ymbrynnes can shapeshift” my ass. If most ymbrynnes have to go to their special school to learn how to shift properly, would that not apply to other shapeshifters? Maybe some peculiars have no peculiarity in evidence because they were never given the opportunity to learn how to shapeshift.

Well damn if making animal noises in a way animals understand makes you peculiar then I guess I better go find an Ymbrynne :/

Oop there it is, Alma doesn’t agree on who should be called what

I think it’s inhumane for the ymbrynnes to have sent Sweedlepipe somewhere he couldn’t talk to trees. That’s a kind of isolation. I can’t even talk to plants, I’m just going to school to be an enthobotanist, and I’d be pissed the fuck off if someone tried to tell me no plants. Even people who don’t talk to plants need them.

Oh okay so y’all want to hear ‘bout folk healers? So my anthropology professor (Ed, he’s great) was a nurse for a long time and he worked down near the Gullah-Geechee people. He had this one patient, an old Gullah man, who had astronomically high blood pressure. They did everything for this man; diets, physical therapy, meds. If you can think of it, they did it. His daughters were the ones sending him to the doctor on the mainland, they wanted him to get proper medical care (and this is not an anti-professional medicine story, professional medicine is absolutely necessary and useful). His sister wanted him to go down the street and see their folk healer. So they try everything for this man and nothin works, not a thing. So one week he goes down the street to see his folk healer, he knows them personally and has been seeing them for his entire life. And they have a good time catching up and his healer checks him over and at the end his healer tells him what he needs to do. He needs to boil Spanish moss in water and pour that into his shoes and leave it sitting for a while. Then wear the shoes. And he does, for a couple weeks he does this. He goes back to his doctor at the hospital and they check his numbers and he’s got absolutely beautiful blood pressure. Like there was never a damn thing wrong with him. To this day, it’s been like 20 years since this happened, Ed will tell this story to all his classes and he is always so excited about it, and I am too because that’s what ethnobotany is. They checked this man over, top to bottom, every test they could do, they checked the moss and the water and his shoes and they talked to his folk healer and they couldn’t find a thing to hint at what fixed this guy. No chemicals in the moss or water that would be affecting him. Nothin special about his feet. The folk healer wouldn’t give them a satisfactory explanation, as is their right, no one’s gotta tell you anything. So yeah. Ed’s theory is an anthropological one, that because this guy trusted his folk healer he was susceptible to treatment in a way that he wasn’t with the doctor, and that is a legit and respectable argument in the anthropological community. Hell, I believe it, that’s just a way that human brains can work. But it does tempt me to think it could be peculiars.

All plants are sentient if you look close enough

There should be more on peculiar plants

Oh no fuckin way Doyle would be able to keep his mouth shut about peculiars he would have told every person he ever met about peculiars in detail. Absolute clown of a man.

May Jeremy Bentham’s name be erased from history and I’d like very much to do irreparable damage to his mummy by pissing on it.

Oh oh the sheer bitchiness of the Jeremy Bentham section is delicious though

Okay more evidence for Myron Trans: changed his last name and for why? Because he’s trans and wanted a better surname.

Do you all know how much I hate Jeremy fucking Bentham’s shit-clogged guts? I’m going to resurrect him just to kill him again. Fuckin panopticon bullshit, “oh everyone will behave if they feel that everyone’s watching them at all times”, if there is no privacy there is not freedom and moral utilitarianism is such inconsiderate, capitalist and status quo upholding pig shit. Cop behaviour.

Stink-ass.

Ironic that he’d propose the panopticon when he had to keep being peculiar a secret though. Idiot, thought he’d be immune to observation.

[nightingaelic]

One I've always been infuriated by: you can't take a companion to Honest Hearts because the caravan is at capacity, but you can get Ricky kicked out. So New Vegas companions follow the Courier to Zion: what hilarity ensues?

Arcade Gannon: While Arcade is absolutely not a fan of Caesar's Legion, he's reserved enough not to shoot the Burned Man as soon as he appears, and he may even test the former Malpais Legate's philosophy and convictions in some sparring of wits once he feels comfortable enough [Speech 75]. Arcade thinks that Graham has replaced Caesar in his life with God, switching out a human tyrant for a nebulous deity: Graham argues that Arcade's desire for a wishfully-thought, balanced world springs out of an unsatisfied need for internal harmony, one he might find through spirituality. The courier can only stand an hour or so of this back-and forth before giving up and leaving Angel Cave to go find some geckos to hunt. Follows-Chalk amuses Arcade, and he encourages the young scout's desire to explore pre-war ruins: After all, there's always something to be learned by studying who and what came before you. Waking Cloud earns Arcade's utmost respect with her knowledge of medicine and of the canyon's natural order, but he would likely be disappointed with Daniel's and Graham's encroaching influence on the Sorrows' faith.

Craig Boone: Fight on sight with Joshua Graham, which leaves the Burned Man's bandages a little bloodier than normal but is ultimately broken up by the courier before any real harm is done. A shouting match ensues in the middle of the Dead Horses' camp, with Boone airing all of Graham's atrocities at maximum volume and the courier admitting skepticism of the man's change of heart, but still wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Boone wins and the Dead Horses must be convinced of Graham's crimes in the wider world [Speech 100], or the New Vegas visitors beat a hasty retreat from Zion [Speech 85/100]. Maybe the courier wins and Boone realizes that the Burned Man already lives a life wreathed in the pain he inflicted during his decades of Legion service and the eternal mark of Caesar's fury. Either way, Boone is on edge for the remainder of the time in Zion Canyon, and doesn't make too many friends. Follows-Chalk takes a shine to him though, and Boone admits that the scout makes for a decent spotter. I don't think Boone would form a strong connection with Zion until encountering the diaries of Randall Dean Clark, and realizing that the people the courier was trying to save were the chosen loved ones of a man not unlike himself.

Lily Bowen: Having Lily along on the trip to Zion might give some of the other caravan members a chance of surviving, as I don't think the White Legs are used to encountering super mutants and would probably falter anyway at a courier backed up by a giant nightkin grandmother swinging around a vertibird blade [Terrifying Presence]. The Burned Man's appearance in the canyon doesn't bother or even interest her, but she loudly laments the Dead Horses' practice of hunting bighorners rather than taming them. In contrast, Lily loves the Sorrows' treatment of Zion's wildlife, particularly their domestication of geckos. The tame geckos are terrified of her. Of all the inhabitants of Zion, Lily would best relate to Waking Cloud, finding common ground with the tribal midwife on topics like motherhood, the uprooting of a happy life and respect for nature. I think the courier would recognize this bond and even give Lily the chance to complete White Bird's rite of passage herself, defeating the Ghost of She with the courier and Waking Cloud's help. Lily would be most likely to leave Zion with more friends and family than when she entered it.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Apart from being somewhat of a living ghost himself, I don't think Raul would have much in common with Joshua Graham. While they're both trying to atone for mistakes they've made, their respective mistakes are in completely different time zones. Plus, I don't think Graham talks to ghouls much, thanks to his history with the Legion. Maybe Raul would share a tip with the Burned Man about .45 maintenance, maybe some helpful info about caring for damaged skin if he's feeling generous, but their relationship wouldn't go far beyond that. Like Boone, the story of the Father in the Cave strikes a chord with the old ghoul, and he might seek out Clark's final resting place with the courier to give the man a proper send-off and burial. Similarly, I think he would sympathize with Daniel and his attempts to help the Sorrows, and what bond he might have built with Graham would instead grow with the Mormon missionary. On the side, though, I think he might teach some Sorrows a few phrases in Spanish to heckle the man with, just for fun [Wild Wasteland].

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Convincing Cass to accompany the courier to Zion in the first place would probably be a feat in and of itself [Barter 62], and once the White Legs appear over the horizon and start assaulting the caravan, Cass might just admit out loud that she and any crew she travels with are cursed. From there, every new piece of the story would entertain her to no end. The most wanted man in Caesar's Legion is just hiding out in a canyon in Utah. The remnants of Vault 22's inhabitants are scattered all over the landscape, meaning Ricky would've eventually been caught in his lie if he'd actually made it to Zion. The Mormons are here, and they're arguably more enthusiastic about proselytizing the tribes than they are about helping them escape and defend themselves. I think Cass would be the most angry and vocal about that last part, and might even wind up arguing with Graham and Daniel about how the only part of their faith they should be spreading right now is the belief in making amends for their actions: Namely, leading the White Legs to Zion in the first place. She would probably be the only one of the companions to propose going to Salt-Upon-Wounds and discovering the tribe's motivations and the manipulations of Ulysses and Caesar, and maybe convincing the war chief that he is being used [Speech 100].

Veronica Santangelo: The Brotherhood Scribe finds a kindred spirit in Follows-Chalk, and the two quickly become fast friends. The young scout happily shares the history and practices of the Dead Horses with her, and in return, Veronica tells stories about the wonders of New Vegas that she has seen while traveling the Mojave with the courier. Joshua Graham creeps Veronica out though, but her own curiosity leads her to prod the courier into interrogating the Malpais Legate by proxy. Like Cass, Veronica would be annoyed with the Mormons' roles among the tribes, but unlike Cass, she lacks the knowledge and context needed to convince them to take some steps back. She is, however, good at tracking down evidence to back up her suspicions, and she and the courier might be able to find evidence of the Legion's influence on the White Legs by poking around their camps [Sneak 73]. Veronica is also in awe of Waking Cloud, particularly of her skill with the yao guai gauntlet. Once she's picked her jaw up off the floor, the Scribe asks the midwife to show her some techniques and help her affix some yao guai claws to her own power fist [Unstoppable Force].

ED-E: The little robot is a huge novelty in the Zion Canyon, and ED-E hams it up for every curious individual that approaches it in the Dead Horses camp and the Narrows. The courier can't help but smile with every quizzical beep, bounce and zoom around the members of the tribes, but they keep the robot closer in Zion to protect against White Legs storm drums and tomahawks. ED-E enjoys spotting trail markings for Follows-Chalk and tracking animals with Waking Cloud. The robot doesn't understand who Daniel is, but knows from reading his body language that he is sad. Not as sad as the man in Angel Cave, though.

Rex: As soon as Rex sets foot in the Zion Canyon, he hears danger on the wind and warns the courier. The caravan is therefore on edge before the inevitable attack, and less likely to perish in the ensuing battle. Like ED-E, Rex doesn't know who Joshua Graham is, but he knows he doesn't trust him: He smells like a wildfire, inside and out. Neither the Dead Horses nor the Sorrows keep dogs, and some members of the tribe are actively afraid of Rex, associating him with the mongrels that run ahead of White Legs raiding parties. The Sorrows are more forgiving, and Rex shows them their trust is well-placed by allowing them to pet him and inspect his mechanical parts when he lies before the campfires to rest at the courier's feet.

[styleshollands]

Jealous Harry *____* with 12,18,27 (angst and smuttt)

JEALOUS | h.s.

Summary: Harry wants to remind you that you're his girl.

Warnings: poorly written smut & a lil angst, talk of hospitals

A/N: hope ya like it! feel free to send in requests!

"H, could you please zip this up for me?" You had been struggling to zip your flowy, beautifully patterned dress for the past 5 minutes with no avail. "Your husband to the rescue." You rolled your eyes at his words, your cheeks heating up as his fingers brushed against your warm skin. He leaned down and pressed kisses to the base of your neck, slipping his hand to the front of your dress, grasping your breast. "Harry, fuck, stop, we've gotta go." He let out a breathy chuckle, turning you around in his arms. Before he could join your lips, 2 little footsteps came rushing into the room. "Mom! Mom! Mumma! Mummy!", your 3 year old exclaimed. You giggled, removing yourself from your husbands arms and picking up your son. "What's up, Eddy?" "I wan' go now." You turned to look at your husband with a joking scowl, "Well, tell that to Daddy over there. He's takin' too long, isn't he?" Your son began squirming in your arms, meaning he wanted to be let down so you complied. His little legs carried him over to his father, who's pant leg he began to tug. "Dada, I want to go now! Please!" Harry chuckled, "Alright bub, alright! Go and put ya' shoes on, then we'll leave, alright?" Without another word, minus the tiny squeal he let out, Edward raced to put on his shoes. "Can't believe we did that, huh?", Harry said proudly. "Best thing we've ever done." He grinned and placed a kiss on your lips. "Let's go!" You heard Eddy let out from the living room, causing you both to laugh. "Fussy, that one." "He gets it from you, H." "Oh, sod off!"

You and Harry had been at the party for about an hour and he was at his wits end. He was sick and tired of watching every person look his wife up and down as they walked through the rooms, hand in hand. You were deep in conversation with one of your coworkers, who was looking everywhere but your eyes. His eyes scanned the room for Mitch, whom he would hand Eddy to. "Ed, let's go find Uncle Mitch, yeah?" "Okay!" Harry walked around the room, finally finding Mitch who happily took Eddy from him. "Where're you off to?" Mitch questioned. "To find m'wife." And with that, Harry stalked off, making a beeline for his wife. When he spotted her, he swiftly went behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Hi, H! This is Adam, one of the nurses at the hospital." Harry stuck his hand out, the other remaining on your waist. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles." Adam said shaking Harry's hand. "Your wife is one of the best trauma surgeons I've ever met!" Harry's jaw clenched. "She is the best. If youll excuse us." You were being dragged away by the arm before you could even utter a goodbye to Adam. Within seconds, you were inside a bathroom, the door locked by Harry. "What the fuck, Harry? I was talking to him." His eyes harderned, nostrils flaring. "Well, talk to me now."

You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes at his behavior. Although, you immediately regretted it when he delivered a spank to your ass with his other hand. "Do that again and you'll regret it." You let out a meek "yes sir" and lowered your eyes to the ground. Harry pulled your panties down to your knees and hiked your dress up to your hips. "Now, 'm going to fuck the life out of ya', understand?" "Yes, sir." Within a split second, he had stripped his lower half and his cock was aligned with your enterance. His hips snapped forward and his length was buried fully inside you without any warning. You cried out in pain and he continued to move his hips, not usually allowing you to adjust like usual. "H, it hurts." He stopped his movements with a sigh, giving you a minute to breathe. "Proper pissed off at ya', you know?" "Wanna tell me why?" His shoulders slumped a little and he pinched his eyes shut. "'M not mad at ya'. Just jealous." You smiled a little, your hands starting to massage his shoulders. "I know. You've got nothing to be jealous about, H. I married you. Had your baby, remember?" His face broke out into a smile and he looked into your eyes. "Just love ya' too much to ever lose ya'" "You will never lose me. Now, please get moving, want you to fuck me." "Your wish is my command."

His hips picked up a slow movement, hands softly holding your hips. He ducked his head into your neck, leaving feathery kisses and lovebites. You pressed your hips into his leading to his cock curving deliciously within your heat, hitting your g-spot. "Harry.", you moaned almost pornographically. This only egged him on and he brought a hand to your clit, beginning to rub furious circles. You clenched around him and he knew he was close. "Come for me baby, c'mon." His hand continued to rub your clit and he attached his mouth to your nipple. His tongue worked wonders on your bud and you felt all the blood rush to your head from the pleasure. Before you knew it, you came undone which pushed Harry over the edge too. Panting, he pulled out of you and grabbed tissues to help you clean up. "Think I just gave ya' another baby." Harry chuckled as he pulled your panties back up and readjusted your dress. "I think so too, you dork." "Hey! It's this dork who's name ya' were chanting." "Oh fuck off, you nonce." He offered you a boyish grin and pressed a kiss to your lips. "Now c'mon I wanna make out with you in front of everyone, wanna show you off." You giggled, "Don't you think that's a little extreme?" "Absolutely not! You're my girl. Everyone needs to know that." "Think the ring on my finger and the child who looks like both of us running around is telltale enough, no?" Harry couldn't help but blush as you wove your fingers with his. "Love ya', even though you're a smart ass." "Your smart ass."

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Vegas: epilogue

With the extremely unorthodox event over with, the family were to be rayshifted back to Novum Chaldea.

Da Vinci: ok.... with all that terrible stuff finally over with, it's time to bring you all back!

Mari: finally, I'm tired from all this.

Quetz: si, I'm ready to go back.

Da Vinci; right, just hold on tight I'm gonna get started right awa-

*static*

Rex: huh?!

Ed: what happened?!

*the visuals are restored, but instead of Da Vinci it's BB that's seen*

Mari: BB?!

BB: uh, no time to explain. Time for you all to go back to your proper time!

Quetz: eh? I thought you'd want to mess with us more?

BB: things have changed, it's better you all go back!

Rex: uh, ok then....

Then the Rayshifting sound was heard before a flash of light covered the family's sight. They then found themselves back at the Yucatan house.

Ed: wait?! What are we doing here?!

Mari: we were supposed to be in Alaska!

???: that's because I am the one who brought you all here.

The family turned to see the source of the voice. It was actually one of Quetz's brothers, Huitzilopochtli. He seemed to be standing in what looked to be a portal.

Quetz: hermano.... what are you doing here?

Huitz: I am here only to tell you what we have planned, unfortunately.

Quetz, looking annoyed: que es eso? What do you mean?

Huitz: after the growth that your children have shown and the seemingly inevitability of the prophecy being fulfilled. We've decided the best thing to do is to shut the gates of the heavens and underworld, stranding you and any allies to the earth.

Quetz: What?! Are you all out of your mind?! Do you not realize the constant of that?! What of the human souls?!

Huitz: for the time being, until we can find a way around this, they'll have to be stranded aswell.

Quetz: that's insane!!!!

Huitz: lo siento, hermana. But we cannot afford to allow you and your family to bring an end to the 5th world. And this seems to be the best choice for the time being. Goodbye sister.

Quetz: wait!

The portal Huitzilopochtli was standing in closed. And it seemed there wasn't much to be done.

Rex: what the.....

Mari: why would they.....?

Ed: well.... now what?!

Quetz: I do not know.....

Rex: well.... despite what he said, I doubt they can figure out a way to allow human souls back in without also allowing us in. So.... eventually it'll have to open up again.

Quetz: but what will we do until then?

Rex: well... maybe we can finally live that more normal life we wanted?

Quetz: normal?

Rex: well it seems they finally decided to stop sending monsters to attack the kids, so without that being a problem, we can finally stop worrying about that!

Mari: oh.... yeah, you're right!

Ed: huh... yeah, we can stop worrying.

Quetz: but even so... we'll still need to be ready for when the gates finally open up!

Rex: well, we'll still be preparing for that, but it won't be such a huge priority. Not until the time comes. The kids just need to learn to properly control their abilities.

Quetz: well how do you think we should do tha-

???: Hermana!

Before Quetz could finish that thought, someone else chimed in. It was Tlazolteotl and a few others.

Tlaz: Quetz, what happened? Why can't we leave the mortal realm?!

Quetz: The other gods... shut the gates to the heavens and the underworld so that we cannot enter anymore.

Tlaz: que?! They'd seriously go that far?!

Quetz: looks like it.

Then Coyolxauhqui, another of Quetz's sisters also had something to say.

Coyo: so we're stranded here?! How long will the gates be closed?!

Rex: we don't know, but it's likely not forever. They'll eventually have to open up.

Mari: or we'll have to bust in ourselves.

Tlaz: so what do we do then?

Rex: well.... we kind of wanted to see if we can just live a relatively normal life for the time being. Since no one will be hunting the kids anymore.

Tlaz: oh.... I guess that's a good point.... verga, how long has it been?

Quetz: five years....

Coyo: pinche madre....

Rex: but we'll still need to be prepared for when it all comes back again. We're just not sure how to.

Tlaz: sounds like they'll maybe need some help in learning.

Ed: wait..... are you guys going to help us understand these powers better?

Tlaz: well.... I cannot but.... I do happen to know someone who can help you hijo..... aye, never thought I'd have to talk to him again....

Ed: who?

Quetz: we can talk about him a bit later....

Mari: and what about me?!

Coyo: well I may also know.... someone... who'll be able to teach you...

Mari: well tell me then!

Coyo: *sigh* it's Itzpa....

Rex: really? Interesting.

Mari: ok, Coyo shared. Tlaz you gotta too!

Quetz: mija, don't force it on her.

Tlaz: no.... she's right. I already have to talk to the fucker, avoiding his name is nothing. It's... Chocl.... he can help Ed.

Quetz: QUE?! But you hated him!?

Tlaz: si pero..... he's the perfect teacher, and.... this is much bigger then that.

Rex: wow... swallowing your pride for the kids?

Tlaz: let's not... until we get there, por favor.

Mari: ok then. Sounds good.

A/N: so there's the epilogue more or less to the Vegas story. There's technically a few more loose-ends but with time that'll be resolved. So for the time being, the other divine realms are off limits unfortunately. And a good number of gods are now stranded too....

Tags

@havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong @hasspartacusdoneanythingwrong @haskamadoneanythingwrong @hasbbdoneanythingwrong @hasjalterdoneanythingwrong

[cosplayingwitch]

Just the Beginning

Chapter Four/Five of my "Finding My Way Home" series.

Poe Dameron x Reader

Summary: in this imaginary world, the covid pandemic is over enough for the reader to finish her research, get her degree, and go out celebrating it. After an evening of drinking, the reader flashes back to how the two of you met.

Warnings: drinking and swearing

Prompt: Flashback

(not my photo, found on a google images search)

You’d done it. Your dissertation defense was successful. You could officially start calling yourself “Doctor”. Not that you really wanted to. A simple PhD at the end of your name would do nicely.

You called the only person you knew who would fully understand what this meant to you. The man who’d been by your side since the beginning. Poe Dameron. Your best friend.

“I DID IT!” You shouted into the phone when he answered.

“I KNEW IT! Congrats!” he yelled back at you.

Then a stunned silence hit you. You’d actually finished it. Your ultimate goal- achieved. “What now?”

Apparently you’d said that last part out loud, because Poe almost yelled at you,

“You go out and celebrate is what you do! It’ll be what, five hours for you to get back here? Just in time for the bars and stuff to open! I know you’d never been much for partying, but this is a special occasion.”

Poe already seemed to be planning something, but you didn’t mind. This was a special occasion.

So you headed out, to go see your best friend and probably go dancing and drinking.

Late that night, after drinking way too much and dancing with strangers until the place closed, you sat in your apartment with your best friend. In your drunken state, you asked Poe (who insisted on being the designated driver so you could celebrate as wild as you wanted) if he remembered how you met.

“Of course I do. It’s not every day someone meets their... best friend and hits it off immediately. Like we did.”

He almost slipped. He almost said that it’s not every day someone meets their soulmate. Or the love of their life. Not exactly something he was ready to admit to you.

Even if you both had your suspicions about the other. Neither of you were ready for the (remote) possibility of a rejection and subsequent implosion of your friendship.

A friendship that had begun about a decade earlier.

You had just walked into your first class on your first day of your undergrad. Still in that kind of high school-preppy kind of attitude, you have a whole color coded notebook-binder situation set up, waiting on the start of class. This was the class that cemented your path in life:

Intro to Anthropology.

See, to get into the archaeology classes you had to have this class first. And so here you were.

Poe, however, had a different idea of what the class was. He needed a humanities credit that wasn’t in the history department, so he decided to get it over with early. Intro to Anthropology was listed as a gen ed option, so here he was.

Unlike you, Poe did not show up with color coded systems 10 minutes early. He showed up five minutes late with what can only be described as crayons and printer paper to take notes. And sat directly next to you.

So how the hell did you end up being friends?

The first day of class left you with a lot of questions about him. And while he did eventually get himself more put together throughout the semester (an actual notebook, pens and pencils instead of crayons, etc.), you still had some questions and doubts about this guy. It wasn’t until the week before midterms that anything beyond greetings had gone on between you.

After class, he’d asked if you’d be able to help him study. He had, after all, seen your very organized nature. Luckily he’d caught you in a good mood, so you’d agreed to meet him in the library the next day. But it was under one condition- it was to be absolutely platonic, it would not evolve into a date under any circumstances. Poe agreed.

This study session in the library went wonderfully, both of you felt prepared for the test, and you ended up acing it (Poe, however, never told you the grade he had gotten on that test).

The study group, which really only consisted of the two of you, met for every test that semester. By the end, you both knew you were meant to be friends.

You broke from your flashback and thought- maybe we knew we were meant to be more? But stopped yourself from saying it.

Poe remembered things a little differently. His showing up to class wasn’t crayons and printer paper. It was loose leaf lined paper and a large, ‘my first pencil’, pencil. He’d forgotten he had an early class that morning, so those were the only options at the drugstore up the street (the only place to stop that’s open that early on a Monday and also on his way to class).

So, yeah, his first day was a comical disaster. But he fixed things and showed up to the next class on time and with proper supplies.

With midterms coming up and his notes a mess, Poe approached you about studying because he considered you to be the most organized person in the class, so he’d have the best chance of passing with your help. And the ‘completely platonic’ clause you insisted upon? Perfectly fine. He was never really been into super organized people- they tended to be control freaks.

But you were different, Poe could tell after your first meeting. So he started calling it your ‘study group’, even though it was only ever the two of you. And you met before every test (Professor Organa gave a lot of tests that semester).

By the end, he knew he would be friends with you for a long time yet.

Maybe eventually more than friends?

Poe snapped out of his flashback to stop himself. The agreement from the beginning was that this was completely platonic, and that’s how it would stay.

Then he heard it. You were coming out of your flashback too. And in your blackout drunk status, you blurted out to Poe that you loved him. And he told you he loved you too.

But she’s drunk, he thought. She doesn’t mean it. She’s drunk.

But you did, in fact, mean it.

You woke up the next day somewhere around noon with the worst possible hangover. Seriously, you thought, this was how you celebrated becoming an accomplished academic? By going out and partying like you were in your undergrad years again?

Poe laughed when you slowly made your way from your room in a bathrobe, slippers, and sunglasses. He’d been up for a couple hours at this point.

Actually, he never really slept. He couldn’t get over your drunken admission.

Constantly, he went back and forth between ‘she meant it, sometimes alcohol makes people admit things they never would when sober’ and ‘she was very, very drunk, it meant nothing’.

So he asked you a simple question.

“Hey, how much do you remember of last night?”

You decide to lie to him. You were so drunk you admitted your love for him. You couldn’t let this jeopardize anything.

“Almost nothing. That had to be one hell of a party, eh?”

But you did have a small gap in your memory- you didn’t remember him reciprocating the feeling.

Disappointed, Poe returned to his self-appointed task of making breakfast. With his limited cooking skills, that meant toaster waffles. Luckily he’d learned how to not burn them when you were still undergrads. That’d been a joke between the two of you for years, but neither of you had mentioned that for years.

“Hey! You better not burn my waffle!”

That’s all it took to send you both into laughing fits, just like old times before major jobs and fancy degrees.

Just two friends goofing around in their apartment.

But it couldn’t last much longer.

You’d be leaving in a couple weeks for your next big adventure, leaving Poe behind in the apartment, with his boring university library job, almost the same one he’d had since you two were master’s students together.

And as much as you didn’t want to leave him without telling him how you felt, you did.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Edmund x Reader- I’m Sorry

Could you please do an Edmund x reader angst in which he won’t let you to go on any missions with him, something you had been doing much longer than you had been with him, which makes you frustrated. Could the reader say something like “I won’t be here when you get back” and he doesn’t believe her bc she’s “said that before” but to prove a point she does run away to a friends in a village. Ed returns home, panic ensues. You’re found, loads of angst. You can choose the ending. Sorry that was long

You nearly screamed in frustration as you watched Edmund strap his sword to his side. “I am more than capable! Let me come with you!” You begged for the millionth time in the past hour. He was being unreasonable and you had about had it.

“The answer is no! We don’t need any more than we already have, it’s a simple visit west,” Edmund reasoned but you could tell he was frustrated. His cheeks were red and his teeth clenched. He was tired of this conversation but so were you.

“Fine!” You shouted, “I won’t be here when you get back!” 

Edmund scoffed, walking past you as he left your shared bedroom. But not before yelling over his shoulder, “I’ve heard that before! It’d be a miracle if you did leave, then I’d finally get a break from you!”

Your heart sank as the door shut quickly. You sank to the floor, back pressed against your bed as your fiery mood was extinguished. “Asshole,” you cursed softly at your husband who was probably already at the stables now, leaving you behind again. 

You were sick of being stuck inside. You wanted to adventure, you wanted to help if he needed it. You didn’t want to be seen as a useless wife. Marrying Edmund had been one of the best things you’d ever done but for some reason he had grown more protective. He absolutely detested the thought of you going with him when he was on official business, as if there would be trouble. 

Sniffling, you pulled yourself together and packed a small bag. If he wanted a break from you then he would get one. 

--

Edmund arrived as the sun was setting, back aching and mind numb. He just wanted to have a nice meal, curl up with you, and go to sleep. It had been a useless journey, a messenger finding him and his company of men three quarters done with their travel only to report that the representative that was expected to meet with them was ill and couldn’t make it. Why would you possibly want to come with him?

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he returned his horse to their stable, thinking about the fight you two had had. Edmund knew he shouldn’t have said what he did but he had just gotten so frustrated with you. He worried about your safety constantly, you were the most important person in his life and he couldn’t bear being without you. 

On the off chance something did happen one of these days, he didn’t want you to be caught in the crossfire so time and time again he said no. 

“Y/N?” He called out as he entered your bedroom, the low light of a still burning candle casting menacing shadows on the wall as he ran a hand through his stiff hair, wincing as his fingers caught on the unruly mess. “Y/N, come out please, I’d like to talk!” 

Edmund made his way towards your bathroom, assuming you were taking a bath as you usually liked to do to relax when the both of you got irritated with one another. But, to his surprise, you weren’t there. He supposed it wasn’t very odd, you liked to wander around the castle because you could never stay still for long. 

“Lucy!” Edmund called out as he found his sister leaving the dining hall. “Have you seen Y/N?” 

Lucy shook her head, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I thought you knew, didn’t you see that her horse was gone when you got back?” 

Edmund paled. “W-what do you mean her horse is gone? Where could she have gone?” 

“I don’t know!” Lucy squeaked back as Edmund started to get nervous. She never liked seeing her brother upset. “I thought you knew, I’m sorry. I’m sure she’s just gone out for a bit,” 

“And I’m sure she hasn’t...” Edmund groaned, wringing his hands together, “I-I said something before I left today and oh god...” He couldn’t finish his thought as he raced back to the stables. “Lucy send some men out to find her, I want her home tonight!” He ordered over his shoulder, his sister more than happy to comply. She was worried too, you were family. 

Edmund’s stomach churned with every minute that passed. He hadn’t meant it! Of course he didn’t want a break from you, he just wanted you safe. It seemed he had forgotten that he wanted you to be happy as well. You were his peace of mind after a long day and now that you weren’t home he was going insane. 

He didn’t care if you stayed out late or accidentally got caught up in a book, forgetting to come to dinner. It was fine that you lived your life, but he surely wanted to know when you left cair paravel! It wasn’t safe this time of night for anyone to be traveling on their own. Edmund had seen the horrors of the world and even if it was a time of peace, he couldn’t help but fear for you.

The more time passed where he didn’t know if you were okay or not, the more he worried, his mind running wild. What if your horse had been spooked and tossed you from their back, injuring you and running away? What if you had taken a walk after tying up your horse, rolling your ankle somewhere or slipping and hitting your head? Or worse, what if you had been attacked by bandits? What if his sweet wife was laying somewhere, alone and dying?

His chest was tight, the hairs on the back of his neck standing tall as he worked himself up. Everything felt hot and suffocating despite the wind that rushed past him as he raced throughout the surrounding land, calling your name. 

“Your highness!” Came a voice on the wind and Edmund immediately halted, heading straight for the soldier who stood tall in his saddle. “I have found her,” 

“Take me to her,” Edmund demanded. “Now!” He stressed as the poor soldier stalled. It was understandable why the young king was so distressed. 

Edmund followed the nervous soldier to a small town on the outskirts that he hadn’t even thought to gone to. Your horse was tied to a dainty home, chewing at the tall grass. 

“Y/N!” He shouted, jumping from his horse and pounding fiercely at the door, even as his knuckles ached at the force of it.

You sighed at the sound of your husband’s voice, your friend rolling her eyes as her story was interrupted. “I told he’d come,” You tried to keep the pride out of your voice. 

You opened the door and you were expecting a proper fight now, positive that Edmund would be angry with you. Instead, he shoved past the threshold and gathered you up in his arms. His body shook as you held him back, nearly toppling over with the force of him. 

“Please don’t ever do that to me again,” He croaked, voice hoarse from calling out your name as hours had ticked by without answer. Your lungs constricted with guilt as Edmund pulled you impossibly tighter, heart nearly bursting from his chest and limbs tense with panic. 

“Edmund I-” You began but he pulled back, interrupting you with a toe curling kiss. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” Edmund sighed, forehead pressed fervently against yours. “Can we please go home and talk? Or not talk? I just want you home, I’ll do anything,” His voice cracked and your heart broke.

“I thought you’d like to have me gone...” You admitted as your bottom lip began to quiver. 

“Never, never in a million years,” Edmund promised as your eyes grew misty. 

“As much as I love that you’ve gotten over your little spat, Y/N, I don’t really like having the whole king’s army outside my front door,” Your friend laughed, pointing to the few soldiers who had gathered out front, neighbors peaking their heads out of their doors in curiosity. 

You laughed, head falling to Edmund’s chest. “Of course, we’ll get out of your hair,” Your promised as you wished your friend goodnight. 

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have left,” You sighed against Edmund’s back as you two made your way back home, the soldiers taking your horse ahead for you as you wanted to ride back with your husband and have a talk. 

“I shouldn’t have made you feel like you couldn’t leave.. I don’t want to trap you, I just want to keep you safe,” Edmund admitted, slowing his horse to a steady trot as you trailed light kisses from the nape of his neck to between his shoulder blades. 

“I love that you care so much, but the world isn’t as scary as it used to be,” You promised, rubbing his chest to remind him to take a deep breath. Edmund relaxed immediately under your touch. 

You fell into a comfortable silence, eyelids heavy as Edmund helped you down from his horse, leading you to your room. Helping each other from your clothes, you fell into bed with a content sigh, tangling your legs with Edmund’s. 

“I love you Ed,” You mumbled, kissing his chest as you tucked your head underneath his chin. 

“I love you too,” Edmund spoke but you heard the pause. “A-and next time, you can come with me,” 

You were too tired to do much but smile. 

Edmund and you held each other a bit tighter that night but when you woke in the morning, you both felt better than you had in quite some time. 

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

11. The Lovecats a.k.a an irresistible offer, a guy in proper clothes and a dangerous ginger

In the previous chapters: Effie gives a few pictures taken by her to Krisha who promises to show them to Kelly Curtis but Effie rushes away in the middle of the conversation to avert a date crisis between Judy and Jeff . After Mike’s awkward one-night-stand and the embarrassing intermezzo between Judy and Stone in the shower (that might have been seen by someone else too), the bunch is gathering at breakfast time in a bistro near the motel. Their exchange gets interrupted by Eric who has bad news for them.

 „Guys, we have a problem.”

Ugh… if I was a road manager and the band I’m managing had a show tonight and the lead singer had lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling, maybe I’d call it a problem. But I’m a lead singer of a band that is supposed to play a show tonight who lost his voice due to his uncontrolled yelling so I just call it an as fucked-up dumpster fire as possible.

I can barely understand the reactions since everyone in the bunch is desperately shouting at us.

“Has Karrie disappeared?”

“Did Suns defeat Sonics? I knew it!”

“Is the Twelfth Amendment coming into effect again?”

“We’re out of weed?”

Yeah, preferences.

“Hey, everyone, calm the fuck down!” Eric tries to talk them down. “It’s about the show tonight. We… we probably have to cancel it.”

“What? Why? No way!” the cacophony goes on and it only stops when Eric shuts them up with a loud whistle using his fingers.

“Should I explain calm or fuck or down?” he asks annoyed. “The thing is… Ed has lost his voice. He’s not even able to speak.”

“But… how?” Stone stares at us with clueless face. Such a smart guy and such a stupid question.

“He obviously forgot it in a public restroom and by the time he went back, it was already gone. Jesus.” Judy rolls her eyes playing with her fork. Thanks Judy, that’s what I was thinking about, now that you’ve translated it into Sarcasm, Stone might understand too.

“Actually, he accidentally flushed it down the toilet. In case you need to know the exact details to process it, Stoney.” Beth supports her with an audacious grin.

“No problem, we send Jeff down in the canal, I’m sure he’ll find it.”

“I’m able to deal with any shit except yours, Stone.” Jeff retorts, getting a snort from Judy as a reward.

“If I was you, I wouldn’t be so proud of that…”

“Seriously, what happened?” Mike cuts the forming exchange off.

“He was complaining about having a sore throat already yesterday evening too… he was working on a few lyrics but he felt tired and fell asleep relatively early and by this morning… nothing, he can only whisper, I’m afraid…”

“NO!!!” Judy interrupts her and blushes in a second since suddenly, all eyes are fixed on her. “I mean he mustn’t whisper, that’s the worst he can do.”

He? Hey, I lost my voice, not my hearing or my mind.

“It kills vocal cords, which can even lead to neck pains, I’m speaking from experience.”

“Really?” Eric frowns in disbelief.

“He has probably laryngitis. I mean, I’m not sure, he should see an otorhinolaryngologist for an exact diagnose but it’s very likely. It’s mostly viral or bacterial but extreme overburdening doesn’t help either… and extreme overburdening is a pretty euphemistic description for what you’re doing every night, sorry Ed but someone has to finally say it.” she addresses me but my only answer is a helpless shrug. I’m sure I do something wrong but I was procrastinating to face my limits until now and… here’s the result.

“And now she’s already a doctor too. And she completed the medical program in one single night, remarkable.”

“Shut up Stone.” Eric interjects not taking his eyes off of Judy.

“And how long is the regeneration period?” Beth asks, digging her face into my shoulder, which makes me reach for her neck instinctively. She rubs her cheek against my back like a lazy cat as she’s enjoying the improvised massage.

“Well, he shouldn’t speak for a few days but singing is another case, maybe one month…” My hand stops.

“What?” Beth screams right into my ear as her head perks up. Okay, so much for my hearing.

“It depends but usually after a laryngitis, you win back your singing voice note by note, beginning from the nether region.”

“Whoa, Camden, you’re getting naughtier and naughtier…”

“Spirits sometimes help…”

“That’s what I’m telling you all the time!” Mike hits the table with his fist.

“… but it’s only symptomatic treatment, if it’s bacterial, antibiotics are the ultimate solution. And… although I definitely do not support anything that kills throat but I know that singers often get a Calcium shot if they have to perform when having voice problems. So... that would maybe help shorten the silence phase.” Judy explains unwillingly.

“So… let’s summarize what you’re suggesting: we bring Ed to an expert, convince the doctor to give him a Calcium shot and swear he won’t sing for a month… and we cancel the show tonight… and then... we’ll see?” Eric looks at Judy for reassurance.

“Kind of… but I have serious doubts if he can let any note out this week. But are you sure the show must be canceled? I mean, what if someone else sang? Stone? You like singing, don’t you?”

Judy, you have a huge luck that I’m not able to ask publicly why you know about that.

“Jesus, no, I’m not a singer.”

“Aren’t you?” she provokes him raising one eyebrow.

“Nah. Plus, I can’t sing while I’m playing the guitar, I’ve already tried it but every time I try sing, I fuck the riffs up.”

“And he cusses every time he talks. He’d be lynched by the crowd in like ten seconds.” Jeff adds. “Anyway, I’m the other one who sings the backup vocals, maybe I…”

“NO WAY!” everybody protests in unison.

“Okay, okay, it was just an idea…”

“A very bad idea. We would end up playing odes about Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, geez…”

Actually, why would it be that bad? He’s like a childhood hero to me. Plus, Stone wouldn’t be a better choice either, our crowd isn’t prepared for a rock cover of The Lumberjack Song.

“No, we have no other choice.”

“Maybe…”

“I SAID NO WHISPERING!” Judy nips my attempt to join the conversation in the bud. I reach in the chest pocket of my shirt because I think this is the right moment to use my latest invention. Beth immediately gets it and jumps in the middle.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, I’m Beth Liebling, your favorite hostess and when I say favorite, I mean it.” she emphasizes the ongoing pun about the meaning of her last name with exaggerated winks. “Many of us have certainly experienced sore throat when swallowing or coughing is extremely painful and speaking seems to be impossible. The lack of communication makes us feel isolated and if we’re surrounded with sarcastic people, unsolved conflicts may result in anger issues.”

“I’m not angry at all, everything’s fine.” Stone smirks.

“But as always, we offer you a solution to tackle these difficulties and to present this incredible product, I ask my handsome partner, Edward for some help.” she pulls me next to herself by the sleeve of my shirt. I put on my dumbest smile and wait for the cue.

“Interaction cards!” she announces with pretended enthusiasm and glances at me. I lift the deck in my hand to eye level and show it around, still with the tooth-flashing fake smile.

“They make possible to maintain basic communication with the simplest messages.”

I present the first two cards with the words “yes” and “no”.

“Give me the “no”, I’ll buy it.” Stone grabs for it. I should have known.

“They also make us capable of expressing our current feelings.”

I spread out the next cards saying “shit”, “damn”, “fuck” and “I love you”.

“Aww. Give me that one!” Mike reaches out for the latter.

“Some of them declare basic axioms…” I wave with the “Pete Townshend is god” card. “No one? No problem, we’ve still got great stuff for our customers: the combined interaction cards!”

I flip through the deck and pick the “Fuck you Bush/republicans/Nazis/racists/homophobic assholes!” card.

“That’s cute, so heartfelt!” Eric presses his hand against his chest and takes it from me with the other one. I keep searching and giggle in advance when I finally pick the “Fuck you Stone!” card.

“Mine!” Judy and Jeff both almost fall out of the booth and then exchange a grin. Although Jeff was the faster, he places the card onto his palm and kneels down in front of her.

“In token of my appreciation, milady…” he offers it to the girl. To my biggest surprise, her first embarrassment evaporates quickly and she plays along.

“I’m always going to wear it over my heart.” she puts it into the chest pocket of her dungaree dress.

“How cheesy.” Stone comments dropping a piece of Emmentaler from his cheese plate into his mouth.

I nudge Beth to show her the card I made for her when she wasn’t looking. When she reads the “I love you, Beth” text on it, she slowly steps to me, laces her arms around my neck and pulls me into a relaxing, soft kiss. I capture her in a bear hug, letting her bury her head into my chest so that I can kiss the top of it and feel the familiar smell of the shampoo she’s used since I met her…

“Booo, the hostess is fucking the stage prop, disgusting…”

“Look, she’s licking the germs out of his mouth, ew…”

I try to ignore the childish remarks of Mike and Stone, luckily, Eric steers the conversation back to more professional questions.

“I guess I have to make a few phone calls, starting with the club, the guys who bought the ticket should receive refund… and I try to get a doctor for Ed, maybe we should try it in Charlotte, I don’t think we could find a specialist here…” he starts thinking loud, getting lost in the current, messy “to do” list he’s keeping in his pocket.

“„Sssooo… since the show has been canceled, I guess we have tons of time for the guitar lesson you asked for.” Jeff changes the topic with a huge grin, without the slightest intention of hiding his joy. And with the definite intention of using every occasion to spend more time alone with her.

“Guitar lesson? From Jeff?” Stone scoffs. “You know he didn’t become a bassist by chance, don’t you?”

“I must admit Stone’s right. There’s a particular reason for it… This bony asshole can’t hold a bass. We tried it, I swear but he ended up with his face in the concrete. If you take a closer look, you can notice that his Les Paul is only a cardboard replica too. He just pretends to play it, actually, it is Scully who plays his parts behind the amps.”

Judy bursts out in a heartfelt laughter, finally, Jeff has figured out that the way to her heart leads through well-played jokes. Possibly at Stone’s expense.

“I guess we could hang out together even tonight…” Jeff recommends with a cautious squint. That’s it, strike the iron while it’s hot…

“Tonight? But what about the show???”

“What show, Stone? We’ve just decided to cancel it…”

“But the supporting act is Tribe After Tribe! You love them, you’ve wanted to see them playing live since Tom Petty gave you their record! I definitely go and watch them!” Stone pouts like a child whose parents are about to call off the family visit to Disneyland.

“Shit… I mean, that’s true, they’re amazing… maybe you could come too…?”

“Nah, I don’t think so, I could finally sleep through the whole night… but we don’t have to do the soundcheck today, we could have the first lesson instead.”

“Hey Camden, you have a lot to learn, no one said you can skip today’s work!”

“I start with turning your volume down…” Judy retorts and turns immediately back to Jeff. “So, what do you say?”

“Sure… I mean, maybe you end up teaching me. But sooner or later, I have to figure out what I’m doing so…”

They both stand up, and as they are walking towards the exit, they keep talking, leaving the sour-faced Stone behind. I can only guess the reason of the change in her behavior… Jeff Ament, you’d better not mess up your chance.

***

„Granny, stop turning your head all the time! I can also hear you when you’re looking straight ahead. Otherwise I mess up your hair!”

“Effie darling, I’m an old woman, I don’t want to be pretty, I just want shorter hair so that I can comb it easier after hair wash.” she answers, of course she can’t help moving her head this time either.

“Granny! What did I just say? Okay, I accept that you don’t care about your look but I don’t lend my name to anything. Plus, if you keep squirming, I might even cut you. Or myself. Geez, I don’t know what happened to your hair after it had turned grey, it’s like barbed wire, maybe I should try it with a machete…” I mutter as I try to straighten her strands with a comb before I start cutting.

“I’ve told you, you can do anything with it, my body is a rusty, old machine, I can’t lean forward in the bath tub or brush it for hours. You could even shave it, I don’t care.”

“Do you really want to enjoy the Seattle rain on your bald scalp? I doubt it. Did you know that dripping ice cold water on the shaved head of prisoners was a popular way of torment in the Middle Ages? And I don’t think Mr. Taylor would like it either.” I refer to her old neighbor with a sly smile.

“Come on, Effie. Peter and I are both basically fossils.” she waves with an embarrassed, short laughter. We’ve been teasing her with him for years but she always reacts with denial, she belongs to the generation of which members think attraction over a certain age is something inappropriate. Or can’t even exist. And if it still does, it’s better to pretend it doesn’t.

“Single fossils!” I point out.

“I know it’s a very fashionable word nowadays but we are both widows, my dear. That’s completely different.” she insists playing with her wedding ring that embraces her ring finger still perfectly. I could stare at her hands for hours, her elegant fingers with strong, even, oval nails, whereas the backs of her hands and her palms are soft and always warm, Mom is convinced that’s the reason why she can prepare the most delicious homemade pastries in the world. The thin, fine, spiderweb-like wrinkles on them are telling the story of a complicated life, every single day adds a newer chapter to it…

“That doesn’t mean you have to live like a recluse, I don’t know why you’re fighting even against the idea.”

“We’ve just put dear Clara in the grave and…”

“Granny, Mrs. Taylor died like… eight years ago???” I whine clipping together a few strands of her.

“To me, it feels like it had happened yesterday.”

“Because with aging, the perception of time is changing completely. It’s scientifically proven. Mr. Taylor is handsome and kind and however much you try to ignore it, he likes you.”

“Sweetie, the head of girls in your age is full of romantic imaginations but…”

“Don’t even try to project it back on me! He trims the hedge in your front yard and peeps from behind the curtain all the time, just to show up by chance whenever you step out of the house! He basically tears the shopping bags out of your hands every time you arrive home from the grocery store!” I confront her with the facts and begin to trim her hair in the meantime.

“Because he’s a gentleman! Our generation was taught how to be polite!” she explains intensely making me grab her head with both hands and turn it back in the right direction.

“Are you trying to say my generation is rude? Anyway, Mr. Taylor is a retired TV mechanic! He could repair that piece of shit old box you’re not willing to replace whenever it gets fucked up.” I play my ultimate argument knowing she has a soft spot for her favorite series. She was mourning after the last episode of Dallas for weeks.

“Effie, you know I don’t like dirty words! Please!”

“Sorry. He could repair that useless device you’re not willing to replace every time it gets fucked up.” I giggle.

“Effie!”

“Granny, just think into it: you shouldn’t make us record the missed episodes and come over if you want to watch them… you don’t like video cassettes anyway and you said you could never learn how to work a video player…” I purr into her ears trying to sound hypnotical.

“It’s rather you who should have a suitor! You’re such a pretty, young, smart girl, I can’t believe you don’t have a boyfriend.”

Oh no. She turned the tables on me. Clever.

“First of all, being single is not a shame, I won’t expire if I don’t get married before I turn 25. I’m just… not interested in anyone right now.”

And by the way, if you’re not studying, not working, and your so-called friends have forgotten about your existence for the reasons above and gave up inviting you at parties and social events, you don’t even have any possible love interest around. Not that I blame them, my high school classmates are scattered everywhere in the country and after I suspended my studies, I kind of slowly drifted away from the college buddies. We hung out a few times after it but I lost track of everything, I understood fewer and fewer inside jokes, I’m not allowed to drink alcohol, which was obviously no fun to them… damn, I can’t even get rid of my waste products without outside help. So at this point, it’s not that easy to meet guys at all. Let alone normal guys who aren’t slackers, heroin addicts and don’t have commitment issues. I mean, bad guys seem to be exciting until you have one. And I’ve had a few one, I always buy their stupid shit and I’m sick of them. Victor is my only friend who still cares and lets me know about must-see shows at RCKNDY but he’s a friend, we’ve never thought about each other with any hint of romantic feelings at that’s okay. To be honest, I don’t even want to be in a relationship only for the sake of it but I miss that little tingle in the chest and the stomach, at least a teeny-tiny, innocent crush wouldn’t hurt…

“I’m sure you have admirers, just no one meets your expectations, maybe you set the bar too high… Ouch!” she lets out a short scream since I manage to pull her hair involuntarily. The “picky girl” card again… this time, I’m not willing to begin a debate with her about that, I’ve done that several times and she just waved me off every single time.

“I think we should rather discuss Judy’s love life, it’s her who‘s surrounded by handsome boys right now.” I change the subject of the conversation, I know I’m mean and if Judy was here, she’d certainly kill me… but she’s not and the end justifies the means.

“I still can’t imagine her in the company of those men.”

Those men. Granny refuses to call the band members anything else. Okay, on sunny days, she refers to them as “those young men”… but Seattle isn’t famous for the frequency of sunny days, as we know.

“They are nice guys, she likes them. And as far as I know, they like her too…” I rather resist the urge to mention Stone’s aversion to her. “Moreover, I heard through the grapevine that one of them liked her more than the others…”

“A suitor? Sweetie, please bring my bag here, now that you’re mentioning that, I want to ask you something.”

I obey, and walk to the armchair to grab it. Like it was so easy.

“Jesus, Granny, are you keeping bricks in your handbag??? It’s a lethal weapon, if you beat someone in the head with it, you can be put in jail…” I shake my head as I put it on her lap.

“Come on, it’s not that heavy. There are a few things in it a woman can need anytime… “ she starts rummaging in the bag and as I peak into it, I can spot a Swiss Army penknife and a small bottle of tear gas spray. I rather don't ask anything. “I know you’ve shown me pictures of those men, magazine articles, posters but you know I forget everything… So I bought something up-to-date so that you can tell me what I have to know about them, especially if it concerns my granddaughter…” she pulls something colorful out of the mess.

“Steel Hammer magazine? Haha, I can’t believe it! You just went to a kiosk and asked for the latest issue of a metal magazine???” I laugh walking back behind her to pick up the threads again.

“Well… I couldn’t remember the band’s name, I just told to the salesman that my grandchild was working with one of the famous rock bands from our town and I wanted to learn more about them. He just laughed and told me this issue was full of Seattle rock bands and I could certainly find in it what I was looking for.” she flips through the pages. “So tell me again the names of those men, please.” she lifts the magazine and I giggle as I look over her head at it.

“Oh, that’s Alice in Chains, they are also popular but… I don’t think you would approve if Judy worked for them.”

“Why? They do drugs, right? I don’t even want to hear more about that.” Thank God. I don’t think I could tell her much about them without causing her a heart attack. “But they must be them!” she puts a picture in front my nose again.

“You’re getting warmer… but… still not hot. That’s Soundgarden, they are good friends with the guys, they’re even meeting them in a few weeks in Texas, I guess they’re playing a couple of shows together. But they are nice guys too, you don’t have to worry. No drugs, no sex. I mean no sex with strangers. Or other bands’ crew members.” I add before she’d make me run background checks and look into their police records.

“And these men?”

“Whoohoo, you’re hot! That’s them, Pearl Jam!”

“They have nice hair! Actually, all these musicians do. And their eyes are clear, I like that. They seem to be honest young men.” Young men. Maybe if I tell enough nice things about them, she’ll even call them “boys”, or even “guys”. ”Who is who?”

“Eddie, Jeff, Stone, Dave and Mike.” I list pointing at each name on its owner.

“And which of them is courting our Judy?” she inquires excitedly.

“I wouldn’t call it courting yet, all I know he’s already asked her out once but I’m still investigating the details, you know how secretive she can be. Anyway, it’s the bassist, Jeff. The second one from left.” I glance over her head again while I collect another strand with the comb and straighten it to see its length.

“He’s very athletic, he looks healthy, that’s good. A strong man. But those earrings and bracelets… does he always wear them?”

I can hear the frown in her voice.

“I guess so. But that doesn’t make him a bad person, body piercings are very fashionable nowadays. Anyway, he’s a Montanan guy, he’s also an artist, he paints I guess. And you see right, he’s a talented athlete, he plays basketball too and he’s an avid skateboarder. It’s not dangerous!” I add quickly since I’m not sure if skateboarding is old enough to be on Granny’s list of approved spare times activities

“His clothing style is weird, though. His chest is almost bare, he couldn’t be cold but then why was he wearing that hat?”

“Hehe, no one knows, he’s just into hats, that’s his trademark.” I shrug.

“I can’t believe Judy likes him. But that serious one with those sad eyes might be her type.”

“Who?” I wrinkle my forehead since I can’t really pair the description with any of them.

“Him. He dresses normally, that’s a nice shirt, no earrings or other weird jewelry. Does he have a tattoo?”

I glance back at the magazine only to see she’s pointing at Stone.

“Hahaha, oh my gosh, no, as far as I know he doesn’t, but if you ask me, he could even be as spotted as a panther, Judy can’t stand him.”

“But he seems to be a nice boy…”

BOY??? Stone?

“Okay, I admit, he looks good and the crew likes him and he’s super talented but he’s an asshole to Judy.”

“Effie!”

“He is! At first he ignored her and then he started acting like a douchebag and…”

“Effie, dear, you know how boys behave in school… they sometimes literally torture the girl they like… maybe he is just immature.”

“No, Granny, this is…”

Luckily, the stupid debate gets interrupted by the ringing of the phone and I jog to pick it up, maybe it’s Judy…

“Hello, Camdens…”

“Hey, Krisha’s here.”

“Oh… hi…”

“So you haven’t been abducted by aliens. You basically ran away from the office last time without any explanation and I’ve been waiting for your call since then… are you okay?”

“I am… I just… didn’t want to seem too desperate or impatient… I mean, managers are busy people, I thought it’d take some time until Kelly gets to watch my pictures…”

To be honest, I was convinced they’d ditch me with some polite lie like “Nice photos but we are looking for something else” or “We are going to call you later”… so I was just procrastinating facing the truth.

“I tied him to his chair and didn’t set him free, I have my methods… which means, I’ve got news for you.” she announces secretively.

“Effie, sweetie… my hair is still wet, would you give me a towel?”

“Just a second, Granny! Look, I’m busy now but could we meet later somewhere in the city?”

“You mean today?”

“Yes… ah, shit, I have an appointment at the hairdresser’s, but maybe after it…”

“I’m flexible, just tell me the place and the date…”

“Okay, it’s…”

***

When I pull down at the address she gave me on the phone, she’s already waiting for me in front of the building. As I lean over the passenger seat to open the door for her, my eyes are involuntarily drawn to the window decorated with kitschy hearts behind her.

“Love Is In The Hair? Seriously???” I frown. “I’d never let my hair be touched by anyone who’s able to make up such a terrible pun.”

“Oh, don’t be influenced by that, the owner is a hopeless, sentimental old woman but the girls working there are real pros!” she shakes her head as she gets in and buckles herself up. “Meg’s got golden hands, she’s the only one who can keep this haystack under control.” she points at her good smelling, fluffy, blonde strands. “I mean, several people have attempted but she’s the only one who’s succeeded without turning me into Dolly Parton.”

“Well, that’s definitely wouldn’t be a fortunate outcome.” I crack up. “But you got a nice perm, truly.”

“Oh, that’s my hair in its natural state. I had only a haircut, that’s all.”

“I can’t believe that! Aw, I’m so envious, I mean look at this mouse tail…” I flick my thin ponytail with one hand, keeping the other one on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, my hair can’t recover from what I did to it in the ‘80s…”

“Ouch, well, those were tough times... I’m sure Meg could recommend something… you should give her a try!”

“Maybe… I don’t know, somehow I have a strong aversion to beauty salons, that chicken yard vibe freaks me out.”

“Me too! But this place is not like that at all, that’s the other reason why I became their regular client. Meg studied psychology, she always feels without asking if I want to talk or just listen to her or I just want both of us to… you know, just shut up. She usually has good advice for every situation but not in a pushy way… she rather makes you realize what’s the right thing to do… or just points out if you’re about to make a terrible mistake without explicitly saying it.” she chuckles. “I don’t know, it’s like a sixth sense thing, she’s gifted.”

“So she’s a beauty wizard and a guru in one person.” I summarize.

“Haha, exactly. She’s simply a cool chick but for some reason, she has such a bad luck with guys, I don’t know the exact details, only that a problematic guitarist broke her heart.”

“Ha, that invasive species has kinda conquered this town…” I mutter knowingly.

“Speaking of that, do you know anything about Judy and Jeff? I ran away last time since I felt a disaster coming… she wasn’t even aware she’d been asked out… and since then, we’ve barely talked and she ignored the question when I came up with that…”

“Ugh, to be honest, I don’t know, I talked to Eric about work stuff, we’re busily preparing that free open-air show in May…” I stop since I’m not sure if I should go on. “Of course I talked to Stone as well…” I finally decide to do so but I pretend to be distracted by the traffic in the junction to have an excuse for not finishing the sentence.

“I bet he trashed my sister again, didn’t he?” she unfortunately jumps on the topic without hesitation.

“No… not really… I mean, he’s disapproving about anything romantic between them for sure but not because of Judy as a person… he just doesn’t think it’s a healthy thing right now. But he was obscure, I didn’t even understand what he was trying to say, he was babbling something about deflowering and cabal… he’s showing off his vocabulary all the time, even if it makes no sense. Especially when he’s high, maybe that was the case.”

“Deflowering? You mean my sister?” she scoffs and I can’t do anything but shrug since Stoney was truly vague, almost secretive. “The dude’s got obviously a screw loose.” she underlines the statement by circling with her index finger at the temple. “Anyway, why are you turning in that direction, aren’t we going to the management office?”

“I never claimed we’re going there.” I watch the road with a mysterious smile. “Actually, I realized after having called you that I had an errand to run so I thought you could accompany me…”

“By accompanying you mean kidnapping me and holding me hostage in your car?”

“Maybe. Open the glove compartment, I put there something for you.”

“Now you’re scaring me, is it a gun? Whoa.” she startles since after she obeys me, tons of tapes fall onto her lap.

“Ah, I get it. You’re holding me hostage and make me listen to shitty music, what are these? Tapes of Wham! tribute bands or what?” she asks checking the cases.

“Okay, you just gave me a great idea. The tapes weren’t intended for you, they are demos of bands monkeying PJ, we receive a buttload of them every week. Needless to say they all suck, could you do me a favor by listening to them for me? Kelly insists on me checking all of them, I don’t know why, though, we usually send them a polite refusal… but he thinks they deserve a chance. 99 % percent of them are indistinct yelling to worn-out riffs. What about my constitutional rights?”

“Haha, are you serious? I mean, I don’t really have any proper excuse, I have plenty of time and unfortunately, fucked-up kidneys don’t clog ears but…”

“Just kidding, I meant the folded sheets, maybe they are buried deep, just dig for them.”

“Okay, got it” she groans basically putting her head in the glovebox. “What’s that? Mr. Hugh Mility… Mr. Juan Badapple… Jim Rockford... Dr. Hugh Jeego… Guy Jantic… what the hell is this?”

“Well, since the guys are getting huge, fans are lurking at the hotels, they make up impossible lies to get their room numbers, a few of them even tried to bribe the receptionists… so it became obvious they should use codenames…”

“And who is who?”

“You missed the point, should I maybe explain the concept of codenames? What if you start stalking or harassing them?” I tease her and maybe I’m hallucinating but I’d swear I see an amused smile forming in the corner of her mouth. “Anyway, joke aside, they are pretty obvious, just think a little.”

“Wait, the list goes on… these must be the crew members… Elle Koholic, okay, this must be Carrie. Oh my god, I found my sister’s one.” she slaps herself in the forehead.

“Yeah, no offense but she’s got a one-track mind… anyway, we’ve arrived.” I announce steering the car right to the empty site next to the building.

“Are you willing to finally reveal where we are?” she asks stuffing the tapes back into their place.

“Curiosity killed the cat. Okay, I hope not, Stone would kill me.” I laugh at my own joke, fishing out the shopping bag from the backseat. “Come.”

“I don’t understand a word.” she pouts indignantly while we’re entering the building and climbing the stairs in the semi-darkness.

“I enlighten you very soon, I promise, just follow me.” I turn back to her and we fell silent until we reach our destination. “Here.” I point theatrically at the door.

“What’s this? Are you gonna buy drugs here? Or is this sort of a den of gamblers? Or…”

“Jesus, I thought you’re the adventurous one…” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, you mentioned the species of problematic guitarists… where we’re standing is the cave of a specimen from one of the subspecies.”

“…which iiiis…”

“One of the most complex inhabitant of Earth’s fauna: the rhythm guitarist!” I raise my index finger. “It’s very widespread at bars and concert venues, the male ones are inseparable from their favorite delicacy that is beer. The male living here is famous for his trademark, sarcastic remarks that are not without jokes about nether regions. During his mating season – that includes every single day of the year –, he tries to catch the attention of female specimens with the excessive flipping of his magnificent mane and his repetitive, distinctive laughter. He often leaves the location of mating right after the act, his volatile nature…”

“Wait, are you trying to say…” she cuts me off, getting tired of my improvised presentation.

“Yess.”

“No shit!”

“Yes shit. We’re at Stone’s apartment. Okay, it actually belongs to his sister but she moved in with her boyfriend last year. And Stoney got a gentle reminder from his parents that he should finally leave the family nest.”

“Hey, then maybe me and Judy are super uncool since we live with our mom too…” she frowns offended.

“It’s all about the context, first of all: he turned down Chris Cornell when he asked him to be his roommate. I repeat, Chris Cornell.” I explain, as I begin to fumble with the keys.

“What a fool!”

“I mean, I kind of understand him to a point, his parents are the dearest people I know but turning down such an offer when you’re over 20? Time went by and I think his parents just got fed of him tearing the strings at their attic all the time and coming home in the middle of the night every single day. Even if they have always been totally supportive of him, they didn’t freak out even when he announced he didn’t want to go to college… he started working as an espresso guy in a small bakery at Pioneer Square, he was the worst, by the way, I mean I almost puked of the coffee he made… He quitted that job when Mother Love Bone got signed to PolyGram and… you know what happened later. So he kind of stuck at home, indebted.”

We enter the apartment in the meantime and I take a few steps in the living room to turn on the standard lamp.

“But then, not much before the tour started, his sister let him her place over, he’s a low-key guy so…” I shrug. “Now that they became basically rock stars, he’s planning to buy a small house… his dad is an attorney-at-law with acquaintances at real estate firms, that helps a lot.”

“We had to sold our house when… a few years ago.” she sighs. I don’t ask, I guess it has to do something with her father, Karrie mentioned he’d died a few years ago. “This is a pretty nice place, I thought it was messier. No piles of beer cans, no smell of rotten food…” she remarks walking around the living room.

“Despite your impressions, he’s not a caveman, he always jokes referring to himself as an emancipated guy meaning he can and is willing to do all kind of housework. He can be pretty oblivious, though, which sometimes affects the result…” I giggle and open the windows to let in some fresh air. “His brain works in a weird way, he loses everything, all the time and forgets where he put his personal belongings and therefore never finds them again… whereas he’s pretty good at remembering riffs and melodies.”

“So this place is like a black hole. Anyway, why are we here? Wait, are we going to pull pranks on him? Let’s stick pins in the armchairs, smear tooth paste on the door handles and hide dog poop under the doormat…” she suggests with stars in her eyes. Okay, I have to do something against this hatred campaign before these wicked women cast a lethal spell on him.

“As I mentioned, I have a mission. First of all, I have to keep those poor things alive…” I point in the corner.

“Wow, a private jungle!” she exclaims surprised. “Philodendron, ficus and mother-in-law’s tongue! If someone had told me Stone liked indoor plants, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Actually, he sometimes forgets about their existence too. But they are real survivors, they even made it despite his girlfriend’s interesting watering methods… by the way, he even gave them names: Phil Collins, Biggus Diccus and Robert Plant, I guess I don’t have to explain…” I go on with the guided tour while I go in the kitchen to fill the coffee jug with water.

“At least the guy has a good taste in music.” she shouts. She must have found his record collection and the stereo system, I guess if something, this can soften Effie up.

“Yes, he’s surprisingly omnivorous as for musical genres…” I call back although my voice sounds muffled, since I had to basically crawl into the cupboard at the bottom for the bag of the pet food. “He’s pretty much influenced by everything he hears on the radio. Ouch!!!” I manage to bang my head when I straighten up too early.

“Are you okay?”

“I am… just a household accident…”

I walk back to the bedroom with the small bowl full of dry food only to find her staring amazed at the large star chart on the wall.

“Wow. My sister would love this.” she keeps examining it with dropped jaw, only her lips are moving.

“Well, I’ve always known they have much more in common than they think.” I grin.

“Judy had a pretty long phase when she wanted to be an astronomer… I mean, basically her in her whole childhood. She later found out physics and science weren’t really her thing but she’s still obsessed with space exploration and science fictions…”

“As you can see, Stone isn’t that beer-drinking, douchebag barfly type…” I spread my arms to point out that the walls are almost covered with bookshelves.

“Yeah, as far as I can see, he’s pretty much an intellectual asshole.” she narrows her eyes.

“AND NOW… let’s jump to the second part of my mission.” I kneel down and lift the bedspread. “Your Majesty, your subjects are only waiting for you to begin the audience.” After a few seconds of silence, two reddish paws reach out from under the bed, soon followed by a pink nose. Their owner makes sure there’s nothing dangerous in the room in full alert mode, before she crawls out slowly and rubs her snout against my hand reached out.

“Oh my god! A cat! Was she here during the whole time?” Effie screams surprised, sits down cross legged and invites her to herself making smacking sounds. “Hey sweetie… you’re very shy, aren’t you? Come here…come…”

“Effie, let me introduce you Red. Red, this is Effie. Be cautious… she can behave quite wild, especially with women…”

Despite my fears, she slowly moves towards Effie and sniffs her fingertips. After a few seconds of tense hesitation, she lets herself be caressed with that typical vigilance of cats like she was sending the message “I’m here but if you make a wrong move, you die”.

“What a beautiful fur… and those green eyes…” the girl runs her finger along the red-white spotted back. “She seems to like me…” the girl chuckles.

“One more proof that Stone’s theory was right.”

“What kind of theory?”

“Well… he adopted her not much after the forming of the band… she was just a tiny, fluffy kitten but from the very first moment, she’s acted very weird with the girls around Stone. And I don’t mean girls in general, I’m talking about his female visitors, if you know what I mean… she’s been very hostile to girls he’s dated, she’s basically driven away all the chicks he’s got hooked up with… She’s literally jealous of his love interests.”

“Interesting, I’d rather think Stone is a dog person…”

“He is, his family has always had dogs… but with Red… it was love at first sight. I’ve never seen him being as affectionate to actual girls as to Red. Even his voice softens when he’s talking to or about her… so long story short, Stone was joking that they must have been lovers in a previous life and she had been some red-haired girl who’d stolen his heart.”

“And does she like girls who hate him because they mean no competition for her?” Effie wonders as she follows the cat with her eyes who’s now approaching her bowl and gets lost in the deliciously looking pieces of meat. “It’d be an interesting experiment to introduce her to Judy.”

“Definitely, she’s never met a real female enemy of him. Maybe because girls usually like him…” I shrug.

“And is this poor thing the whole day alone?”

“Ugh, it’s a complicated story. When the guys started touring, the Gossards adopted her. Again. But they have to get rid of her, because they all are allergic to cat fur, it wasn’t that disturbing when Stone was at home too and she basically lived in the attic with him and he was the only one really taking care of her… but when he was away and they had do it for him, they quickly had to look for someone else… and then, she got to Regan, our common old friend. They got on very well with each other but then Regan and his girlfriend adopted a dog and to say they weren’t compatible is an understatement. And then…” I took a big breath “…then came the Amber phase. I don’t know if I’ve already mentioned her, she’s his girlfriend.”

“Ouch.” she hisses. “That must have been tough.”

“It was. Due to the beforementioned circumstances, their relationship was everything but smooth… she never adopted her, she just came over to feed her and all but Red was trying very hard to make her life a living hell. She attacked her, scratched her arms, hooked her nails in her tights and ruined her nicest clothes…” I list and I can’t help smiling as I recall their clashes.

“I can’t believe this cutie pie did things like that. It sounds terrible but… hey, are you laughing???”

“It was a dis… a disaster…” I’m already choking of laughter since in the meantime, Red’s innocent face makes me remember the funniest part of the story. “Once she even… oh no, I can’t…” I try to calm down and put on straight face. “Once this little bitch…” Red turns her head towards me like she felt addressed “yes, I’m talking about you… so this little bastard peed in Amber’s heels.”

“Oh no! Cat pee is the worst, it’s a one-way ticket to the dumpster. I mean only if you don’t set everything that got in contact with it on fire.”

“Well, that happened to the heels in question too. But frankly, I don’t blame Red, I myself have played with the idea of doing the same a few times too.” I shrug and have Effie in stitches.

“So you hate her too…”

“I don’t, she’s not a bad person… but she can be so annoying, man… when you have to admire the umpteenth fashion photo of her posing in different clothes, it’s very difficult to seem to be interested.”

“Uhm… speaking of photos… you said you got news for me… I didn’t want to be too greedy, I mean I really like hanging out with you and I’m not doing it only because I want your help and…” she jabbers blushing.

“Hey, easy. The news are that Kelly loved your photos. And Susan Silver too. And they have a great idea…”

[lyraspace]

Spanglish (A Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends FanFiction)

There were times where Bloo just couldn't understand Eduardo, no matter how hard he genuinely tried.

If it wasn't a joke that translated poorly, ruining the punchline, it was the way Eduardo oftentimes used his native language to butt people out of a conversation he didn't want others listening in on. (Especially him, no fair!) And if it wasn't the millions of rules Spanish required for you to speak it properly, (What do you mean there's four words for car in Spanish?!) it was the way Eduardo belted out Selena Quintanilla lyrics in the shower EVERY morning. (And the only reason Bloo even knew who that lady was, was because Eduardo wouldn't shut up about her!)

In other words, Eduardo was better off using as little Spanish around him as possible.

The problem with that was, either Eduardo didn't get the memo, or he was too stupid to understand it.

It all started one Friday morning, and Imaginary Friends of all shapes and sized were locked in a heated completion of wit; Madame Foster's Friday Morning Breakfast Trivia.

Bloo was on a rather impressive winning streak, in spite of having Eduardo for his team partner (and only because everyone else had already formed their teams), and by the end of breakfast he was so close to victory he could taste it.

But on the last question, the very last question, Eduardo ruined everything.

The big lummox took it upon himself to shout some attempt at an answer in Spanish, and apparently that didn't count, giving some other team the opportunity to answer the question and win the competition.

And like that, victory slipped from Bloo's stubby little hands, leaving him with nothing but the very bitter taste of defeat.

As everyone leaves the dining room to do other things, Bloo stews in his fury and disbelief. Eduardo tries to touch his shoulder as a form of comfort, but he swats it away.

"Nice going, Eduardo!" Bloo shouts, "We were so close, and you just had to blow it! I've had it with you and all your Spanish! Why can't you ever speak some proper English for a change?"

"Lo siento, Azul," he says, shrinking in fear in spite of his larger size, "I know you really wanted to win."

Beyond frustrated, Bloo pinches the space between his eyes and turns away from him.

"Go. Just...just go, Ed."

Eduardo's face falls and tears well up in his eyes, but rather than starting to cry, he simply walks away.

Bloo sighs and turns to leave in the opposite direction, but he's stopped by an enormous Converse sneaker. He looks up to find both Frankie and Wilt looking down at him disapprovingly.

"Bloo, what on Earth was that back there?" Frankie asks, appalled.

"I'm sorry, but I have to agree," Wilt accuses pointedly, "that really wasn't cool."

"What did I do?" the blue blob whines, crossing his arms, "it's not MY fault we lost."

"You think we care about some stupid game of trivia?" Frankie says, "you really hurt Eduardo's feelings, Bloo."

"I don't get it, is all," Bloo argues, "with as long as he's been living here, he should be a lot better at English."

"I remember when Eduardo first moved in," Wilt recalls, defensively, "If you think he's not good at English now, he didn't know a lick of English back then."

"It was really hard to get him to come out of his shell with such a huge language barrier to boot," Frankie says, "Trust us when we say that the English he does speak now is a massive improvement. You should give Eduardo a lot of credit for that; learning a second language is a lot harder than you think."

"Alright, I guess I'll apologize," Bloo scoffs, waving an arm dismissively, "But don't catch me learning any Spanish anytime soon."

Seeing that there was no way to convince the blue blob to change his mindset, Wilt and Frankie shake their heads and go their separate ways. Bloo very quickly forgets about the conversation, as there was another, much more important thing to get ready for: a house-wide picnic at the park.

Everyone somehow manages to squeeze themselves on the bus, and soon they take off to pick up Mac from school, whom luckily enough had a half-day, so he could join in too. (And sleep over for the weekend! Bloo was so excited!)

They stop at the front of the school right as the bell rings. The doors open as a flurry of children run in multitudes of directions. Bloo opens his window near the front of the bus, leaning out to look for Mac in the crowd.

He puts a hand to his mouth and sends out a whistle that flies across the courtyard. A mop of familiar brown hair turns to face him, and he waves as Mac dashes towards the bus.

The boy and his creation crash into each other as the bus doors open and Mac flies through. They laugh and joke as the bus pulls away from the sidewalk and finally begins its journey to the park.

Mac turns in his seat to say hello to his other friends, and notices Eduardo staring out the window solemnly.

"Hey Bloo," he asks, "what's wrong with Eduardo?"

The blue blob turns in the same direction and rolls his eyes. "Don't worry about it, Mac," he says, "He's just being a big baby because I yelled at him a little."

The boy's head snaps around to face him, "Why the heck would you do that, Bloo?"

"I was THIS close," Bloo hisses, pinching two fingers agonizingly close to each other without touching, "to finally winning Madame Foster's Friday Morning Breakfast Trivia, and Eduardo just HAD to shout the final answer in Spanish. We lost, no thanks to him."

"Is that really worth being mad at him though?" Mac questions.

"YES!" Bloo exclaims, grabbing his creator by the front of his shirt, "When the winning prize is first dibs on Madame Foster's monthly batch of chocolate chip muffins!"

"That's no excuse." Mac frowns, "I want you to apologize to him."

"Mac, not you too!" Bloo whines, sagging in his seat.

"Yes, me too," Mac says, crossing his arms.

"You're like the third person to get on my case about it today," Bloo says, "What's so great about Spanish, anyway?"

"That a LOT of people speak it," Mac responds, "In fact, it's the second most spoken language in the United States. Who knows? In the future, there might be more Spanish speakers in the U.S. than English."

"Great, just what I need," Bloo groans, "MORE Spanish."

"If you took at least some time out of your day to acknowledge that the world doesn't revolve around you," Mac says,"You'll realize that Spanish isn't as bad as you think it is. You could even learn a thing or two from it."

An idea seems to pop into the boy's head.

"That reminds me!" Mac takes off his backpack to open it and dig through it's contents. He takes out a sheet of paper with lots of writing on it, the most prolific mark on it being a bright red A+. He leans over the edge of his seat to wave the paper in front of Eduardo.

"Hey Eduardo, I aced that Spanish test!" Mac says," Thanks SO much for helping me study; I would've flunked hard if it weren't for you."

Hearing that seems to cheer Eduardo up, because he starts grinning from ear to ear.

"Maravilloso!" Eduardo smiles, "I knew you could do it!"

"What'd I tell you, Mac?" Frankie calls to him from the driver's seat, "Eduardo is THE go-to guy for help in Spanish. I swear, I probably would have had to repeat the 11th grade if it weren't for him."

Seeing Eduardo smiling again is enough for Mac to sit back down in his seat.

"I still want you to apologize," Mac whispers to Bloo, stuffing his test back into his backpack, "sometime TODAY, please."

"Fine! I'm gonna!" Bloo whines, "Just quit nagging me about it."

Soon enough, the bus reaches its destination. All sorts of Imaginary Friends run off into their favored friend groups and enjoy all sorts of lawn games and delicious food. Bloo decides to spend most of that time with Mac, catching frogs and turtles by the edge of the pond and starting a massive water balloon fight, to Mr. Herriman's chagrin. Almost instantly, the morning's troubles seemed to just disappear from his mind.

The hours seem to fly by, and pretty soon it was almost time to pack up and go home.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

The blue blob hesitates from stuffing an entire slice of pie into his mouth.

"Am I? What?" he asks.

"I thought you were going to apologize to Eduardo." says Mac, drinking from a can of soda (sugar free, of course), "You can do it right now. He's right over there, see?"

Bloo turns around to find Eduardo picking flowers a ways across the field underneath a large tree, without a care in the world.

"Why do I still have to apologize?" Bloo asks, "He probably forgot all about it by now."

"Because it's the right thing to do," Mac responds, crossing his arms, "You don't even need to make a big scene out of it. Just go over there, apologize, and be done with it. Admitting you were wrong isn't the end of the - "

Mac stops. He seems to notice something going on across the field.

"Who's that man over there with Eduardo?"

Bloo turns back around to find out what Mac meant. Sure enough, some strange man was standing underneath the tree with Eduardo. The conversation seemed to be going fine at first, but it suddenly takes a turn.

The man takes an aggressive stance, and soon enough, he's practically yelling so loud that everyone around them could hear it. While Bloo was too far away to decipher what was being said, it was quite clear that it wasn't anything nice.

Eduardo's reaction is immediate. He recoils in fear and clings to the tree like his life depended on it, digging into the trunk so hard bits of bark were chipping off. The man somehow takes this as an opportunity to step even closer to the Imaginary Friend and shout at him some more.

By this point Eduardo's crying, completely terrified of the man attacking him. Even though he was more than strong enough to beat the guy into next week, it was never in his nature.

So instead, he cries loud enough for everyone to hear:

"¡Déjame en paz!"

Oh no. This was bad.

Eduardo's English was clumsy at best on a good day, but everyone at Foster's knew that all comprehension of the English language just seemed to fly out the window whenever he was extremely upset. Nobody could really figure out why, but it was as if his brain simply refused to process any English whatsoever whenever he was like this.

Seeing it on full display was an awful sight. And it only seemed to make the man verbally assaulting him even angrier.

Bloo had seen enough.

Before he even knows what he's doing, and before anyone at the picnic table can stop him, he jumps from his seat and sprints across the field, without even realizing he still had the pie in his hand.

Getting closer to the confrontation, Bloo is able to hear some of what the man was yelling at Eduardo.

"I've had it with these illegal aliens; crossing the border, stealing our jobs." the man shouts, "And then their little anchor babies create Imaginary freaks like you than can't speak any English! This country's gone to the pits because of people like you!"

Bloo reaches the tree and steps in between the man and Eduardo, preventing the stranger from getting any closer.

"Hey pal!" Bloo shouts, pointing up at the man's chest, "What part of 'leave him alone' can't you understand?"

The man looks down at him dismissively. "You're his friend?" He asks, "I doubt it if he can't speak any English."

"Yes I am," the blue blob replies, defensively, "And while he isn't the best at English, he definitely tries his best! Meanwhile the only thing you seem to be fluent in is Bigoted and Stupid!"

The man's face scrunches up into a grimace.

"Great, look at what YOU'VE caused," the man says to Eduardo, who hides behind the tree even further,"if you just spoke some English like I asked, we wouldn't of had to drag other people into this!"

"You want some English?" Bloo asks, "Here's some English for ya: BACK OFF!"

Bloo kicks the man's shin as hard as he can. The man drops to one knee in pain, holding his already bruising shin with one hand, reaching for the blue blob with the other.

"Why you little - "

Bloo throws his pie right into the man's face, the force causing him to fall over onto his side, dazed, confused and out for the count.

Breathing heavily due to the adrenaline, Bloo stands over the man for a moment or two. Remembering who he was here for, he turns around to face Eduardo.

The larger Imaginary Friend is shaking in his boots, but at least he's let go of the tree. They stare at each other for a moment, the both of them still shell-shocked from the situation that just happened.

Bloo is the first to snap out of it. He crosses the distance between them and grabs Eduardo by the wrist, tugging him along gently. Eduardo doesn't resist, but remains silent as they walk away.

"C'mon, Ed. Let's get out of here."

The bus ride home is eerily silent. Nobody says a word to each other even as they arrive home, eat dinner, and get ready for bed.

Bloo feels a pit in his stomach as he brushes his teeth that night. Ever since it happened, the events of that afternoon were repeating itself in his mind, and it only made him feel worse. Bloo really didn't get why; he had done a good thing, so why did he still feel bad about it?

Why can't you ever speak some proper English for a change?

Oh yeah. That.

"I really screwed up today, didn't I?"

Mac takes his toothbrush out of his mouth and looks at him questioningly.

"I don't think Mr. Herriman is mad at you for what happened at the picnic." he says,"Everyone saw what happened."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Bloo sighs,"This morning, I was really close to sounding a lot like that jerk at the park, and I guess I realize now why you guys were upset with me."

He looks down into the drain of the sink.

"How on earth can I make it up to Ed?"

"Giving that racist a taste of his own medicine and getting Eduardo out of there was a pretty good start," Mac replies, "But I think we both know how you can fix this."

Mac jumps down from the sink and walks out of the bathroom.

"See you in the morning."

Bloo stares at himself in the mirror for a long time, realizing what Mac was saying. He hated it when Mac was right.

Walking into his room he finds that everyone else looked like they were already in bed. Bloo sighs; maybe he had waited too long to apologize. He climbs into bed and looks up at the bent mattress that Eduardo was laying on. So many thoughts were buzzing in his mind he feels like he was never going to get any sleep unless he tries saying something. Better now than never, right?

"Hey, Eduardo?" Bloo whispers, "You still awake?"

It's silent for a long moment, and Bloo begins to think that Eduardo was already asleep, but then the mattress creaks as the weight on it shifts a little.

"Si." Eduardo says.

"Look, about this morning..." Bloo starts, but falters, trying to figure out his words.

"I...I'm..."

He sighs, frustrated. Just spit it out already!

"Lo siento."

Bloo is taken aback by his own words. Did he just apologize in Spanish? That probably meant a lot more coming from him, considering everything that's happened today.

The room once more falls into silence. Bloo starts to wonder if the words he's said were too little, too late.

Suddenly, a large shape reaches down into Bloo's bed and grabs hold of him, yanking him up...

...into a great big hug!

Bloo feels like he's being squeezed so hard that his soul is leaving his body.

"Too tight, Ed, too tight!" the blue blob chokes, frantically tapping the larger Friend's arm. Thankfully, Eduardo loosens up and Bloo gasps a large breath of air.

"Aw jeez, Eduardo," he groans, "Enough with the waterworks, you're gonna get me all wet!"

"I wanted to say gracias," Eduardo sniffs, "Thank you for getting that mean man to go away."

"I had to make it up to you somehow," Bloo says, "You probably have to deal with enough jerks like that just for speaking Spanish. The last thing you need is crap like that from your own friends. Those muffins weren't worth being mad at you like that. They go stale after like one day anyways."

"You es a bueno amigo," Eduardo laughs, "When you es not a big meanie that es."

"What can I say?" Bloo smirks, "I'm the jerk of this friend group, nobody else! So if someone bothers you like that again, tell me, alright? I'll kick 'em into next week!"

Eduardo squeezes him again a little too tight for comfort, but Bloo decided not to complain. Eduardo had been though enough for one day; it wouldn't hurt to at least let him have this.

Bloo came to realize that while he might never fully understand Eduardo at times, he knew now that sometimes, friendship didn't need a language.

Perhaps, that's what made theirs so great.

THE END

[mimosaeyes]

Runaan babysits Rayla for the first time. Everything goes much better than expected.

A Ruthari getting together fic.

Credit to the Hot Brown Morning Potion Podcast episode 5, for notes on characterisation. Especially this part. Beta-ed by @sequoiawintersnight. Also available on AO3.

“Um,” says Runaan, after the door closes behind Tiadrin and Lain.

He had braced himself for tears, tantrums — any sort of fuss, really, that a toddler can kick up. But Rayla had been serene as she bid her parents farewell for the day, only giggling a little as they ruffled her tufty hair.

Surely that bodes well. Surely.

You are one of the Silvergrove’s finest warriors, Runaan tells himself sternly. You can handle babysitting your best friends’ toddler for one afternoon.

Rayla looks up from her toy. She watches him with huge, expectant eyes.

“Um,” Runaan says again. Sitting across from her, he’s suddenly realising that he has no idea how to talk to children. Sure, he’s interacted with Rayla before. Plenty, in fact. But it was always with someone else around, whose lead he could follow.

Awkwardly, he crosses his arms over his chest, then un-crosses them again.

Rayla cocks her head at him. “Thawi?” she asks. At least, he figures it’s a question, since her voice goes up at the end of it.

It takes him another moment of staring at her blankly before he understands. “You want to know where Ethari is?” Runaan ventures.

By way of answer, she leans forward to deposit, in his hastily cupped hands, her toy — a small wooden dragon that Ethari whittled for her. Runaan smiles as he recalls how painstakingly he’d worked on it in the weeks leading up to Rayla’s birth.

Runaan would be sparring with Lain when he would wave, and Runaan would turn around to see Ethari lounging in the shade of a nearby tree, using a small knife to coax, from a block of wood, the curve of a dragon’s neck or the fine tessellation of its scales. Ethari spent ages childproofing his design — rounding off any bits that jutted out, sanding everything down to perfect, splinter-free smoothness.

That’s Ethari, though: always putting his whole heart into his craft. It’s one of the reasons Runaan, ahem, admires him so much. And shows up at his workshop with some regularity for advice on proper weapons care (as is only prudent). And trips over his own feet sometimes when he notices Ethari watching their practice sessions. Which, okay, is somewhat embarrassing. Especially when Lain elbows him, or exchanges a look with Tiadrin.

Runaan clears his throat and wiggles the toy dragon at Rayla. “Ethari is busy today,” he tells her, “but we’re in his workshop anyway, since your mum says you like it here.”

Rayla perks up at the mention of her mother, and scrambles to her feet. Runaan watches, bemused, as she runs to a low shelf and tiptoes to retrieve something from it. He lets her, because he knows Ethari wouldn’t keep anything dangerous within Rayla’s reach, not when she comes by so often.

Besides, Runaan is pretty much subconsciously attuned to anything even vaguely weapon-like. He could disarm Rayla of a hazardous object in a heartbeat.

It looks like he won’t need to, though. Rayla returns brandishing two twigs, both filed blunt at the ends. More of Ethari’s handiwork, Runaan would wager.

She leaps about in a very, very loose interpretation of the basic drills she must have seen her parents performing countless times. Her face is scrunched up in concentration, and she exclaims, “Yah!” occasionally to punctuate a motion.

At the end of the display, Rayla holds a pose and looks up at him for approval.

Runaan holds her dragon aloft and bows his head. “Well done, young warrior,” he intones gravely. He suspects she might get a kick out of that.

He suspects right. Rayla lights up, grinning at him, and the thought flashes across Runaan’s mind that Well, you’re not Favourite Toy-Making Uncle, but maybe you can be Serious But Nice Uncle.

Even as he contemplates the implications of this stray thought — is he jealous that Rayla probably likes Ethari more? is he already so wrapped around her finger? — Runaan reaches out and ever so slightly adjusts her stance. He smiles at her to take any sting out of the criticism.

Rayla smiles back cheekily, then puts on her serious face again and waves her twigs at him. She doesn’t come close to landing a hit, so when she very deliberately pokes him with one of the sticks, Runaan makes sure to flail dramatically and fall over, crying defeat.

His eyes are closed, but he can hear her chuckling to herself as she clambers over his legs and flops down on the floor next to him. She pulls lightly on his hair, and he cracks open an eye to peer at her suspiciously.

She remains fixated on his hair, though, perhaps because it’s longer than that of her parents. Runaan gives a mental shrug and resigns himself to lying there on Ethari’s workshop floor, letting a tiny child play with his hair. It’s a pleasant enough, albeit surreal, way to spend an afternoon.

Rayla seems to be attempting a braid of some kind, but her fingers are too stubby for her to manage it. After a while, Runaan props himself up on one elbow so he can see what she’s doing and give her the occasional pointer.

Instead of undoing her flubs, Rayla just moves on to another section of hair, leaving little twists and knots and frizzy locks everywhere. Runaan distantly notes that he would not put up with this from anyone else in the world. And then he continues to let it happen.

And that’s when the door to the workshop opens, and Runaan looks up to see Ethari standing in the doorway.

He freezes — which goes against every principle of his training. He’s simply so mortified at how he must look right now, in front of Ethari of all people, that it takes precedence over everything else. Rayla yells, “Thawi!” and runs over to him, and Runaan is still just frozen in place, gawking at Ethari, thoughts stuck on But he was supposed to be busy today and Oh stars, my hair looks like a moonberry bush.

To his credit, Ethari takes it all in stride. He smiles at Runaan, amused but kindly, and then goes, “Oof,” as Rayla bodily slams into his legs.

“Hello, Rayla,” Ethari says. “I see you’ve had a fun morning.”

Runaan picks himself up off the floor as Rayla nods fervently. “With Wunie!” she chirps.

Ethari makes a noncommittal noise and leans over to place his shoulder bag on a nearby stool. “Oh yes. But are you sure he wouldn’t prefer to be called Wunaan?”

Rayla tilts her head back to check with Runaan, who finds himself somewhat helplessly shaking his head.

“Wunie says no,” she reports.

“Alright then,” Ethari says mildly. There is the faintest hint of a smile playing over his lips. Runaan is momentarily entranced by it.

Ethari retrieves a jar from his bag. “How’s about some of your favourite Moonberry Surprise?”

Rayla’s squeals of joy could probably be heard from the top of the Storm Spire. Ethari sends her off to search a cubbyhole for cups, and sets about unpacking the rest of his things. From the look of it, he’s been around the village, trading for supplies and materials. Just watching his calm, systematic mannerisms sets Runaan at ease.

Which is why he takes a moment to react when Ethari indicates the jar and says conversationally, “Tiadrin sprinted out of the council meeting to give this to me. She was oddly insistent that I leave the rest of my errands be, and go back to my workshop to enjoy it.”

A creeping suspicion sidles into Runaan’s mind.

Ethari continues, nonchalant. “It would’ve been Lain, I think, but I doubt he could’ve kept a straight face.”

Runaan blinks. “What do you mean?” he asks, half-sure he knows the answer but needing to hear it from Ethari. To gauge his reaction, and to be sure this isn’t all wishful thinking on his part.

Ethari bends down to accept two cups from Rayla, who can’t hold a third one at the same time and has to go back for it.

“I mean,” he says after another moment, “that I think we’ve been set up.”

Try as he might, Runaan can’t read much from Ethari’s neutral tone and facial expression. He’s implied that he knows their friends think… well, that there’s something between them. But is it a one-sided something, or is it reciprocated? Runaan still doesn’t know, not for sure.

He formulates — not for the first time — a dozen different ways to ask. He rejects each of them in turn. Also, obviously, not for the first time. The silence stretches on until he’s saved by Rayla returning with the last cup.

Which seems to have been custom-made for her small hands, as he absently notices. Ethari really does spoil her.

He pushes away the accusatory thought: So do you.

“Up?” Rayla asks Ethari hopefully, and he sits down on one of the stools so he can hoist her up onto his lap. For a moment, Runaan doesn’t so much envy his easy way with her, as wish he got to observe it more often.

Among the Silvergrove elves, Runaan has noticed, Ethari’s relative pacifism means he avoids publicly showing this side of himself. This truth about himself, which Runaan sees anyway, in glimpses: empathy and kindness, rather in excess of what Moonshadow society approves of.

All the while he’s thinking this, Ethari is bouncing Rayla up and down between sips of her Moonberry Surprise, making a game out of it. The sight of them playing, and the sound of her laughter, are beyond endearing to Runaan.

Then Rayla notices him watching and holds out her little arms to him. “Up!” she demands.

Runaan spares a moment to reflect that there was definitely a time when he was not a total pushover. Then he stands and lifts the tiny elf girl up onto his shoulders.

Ethari helps settle Rayla securely on her newfound perch. “Hey! When did you get so much taller than me?” he teases her, prompting another brief giggle.

His hand rests on Runaan’s shoulder as he speaks. Probably accidentally. Runaan tries not to think about the warmth of his touch, or wonder whether it lingers a moment longer than it has to.

He holds on to Rayla’s ankle, wary of dropping her. “Don’t squirm,” he warns.

But Rayla is already distracted by everything she can see from so high up. She pays him no heed, listing from side to side as if wanting to touch all the things on Ethari’s workbenches and shelves. When Runaan doesn’t immediately move toward the objects of her curiosity, she makes a pathetic whine in the back of her throat.

“You’re like a Moonstrider pup,” Runaan informs her, even as he obliges and takes a couple of steps forward.

Rayla just burbles and pokes at something shiny sitting on top of a cabinet. When Runaan peers closer, he sees that it’s one of a pair of horn guards — and that there are several more beside it, in various stages of completion. Of course. Although the elves of Silvergrove primarily go to Ethari for weapons (his are the most versatile and perfectly balanced), they also seek his services for engagements and jewellery in general.

Runaan gently nudges aside Rayla’s hand. “Careful,” he admonishes, but without much heat. “These are delicate.”

He glances at Ethari, who shrugs.

“I don’t make anything purely ornamental,” he says, then turns to address Rayla. “Wunie’s right, though; these do mean a lot to people. I have some other things you might like, over here.”

Runaan follows him to the far side of the workshop, where Ethari takes down a plain box and sets it on the table. Still seated on his shoulders, Rayla leans forward in anticipation, inadvertently pushing against Runaan’s head.

He laughs at how eager she is. “Alright, little one,” he says, and carefully sets her down.

They both watch as Ethari snaps open the catch on the box, and lifts the lid.

Inside is a collection of — Runaan doesn’t even have the words. Rationally, he recognises that these are ordinary household items. Small plates, hair clasps, buckles for securing supplies when travelling. They’re functional. But they’re also beautiful: engraved with swirls and curves, never a straight line anywhere. The silvery patterns remind Runaan of the way water moves in a river or brook under moonlight. They look like art, and yet they’re also textures begging to be touched. With careful hands. With reverence, or love.

Sitting cross-legged on the counter, Rayla’s eyes have gone wide.

“I didn’t know you made things like this,” Runaan says in awe. “Out of — what, scrap metal? Left over from your main work?”

Ethari shakes his head. “Not for these. Sometimes... people bring me weapons I can’t fix. Or won’t. Fine blades ruined because they were wielded improperly. Daggers they want to dispose of, that have drawn innocent blood.”

The mood turns sombre between them. Things happen. They both know it.

Ethari continues, “I never destroy them. I melt them down and reshape them.”

Runaan reaches out and runs his fingers over a hair clasp. It moves him, he realises: how much beauty Ethari sees in the world — even in the ugly, discarded parts of it — and brings out through his craft. Which he does, not out of obligation or necessity, but simply for the joy of creating something special out of something unwanted.

He remembers, abruptly, Ethari knocking on his door over a year ago. It was pouring rain and Ethari had been as sodden as the shivering bundle of fur cradled in his arms. The abandoned Shadowpaw pup had grown up hale and hearty under his care, after that first night when Runaan invited him in, offering him hot tea, blankets, a place by the fire. And — surprisingly, in retrospect — no questions as to why he showed up there.

He sees, with sudden clarity, that Ethari has always had a penchant for taking lost and broken things, and making them feel needed and whole.

“They’re amazing,” Runaan tells him, and bites back his next words. You’re amazing.

Instead of responding to the compliment, Ethari clasps his hands together nervously. “I, ah. I made that for you, actually.”

“What?” Runaan does a double take and stares at him. His fingers go still on the hair clasp. His heart thuds in his chest, thunderous.

Ethari quite deliberately unfastens his hands from each other. Pausing only to glance at Runaan, as if asking for permission, he leans forward and tucks a lock of Runaan’s hair behind his ear. The gesture is tender and shockingly familiar, as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

“It’s your heart,” Ethari tells him simply. “That’s what inspired me. You scowl and bluster, and goodness knows, you fight like a raging storm. But you also lay on the floor playing with a child because it makes her happy. You turn down the honour of joining the Dragon Guard with your best friends because you would rather stay and protect your home.”

He touches his shoulder. “Your heart is kind. It deserves something just as beautiful.”

Silent, stunned, Runaan watches him for a moment longer.

Then he surges forward and kisses him.

It’s only the briefest press of lips. He registers closeness, warmth. A huff of air from Ethari; he’s taken him by surprise. The other elf only begins to kiss back when Runaan is already pulling away again.

He gulps, instantly panicky. How many times has he dreamt of doing what he just did? And there he goes, rushing through it and probably ruining everything. He never even explained—

“I was wondering if you’d ever do that,” Ethari breathes.

Runaan blinks. “You knew?!”

Coming from a normally mild-mannered person, the look Ethari gives him then is exceedingly sassy. “Runaan, you come into my workshop with requests three times as often as any other elf. You volunteer to test out my weapon designs so we can talk shop and you can compliment my work, because you can’t figure out how else to express affection.”

He smirks at Runaan, but his voice is indulgent. “I love you, but you can be a real idiot sometimes.”

A beat.

“Oh,” Ethari mutters. “That just slipped out, didn’t it?”

And he rests both hands around Runaan’s neck, and pulls him into another kiss. This one is deeper, longer. Runaan is still stunned, but he quickly relaxes into the embrace. Just for a moment, he lets himself melt.

They only break apart when Rayla makes an indignant noise at no longer being the centre of attention.

She holds up some sort of rectangular, metal item from the box. “Mine?” she asks.

“What is that?” Runaan wonders aloud.

“A harness buckle,” Ethari supplies. He wags a finger at Rayla. “Maybe when you’re old enough to ride.”

Rayla makes a moue.

Runaan sighs as if very put upon by her (in all of two seconds, yes). “I’ll teach you,” he promises.

“Softie,” Ethari teases.

Runaan smiles lopsidedly. “I do my best.”

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur. They find ways to entertain Rayla, or more often, she comes up with them. At one point, having refused for over an hour, Rayla finally dozes off for her nap, curled up among some soft cloths Ethari uses to clean filigree. While she sleeps, Runaan and Ethari tiptoe around, putting things to rights around the workshop. Ethari offers him a comb he finds lying around, and shakes his head fondly when Runaan mouths the words, “I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

By the time Tiadrin and Lain return from their meeting, Rayla has roused from her nap to sleepily play a little more with her toy dragon. Lain picks her up without any bother from her. Leaning over her father’s shoulder, she waves goodbye to Runaan and Ethari.

Runaan waves back until she looks away to nuzzle her face in the hollow of Lain’s neck. Lain coos softly at her. It still surprises Runaan how differently his jokester friend behaves around his daughter.

He turns his attention to Tiadrin, who is hanging back. There’s a tension around her eyes that wasn’t there this morning. “Everything alright?” he asks, worried.

She hesitates, but nods briskly. “It will be. How was Rayla?”

“A perfect angel,” Runaan starts to say.

At the same time, Ethari nudges him and says, “Utterly spoiled by this one.”

Tiadrin tilts her head at them both, visibly taking in how close together they’ve subconsciously begun to stand. Runaan is struck by how much Rayla is picking up her mannerisms. They have the same intelligence behind their bright eyes as they puzzle him out.

“So,” Tiadrin says slowly, beginning to smile at them.

Runaan narrows his eyes. “So,” he says back at her.

On some level, he does mean for that to serve as confirmation of Tiadrin’s suspicions. Watching the way she glances between him and Ethari, looking genuinely pleased for them, Runaan knows she’s gotten the message.

Tiadrin lowers her voice. “You do realise Lain is going to be unbearable when I tell him that his ridiculous plan actually worked.”

“Was it really orchestrated by you two then?” Ethari asks.

She shrugs. “We just figured if we could find you an excuse to spend an afternoon in close quarters… you might work out the rest. Finally.”

“‘Finally’?” Runaan repeats. Tiadrin raises an eyebrow at him. Ethari holds up his hands in the universal gesture for I’m not getting into this.

Runaan groans. “Was I seriously the last one to know?”

“Seriously.” Tiadrin winks at him; she knows one of his pet peeves is when people answer rhetorical questions.

She moves toward the door. “You’re welcome,” she calls back over her shoulder as she leaves.

And Runaan is left in the same position as a few hours ago, when this whole adventure began. Only this time Ethari is standing right by him, close enough to touch, and he can do that now. He can stop wondering what that would feel like; he knows.

He also knows what it feels like to hear him speak the words I love you.

Runaan just isn’t as emotionally open as he is. He’s not built that way, no matter what Ethari may believe about his heart.

Ethari seems to know, somehow, what kinds of thoughts are running through his head. Quietly, into the hush of a room suddenly bereft of Rayla’s boisterous energy, he says, “You don’t have to say it back.”

Runaan looks at him. He… he wants to. He just doesn’t quite know how.

Biting his lip, he picks up the hair clasp from the table. The one Ethari said he’d made especially for him. Beauty out of broken bits. Something soft out of loss.

Runaan holds it out to Ethari. “Mine?” he says wryly, mimicking Rayla earlier. And all the while thinking, How do I tell you I love you?

Whether or not Ethari understands what he thinks but does not say then, Runaan may never know. But Ethari smiles, takes the clasp from him, and threads it gently through his hair. “Here,” he says. “I’ll teach you.”

[nightingaelic]

Fallout new vegas companions taking the courier's place in lonesome road (+ cut companions if that's cool with u) (thanks!!)

The problem with trying to adapt Lonesome Road to another character's experience is that so much of its story hinges on the courier's missing past and the former Frumentarius' struggle to make them understand what happened, why it caused a shockwave across multiple lives, locations and generations, and whether to avenge or let go of the harm that was unknowingly done to the Divide. So if you bring the companions into the mix instead of Courier Six, you either have a long-running story of mistaken identity (a hilarious concept, Ulysses being absolutely positive that the companion is the one who wrecked his dream home while they have no idea who this angry, verbose man is), or a drastically different history for the companions themselves. I say let's give that second option a shot, it seems fun and headcanon-y.

Arcade Gannon: While I don't think Arcade would be directly responsible for the destruction of the Divide, I think he would pale at hearing Ulysses' message searching for Enclave agents and would set out to confront the angry courier on behalf of his hidden family. The Enclave remnants are already hunted by the NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel, and the last thing they need is to be chased out of yet another home over something they didn't personally do. He'd accept ED-E's help wholeheartedly and consider turning back every time he ran into marked men or tunnelers, but his own resolve to save his loved ones would urge him to persevere. I think his determination would intrigue Ulysses, enough to engage the young research scientist in conversation if he arrived at the end of the road in one piece, and the courier might even let go of his vendetta if Arcade revealed that he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart rather than a sense of duty. Arcade would cancel the nuke launch, but would seriously consider blowing up the Legion.

Craig Boone: We know the NCR and Legion were fighting over the Divide before the ICBMs leveled the area. But what if that was by design, rather than by accident? Maybe Boone has more skeletons in his closet than just Bitter Springs, and he was part of a strike team that used old Enclave technology to surprise the Legion forces and seal off an access route, a decision based on math and made by men who had never met the people of Hopeville and Ashton that they sentenced to death. It's yet another weight on the sniper's conscience, and yet another debt he feels obligated to pay, so when Ulysses' call goes out, he answers. The usual dangers of the Divide wouldn't slow him down, but the turbulent weather would irritate him to no end. Upon arrival at the temple, Boone wouldn't mince words because he already knows he's guilty of the charge and he knows Ulysses used to walk for the Legion. If he survived the encounter, Boone would take the opportunity to rain the same destruction down on Caesar's troops.

Lily Bowen: There are about 119 years of Lily's life as a super mutant that are unaccounted-for, and we know she suffers from schizophrenia like many other nightkin. Perhaps it was Lily who discovered the Enclave package and unwittingly left it in the home of America's missiles: Perhaps it was Leo. I'm inclined to think it was Leo, who was probably searching for a cache of Stealth Boys in the old military installations across the desert, and who simply didn't care when a new hole in the earth opened up behind him. Lily, on the other hand, cares deeply, and would set out after Ulysses in the interest of making amends where she could. More so than any other companion, I think Lily would be disturbed by the tunnelers and would go out of her way to crush them wherever they popped up. The marked men would earn her sympathy and she would do her best to knock them out without killing them. After doing the same to Ulysses, Lily would cancel the launch and weep over the subsequent loss of ED-E. She would likely bring the little eyebot back to the Mojave and search for a way to fix it.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: We already know that Raul goes to extreme lengths to avenge the people he cares about, so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to mix his backstory into the story of the Divide. Following the murder of Claudia in Tucson/Two Sun, Raul chased Dirty Dave and his brothers across Arizona and into the town of Ashton before killing them. Unbeknownst to him, Dirty Dave had a package with him that could speak to the nuclear missile silos hidden in the Divide, and the earth crumbled behind the vaquero as he made his way back home. Though he'd heard of the devastation, Raul didn't put two and two together until Ulysses sent out his summons, and because he didn't have anything planned that week, the old mechanic decided to answer the call. He would put up with Ulysses' messages like a good sport until he encountered the man in the temple, where he would refuse to fight until the two talked things out like civil people. I think Ulysses would be surprised at the revelation that the ghoul he had cast as a villain was following his own quest for vengeance and unaware of the package, and would come away somewhat amused by the situation. They would most likely team up to fight off the marked men, and Raul would cancel the launch and take a wrench to the machines to prevent any more "misunderstandings."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Let's say one of Cass' caravans delivered a package back in the day. Let's say that package accidentally buried the caravan crew and an entire community along with it. Let's say Cass knows, and that's one of the reasons she drinks. While Courier Six walks the Divide out of curiosity about their missing past, I think Cass would do it as a form of penance in and of itself, with a little desire for self-destruction thrown into the mix. The journey would start out as a bender fueled by self-loathing and the fanciful notion of giving her missing caravan a proper funeral, and by the time Cass runs out of whiskey she's already halfway through the Cave of the Abaddon and punching holes through the tunnelers with her shotgun. She would largely ignore Ulysses' cryptic messages and holotapes, but she'd grow fond of the little eyebot that took a shine to her and would tear after it once the mysterious courier repossessed it. Following the final battle, Cass would cancel the launch, but only at the very last second, just to revel in the fleeting feeling of control.

Veronica Santangelo: I just can't see Veronica knowingly or unknowingly waking up a nuclear arsenal with a careless application of tech, but I can totally see her stumbling upon the aftermath of something her old mentor is responsible for. Father Elijah already has a tenuous grasp on the consequences of his own actions, and we know that the prototype tech that controls the Divide's weather is a Big MT project. Maybe Elijah paid Hopeville a visit to check it out and took his investigation a little too far when he discovered the nukes. This would explain Ulysses' directions to the old man to find the Sierra Madre, sealing his doom inside the casino. But where does that leave Ulysses? Along comes Veronica, following her mentor's trail of destruction, and the courier can't help but guide her along the path, show her the meaning of the wreckage and the danger of pre-war technology when left to the discretion of those with old-world values, like the Brotherhood. Along that line, I think Ulysses would try to test her like he does Courier Six, and would schedule a launch to see what she does. Veronica would cancel the launch and resolve to never tell her brothers and sisters in Steel about the secrets of the Divide. She might dump some water on the consoles for good measure. More importantly, I think she might finally realize that the unchanging family she clings to can only die out, or go down the same path that Elijah did.

ED-E: Given that ED-E is a robot, I think Ulysses would be hell-bent on finding whoever sent the little guy rather than consider that the eyebot saw a package with Enclave markings on it, picked it up of its own accord, and deposited it wherever it next encountered old American symbols. Through its communication with the other eyebots in the Divide, I think ED-E would get the picture about the courier's quest for the responsible party and play dumb for as long as possible. The other ED-E would help conceal the mistake to save its new friend, but Ulysses isn't stupid and would eventually figure it out. But how do you effectively punish a robot? Maybe he would set the nukes to target the Divide again, to send any remaining eyebots to the scrapyard for good, but it's a long shot. If he did, ED-E would cancel the launch, but would join its override system capabilities to its counterpart's and use the combined decryption power to ensure that both eyebots make it through the ordeal unharmed.

Rex: This good boy would never even consider entering the Divide. Seriously, what dog in their right mind would go in there? What cyberdog? No thank you. Still, the idea of a dog being responsible for the nukes and Ulysses continuing to hold a grudge is beyond funny. Maybe Rex was part of a mission for the Legion when he still belonged to Caesar, part of the group that leveled the Divide on behalf of the Bull. Maybe that's why Antony says he was "lost in battle," and maybe he's the only surviving member of that squad. I don't see why Ulysses would hang around the Divide waiting for the dog to look upon the hell he'd wrought, and he would more than likely seek the canine out himself as soon as he heard about the King's new pet. From there, the story turns into Courier Six investigating an assassination attempt on a goddamned dog, and the events of Lonesome Road play out pretty much the same way they were written - plus plenty of asides about how Ulysses is going to way too much effort over a creature that can't comprehend what nukes are.

Benny Gecko: Few people know that Yes Man was actually one of two securitrons that Benny managed to incapacitate and reprogram, and while the head of the Chairmen hid his favorite in the Tops for safekeeping, he sent the other out into the world for some recon and experimentation. Imagine his surprise when Yes Man was able to remotely hack into a nuclear missile silo and wipe out a budding trade community. And who would've thought that test run was going to come back to bite him in the ass, right after he was sprung from the Legion camp? I think Benny would do everything in his power to avoid entering the Divide, but I also think Ulysses would have little patience for him and would actively force the disgraced city boy into walking the Courier's Mile by blocking any other path out of the Mojave. Benny would form an attachment to ED-E, similar to Yes Man, but would complain the whole way and confront his tormenter with little remorse. He would also nuke both the NCR and the Legion if he came away alive, probably with some snarky one-liner about "letting the chips fall where they may."

Vulpes Inculta: Vulpes already has a few scorched-earth badges on his Pioneer Scouts belt (Nipton, Camp Searchlight, etc.), so eliminating the Divide is just another tactic in the grand strategy playing out between the Bull and the Bear. All he needed to do was leave a certain package in town, and the problem basically solved itself. Unfortunately, that deserter of his wasn't buried under the wreckage, and now Caesar has ordered him to assassinate the renegade. The fool keeps announcing his whereabouts every few hours or so, making tracking an easy task, but by the third time he feels eyes on the back of his neck and turns to find nothing there, Vulpes can't help but wonder whether the student has surpassed the teacher. The final showdown of Frumentarii would be something for the ages, a clash of philosophies and loyalties with plenty of verbal sparring between the bullets. If he survived the encounter with Ulysses, Vulpes would definitely nuke the NCR.

Ulysses: This cut companion can't very well face off against himself, can he? Unless... he was the courier who accidentally brought the Enclave detonator that sealed the Divide's doom. Given the weight of this grief, I think Ulysses would similarly force himself to walk the length of the Divide, take in the utter destruction that his own actions had wrought, and reflect on the meaning of one man changing the course of history. When it came down to the final room, the final decision, our disillusioned courier would activate the launch as a way of testing himself, testing his own resolve. Like Cass, he would stare at the machines shuddering to life around him until the very last moment, before shutting the system down for good, smiling under his breathing mask and walking away forever.

Victor: The robot cowboy doesn't really know what the angry man on the eyebot keeps talking about. He certainly doesn't remember delivering a package to a place called Hopeville or Ashton. Why would he? Mr. House is very good about covering his tracks, particularly when it comes to eliminating business rivals. Really, it could have been any old securitron. Nevertheless, Victor rolls merrily along in search of the courier who summoned his master, letting his own optics passively take in the devastated wasteland left behind by bombs that launched 200 years too late. Because of his robotic nature, I think it'd be a lot easier for Ulysses to get the drop on Victor and disable him at the temple, then wait until House sent another envoy or came himself. House would probably lose interest as soon as he got his data, which I don't think would stall Ulysses much: Once he figured out the Strip's owner isn't coming, he'd find some way to get inside the Lucky 38. If, however, Victor prevailed in the final struggle, he would nuke both the NCR and the Legion on behalf of Mr. House.

[ineedrelationshipadvice]

This is a little TMI but I started dating a guy before quarantine and during quarantine where been having basically phone sex using FaceTime. I can’t get off but he’s so into it and I don’t know what to do. It’s not like he’s forcing me he’s just asking me and I don’t really mind or want to say no. It’s like he’ll just jerk off and I can’t get off. We do it like 2-3 times a week. This is kinda embarrassing, it’s okay if you choose to ignore this.

This is not embarrassing, nor is this TMI. There's nothing wrong with this, and you should try to remember that sex and sexuality is a normal part of dating and relationships! Phone sex included, and being incapable of reaching orgasm included. Don't stress about that detail at least!

That being said, what certainly is stressful is not being able to get off while trying your damndest to do so, especially while your partner is experiencing the pleasure that you may or may not be wanting to experience. There's a lot to discuss in an issue like this that I frankly can't do, because I don't know enough about you or your unique situation. Why someone can't reach orgasm in any distinct situation is always a unique thing, and those are best discussed with a clinical sexologist so that they can work with you directly to solve your own unique issues.

But there are a few things we can go over here that can hopefully lead to toward having better phone sex!

Firstly, you mention that he's not forcing you to do this, and that you don't mind. But you also say that you "don't want to say no." Not minding something and not wanting to say no are two different things. And while it's good that he's not forcing you - that's just basic human decency right there - I do have some concerns with the fact that you don't seem super enthusiastic about doing this. Is there a reason you can think of that you're not enthusiastic about this?

Is it because you feel embarrassed sharing that side of you? If you're not enjoying this because you feel like the relationship may be moving too fast, or you just don't really want to be doing sexual stuff like that, then that's perfectly understandable. It just means that you probably aren't really ready for all that yet, and you should let your partner know that you're not really interested in doing that sort of stuff anymore.

Is it perhaps strictly the phone sex part that's putting you off? I can totally relate to that if so. I've had a few long-distance partners who want to masturbate with me over calls. I don't really jive with it... I'm not a particularly vocal-based person, and making the noises and sounds of sex to let them know my pleasure level is super cringey to me, and I don't like doing it. I don't mind doing it, but it's definitely not my preferred way to handle things. Why do I do it? I mean, if it makes them happy, that's all I care about at the end of the day. But I am not you, and if you need more out of this than making your partner happy, then that's something you should seriously consider.

These are the more emotional sides of the argument. And remember, any of the things I bring up here could be the issue. It could be one of these issues, or none of these issues, or all of the above! You'll have to diagnose that yourself with your own knowledge of how your life and emotions are.

But, to pivot the conversation, perhaps the real cause of concern is that he is able to get off but you are not. If this is the cause, then there are two factors to consider: what is causing you to not receive pleasure and do you know the proper ways to pleasure yourself.

Firstly, what is causing you not to receive pleasure? This kinda goes with the things we said previously. Is it shyness or embarrassment? Do you feel uncomfortable during these phone sex scenarios? If so, what is making you uncomfortable. Is it something you're doing, something he's doing, something that he's expecting of you, or is it just the whole situation overall? The situation is unique to you, so only to can discern something like this. But try to look at the situation from an outside perspective, and see what's actually making you unhappy or uncomfortable with the situation. Is there any way to remedy or fix that situation? Is there something that you can do, he can do, or that can be done in general that would make you more comfortable?

For instance, in one of my long-distance relationships, my girlfriend was VERY self-conscious of her body. But I'm a horny dude, so I obviously wanted to see her. She wanted to be sexual with me, but didn't want to show herself off via webcam while she was having fun on her end. That's totally fair! Instead, I asked if she'd be fine sending nudes. She was sheepish, but was happy with that idea, because she had control of what to send and how she wanted to pose sending them; this compared to the lack of control of doing things on a live camera, which felt awkward to her (a feeling I share, I hate doing that sort of stuff on camera if I don't have to).

So what are your boundaries to all of this? Do you dislike being on cam? Turn the camera off and focus on the audio component of getting your partner off. Is it the audio that is weirding you out? Ask your partner if you can perhaps transition to text-based sexting, if that would be more comfortable to you. There are lots of little changes you can make here or there that could increase your comfort while not decreasing your partner's pleasure, and you should try to explore every avenue available to you!

But to the second thing I mentioned, do you know the proper ways to please yourself? You did not reveal your gender or sexuality in your message. So out of intuition, I'm going to assume that you're female, and my advice from hereon is going to reflect that. If I'm wrong, please write back in, and I can adjust my advice to your unique needs!

Besides all that, it may sound like such an obvious question, but let's be honest, most sexual education is awful, and especially if you have traditionally cisgender lady parts, lots of education is sorely lacking in telling you how to pleasure yourself! How do fix? The answer is by educating yourself!

This goes into how you pleasure yourself? For instance, where do you focus your pleasure? Do you finger yourself thoroughly? Well, did you know that less than half of all cisgender ladies orgasm through vaginal penetration alone? LESS THAN HALF! That's a lot of ladies. Make sure to incorporate other things that can help raise your physical pleasure. Rubbing, touching, massaging of your body - grabbing your tits, ass, thighs, maybe even playful scratching - can all help boost your physical mood. Don't forget your emotional mood either! Light some candles, make sure your room and bed isn't dirty and cluttered, take a shower if you feel unattractive and unhygenic because all of these things can also influence your sexual pleasure. Then, also consider focusing more on other ways of pleasuring yourself. Focus on your clit, and try to find the right ways to pleasure yourself there. Don't discount other portions of your body too, if you're into that stuff. Also consider trying out some sex toys if you never have before, because this often helps lots of people in your situation take things to the next level.

Also, don't assume orgasm to be the main goal of sex! It's not. PLEASURE is the goal of sex, sharing yourself with your partner in a highly intimate way is the goal of sex. Orgasm is not the goal, nor is it the reward. It's a thing that happens sometimes, and if you reach orgasm, it feel really good! But you're not "doing it wrong" if you're not hitting that space, and you're not doing it bad if you're not able to cum. It's okay.

I could go on, but why would I step on the toes of Dr. Doe who did it infinitely better on Sexplanations. I would seriously recommend watching this video to learn more about clitoral orgasms, as this is stuff the majority of girls reading this right now probably never learned in their sex ed classes.

Related, Sexplanations also did an ENTIRE VIDEO this year on phone sex. It's a biggie, and tackles basically any and every issue related to phone sex that you could possibly imagine. So I sincerely recommend you watch the whole thing and see how you feel at the end of everything.

The point of all this is, it's okay. It's okay to want phone sex, and it's okay to not want phone sex. It's okay to get off during phone sex, and it's okay if you can't reach that point. But it's also okay to explore yourself and have fun during these times! And if you're not having fun, it's okay to say no and say you're not really feeling it. Do what feels right for you.

[spacehologramcollection]

Kombat Krew Marriage ceremony headcanons;

Part two of the proposing to their S/O, so the actual ceremony and all that jazz. So, this was very long, so I’m going to do a part 2 with the rest from the original post, and add some of the Kombat ladies in there. There’s more under the cut, it was just very long! Kano is in here, but its just a shit post. Enjoy! GIFS do not belong to me, I did not make them, they belong to their creators. 

Johnny Cage;

·         Depending on how old he is, will depend on what type of wedding you get. If its post- Cassie and he’s more mature; he’ll want something a little smaller, but just as lavish. If he’s not mature and he’s younger, expect something wild, large and full of paparazzi.

·         He’d want everything to be over the top, expensive and lavish at all times.

·         You can have whatever you want for the big day. Money is of no object.

·         Your dress/suit is the most expensive thing known to man, there is no limit on it.

·         Cassie is going to be your Maid of Honour, she’s been waiting for an opportunity like this. She’ll actually calm her dad down, she knows what you like and what you want, so she’ll steer her dad in that direction.

·         In his wilder days, he’d want something expensive for the venue. He would try and hire out something stupid, like the top of the Empire States building, or the Eiffel Tower.

·         In his mature days, he’d want something like a beach wedding; far away, in a warm place, with very few paparazzi… he can upload the photos to his social media when he wants.

·         He looks fly in his suit, promises in his vows this will be the last time he does this.

·         Jax and Kenshi are his two Best men. All of them looking fly as fuck in their suits. All with matching ties.

·         He would ask Sub- Zero and Scorpion to provide the entertainment, they declined, even after the promise of cake and food. With Sub Zero stating that Johnny is entertainment enough.

·         The fucking ring is obnoxious either way.

·         First Dance song; Thinking out Loud- Ed Sheeran, the full routine, you’ve both taken Dancing Lessons. You’re about to show everyone the fuck up.  https://open.spotify.com/track/34gCuhDGsG4bRPIf9bb02f

 Kabal;

·         He’s a laid-back guy, so once you say yes to the proposal, it’s up to you what you want.

·         There is a ‘We’ in Wedding, so he will have some input, but he wants you to have the best day ever.

·         Whatever his Princess/Prince wants, you will get. He’s actually really excited and wants most things to be kept under wraps. He wants to be surprised on the day.

·         He does want input on the cake, god he wants input on that. He has a sweet tooth, so its only natural he wants to help decide that.

·         He’ll help send the invitations, opts to put a fuck ton of glitter on them, why? Because he kind of wants them to be forever reminded of your day. Glitter gets everywhere and stays for a life time, says it’s a metaphor for your relationship.

·         His Pre and Post burn ideas will change.

·         Pre-Burn, he’d want something mid-sized, but isn’t against somewhere public. He won’t do it at the Black Dragon Fight Club. Kano suggested it, along with suggesting Officiating it. Kabal struck him off the Guest List. He’d want something like a fancy hotel. Of course, you’re both staying over the day before and the night of it.

·         Post-Burn, he wants something small, the guest list is very limited. He feels like a monster every other day of the year; his wedding day doesn’t change his own self-appreciation. For his Post-Burn venue, he’d want maybe a small, secluded alcove, somewhere without a lot of people.

·         Imagine him in a tux with a bowtie. Oh god I died.

·         His worries melt away when he sees you in your dress/suit. He doesn’t feel like a tit in a suit, he feels like the luckiest man in the world. He forgets that there are others in the room. He just focuses on you and how perfect you are.

·         He thinks you’re perfect. (To be fair Riptide by Vance Joy would probably be playing as you walk down the Aisle, because of the lyric “I swear she’s destined for the screen, closest thing to Michelle Phiefer that you’ve ever seen” I headcanon he’s a sucker for some Indie music, so… Don’t @me)

·         He’d prepare his own vows Post-Burn as well. And would tear up a little.

·         His Best man situation would depend on which route he took, if he went straight, it would be Stryker. If not, it would be Erron. Him and Erron always had a friendly rivalry.

·         The rings are actually pretty simple, not overly-gawdy, and it fits perfectly.

· Kabal has two potential first dance songs for his Pre-Burn; 

·         First one is Ophelia - The Lumineers  https://open.spotify.com/track/5NORWMFC27ywGSZxi8uquP       The second Pre-Burn one is; San Luis- Gregory Alan Isakov. https://open.spotify.com/track/7gDNQLV9cr8449LFrQbk5J

·         First Dance song Post-Burn; Big Black Car- Gregory Alan Isakov. https://open.spotify.com/track/3Kj2EWpIBnvETsYq4cq0IH

 Erron Black;

·         He’s really into planning it. It gives you both a chance to get closer. He never thought he’d get married, so he’s totally down for being involved in it.

·         He won’t wear a suit as expected, more like one of his uniform skins from 11. Suits and Tux’s ain’t his thing.

·         He’ll want to have a proper Country Wedding. It’s what feels familiar. Or, he’d maybe consider getting married in Outworld. Kotal officiating of course.

·         But a Barn, some mason jars, and some very strong booze. Is his go to.

·         BBQ style wedding breakfast. That’s the only thing he’s dead set on.

·         Also, he’d want a band playing, live music. There better be some country on there. Or he will raise hell.

·         Hope you can stand the fucking banjo.

·         He’ll let you do whatever you want with your Wedding Party and all of that. Your dress/suit is your choice, but he’s going to pay for it.

·         Depending on where he is in his life, will depend on who’s there/ his Best Man/men.

·         If he’s in Outworld, Kotal is officiating and he’s got no other choice, but to have Ermac as his Best Man. Which is the equivalent of having 10,000 best men. ‘We are so happy for you Erron Black’

·         In his Black Dragon Days, Kabal is his Best Man. They may fight, argue and sometimes hate each other. But they are friends deep, deep, deep down. He’s better than Kano.

·         He actually scrubs up pretty nice. You’re surprised on your big day to see what he looks like without the poncho, bandana and layer of grime. It’s not something you’d always want him to be like.

·         He’s speechless when he sees you. You’re sure if he were wearing his hat, he’d tip it in surprise. But you can tell by the way his eyes light up, he’s loving how amazing you look. He commits it to memory and mouths how lucky he is.

·         The rings are ornate, they’ve got each other’s initials in them.

·         First Dance; Bless The Broken Road- Rascal Flatts https://open.spotify.com/track/0gKo3I4FCEY40X37Gdkcaf

I really struggled with his, because country music is not my jam, but I felt this would fit. Either that or some Johnny Cash.

 Sub Zero (Kuai Liang);

·         He feels terrible, but the Wedding Ceremony has little to no wiggle room, in some places. You’re marrying into his Clan. So, the Ceremony, Venue and Vows are pretty set.

·         Bi-Han (Going off of his 11 ending) has to Officiate, and it is tense for Kuai. “Do you, Y/N, Take Kuai, The Lesser Sub Zero, to be yours? Even, when his hotter, older brother, is stood right here.” He threatens to say that, but he opts to keep it classy for the ceremony, embarrassing for the speech.

·         His Best men are going to be Scorpion and Smoke. It’s obvious.

·         He lets you pick out your dress/suit, he would want a little bit of blue in there somewhere. Just because it’s the Lin Kuei colours. He’s not overly bothered if not. But something borrowed, something blue, just wear his headband somewhere, even if its in a covered-up place. Kill two birds with one stone.

·         He won’t get to wear a suit, he has to wear his Formal Grandmaster uniform. His tits are sort of out, bit less side-boob though. This is a wedding guys, he has to keep it classy.

·         It’s very Formal.

·         Johnny Offers his services as Entertainment, you’re not sure if he’s joking or not. So, you have to reiterate the point, that’s not happening.

·         Kuai has amazing handwriting, so he’ll handwrite all the invitations, he doesn’t trust technology which drives you up the wall. You could have an instant RSVP, but no, you gotta wait for people to basically send a fucking raven. God Dam it.

·         The Ceremony is obviously at the Lin Kuei temple. Prepare for some cold, you may need a fucking cloak rather than veil. It is freezing.

·         He wishes he could give you the wedding of your dreams, but he is a Grandmaster and it comes with certain strings. But, can you really complain when you’re getting to marry him? No.

·         He is shooketh when he sees you. He smiles a lot. He cannot believe he gets to marry you. You’re to become his spouse, his partner, the wife/husband of the Grandmaster.

·         You get a ring, he gets a ring, their both just simple bands, both have the Lin Kuei symbol engraved in the centre. Yours has a sapphire in the centre.

·         He will tie a knot in his uniform or switch his headband up. To either your favourite colour or if you have family crest, to your family crest colours. Just to reiterate the point, he’s taken and he’s yours.

·         He hasn’t prepared public vows, PDA and anything like that makes him uncomfortable. But he will tell you them during the first dance. Whispering them to you.

·         First Dance Song; (I struggled with this one, a lot as well. Hanzo, Kuai and Erron. Sort your music tastes out) I Stand By me- The Florence and the Machine version. https://open.spotify.com/track/5XSU59wtE5CRCAEyHmmGy4

·         I think it would fit your relationship with him perfectly, the right pace for a song, and the lyrics are cute as fuck. This could work for Hanzo and vice versa, his could fit Sub. God dam it, I am bad at this.

Scorpion (Hanzo Hasashi)

·         He has been married before, so he understands the process, the planning and what is expected.

·         He kind of wants this one to be different, but he knows, like Kuai, he has obligations to fulfil. It has to be traditional, but that doesn’t mean he can’t shake things up a little. I mean, he’s a little more adventurous nowadays.

·         You’ll still have to have the traditional ceremony. Which would probably take place in the Fire Gardens? (I’m not sure about this, if you guys know, please tell me)

·         He does let you choose your dress/suit and party. That part is up to yours. But you are marrying into the Shira Ryu, so, you would need to have the ceremony.

·         Takeda, Kenshi, Sub and even Johnny are clawing to be his Best Men. Sub’s not overly bothered, but on the inside, he’s like please let me have this.

·         He can’t decide, and he knows anything he says, will result in more arguments. So, he has all of them. Problem solving.

·         Like Sub Zero, he cannot wear a suit, he has to be in his finest Yellow fucking Ninja outfit. God dam it. Less tits and side boob than Sub though. So, there’s that.

·         If someone screams ‘Get over there’ when you’re walking down the aisle, they will be fucking speared. No. Don’t do it.

·         He’s lost for words watching you walk up the aisle. It’s like your redemption and his future. A second chance at happiness, his future and everything he’s ever wanted, longed and feared for.

·         He’s nervous, but he doesn’t let it show. He’s prepared the things he has to say over and over again. Practised it a lot, so why does he have a lump in his throat?

·         He flashes you a smile as you reach him, takes your hand into his and starts speaking so elegantly. Some of it will be in his native tongue, but its fine, because he’ll have prepared you for it.

·         He hand forged the rings, melted the metal himself, helped cast them and even engraved them himself. He’s proud of them, let him have his moment.

·         There both simple bands, nothing too fancy, little tiny scorpion simple on the inside though.

·         Throughout the whole day, he cannot take his eyes off of you. You’re this shining fucking light and he adores you.

·         First Dance song; (He doesn’t really have a particular music taste, so he’ll let you pick, I’m just suggesting this) Only Love- Ben Howard. https://open.spotify.com/track/2uhEKg8kIzpdvz4gyy6x8W

·         I’m suggesting this because of the lyrics mainly. It’s also got a nice and slow pace, something you can both sway to, because he cannot fucking dance. But, Kuai’s could work for him and vice versa. His could work with Kuai.

Kano;

·         Trashiest wedding ever. I’ve already said all of this but…

·         It’s so shit. Like you’re getting married at the Black Dragon Fight Club.

·         He is not wearing a suit, hell, he’s not even wearing a shirt.

·         The smoke machine broke, so he’s just got Kabal vaping.

·         Erron is telling jokes to ease the mood, it’s not easing the mood.

·         He turns up late and drunk.

·         Just say fucking no and run off with Erron or Kabal. Just fucking do it. Leave him standing at the Altar.

[teamhook]

A Chapter a Day... Savage Heart CS AU

Okay, last chapter was on the short side. I’m debating with the thought of posting an extra one...

This story will be finished by the end of the month. :)

A love story between a pirate and his savior. An innocent, beautiful, selfless woman meets a man with no manners, no formal education and not even a last name. Will Emma fall in love with Killian once she discovers that beneath his tough exterior lies a heart-wild, but a heart of gold? This is a Captain Swan AU

Beta-ed by the wonderful @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​

Cover by the amazing @xhookswenchx​

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 8: Best Laid Plans

August wakes up to find that his wife is missing. He assumes that she is eating breakfast with his mother and Emma, maybe Snow, but probably not as she hardly leaves her room. He gets up and gets ready. Walking into the dining room, he finds his mother eating breakfast alone. He decides to take advantage and talk to her about another matter.

"Mother, have you seen Milah?" August asks.

"Sorry son, I'm afraid I haven't seen your wife once since I have been up. I do know she was seen leaving the estate earlier by one of the staff, but she didn't say to where," Cora answers.

"Oh. I will ask her about her whereabouts later. There is another matter I would love to discuss with you. Mother, I was wondering if you knew what became of that boy father had brought to the house to keep me company when I was a boy. It was shortly before father had that accident and died?" August waits for a response from his mother.

Cora looks at August and tries not to show any emotion as she answers, "Oh yes that lowlife boy your father decided to take in as a charity case? If memory serves me, his name is Killian Jones. Well, he ended up becoming the only thing someone like him could have, a dirty pirate. I was right about the path in which he was heading. I'm just happy I was able to send him away and save you before he could do any real damage." Cora's tone is cold and uncaring as she remembers her husband's bastard son.

"Mother, I never understood your dislike for him. I cannot help wonder, if he would have stayed with us, like my father had intended, perhaps he may have made better choices? Father must have seen something special in him to have seen him worthy of living with us. Now that I'm a full grown, married man, and not a boy that has to listen to you, I will finally be able to fulfill my father's dying request," August said firmly.

"What are you talking about? Your father's request... " Did her dead husband reveal Killian's true lineage? Cora is dreading the answer.

"Mother, all father said was for me to take care of him. I intend to offer him the vacant steward position. Why are you so pale, are you feeling well?" August inquires.

"I'm sorry to say this, but we are not in need of a steward. We have not had the need for one since your father died. Even if that was the case, we have you. To be honest, just the thought of you wanting to bring that pirate into this house makes me ill. Are you sure doing this is a good idea? You recently married a young impressionable girl that could easily be seduced by that scoundrel, especially with the reputation he has with women. Son, I know you care for him, but I don't believe bringing him to work as a steward is a good idea." Cora truly hopes she is making her case.

"Mother, I was unable to give Milah the honeymoon she deserves because of her aunt's sudden health issues. Emma is at the convent on the verge of taking her vows. Mr. Nolan is still away. I want to take her on an extended honeymoon traveling. That is why I want to offer Killian the position. I never intended for us to stay here permanently."

Cora fumes as she stares. "You want to leave me again? This must have been your wife's bright idea!" Cora screams.

"Mother if memory serves me correctly, it was your decision to send me away to study abroad when I needed you most. I had just lost my father and you just sent me away… and Milah has no idea of my plans," August states calmly. "It is decided mother; I will honor my father's last wishes and offer Killian the job of steward. I will not negotiate this decision. I will meet with Mr. Hopper to ask him for help in reaching out to Killian. It is unfortunate that Emma decided to join the convent. I believe a woman like her would have been a perfect match for Killian. If he is truly the man you describe, a good woman would certainly make him see the need to become a better man," August adds.

"How dare you say such a thing? Son, I helped in Emma's education to ensure she would have made a wonderful wife for you, not for some lowlife filth! You see her worth only to pair her off with that man?" Cora is disgusted by her son's thoughts.

Milah returns to home after her tryst with Killian and quickly checking on the Nolan house. She had hoped for a more enticing reunion with Killian but it would have to do for now. As she walks down the hall she overhears the end of the conversation between August and his mother. Who were they arguing about, she wonders. Then she hears steps approaching, she turns to see her cousin Emma.

"Milah, I will be leaving for the convent later today. I'm just here to check on my mother," Emma says. "Please don't bring any more shame to this family. My father has been away from the family for so long already, he hopes to recover some of that lost honor. Please, don't make the sacrifice of the family be in vain," Emma pleads with her cousin.

Milah just stares at Emma as she speaks. Does she know something?

"I will promptly say goodbye to my mother and then find the rest of the household and let them know I will be leaving," Emma says quietly.

Emma wonders if she should mention to Milah that she knows of her affair with the pirate, or if her little speech will be enough. She knows she cannot have that conversation with her in the house. Before she can make her way to her mother's room, August followed by Cora come out of the dining room.

Emma smiles and says, "I was telling Milah I will be leaving later today. I was on my way to visit with my mother for a while and then say my goodbyes."

Cora answers, "Oh darling girl, I wish you would stay longer but I understand."

August adds, "Emma, please know this is your home and that you are welcome anytime. We will make sure your mother is well taken care of."

"Thank you, I truly appreciate the gesture," Emma answers and walks to her mother's room.

Cora follows after Emma and says loud enough for everyone to hear, "Emma, let me walk you to your mother's room. Then I will go lay down, suddenly I have a headache."

August looks toward Emma and his mother and silently mutters a few choice words, then turns to his lovely bride with a smile. "Milah, where did you go this morning?" August inquires.

"I went to go check on the house; I had asked Emma to let you know," Milah answers.

"Oh, that is good of you sweetheart," August says. "Milah, I will be offering the steward position to an old childhood friend," August tells her.

"Your mother didn't sound happy; I could hear the argument all the way to the front door," Milah says.

"I don't care if she is happy, it's not her decision. I will do this, then I will be able to give you a proper honeymoon." August says.

"I'm not complaining. I just don't want your mother to think it was my idea. She hates me. I know she wishes you would have married Emma."

"It doesn't matter what she says or thinks, I love you. I chose you. Your cousin is a lovely woman and it is a shame she has decided on becoming a nun. I was telling my mother that it would have been perfect if my old friend was to meet her. I believe they would be good for each other. He needs the love of a good woman."

"Oh, I had no idea you wanted to be a matchmaker." Milah smiles as she teases her husband.

"It doesn't matter now," August says.

Soon the conversation ventures into small talk as the couple discuss ideas for their honeymoon. Emma emerges sometime later and says her goodbyes. Cora keeps to herself, still not recovered from her conversation with her son.

Killian walks into Tiny's Golden Goose Tavern after his meeting with Milah and his encounter with her cousin Emma. He really needed a drink to calm his nerves. He is supposed to be on his way to Archie's office to set his plan into motion. The reality is simple, he was truly caught off guard by the fierce owner of emerald green eyes and a repulsed expression on what he considers a stunning face.

He had been so entranced by her and for a brief moment, all he had wanted was simply to reach out and touch her. He had not even realized he had moved his hand to reach out to her. Then she suddenly stepped back, away from his touch. That is the moment he snapped out of the trance and he came back to his senses.

He doesn't understand why she had affected him so much. Without thinking, he smiles at the thought of her and that horrid outfit, despite which she was still gracefully beautiful. She has a light to her that he is so drawn to, like a moth to the flame.

He can't stop thinking about what she had said to him. This is the first time he truly questions his actions and selfish thoughts. Sure he can be charitable, he donates anonymously to the orphanage, but this is different, this is about him, it had felt different.

No one had ever made him feel ashamed of who and what he had become. Countess Emma Nolan must be a Saint to make him feel this way. He secretly dubs her Saint Emma. After just one meeting she has gifted him remorse, how very generous of her.

Yes, he knows Milah is married, and by all accounts, he should just walk away and be a better man, but he still wants her. He loves her, he is selfish. If only he didn't feel so guilty now. None of this matters though, as a man unwilling to fight, deserves what he gets.

Killian takes a swig of his rum, trying to get lost in the burn of the alcohol when he notices one of the locals harassing Tink. He quickly gets up and heads towards them.

"What the bloody hell do you think you are doing? Unhand her!" Killian grits out.

The man simply looks at him and continues fondling Tink who is struggling against his hold.

Killian snaps and punches the man repeatedly, until his head is bruised and bloodied. No one makes an attempt to stop him. He has unleashed all of his bottled up anger of finding out Milah has married another upon this poor nameless man.

His knuckles are bloodied and cracked from the vicious assault. Tink quickly grabs him and pulls him up the stairs to her room.

She cleans the blood off his hands and as soon as she finishes he tells her he must leave as he has an important meeting to get to. Giving her his thanks, he makes sure the coast is clear and heads out to see Archie.

He had it coming is all he can think. He hates that Tink works at the tavern, he had asked Tiny to keep her in the kitchen, but sometimes she ventures out to the dining room. She is a pretty young girl so she is bound to attract some unwarranted attention.

Killian now has two reasons for his meeting with Archie, he mulls over his newest request as he rides toward his friend's home. He doesn't want his notorious reputation to have a negative impact on his longtime friend, so he always meets him at his home instead of his office. Knocking on the door, Killian waits anxiously for Archie to answer.

Archie is out of breath as he had hurried to open the door. "Killian, I was worried. I was expecting you much earlier. Please come in and sit down." Archie guides Killian to his small living area.

"I'm sorry for being late, I made a quick stop at Tiny's." Killian raises his bruised hand to scratch behind his ear.

"By the looks of your hand am I to assume you are in need of my legal services? Archie asks scoldingly.

"I don't believe so. I was only defending Tink." Killian answers. "I was hoping you could help with finding her a good home to work at, I need her out of that place. I know Tiny tries to keep an eye on her, but it is impossible for him to protect her at all times."

"I don't know of anyone in need right now. Have you considered taking her to the nuns? I know they offer a safe place for young girls to live in." Archie suggests.

Killian's thoughts immediately go to Emma What is it about that bloody infuriating woman?

"I don't know how Tink would feel about that," Killian answers after finally returning to the present.

"It's a good place for her. She will be safe. I will be heading that way tomorrow morning to deliver a letter to the daughter of a long-time client. Maybe you and Tink can accompany me to see the place. It will be only for a short while Killian." Archie assures him.

"I honestly don't think Tink would be very receptive to that idea."

"I don't mean for Tink to take vows," Archie replies. "I only mean as a temporary place while I find her a good home to work for. That way she can be out of Tiny's."

"I will send Smee to let her know of the plan. I know she will not be happy, but she will do it on my request. I'll make sure she is ready to go."Killian scratches the back of his ear and says, "Since you mentioned your old client. I was wondering if you could re-introduce me to August Booth. I'm looking to make a change in my business dealings and thought of our brief friendship growing up. Maybe he can help an old mate. I know my reputation is not the best, but I'm hoping you can put in a good word for me?"

"How is it that you know of his return?" Archie asks.

"The prodigal son returns to Misthaven and you thought that bit of information would not find its way to me?"

"You've never mentioned him before. Why now?" Archie asks.

"Ah well, I may have found a lass worth settling down for," Killian smirks as he answers the question. It is not really a lie.

"Oh, I'm so happy to hear that. Will you tell me about her? She must be a very special woman to have been able to keep your interest for longer than one night. I believe your father would have wanted you to find happiness alongside a good woman," Archie says.

"My father hated me! Why would you say that? You know exactly how little he cared for me and my happiness," Killian snaps.

"Killian, please calm down. It was not my intention to upset you. I only said that because in his final moments he had asked for Brennan to take you in and perhaps it was his way to make up for the terrible way he had treated you." Archie wishes he could tell Killian the truth, but without proof, there is no point.

Killian studies Archie's face. He looks as if he wants to say more but something is stopping him.

Killian has always considered himself fairly perceptive. It doesn't matter though, he trusts Archie with his life.

"Archie you have not given me an answer. Will you help me?" Killian asks.

"Of course, you know I have longed for the day that you would come to me asking for help. I will gladly do all in my power to help you become the man I know you truly are." Archie smiles softly as he answers.

"Good. Will you keep me posted on that matter? As for tomorrow, I know we have plans. We will be ready to go to the convent to take care of the issue with Tink and to deliver that letter. Archie, I truly appreciate all your help. I better go now. I have taken too much of your time. I will see you early tomorrow morning." Killian shakes hands with his old time friend and bids him good night.

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